XV.

The loam and dust that covered nearly every inch of Eastend was almost soothing compared to the emerald slog of the wetlands and the forbidden city before. Vagari missed the green world of old, but its modern equivalent was the pitcher plant to the rose of yesteryear – beautiful but deadly. The only green Eastend boasted was the algae bog at its back which was all but blocked out by the labyrinth of plastered buildings. It was easy enough for a local to get lost in the web of interconnecting alleyways, so Vagari was confident enough that they’d escape their pursuers if they hadn’t already. “Your friend,” BP began between huffs as she did her best to keep up, “what do you think he wants with her?”

Vagari made his long strides forward in focused silence. For a long moment BP thought perhaps he hadn’t heard her or was simply choosing not to, but right when she made to say something else, he broke his silence, saying, “She’s in possession or, at very least, knows the whereabouts of a very special book. She may have hidden it along the way,” Vagari informed her neutrally. “Xu wants it. Why he wants it, I cannot say. But what I can say is that if it falls into the wrong hands… the results could be catastrophic.” The first thought that came to BP’s mind was her sibling and the horror it wrought. If there was any chance of something like that happening again, she had to help stop it. BP slowed to a halt; her head hung low. “I know,” she said flatly, “he told me. He told me she stole it. That they were guarding it, keeping it away from evil people…”

Vagari’s steps fell still at the end of the alleyway. She had been compromised, he realized, his heart freezing in his chest. Xu had sent her to go with him to lead them to the book. “What are you saying, BP?” Vagari asked quietly, having to confirm his suspicion.

“That he told me!” She snapped, bulging eyes red with tears. “B-but I didn’t believe him… He wanted me to spy on you, but I won’t! I won’t lie… It feels awful. It makes me sick, so I’m telling you before I throw up.”

“Why?” Vagari pressed curtly. “Why not do what he says? Why not believe him? Why shouldn’t I think this is some kind of trick?”

“Because… you saved me,” BP answered firmly, “not him. And… and I did lie, before about the feeling I got from him. It is him, just not the one I lied to myself about. He always felt that way – wrong! He wasn’t ever good – not to me, not to any of us! He just… was kinder than the rest.” BP swallowed hard, her eyes grown distant and glossy. “But you… you actually care about her, don’t you? Soprano? I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her. When you say her name it’s like you can see her – some perfect thing that’s everything to you. You pretend otherwise, I think, but I can see it. No one’s ever looked at me like that. Not Xu, not anyone. And I… I won’t help him take that from you.”

Vagari stared at her for a long quiet moment, looking for any cracks or sign of alternate play. He had known she was lying then. If she had thought she had managed to pull the wool over his eyes, she was sadly mistaken. It couldn’t have been more obvious – especially to someone who had grown up under familiarly cruel guidance. Vagari recognized the courage it took to break that cycle of cruelty – courage he sorely wished he had had. Cruel and manipulative people never wanted to hear about their flaws, and breaking that rule always brought an elevation in their worst qualities. Daunted children learned quick to avoid such honesties. “The first place we’ll look will be my home,” Vagari said abruptly, starting once more down the maze of alleyways. “Your home too, if you’d like – for however long you wish to stay.”

BP stared in bewilderment for a breath before rushing to catch up. “You’re… You’re not mad at me?”

“No,” Vagari answered honestly, “I’m mad at him. You told me the truth against the wishes of someone who… literally created you. That’s courage, real courage. Something I never could… Look here,” Vagari said, cutting himself off to point down at the very edge of a plastered wall. BP did so and found at his direction a small etching in the dusty brick. “See it?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “What is it?”

“Breadcrumbs,” Vagari answered. “If you ever lose your way here, just follow these.”

“Breadcrumbs?” BP muttered as she pawed the mark inquisitively.

“From the story of Hansel and Gretel,” he informed with a laugh. “I suppose that wouldn’t have been in Xu’s library… Well, Hansel and Gretel were two children whose parents leave them in the woods – abandoning them – but they always find their way home. Gretel left breadcrumbs to follow. I left these here for Alto and Soprano to follow if they ever needed to escape the Megacity.”

“Will I ever see this Megacity?” BP asked wonderingly. “Will you show me?”

Vagari stared down at the mark in solemn silence and then said with a warm smile, “Most never really do, not really… But I’m sure Soprano would welcome your company, if she deems to return there – take up her father’s mantle and run the shop perhaps.”

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“Think so?” uttered BP softly, pausing a moment before saying, “I’d rather stay with you, honestly.”

“Impossible,” Vagari said not unkindly. “Where I go next… you’ll not wish to tread, my friend.”

“Where’s that?!” BP asked in exclamation. “It can’t be any worse than the bog or the city!”

Vagari let out a dry laugh. For a moment he just stood there and watched her with a warm smile. “My mission… It doesn’t have a happy ending, BP,” Vagari said soberly. “It never did. Once I have the book… I don’t suspect I’ll survive what happens next. I’m not sure if I want to. I’m not a good man, BP. I’m not much different than Xu in that aspect.”

“You’re nothing like Xu,” BP exclaimed.

“That’s not true,” Vagari offered gently with a sigh. “We’re more alike than I’d care to admit. We’ve both done terrible things, great wrongs that hurt a lot of people. The only difference is I’m trying to right my wrongs. That’s what I hope to do with the book.”

“I can help,” BP said urgently, balling her fists. “I’ve read tons of books!” Vagari shook his head and smiled. “You’ll like Soprano,” he said, starting down the alleyway once more. “She’s a lot like you – more toad than alligator – but a lot like you. She too sees wonder in the bones of the world.”

BP followed in silence after that. It saddened him to see her so deflated, but while they were being honest, she needed to know there wasn’t any real future for their companionship. She would be safe once he took Xu out, and that would make their contract fulfilled. With Soprano maybe they both would have the chance to rebuild their lives. Maybe they could even rebuild the shop – all the mystery of the old world without half the dangers. None if he was successful. It was a comforting thought, the two of them living long and happy lives; the best of friends in a world not ripe with corruption but one recovering from it. Vagari wondered if bringing about that future would redeem him, or at least cool his soul as he burned in the fires of hell. He doubted it, but he was content with his fiery fate so long as he righted the wrongs he’d done before being cast into the pit.

Dreams of the future aside, he still had to deal with the ghosts of the present – Dr. Xu, if it really was him. Would he hunt them still if Vagari left with the book, or would he leave BP and Soprano alone? He hadn’t let Alto live, nor any of the caravanners once he had made his presence known. Vagari was sure of one thing, he would have to kill him. That was the only way they would ever be safe from Xu and his cabal. And after all the harm he had done, Vagari wanted to. For the caravanners, for that nameless girl, for Alto, and all those who died in the hell gate that was Site-B, for all and any of them to rest at peace, Xu had to die. Perhaps it wasn’t justice, Vagari thought, but he could live with that.

After what felt like a thousand seemingly random turns, their trip through the mazelike alleyways came to an abrupt end at the facing of a large metal door. At first BP thought that maybe they had somehow managed to take a wrong turn despite the markings, but after Vagari fiddled with the handle a moment it pushed in without so much as a creak. Beyond, the doorway led into a courtyard of sorts: a large opening that was completely walled up by the backs of other buildings, making the maze at its entrance the only way in. It was by no means empty, playing host to a dozen garden boxes and a large pond even, constructed out of the lower half of an old water tank. BP let free a gasp as she rushed forward to give the place a look over. “Tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, beans, and rice… It’s just like the hydroponics bay!” she exclaimed. “Dr. Xu took me there sometimes when he needed to think. We always played the storm sounds really loud with the simulated rain.”

Vagari watched as the pleasant memory played out in her eyes but only briefly before the smile fell from her face. She truly cared for the man and the good times they shared, and for that he both pitied and envied her. That was where the similarities of their pains ended – he harbored no such memories of his own father. “It’s okay, you know?” Vagari called with a smile. “To hold on to the good ones.”

“Is it?” BP asked, her gaze locked on the crimson shine of a ripe tomato.

“Yes,” replied Vagari firmly. “There’s nothing wrong with remembering the good times, remembering people for what they meant to us instead of who they turned out to be. Hold onto the good memories.” BP didn’t look convinced, but nodded her head all the same. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll try.”

The pair pushed forward through the garden towards the abode. It was a far cry from Val’s penthouse apartment, but Vagari couldn’t help but smile seeing it, the home he had managed to build for himself. It wasn’t much more than a retrofitted garage that, years and years ago, once served as the heart of the town before its rapid growth made it an inconvenience to use and pointless to maintain. Vagari managed to snag the property for next to nothing, turning the dusty forgotten lot into a fortress to block out all the horrors of the outside world. There were two doors before them: a large rolling door, and a small scrap metal one next to it that had ‘Casa de Futuro’ poorly painted onto it in bold white letters next to a muddled green frog wearing sunglasses.

Vagari smiled wider and slid a hand down the face of it. “Alto drew this when he was young,” he announced with great fondness. “His father sent him with me to help fix this place up – said it’d do him some good to see the world beyond the walls of the Megacity. He nabbed an old memory drive from the shop before we left – a program to learn Spanish. I told him I could teach him, that I could teach him a whole lot of languages. But, no, he just shook his head and said ‘Nah – I like the mystery of it. The discovery!’” Vagari swallowed hard, trying not to choke on the uprising of emotion. “Mystery and discovery… In this world of horrors, he saw wonder in both past and present,” Vagari said, reaching for the handle, “and in the future. ‘Come what may;’ he’d say to tomorrow, ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.’ To which I’d say: Once more into the breach, dear friend…” Vagari turned the handle and called out, “Soprano? Are you here?”

The black-lipped smile quickly fell from Vagari’s face as the door swung in, its handle fallen free from his hand as a waft of fetid air assaulted them. BP stared in shock as the emotions Vagari had narrowly held back broke through and tears began pouring down his face. “No – no… no-no-no-no… Please no,” Vagari pleaded as he staggered through the doorway, no longer a portal into the comforts of home, but a gateway into the ashen world of memory.