Notes: Thanks to Nanenna for inspiring some of Autor's musings here! And there's a couple of necessary references to more modern things, so I feel I must again remind that I subscribe to the controversial idea that the series is present-day. And I am highly amused that I spent quite a while deliberating on what kind of retro-looking landline telephone to give Autor.
Chapter Two
Other students were already crowding around the school's infirmary when Autor and Ahiru arrived. Autor frowned, taking hold of Ahiru's wrist as he weaved around them to the door. Ahiru fought to keep pace with him, stumbling more than once. As he stopped at the door, she crashed into him with a groan. He did not acknowledge her, too intent on attempting to hear the conversation inside.
"Charon's already here," he noted. "It sounds like the doctor is talking to him." He turned the knob, opening the door just enough for him and Ahiru to slip inside. As the other students immediately clamored closer, he firmly shut the door.
Both Charon and the physician looked up, tensing at the interruption. Charon's gaze upon Autor was unreadable, but he looked sad as he focused on Ahiru. That did not encourage either of the worried teens.
"Charon! Is Fakir hurt bad? Will he be okay?" Ahiru exclaimed. Peering around them both, she caught sight of Fakir lying on the nearest bed. He looked like he was only sleeping, though he was unfortunately not in such an innocuous state.
"Fakir!" she cried, running over to the bedside. She longed for him to tell her something, anything, even to not yell so loud. But he did not acknowledge her at all. Her shoulders slumped as she sank into the chair by the bed. "Fakir," she said again, this time in a heartbroken whisper.
Autor hung back, only briefly gazing at Fakir before turning back to the adults. Perhaps he still felt guilty, blaming himself for Fakir's fall. Or perhaps he just felt too uncomfortable seeing Fakir so motionless.
Charon sighed, looking to the doctor. The older man removed his stethoscope, studying Ahiru and Autor with a confused frown. "Who are you two?" he asked.
"I'm Ahiru!" said Ahiru, before Autor could speak. "And this is Autor. We're Fakir's friends."
"Autor?" The physician's expression changed to understanding. "You're the boy who was with Fakir when he . . . fell," he finished awkwardly.
"Yes," Autor said.
Charon nodded. "They're both trustworthy, Doctor," he said.
The physician hesitated, but then nodded. "With such a terrible fall came a nasty bump on his head," he said. "His pupils surprisingly aren't dilated, but that isn't the only sign of a concussion. I feel he likely has a very bad one.
"However, the main concerns I have are swelling or bleeding on the brain," he continued, "and unfortunately I can't accurately check much on those here. He needs to be taken to the hospital and examined with more modern equipment. In any case, it concerns me that he hasn't regained consciousness yet."
Ahiru was giving the doctor a blank stare. Though she thought she understood most of what was being said, inside she was screaming for it not to be true. She hesitated, then reached and laid a hand on Fakir's.
"Is he still not responding to anything?" Autor asked.
"That's right." The doctor sighed. "Can you tell me anything more about his fall, young man? I know that he was lying on his left side after tumbling down those stairs."
"What more do you want me to tell?" Autor returned. In spite of himself, his voice was taut and he was growing slightly tense. From the doctor's hesitation, he had to wonder whether the man was convinced of Autor's innocence in the matter.
"Now, there's no need for that tone," the physician said. "No one's accusing you of anything."
"I didn't actually see him fall," Autor said. "I heard him hitting the stairs, but it happened so fast. When I was able to look, he had already reached the bottom."
"Were you near him when he fell?" the doctor queried.
"Yes," Autor said. "I was standing next to him."
"And you didn't see him fall down the stairs?" Charon frowned in confusion.
"No," Autor said. "I only heard him falling. I tried to grab for him when he tumbled, but I couldn't catch him." He frowned. "It was dark through the opening, but after he struck the bottom there was a faint light shining from somewhere that illuminated him."
"That's weird!" Ahiru exclaimed. It's like . . . like someone wanted Autor to see him. Were the ghosts being even meaner? Or were they giving him a warning?
"It is strange," Charon frowned in agreement. He crossed to the bed, lifting Fakir into his arms with care. "I'm taking Fakir to the hospital now. Is there another way out of this room?" He frowned towards the door, where the muffled voices of the chattering students could still be heard. He did not want to pass by them.
"There's an outside entrance," Autor volunteered. "Over here." He pulled the blue curtain divider aside, revealing both another bed and a door on the far right.
"Good," Charon said. He walked towards it with purpose, the physician hurrying alongside.
Ahiru bit her lip. The sight of Fakir lying so lifeless and limp in Charon's arms was breaking her heart. "Um . . . can I come?" she asked.
Charon hesitated. The doctor glanced over his shoulder. "The tests could take a while," he said. "You could be just sitting and waiting for hours."
"But I'll never be able to focus on the rest of the classes today!" Ahiru exclaimed.
"You should go," Autor said, pushing up his glasses. From his tone of voice, he did not intend to go himself.
Ahiru looked back to him, her eyes widening in realization. "Autor, you . . ."
"The two of you can talk this over," Charon said. "We're going on ahead." His voice was strained with his worry for his adopted son. He hastened outside as the physician opened the door for them.
As the door shut a moment later, leaving the two students in solitude, Ahiru faced her friend in concern. "Autor, what are you going to do?" she demanded. "You can't go down in that tunnel! It's too dangerous! And at this time of day, someone will probably see you!"
"I'm not going to go down there now," Autor said.
Ahiru rocked back, blinking in surprise. "Then why . . ."
"I'm going to look over all of my current research on these tunnels," Autor said. "There's an entire network of them that appear to snake all over the town." He lowered his voice. "When it's night, I'll come back and go through the trapdoor."
Ahiru gawked. "How will you even get in?" she gasped.
"I know how to pick locks." Autor looked uncomfortable to be revealing this information.
"You wouldn't!" Ahiru stared at him. "Autor, you'll be suspended for sure if they catch you!"
"I can't let that stop me." Autor looked at her, his expression unwavering. "I have to know what's down there and why the ghosts were willing to hurt Fakir and implicate me to keep it secret. They're not staying in their domain; they've been coming up into the library itself, so this could happen again."
Ahiru's eyes widened in horror. "But . . ."
"Your place is with Fakir," Autor said. "Go on to the hospital. I'll call and find out about his condition before I come back here tonight."
Ahiru's thoughts spun around in her head. "Okay," she said, quietly and subdued. "But Autor, at least you should go with someone!" she exclaimed then.
"And who would I go with?" Autor returned. "I don't trust anyone around here. From the sound of it, they don't trust me, either." Though he did not intend it, a bit of bitterness had slipped into his voice.
Ahiru shifted. "Yeah," she said.
"I'll be fine," Autor said. "Don't worry about me."
Ahiru started. "And how can I not worry, after what happened to Fakir?" she cried, her hands flying to her hips. "The minute you try to go down there, you might get pulled in just like he was!"
Autor flinched. That was true. And he was certainly not helping Ahiru's worries.
"Autor, please, if you have to go, then I'll go with you," Ahiru said.
"It's too dangerous," Autor objected, staring at her.
Ahiru glowered at him. "And that's exactly why I won't let you go alone!" she said. "I went with Fakir all over those tunnels under the church!"
"Yes, but at that time you could also become Princess Tutu any time you wanted," Autor said.
"I'm going," Ahiru said, her chin set with a stubborn air.
Autor sighed, half-turning away from her. "Fakir needs you more," he said.
Ahiru looked down, but not before Autor caught sight of the pain and worry in her eyes. "He has to be okay, though," she said softly. "I guess I'm hoping that they can wake him up at the hospital and they'll just say he needs rest or something."
Autor turned back to her. "They can't always wake people up," he said. "If the unconscious person is unresponsive, there's nothing to do but wait and see if he or she will come out of it."
Ahiru clenched her fists. "But if he keeps not waking up, that means it's really bad, doesn't it?" She was staring at the floor, her voice a mumble. It pained Autor to hear her agony. And it hurt worse when he felt at least partially responsible for Fakir's fall.
"It can," he admitted. "Sometimes, however, it just takes a while to wake up."
Ahiru slowly looked back up at him. "Really?" she said.
"Yes." Autor nodded towards the door. "Go on now." But then he frowned. "On second thought, you might want to change clothes first."
Ahiru started as she looked down at her leotard and tights. "Oh . . . right." She went a bit red as she hurried to the door and opened it. But then she leaped back with a gasp of shock as the eavesdropping students all fell in on the floor.
Autor hmphed as he walked past them. "Disgraceful," was his only comment.
Ahiru swallowed hard, trailing after him.
xxxx
The next hours passed painfully slow for everyone.
Autor was right; Ahiru was in the waiting room with Charon for what seemed ages. She could only sit for a few minutes before she was up again, pacing the room or peering in at the fish in the tank. Time moved agonizingly slow. Charon attempted to examine some of the magazines left for those waiting, but he could not concentrate. He mostly leaned forward, clasping his hands and staring at nothing.
Autor looked over a couple of books at the school, but he soon checked them out and left altogether. He was tense, feeling the eyes of the students on him and hearing their whispers. The ones that did not fully believe he was guilty spent their time gossiping about whether he was, in addition to their usual pondering on if he was mortal.
The more time that had gone by since his restoration, the more the students had relaxed. Most seemed to have finally accepted that his return to the world of the living did not mean he was in limbo and among the undead. A few, however, persisted in the rumors. They were childish, just looking for something sensational.
And that was what they were doing now as well. Many who no longer believed that Autor was a dangerous paranormal being were latching onto the idea that he had pushed Fakir, wanting some reason to put him down. It was annoying, but there was not anything he could do about it.
He bided his time and did his research as the rest of the afternoon melted into evening. While he sat in the living room, reading a book by the fire, he glanced now and then at the clock. He was keeping time in his mind, determining how many minutes he thought had passed, and then checking his estimations against the clock. More often than not, he was very close, if not exact.
It was when he felt it had been long enough to attempt calling the hospital that his own telephone rang. Raising an eyebrow, he set down the tome and reached for the device.
"Hello?" he said as he lifted the receiver.
"Autor?"
He recognized Ahiru's voice. "What is it?" he asked.
"Well . . . the doctors did all kinds of tests and stuff," Ahiru said. "And the good news is that it doesn't look like there's any brain-swelling or bleeding or anything like that! But . . ." Her voice quavered. "Fakir doesn't wake up. It's really weird; there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with him at all besides the bump."
"I see." Autor frowned. "What are they going to do?"
"Charon wanted to bring him home and watch him himself," Ahiru said. "The doctors probably wouldn't have let him, but there was some big accident just outside town and everything's really crazy and crowded at the hospital. They said other people needed the hospital beds more than Fakir, so they let Charon bring him back. But they gave him a lot of strict rules about checking Fakir every thirty minutes and stuff."
"So you're calling from home?" Autor could imagine Ahiru standing on tiptoe to use the wall telephone he remembered Charon had installed in the kitchen.
"Yeah." Ahiru shifted. "Are you still going out?"
"Yes." Autor pushed up his glasses. "Are you still intending to come?"
"Uh huh." He could hear her shifting position again. "I want to be with Fakir, but I don't want you to go off alone, either. And I want to know why the ghosts hurt him." A bit of fire came into her voice at the last statement. "He didn't do anything wrong!"
"What are you going to tell Charon?" Autor frowned. "He won't like the idea any more than I do."
Ahiru gave a nervous laugh. "Actually, I haven't figured that out yet," she said.
Autor sighed in exasperation. "I'm going to leave within an hour or two," he said, glancing at the clock. "Once you've determined your excuse, come here within one hour. Otherwise, I'll meet you at the academy."
"Okay. Um, should I bring anything? Like a flashlight or a lantern or something?"
"Flashlights would be more reliable and easier to carry," Autor said. "I'll have mine, but go ahead and bring one if you have it." He hesitated. "Also, I don't know how long this will take. You might want to bring emergency rations . . . food," he added quickly.
Ahiru gasped. "It could take so long we'll have to eat down there?" she said.
"It's just a possibility," Autor said. "We should be prepared."
"Then I'm going to be!" Ahiru said in determination. "I'll see you later, Autor. Bye!" She hung up before Autor had any chance to protest.
The boy leaned back with a sigh, replacing the receiver of the rotary-style telephone. Ahiru's words concerned him, specifically about Fakir not awakening. In spite of what he had told Ahiru about it sometimes just taking a long time for someone to come to, he could not help but wonder if there was another possibility. Could the ghosts have done something to keep Fakir unconscious? If so, he could potentially remain like that until Autor could find a way to undo it.
And if Ahiru ended up injured in the process, Fakir would never forgive him.
Of course, Autor would never forgive himself, either.
xxxx
Ahiru arrived as Autor was literally walking out the door. He raised an eyebrow as he saw her approach.
"I was starting to wonder if Charon had discerned what was going on," he said.
She shook her head. "I said I was worried about you too, because of how the students were being so mean," she said. "So I said I was going to come see you." She looked down. "Fakir's not any different."
Autor sighed, debating within himself as they turned and walked down the darkened street. Should he tell her his suspicions about the ghosts? Or should he keep that to himself unless they found something more concrete to confirm it?
"What do the doctors think?" he said at last.
"They really thought he should've woke up," Ahiru said softly. "So Charon's hoping it won't take long. I mean, of course I'm hoping that too. . . ." Her gaze wandered to the streetlamps burning up and down the stone road.
"Are you wondering if you should have stayed with him?" Autor said.
Ahiru froze. "Um, well, I . . ." She bit her lip.
"You volunteered for this, you know," Autor said. "Under the circumstances, you have every right to not go through with it."
Ahiru sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I feel . . . kind of torn, I guess," she said. "I wish I could be in two places at the same time."
"Unfortunately, that science hasn't been developed." Autor pushed up his glasses, staying alert for the rare late-night sounds of a horse or a carriage. They certainly would not want to be seen out at this time, but completely aside from that, Autor still carried a fear of the animals that had trampled him to death and the vehicle they had pulled. He avoided them when he could.
"I . . . I told Fakir that I'd be back as soon as I could. Do you wish I wasn't coming?" Ahiru asked.
"It would be better for you if you weren't," Autor said.
Ahiru glowered at the street. "Maybe I am just selfish," she said, shuffling her feet now. "I don't want to sit there waiting for Fakir to wake up while I'm worrying about you too. Maybe I just wanted to be able to know what at least one of my best friends is doing and to feel like I could maybe do something to help."
She slowed to a stop. "I don't know what's going on with Fakir at all! We couldn't see him for the longest time, and then when they finally let us, he was so still. . . . It was scary and wrong. Fakir's not supposed to be like that!" She looked up at Autor, who had stopped as well. "I guess . . . I'm really scared you're going to end up like that too."
"What do you think Fakir would tell you?" Autor said. He felt awkward with this conversation. He was not really the comforting sort; he saw things in shades of logic and numbers. When he spoke, it was often to be blunt—though his words were needed.
Ahiru frowned. "He'd probably say you could take care of yourself," she said.
Autor started walking again. Ahiru hurried to catch up.
"And I'd say 'You did a really great job of taking care of yourself!' And then we'd start arguing or something."
Autor stared ahead as the town unfolded before them. Yes, that was likely what would happen.
"And nothing would actually get resolved," he mused.
"Yeah, probably." Ahiru looked away. "But I kind of wish I could argue with him now. That sounds weird, doesn't it?"
"No," Autor said.
She blinked. "It doesn't?"
"For most people, yes, it would sound strange," Autor said. "For you and Fakir, it doesn't."
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not," Ahiru mumbled.
She swallowed hard as the academy loomed sooner than she had thought it would. "Are you going to pick the lock on the gate too?" she said. "It's not left unlocked like the gates at the dorms are."
Autor frowned, studying the scene. "There shouldn't be anyone on the grounds this late," he said. "It would probably be alright."
"Probably?" Ahiru squeaked.
"Just stand in front of me in case someone walks past." Autor went over to the padlock, making certain that there were no visible lights on the other side of the gate before using his tools to try to open it.
Ahiru took several steps forward, turned and did the same thing the other direction, and began to repeat the actions indefinitely. Someone would undoubtedly notice and wonder what she was doing, but the thought of holding completely still made her nervous. And it was hard to say which would be the most incriminating.
She jumped a mile at the audible click. Autor straightened, undoing the chain and opening one side of the gate just enough for them to slip through. "Since there's water surrounding the grounds on all sides, we can't hope to climb the wall when we're done," he frowned. "And I can't leave this unlocked; we could be found out."
Ahiru gaped at him. "Then what are we going to do?" she demanded.
He walked through the opening, Ahiru scurrying after him. Shutting the gate again, he reached through the bars and reaffixed the chain and the padlock. "I'll just have to pick it a second time," he noted.
He faded into the shadow of the main building while Ahiru scrambled to keep pace. Normally the structure was welcoming, but tonight it could only look imposing and ominous. Ahiru shuddered as she looked up at the spires. If she let her imagination run too wild, they would look like spikes reaching out for the intruding students. She scrambled closer to Autor, even while scolding herself for being so silly.
Still, what were they going to find in the library?
Once they were past the edifice Autor veered to the left, heading for the library. It was, thankfully, in darkness, as were the rest of the buildings. But all of the shadows stretched eerily on the walkways and the grass, only making Ahiru think all the more of countless invisible eyes watching their actions. Wasn't there a creepy expression about the walls having eyes? Or the night itself?
They stopped, and again she waited while Autor picked a lock. He chose the library's back door rather than the front. "It's closer to where we need to go," he said. "And we're less likely to be seen."
"How do you know how to do this, anyway?" Ahiru asked, feeling uneasy as Autor pulled the door open and stepped inside. She followed, ducking under his arm before he drew the door shut and locked it again from the inside.
Immediately they were plunged into blackness, the small beams from their flashlights all that stood between them and the complete unknown. But the glows illuminated strange and eerie shadows, making Ahiru cringe. The thought of the malevolent ghosts lurking somewhere in one of the rooms did not help one bit.
Autor smirked. "Occasionally during my research, I couldn't access information I needed another way," he said in reply to her question.
"Autor!" Ahiru exclaimed.
"Actually, that isn't the truth." Autor pushed up his glasses. He really did not want to admit that he had once locked himself out of his house by accident and had been forced to pick the lock to get back inside. It had been one of his most frustrating experiences, especially since it had been winter at the time.
Ahiru frowned. "You were making a joke?"
"I guess you could call it that," Autor said, sounding both matter-of-fact and bored.
"It wasn't a very good one," Ahiru muttered.
Autor did not reply, instead proceeding down the hall. When he came to the door he wanted, he reached for the handle. But as soon as he touched it he stiffened in shock. "It's cold," he said.
Ahiru touched the next door over. "This one is too," she quavered.
Autor laid his hand against the other metal. "Not like the one we want," he said.
Ahiru slumped forward. "I was afraid of that," she said.
Autor pushed the first door open, unleashing a frosty batch of air. Ahiru gasped, steeling herself against it as her skirt and braid blew wildly in the breeze. Only when it passed did she dare to look into the room.
It was not so much that it looked different, she determined. It was that it felt different. Something was very wrong. She could not help but give a weak whimper as she moved closer to Autor.
The bookish student stepped into the room, acknowledging the noticeable change in temperature. When Ahiru came in beside him, she clearly felt it as well. Her eyes were wide and alarmed.
"I demand an explanation!" Autor said, casting his gaze around the room. "Why are you leaving your domain and coming into ours? Why did you hurt Fakir?"
The deep cackle nearly made Ahiru's braid stand on end. Near the window, the trapdoor creaked open. Flickering light was visible beyond the entrance.
Autor glowered at it. "They want us to go down," he said. "More than likely they have a trap prepared."
Ahiru gripped his arm. "Let's go back, Autor!" she pleaded. "It's not worth it."
"I don't want these ghosts infesting the library, especially after what they've done," Autor retorted. Then, hesitating again, he made his decision. "And it's also possible that the ghosts are preventing Fakir from waking up," he said.
Ahiru went pale. "Really?"
"I don't think we should ignore the possibility," Autor said.
"Then we have to go down there!" Ahiru cried. "No matter what!"
"My thoughts exactly," Autor said. "Though even if it's true, I'm not sure how we'll reverse it." He narrowed his eyes. "Ghosts keeping people unconscious wasn't covered in my research."
"If it's true, we'll find out!" Ahiru declared. Her knees were slightly knocking as she approached the entrance to the unknown, but her visage was filled with resolve. If going into the realm of the ghosts was the only way to save Fakir, then nothing would keep her away.
Autor came up beside her, tense as he peered through the hole. There was no gray smoke now. Instead the flames of the torches flickered and burned. The ghosts had lit them.
"I'm going down first," he told her. Though he doubted anything would happen to either of them yet, he would feel better if he went ahead of Ahiru. Before she could protest, he crouched on the floor and gripped the edge of the opening. For the second time that day, he lowered himself to the landing of the stairs.
Ahiru dropped down next to him a split-second later. For a moment she stood stiff, then breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I didn't fall," she said.
As if on cue, icy hands pressed against her back. She shrieked, pitching forward and flailing wildly.
Autor caught hold of her waist, dragging her away from the stairs. "Ahiru! Please be more careful!" he cried in both exasperation and worry. He was not going to stand by and watch someone else be hurt because of the ghosts.
"It wasn't my fault!" Ahiru wailed. "Something really creepy touched me!"
Autor frowned, looking to the empty space behind them. "Alright," he said at last. "We'll go down the stairs together. Stay right with me!"
Ahiru gave a weak nod.
Autor kept a firm grasp on Ahiru's wrist as they headed down the stone steps. Something was definitely watching them. And as they stepped onto the solid ground, a dark chill passed through both of their bodies.
"This is where Fakir fell," Autor informed Ahiru. "There's something evil here."
"Well, of course there is!" Ahiru cried, angry in spite of her fear. "Only something really mean and cruel would push poor Fakir!"
Her words echoed eerily up and down the ominous hall. The torches burned more brightly, then dimmed.
Autor glowered at them. "Now we have to choose a path," he said. It was not as easy as it sounded; dark doorways to paths were all around them. It was hard not to be fascinated at the architecture despite the grim situation.
Ahiru shuddered. "Do they all lead to dead people and stuff?" she asked.
"I wouldn't know," Autor said. "But maybe we should start with the one we know does."
"Really?" Ahiru squeaked in horror.
"Which path did you take when you were down here?" Autor queried.
Ahiru hesitated, then pointed to one of the right-hand tunnels. "That one . . . I think," she said.
Autor headed in that direction, pulling her with him. It certainly looked forbidding; it was the only path that did not have lit torches in front of it. And as they drew closer, some of the shelves bearing bones and skulls came into view.
"You know, I really kind of wonder what that poor lamp was doing down here," Ahiru said, cringing at the ossuaries as they advanced down the passageway. "Who'd put a lamp in a place like this?"
"Maybe it was just a stage setting created by Drosselmeyer," Autor said. "But apparently he wasn't responsible for these tunnels in the first place." From the looks of things, they were just as old as the rest of the underground paths in town. Autor had already been certain that was the case. Now there was visual evidence.
"I don't get why all these people were buried under the library, either," Ahiru whimpered as they entered the first crypt.
"They were likely here long before there was a library," Autor said, frowning as he looked to the nearest coffin. The nameplate was worn and unreadable.
Ahiru gasped in horror, staring across the corridor at another one. "That one's open!" she cried.
Autor raised an eyebrow as he turned to look. She was right; the lid was halfway ajar.
"I don't see anything coming out of it," he said as he walked over to it. "Anyway, the lid would need to be pushed further along for anything to actually escape. . . . What's this?"
Ahiru's mouth dropped open as Autor reached into the casket. Her eyes only got wider when he extracted a handful of brightly-colored objects. "Jewels?" she said.
He nodded, holding up a cut bluish-green gem for inspection. "There's an entire sack of them right there in the corner," he said.
"M-Maybe they belonged to the dead person?" Ahiru quavered. "You'd better put them back, Autor!"
Autor replaced the jewels in the bag, but then lifted up the entire parcel. "Something isn't right," he said. "If it belonged here, this cloth bag should have disintegrated as soon as it was exposed to the air. Instead, it's perfectly intact."
Ahiru bit her lip. "What does that mean?"
"It means it was put here recently," Autor said. "Someone is storing gems in an underground crypt."