Chapter 3

The tattoo on Tim's palm seemed to come alive as the three-headed dragon (or whatever it was) began to writhe.

"Where's Tim?"

"Oh, he's in here. He's fighting to get me out. I almost had him. He was weakened by the separation."

"You did that?"

"It's the way I keep out unwanted visitors."

The parts of the tattoo began to weave themselves around Tim's hand, swirling up and down the fingers, curling around the knuckles.

"Why didn't it happen to me?"

"Three into one," he said again.

"What does that mean?"

The laugh that answered his question was horrible to hear. It wasn't loud, but soft and distorted. He could give every evil villain since the beginning of time a run for his money. Tony felt as though his own skin was crawling and actually had to look down to be sure that it wasn't. His skin was staying firmly where it should be.

The Proprietor just stared at Tony after his laughter died away. He seemed to be waiting, but Tony felt as though he'd been tossed into a swimming pool with lead weights on his feet and then told to swim. He was sinking fast.

"He's losing," the Proprietor whispered.

Then, without thinking, Tony punched the Proprietor hard in the face, as hard as he could, sending him reeling back into the broken bookcase. Anything to stop that voice that was not Tim, to close those eyes that weren't Tim's, to stop this madness.

There was a long low moan.

"Probie?"

"He's gone?" the voice was weak, shaky...and totally and completely Tim. Tony almost cried with relief.

"Yeah, he's gone. That's the Proprietor, huh?"

Tim sat up, blinking his now-green eyes. "He is...yes."

"What happened?"

"I couldn't hold him off. What did you do?"

"I punched him...you in the face."

"Oh. I thought it was just from the...other part."

"No. That was me."

Tim blinked slowly. "Thank you. I think."

"Can you tell me what's going on now, Probie? Please?"

"Help me out of this pile, please?"

Tony extended a hand and helped a very-weakened Tim get to his feet. They tripped over the volumes laying on the floor and then, Tim sagged against the outer wall, staring morosely at what Tony realized was...another wall. This one was cylindrical, a matte gray. The door stood out because it was like the doors on submarines.

"He needs to work on his interior design," Tony said.

Tim just slid down the wall until he hit the floor with a soft thump.

"We have a few minutes?"

"Probably."

"Probably?"

"I don't know. I never made it this far before."

"Okay, please, start at the beginning and tell me why it is that you know this place but haven't been here, how it is that you got split into thirds and then put back together...and then possessed, what you're doing here, and why you...why you..."

"Why what, Tony?" Tim asked.

"I don't know! I can't even think up the questions to ask! This is like a bad horror movie!"

Tim nodded in agreement. He knew that better than Tony did. "It even started like a bad horror movie."

"What happened?"

"This is like a bad horror movie," Tim said and laughed.

"How do you mean?"

"I just engaged in a desperate struggle for my soul and now you're asking me to relate childhood memories."

Tony laughed. "You're right. But still, Probie, if I'm going to be able to do anything, I need to know what's going on. ...at least to some degree."

"You're right," Tim said nodding.

"Where did it start?"

"In California...at a carnival..."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

25 years ago...

"My dad had just come back from his latest deployment. The carnival had come to town. It was a different one than the usual, though..."

"Step right up! Step right up! One price admission to the whole place! Enter at your own peril!"

"It felt weird. I wasn't very old but I felt the difference. There was an air about it that felt wrong..."

"Three, please. Two adults, one child."

"Ah, and a special child I can see that right away."

Naomi laughed and ruffled Tim's hair. "He is special."

"We paid and walked around. My parents never seemed to notice it, what I felt...I don't think they even saw what I saw..."

"Come into my parlor... Get a free glimpse of your future." The woman had mysterious eyes, bright green and large.

"And how much for what comes after the glimpse?" Sam asked.

"Oh, only a glimpse is all anyone can get of the future. Is that not enough?"

"The lady was friendly, more alive than anyone else in the place."

"More alive?"

"Yeah...like she seemed to have...more color over top of this dingy backdrop...and when we stepped inside..."

"Mom? Mom?" Tim tugged violently at Naomi's hand. She had frozen in place.

"She will not hear you."

Tim turned away and faced the woman. Her green eyes nearly glowed. She held out her hand and Tim backed away.

"I will not harm you. You must come and see."

"See what?"

"See what you must do. You are the hope for us to be free."

"I don't understand."

"You will in time. You will remember."

Again she held out her hand. Unsure, but somehow trusting her, Tim reached out and took her hand...

"She tattooed your hand? When you were five?"

"It didn't hurt very much. Happened in a second. Then, it was over. That was only the beginning anyway..."

"Come and look."

"What happened to my hand?"

"You are marked now with the sign of who you are."

"It looks like dragons. I'm not a dragon."

"You are three in one."

"What?"

"Mind...body...heart. Together they make your soul...a soul which can be divided...and still survive the division."

Tim didn't understand what she was saying...but there was a part of him that heard and remembered it all. She gestured toward the magic ball she had on her table. It was not crystal. It was black. Like hematite, smooth and shiny but no reflection. She waved her hand over it and a light burst out.

"This is Mongothsberd. This is where we are trapped. This is our existence, held here forever at his mercy...and he has none."

"Where is it?"

"It is at the end of Thoven Lane. It is always at the end of Thoven Lane. Sometimes, people come into it unknowing. Sometimes, he drags them, screaming for the mercy he does not possess. Sometimes, they simply disappear. We all end up in Mongothsberd."

"But where is it?"

"It is everywhere. Nowhere. Today it is here. Tomorrow it will be somewhere else. It is never in the same place twice and it only appears when he brings someone else into its borders."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Set us free."

"How?"

"You will know. That is your destiny. You are a knower, Timothy McGee. You know things with your mind, your heart, your body. All of you. It is a complete knowing and so you cannot forget."

"I forget to make my bed in the morning when Mom tells me to."

She smiled. "This is not that kind of knowing. Your sense of self, your being. It is who you are and it cannot be taken from you. Whatever you choose in your life it will define you. ...but this is the thing that has chosen you. You cannot escape this. Mongothsberd will appear when you least expect it. You cannot avoid it, no matter how you try."

Tim felt frightened and he looked up at his mother again. She was still frozen.

"I don't want..."

"We do not choose our destiny. We choose how we confront it. You may choose to run away. You will have to live with the consequences...but Mongothsberd will appear...again and again...until finally you accept either its call or its Master."

"What do I do?"

"For now, you wait. You can do nothing until it calls to you. You will have dreams to remind you, to lead you along...but in the end, only you will know what must be done. You cannot hope to do it alone. You are three in one but you must have one to help you."

"I'm strong," Tim asserted, fixating on the few parts of the conversation he understood.

Again, she smiled tenderly as if she understood how he felt.

"You are strong, but even the strong need help...and you will need help. No one can breach Mongothsberd alone. You may try but you will be repelled. You will fail."

She held out her hand again and Tim took it. Gently, the woman turned it over; the black tattoo on his palm shivered at the contact. She touched it and there was a clap of thunder...like reality breaking apart.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"And?" Tony asked.

"And I was in the car, just as we pulled up to the carnival. It was not the same carnival. It was the stereotypical bright lights, clowns, rides. My parents didn't remember anything. It hadn't happened for them." Tim paused and looked over at Tony knowingly. "Just like you don't remember me talking to the man we saw out front."

"You didn't talk to him. He didn't say anything."

"Exactly."

"Okay...so...what did he say?"

"He asked who I was...and who you were...and if I really thought I could do it this time. He asked to see the mark and I showed it to him."

"But you didn't have it until we came in!"

Tim smiled and shook his head. "No, I've always had it. No one has been able to see it...except me. I tried to show my parents but they thought I'd had a nightmare on the trip over. I thought maybe that's what it was...until the dreams started...but they weren't dreams."

Tim looked at the gray wall again and heaved himself to his feet. He wobbled a little and put his hand to his head.

"McGee...what's going to happen?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I have to try to set them free...and the way to do that in inside that room."

"That's why that...thing possessed you?"

"Yeah. He's the one who takes them."

"Why?"

"I don't know...I think he steals their souls."

"I hope you realize how–"

"–crazy this sounds? Yeah. Why do you think I didn't ever tell anyone about it...or even tell you until you had the unique opportunity of seeing me ripped into three parts? Can you imagine the reaction? 'Guess what guys, I have this tattoo on my hand. Can't see it? Well, it's there. It was given to me by this fortune teller who asked me to free her soul from a thing that has possessed her and many others.'" He arched an eyebrow at Tony. "What would you have said?"

"That you're a loony."

"I know." He limped toward the door. "I don't know what is in here. My dreams got me to this room...but not beyond." He put his hand, the tattooed hand, on the door and Tony heard a sizzling sound. "I'm afraid of what's in here, Tony. It's haunted me my whole life. It's a secret I've kept and never told to anyone because I knew they wouldn't believe me." He pulled his hand away and Tony was shocked to see Tim's tattoo burned onto the door. He turned back around. "This might end in my death...or worse, it might end in me losing my own soul...but she was right. I can't avoid it, not forever, and I won't. I will not ally myself with that thing, the Proprietor."

"Are you sure we aren't just both having some sort of crazy hallucination?"

"It might be nice to think that, but no."

"You'd rather believe that there's some soul-sucking monster running around who can only be stopped by a guy with an apparently dividable soul...and a crazy tattoo that comes alive?"

Tim looked at the door. "'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Hamlet. Act one, scene five."

"Why do I need to be here?"

"You've seen it already. I can't do this by myself. There's only so much I can do. It has to be me, but there has to be someone else to help."

"And you wouldn't have picked me?"

Tim shook his head. "No. Would you have picked you?"

Tony smiled. "No. I would have picked...well, actually, I'm not sure who I would have picked. Abby would be the most likely to accept it all...but I don't think she'd be the most likely one to be able to help."

"Exactly. I don't know who I would have picked either...which is why I tried to do it alone the first time...and I failed. I couldn't even get through the door."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen. It was right before I went off to college. I heard the name...and I had to go. No way to avoid it...but I didn't have anyone with me. I would have taken my dad...but..."

"He was paralyzed," Tony finished.

"Yeah. There was no one else I could think of to ask...so I tried to go alone, but it doesn't work that way. The man outside wouldn't even let me in. He said I would die...and not even Mongothsberd would have me. I'd be annihilated, wiped out of existence. These souls, trapped as they are, at least still exist. I'm in danger of becoming nothing."

"Then, why do it?"

"Because I don't have a choice, not really. I could choose to run, like she said, but in the end...I can't leave these people here trapped."

"Are you sure they should be set free? That lady didn't sound like the picture of innocence. What if she's evil?"

"No," Tim said and rested his head on the etched image. "No, I'm not sure. I know so little...but what I do know is that I've heard these people cry out for freedom. I can't deny them that. I can't."

Tim raised both hands and rested them on the door as well. It was fear holding him back now, fear of what would be coming, fear of the price he might have to pay to set these people free, fear of what lay behind the one door he had never opened.

"Okay, McGee. Let me help."

"How?"

"I'll help you open the door...and I'll be there for whatever craziness is coming next."

Tim straightened.

"Even if that's all you can do, Tony...that's more than I ever could have asked."

Tony smiled and together they twirled the wheel before opening the surprisingly thick door. It was like the vault of a bank or something like that. Heavy.

They both stood motionless in shock at what lay inside.