Curse of the Midions by Brad Strickland

that was more than a hundred and fifty years ago!”
    Betsy shook her head. “Don’t work that way, cully. Look, there’s time, see, an’ there’s book time. This here’s book time, time created by the magic of that book there. The ones that come through from the other side of the book stay the same, see? They don’t get no older. Their children, though, well, we grow up and grow old and we die, see? Don’t ask me how it works. I don’t have the art of it and couldn’t tell you. Anyway, it’s all account of the art and the book there.”
    â€œI don’t know anything about that. Siyamon told me to look in the book, and it dragged me here somehow.”
    â€œThat’s the art working, see? The magic, I guess you’d call it. This Siyamon, he wanted to get rid of you for some reason, and he used the book to send you here. You were going to be a Transport. But here’s the thing, see: Every Midion, so they say, writes his own chapter in that book. Every chapter leads to a different world, see? Your Midion, your Siyamon, must have been tryin’ to send you to his chapter, not to ours. You tricked him, though. First one I ever heard of that got the best of a Midion, so good for you, cully.”
    â€œHow did I trick him?” Jarvey asked.
    â€œWell, see, you brought the book along with you. And that makes you valuable to Nibs and valuable to us, doesn’t it? You know, some of the lot last night was for scragging you and—”
    â€œWhat’s that mean?”
    â€œKilling you,” she said with a shrug. “Scragging you and takin’ the book. But no, I told ’em. I know the power of that thing. My own mother, see, she was Transported.”
    Jarvey shook his head and hoped his expression didn’t look as dumb as he felt.
    Irritation quirked the corner of Betsy’s mouth. “Transported? Like you was. Brought here to Lunnon she was, from elsewhere, like all the first people. To help start old Midion’s world, like. He used his book and he brought her here.” Betsy balled her right hand into a fist and pounded it on her knee. “Mam hadn’t done nothin’ wrong, see? She just got caught by old Midion’s lackeys, an’ next thing she knows, she’s through the book an’ into Lunnon. Like all the firsts. My dad, well, I dunno. I think he was born here, though. He got Mill-Pressed when I was just a littl’un. You get Mill-Pressed, you don’t get to talk to your family at all, and no news of you gets out, barrin’ one of your mates gets released and dares to tell your wife or husband about you. Nobody ever told Mam. Dad may be dead by now. Probably is.”
    Jarvey felt a faint stirring of hope. “Where’s your mother?”
    Betsy stood up. “Enough questions, cully.”
    Jarvey got to his feet, his face hot. “Look, don’t keep calling me that, okay? I have a name. What’s it mean, anyway? Cully?”
    With a shake of her head, Betsy said, “Somebody green and not knowin’. Somebody a stranger, but not a threat. It’s kind of matey, but kind of sneering, tell you truth. Not a bad name. But what do you want me to call you, then?”
    â€œJarvey will do.”
    â€œRight, then, Jarvey. Now look, do you know the spell of words to use to work that book or no? You said you didn’t, but now it’s just us, so tell me true.”
    â€œI don’t know any magic,” Jarvey said. “If I did, I wouldn’t stay here another second.”
    â€œKnow any of the art at all?”
    Jarvey hesitated. Broken windows, blown light-bulbs, exploding baseball bats . . . melting candles. But he said gruffly, “I thought magic wasn’t real. Just stuff in books and movies and like that. I never even believed in it until all this happened.”
    Betsy reached out and grabbed Jarvey’s arm, hard. “Then you need help. All right. I