“ ’Scuse me. Kindly don’t talk about me like I’m not here. Also, what about my point? If Catskill can’t catch it or force it out, what hope do we have? There’s nothing we can do to it that Catskill couldn’t have managed.”
“You’re thinking too simply, Mr. Green,” Valentina said. “You’re thinking of physicality, of strength and speed. Yet, the fawn isn’t a rogue mountain lion. It is not a part of our reality. It is operating under a different set of rules. As such, we may not need to force the fawn to do anything, nor physically catch it in order to remove the threat. As we discussed, the fawn and the hole may well be codependent phenomena. That is our current working theory. The fawn’s continued existence here is likely reliant on the hole’s presence and, unlike the fawn, the hole cannot evade us.”
Green ran fingers through his hair and shut his eyes, trying to digest the information.
“Look, kid,” Clara said. “Think of that fawn’s enduring existence in our world like a string of unearthly, paradoxical Christmas lights. That Hole in Nothing is the extension cord connecting those lethal lights to some sort of unfathomable power outlet beyond the bounds of our universe. You close the hole, the cord is cut. Pop. Out go the lights.”
Green sighed.
“I wonder how hard it would be to get my old job back,” he said.
Clara chuckled.
“It gets easier,” she said. “The point is, that thing only gets to remain here because it is maintaining some kind of unbroken connection with an elsewhere place where its existence makes sense.Otherwise, our reality would have spit it back out through a variety of methods. Your wolf is one of those methods.”
“Hang on, this is all well and good, but if I’m remembering correctly, the one reliable tactic we know of for closing these rifts involves a suicidal trip through that doorway, right? Did Valentina tell you what that thing did to the stuff we tossed through? The slime? The sparks? All the times nothing at all came back?”
Valentina frowned. She huddled down into her coat, despite the thrumming heaters.
“Ms. Rodriguez is well aware,” Valentina said. “Again, we have not quite exhausted all our options.”
“Just for a lark, let’s start with the ideal-case scenario,” Clara said. “How is this solved if everything goes just exactly how we would like?”
“The fawn chooses to leave and the rift closes behind it,” Valentina said.
“I’m guessing that is what happened with Catskill’s mother,” Green said. “Catskill is terrifying and his mother was, apparently, an order of magnitude more terrifying. I bet she gave it plenty of good reasons to leave.”
“And your new friend hasn’t been able to do the same?”
A strange, bitter indignance ran through him and he had to shake off a rising anger.
“No. Not yet. He thinks of it as a stalemate.”
“Do you know how long ago the mother forced it out?”
“Not really. I saw the memory. But Catskill thinks of saber-toothed tigers as recent residents, so it’s hard for me to get a sense of timescale while in his head.”
“Hmm. Well, Valentina has tried flowing water and matter stitching to close the hole,” Clara said. “She tried willing it shut, too, but I’ve suggested some ways to make another attempt more efficacious.”
Valentina nodded, but looked doubtful.
“That will be our best bet at present,” Clara added. “She canattempt to employ willpower from much nearer the doorway. I’m guessing proximity is a factor. And, Val, try that poultice recipe I sent. It smells like low tide but the Kelleys swore by it for enhancing their intention focus while doing metaphysical work.”
Green looked to his teacher. She looked paler than usual and her tired eyes made him wonder if she had stayed awake while the spore-log toxin ran its course.
“Not our best bet,” Valentina said. “Though certainly our preferred method.”
Clara furrowed her brow.
“This isn’t the Lake Itasca Mist-Arch, Val. I don’t think closing this one from within is a real option. Not with any expectation of survival, even for you.”
“You wouldn’t actually consider going into that thing, right?” Green asked.
“I’m going to remind the two of you that this isn’t an academic question. Lives are at stake. Perhaps more. We have a responsibility to solve this. Remember, despite the popular modern self-deception, we are not separate from nature. We are also part of this world’s defenses.”
“We know, Teacher,” Clara said. “Let’s just put potentially deadly plans a little further down our list of strategies for now, eh?”
Green imagined stepping into the coroner’s van and lifting the white sheet. He imagined a different reality in which a group of college kids were driving away from Kinkaid Cabins, a little hungover and smelling of campfire smoke. He imagined Kyle Cartwright, at home with his family, cooking dinner and daydreaming of his next fishing trip. He imagined the day he fell in front of the bus, but this time he left work and, on a whim, took a taxi home.
