White Rabbit Society Part Two: White Rabbit Society, #2

By Brendan Detzner

White Rabbit Society Part Two completes the story that started in White Rabbit Society Part One. Four years have passed. With a lot a of luck and at great personal cost, Andrew has managed to not get killed. He's a magician now, for better or worse. He's knowledgeable, confident, and also ambitious, which may be the biggest danger he's had to face yet. Because there are scarier things out there than a teenager with a little magic and a chip on his shoulder, and Andrew's heading right for them.

"An AMAZING follow-up, White Rabbit Society pt2 by Brendan Detzner takes readers on an emotional ride, culminating in an ending that satisfies. This honestly is one of the best follow-ups I have read in a while."
Lulu at Roadside Reader

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brendan Detzner
• Release date: Oct 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393025627

Book preview

CHAPTER 23

#

The stranger Andrew’s life got, the more ordinary his dreams became. He tried not to spend too much time thinking about everything that had happened to him, so it all came out when he was sleeping.

#

Andrew played pool for the first time about a week or so after he moved into Thomas’ house. Pool was the only leisure activity Thomas indulged in other than reading and listening to music, and he’d insisted that Andrew learn how to play. There was a table in the basement. It was the only room of the house that was always clean.

Once Andrew had asked him if he knew how to play chess.

Chess is a children’s game, he answered. Andrew never brought it up again.

There are two kinds of magician, Thomas said, as he lined up his cue. "Corner pocket. You’ve had the most exposure to the first kind, people like your Uncle Paul. Scavengers, basically. They find out what’s worked for other people and use the knowledge themselves. Nothing wrong with that, but many of them never see the big picture. They walk the road but don’t worry about who built it.

The second kind of magician is the kind that builds the road.

The ball bounced back and forth between the corners of the pocket. The edges of the dream forced their way into the center, and Andrew saw a yacht, a bad neighborhood in Hong Kong, a mountain in Tibet, all things Thomas had told him about that he’d never seen himself.

#

He woke up. It was about eleven o’clock at night. He decided to go out. He didn’t have much to do tomorrow and could miss the sleep. He put a light on and got dressed.

He went to the garage. There were two cars: a truck and an old station wagon. He had the keys to both- he took the truck.

The first thing Thomas told him when he arrived was that there weren’t going to be any locks on the doors, any walls holding him in. The only thing keeping him here was his word.

#

After the second disaster, nobody was interested in living or owning a business anywhere near the middle of town, and for a while nobody went there. But the more time went by, the less likely it seemed that anything was going to happen. Passing through became an adventure. Somebody opened up a hamburger stand next to the glass spire. They sold beer, people showed up to buy it. The hamburger stand became a restaurant, and other places opened up nearby, competing for the same customers.

It was still essentially a ghost town, but that was part of the appeal, plenty of places to run around in and explore. As a rule, things started heating up around April and died out by September. It was late August now, and Andrew didn’t want the season to pass him by.

He parked the car. It was a clear, beautiful night; he heard the noise of the crowd and followed it. There was a big parking lot where the library used to be; it was where most of the people were. Mostly families and older couples on their way out, but there was a group of kids his own age lurking on the outskirts, waiting for things to wind down.  Andrew sat down at an unoccupied table, took out a pencil, and drew a triangle on the wood next to where he was sitting, very faintly, so that it would be impossible to notice unless you had a flashlight and were looking directly at it. He waited a minute and left in a direction different than the way he’d came.  He stopped at the bridge and looked down at the water for a few minutes. He drew a pattern on the railing and slapped his hand down on top of it.

The kids were at the table. It was the same one they’d taken last week.

No, look, I’m fucking telling you, Chicago is full of monsters...

No, you’re full of shit...

No, I’m fucking telling you...

There were four of them, two boys and two girls, a redhead and a brunette. The redhead was the girlfriend of the boy who thought there were monsters. The other girl was her friend—she was cold and tired and didn’t want to hang out anymore, but was too scared to say anything. She’d been the same way last Saturday.

My cousin lives there and he says...

That’s it, nobody’s really seen anything, it’s all something they heard...

Andrew took his hand off the railing. This was boring. It’d been boring last week and it was worse tonight. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.

He took a different route back to the car, through the park. He heard something. Pop, scrape, roll, repeat. Somebody skateboarding. He looked around and saw a kid in a hooded sweatshirt hopping off a bench next to the basketball court. He was struck by how small the kid was, like a baby with big hands and sneakers.

He got closer.

Isn’t it kind of late for you to be out here?

The kid dismounted and gave Andrew a quick look.

Fuck you. You can't tell me what to do.

Andrew pointed at the skateboard, then up at the sky. The board went flying up into the air. It fell, stopped a couple of feet above the ground and gently descended to the pavement.

Go home, Andrew said.

The kid grabbed the skateboard and ran out of the park as fast as he could.

Andrew smiled and watched him run. He shouldn’t do things like that; it was how rumors got started. But sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

#

They went to see Rose and Shadow a few days later. There was a treehouse in Rose’s backyard, nothing too fancy, a platform built around an apple tree. It was Shadow’s favorite place.

She could still beat Andrew at chess whenever she felt like it. She moved her queen and smiled.

One more time?

Sure, I’m a glutton for punishment. He took his pieces from her side of the board and started sorting them out.

What were you like when you were my age, Andrew?

Even now, Shadow’s questions tended to come out of left field. Andrew had long since gotten used to it.

Well, Thomas says you’re probably a few thousand years old, so I’m not sure what to tell you.

I mean my human age, stupid.

You want to know what I was like when I was three?

She thought about it. Yes. But that’s not what I asked. I wanted to know what you were like when you looked like me. She kept thinking and sighed. But I know I’m a girl and you’re a boy, so don’t start...

He smiled. No, I got it. He moved a pawn. Well, that was about a year before I met you. I was still living in Illinois.

Where in Illinois?

Outside Chicago. In the suburbs.

Did you like it there?

No, but I don’t know if that had anything to do with the place. It wasn’t that different from here. Maybe it would be now that I can drive.

What didn’t you like?

My parents were kind of messed up. He waited for Shadow to keep pushing, but she didn’t say anything. She could read people a lot better than she used to.

Anyway, I guess I don’t really know what I was like. I was a kid. I was worried about kid stuff.

Aren’t you still a kid?

Technically.

But you don’t feel like one.

Andrew shrugged. He didn’t have to spell everything out for her anymore either.

So you’re happier now, she continued.

Again, he didn’t answer. They sat silently for a minute and played the game.

He spoke up.

It’s not about being happy. I’m involved with things now that are important.

Like what?

Everything that Thomas does. Keeping everything at the farm from getting out or hurting anybody. That’s important.

What would you do if Thomas weren’t here?

I don’t know. I’d find something.

Something important?

Yeah, I would.

Do most people do important things?

They do the best they can.

So you mean that they don’t, usually.

Well, I think that’s...

Shadow coughed and Andrew shut up. He watched her; this might be nothing, she might be fine.

She covered her mouth with her hands and coughed again. She kept coughing; her whole body shook, like somebody was punching her in the chest over and over again. Andrew crawled over the chessboard and put his arms around her.

It’s all right, he whispered. You’re okay ...

He rested his chin on top of her head and squeezed her until she stopped moving. He pulled away. The palms of her hands were covered with tiny specks of blood.

She curled her hands into fists and ground them down into the tops of her legs.

I’m sorry...

Andrew hugged her again.

No you’re not. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.

He stared at the back of the house through the leaves.

#

Thomas was at the kitchen table, sipping tea and looking out the window. He was wearing a new pair of jeans and a green shirt- ever since Andrew had moved in he’d made an effort to get dressed every morning.

Has the girl grown at all?

Rose shook her head.

She’s the same now as the day she moved in here.

Her face was the same, her height was the same. They’d had to pull her out of school a few months ago—they’d felt bad about it, she liked it there, but she was standing out too much.

I think Andrew is going to run away, Thomas said.

He waited for her. She was as sharp now as she had always been, but the accident had taken her ability to be quick.

Her accident- that was what they called it.

You’re paranoid. How long have you been thinking like this?

For a couple of weeks.

And you didn’t tell me last Sunday?

He shrugged. Rose started thinking about what to say next, but got lost somewhere. She stared off into space. Her eyes were on the window, but they got no further than the glass.

Thomas put his hand on her shoulder. She kept staring. It migrated to her jaw and she came back.

She sighed, took Thomas’ hand in hers, and put it down on the table.

You shouldn’t get frustrated, Thomas said. You’ve been doing better.

I’m a fucking wreck, Thomas.

He didn’t try to talk her out of it; they’d been this way before. They sat silently and looked out at the treehouse.

What are you thinking about? asked Rose.

Greece, Thomas answered.

They’d met in Greece, a long time ago.

#

Andrew started lifting at five o’clock the following morning. He worked out until he was too sore to keep going, stopped by his room to grab some clothes, and took a shower. By the time he went to the kitchen for breakfast, Thomas was just getting up. They ate cold cereal. The sun had not yet risen.

Anything going on today I should know about?

Thomas shook his head.

No.

They finished eating and went out to the pond. Thomas checked the temperature, then Andrew, each independently to make sure there were no mistakes. After that they went into the basement.

There were actually two basements, two stairwells connected to separate rooms. One of them held the pool table and some bookshelves. The other one was the area Andrew had visited when he’d first come here, a long narrow hallway lined with doors that were never supposed to be opened.

Andrew visited them one at a time. Each door had its own ritual, a chant or a pattern that needed to be retraced or changed or concentrated on. Thomas didn’t do anything, he just watched.

Head on up, he said, as soon as Andrew was done. I want a minute alone to check something.

Andrew nodded and went upstairs. Thomas went to the end of the hall and opened one of the doors.

Inside was a metal desk with many, many piles of books on top of it. Some of them were hundreds of years old, others Thomas had written himself. He had not set foot in this room for more than a year. The things he kept here he would be happy to destroy, if he could be absolutely sure he’d never need them again.

The last time he’d been in here, everything had been covered with dust. Now the room was spotless.

#

They spent the next few hours in the library. Learning how to handle the day-to-day maintenance of the basement and the pond and everything else had only taken Andrew a few weeks. The difficult part was learning how to deal with emergencies. He’d read a lot of books over the last two years. Once, early on, he’d tried to explain to Thomas that he wasn’t actually much of a reader, that it was really Josh that’d been good at that. Thomas stared at him until he shut up, then told him to get back to work.

There were some things that still took him longer than most people, so he spent more time on them. That was all it really took, and Thomas never cared how long it took him to learn something, so it wasn’t a problem.

That’ll do, Thomas said.

Andrew nodded and snapped his fingers. The book he’d been reading rose up into the air and slid into an empty place on the shelf. He snapped his fingers again and felt the familiar wrap itself around his shoulder.

What now?

Outside. I want to work on the blindness spell.

They went upstairs, out into the yard, and took their positions on opposite sides of the pond. There was no reason they had to do this here, it was just a good way to mark distance.

Andrew closed his eyes, cleared his head. When you did the blindness spell you had to be sure you were relaxed. Things could go wrong otherwise, if you were scared or angry.

He pushed his hand towards Thomas and exhaled. He opened his eyes. He could see. Thomas closed his eyes, breathed in, breathed out. The darkness ate away at Andrew’s vision. He breathed in, breathed out. It came back. Back and forth, just like that for two hours.

Andrew rubbed his temples, let the feeling come back to his body. He was happy, satisfied. It had taken him forever to learn how to do that. He walked back around to the side of the pond nearest to the house.

He was still a little dizzy. Thomas said something, but he wasn’t paying attention and missed it.

I need to talk to you, Thomas repeated.

Andrew felt a hole open up in his chest.

You look as though you have some idea what’s on my mind.

A red light mounted on the pedestal near the pond began to flash. Thomas and Andrew looked down at the pond. There were tiny bubbles rising to the surface.

They moved in opposite directions. Thomas kneeled down and started chanting. Andrew ran over to a brown compost bag leaning against the house and dragged it closer to the water. He tipped it over. It was full of rock salt. He shoveled it into the pool with his hands, as fast as he could.

The surface of the water stopped moving. It swelled like gelatin. Thomas kept chanting. Andrew ran over to the pedestal and flipped a switch on the side; a faint moan filled the air as the batteries kicked in. There were machines buried all around the pond sending out radio waves that were supposed to blind anything coming through the portal.

He heard someone talking, a whisper in his left ear.

I can’t see... I know there’s something there but I can’t see...

The water in the center of the pond began to change shape. A still-transparent piece of it rose up into the air, connected to the rest by a thin cord. It was roughly the size of a watermelon. Within a minute it had taken the shape of an enormous human eye.

The thing