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Charlotte raised her voice “Haworth! Yorkshire! England! You were there, Crash Where breathers come from!”
“Oh,” Sergeant Crashey said quietly He plunked down his head in his hands and grinned Charlotte reminded herself to ask the Quartermaster to ed bandage looked too wretched “Oh, that” He scratched his chin “It did look a bit dullerydag for Angria But I never have traveledafter Brunty to make the arrest in the name of the Duke Ended up in the wilderness, is all”
Dr Ho been theorized bywell, by abstract thinkersthat Glass Town and Gondal are not the onlyahemrealities in the cosmos”
“Theories” Crashey shrugged “Can’t kick off your shoes at the end of the day without whacking a theory in the head with ’eh Always thought the world’d be a prettier place if it were true”
Dr Hooes that neorlds are being created all the ti in the void as there are votive candles alight in St Paul’s Cathedral”
“And how are these worlds created? In your theory, I mean,” Charlotte asked
“Oh, it’s not matic But as far as I understand it, there’s no special rite or ritual Neorlds justcome on in the dark like fireflies Every time a choice between two roads is made, a universe fires up to follow each path Every tiins or ends Every ti stories for his dolls Nothing is too soes Each beautiful in its way Soe that they would be, to us, as we are to lantern fish under the sea Some even speculate that e call heaven and hell are merely other worlds such as this, and death is but a swift carriage from here to there”
“There must be another way to travel between these places,” Charlotte said “Other than by dying oror by” Charlotte’s voice died in her throat This was the moment She could either say it all at last or keep mum Would they believe her? Would it matter if they didn’t? Did it actually matter at all that they’d made this world in their little house above the churchyard in Haworth? Crashey and Bravey and Wellington and Lord Byron and Leftenant Gravey and Brunty the Stonking Great Tome and sweet, vain Ginevra Bud, and wonderful Bestminster were all just as real as Tabitha or Aunt Elizabeth or Papa Had she any right to tell theames and stories? Did it really matter, in the end, if they were? Everybody was soame or story Everybody was made by someone else, even if it was only their mother and father It didn’t make them any less real
A savage pinch snapped Charlotte out of her thoughts and back to the roaring sea and the racing ship A pinch worthy of Branwell Emily had crowded in while she was off in the wilds of her own eant waved hullo and went on arguing the finer points of theoretical planes of existence, each trying to out-lecture the other
“Don’t you dare,” Eot her bony fingers underneath the velvet officer’s coat Charlotte yelped softly E and half really, actually furious Her long hazelnut-colored hair rippled down over the gold braid on her jacket “You were going to tell! Withoutto ask first!”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were so!” Emily whispered close to Charlotte’s ear “I can’t believe it After all this tiht to decide by yourself, Charlotte! This isn’t just your place; it’s ours, all of us together! It started with four children and twelve wooden soldiers, not one and one! If you want to lay our cards on their table, there has to be a vote And since Branwell and Anne aren’t here for a Thump Parliament, the least you could do is do a quick straw poll of me”
“It’s a hypothesis, Crashey, you stuone, replaced by one that sounded like everyone’s angry uncle at Christmas Charlotte rather liked the new Dr Home “It’s not even my hypothesis! Take it up with Miss Jane; it was her stupid idea in the first place! Don’t you read the journals I send you?”
“Miss Jane?”
“Oh, don’t let the fan fool you,” the doctor said ruefully “It hides a mind like a porcupine That’s the whole purpose of a fan She only faints when she needs a moment to think in peace”