He had so much more to say to all of them. But before he could, Apollo growled, going to the window that looked out to the front of the tea shop. The hands of the clock began to stutter as time slowed down.
“No,” he whispered as a blue light began to fill Charon’s Crossing. “Not yet. Please, not yet—”
Apollo howled, a long and mournful sound as the light faded. The clock froze completely, the hands unmoving.
A light tapping on the door: thump, thump, thump.
Hugo rose slowly from his chair, footsteps heavy as he walked toward the door. He hung his head, his hand on the doorknob.
He opened it.
The Manager stood on the porch. He wore a shirt that read IF YOU THINK I’M CUTE, YOU SHOULD SEE MY AUNT. Flowers hung from his hair, opening and closing, opening and closing.
“Hugo,” the boy said in greeting. “How nice to see you again. You’re doing well, I see. Or as well as can be expected.”
Hugo took a step back but didn’t respond.
The Manager walked into the tea shop, the floor creaking under his bare feet, the walls and ceiling beginning to ripple as they had before. He looked at each of them in turn, gaze lingering on Mei before turning to Nelson and Apollo, who growled at him but kept his distance.
“Good dog,” the boy said.
Apollo barked savagely in response.
“Well, mostly a good dog. Mei, you’ve taken to this Reaper business like a fish to water. I knew assigning you to Hugo was the right thing to do. I’m impressed.”
“Frankly, I don’t give two shits what you—”
“Ah,” the boy said. “No need for that. I am your boss, after all. I’d hate to think you’d need a mark on your permanent record.” He sniffed. “Nelson. Still here, I see. How … expected.”
“Damn right I am,” Nelson growled. He pointed his cane at the Manager. “And don’t think you’re going to be making anyone do anything they don’t want to do. I won’t have it.”
The boy stared at him for a long moment. “Interesting. I actually believed that threat, as inconsequential as it was. Please remember there is little you could do to me that would stop what must happen. I am the universe. You’re a speck of dust. I like you, Nelson. Please don’t make me regret that.”
Nelson eyed him warily, but didn’t reply.
The Manager approached the table. Wallace sat stock-still as Hugo closed the door. The lock clicked.
The boy stopped at the table across from Wallace, inspecting the teapot and cups. He traced a finger along the spout of the pot. He caught a drop of liquid from the tip before pressing it against his tongue. “Peppermint,” he said, sounding amused. “Candy canes. Isn’t that right, Wallace? Your mother made them in the kitchen in winter. How strange it is that a memory so comforting comes from someone you grew to despise.”
“I don’t despise her,” Wallace said stiffly.
The boy arched an eyebrow. “Is that so? Why not? She was, at best, distant. Both of your parents were. Tell me, Wallace, what will you do when you see them again? What will you say?”
He hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t know what that made him.
The boy nodded. “I see. Well, I suppose that’s better left to you than me. Have a seat, Hugo, so that we may begin.”
Hugo walked back to the table, pulling the chair out before sitting back down, expression blank and cold. Wallace hated to see it on him.
The boy clapped his hands. “That’s better. Hold on just a second.” He went to the table near them, pulling the chair out and dragging it along the floor back to their table. He pushed it between Mei and Nelson before he climbed onto it, sitting on his knees. He rested his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands. “There. Now we’re all the same. I’d like a cup of tea. I always did like your tea, Hugo. Would you pour it for me?”
And Hugo said, “No. I won’t.”
The boy blinked slowly, his eyelashes black soot against golden skin. “What was that?” he asked, voice pitched high and sweet, like candy-coated razors.
“You’re not getting tea,” Hugo said.
“Oh.” The boy cocked his head. “Why not?”
“Because you’re going to listen to me, and I don’t want you distracted.”
“Ooh,” the boy breathed. “Is that right? This should be interesting. You’ve got my attention. Go ahead. I’m listening.” He cast a sly glance at Wallace before looking back at Hugo. “But I’d hurry if I were you. Appears our Wallace here is having a hard time staying seated. I wouldn’t want him to float away while you’re … how do you all put it? Giving me the ol’ what for.”
Hugo folded his hands on the table in front of him, the pads of his thumbs pressed together. “You lied to me.”
“Did I? About what, exactly?”
“Cameron.”
“Ah,” the Manager said. “The Husk.”
“Yes.”
“He went through the door.”
“Because we helped him.”
“Did you?” He tapped his fingers against his cheeks. “Fascinating.”
Wallace felt like screaming, but he kept his mouth closed. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him, not when this counted more than anything. And he trusted Hugo with every fiber of his being. Hugo knew what he was doing.
Hugo’s voice was even when he said, “You let him be as he was. You told me there was nothing we could do.”
“Did I say that?” the Manager chuckled. “I suppose I did. Glad to know you were listening.”
“You could’ve stepped in at any time to help him.”
“Why would I have done that?” the Manager asked, sounding baffled. “He made his choice. As I told Wallace, free will is paramount. It’s vital for—”
“Until you decide that it’s not,” Hugo said flatly. “This isn’t a game. You don’t get to pick and choose when you intervene.”
“Don’t I?” the boy asked. He glanced around at the others as if to say Can you believe this guy? His gaze lingered on Wallace for a moment before he looked back at Hugo. “But, for the sake of argument, why don’t you tell me what I, an endless being of dust and stars, should’ve done.”
Hugo leaned forward, face stony. “He was suffering. Lost. My former Reaper knew that. He fed off it. And still you did nothing. Even after Cameron turned into a Husk, you didn’t lift a finger. It wasn’t until Lea that you decided to do something about it. It should never have taken that long.”
The boy scoffed. “Perhaps, but it all worked out in the end. Lea’s mother is on the road to healing. Cameron found himself again and continued his journey to the great and wild beyond. I don’t see the problem here. Everyone is happy.” He grinned. “You should feel proud of yourself. Kudos all around. Hooray!” He clapped his hands.
“Could you have helped him?” Mei asked.
The Manager turned his head slowly toward her.
She didn’t look away.
“Well,” the Manager said, dragging the word out for several syllables. “I mean, sure, if we’re getting down to brass tacks. I can pretty much do anything I want to.” He narrowed his eyes. Wallace felt a chill run down his spine as the boy’s voice became clipped. “I could have stopped your parents from dying, Hugo. I could’ve kept Wallace’s heart beating its jazzy little jam. I could’ve grabbed Cameron by the scruff of his neck the day he decided to flee and forced him through the door.”