Chapter Three

in which neely is given a way out

I allow myself to be pulled along, too shocked for much else.

When had been the last time we saw Papa’s eyes clear? I can’t even remember it had been so long. I have so many questions I want to ask him while he’s returned to us. Like, why he came back without Grady? What had happened to the expedition? Is my brother still alive? Did they find the Lost City?

Papa closes the library door behind us. Dropping my hand, he strides across the room to a bookshelf.

“Oh, Sanderson. Good. You’re here.”

Sanderson stretches his impossibly long body, and is it my imagination, or does he nod in Papa’s direction?

Maybe I spoke too soon about Papa’s level-headedness. Maybe I’m more tired than I thought.

I keep my eye on Sanderson, not sure what I expect him to do, but he just crosses his front paws, watching as Papa tears through the library.

Three books fly over Papa’s shoulder, landing in a heap on the floor. I rush over and pick them up, stacking them one on top of the other. What has gotten into him? He never throws books about. Then again, I guess there’s a lot about Papa that has changed.

“Papa?” I catch a book out of midair and add it to the pile. “Can I help you find something?”

He harrumphs and turns toward me, hands on his hips. I search his eyes to make sure they are still clear. His gaze roves over the shelves, still looking for something, but his eyes are clear. “I know I put it around here somewhere.” He’s still for only one second more before going to another shelf and beginning the task of tossing books from that one as well. Sanderson joins in the search, sniffing at each book discarded on the floor. That cat is so strange.

Catching three more books, I cradle them in my arms before diving for a fourth. Missing it, I drop all the books I held, and watch as they scatter on the floor. “Papa, please!” I have never raised my voice at my father, but it would seem the situation deemed it necessary.

Papa pauses and turns. “Neely girl, you seem upset.”

“Well.” I huff out a breath, relieved to finally have stopped the tossing of the books. “I’m a little tired of this game of catch the book. If you would only tell me what you are searching for, I can assist you in finding it.”

“It’s the atlas, Neely.” Papa’s blue eyes sparkle. It almost looks as if he had too much spirits to drink — but I knew that to be impossible. Even if it were legal, Mama wouldn’t have it in the house. With his eyes clear, I know him to be in his right mind. I did not, however, know anything about an atlas.

“Atlas of what, Papa? And for atlases, you’re looking in the wrong section of the library. Do you remember you had Grady—” my voice wobbled a bit saying my brother’s name. “—and me move them over—”

Papa waved his hand, cutting me off. “No, no, no, not one of those atlases, Neely girl. The atlas.”

Frustration bubbles its way up my middle. It didn’t matter if Papa’s eyes were clear, he still spoke in gibberish. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he reassures me, turning back to the shelves and contemplating. At least he hadn’t begun throwing books over his shoulder again. “I just misplaced this one when I got back from the Lost City.”

I rush forward and grab Papa’s arm. “The Lost City, you found it?” This is the first time Papa mentions anything about his time away. “Is Grady still there? Is he alive? Why didn’t he come home with you?” I can’t help myself. All my words come tumbling out at once, afraid Papa would slip back into confusion before I had the chance to get the answers we so desperately need.

“Yes.” Is Papa’s one-word reply before he brushes past me to the place even more opposite than where we house the atlases. His answer does nothing for any of my questions. Which question did he answer “yes” to?

“Wait, Papa!” I follow him across the room. I wish I knew which atlas he’s looking for, and what did he mean he misplaced it after returning from the Lost City?

“We did find it, Neely Girl. We found it and so much more. Grady is still there, but I need you to go to him and bring him home. And to do so, you are going to need the atlas.”

My heart soars. Grady is still alive. “Why me? Why can’t you—”

“It’s all a tricky business, dealing in secrets.”

Secrets? What is he talking about? “Papa, what—”

Papa wheels around, and I almost slam right into him. “You mustn’t trust anyone, Neely. Not even your closest, oldest friends. There are secrets everywhere. Keep the atlas safe.” Eyes burning, he thrusts something into my hands. I look down to discover a worn leather notebook not much bigger than my fist. A leather cord wrapped around it, keeping its many pages from bursting forth. “The atlas will guide you where to go. You must find your brother and bring him home. Everything depends on it.”

“How am I supposed to go anywhere, Papa?” I throw up my hands, although I keep a tight grasp on the atlas. “Mama is bringing in all the eligible bachelors tomorrow afternoon to parade in front of me, and expects me to choose one for a husband.”

Papa shakes his head. “I know you. You’ll figure it out. Go as soon as you’re able. Take Sanderson with you.” His confusing instructions rush out as if he’s running out of time.

I look over at the cat, back to sleeping lazily in front of the fire. “Papa, what does Sanderson have to do with—” I turn back to my father, and I’m met once again with a cloudy gaze. “Papa?”

“Oh, hello, Neely girl.” Trapped again behind the confusion, he rocks back and forth on still bare feet. Leaning closer, he asks, “Up late researching again?”

I look down at the leather book in my hands, fingers playing with the thin strap.

“What’s that you have there?”

Tears well up in my eyes, but I bite the inside of my cheek to keep them from falling. He’s lost to us again. Unwinding the leather cord, I let the book fall open in my hands.

The pages are blank.

Papa’s face breaks out in a grin. “What a nice journal. The perfect place for your research notes.” He starts as if just seeing the carnage around him. “Oh, my. The library is a horrendous mess.” He pats me on the arm before turning and beginning to place the books back on the shelves in their proper places.

My chest tightens, looking at the blank book in front of me. He almost tore the library upside down in order to find it. And he had called it an atlas. Hadn’t he?

I flip through the pages, in case a map is hidden there. There are no maps tucked away. If Papa hadn’t been so clear-headed when he handed it to me, when he told me Grady is alive, I would have thought this to be just another one of his confusions. Could it be even in the clearness, Papa’s mind still played games?

I wouldn’t believe that. Whether it’s because Papa is breaking me from the prison Mama is forced to put me in, or because this would be an adventure I’ve only ever dreamed of, I want to believe what he said is true. Wrapping both arms around the small book, I clutch the would-be atlas to my chest as if it’s my lifeline. Because perhaps it is. This blank atlas is my ticket from the life I would be trapped in. Papa had said I needed to leave as soon as possible. Could I trust Papa? Papa, who currently flitted from stack of books to stack of books, smoothing their pages and apologizing to them as if he had personally offended the object. Maybe Papa is the last person I should trust right now—and he had told me not to trust anyone, but still, he is the one I trust the most. And if I trusted what Papa told me, that meant I needed to get out of this house tonight.

And I needed to take the blasted cat with me.

Atlas of Neely Spencer is currently being released chapter by chapter as I write it. You can read all about why I chose this format in this post. Please forgive any errors in spelling, grammar, and punctuation since this is not professionally edited. Think of it like this: you're getting to read my first-pass pages!