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Author's Chapter Notes:

Now that Harry Potter month is winding down, I have some free time to direct my energies elsewhere. This chapter isn't as long as I would have liked it to be, but I'm happy with how it turned out.

For Julie, Ashley, Sarah, Elise, and Moppy. Sorry to make you girls wait so long~ And to anyone reading this for the first time, welcome.

I'll try not to make you wait so long for the next one. 

 



After scrambled eggs and washing the dishes (Lene let Nick "unlock" the sink by himself), they wandered down the street looking for another home to explore. At first Nick wanted to go from house to house, one-by-one down the street, and explore each but his nine-year-old companion instead chose a little cottage-style home nestled between two larger ones.

"'Sides," she told him, "you don't wanna get all tired out from practicing too much at first. Papa and Mama always made me do things the normal way if they thought I was getting tired from using alotta magic at once."

The cottage was painted a fading yellow with brown trim that had begun to peel. Its front door, also peeling, was locked and Lene put her hand up to open it. "Unlocking things that are actually locked locked is harder than opening things that are 'locked,'" she explained. "Know what I mean?"

"I think so," Nick said. "You mean that if something is physically locked, instead of 'locked' by Other World, then it's harder to open, right?"

"Right, you have to actually make all the pieces inside move around," Lene nodded as the knob clicked and she swung the door open. "Making things move is harder than unlocking them."

They entered the parlor and Nick gladly removed his sneakers, which were still damp from fording the river, and deposited them in the front entrance. The first room of the house was neatly furnished with comfortable couches and bookshelves that were filled with hard-bound tomes.

"Hey, books" Nick exclaimed, shutting the door behind him. He went up to a shelf and pulled one down, opening it to reveal blank pages, and looked over at Lene. "It's just like the last time I found some books. They're all empty; do you think this can be opened?" he asked.

She reached out and grabbed a book from one of the lower shelves. "Let's try it and find out."

With a nod Nick closed the book, placed his hand on the cover, and went through the process of unlocking. Then he flipped open the tome.

It was still blank. "Oh," he said, disappointed. "I guess not then."

Lene looked up at him from her own book, held open in her small hands, its pages filled with text. "Try it again," the child encouraged. "Unlocking a book is different from unlocking a telephone or cupboard. You hafta find that special sound it makes. So don't just give up on it after the first time. It takes practice."

Nodding, he gave it another shot and when he opened the book again, words filled its pages. "...The Swiss Family Robinson," Nick read off the title. "Hey! I know this one; it's about... it's about this family on a ship, and they get stranded on an island so they have to survive there. I've read this before, a long time ago," he said. Nick slipped the novel back onto the bookshelf in its spot and noticed that the story's title was now embossed on its spine. Wondering what other books he might recognize, Nick reached for another, unlocked it, and flipped it open. "Lord of the Flies... looks like it's another book that takes place on an island." He thought about it for a while then said, "Hm, I don't think I've ever read this one, though."

Lene grabbed a novel off the shelf and held it open. "...Brave New World?" she read.

"...I haven't read that one before either." Nick continued to try the various books on the shelves but didn't recognize very many texts they uncovered. "Well, I guess I'm not much of a reader then," he said, disappointed. Nick had almost hoped that he was gaining back his memories from the past, but since he didn't seem to be particularly well-read, more often than not he couldn't recognize the novels they uncovered. He set the book he was holding, 'Frankenstein,' back on its shelf and turned to Lene. "So, are you going to start training me?" he asked.

"What do ya mean, Nick? This is training!" she told him. "Every time you try to unlock something, you get better at unlocking that kind of thing. Pretty soon, you'll be a master at opening books and they'll just unlock super fast."

"Your parents must have been really good teachers," Nick commented, "since you know so much about the process."

Lene shook her head, "No, I told you, remember? My parents liked to let me figure things out by myself. Mostly they just gave me small hints, unless I was doing something not safe."

"So how did you figure out all this stuff about unlocking? On your own?" he asked, amazed.

The girl shrugged, "I guess. I dunno when I first started understanding it; I've been unlocking things since I can remember, so I've just always known about it."

"Oh." It made sense, Nick supposed. After all, she had been unlocking things for him since she was a baby, and now that she was nine, nearly ten, it was probably second nature to her. "So what's next?" he asked.

"I guess we'll just go through the whole house, and you can try unlocking everything. It's a small house, so you shouldn't get too tired, and I can help you with the hard stuff until you get better at using your powers by yourself," the girl said. "Then after a while, you can even use them without thinking hard about it or getting tired. It just gets natural."

"All right, but I don't think it'll tire me that much, so let's move on to a bigger house afterward, 'kay?" Nick doubted that he would be worn out from the practice; after all, he was much larger than Lene was and it took a lot more to fatigue him out than it did her. He wanted to go to several houses that day and train himself as much as and as quickly as possible. Somewhere in his gut instinct he knew that controlling his magic was essential.

Even so, by the time they'd gone through most of the books then moved on to unlocking the fridge and opening every single cupboard and drawer in the kitchen and pantry, Nick felt like he'd just run a marathon. It wasn't even a particularly large kitchen, but Lene had allowed him to open everything on his own, offering her assistance only when Nick was so frustrated that he wanted to sink to the floor and admit defeat.

"Why am I so tired?" he moaned, struggling with the freezer until he turned red in the face. When he finally managed it, the kitchen was done and Nick dragged himself to the first bedroom he could find.

"It takes a lot more energy if you mess up than if you do it right on the first time," Lene acknowledged then added bluntly, "and ya did mess up a whole lot."

She skipped along cheerily behind him, and he wanted to glare at her for being so lively while he was left fatigued, but even that seemed to require too much energy. Nick opened the bedroom door and flopped down on the mattress there, which was too short and caused his feet to hang off the end. He buried his face in the soft pillows, the combined exhaustion of their travels and the strain of magic taking their toll. The bed seemed so comfortable Nick was convinced that getting up again was clearly not worth the effort. He decided that he could move to a different room later if he wanted to, but at the moment all he wanted was to take a nap.

"I'm gonna close my eyes... just for a little bit, kid," he yawned. "Don't let me sleep too long, yeah?" He barely heard Lene's response as he was covered in the sweet rush of darkness.

It was the crash of dishes that woke Nick several hours later; another crash, and he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. The room was much darker than it had been when he'd entered the bedroom that afternoon, the fading light outside casting shadows across the floor. Why had Lene allowed him to sleep so long?

"I thought I asked her to wake me up," Nick muttered groggily.

His entire body felt lethargic but there was another shattering of glass, which had him up and out the door, heading for the kitchen as he realized that something might be amiss. Is it that Günter guy? Is he here? he worried and called down the hall, "Lene? Lene, are you okay?"

When he reached the kitchen, Nick found the nine-year-old on her hands and knees with a dustpan, scrambling to tidy an assortment of broken glass and china. She looked up at him, flushed and agitated, and said, "Sorry, I was so noisy and made you wake up. I'll clean it."

Relieved that the girl was safe, he dropped to his knees beside her and removed the dustpan from her hands. "Hey, don't worry. I got it, kid. Besides, don't want you to cut yourself." Carefully, he began to collect the shards of glass and ceramic together.

When the nearest pile of debris was gathered up, he rocked back on his heels and looked at his companion who, despite all reassurances, continued to appear flustered. Nick reached a hand out in concern and swept her bangs aside to find that her forehead was covered with a thin sheen of cold sweat. Her face was pale and gray now that the redness was beginning to subside, and wisps of dark curls clung to her damp cheeks and neck. "Are you okay? What's wrong, is it because of the broken dishes?" Lene nodded. "Well, would you mind telling me what you were doing here then?" he asked gently.

"I – I can show you," she told him and straightened to her feet.

Nick watched as Lene reached one hand toward an open cabinet of dishes that he had unlocked earlier that day. The nine-year-old's face was set in concentration, the very tip of her small, pink tongue peaking out from the corner of her determined mouth. He was distracted by the serious expression on Lene's face and nearly missed seeing a dinner plate float from its shelf, cross the room, and land unsteadily on the counter opposite, where a stack of assorted dishes and tumblers were already placed. Nick's jaw dropped.

"How did you – ?! But you could barely move that carton of eggs this morning and now you're making things fly around. You moved all those across the room?" He motioned at the collection of dinnerware on the counter in awe.

"'Cept the ones on... the floor," Lene panted. "I was practicing. It was... slow at first, but now I can make things move faster. S'just... a little bit shaky. I started dropping 'em, didn't mean to wake you up."

"That's because you're tired, baby," Nick observed. She was beginning to wobble on her small legs, and he gathered her into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom. "Weren't you the one getting on my case about wearing myself out? Come on, let's get you to bed."

"But –"

"No buts," he interrupted. "Don't worry, I'll take care of cleaning the mess."

Once he had settled the girl into bed and was sure she had gone to sleep, Nick returned to the kitchen to take care of the remaining broken dishes on the floor. He swept the mess – a medley of glass tumbler shards and chipped porcelain – into the dustpan, marveling at the abilities of his young friend. When he'd first met Lene, Nick had believed that she could fill empty spaces and make broken things work. But in actuality her power went beyond that; she could open things that were already present but locked away by Other World's enchantment. Now Lene was displaying a new kind of magic, making things around her move – from the tumblers of locked doorknobs to plates sent flying across the room. What sort of magic was this and what other kinds of power did she have? Lene had told him before that she didn't know what she could do until she tried. Did this mean that her gifts were endless?

And what about me? Nick wondered. Lene had proven to him that he could use magic, so was he capable of the same things as she? Not to mention, there were still so many questions left unanswered. No matter how many new puzzles arose, the underlying ones remained: Why was he here in Other World? What did Günter want with him? And most importantly...

Who am I?

With a sigh, Nick rose to his feet and discarded the last of the broken dinnerware in the trash. There were only a few more dishes left in the cabinet; the rest had been transported to the countertop across the room. He eyed the stack of plates thoughtfully then raised his hand, as Lene had, and concentrated. Nick wasn't sure what he was doing or how to make it work, but his eyes narrowed and he listened for that special note that he knew to look for when unlocking things.

There. What next?

He bit his lower lip and focused as hard he could on making those dishes on the counter move. Slowly, the dinnerware rattled and inched towards him. Nick's eyes widened in surprise but he tried to stay focused, holding onto the note in his head until a strange pressure began to develop in his ears. A thrumming sound grew as he strained against the pressure and finally Nick could hold on no more. He released the connection; the dishes halted, perched precariously at the edge of the countertop.

They wobbled slightly and Nick realized what would happen next. He dashed forward to catch them but was too late and the whole lot came crashing down, shattering across the tile he had just swept clean. Panting slightly – partially from his sudden sprint, partially from the effort it had taken to move the stack of plates mere inches across the counter – Nick surveyed the damage and hoped that he hadn't woken Lene.

It was back to cleaning for him.