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The door opened into sunshine.

That was at the same time the best and worst thing Abigail could think of. She dragged Liv into the sunshine, refusing to let go of her arm.

They were in an atrium, one a lot like the center of their mall – the mall they’d started out in. Sunlight poured in from the windows above. Trees grew up and over the center garden, and fountains bubbles and burbled through the trees.

Abigail looked up; the glass in the windows looked intact. She looked around; the floor was clean and she could see lights on. Those seemed like good signs.

“I don’t hear any people,” Liv whispered. “The fountains are really loud, but there’s no people.”

“One thing at a time. There’s also not nightmare clowns following us. Okay, let’s head this way…”
She was picking a direction more or less at random at this point. Maybe they’d run into a friendly shopkeeper. She hoped to everything she could think of to hope to that they didn’t run into any Beavers.

Rather than Beavers, the first thing they ran into was Vic Carter and three of her cronies. Abigail stopped dead, but Vic didn’t look at them and neither did the cronies. They walked along, down the center of the hall, not talking, not really seeming to see anything. Vic was smiling, not her normal sneer but a plastic expression.

Actually, Abigail considered, as she side-stepped to get a better look, all three of them looked plastic. Their clothes were shop-window fresh – Tammy Molner’s was even pinned a bit in the back, like they did on the mannequins – their walk was a little stiff, and their smiles were fake and silent.

“Did you-” she whispered to Liv. Liv wasn’t paying attention to her. Abigail turned to see what her friend was looking at.

Kevin. Kevin and Tommy and their friend Greg. Or, at least, that was Kevin’s distinctive Roman nose and Tommy’s short flat-top and Greg’s blue eyes. But they were wearing Tommy Hilfiger clothes, not Hot Topic and thrift-store and House of Guitars T’s. They were walking stiffly, not ambling. And they were all wearing little plastic Ken-doll smiles.

“Tommy?” Liv called out, before Abigail could even think about stopping her. “Tommy Bellaforte?”

He turned towards her. His eyes settled on her. The three of them started moving towards Abigail and Liv.

“Liv?” Abby was squeaking. She was fine with that. “Run.”

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Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI
Part VII
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“Liv!” Abigail got both hands on Liv’s arm and pulled backwards with all her weight. They went sprawling as Liv suddenly stopped fighting her, landing almost at the railing. The old shop was quiet and empty again, the gate hung half-open.

Liv shook herself. “What…?”

“I don’t know, but don’t wander off without me, okay? And don’t let me wander off either.” Abigail wasn’t so certain she needed the minding, but it seemed only fair. “Look, Rue 21. We find that, you’re right, maybe we can find something safer.”

“Or maybe we find the nightmare version of the mall-behind-the-mall,” Liv pointed out, with far too much validity. “What if we leave the mall?”

“Thing is, if we leave the mall, we’re not going to find your mother waiting for us, and how do we get back to OUR mall?”

“Well,” Liv considered, “Maybe the outside is all the same? Maybe it’s all one mall and Mom will really be out there, waiting impatiently? Because I’ve got no cell service.”

“Maybe she is,” Abigail allowed, “but if she isn’t, what happens then? Let’s try Rue 21 first? And then if that doesn’t work, we try something else. But we stick together, okay?” She took Liv’s hand. There was nobody here to say that they were being weird, acting more like girlfriends or little kids than they were like teenage friends.

And if anyone was here to say that, well, Abigail lifted her chin, let them. There were more important things in life, after all. Like surviving the mall.

Something was laughing at them from behind another mostly-closed store grate. Abigail held Liv’s hand a little tighter as they moved towards where Rue 21 ought to be.

Where it wasn’t, of course, because this wasn’t even the closed-and-creepy version of their mall. There was a record store there, seriously, who sold records?

On the other hand, there was a nice big dead potted plant, and behind that there was one of those doors like the one they’d gone through. “Here’s hoping,” Abigail muttered, and swung the door open.

Grey, dark halls greeted them, dark hallways that seemed to echo with their steps. Abigail clung to Liv’s hand shamelessly as they made their way down the dismal back hall. She could hear laughing come from somewhere – she wasn’t sure where, but it might have been the carnival. Liv’s hand loosened in hers.

She grabbed Liv’s wrist with her other hand. “Stay close,” she murmured. “Stay close and don’t wander off, okay? I’ve got you, but you have to hold on.”

“I don’t want to,” Liv whispered. “I haven’t even seen a Beaver yet. The person in the herb shop, they said I could see a Beaver.”

“And they took us to a bookseller who sent us here, Liv, so hold on and we’ll find something good, okay? No carnivals, no scary clowns. I’m not letting you get eaten…”

Liv was fighting against her now. “I want to see a Beaver!”

“We’ll find something, okay? Just shhh, stay quiet.” The corners of the hall seemed to be moving and Liv was struggling against Abigail’s grip. She held on tightly with one hand and opened the first doorknob she could see. It glinted silver in the dim light and was warm under her hand. The minute she touched it, Liv calmed down.

It was probably an awful idea, but she was out of good ones.
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Part I
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Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI

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Abigail and Liv looked around the deserted mall. “It’s like we found a future version of our mall, some time when it was abandoned, like in a post-apoc movie. Except…” Liv looked around slowly. “It doesn’t match up. There’s a fountain down there and there should be a plus intersection, not a T. And the two-stories part doesn’t go as far as our mall does.”

“Except,” Abigail pointed out, wanting to make some sense of this despite the fact that it was patently not sensible, “we haven’t actually left our mall.”

“I think we have. We entered on the first floor. This is the second floor.” Liv started walking down the hall.

“That can happen… with stores in hills…? Where are you going, Liv? Liv, slow down!”

“I’m looking for Rue 21. If we can find an entrance, maybe we can get back into the nice background mall, and from there we can hit that bookstore you wanted and then go back to find my mom. I don’t think that book lady was being… nice.”

“She wanted your blood, Liv, and you didn’t even blink! I don’t think she was being nice, either!” Abigail hurried to keep up, dropping her voice to a whisper and still trying to be heard. “Liv, think about this. We don’t know where we are, we don’t know what’s going on, we don’t know if we’re going to get in trouble, and someone already took your blood and put it in some sort of magic book!”

“Abigail, listen to yourself. There’s no such thing as magi-” Liv trailed off.

“What? What?” Abigail caught up with her friend, only to find her staring into an empty store, the gate askew and half-open, the room inside grey and dismal looking. “Liv?” She whispered it this time. “Liv, what… oh.”

She touched Liv’s arm, and it was like it turned on a switch. The rest of the mall was still dusty and grey, but in this storefront, its entrance like a gaping clown mouth, a carnival was dancing around silently. “Liv?” she whispered again.

Liv set her hand over Abigail’s on her arm, and Abigail could hear it: the carnival music, the laughter, the singing. The screams. The roller-coaster screams, her brain filled in, but something in her said no. “Liv.” She braced her feet as Liv headed towards the giant clown maw. “LIV!”

The music stopped. The carnival rides stopped. Inside, everyone was staring at them.

And then they all started laughing.
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Part I
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Abigail already knew what Liv was going to say, but she thought she ought to make a point for being reasonable. “We’ve got to get back eventually, Liv,” she tried, although, if the truth would be told, she didn’t try too hard.

“But eventually! Come on, Anto said something about Beavers and while this lady was very nice, I haven’t seen anything that looks like a beaver or acts like Mrs. Beaver or anything yet!”

Because the person handing out candy to teenaged girls before dropping them at dubious booksellers was totally the person to be trusted. Abigail sighed. “All right. One more store, then. Which way, ma’am?”

“Oh right there, between history and modern architecture, just tug on the Frank Lloyd Wright book.” The woman waved them on cheerfully. “Do be careful out there, girls. Very careful. The world can be very rough – all of the worlds can be very rough, especially on the young. Out with you.”

Abigail pulled on the book, as instructed, and a door swung open. “Down the rabbit’s hole,” she muttered.

“Oh, no, dearies, that’s quite a ways away from here. No, just Beavers, that way, and maybe some Goats.”

Outside the book shop, they found themselves in.. a hallway. A normal hallway, almost like the mall they’d come from. “Do you have any idea how this fits behind the mall?” Abigail complained.

“I don’t,” Liv answered in a hushed whisper, “but, all things considered, I’m not sure it does.”

The hall might have looked like the outside mall, but the lights were dimmed, and almost all the stores were shuttered and empty. “It looks like a dead mall,” Abigail whispered. “Like it’s come here to breathe out its last.”

“That’s kinda creepy, Abby.” Liv’s hissed answer didn’t sound like she disagreed. “Do you think we took the wrong exit?”

“There was only one,” Abigail complained. “I pulled the book, the door opened-” She turned around, but there was nothing but a closed grate and the remains of a WaldenBooks behind them. “Oh, Shit.”

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Abigail frowned at the woman. “There’s a price for leaving something. A price for making something, and a price for taking something?”

“Oh, there always is. I’m just more honest about it than most.” The woman smiled cheerfully. “I’m not out to get you. I can assure you of that. I will return you safely to whence you came when your time here is over, and never will you say that I did not give you a good deal. That is not the sort of shop that this is – although you have the smell of you that you may have gotten too close to one of those. Not Anto, no. Anto is mischievous and difficult, but that is all.”

There were too many loopholes in that little speech. Abigail wanted to say this is where the villain will end up saying ‘ha-ha, but I did not say when your time here would be over.

Liv had other ideas. “I want to make a book!”

“Liv… Liv, come on. We’ve got to get back to the mall before your mother calls.”

“Oh, worry not. You will get back in plenty of time for your mother’s visit.
”
“I’ve seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer, you know,” Abigail informed the woman, feeling a little silly. “Time can take a long time here and nothing at all there, can’t it?”

“This is not a Hell Dimension, although that was a very clever reference,” the woman informed her gently. “No, this will take no more than five or six minutes. The trick is, then I will have the book.”

“I can do that! I love this sort of thing. I watched a PBS Special on it! Come on, Abigail. Come on.”

Abigail sighed. “You make a book, I’ll leave a book. How’s that?”

“Oh, you’re no fun. Fiiiine. How do I make a book?”

“Here are the end-boards and here is the book block, all ready for you. Now pick out a color of cloth for the covers, there, and one prick of blood, and end papers, those are good, yes.” The woman slid the prick of blood in so smoothly that Abigail nearly missed it. Liv, caught up in the picking of the cloth – lavender – and the papers – a lavender and silver swirl – barely noticed. “And now we glue and we put together and you say over it, operishlian, ja-ren-thisial, Olivia, operish-ial.“

“Operishlian, ja-ren-thisial, Olivia, operish-ial,” Liv repeated dutifully. “There, it’s done, already?”

It had been a little more than five or six minutes, but not all that long. Abigail had pulled the Nancy Drew book out of her bag – and it had been just long enough that she’d started to regret the choice. She’d been so thrilled when she picked it up at the book sale! She’d read all of these when she was little, but sold them back to the book store, and then they’d been gone by the time she changed her mind.

She was not going to chant anything at a stack of paper, though. And she didn’t like the looks of any of the books on the shelves.

What kind of bookstore made you do something? That seemed a little pushy, a lot questionable.

“And there.” The blue woman bowed. “Thank you for your contribution to my library. And you, miss, for yours. If you would like, you can go further in, or you can venture out through Anto’s door.” She tilted her head behind her at the doorway.

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Abigail had her doubts about following the strange person through the back of the spices-and-herbs store, but Liv seemed definitely enchanted by the whole thing.

“Beavers?”

“Well, as I said, not literally. We don’t have any Animals here, not of the sort you’d find in Narnia or Oz. It’s just not the right environment for them, and nobody but the Raccoons and the Magpies really enjoy shopping, anyway. Oh, and the Corvids, of course. Can’t forget them.” The person pushed aside a beaded curtain, opening up a narrow wood-paneled hallway. “This area isn’t open to everyone, but I see that you’ve already met Tinaia, and that gives you some special leeway.”

Abigail shared a look with Liv, or tried to, but Liv was staring down the hallway. So, “leeway?” she asked, and hoped their guide would give some sort of useful answer.

“Oh, there’s always halls within halls, worlds within worlds. You read the tales of Narnia, so I assumed you knew. Everything is like an onion and a TARDIS: More and more, and bigger on the inside.”

That made very little sense, but considering the way they were having, Abigail decided not to complain too much. She kept an eye on Liv instead.

“So where are we going, then?” Liv persisted, even as she stuck close to their guide. “Down another layer of the onion?”

“More, and yet less, less, and yet so much more. Here.” The person swished aside another curtain, this one heavy and velvet. “Here you are. Have fun, and remember me when you come back around.”

That sounded a little ominous to Abigail, but Liv was already darting through the door. She followed, with a hasty and uncertain “thanks” aimed at the spice proprietor.

Liv had stopped a few steps inside the curtain, and Abigail could understand why. The floor was covered in a myriad of carpets; the walls were covered in bookshelves with more bookshelves jutting out at right angles. And in the middle, at a writing desk with a dip pen and a large book, a blue woman was sitting, writing.

She looked up when she noticed Liv and Abigail staring. “Oh, I see. Anto brought me some more company, mmm? Anto likes to do that. Well, then, come on in, don’t linger in the curtain letting in the mundane. You have three choices. You can take a book, make a book, or leave a book. But all three of those are going to have consequences and prices.”

“We don’t…” Abigail touched her bag. “Oh. I have a schoolbook and a copy of Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase. I could leave one, but … there’s a price for leaving something?”

“There’s always a price for leaving something.” The blue woman had gone back to her writing already. “The question is, can you pay it?”

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“…I was going to buy that skirt…” Abigail complained.

“No, you weren’t. You would hem and haw about the price and in the end you would’ve left with nothing.” Liv patted her on the shoulder. “We could go into the bookstore there, or we could go to that place that looks like it’s selling herbs and spices?”

“Herbs and spices first. Once we get in a bookstore, we’re going to be there ‘till it’s time for your mom to pick us up.”

Liv giggled. “Like that one time, when she came in to get us…”

“Or that time she had the store page us.

“Or that time she texted us bits of War and Peace until we came out on our own… Yeah. The herb and spice place first.”

The place in question had rows and rows of jars in one window; the other one was so full of plants that you couldn’t see into the store at all. There was no sign, but there was a young person with long black hair standing in the doorway.

“All the fine things in the world, all the best tastes and best sensations. Come in, I’ll give you a free sample to take home. Come on in.”

They were dressed, this shop-keeper, in four layers of clashing batik, flowing pants and tunic and vest and something between an apron and a skirt. They gestured Abigail and Liv into their shop, which smelled of a medley of herbal aromas that somehow didn’t quite clash. “You seem like you’re new to our little neck of the woods. If that’s so, here.” They handed Liv a circular wooden box, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. “That’s just a little something for when you’ve got the doldrums or the dum-dums, that is, life or some idiot are getting you down. because, as they say, non illegitimus carborundum.”

“Don’t…” Liv stared at them. “Let the outlaws make you carbide?”

“Close enough! All right, here’s your free samples! Ginger candy! Because ginger is a spice, you see.” The strips of yellow were coated in sugar. “Careful, they have a bite. Now. What brings you here?”

Something about them put Abigail’s back up. “A door.”

“…And a bully,” Liv pointed out.

“Aah! Well, those are a good start. That’s a place for a story to begin, isn’t it? Once, two young girls fled a bully through a door in the back of the mall. There, they found…

“Strange and wondrous places!” Liv put in. “…but no fauns.”

“Ah, but as the faun was working for the Winter Witch, perhaps not who you want to find, mm? Perhaps a beaver instead?”

Abigail had pocketed her candy, but Liv was chewing on hers. “Wow, this is… Wait, what?”

“Well, obviously not literally. But let me show you a place you might have missed.”

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