His voice sounded distant and hollow when he said, "With God."
***
I looked at Allison; she looked at me.
Charlie stepped lithely between us, and reached out a hand toward the shimmering doorway. At least, it was shimmering to my eyes.
"As queen, midnight is typically the only time she has to herself," said Charlie, lowering his hand. "But when her husband sleeps, and most of the castle has quieted, she slips out of bed and sometimes opens her wardrobe, to speak to God."
"You mean to you," said Allison.
Charlie didn't turn around, but he gave us a full view of his strong profile, his sharp nose, squarish jaw. "I never imagined the door would lead here, to my hallway."
"You are her creator," said Allison.
He said nothing, although that jawline might have rippled.
I said, "But the scene never made it into the book. How would she know about the wardrobe?"
Charlie was shaking his head before I had a chance to finish the question. "The closet has been known to her family for centuries. She knew about it at an early age, consulted it often. It just didn't make it into the first book, yet."
"So your characters can live outside the first book?" asked Allison.
"Of course," he said. "Their lives extend well beyond the pages."
"Except for this story," I said. "Maybe their lives are on hold, or perhaps aspects of their lives."
"Maybe," said Charlie.
"Like maybe the queen's daughter is still kidnapped until Charlie resolves it!" said Allison.
It sounded crazy, but it also seemed plausible. Charlie stood for a long moment, staring forward, while Queen Autumn stood just before him, searching, as well. She reached out a hand, but it faded away before it could find us.
"You said her family has been speaking to God for centuries," said Allison. "But she's only recently come to your house, to this hallway."
Charlie was shaking his head again. "They believe they are talking to God. They never, in fact, found God."
"Until now," I said.
Charlie's shoulders rolled up, and seemed, in general, uncomfortable with this whole conversation. Finally, he said, "Queen Autumn was different. She always believed she would find him."
"In the wardrobe?" asked Allison.
"Yes, at first," said Charlie. "And then later, in her heart."
I nodded, recalling her devotion from even at an early age, even if it had been barely hinted at in the novel. I said, "She senses you're near."
In the book, just where Charlie had left the story hanging, Queen Autumn had awakened to discover that her newborn was missing, kidnapped in the night. Charlie had set the stage for a mystery within the greater novel.
But his characters never stopped living, I thought, and watched Autumn's beautiful blue eyes searching and searching, her hands reaching out, her lips moving in what I assumed was a prayer.
"Do you hear her?" I asked Charlie, for he had stepped closer still, cocking his head, listening. Creator and created were now mere inches from each other.
"I hear... something," he said, as some of the shimmering blue light touched his skin, although he didn't seem to notice it.
"Is it also midnight in the land of Dur?" asked Allison.
Charlie, who had raised a hand and placed it just inside the blue light, said, "Since I never established time zones, I would imagine their time defaulted to our own time."
I shrugged. It made sense.
Allison was about to ask another nonsensical question-
Hey! came her hurt thought.
-when I shushed her. After all, Queen Autumn had raised her own hand as well. I watched with some interest as his hand and her hand found each other's, but not really. I doubted he could see her; at least, not yet. Maybe he would in time, but I didn't know.
"I-I feel her, I think," he said.
Opposite him, Autumn covered her mouth with her other hand. Tears flowed freely down her face.
"She feels you too," I said.
"She's weeping," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"Now... she's asking for help. She's asking for my help to save her baby."
He stood there for another heartbeat or two, then pulled his hand back, breaking the connection. Tears streamed down his face as well.
"What's happening, Sam?" he asked.
At this point, I figured it was a rhetorical question. I said, "Something beautiful."
In the hallway, Autumn sank to her knees and she covered her face with both hands, weeping, her body quaking, and my heart went out to her. After all, I had come to love her and her world and her whole crazy family. Oh, and her hunky First Knight. I loved them all, even the bad boys.