To the Rescue

The lack of expression on Latvia’s face frightened Lithuania and Estonia. Either the news of Peter’s death had short-circuited a fuse inside her head, or she just didn’t know how to react.

“Latvia,” began Estonia.

Latvia shook her head. “Why should I believe anything that comes out of that book?” she crossed her arms. “What is that book, anyway? You haven’t explained that Winfry.” As she said this, Latvia felt she already knew the answer. Whatever kind of book it was, it was probably just like her mother’s book.

“Latvia. This book is never wrong,” said Winfry. “I don’t understand where its messages come from, or why they come when they do, but… everything it’s told me so far is either true… or some sort of pun. But this isn’t a pun.”

“How would Peter be dead?” Latvia said, rising. Pacing. “He was on his way to Econometric Elation. He wasn’t on his way to space. He was in no danger whatsoever. How would he die?”

“I…”

“Can you ask your book that? How he died?” Latvia was now standing over Winfry, threatening.

Winfry whipped out his pen and wrote: how? 

The librem responded immediately. Explosion. Physiological Engineering and Improvement Station. Quilaire lost.

Latvia looked at Winfry wide-eyed. How did the book know she had given Peter the quilaire? She hadn’t even told Lithuania or Estonia about that. And why would there be an explosion… Did this mean…?

Latvia smacked the librem out of Winfry’s hands, sending it flying to the other end of the living room. Her eyes were crazed. Then the book flipped open on its own, and more ink turned magically into text. 10am, 12/43/10609, PENIS.

“Why the HELL would it bother giving me the exact date and time now!” roared Latvia.

Lithuania looked at Latvia sympathetically. Estonia rose to give her a hug, but Latvia refused. “We could have stopped it, Estonia!” she cried. “We could have teleported there and saved him—or—”

Timoteo looked at Latvia carefully.

Latvia suddenly seemed struck by an idea. She glanced at the librem, then at Timoteo. “Timoteo,” she said, staring fiercely at him. “I need you to focus my magic.”

“What?” said Felix, Lithuania and Estonia at once.

“Please,” said Latvia frantically, approaching Timoteo and clasping his fists. “You have to focus my energy. Boost me up or whatever. Estonia too. I know what I have to do. I know I can do it.”

Timoteo smiled. Had he expected this?

“Of course, Latvia,” he said with a nod.

“Latvia,” said Estonia, concerned. “What the hell are you—”

“Trust me Estonia. Mom told me we’d only get more powerful. And I think I know what that means.”

“What?”

“Space,” said Latvia, pointing at Estonia. “Infinity,” she said, pointing at Lithuania. “And Time,” she pointed at herself. “Lithuania’s already traveling through worlds. You’re traveling through space. If anything, I’m behind!” She grasped Estonia’s hand. “Lithuania, we’ll be right back. Timoteo, do it.”

Timoteo smiled. Estonia looked panicked and completely confused. Latvia looked determined. Timoteo pressed his palms together like he was praying, closed his eyes, and a swirl of blue sparks started to hover around his hands. He opened his eyes. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

Latvia nodded. Timoteo opened his palms and directed them at Latvia and Estonia. The two sisters received a blast of blue light, and a second later they were gone.

They reappeared in some place bright with sunlight. Estonia’s pupils shrunk in the bright glare. Hadn’t it been nighttime just a second ago? The sisters were at the foot of a series of granite stairs that led up to a rectangular, completely unremarkable glass building. They were in the middle of a broad valley surrounded by low wooded mountains. “Latvia, where the hell did you make me take us to?” said Estonia.

A sudden explosion, and the building before them went up in flames.

“Shit!” cried Estonia, flinching at the sudden heat. “Latvia, what the—”

“We need to find Peter,” said Latvia, her voice strained. “Before it’s too late. Estonia, do that thing you did with Lithuania! Find him!”

“But I—”

“DO IT!” Estonia closed her eyes and focused. She didn’t know if she could do it again. She didn’t know if Timoteo’s power boost was as strong as the one that came from the quilaire and the mysterious marble boxes, but she’d try. She tried to shut out the sounds. The smells. The wind. The brightness of the sun. The heat from the burning building. The screams of the people escaping the flames. Shut it all out.

Silence. In the darkness of her closed eyelids, Estonia suddenly saw Peter, clear as day. “Latvia,” she said, opening her eyes and clutching Latvia’s wrist. Latvia suddenly understood Peter’s location, and vanished in a puff of blue. “Latvia!” Estonia cried. Where had she gone? Latvia couldn’t even teleport… right?

Latvia flashed back into reality inside a chamber filled with flames. She dove to the floor, overwhelmed by the heat and smoke. There was shattered and blackened glass everywhere. “Peter!” she cried. She could see his feet sticking out from what looked like a giant MRI machine enveloped in flames. She was too late. “PETER!” she screamed. She dragged herself to the machine, reached up for Peter, grabbed his ankle and closed her eyes. The world around her disappeared. In its place appeared a sort of alleyway, and she and Peter were sprawled on the ground. Another explosion. The burning building was right behind them. “Peter! Peter wake up!” Latvia cried, crawling over him and looking into his face. He was unconscious. But alive.

Then Latvia noticed a strange shape protruding through Peter’s suit, right above his chest. “What the…” Her hands shook as she pulled the zipper down the front of Peter’s odd, scuba-like dark blue suit. They had both almost just died. And how was it that Peter wasn’t burned?

The answer was on Peter’s chest: the quilaire, burned nastily onto his skin. Latvia winced as she removed it, detaching the quilaire from Peter’s severely burned skin. “He’s still inside!” someone cried from afar. Someone was coming around the building. She couldn’t be found here.

“Peter,” Latvia said tenderly, stroking Peter’s face. He would have no idea when he woke up… Quickly Latvia closed her eyes. She needed to replace the spoon with something. Whoever came looking for Peter couldn’t just find a spoon-shaped burn mark on his chest. Could they?

Latvia opened her eyes. Was she holding the quilaire with her bare hands? Yes, except now she had two spoons. The quilaire in her right hand, and an identical spoon in her left. “What the…”

“We’re going in around back! Hurry!” came men’s voices. Latvia had to leave, now. She placed the regular spoon quickly over Peter’s burn mark, zipped his suit up and disappeared on the spot, just as the firemen turned the corner and came upon Peter. “We found one!” one of them yelled.

No one noticed Latvia reappear beside Estonia amid the chaos, the frantic people, the sight of the burning station. Latvia took Estonia’s hand, and a second later they were gone.