Bently McQuinn Saves Literature

“So, you lead the way,” Bently said to Lyra. She nodded, and she and Pan lead the way. Everyone followed behind, and their dæmons, too. At the tall front doors, Lyra had everyone stop and group together.

“Alright, the college is huge, and Esme could be anywhere. We’ll split up and search for her.”

“And what if we find her?” Lucy asked.

“Wait,” Bently said, whipping out the notebook and pen again. A few minutes later, he handed it to Meggie.

She read:

“Lyra reached into her pocket to find a small, black stone. Everyone else had one too, and when Lyra squeezed it, her stone and all the others started to vibrate. It was like a cell phone on silent mode. Upon further examination, Lyra found that all the stones had a glowing L on them.”

And sure enough, as soon as Meggie was done, Bently felt a weight in his pocket. He pulled out the black stone.

“Genius,” said Will. “So give everyone a buzz if you need help. How will we find each other?”

“We’ll just stick to the areas we search,” Lyra said. “King, Mr. Scoreby, you two should check the library and towers. Will, Lucy, and Meggie, go underground and check the cellars. Bently, you and I will check the middle level and the Dean’s Office. I’ll show you all where everything generally is.”

King pushed the doors open, and they crept inside. Lyra pointed everyone in the right direction, and then she and Bently took off together, Pan and Harlima trailing behind them.

The halls were empty and silent. There was very pale, dim light coming in through the windows because of the fog. Bently had shed his parka and pulled his cloak back on, and was now re-securing Gryffindor’s Sword around his waist. He tucked the notebook away in the very large cloak pocket along with the pen and wand, and now just had his elvish knife out. Magic still wasn’t any use to him, as the simplest spells drained him to exhaustion in seconds.

“I don’t get it,” said Lyra, frowning and pushing her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes. “Where is everyone?”

“Esme probably… got rid of them.”

“What? How?”

“Well, in Narnia, Jacob had turned everyone into an army of huge wolves. And at Hogwarts when I freed it a while ago, all the students had become these weird zombie things.”

“So you’re saying she made them into some sort of—oh, so that’s where her army came from.”

“Yeah, I’m betting so.”

“Well, I think she’s—”

But Lyra stopped when she heard a voice from inside the office they were about to go into. It was a soft, female voice, and it seemed to be chiding someone.

“Are you sure that it’s their balloon?” she asked, then paused.

‘Talking on the phone,’ Bently guessed.

“Well, then I’ll sound the alarm.” They heard a click as the phone was placed down.

Lyra nodded to Bently, and they burst into the room. “You’ll do no such thing, Esme!”

At the Dean’s desk sat a woman with pale skin and long dark hair. Her amber eyes glinted malevolently, and he dæmon, a small, sleek black panther, snarled. Harlima growled back, and Bently could feel that threat vibrate through her and into his leg.

“So, you managed to get here, did you?” Esme asked, her voice cold. “You’re lucky, you know. I just sent of my freshest troupes to find the witches.”

“Well, you won’t get very far. It’s over, Esme,” said Bently, his grip tight on his elf knife.

“Oh?” said Esme, smirking. She pulled from a sheath on her hip a golden, double-edged knife. “Is it really?” she asked, and she began cutting the air. At first Bently just thought she was mad, but then Lyra screamed when suddenly there wasn’t a desk, but a square of forest. “Goodbye,” Esme said with triumph, and she slipped inside the forest.

“No!” cried out Lyra, and she dived in after her. Bently thought enough to clench the stone in his pocket has hard as he could, making it vibrate, before diving in after her.

-

Lucy was the first to feel the vibrating. She stopped and pulled it out of her pocket, seeing a burning orange B in it. “Bently’s in trouble!” she said, and Meggie and Will stopped. “They must of found her, where’s the Dean’s office?”

“This way,” said Will, and he ran back down the dark passage they had just come down and back up the stairs. Lucy followed, and then Meggie. Will ran as fast as he could, leading them in the direction Lyra and Bently had gone. They twisted down some passages, and he hoped he was leading them in the right direction. They found the wooden door half-open that bore the golden legend; Dean’s Office. Will pushed the door open to find no one in the room, but there was a floating square of forest right there in the middle of the desk.

“Come on, Esme must have used the knife,” he said, and he dove into the square of forest, his dæmon following him. Lucy was next with Kokome, and finally Meggie and Shep. And so they began chasing after Bently, Lyra, and Esme.

-

Lyra and Bently ran as fast as they could after Esme, but she was simply way too fast. The vampires had one thing on their side, and that was speed. But they could easily keep track of her, when they found the holes between worlds.

Currently, they were racing across a desert, sweating profusely. They had left the forest far behind, and could now see a square of rocks up in the distance.

“We were not meant for this kind of heat,” Harlima panted as she ran along side Bently.

“You said it,” Bently agreed, swallowing spit. It felt like everything inside him was sticking together. “What are those rocks up there?” he asked Lyra, who’s hair was sticking to her forehead from her sweat.

“I think they’re the Republic of Heaven, or at least what it used to be,” said Lyra breathlessly. “If it is, it’s going to be a bit harder to follow her.”

“Why?”

“Because there are lots of cliffs and rocks.”

They ran further, and dove into the next world. Lyra was right, it was very cliffy, and Bently would have fallen off if Harlima hadn’t caught his cloak in her powerful jaws. Then they stumbled on, their sweat turning cold as they ran along the cliff edges through clouds. All Bently could see was Lyra and Pan running in front of him, the wall of the cliff where the path was carved and where he ran his hand along, and the clouds all around them. And then suddenly, they were into another world, one with a flawlessly starry night, and a battered old brick path.

Then there was a screaming noise from somewhere that sounded similar to the Ring Wraiths from Middle Earth.

“Spectres! Run faster!” Lyra screamed, terrified. From the sky flew down dark shadows, and Bently was reminded of Dementors. He knew he didn’t want to tangle with one, anyways.

Lyra led the way, running like hell towards an abandoned town where there was a large stone tower. The shadows were coming at them faster and faster. Lyra was aiming for the patch of sunlight and a golden field that was floating at the tower.

“Come on Bently!” she yelled. She was quite a bit farther ahead of Bently, and Pan dodged into the field. The Spector’s screams were coming closer now. They seemed to be right on his heels.

“Run Bently!” Harlima urged, springing through the gap now. Bently dived, and he rolled into the sunlight and a grassy field. He looked up behind him, and he saw the Spectres had stopped, screaming furiously. No sunshine for them.

“Ahh! Bently!”

Bently whipped around to see in the distance at the edge of a forest, the figure of a woman holding someone. Esme had caught Lyra.

Bently struggled up and started running again. Down the slope he galloped as fast as he could without falling over. Harlima ran beside him, snarling furiously.

Esme stood in the center of a compacted, dirt circle, her while skin sparkling intensely. Lyra was struggling in her arms, and the knife was near her throat. Esme’s panther held down Pan with a paw.

“Leave me, McQuinn, or little Lyra’s throat will be mine,” Esme said greedily, lowering her mouth towards Lyra’s neck as far as she could while still keeping an eye on Bently.

Bently didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t much of a hero — he had always had people to help him. He was stuck.

Suddenly, Harlima lunged at the smaller panther. This distracted Esme, and Bently did the first thing that popped into his mind. He whipped out his wand and yelled, “Expelliarmus!”

The knife went flying out of Esme’s hand, and Lyra to the ground. Lyra scrambled away instantly, and Esme had no idea what was going on. Pan escaped from under the panther, and it and Harlima rolled away in a furry of claws and teeth. The panther was lighter and faster, but Harlima had size and power on her side. But Bently could feel every cut the panther’s claws made in her, every bite which stung deep down.

Bently fell to his knees. His vision was getting hazy, and everything seemed to have drained out of him with that last bit of magic. He had enough sense to hide his wand again before Esme was towering over him, grasping the knife.

“You lose here, Bently McQuinn,” she screamed, a mad look in her eyes. As she brought down the knife, Bently thrust up his hand in a last effort of defense.

At first he felt nothing but the blood running down his arm in a flood, but then he screamed. The pain was terrible, and tears came to his eyes. He collapsed, grasping his injured hand. His pinky and a good section of his right hand had been completely severed and his ring finger skinned. He could do nothing but focus on all the pain he was feeling, not only in his hand, but in the pain he felt from Harlima. He could hear her yowling in pain, too. She must be able to feel his pain as well.

A shadow grew over him and he knew it was the end. Esme was going to kill him right now, right here, and after he was dead, she’d probably drink his blood, that sick, hypocritical, sparkling—

“No!”

Bently heard Lucy’s cry, and a thump, and then the shadow of Esme was gone. Bently groaned and looked up to see Meggie and Will there, too. Will had picked up the knife, an irate look in his eyes. Meggie was kneeling down to him, hysterical.

“Bently! Bently, can you hear me?”

Bently groaned again in response.

“Bently, you’ve got to write something! It’s the only way!”

She dug around in his cloak and found the notebook and pen. She pulled a bit of her cloak around him and started trying to absorb the blood with it.

“Please Bently!”

Bently sat up with her help and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. But it was proving to be impossible to do. There were sounds of Lyra, Lucy and Will fighting Esme, Meggie crying, Harlima and the panther fighting, and now a new sound, one that sounded like a flock of killer birds screeching. The pain in his hand made his eyes bleary, and there were still pains that he felt from Harlima.

He took a deep breath, and thought of a void. A great, black void filled with nothing. The kind of void he’d like to send Meyer and her world into. Then the words came to him. His writing was sloppy, but Meggie could read it. She read in a shaky voice:

“The blood on the ground matched the ruby red of Esme’s furious eyes. She didn’t know how these mere mortals had followed her, but at least she had triumphed in injuring the writer. The Great Birds were on their way, and there was no stopping her now.

But just as she thought this, her eyes grew wide. The boy who had just come, Will, had gotten through her defense. He had driven the Subtle Knife into her heart, buried to the hilt. She had but a moment to think before she burst into a pile of orange, glittering dust.”

Bently looked up, and saw it happen right before his eyes. Esme got distracted by Meggie’s words, and before she knew it, they had come true. Will buried the knife into her chest, and she exploded into dust. Will stood there in shock, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“Here come some Tualapi!” cried Lyra, pointed to the sea. There, a great flock of white birds road on the waves, but as soon as Esme was gone, they turned around and started back out to sea.

“Well, that was easy,” moaned Bently, laying back in the grass. He thought he might pass out any moment.

“No it wasn’t,” said Lyra, panting. She held Pan in her arms securely. “We need to get you and Harlima to Mr. Scoreby. He has some medicine from the bears that can help with your hand.”

“First, I need to close all the windows the vamp opened,” said Will. He cut a new square in the air that opened up to the inside of the college. “Go through, I’ll trace back and close the rest of the windows.”

Lucy helped Bently up, and he and the three girls went through the window and back to the college. Will pinched it closed behind them, and they were left in the empty stone halls. The fog had cleared, and it seemed warmer and more welcoming.

“Mr. Scoreby? King?” Meggie called out, and they followed Lyra and Pan out of the college.

Outside, the sky was blue. There were people now, playing with their dæmons. The deflated balloon was there, along with King and Mr. Scoreby. They gave a start when they saw Bently’s injury.

“Esme decided I would be better off with just nine fingers,” Bently joked weakly, cradling his injured hand. He had lost a lot of blood.

“Do you think he could write himself a new finger? Or that you could?” Meggie asked King fearfully. King shook his head.

“I highly doubt it. You can’t just write that someone dropped dead, can you? You have to give a reason for it. And in all the worlds I’ve visited, in not one of them could we truly replace it.”

“Let me get you something to heal it up,” Mr. Scoreby said, and his hare brought out a small package from inside the basket. She gave it to Mr. Scoreby, who handed it to Bently.

“This might help,” he said. But Lucy got a bright look on her face, and she dug through her cloak, looking for something on her person.

“No, try this!” she said triumphantly, pulling her small vial of healing potion out of a pouch. “We’ll try this first!”

She carefully popped open the cap and held Bently’s injured hand in her free one. Slowly, she poured a drop of the potion onto his hand. There was a slight burning sensation in the wound, but it closed up before his eyes. The flesh didn’t re-grow, but it was healed.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Mr. Scoreby in wonder. “Bently, you’ve got a keeper there!”

Lucy blushed and put away the potion. Just then, Will burst out of the college doors, looking pleased.

“All fixed! The windows are closed, and I’ve got the knife back. All’s well.”

“Now what?” King asked. “What’s the next book?”

“Jurassic Park,” informed Meggie. “But—”

“But what?”

“What about our dæmons? What’ll happen to them?” she asked, biting her lip.

“They should go back inside of you. I mean, they’ll still be with you, you just won’t be able to see them,” said Will. “That’s how it is for me when I visit my world. We don’t have dæmons there.”

Meggie sighed, and Bently did too. He looked down into Harlima’s amber eyes. He had grown accustomed to seeing her by him, sleeping in her fur. “Will I ever see you again?” Bently asked her, feeling a deep prang of sadness as he wrapped his arms around her strong neck.

“Fret not,” she said. “I’ll be with you, on the inside.”

As Meggie pulled out the next book, Bently clenched his eyes shut and held onto Harlima’s fur.

Meggie chose a passage and read:

“They were standing in the living room of Hammond’s elegant bungalow, set back among palm trees in the northern sector of the park. The living room was airy and comfortable, fitting with a half-dozen video monitors showing the animals in the park. The file Wu had brought, stamped ANIMAL DEVELOPMENT: VERSION 4.4, lay on the coffee table.”