Young Writers Society

We boarded a train headed back to the city, and I watched out of the window while Mel and Mr. Ledwell slept.

For the majority of my life I’d never been on a train, and now this was my seventh in the past year. I remember my first ride and thinking that I would never tire of it. Now all I wanted to do was be home with all of this behind me. I’d spent too much time on the road, and unless we resolved this I would be for a lot longer yet.

Not for the first time, I wondered how we were going to pull this off. We had to somehow convince Mr. Sallon that we were right, which might mean dragging him down to the Otherworld. This was assuming that Mary Ledwell could do the most important thing, convincing the Orderers, and finding evidence to convict Mr. Teller.

“I have an idea,” I glanced over and saw Mel blinking open her eyes.

“About what?” I asked.

“How we can accuse Mr. Teller,” She replied. It was like she read my mind. I supposed that she must have been thinking about the same thing, even in her sleep.

“What’s you idea?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat.

“I could get him to confess.”

“What?” I looked at her, confused. “How?”

“I could say that you heard him, and that I was going to go to the Orderers. He would freak out and try to stop me, and all the while the Orderers could be at the door listening.”

“It’s a good plan,” I agreed. “But it’s too dangerous. What if he hurts you?”

She lifted her chin. “I can take care of myself,” she replied. “Besides, the Orderers would be ready to barge in immediately.”

I shook my head. “It’s still to risky. What if they got delayed? What if he has a pistol?”

“I want to help,” Mel said pleadingly. “Please, I can’t help but feel guilty!”

“And I don’t want you to die!” I cried. “It’s not worth it.”

“Yes it is!” Mel exclaimed. “This is important. My father needs to be arrested.”

Mr. Ledwell blinked awake at the sound of our debate. “What’s going on?” He asked.

Mel quickly explained her plan, with me cutting in on my reasons why it was too dangerous.

“She’s right Mel,” he said, glancing over at Mel. “It’s too dangerous.”

“See?” I looked over at her. “We both agree. You might think it’s worth risking your life over, but it’s not!”

“Please?” she said. “You’ve done so many risky things for this cause. I just want to do my part!”

I looked at Mr. Ledwell and we exchanged a silent agreement. “If Mary is able to get the Orderers on our side,” he began. “Than you can try to get a confession out of him.”

She grinned.

“But if you don’t have backup,” he warned. “There’s no way you’re doing this. We’ll find another way.”

She nodded. “That’s fair. In the meantime, how are we going to convince your boss?”

I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t know. Mr. Ledwell’s been working on him for years.”

“Yes, but now you have proof that it works!” Mr. Ledwell said. “You are literally living proof!”

“Which is why my father wants you gone,” Mel said somberly. “We’d better make sure Mr. Sallon wouldn’t tell him.”

Mr. Ledwell nodded. “You’re right. We’re going to need a plan.”

When we returned to the city, we said our goodbyes and Mel returned to her father’s office while Mr. Ledwell and I headed to the Cutting Center. With any luck Mr. Sallon was still at the Cutting Center, and he would believe us about the new way of cutting and about Mr. Teller. If I could show take him to the Otherworld and show him the memory line and the soul-string, we might have a chance.

“Hello Melanie,” Mr. Hillington said, greeting the receptionist by name.

“Jonathon!” she sounded surprised. “I thought you weren’t coming back to for another few days.”

He shrugged. “I changed my mind. Is Mr. Sallon here?”

The receptionist nodded. “He’s in his office.”

I followed him up the stairs, glancing back at the receptionist, who was watching Mr. Ledwell with a confused expression. He turned down the hall to Mr. Sallon’s office, and knocked sharply on the door before opening it and stepping in.

“Who’s barging in here?” Mr. Sallon snapped, looking up from his desk. “Jonathon! What are you doing here?”

Mr. Ledwell sighed. “I decided to come back early.”

I stepped next to Mr. Ledwell, and Mr. Sallon looked at me, surprised. “And Miss Alander! Why are you here?”

“We need to speak to you, Mr. Sallon,” I said.

“Call me Gregory, please,” he replied.

“Gregory, may we sit down?” Asked Mr. Ledwell. “This may take a while, and I’d appreciate it if you listened to us carefully. You won’t like what we must tell you, and though I know you aren’t fond of me-“

Mr. Sallon protested, but Mr. Ledwell continued. “-But I hope you can believe the word of Miss Alander, here.”

He nodded and gestured to a couple chairs in front of his desk. We sat, and I leaned forward. “Please, Mr. Sall- Gregory. I beg of you to not tell anyone this conversation if we can’t convince you of the truth.”

He looked from me to Mr. Ledwell suspiciously. “Alright, then, enough warnings. What is it you want to tell me?”

I began my story, starting with when Darren died and I was assigned his Cutting, to when I went to Brutehaven to look for other ways of Cutting and met Mel, Mr. Teller’s daughter. I told Mr. Sallon about how I had found Mr. Ledwell, and he had shared his notes and findings with me. At this, Mr. Sallon’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he glanced at Mr. Ledwell sternly, but didn’t interrupt.

When I told him about the dream I’d had, where Darren spoke to me, he looked skeptical, and Mr. Ledwell stopped me.

“You had a dream?” he exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

I shrugged sheepishly. I had forgotten that Mr. Ledwell didn’t know about that.

“Continue with your tale,” Mr. Sallon said, saving me from answering.

I continued explaining how we’d enlisted Mr. Teller, and how I’d gone down to the Otherworld. At this point Mr. Sallon leaned forward, intrigued. “What did it look like?” he asked. “How did the souls behave? What could you see? Were you in danger? How easy was it to escape? Did you successfully untie the soul-string? And are you sure the soul-string didn’t break? You don’t feel anything now, do you? How can you be sure it worked? What exactly did he have to say?”

I did my best to answer his questions, answering honestly about the danger question and explaining my fear of climbing the memory line. At times he frowned, and I was afraid he would forbid the process entirely, but he said nothing more.

“The process worked fine, ask Mr. Teller,” I said. “Actually, don’t. Definitely don’t.” I amended.

“Why not?” Mr. Sallon asked, looking at Mr. Ledwell for confirmation, and he nodded, gesturing back to me.

I explained how I had gone to Mr. Ledwell’s office, and described the conversation I’d heard as best I could.

“He said what?” Mr. Sallon gasped as I explained his plan. “Do you remember the name of his partner?”

I shook my head. “He didn’t mention a name, but the man was big and tall, and he lived in Brutehaven. I’d imagine he runs a gang down there, because he mentioned something about having “his boys” shut people up.”

Mr. Sallon stood and paced the room. I had thought he would laugh or immediately call Mr. Teller, but to my relief he did neither of these things.

“To be honest, if it was just either of you, I wouldn’t believe it,” Mr. Sallon began. “But the fact that you’re both here, two of my very own Cutters who I didn’t even know knew each other, pleading for me to listen to them.” He sighed, and sat back down. “I don’t know what to think. This is all so crazy. The fact that there’s a way to cut someone without forgetting him, the fact that you actually did it. And then there’s the whole thing about John. He was one of the most esteemed Cutters, a friend whom I would trust with my life.”

“We’re not lying to you,” Mr. Ledwell replied. “Why on earth would we lie to you about this. We have nothing to gain, and everything to lose.”

Mr. Sallon nodded. “I know, I know. But think about what you’re asking me to believe. You must forgive me for being skeptical.”

“But you believe us?” I asked, not believing what I was hearing.

“Perhaps,” Mr. Sallon said. “I’m not sure how I feel about the Cutting, but if you feel threatened by John, then it’s my duty to call the Orderer’s. We’ll see if they find evidence of your story.”

I smiled broadly. “Thank you so much, sir.” If you call the Orderer’s and get them to listen to you, I think I have a way to get Mr. Teller to confess.”