Free The Road to Nevermore by Christopher Lincoln

darkness, it was the gate that surprised him the most. Only the width of a single man, it shot up the towering wall in a ragged
     slash.
    “Why’s the door so narrow?” he asked Roger.
    “I keep forgetting you’re not from around here.” Roger tipped back his top hat. “The gate into the Light Side is much the
     same. It has to do with responsibility.”
    “Responsibility?”
    “Well, it’s a narrow path with high-reaching consequences, good or bad. There’s only enough room for one person to pass through,
     no matter how much we would like to blame others for our choices.”
    Billy squinted into the shadows atop the wall, feeling as if bats were flying through his missing belly.
    A loud wail spilled over the wall. Billy turned to see Uncle Mordecai cringe. He was standing at the front of the line, about
     twenty yards away, and so wrapped in his worries he didn’t notice the latest irregularity. But Billy did and couldn’t help
     giggling.

    The mystery of what had been in Pete’s parcel was bouncing with a bustle right in front of him. The old pirate had slipped
     behind the guardhouse and was now sporting a lavender dress.
    Pete muttered, “The things a fella’s got to do to put things right,” as he pulled a veiled hat over his head. It covered his
     features in what Roger insisted was a most becoming way.
    The disguise didn’t do much to cover Pete’s ship-deck stride, and Billy thought his parrot, Jenkins, was a dead giveaway,
     too. So did Ned.
    Pete gathered Billy close to his skirts. “Grim made up some documents for me. Has me travelin’ as a skeleton. I’ll tell the
     guards yer me grandson and that should get us through. There’s a note attached says I’m to join up with a tour group at the
     Hornsley Hotel.” He smiled at Billy from under his veil.
    “A tour group?” Billy wondered. “Is there really such a thing?”
    “Sure as a parrot’s got pinfeathers.” Pete nodded. Jenkins presented his wing in a sweeping bow.
    “Some Lightsiders visit all the time”— Roger slipped into the conversation —“to remind themselves of how good they have it,
     but others like to strut around and lord it over the unfortunates.”
    Clops and jingles announced the approach of an officer mounted on a skeleton horse. He adjusted his monocle when he saw the
     group, but his gaze lingered on Pete. Tipping his helmet, he cooed, “We don’t get many ladies traveling out here. It pleases
     me to see such an elegant flower.”
    Pete fluttered a whalebone fan, tittering in a squeaky voice. “Thank ye young man, yer a darlin’.”
    “He really has been out here a long time if
that’s
his idea of a looker,” Roger whispered to Billy.
    Pete elbowed Roger in the ribs. Billy bit down hard, trying not to laugh.
    “Not at all, madam … charmed.” The officer bowed, his monocle dropping out of his eye socket. “My name is Colonel Siegely,
     commander of the Afterlife’s third regiment of the Light Cavalry. Not sure if you’ve been apprised of the situation, but seems
     an Afterlife emergency’s been declared—some kind of Hall of Reception foul-up.”
    “Try to act surprised,” Pete whispered.
    Billy did his best.
    “‘An extra-high level of security will be in effect, starting today,’” Colonel Siegely read from an official document he’d
     retrieved from a tunic pocket. “‘We will be screening travelers for dangerous items such as shampoo and toothpaste. And you
     will also have to remove your shoes.’”
    Pete fluttered his fan at the colonel. “Might we have a few words in private on that very point?” He twittered.
    The colonel trotted his horse over at once, his bony face plastered with delight. “Certainly, madam.” Siegely grunted as he
     dismounted.
    “It’s
mademoiselle
to ye. I’m unattached at present.” Pete tapped him with the tip of the folded fan. “Perhaps you could do a kindness to a
     lady and her grandson.”
    “Grandson, it can’t possibly be! I was