The bridge feels endless, but still I persevere. What choice do I have?
Finally, I’m close to the end. Close to Glenda. Close to the safety of solid ground. But just as I’m about to make that final leap, a loud cracking assaults my ears. I whirl around, in time to see the stone pillars disintegrate before my eyes. The rope suspension splits. The bridge shudders and cracks, the far side swinging down into the cavern. A split second later I’m vertical, hanging on to the handrails for dear life.
“Help!” I scream to Glenda, who is standing above me, arms crossed, a serene smile on her seamless face. She’s wearing a long white robe, the costume of a Greek goddess. A white star glows from her forehead. “You’ve got to help me!”
But she doesn’t move. “Pull yourself out, Mariah,” she commands in a calm voice. “You have the power to do so. You always have.”
Terrified, I try to do as she says—to pull myself up, my feet dangling uselessly, clawing for some kind of purchase. I’m not making much progress. My heart pounds. My arms burn. I can’t hold on much longer. “Please!” I beg, tears streaming down my cheeks, blurring my already spotty vision. I can’t believe she’s just standing there when I’m about to plummet to my death. “Help me. Give me your hand.”
“You don’t need my help anymore, Mariah,” Glenda says with another gentle smile. “Look within yourself. You have the power.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but now is not the time to try to puzzle it out. Summoning all the willpower and adrenaline I can muster, I give one last heave and hoist myself onto the bank. My chest slams into solid rock, knocking the wind from my lungs. Automatically I search my pockets for my inhaler, but Glenda steps lightly on my hand with a soft slippered foot.
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Gazers only enhance the pull of the moon. For successful reentry you must stop inhaling.”
I open my mouth to tell her she’s crazy. That no breathing exercise is going to help me in a time like this. But then, strangely, I realize she’s right. I can breathe. Large lungfuls of air without any effort. I gulp them in like a fish out of water.
When I’ve finally caught my breath, I scramble to my feet. Now that I’m confident I’ll live, the anger burns in my gut. “Why didn’t you help me?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. “I could have died, you know.”
At first Glenda doesn’t answer. Just stands there, smiling her strange, serene smile. At that moment I’m not sure if I want to punch her or hug her.
“You don’t need my help anymore,” she says at last, placing a small white hand on my arm. Her skin is so pale, it’s almost translucent. As if she’s never seen the sun. “You’re almost ready,” she adds.
“Ready?” I repeat, confused. “Ready for what?”
“For reentry,” she replies, matter-of-factly. “The Eclipsers have been hard at work to get you out for some time now. Myself included. Our doctors think you’re almost there.”
Her words prick at my brain. As if they should mean something but don’t. “Reentry?” I repeat helplessly, not knowing what else to say.
“You’re starting to remember,” she says gently. “These dreams are a good sign of that. Soon you will awaken back home. But you’ve been gone a long time, Mariah, and your mind has been through a lot. Moongazing can cause serious brain damage. While our doctors believe your brain is still intact—all the vital functions still working—we’re not sure how your memory will be affected.”
I scrunch my face up, trying to make sense of her words. I know she’s speaking English, but I can’t make heads or tails of what she means. “Why are you calling me Mariah?” I ask at last, the one thing I can manage to focus on. The men in my dreams—they called me that, too.
Glenda reaches out to brush a strand of hair from my face, gazing at me with tender eyes. “Because that is who you are,” she replies. Then she glances at her wristwatch. A strange accessory for her otherwise primitive dress. “I’m sorry, there’s no time to explain,” she adds, her voice reluctant and apologetic. “You must listen carefully. When you go through reentry, you won’t know where you are. Or even who you are. You’ll be vulnerable, scared, alone. If Duske finds you, he may try to suck you back in—make you promises, get you back on the Gazers.” Her smile fades, her lips dipping into a frown. “Don’t trust him. We may not be able to get you out a second time.”
I stare at her, feeling as if I’ve walked into a movie twenty minutes late. I don’t even know what questions to ask.
Glenda continues. “When you get home, call Dawn. He’ll find you and take you to us.” Glenda reaches into a small reticule tied to her belt and pulls out a feather pen. She takes my hand in hers and scribbles something on the back.
Don’t trust Duske. Find Dawn.
-...- .-- -.
I stare at my hand, confused as anything. “What does that mean? What are these symbols?” I demand.
But Glenda only shakes her head. “I’m sorry, child. We’re out of time. It’s pulling you back now.” Her voice sounds a million miles away. “Just remember—seek Dawn. Avoid Duske.”
“Seek Dawn, avoid Duske,” I repeat helplessly. I can feel the darkness creep in around me, yanking at the edges of my sanity. “Anything else?”
“Yes. One other thing,” Glenda says, her voice grave. “Whatever happens, whatever you do, promise me you won’t look into the moon.”
THREE
“Miss Brown? Will you be joining us today? Or are you only here for your midmorning nap?”
Laughter erupted in the classroom as I slowly lifted my head from my desk, my brain still foggy from my dream. My face burned as I realized my professor, Dr. Davenport, along with my entire film studies class was watching me with great amusement. How long had I been out? Had I been screaming? Thank goodness I wasn’t gasping for breath this time. That would have pretty much zeroed out any coolness points I had left.
“Oh good. I’ve managed to unplug you from the matrix,” my teacher quipped, giving me a wink to let me know I was forgiven. Luckily I was one of her favorite students due to our shared secret love of sci-fi films. Not that she’d ever admit it to the rest of the wannabe filmmaker crowd. For them, if it wasn’t Citizen Kane, it was crap.
“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes and trying to regain my senses. My heart was still beating fast and reality still felt a bit hazy. Not surprising, really—the dream had been so real, and so disconcerting. Even now, all I could focus on were Glenda’s words.
You’re starting to remember …
Oh, I remembered something all right. Namely my roommate’s suggestion I go see a shrink.
“It’s okay, Miss Brown,” my teacher assured me. “Now, do you care to tell the class why Rick is so furious with Ilsa when she first shows up in Casablanca?”
My shoulders relaxed. Phew. An easy one. “He thinks she betrayed him,” I replied automatically. “When she disappeared in Paris on that final day.”
We’d watched the film two days, but I’d already seen it a billion times at home and at the IFC theater in the Village. Sci-fi flicks aside, it was one of my favorites. The love affair between Rick and Ilsa in the shadow of the Nazi invasion was just so tragic and romantic. And the ending! I mean, not to be all spoiler alert, but the sacrifice Rick makes to save the world? It’s so swoon-worthy.
Dr. Davenport smiled at me and opened her mouth, presumably to ask a followup question, but at that moment, the clock struck ten, signaling the end of class.
The room erupted in activity, students bouncing from their seats, grabbing their books and laptops, and heading for the exit, barely acknowledging their teacher’s reminder about the night’s assignment. As I walked down the row of desks, I felt a determined poke at my back. I whirled around to find my boyfriend, Craig, grinning at me from ear to ear.
“Good save,” he teased as we exited the classroom. “I thought you were a goner for sure.”
“Please.” I snorted. “It’d take more than Casablanca t
rivia to bring me down.”
He slapped me playfully on the back. “That’s my girl!” he praised. Then he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I endured it for a second, then brushed him away. He was always trying to PDA me in the hallway, which was more than a little embarrassing. After all, we were in school. Teachers were watching. Not to mention fellow students.
As we walked out of class I couldn’t help but release a large yawn. I needed to hit the union for a soda or something before my next class or I’d never make it. While I could hold my own on a quarter night’s sleep in film class, calculus was another story altogether.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Craig asked, walking beside me. “I mean, no offense, but you look like total hell.”
“Thanks.” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.
“I’m serious!” he insisted. “Like, if they threw a zombie contest competition, I bet you’d win. Without any makeup!”
“Hardy-har-har.” I turned the corner, finding myself wishing he’d walk away. I knew he was just being his normal silly old self, but his remarks were hitting uncomfortably close to home.
“Oh. come on, Skye!” he cried, grabbing me by the arms and dancing me around the hall. “Everyone knows zombies are so hot right now. Why, I bet if you met me at Luna tonight, you’d be the talk of the town.”
I sighed. I should have predicted this was where the conversation was headed. Luna was a nightclub on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Back when it was just a decrepit hole in the wall, Craig had scored a prized Friday night DJ gig from eleven to twelve. We used to have fun dressing up, skipping the line, and dancing till dawn. And I had to admit, I’d taken great pleasure in telling the other girls that yes, that was my cute boyfriend up there in the DJ booth spinning the sweet tunes.
That all changed two months ago, when Luna had gotten a write-up in Guest of a Guest, which turned it into the trendiest spot in town. The club kids fled as the socialites and Wall Streeters moved in, demanding banquettes and bottle service over dance floor space. The club owners loved it: finally they were making some bank. They tightened the velvet ropes and gave the 1 percent what they wanted. If we weren’t already regulars, there was no way the bouncers would have accepted our obviously oh-so-fake IDs.
With that in mind, even if I wasn’t exhausted beyond recognition, Luna was the last place I wanted to spend my Friday night. Not that I could explain that to Craig, who’d embraced the new clientele once he realized they came with a pay raise. “Sorry,” I said, searching for an acceptable excuse. Saying I was just going to go to bed wouldn’t cut it. “I’ve got work to do on the game. We launch in a couple weeks, and I don’t want to miss any bugs.”
As I could have predicted, Craig scowled. “It’s Friday night!” he protested. “You’re not allowed to get your geek on on Friday night. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s against the law. Or it should be, if it isn’t.”
He was too much. I opened my mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a familiar whirlwind of red hair, red lips, and red fingernails bursting in between us. Oh great. My day was getting better and better.
“What’s against the law?” Suzy, my second cousin, demanded, flashing a big smile in Craig’s direction and ignoring me completely. You’d think that since we were distantly related, not to mention the fact that she had a boyfriend of her own, she’d consider it bad form to flirt with mine. But evidently she didn’t get the Miss Manners memo on that one. And Craig, being Craig, used her adoration to his advantage.
“Skye here refuses to go watch me spin at Luna tonight,” my boyfriend informed her, giving me an overexaggerated pout. “Isn’t that completely uncool of her?”
Suzy nodded enthusiastically, as she did to pretty much anything Craig said. The girl was a walking, talking cliché. “Completely uncool,” she agreed, turning to me. “Especially since you haven’t been out in forever. We miss you, you know!”
I sighed. Yeah, they missed me. The old me, that was. The happy-go-lucky club kid who loved to dance and party without a care in the world. Not the new Skye, tormented by nightmares and driven mad by lack of sleep. If only they knew what a downer I’d be, they wouldn’t want me there in the first place.
“Sorry, Suze. I’m just not feeling well. I’ve been having these horrible dreams and—”
“Ooh, that reminds me, I had this crazy dream last night!” Suzy butted in. “Ryan Reynolds and I were all making out at Luna, right? And then Ryan Gosling walks in. And he’s all …”
I groaned as she babbled on in way too much detail about her celebrity threesome. Seriously, was everyone hooking up and making out in their dreams while I was busy being chased and tormented in mine?
“I’ve got to get to class,” I announced. At this point I wasn’t even going to be able to score that soda. I started to push my way through the two of them. But before I could make my escape Suzy’s fingers suddenly locked on to my arm, her fire engine–red nails digging painfully into my flesh.
“Ow!” I cried, turning around, my eyes widening as they fell upon her face. My heart started beating fast as I stared at my cousin.
Gone was the sparkle in her eyes, the laughter on her lips. Gone was the arrogance, the flirtation—all that I knew my cousin to be. Instead there was a strange … blankness to her expression. Blue eyes but nobody home.
“Uh, are you okay?” I asked, peering at her a little closer. The change was so startling and sudden—it was almost as if someone had flipped a switch. I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. But the hallway had become eerily quiet; the other students seemingly vanished into thin air. Even Craig, who was still standing there, seemed so preoccupied, staring down at his phone, it was as if he wasn’t actually present.
My heart started beating faster. Something was seriously weird here. Was I having another dream? I reluctantly turned back to Suzy.
“Skye, I need you to go to Luna tonight,” my cousin was saying in a slow voice that sounded nothing like her normal boisterous tone. She paused, then added, “I think Trent is cheating on me and I need you to find out if I’m right.”
I let out a breath, forcing my shoulders to relax. She was just freaked out about her stupid boyfriend, I told myself, that was all. Probably not without good reason.
“You need to go to Luna’s VIP room tonight and catch him with this girl,” Suzy continued in the same detached-sounding voice. “You need to take a photo of the two of them together and bring it back to me. So I’ll have the proof I need.”
She paused, waiting for my answer. I stared at her for a second, still puzzled by the weird blankness on her face. Then I sighed. While I could argue with her—I could tell her no a dozen times—in the end, it wasn’t worth the energy. Especially when she’d teamed up with Craig. And maybe it’d be good for me to get out for a bit. Maybe it would help me forget the dreams.
“Sure,” I relented. “Fine. Whatever.”
The words had barely left my lips when the hallway burst back into life. Students once again began streaming past us, chattering happily. Craig looked up from his phone. Suzy’s face transformed back to its normal vapid enthusiasm, and she squealed as she leapt into my arms, squeezing me tight and effectively cutting off my air supply.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried. “You’re the best cousin in the history of cousins.”
I couldn’t find any words to reply.
“And the best girlfriend, too,” Craig agreed. “Trust me, you won’t regret this!”
I was pretty sure I already did. But I just stood there, dazed and confused, as he kissed me on the cheek again, then turned and started down the hallway, whistling as he went. Suzy untangled herself from my arms and ran off after him, telling him to wait up. As I watched the two of them go, my eyes caught a glimpse of something I’d never seen before on the back of my cousin’s neck.
A tattoo of the moon.
FOUR
I kept my promise that night, walking past the seemingly endless line, whi
ch wrapped all the way around one city block, and wondered once again what had happened to my precious Luna. The once hole-in-the-wall club—with more cockroaches than clients—was now the must-go destination for Manhattan’s rich and bored. I was pretty sure the designer bags in this line alone could be sold for a down payment on a Park Avenue penthouse.
I could feel the jealous stares burn at my backside as I shrugged by with a Forever 21 purse on my shoulder and waltzed up to the velvet ropes, giving the bouncer a burly hug. Why does she get to skip the line? Who does she think she is? Bruno hugged me back. He looked like total thug life, but was actually a complete teddy bear.
“Hey, dollface,” he greeted. “Slumming it tonight?”
I laughed. Bruno had been working the door since the days Luna paid actresses to line up and attract a crowd. He knew as well as I did how ridiculous this place had become. “Just came to check Craig out,” I told him. “And see some friends. Do you know if Trent is here?”
Bruno shook his head. “Haven’t seen him yet,” he replied. “But I’m sure he’s on his way. You know he never misses a Friday.”
I glanced at my watch. Great. I’d hoped to be in and out of here so I could get back home and get some sleep. Evidently luck was not going to be my lady tonight.
Bruno unclipped the velvet rope, and I did a doubletake when I caught a glimpse of a small moon tattooed between his thumb and forefinger. The exact design of Suzy’s neck art. Was this some kind of new trend I hadn’t heard about? The symbol of a new band everyone loved? I shivered, feeling unnerved all over again. But Bruno just flashed me a toothy grin. “Have a good time!” was all he said.
Pushing down my growing trepidation, I forced my feet to keep walking down the red carpet, through the main doors, down a black-lit corridor, and onto the main dance floor. It was early, but the club was already pretty packed with hot, blinged-out dancers, gyrating to fast-paced electronica mixed with hip-hop.