“There was a meadow she liked to visit. A sprawling, rolling ocean of flowers and grass. She loved to dance in that meadow. But then one day the Pirate King sailed up and said that he would take her away from her meadow, from her flowers and her friends. The Pirate King said that it would make him happy to make her live on his giant pirate ship. He said that once they sailed away, she would never have to come back home.
“But instead of making the Flower Girl happy, that news made her sad. She didn’t want to leave her family. And she didn’t like the Pirate King. She didn’t like his black eyes or his sharp teeth. She may have been a mouse, but even a mouse can roar. The Flower Girl said no to the Pirate King.” Valerie shuddered with surprise and disbelief.
“So the Pirate King plucked the Flower Girl and cast her aside.” Valerie gently stroked the cloth wrapped around the bottle in her lap. “He left her in the meadow that she loved, where she withered and died, her heart pierced with a thorn and all the petals of her soul crumbling to dust.”
Valerie’s voice trailed off into silence for a moment before she finished the story.
“And after she died, the river swept her away, never to return, just like it will sweep all of us away one day.” She blinked slowly at me and Orlando, and a sad and broken smile fluttered across her lips. “Well, not us, of course—not anymore.” She leaned toward Dante, whispering conspiratorially. “And not you, either. Not unless you choose to go.”
“I’ll not leave Abby behind,” Dante said firmly. “No matter what.”
“Then I can’t promise you’ll have a happy ending to your story either,” Valerie said sadly. “You know the barriers are thinning. You know some of them are even breaking.”
“Yes, but we’re going to fix them—” I started.
“I already told you—you’re too late. Everlastingly too late.” She lowered the bottle to her lap, a little of the liquid spilling out onto her clothes. “The dreams are already escaping. Soon they will all be gone. And then nothing will be left.”
“Do you still have a dream, Valerie?” Dante asked quietly. “Or has yours already escaped?”
She looked down at the glass in her lap; the red rose petals had darkened the liquid to the color of blood. “I dream of standing still. I am tired of feeling like I’m flying when I know I’m really falling. I want to rest. I want to find silence again.” She ran her finger along the curved edge of the bottle, and when she looked up, her eyes were bright with an inner light. “People think edges are bad, but they are really there to keep us from falling to pieces. They don’t hold us back, they hold us in. They hold us together.”
I blinked back tears. This was the closest I’d seen Valerie to being back to her old self. Dante’s poem and Orlando’s potion had worked wonders. Maybe, with a little more time and a little more help, we could bring her all the way back to sanity.
“I know how you feel, Valerie,” I said quietly, knowing it was the truth. “And I promise I’ll do what I can to help your dream to come true.”
“Oh, Abby, my sweet,” a voice rang out from the front door of the shop. “You should know better than to make promises you can’t keep.”
Chapter 13
I jumped to my feet a second after Dante did. He automatically positioned himself between me and the figure who slouched against the door frame.
Valerie twisted around as well, the bottle in her lap crashing to the floor. When she saw Zo standing in the doorway, she cried out with joy.
“You came back for me! I knew you would!” She crawled through the shards of broken glass toward him.
When she was close enough to touch his knee, Zo looked down in disgust, closed the door behind him, and sidestepped her grasping hand. He stalked forward, his boots cracking against the floor, drawing a straight line from the door to Dante. And to me, standing behind him.
“Wait! It’s me. Look at me! I’m here! I’ve been waiting for you.” Valerie’s voice rang out louder and more urgently the farther Zo walked away from her. “No, please! Don’t go!”
Zo ignored her cries, his stride steady and purposeful.
Valerie collapsed into a puddle of despair in his wake, a mournful wail dribbling from her mouth around broken sobs.
Orlando shoved out of his chair by the fireplace, and without looking, Zo flung out his hand. “Don’t. I’m not here for you. This is not your fight. If you choose to walk away, I’ll let you go. Otherwise . . .”
Orlando ignored Zo’s unspoken threat as completely as Zo had ignored Valerie’s desperate pleas. He moved forward to flank Dante, adding his protection and blocking Zo’s access to me.
Zo’s steps slowed, then stopped. “Ah, brave and noble Orlando, still playing the hero. It’s good that you keep trying. Maybe one of these days you’ll get it right.”
I felt Orlando bristle, a hard edge of tension pulling his shoulders taut. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, Lorenzo, but I should kill you for what you’ve done.”
“You could try,” Zo said amicably, “but you wouldn’t succeed. I’m not who you think I am. Not anymore. Isn’t that right, Dante?”
Orlando glanced at Dante and then at me, looking for an explanation or clarification, and I shook my head slightly. Now was not the time to explain. And being so close to Zo made the lingering drop of darkness in my mind buzz with angry energy.
“And valiant Dante,” Zo continued. “You don’t look much better than you did the last time I saw you. Of course, the last time I saw you, you were smashing my guitar. You shouldn’t have done that, you know. I’m not really a forgive-and-forget kind of person.” He nodded toward Dante’s wounded eyes, and his mocking tone held bitter laughter. “Tell me, how is life in the shadows these days? Are you totally blind, or just mostly?”
“Why are you here?” Dante demanded.
“To make you pay the consequences for your actions,” he said, all trace of humor gone from his voice. “And to take back what’s mine.”
“There’s nothing here that belongs to you.”
Zo turned to me. His eyes were the same feverish black they had been at the cathedral. “Is that true, Abby? My sweet, sweet Abigail.” When my name passed his lips, the buzzing in my head turned from a roar to a shout.
I closed my eyes against the pain singing in my head. “Leave me alone!” I felt his pull on me like a magnet. But even as my feet itched to move in his direction, I knew that was the wrong thing to do. I knew the closer I was to him, the more I was in danger. I pressed my hands flat against Dante’s back and leaned my forehead between his shoulder blades, hoping that the contact would help keep me grounded.
I tried repeating Dante’s healing poem in my head, hoping the words would help protect me.
Zo laughed, but the sound was wild and unsettled. “You should know better than to leave your prize possessions unattended, Dante. Why, anyone could just come by and take them and break them into pieces.”
My blood froze; I had heard those same words before. The poem I had been clinging to crumbled like dust.
“She’s not broken. And she’s not yours. Her memories are restored,” Dante said, his voice controlled and certain. “You no longer have a hold over her.”
“Is that so?” Zo’s long fingers twitched as though seeking for strings to play, for a song to command me. I knotted my hands in Dante’s shirt and held on so I wouldn’t fall. “Abby’s memories may be back, but I’m still in her head. How does it feel, Abby?” he called over Dante’s shoulder. “Do you remember how happy it made you to say that you loved me? Do you remember our kiss?”
My mouth burned, and I pressed my lips together to keep from answering.
Valerie made a strangled noise before her sobs cut into silence.
“You should go,” Orlando said to Zo. His voice was quiet, but with an edge that sounded like a sword being unsheathed. “We all appreciate your flair for dramatic entrances, as well as your pathetic attempts at threats and insults, but you are not welcome here.”
/> Zo arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I think someone here might disagree—” He gestured with a flourish toward Valerie, lumped in front of the door.
Only Valerie wasn’t there anymore.
She stood directly behind Zo, an avenging angel of contained fury, and when he turned, she slashed out with her ragged fingernails, rocking his head to the side and cutting four grooves deep into his cheek.
Zo stumbled back a step, off balance and surprised. His hand flashed to his face, a snarl distorting his features.
“You took my heart,” she said, her words clipped and her voice unnaturally calm. Zo’s blood dripped off her fingers. “I want it back.”
Zo dabbed at his wounds, barely glancing at the smears of red on his hand. He worked his jaw and shook his head a little. The entire left side of his face burned red from the force of Valerie’s attack.
I watched in horror as the slashes on Zo’s face closed up, leaving behind only clean skin. I swallowed hard.
He straightened to his full height and a smile tugged at his lips. He looked at Valerie with coal-black eyes. “No,” he said.
Valerie wasn’t the only one who blinked in surprise. I gasped. Orlando rocked onto the balls of his feet, ready to spring forward, but Dante gripped his arm and held him in place.
“You gave me your heart,” Zo said. “And now it’s mine to do with as I please. Break it. Burn it. Leave it behind.” He shrugged. “But I’m certainly not going to give it back.”
I saw the hurt and the rage descend over Valerie’s face, pouring through her body like acid. “You can’t make me be your new Flower Girl. I won’t do it.” She lashed out with her fist again, but Zo caught her wrist and twisted, spinning her around and forcing her arm behind her back.
Valerie yelped as her knees buckled. Her hair whipped back and forth as she struggled to maintain her balance.
Zo pulled her close to him, his arm snaking around her body and pinning her to his chest. “I never asked you to.” He watched me from behind Valerie’s shoulder, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that I could feel like a physical presence. “Besides, there’s someone else I want now. Someone I want more.”
Valerie made a broken, desolate mewing sound. Red blotches bloomed on her face. Then her swollen eyes turned angry, and her mouth curled from anguish to pain. “I hate you so much it hurts,” she growled out between tears.
Zo lowered his face, his smile growing into a grin, and nuzzled at Valerie’s neck. “I love you too.”
“That’s enough!” Dante roared, springing forward. Midflight, he disappeared.
I stepped back in surprise, but there was no time for anyone else to move before Dante reappeared behind Zo.
Dante punched Zo in the back, a swift jab below the ribs that caused him to grunt in surprise and pain. He released his hold on Valerie, who crumpled to the floor, all her limbs loose and disjointed. Immediately, Dante grabbed Zo and they both flickered away, leaving behind only a patch of blurry air.
I knew Dante couldn’t see Zo—not directly. But he could see the flow of the river clearly from the bank. I suspected Dante had gone there for a flicker of a moment, pinpointed where Zo was, and then positioned himself for a sudden attack.
It had been a brave and impulsive thing to do. Usually Dante was more reserved, prone to think things through before acting. But I was grateful to him for springing to Valerie’s rescue when no one else could.
“Come on,” I said to Orlando, darting around him. I grabbed his arm on my way past, pulling him behind me as I raced to Valerie’s side in a handful of steps. “Help me move her.”
The air rippled again and Dante and Zo reappeared, but only for a flicker of time. I caught a glimpse of Dante’s hands locked around Zo’s bicep. Zo’s foot lashed out as though ready to take a step, or kick out a knee, and then they vanished again.
“Lorenzo vanished like that before at the cathedral. Does that mean he’s been through the door too? He is like Dante? Is he from the future?” Orlando demanded, joining me and lifting Valerie from the floor.
I nodded. “Dante and Zo have both been through the door a second time, so they’re free to travel the river at will.” I hurried to the counter, checking to make sure it was high enough and sturdy enough that it could serve as a shield if necessary. “It’s also how Zo was able to heal from Valerie’s attack.”
“Zo?” Orlando repeated, his confusion transforming into understanding. “Lorenzo.”
Another flicker, but this time I saw that Zo had cocked his fist back, aiming a blow for Dante’s head.
I gasped, ready to shout out a warning, but they were already gone.
The last time Dante and Zo had flickered like this had been in the blasted basement of the Dungeon, and Zo had done it specifically to weaken the barriers holding the river in place. I hoped that Dante was taking precautions to keep the barriers intact this time, but with the two of them fighting as well as flickering, and with the river so unstable, I didn’t know if that was even possible. I couldn’t take the risk.
“Here,” I said to Orlando, pointing to the alcove where the counter curved to meet the wall. “Put her here.”
Orlando knelt and gently helped Valerie sit up against the wall. “You’re safe now. Everything is all right,” he repeated in a constant wash of murmured reassurance.
She pulled her knees to her chest and gripped her wrists, the muscles in her arms tight as she strained to hold herself together. A blank mask covered her face, bone-white and flat. Her eyes glazed over gray, rolling in their sockets, looking without seeing. She swayed in place, picking up speed until she rocked back and forth so hard her head hit the wall.
I winced at the thud.
A flicker of activity drew my attention. I looked up in time to see Zo appear—but alone this time. He shook out his hand as though he had connected with something hard and unforgiving. He stepped toward me, a flat anger masking his face and his eyes burning. Orlando moved to intercept him, but at the same moment, Dante materialized and knocked Zo off his feet. They disappeared before they hit the ground.
“Will you stay with her?” I asked, touching Orlando’s shoulder and nodding toward Valerie.
“Where are you going?” He twisted out of his crouch to his feet.
I had forgotten how tall he was, how imposing he could be.
“I have to help Dante,” I said, pointing to the main floor of the shop where glimpses of Dante and Zo appeared and disappeared like shadows of birds in flight.
“How? They’re too fast, and—”
“I don’t know,” I interrupted. “But I have to do something.”
Faced with an impossible situation, my mind ran through the possibilities, looking for a creative, workable solution. It was a discouragingly short list. But there was one thing on the list that I thought I could do. It was crazy and dangerous and there was no guarantee that it would even work, but it was something I could do. And right now, that was what I wanted—action. Even if it was the longest shot I could take.
Before I had traveled through time, I had made three trips to the bank: once with Dante, once by myself, and once with Leo and V. Every time I had gone, I had brought some of my time with me. And every time I had returned to the river, I had brought back some of the bank’s timelessness, too, which had appeared as a shell of glass around me, trapping me inside. And every time, Leo had been there to help restore the balance of time and set me free.
Now that I had passed through the door, I was bound to the bank and outside of time. But I wondered if I could still tap into that strange exchange of time and timelessness like I had before. If so, maybe I could craft a shell of time and trap Zo in it.
And if not, I hoped no one else but me would suffer the consequences.
I scanned the room, looking for the best place to stand and launch my attack. I would have to time it perfectly. But how could I let Dante know what I wanted to do? I would need his help. Or at least let him know where not to be.
A thud, a
nd a grunt. Zo landed hard on the ground, Dante a half beat behind him, his boots thumping into place next to Zo’s head. Zo rolled to the side, his dark hair falling into his eyes. Sweat covered his face. He was gone like a smeared shadow.
“Dante!” I called out before he jumped away. He looked at me, but his body remained poised to vanish. “I have a plan. Can you get Zo next to the fireplace?”
Dante nodded, and then he was gone.
“How can Dante be following him—I mean, if he can’t see?” Orlando asked.
“He can see the river,” I said. “It’s enough.” I pointed to the patch of rippling air where Zo had been a moment ago. “Plus, Zo’s getting sloppy.”
Dante flashed into and out of view so fast—all dark hair and intensity—that the afterimage of him burned in my eyes. I would have only one chance, I knew that. And if I was wrong, if I misjudged the moment to spring the trap, Zo would go free and Dante would be caught instead.