“And yet you’ve all done it at one time or another,” Zo commented. He turned his gaze to Orlando. “You believed in my vision.” He moved his focus to Valerie. “You followed me willingly.” Then to Dante. “You told me your secrets.” And finally to me. “You gave me your heart.”
My fingers touched the empty hollow of my throat where Dante’s locket should have been, but wasn’t.
“Looking for this?” Zo asked, withdrawing his hand from his pocket. A silver chain dangled from his fingers, a heart-shaped locket spinning in the air.
I heard Valerie gasp next to me.
Dante leaned toward me and spoke softly. “What is it? What does he have?” His voice was heavy with frustration at not being able to see.
“My locket,” I choked out. “He still has my locket.”
Dante’s mouth thinned into an unhappy line. He shifted his weight next to me as though he wanted to rush forward, break open the shell around Zo, and take back the locket by force. But he settled back onto his heels, his arms folded across his chest and his fingers tapping his arm impatiently, anxiously.
“Your locket?” Zo asked, amused. He flicked the heart into his palm and then slipped it up through his fingers, making it walk across the tops of his knuckles, back and forth, back and forth. He paced the perimeter of his prison, following the curve of glass and shadow with careful, precise footsteps. “I’m surprised at you, Abby. You’ve worn this little bauble for months now and yet you still don’t know what it is. What it means.”
I narrowed my eyes, sensing a trap behind his words but unable to see the trigger that would snap it shut.
“Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that Dante hasn’t told you the truth about the locket. Maybe you’d like to believe that he didn’t know the truth about it himself.” Zo looked from me to Dante and back again, and his voice sharpened. “Though after what he did to my guitar, I doubt that possibility very much. No, he knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Give it back,” Dante growled. “The locket belongs to Abby.”
“And now it belongs to me,” Zo said, the silver heart catching the light as it continued to travel through his fingers. “That’s my point. Don’t worry. I’ll give it back when I’m done with it.” Zo pinned Dante with a hard look. “That is, if there’s anything left.”
“What truth?” I demanded. “What are you talking about?” I was tired of Zo’s hints and thinly veiled barbs. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake the words out of him, but the shell that kept him inside so effectively also kept us out.
Zo silently arched an eyebrow at Dante.
I touched Dante’s arm. His muscles were in tight knots; his skin felt like stone.
“What truth?” I asked again, my voice quiet, gentle. “Dante?”
“The locket is more than just a symbol of my love,” Dante said. “It’s more than just a heart.” He touched the scarred links along my neck. He hesitated, then whispered, “It is my heart.”
Valerie squeaked in surprise and covered her mouth with one hand. With her other, she grabbed Orlando’s arm. “Oh no, no, no,” she murmured. “This is bad. Oh, so very, very bad.”
Zo remained silent, his eyes unreadable through the wall of time.
I tried to pull my thoughts together. “But I’ve always known that. You told me that when you gave me the locket.”
Dante started to shake his head before I even finished. “No, Abby, listen to me. The locket is my heart. When I said that my life and my heart were always in your hands, I meant it. I am linked to the locket, and so whatever happens to it—”
Dante didn’t finish the thought, but he didn’t have to. Understanding crashed over me and I turned in horror toward Zo, who held the locket in the palm of his hand. He closed his long fingers into a fist and smiled at me.
No. It couldn’t be true. I wouldn’t let it be true. I hadn’t come so far and risked so much only to lose Dante now. I gripped his hand with mine, my thoughts spiraling away like so many loose threads. How had we ended up in this impossible situation? How had Zo managed to collect and control so much of our hearts? First Orlando, his heart broken by a loyalty betrayed; then Valerie, her obsession repaid with pain. Zo had invaded my mind, twisting both my memories and my heart. And now Zo held Dante’s life, literally, in his hands.
I couldn’t look away from Zo’s fist. My heart beat high and hard in my throat. I had regretted giving Zo the locket the moment it had left my hands. Now that I understood exactly what I had done, I had to do whatever I could to get it back.
Zo lounged against the shell of time, clearly enjoying my distress. “When I came to you in the cathedral, Abby, I was so mad at Dante for breaking my guitar. I was—if you’ll pardon the expression—blind with rage. I wanted to make him hurt. I wanted to make him bleed. And I knew that making you mine would kill him. After all, what would be worse than seeing the woman you loved be with the man you hated? But then you gave me the locket like the obedient little girl that you are, and when I realized what I held in my hands . . .” Zo smiled in delight, a teacher whose pupil had unexpectedly provided the right answer. “I couldn’t believe my luck. Imagine it. I can have you, Abby”—he held out his left hand, palm up, as though waiting for me to take it—“and I can destroy Dante”—he opened his right hand where the silver locket lay tangled in its chain—“at the same time.”
“No,” I whispered.
“A victory like this deserves an audience, don’t you think? And I suspect Dante’s destruction will be even more satisfying to watch than his death,” Zo said, tipping his right hand and allowing the locket to clatter to the ground.
It bounced once, twice, and the moment it settled on the ground, Zo lifted his boot and slammed the edge of the heel down hard, directly onto the locket.
A sound like a shot rang out and Dante fell to his knees, his hand clutching at his chest.
I screamed and crouched down next to him, immediately wrapping my arms around him as though I could hold him together. He groaned in pain at my touch.
Orlando roared in protest, leaping toward Zo, but stopped short of contact with the shell. I had told him not to touch it, and, ever true to his word, he wouldn’t, even though the effort of his restraint caused him to ball his hands into fists. I could see the hard muscles in his arms pull tight under his skin.
I brushed Dante’s hair away from his face, trying to see where he had been hurt. He seemed fine, but I had seen Zo’s boot hit the locket. I had heard the snap. I feared the wound was internal, somewhere I couldn’t see it. Where I couldn’t fix it.
Zo’s maniacal laughter cut through the sound of my blood roaring through my ears.
Looking up, I saw him lift his boot again, ready to deliver the final, crushing blow.
It felt like everything around me—everything inside me—froze in horror.
And then I saw a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. Valerie hit the shell with the flat of her hand. A web of cracks appeared beneath her palm, the thin black lines racing away from the epicenter of the blow.
Zo dropped into a crouch, looking up at Valerie in surprise.
“Valerie!” I screamed. Dante groaned in my arms, his skin clammy and cooling fast.
Orlando whipped his head around at my shout and grabbed Valerie, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her away.
“No!” she shouted, fighting to get free. “He isn’t supposed to have the River Policeman’s heart! We have to get it back!”
A crackle of neon-blue energy arced off the curve of the glass, leaping across the distance to Valerie’s hand. She screamed in pain, cradling her hand against her chest. A bright light surrounded her entire body, the glow bleeding over Orlando’s hands. She shook like a leaf on a tree, and she would have fallen if Orlando had not been holding her up.
But it was too late. The damage was done.
The crack zigzagged vertically along the shell, branching out into multiple fragments, each break sounding like an
out-of-tune chime.
Zo’s small prison shattered to pieces around him.
“The locket!” Valerie called out. “Take the locket from him. Take it!”
I stood up in a half-crouch, torn between wanting to snatch the locket away from Zo and wanting to stay close by Dante’s side.
Orlando spun Valerie out of his grip and jumped toward Zo, his hands spread and murderous anger in his eyes.
But his hands closed around nothing, and he stumbled to a stop, standing where Zo had been only a moment ago.
Zo had moved too, and faster than ever before. He was gone without even a ripple in the air to mark his passage. He left nothing behind, in fact, except for the echo of his laughter and a small silver locket that had been split in two.
Chapter 15
Orlando bent down and carefully, reverently picked up the two halves of the silver locket from the floor.
Even though Dante’s skin was cold, I was the one shaking uncontrollably. Everything had happened so fast. I could barely keep the sequence of events straight, but that didn’t stop me from replaying the action in my head, looking for where I could have changed something or done something different. But all I saw was the moment when Zo had broken the locket and Dante had fallen to the ground.
I had failed. And now Dante was paying the price for my weakness.
Without looking up, I held out my hand for the locket.
As Orlando placed the pieces in my palm, one of the halves broke again.
Dante shuddered once, goose bumps lifting on his arms.
Numbness settled over me. I couldn’t stop looking at the four misshapen lumps of silver in my hand: a flat, heart-shaped piece with the hinge still attached, a second heart-shaped piece, rounded on top, but tapering off into nothingness, the small triangle tip of a broken heart, and a silver key that belonged to a door that no longer existed. I felt as small and jagged as the key in my hand. And as useless.
Zo had done his work thoroughly. I couldn’t imagine how to even begin to mend the locket.
Orlando knelt across from me. He placed his hand on his brother’s chest, his movements swift and sure. “He’s still breathing,” he said with relief. “And his heart feels strong.”
My eyes immediately flashed to the broken locket in my hand before I realized what Orlando was really saying.
Orlando continued his report, his tone brisk and official. “It’s slower than I would like, but still strong.” He ran his hands over the length of Dante’s body. “It doesn’t feel like anything is broken. No fresh blood. At least, not that I can see.” He leaned back on his heels, his hands resting on his thighs. He frowned. “Without knowing exactly what happened to him, I don’t know what else I can do.”
I wondered fleetingly about Orlando’s efficiency in dealing with trauma, and then I remembered that he had been a soldier, had been to war. He had probably seen much worse than this.
I sat down heavily on the floor, settling Dante’s head in my lap. The scar across his eyes looked terrible.
I carefully touched the fragments of the locket still in my hand. When Dante didn’t react, I slowly shifted the pieces closer together, laying the broken half of the front heart on top of the back half, trying to reassemble the locket as best as I could. I slipped the key back inside, too; it seemed right that they stay together. I watched Dante for any signs of distress, but the only change seemed to be that his breathing became easier the closer the locket came to being whole again. A light pink even returned to his face.
Valerie crawled toward me on her hands and knees. “I’m sorry, sorry, sorry,” she mumbled, tears streaking down her face. A faint blue glow still surrounded her right hand from where she had broken open Zo’s prison. “I was trying to help. But I didn’t. I made it worse, didn’t I?” She peered into my open palm. “Did you get it? The locket—is this the locket? Is this all that is left?”
I couldn’t speak. At the sound of her voice, my numbness disintegrated in a flash of anger so hot it made my blood crackle like fire in my veins. If Valerie hadn’t broken the shell, Zo would still be here. And if Zo was still here, I was sure I could make him fix the locket. I didn’t know how, but the blind rage inside me insisted that it was true.
I closed my fingers over the locket in a fist. I didn’t want Valerie to be anywhere near it or even see it.
“Get her out of here,” I ordered Orlando in a flat voice. “Now.”
Orlando moved and gently lifted Valerie to her feet, drawing her away from my side.
The more rational part of me observed coolly that if Valerie hadn’t broken the shell, then Zo would surely have destroyed even more of the locket than he already had. Yes, Zo was gone, but at least he had left behind the locket in his haste to get away. And with these small fragments of the locket in our possession, maybe we could do something to help Dante. At least, I hoped so.
“Oh,” Valerie sobbed, covering her mouth in horror. “Hearts are so very fragile in the Pirate King’s hands. You saw what he did to mine.” She moved her hands from her mouth to her chest, covering the breast pocket of her bathrobe. “And to yours.” She pressed her hands to Orlando’s chest. “And to the River Policeman’s.” Her voice sank into a strange, singsong chant. “What the Pirate King takes, is what the Pirate King breaks, and we all must suffer the Pirate King’s fate.” Valerie touched her forehead and looked up at Orlando with glassy eyes. “I don’t feel so good. My head feels all wobbly.”
Orlando tightened his grip on Valerie, holding her upright in his arms so she didn’t fall.
Valerie turned toward me, her face pale and drawn. “I don’t want to hurt anymore,” she said with a whimper.
“Take her to the bank,” I said wearily to Orlando, my anger having burned itself out. “When she touched the shell around Zo, she absorbed the time I used to create it. If she doesn’t burn off the extra time, it’ll make her sick.”
Orlando hesitated, looking from me to Dante.
“Go,” I said to Orlando quietly. “You said it yourself. There’s nothing else we can do. I’ll watch over him. Come back when you can.”
Finally, Orlando nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”
They left, and the shop fell into silence. It was just me and Dante. Alone for the moment.
“Dante?” I called softly, placing my free hand against his cheek.
He didn’t answer, but I felt him relax a little at my touch.
Reassured by his reaction, I relaxed a little as well.
I wiped away the sweat from his forehead, careful not to touch the wound across his eyes. I brushed back his hair. I placed my hand that held the locket on his chest, right above his heart. I counted the beats of his heart, until I felt confident that each one was stronger than the one before it.
“Come back to me,” I whispered. “Wherever you are, whatever happened to you, come back to me. Please.”
He didn’t move, but his skin didn’t feel quite so cold anymore.
I sighed and rubbed at my forehead. The room looked like I felt: confused and chaotic. The counter was still covered with open boxes and bottles. A few shelves had been dislodged during Zo and Dante’s altercation, and the floor was scuffed with a mixed pattern of prints from their boots, Valerie’s bare feet, and my sneakers. The fire still burned bright, but there were also black smudges of soot along the hearth.
Clearly the shop had seen better days. But then, hadn’t we all?
I felt a huge weight of weariness lodge in my chest. What was I supposed to do now? This wasn’t how I thought events would unfold at all. The plan was for me to come through the door and close the loop and save Dante. Instead, Zo had found me on the other side of the door, he’d ruined my memories and invaded my mind, and Dante—my indestructible Master of Time Dante—was wounded body and soul.
Without warning, Dante stirred in my lap, his head tilting toward me. He reached up with one hand, and I clasped it before he could touch my face. I didn’t want him to feel the tears on my cheeks.
>
“Dante?” I felt like a light had come to life inside of me, igniting a joy that reached deep into my soul. “Are you all right? Can you hear me? Can you talk to me?” I had more questions, but I didn’t want to overwhelm him with too much too soon.
“Zo’s gone, isn’t he?” Dante asked. His voice was weak, but at least he was talking. He was still with me. He was going to be okay.
I nodded.
“He broke the locket, didn’t he?”
I nodded again.
Dante exhaled slowly as though his ribs pained him. “I felt it. Here.” He touched my hand that still rested on his chest above his heart. “It felt like a fist had reached inside me and squeezed. The pressure . . . it was worse than going through the door. Worse than my worst day on the bank.” Dante grimaced. “If what Zo felt when I broke his guitar was anything like that—”