by Ally Condie
Nico didn’t want to look down, afraid of what he might see.
But he did.
Yellow-green liquid seethed in a huge pool at the base of the craggy chamber.
All the blood in Nico’s body drained through his toes.
He was staring into the crackling maw of another Rift.
14
OPAL
Opal knew she’d taken a risk.
But it was getting really hard to visit the houseboat. And on Thanksgiving? No chance.
Sometimes you have to bring something home. She glanced at the antique chess set resting on her bed. No one’s using it, and it’s not like old chess pieces scream Darkdeep or anything. In fact, the game is probably safer here.
Opal ran a finger across the board—mahogany, inlaid with alternating black and white stone squares in a traditional checkered pattern. Its hand-carved onyx and marble pieces were scattered on her comforter. She stood the queens side by side, then placed the wooden one that had arrived through the Darkdeep in between them. The new version was a poor replica of the pristine stone pieces, but the resemblance was unmissable. This third queen was clearly meant to mimic the original two from the chess set. But why? And who sent it?
Opal nearly screamed at the maddening impossibleness of it all.
She was still ticked at Nico and Emma for not making more of an effort to include her in their crazy plan—she’d found out about the trip in a stupid text. Opal’s parents never would’ve allowed her to actually go with them, but being left out stung. After all, she was the one who’d discovered the stinking clue!
At least Tyler was around, as trapped in Timbers for the holiday as she was. After getting dropped off by his father, Opal had spent the afternoon eating slightly overcooked turkey and enduring endless family gossip, before finally escaping to her room.
The chess pieces had a pull on her. They felt important. Like a key.
Or she was imagining things?
Opal exhaled, glancing at the pile of undone homework on her desk, textbooks buried under a stack of printed articles about Yellowstone. Her eye snagged on the old leather notebook, the one with asters and opals on each page. Opal felt a twinge of guilt. I guess I’ve taken a few things home.
Murmurs carried from the hallway. Her mother was giving a house tour to visiting relatives, and they’d reached the second floor.
Her door swept open without a knock. Opal barely stifled a growl.
“Chess, dear?” Kathryn Walsh lilted, stepping inside. Before Opal could answer, her mother turned to a trio standing in the hall behind her. “Opal’s bedroom has hand-crafted crown molding and a sculpted ceiling medallion. All original to the house, of course.”
Aunt Grace and Uncle Kelvin made polite “impressed” noises. Opal silently wagered her college fund that they’d been forced into this tour. Renovations were finally complete, and this was the first time her mom had been able to show the fully restored property to anyone. Kathryn pretended not to notice Uncle Kelvin hiding a yawn.
Grandma Heming, however, clasped her hands together in delight. She’s been excited about every tiny thing all day long. How could anyone enjoy discussing the quality of hand-sewn armchair fabrics? How’d Dad get out of this? He and Uncle Eric were downstairs watching a football game.
Mercifully, Kathryn gave her daughter a distracted wave and stepped back out of the room, droning on about light fixtures as she continued down the hall. Of course she left the door wide open.
With a huff, Opal got up to close it, but her father’s voice boomed up the stairs. “Opie? You have a friend here! I’m sending her up!”
“Her?” Opal said to herself, edging into the corridor.
Lily Nantes appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying a plate covered in aluminum foil. Catching sight of Opal, she hurried over. “Hi, Opal! I brought you some lemon meringue pie. You said it was your favorite.”
Opal smothered a groan of irritation. “Thanks, Lily. That’s very nice of you.” She stood in the doorway and took the proffered dish, hoping the younger girl would bounce back down the steps.
“No problem.” Lily seemed very pleased with herself. “My mom would’ve finished it off, but I made sure you got some.”
“Great.” Opal shifted awkwardly, not inviting Lily in. “Um, what’s Logan up to?” Like she didn’t know.
“He went on some trip with Nico,” Lily said casually. “Logan didn’t tell my dad, so he’s in big trouble. Even though he used his own money, and Mom said it was okay, which I don’t get. Still, I bet he’s grounded until Christmas.”
If the world lasts that long.
Opal shoved the disturbing thought away.
“Oh,” she managed instead. “That seems … strange.”
“Dad’s been super bummed lately.” Lily’s forehead scrunched in confusion. “I think maybe he’s mad about sports, or something. He’s been hiding in his office room all day. Mom says he’s avoiding the dishes, but it’s still weird. It’s soooo boring at my house. What are you doing?” She peered around Opal into her bedroom. “Oooh, is that chess! Can we play? I learned at school! We had a tournament!”
Opal squeezed her eyes shut. Why hadn’t she closed the dumb door? But then it occurred to her that Lily might know some things about Nantes family history. I could ask questions.
“Come check it out.” Opal stepped aside. Lily bounded into the room like a happy puppy. In a swift move that Lily didn’t notice, Opal scooped up the wooden queen and tucked it under her pillow. She didn’t want anyone else to see it.
“Can I be white?” Lilly asked, eyes glued to the ancient board.
“Sure. But I warn you, I’m pretty bad.”
“No problem! I’ve only played a few times.”
The game began. Lily moved confidently each time it was her turn, a sly smile tilting her lips. Opal had to think hard before every move. A fourth grader is smoking me. But she hadn’t agreed to this match for the sport of it.
“So … do you have a lot of family in for a visit?”
“Not this year,” Lily said, sliding a pawn forward.
Opal brought out her knight, then grimaced as she lost it one move later. “Why is that?”
Lily shrugged. “My aunt and uncle and their family usually come down from Vancouver, but Dad didn’t invite anyone this year, so they all went to Hawaii instead.” Her voice grew indignant. “Dad said we couldn’t go. He insisted we stay home, even though nothing important is going on and I never get to see my cousins. Mom didn’t speak to him for a whole weekend.”
“That stinks.” Opal felt a tingle creep across her scalp. Why couldn’t they leave town?
Lily placed her bishop dangerously close to Opal’s back line. “Check.”
Opal moved her king. Above their heads, floorboards creaked. Lily’s gaze shot skyward.
“Just my family touring the third floor,” Opal said distractedly. “Don’t worry, no ghosts.”
“Oh.” Lily looked relieved, and then tried to hide it. “I know that.”
“Does your house make weird noises, too? Someone should put up warning signs in places this old.”
Lily nodded sourly. “I swear there’s been a ton more of them lately. Weird scratching sounds, and once I heard something hiss under the deck. Just the laundry vent, Mom said.” She carefully advanced her queen, leaving it open to attack. “Check again.”
Opal went still. “Did you see anything? Maybe a wild animal or something?”
“Nope. Like I said, it was just our house being stupid.”
Or a rabid wolf was prowling your yard. Along with a boat-sinking bobcat? Opal frowned. Now she really was jumping at shadows. Don’t get paranoid. Even Lily didn’t think much of it.
“It’s your turn.” Lily batted her eyes innocently. “Are you still thinking?”
Opal chewed on her fist. If she moved her rook there, she’d take Lily’s best piece. So why did she feel like a mouse eyeing the cheese in a trap? She glanced at the grim number of
her players already lying off the board. An aster was carved into its base of each figure. What is it with these flowers?
“Anytime now,” Lily said in a singsong voice.
Opal’s suspicion deepened. “Hold your horses.”
But she didn’t have a plan. How was Lily so good at this?
Kathryn Walsh’s voice flitted down the hall. “I know that some people think yellow is simply yellow, but I had such a time finding the appropriate shade for the exterior.”
Tour at an end, Kathryn had again halted her captives just outside Opal’s door.
“This one is called Buttercake. I had it shipped in from England, which was an ordeal, let me tell you …”
“Fascinating,” Uncle Kelvin muttered.
Kathryn missed the sarcasm. “I shouldn’t complain. When you buy a property on Overlook Row, neighborhood covenants require that you maintain the original color, as depicted in an 1857 painting currently on display in the Nantes’ home. Some of these buildings predate even that.”
“Well, you’ve done a wonderful job,” Aunt Grace said gamely.
“Such history.” Opal’s mother purred contentedly. “One early resident of this street—whose house, sadly, no longer exists—painted her home purple in tribute to a ward who died tragically.”
Opal’s head snapped toward the door, the chess game forgotten.
“Purple?” scoffed Grandma Heming, pursing her lips in disbelief. “I’m sure her neighbors were aghast! Where would one even get purple paint back in Civil War times?”
“The 1740s, actually,” Opal’s mother corrected. “This was an original landowner. Apparently she had some personal knowledge of chemicals and mixed the color herself.”
Cheers rolled up from the group watching football downstairs. Uncle Kelvin began edging toward the steps.
“Earth to Opal!” Lily huffed. “You can’t stall forever.”
“What? Oh, right.” Opal slid her rook and took Lily’s queen. Her hands were trembling. Her mother had to be talking about Yvette Dumont. My own mom! And she has no idea.
“Mistake.” Lily’s hand shot forward and advanced a pawn. Then she tipped over Opal’s king. “Checkmate. Sorry. Never take the bait.”
“Oops.” Opal was barely listening. “Shoot. Good job, Lily.”
Kathryn’s voice dropped an octave, as if sharing a secret. “This particular landowner was the lone survivor of a shipwreck. She’d been governess to a young girl who, tragically, drowned with all the others. Her body was never recovered.”
“Oh dear,” said Grandma Walsh.
“Why purple?” Uncle Kelvin asked, seemingly in spite of himself. “Was it the girl’s favorite?”
“Her ward was named after a flower,” Kathryn Walsh’s voice faded as the adults headed for the stairs. “I forget which one. The paint color was to match its blossom.”
Opal’s heart was pounding. I know a purple flower.
She glanced at the aster carved on the bottom of her now-toppled king.
“Guess I’ll go now.” Lily was pouting, perhaps annoyed Opal wasn’t heaping praise on her chess skills. “Thanks for playing with me.”
“Bye, Lily.” Opal barely registered the little girl’s exit. Her mind was on tilt.
Then her dad’s voice bellowed up once more. “Opal? Dessert is ready! Come down now or I’m eating it all myself.”
“Coming!”
Opal’s entire body felt electrified.
She knew the girl’s name.
Aster.
That flower was carved everywhere Torchbearer secrets were hidden.
It represented someone.
A girl whose body was never recovered.
A girl who died?
Or.
A girl trapped where she doesn’t belong?
15
NICO
Nico burst into the houseboat’s foyer.
Emma was right behind him as he fired through the curtain and into the showroom.
Opal and Tyler were already waiting, huddled beside Thing’s former pedestal. They seemed to be arguing—Opal had both hands on her hips, while Tyler was frowning, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“We found another Rift!” Nico blurted. “It wasn’t exploding with Takers or anything, but we found another Rift.”
Tyler squeezed his eyelids shut. “So your text said. I’m still hoping you don’t know what a mini-volcano looks like.”
Emma shook her head rapidly. “Oh, it’s a Rift all right. Inside a Torchbearer cave with our motto chiseled in stone and weird holes in the walls. I took pics of everything on our way out so you could see.” She waved her phone at them. “Guys, this means there are other Torchbearers!”
Nico held up a hand. “We think. We didn’t meet one, or anything.” He rubbed his face. “But even if Yellowstone really did have its own chapter of the Order, they’re gone, too. That cavern was as abandoned as the houseboat when we found it. No one is watching the Yellowstone Rift.”
“Y.R. on the photo inscription.” Opal smiled a little smugly. “I knew it.”
“How are we supposed to deal with a second tear in reality?” Tyler moaned. “We can’t even take care of our own!”
“Hold on!” Opal glanced at the curtain. “Where’s Logan? I have some news to share, too.”
“Who cares about Logan?” Nico spat. “We can handle this without him.”
“Handle this?” Tyler’s hands shot into the air. “How are we gonna handle this, exactly?”
The front door slammed. A moment later Logan jogged in, red-faced and puffing. “Sorry I’m late! My dad is livid I went to Yellowstone. There’s currently a Logan-shaped pillow man hiding beneath my bedspread.” He giggled nervously. “I’m so dead if he finds out.”
Nico pointedly put his back to Logan. “We need to come up with a plan to … I don’t know … find these other Torchbearers. If they exist.”
Tyler blinked at him. “Nico, how in the world are we going to do that?”
A loud thump echoed across the room, causing everyone to jump. All eyes slid to Opal. Did she just stamp her foot?
“I. Have. News.” Her intensity cowed everyone to silence. “Now that Logan is here, I want you all to listen to me.” She paused for a long beat, then continued in a rush. “I’ve decoded Thing’s message.”
Nico licked his lips. “For real?”
Opal nodded seriously. “My mom, of all people, said something that helped me finally put it together. And if I’m right about this, well …” She shifted uncomfortably. “We have a decision to make.”
“A decision about what?” Emma whispered.
Opal waved off the question. “Let me start at the start. I … I think I know who Thing is referring to in his letter.” She took a deep breath, then walked them through her most recent discoveries. Flowers sketched in the old notebook. A shipwreck named the Dauphin. Purple house paint on Overlook Row. “Yvette Dumont was a governess before settling in Timbers, and her charge drowned at sea. But we know that storm was actually caused by the Rift.”
Nico nodded automatically, but he didn’t understand putting this history ahead of what they’d discovered at Yellowstone. “That’s great work, Opal. For real. But I don’t see how it applies right now.”
“Then pay attention!” Opal snapped, tension rising in her voice. “Thing sent us a message-in-a-bottle that said someone was there—on its world—who didn’t belong. Then a game piece appeared in the Darkdeep—a wooden queen that matches the chess set we got from Thing, which is the only item from Earth ever to cross the Void both ways. A chess set with an aster carved onto each piece and was probably commissioned for a young girl.”
Logan scratched his cheek. “So … the girl who died in the wreck. Her name was Aster.”
“And this Dumont lady painted her house purple as a tribute.” Tyler shook his head. “Man, that’s sad.”
“Or is it?”
Everyone stared at Opal.
She made hand-wiping gestures i
n the air. “What I mean is—do we really know that Aster died?”
Shocked silence.
Opal dug into her pocket. Held up the wooden queen. “I checked this again, just to be safe. Take a look.”
She flipped the figurine over in her hand to reveal its base. Everyone crowded close. Nico squinted, but saw nothing. Then Opal shifted the piece and the light struck it at a different angle. He spotted the faint outline of a flower etched into the strange wood. “Wow. Pretty faded, but it’s there. Good job, Opal.”
“Thanks.” Opal blew out her lips. “Missing it the first time wasn’t stupendous, but whatever. I saw the aster eventually.”
“Okay,” Tyler said slowly. “So this confirms that the queen from the Darkdeep is supposed to match our chess set. Which means it probably came from Thing, since that’s where we got the game in the first place. But what does that tell us? Why would Thing bother to carve a fake queen and send it through the Rift?”
Nico’s eyes popped. His heart began to pound. His eyes met Opal’s.
“You … you think Aster is with Thing. On its planet, or whatever?”
Opal nodded firmly. “It all fits. She’s the ‘someone’ Thing is referring to. The flower on the wooden queen seals it. The chess set must’ve belonged to her originally, and Thing sent us a new piece with her symbol on it. The meaning is obvious. Aster is alive and with Thing!”
Tyler’s forehead scrunched in disbelief. “Why wouldn’t Thing just say that to us? Why all the subterfuge?”
Opal shrugged in honest bafflement. “I don’t know, Ty. Thing obviously didn’t want to write her name down. Maybe Thing doesn’t even know it, or maybe it needed us to figure out the answer for some reason. Which we did!”
Nico exhaled slowly. “Okay. So Aster goes down with the Dauphin, except somehow she doesn’t drown. Instead she gets … I don’t know, sucked through the Rift and … and ends up on another world.” His gaze met Opal’s again. “But that was two hundred and fifty years ago. Even if Aster survived all that, she’d still have died before the American Revolution.”
“We don’t know that.”
Logan gave Opal a look. “Hah?”
She threw her arms out wide. “Thing’s world is in another dimension. We have no idea how time works there! And think about it—why would Thing send us clues about a missing girl just to later tell us she passed away centuries ago? That doesn’t make sense.”
