by Anya Allyn
She rises to her feet, helping me stand. “We had to get close enough for Molly to take aim at the ranger. She shot him in the leg. You made it to the other side just before we did. Molly went to help a woman and her kids and I followed you and Frances. ”
My head still swims—there’s a whumping sound in my brain like helicopter blades. I can guess that Cassie got the asthma meds from the Batistes’ house—Nabaasa left some there back when we were taking the girls to the museum.
Frances attempts to walk, but hops instead—her face screwing up in pain. Cassie scoops the little girl up and we run, not knowing whether we’re about to blindly run into a trap set by the rangers. The rangers rarely wait it out when it comes to a few straggling humans. But I’m not just serpent fodder to them—I’m the one who set hundreds of humans free.
Cassie’s whispered words wash through my brain. Some part of me feels, free—released, even though I’ve never been less free in my life. And I want to live, more than I’ve ever wanted to live before.
23. EYES OF INFINITY
~CASSIE~
The guards trained rifles on us as we walked into the museum. Nabaasa rushed forward with a cry and took Frances from my arms.
“Bloody hell,” Ethan exploded. “Put your guns away. She just saved the lives of Frances and myself. She’s on our side.”
The guards held their position.
“Where’s Molly?” I breathed.
“The red-haired one made it back,” said Mr. Calhoun. “And she brought more mouths to feed with her.”
“Let them through,” ordered Nabaasa. “They have injuries that need attending to.”
She took us through to the meeting room with the shark circling in the aquarium overhead.
Nabaasa gently placed Frances on a chair and examined her leg. “There’s no way of x-raying this leg, but I don’t think it’s broken. There could be a nasty fracture though.” She gave Frances a reassuring smile. “No walking on this for a while, but you’ll be good as new in no time.”
Molly stepped in holding a small child, together with a woman who cradled a baby in a sling. The woman eyed Ethan with wet, glistening eyes, mouthing a silent thank you. Exhaling slowly, Ethan nodded back.
Molly gasped at the sight of Frances, holding her hand over her mouth. She took small steps toward Frances, as though her legs had grown weak, and sat beside her.
Frances gazed up solemnly. “I know who you are,” she said. “You’re not my Missy, but you’re still Molly.”
Molly blinked back tears, her eyes bright. “Yes, I’m still Molly.” She hugged the little girl. The small blonde girl sitting on Molly’s lap shyly touched Frances on the shoulder. She couldn’t be older than two.
“You found Frances.” Sophronia smiled at Ethan. “You did good.”
Ethan leaned his head back as he sat on a chair, grinning before breathing deeply on the oxygen tank mask that Nabaasa gave him.
Frances watched as Nabaasa set about bandaging her leg. “Calliope came and hid us from the bad people,” she told her.
I smiled at Frances’ use of the name, Calliope. She hadn’t known me as anything but Calliope.
We all rested while others from the museum brought us cups of lukewarm tea. Heating water to boiling point apparently took too much from the Museum’s energy sources. Afterwards, Sophronia took Molly and me down to the basement. The girls were lying asleep in their beds, oblivious to the serpents and rangers and the snowstorms that raged outside. Molly quietly gazed at her double, keeping her thoughts to herself.
Returning upstairs, we talked together about the dollhouse days, about those long terrifying hours. Molly and I gave Jessamine’s letter to Sophronia. We couldn’t take it back to the castle.
Ethan stepped up to me, his eyes filling with pain as he studied my face.
Sophronia’s long dark eyelashes settled downward. “Cassie,” she said softly, “I know Ethan has some things to tell you.”
I frowned at Ethan. “What do you have to tell me?”
“Come with me,” he said quietly. Taking my hand, he led me through the wide open spaces and levels of the museum.
We passed glimpses of shining white beyond the frosted windows, views of the twisting tunnels of serpent skin and the distant ghosts of skyscrapers on what used to be the islands. I didn’t want to see any of it right now. Everything I ever knew was buried under that. The landscape was just a sterile tomb.
He stopped in a quiet place in a corridor, and bowed his head.
“Whatever it is, just say it,” I begged.
He inhaled a deep breath, and told me. He told me about the death of my parents on the other world… and on this one….
As I watched snowflakes falling past a distant window, a sword of ice plunged and twisted through me. He held me as bottomless holes opened up in my mind—arctic winds blowing from them and freezing everything in their path.
24. THE SPIN OF ATOMS
Brushing my hair back from my face, Ethan’s hands moved to my shoulders. “I have something to show you. Will you come with me?”
Numbly, I nodded.
We kept walking, all the way into the huge globe-shaped building of the planetarium.
He fiddled with the switches in a nearby panel. The entire universe wheeled high overhead—the top half of the planetarium displaying the stars and constellations and purplish-pink nebulae.
Taking me over to the first row of seating, he sat me down. He reached and pushed a lever to tilt my chair back. Like this, I could see nothing but the stars and galaxies—and all their infinite secrets and possibilities. No frozen world, no castle walls.
My chest released a lungful of air.
Sitting beside me, Ethan tilted his own chair back.
“When we travel through the shadow and the refractions, we bypass all of this,” he said. “But look... all of this is out there. And we’re made of the same stuff as the stars. No one can take that from us. And no one can truly die. Our atoms are forever part of the universe.”
I gazed upwards as my tears blurred the universe.
“What if,” he said quietly, “what if our universe is like an atom with all the planets and stars spinning inside? And what if there are billions of atoms, all with universes inside them? And what if…the atoms make up one body—like the almost infinite atoms that make up a human body?”
“And what would that body be? God?”
One side of his mouth arced into a small grin. “I don’t know....”
Silence fell between us—but not an awkward silence. It was the silence of things too vast to grasp—the beauty of it all too terrifying to gaze upon.
“Once I dreamed of you and me,” I said softly, “lying on a beach at night watching the sky. I had lots of dreams of you, but that one was my favorite. I never thought I’d be admitting my dreams to you. But it’s like... it’s like I’ve already lived this moment of time.”
“I think we dream of our lives on other earths. In our subconscious minds, maybe the other earths filter through.”
I turned my face to him. “Like déjà vu? I mean, like when you’re sure you’ve heard or seen something before....”
“Yeah. Just like that.” He touched my face, his eyes softening. “Did you really mean what you said.. out there on the ice?”
Nodding, my eyelids drifted downward. “Crazy that it takes until someone’s almost dead to realize what they really mean to you.” I raised my eyes to him, almost afraid to look. His pale brown eyes, his beautiful mouth and jawline, his strong body... were like an apparition. He couldn’t be here next to me. Almost everything and everyone real in my life had slipped from under me, and vanished like ghosts.
But he was here, real and solid. Heat warmed my temples as I realized I’d been staring at him far too intensely.
“Anyway,” I teased lightly, “that note you gave me on the dock, didn’t it say that everything I’ll ever say is written on a mirror? Or something like that. You said it was about me. Does that
mean you already know what I’m going to say?”
He stared upward, exhaling a long breath. “No, it doesn’t mean that. I wrote it a long time ago, not knowing what it meant. I’d been having dreams—always dreams. Of a girl, of mirrors... of an altar. I dreamed of a girl on the other side of darkness, on the other side of a mirror. I thought if I could get past the mirrors, I could know everything about her, hear everything she has to say. I know now that the mirrors look into other worlds. I didn’t know who the girl was—I could never see her clearly.” He paused. ”The first time I saw you, something changed inside me. Something broke apart. It was like I knew you. I know now… I did know you. I’ve known you a billion times over, in a billion worlds. I’ll know you until the end of time....”
Breath caught in my chest. “Back when I first met you... it was all so innocent. I fell in love... but I couldn’t figure out what I was going to do about that. It was like... my biggest problem. There’s something beautiful about that to me now—not knowing about the other earths and other lives. Just living and figuring things out, and everything’s so new. I’d give anything now, to go back....”
“No, don’t think like that.” His forehead creased. “Never look back. No matter what happens from this day on, don’t ever look back. Do you remember back in the dollhouse when I told you that time is circular? My Aboriginal ancestors knew it to be true. All things come again. And when you live your life the best way you know how, you change the outcome of your life on every mirror universe. Nothing is ever a waste. Hold onto that. Do you promise me?”
Swallowing, I nodded. His words wrapped around me, insulating me. My parents were gone. But in the bleakness and dark, he guided me, giving me some semblance of hope.
He touched my hair, letting a strand slip between his thumb and forefinger. “And always say what you feel. Don’t let moments pass by. Wish I’d known how you felt back then. It was impossible to see inside you, Cassie.”
I’d spent my life blocking things out, never understanding why—never knowing why I held my secret self so close that I’d let no one really see me. When my father told me about the baby he and Mom had lost, everything fell into place, and I finally knew why I’d had that tight ball always sitting in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “And sorry for myself. If I’d been a bit more open with you from the start, things might have gone differently.”
He gave a regretful sigh. “That was all such a mess. Once I was with Aisha, I thought, well that’s it. I was brought up to be loyal. Who you’re with is who you’re with. But I was kicking myself I didn’t just walk up to you and ask you out in the first place. I was just so used to girls making it obvious when they liked me. But you just seemed so distant. I won’t explain how Aisha and I got together, but I did like her—I really did. Just nothing close to how I feel about you. I could never give her all of me, and I know she sensed that.”
I sucked my mouth in. “I know what happened between you and Aisha. She told me.”
“She did?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“Yeah. She feels bad about it.”
“Everyone does things they’re not proud of. Me included. I made the wrong choice that time with her, too. So I can’t hold it against her.”
“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. Like when I kissed you in the forest.”
With a regretful smile, he played with a lock of my hair. “You kissed me and I couldn’t even feel it—how crazy is that? I was just numb at that time. My mind was set on Granddad—and finding Aisha to clear his name.” His eyes pained at the mention of his grandfather.
“Have you seen him—your granddad?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been back to the cottage twice, but he’s not there. I couldn’t find him and I don’t know what happened to him.”
I moved my head onto his shoulder. The weight of loss hung on me—of Ethan’s grandfather, of my parents, of everyone who had disappeared under that blanket of white.
“Henry's still there,” Ethan told me. “The one who's just a bumbling human and not a ghost. He's still somehow surviving there in the house. I went there once, wanting to beat his head in, make him pay for everything he did. But when I saw him, I couldn’t do it. He’s gone bat-crazy—just wandering around aimlessly and quoting his poetry to the trees.” He exhaled a wry breath. “I know now why he used to change the words of those Shakespeare plays.”
Gazing at him, I shrugged. “Because he couldn’t remember the words?”
“Nah, he did it to justify what he was doing to the girls. He threw the words destiny and fate in there a lot—trying to tell himself it was all meant to happen. I kick myself now for not figuring it out back when we heard him quoting Shakespeare in the forest—the guy was guilty as hell. And it was him who carved that line from Shakespeare into the Wheel of Death.”
“Don’t be hard on yourself. I wouldn’t have even known that was Shakespeare.”
“Yeah, but I had no excuse. Back when Granddad used to be in the local theater—all they did was Shakespeare, and I was at every performance, helping to do the curtains. When Henry put the line, Swallowed its children and all destiny into his King Lear quotes, I should have twigged. He was trying to absolve himself of wrongdoing. I know now—he was trying to tell himself that it was destiny that put the girls into the dollhouse—not himself. Even though he wasn't the one orchestrating the whole thing, he still went along with it all in the hope he was going to be rewarded with the inheritance.”
I chewed my lip. “Do you believe in destiny? Is all of this supposed to happen?”
“No.” His answer came quickly. “Because then that means Henry couldn’t change what was happening to us. It means any horror we inflict on others was meant to be. I can’t hold with that.”
“You know... I used to watch those old movies with Mom, where the couple were soul mates, like they were destined to be together. And it somehow seemed like a thing that could be true. That destiny was true. But it can’t be, can it? When you meet someone and you feel like you’ve always known them, maybe it’s just because you’ve known them on another earth....”
“No, it’s not destiny,” he agreed. “It’s more intricate than that. Something humans can’t even grasp.” He studied my face, his eyes growing serious. “All I know is you’re here with me, and that’s enough.” His voice broke. “You haunt my every dream, Cassie. Every day here, I fight so that everyone here can survive—and when I don’t think we can last another day, I think of you, and I keep going. I keep fighting....”
Ethan half-sat, twisting his body to place his hands on either side of me on the chair. The scent and closeness of him sent waves coursing along my spine.
His dark gaze bled everything from me—like a tide. Like he was the moon and I the ocean. He was so different to Zach. With Zach, I used to feel warm and safe, even though it ended up being that was the last thing I was with him. But Ethan was always like something wild and without bounds. He could never compromise, or offer me safety—any more than a forest or a night could become other than what they were.
He brought his face close and his mouth touched mine. All his unspoken words and unasked questions melted into a searching kiss. Everything within me responded, blood rushing through every network of veins in my body. I wanted him—all of him. With a soft murmur, he kissed my temple, his heart beating against mine like some kind of ancient drum—a drumbeat that had always been there in the back of my mind.
He moved his head, breathing hard as he gazed at me. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” His voice was crushed, anguished and husky all at once. In his eyes moved universes. In his eyes was the vulnerability of a human being who knew he risked losing everything at any moment.
Were we abandoned by God and time as the Order had told me—wandering stars in the darkness between universes, never to find home ever again? I trembled as he bent his forehead to my chest. He was lost and torn like me. Monsters more terrifying than those out
there in the bay roamed through my head, more terrifying than anything I could see with my eyes.
I sensed the hurt in him when he saw the fear in me. And I knew he’d give anything to take that fear away.
I reached to hold his face. In his eyes was my home. That was the only thing I was sure of.
Leaning on an elbow, I kissed him back, melting into him—and the atoms that were him and the atoms that were me spun around each other. We held each other as minutes ticked on, neither of us wanting to move from this point in time.
My gaze drifted to the shadow that crept toward me over the display of stars above, and my chest sank.
“I have to go,” I said softly. “It's here. My time is gone.”
The muscles in his throat and jaw tightened as we broke apart. Exhaling a short, sharp breath, he dug around in his jacket pocket. “I have something for you.”
He handed me a small wooden box, inlaid with darkened silver. I opened it to find a painted carving of a girl.
Ethan twisted a windup handle around. A sad, sweet song played—each note clear.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It isn’t much, but it’s all I can give you. I found it hidden away in a hollow tree in the woods outside the castle. It’s old and been there a long time. Whoever hid it was keeping secrets from the castle, and I liked that.” He smiled into my eyes. “Happy birthday.”
I stared back, shocked. “Birthday?”
“You’re seventeen today.”
Time no longer had meaning. My sixteenth birthday had slipped by in a haze in the months after the dollhouse escape. And my days now had fallen into a void.
I leaned against Ethan, shaking as his arms came tightly around me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
25. THE BETHROTHALS
The sun outside my window was a copper coin on the horizon, spinning heads and tails. Roses bloomed thick and red along the galerie, ready to drip their blood-laden petals on any who ventured beneath them.
