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PANDORA

Page 21

by Rebecca Hamilton


  Though they probably shouldn’t have, his words sent spikes of doubt into my heart. He had taken him away from his work? Did he really mean that it was Merrin he had been taken away from? He had ruined his life? Hadn’t he sent him to me?

  “So, the only reason you want to go with me is so you can get revenge?” I asked, and tried not to let my face scrunch.

  He ran his hand through my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear. “I could forget about everything he did to me. I could let that all go, but if your mother is dead-Well, that’s my fault. And if she’s alive, if he has her, then that’s on me too.”

  I opened my mouth, about to tell him that he was wrong, that it wasn’t his fault, but he placed his index finger over my mouth to silence me.

  His fingers . . . on my lips . . .

  “And if he did anything to you-If that son of a bitch so much as laid a finger on you and I wasn’t there to stop it-“He took a deep breath as if to compose himself. Leaning in closer he asked, “Do you have any idea what you mean to me, Cresta Karr?”

  I leaned in to meet him. “I’m starting to,” I said just as our lips met. The kiss was gorgeous. So much so, that it almost allowed me to forget the horrible circumstances that led to it. I wrapped my arms around him, exploring his arms, his shoulders, the arch and small of his back. He was warm, and I felt his body tense and rise beneath my touch. His lips took mine in hungrily, panting as he brushed my flushed cheeks with his thumbs.

  I wanted to stay there, to live there in the soft blue glow of the aquarium and the heat of Owen’s touch, but there were other things going on, reasons why something like this(even though it might be mind-blowingly awesome) had to wait.

  “Owen,” I huffed, reluctantly pulling my lips away from his. “We can’t. There’s no time.”

  He looked at him, his blue eyes gleaming devilishly. “It’s okay. I’ll be quick.” His arms pulled at me again, lifting me into the air and throwing me against the Roma display. My back pressed against the cool glass. Owen’s mouth searched mine before it traveled to my cheek, then my neck, and then the arch of my collar bone. I wanted to move, to push him away. We had to go. We had to get out of here before someone saw me and the whole thing was ruined. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t get my body to cooperate. It was his now. It belonged to his lips, to his eyes, to his heart, beating so hard that I could see it under his shirt and vest.

  I tossed my head back, letting it rest against the cold glass. As soon as I touched the glass, something in me began to shift. I could feel the water behind me, actually feel it, as it twisted and turned. I tore away from Owen’s grasp, slinked to the floor, and turned to look. The water had clouded. What was once clear, blue, and still, was now a dark gray and spun around like a cyclone. When it settled, the water wasn’t empty anymore. Large fish that I had never seen before swam around. Some of them were scaly. Some were transparent. Some were so large that they took up the entire space and then some.

  How did they even fit them in there?

  “It’s leering glass,” Owen said, before I had a chance to voice how stunned I was. “It lets you see . . . everything.”

  He walked closer and put his hand on the glass, tracing the space where something that looked like a prehistoric sea horse swam. “You know that everything holds a certain amount of physic energy, that anything can retain memories.”

  “That’s how Dahlia found out everything that went on in Crestview,” I added, still staring at the glass. The image shifted. The Stone Age sea creatures dissipated, replaced by a desert scene. A huge battle was going on. Burly men in gold plated armor were fighting equally burly men in black armor. They drove spears into each other and rode horses over the broken bodies of their brothers. Except, I wasn’t watching it from a direct angle like the sea horse. I was rushing down toward it, falling on them like raindrops.

  “Right,” Owen answered. “Water retains more memories than anything. You see these plaques?” He motioned toward the Roma sign. “Well, they’re meant to tell you where the water came from and, as such, give you an idea of what you gleam from it. But they’re useless, given that water is recycled so much. It seeps into the ground and ascends into the sky. Every drop of water is this place has probably been over every inch of this world. There’s no telling what sort of things it could show you. Some of it probably goes back to the dawn of time.”

  “Can you pick what you want to see?” I asked, putting my hand beside his on the glass.

  “You have to be trained for that, and lately I’ve been out of practice,” he winced.

  “Because of the Raven?” I asked.

  “I used to go to the aquariums at the Hourglass with my father,” he said, ignoring my question. “I loved it. I used to stay there for hours, just touching all the different waters and travelling through time.” He ran his hand up his arm, brushing where the bands had been placed. “That was when I still had my powers though.”

  “We’re gonna get your powers back,” I grabbed his hand.

  “I don’t care about my powers,” he turned to me. “Let’s go get your mom back.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” a voice sounded from across the room. Startled, I pulled away from Owen, ready to run. Casper came out of the doorway though, his arms folded. How long had he been there? Had he seen . . . the whole thing?

  “Casper, how did you know I was gonna be here?”

  “I got a letter.” He held up a white slip, much like the ones I had been receiving. “It said to come here. I thought you sent it.” He winced and ran his hand through his hair. “Well, I hoped you sent it.”

  I ran to him and hugged him tightly. “Missed you,” I whispered into his ear.

  “I promised to keep you safe,” he said with a break in his voice.

  “I’m fine. I’m okay,” I assured him.

  “Let’s get out of here, Cress. We don’t belong here. Let’s just go.”

  “I thought you like it here. I thought you said it was cool,” I gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and pulled away. The blue lights made Casper’s red hair look purple, and made the freckles dotting his face resemble dark smudges. Still, he was a sight for sore eyes.

  “Yeah, I sorta turned in my Breakers fan club membership card when they hauled you off like a common crook,” he huffed and stared past me at Owen. Wait, was he counting Owen among their numbers too? Did he blame Owen?

  “Cass,Allister Leeman has my mom,” I said.

  “I know you want to believe that Cresta, but you didn’t see the house. You didn’t see what was left of it. Your mom didn’t make it out of there. That sick bastard is just trying to lure you to him.” His voice was soft, and I could tell that losing my mom had hurt him too.

  “With all due respect, Casper, Cresta’s mother was Breaker. You have no idea what we’re capable of surviving,” Owen walked toward us.

  “I wasn’t talking to you, Owen. If that is your real name,” Casper hissed. Okay, so that answered the question of how Casper felt about Owen. “Just go back to your little cult, and let us go.”

  “Go where?” Owen balked. Even if you’re right, and Julie Karr is dead, you wouldn’t make it half a out there. Until sunrise on the solstice, Cresta is, for all intents and purposes, the Bloodmoon. If you run, they will come find you. If you’re not going to go after Cresta’s mom, then the best thing for her to do is go back into her room until after the solstice. At least then, they’ll know she isn’t the Bloodmoon.”

  “And what if they don’t?” Casper’s hands balled into fists. “What if that doesn’t convince them? What if they pull some other prophecy out of their asses? They could keep Cresta here forever.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” Owen answered.

  “Oh yeah, cause you’re so trustworthy.”

  “Cass, I do!” I answered. “I trust him.”

  “Why Cresta?” His face scrunched, as though my words had hurt him. “Look, I know you’ve got the hots for him or whatever, but he’s just like the rest
of them. All he’s ever done is lie to us.”

  “That wasn’t his fault,” I shook my head. “I mean-Yeah, it was his fault, but he thought he was doing it for my own good.”

  Casper gritted his teeth. “And what happens when he thinks killing you is for your own good?”

  “You son of a bitch!” Owen rushed toward him. I jumped between them. I was trying to sneak away without being seen. The last thing I needed was a brawl in the world’s weirdest aquarium. “You don’t know anything about me,” Owen yelled. “You don’t know my life!”

  “You don’t have a life,” Casper sniped. “You people live in a holding cell. You let other people tell you what to do so you don’t have to make your own decisions. You lie to people and tell yourselves that you’re heroes. You blame people for things you say they’re going to do. What about all the crap that you people do? You make me sick.”

  This was a total one eighty from the Casper I had left when they locked me in that room. Gone was the freewheeling, fun loving guy who thought this whole thing was an adventure. He wanted us gone, and he wanted us gone now. But he had forgotten about one thing.

  “Casper, I’m a Breaker too.”

  “You are not,” he said, his voice calming. “You’re you. You’re Cresta, and you’re amazing. Don’t you see Cress? They don’t care about us. They look at us and see a Neanderthal and a Bloodmoon; the monkey and the antichrist. That’s all we’re ever gonna be to them.”

  “That’s not true,” Owen’s voice had softened to. “I care about her. I care about you too. Believe it or not, you guys were my friends, probably the only real friends I’ve ever had. I know I lied to you guys, and I know that I’m responsible for what happened back in Crestview, but I wanna make it right.”

  “Forgive me if I decide not to believe a damn word that comes out of your mouth,” Casper said.

  I sighed. We didn’t have time for this. I turned to him, and put on my best ‘this means business’ face. “Casper, this is happening. Whether you like it or not, I am going to save my mother.”

  “He doesn’t have your mother,” Casper repeated.

  “He said there was a way to prove it,” I remembered. “He said that if I lit a candle-“

  “Of course!” Owen clapped his hands together. “The quickest way for Breakers to communicate is through flame. Why didn’t I think of that? If we can get the right kind of candle and something of your mom’s to focus our search, we should be able to feel her, might even be able to see her.”

  The idea of seeing my mom again filled with dueling emotions. I desperately wanted her to be alive and would have given anything to be able to look into her eyes again, but if she was alive, it meant she was being tortured by Allister Leeman, and I wasn’t sure I could deal with the sight of that.

  I shook my head. “Can you do it?” I asked. That was the only thing that mattered.

  “No,” he answered, and rubbed at the band that bound his powers. “Not like this.”

  “What about me,” desperation colored my voice. “Can I do it?”

  “You have to be trained Cresta. It’s a delicate process. It takes years for a Breaker to learn it.”

  That was it then. I would have to fly blind; go after my mom, proof or not.

  “But there is someone who could,” Owen answered. “There’s one other person I trust enough to do it.”

  “What?” I asked, but my eyes narrowed when I realized who he was talking about.

  No. Not her. Anybody but her.

  Chapter 16

  In Plain Sight

  Ten minutes later, Casper and I were hiding in the janitorial closet. It was about ten feet wide and barely had room for the mops, rakes, and buckets that had been stuffed into it, let alone the two of us. Owen had drawn ovals on the inside of the door in red marker; anchors that he said should hide us from anybody that might come in looking for cleaning supplies.

  When Owen came back, Merrin behind him, I grimaced. Of all the people I didn’t want to know about this, Merrin was definitely at the top of that list. But Casper was right. There was a very good chance Allister Leeman didn’t have my mother and, if that was the case and he was just trying to get me out into the open, the whole candle thing could really shed some light on it. No pun intended. But with Owen effectively neutered and me being a Breaker newbie, we’d have to outsource. Too bad the only person Owen trusted enough for the job was his seemingly perfect and certainly beautiful (ex?) fiancÉ.

  I could tell from the look on Merrin’s infuriatingly perfect symmetrical that Owen had already filled her in on what was going on. Her eyes were tightened in a way that told me she thought I was a king sized nuisance. Though they were also a touch softer than I remembered, so maybe she understood at least a little of why I was doing this.

  “I have no idea why we’re doing this,” she sighed.

  There goes that theory.

  She glared at me, then at Owen. “You realize the position this puts me in with the Masons. They trusted me Owen, and when we get found out-“

  “We won’t get found out,” Owen turned, revealing a blue backpack slung over one shoulder. He unzipped it and placed its contents on the floor in front of us; a stumpy red candle, a box of matches, and a rounded hand mirror. The room filled with the smell of apples and cinnamon.

  “Is that Glade?” I asked, pointing to the candle.

  “Short notice,” he explained.

  “Of course we’re going to get found out,” Merrin said, rolling her eyes at me. “Do you think they’re going to notice we’re gone and just assume we went out for a picnic?”

  We? I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “She’s coming?” I asked, looking at Owen.

  “She can speak for herself,” Merrin answered with enough venom in her voice to poison a horse. “And yes. I’ve lost Owen once already. I’m not doing it again. Unless, of course, you’d rather I stay put and, when Echo and Dahlia start asking questions, I can point them in your direction.”

  “That’s enough,” Owen said, striking a match and lighting the candle’s wick. “We don’t know what we’re going to be dealing with out there, Cresta. Having a Breaker who isn’t and knows what she’s doing can only help us.”

  “Unless she rats us out anyway,” Casper said, his arms folded, his voice flippant.

  “Oh good, a Neanderthal; what every good suicide mission needs,” Merrin spat.

  “Stop it!” Owen said, standing to meet her. “These are my friends, both of them. If you want to be part of this, you have to respect that.”

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” she said, and ran her fingers lightly across his cheek. He flinched, but just a little.

  “Just deal with the candle, okay,” he blinked.

  “I need a token” she said, crouching cross legged in front of the lit candle. “A picture, a personal item; just something to tie me into Ash, hope me focus on who I’m looking for. Normally a relative would do the trick, but since there isn’t actually any blood ties between you and your mother-“

  “I have something,” I cut her off. I did not need to hear the rest of that sentence. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the old photo of Echo and my mom; the first proof I ever got that what Echo was saying was the truth. With a bit of hesitance, I handed it over to her. Merrin held it over the candle, letting the flame lick up it. As the fire consumed the picture, my heart stung. It didn’t make much sense. Before a couple of weeks ago, I had never seen that picture. But it was the only one I had of my mother, maybe the only one I would ever have. If this didn’t work out, if I never got to see my mother again, that picture would have been the only piece of her I’d have left. I didn’t even have her features. That picture would have been the only thing that reminded me of what she looked like, that kept her face fresh in my mind.

  And now it was gone.

  Mourn the flicker.

  The burning picture produced a cloud of smoke. That smoke gathered in the air and rushed down to the hand mi
rror below, rendering it white and clouded.

  A long second passed, and then another.

  “The candle makes the connection. If your mother was alive, we would be able to see her in the mirror. I’m sorry,” Merrin said and, for a second, actually sounded as though she was sorry.

  “Maybe you didn’t do it right,” I said, as she stood and flattened her pants with the palms of her hands.

  “I’m quite capable. I assure you. There’s nothing in the mirror. That means-“

  Look!” Casper shouted.

  The white sheen on the mirror had transformed. It looked like a room now, but not the one we were in. Dark like this one, but where the janitorial closet was brown and filled with cleaning supplies, the room of the mirror was metal and completely empty aside from one glaring exception; my mother. She was sitting on the floor. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her face was cut and bruised. Her hair was missing in chunks, and what was left of it stuck out in disheveled waves. Her eyes were rimmed in red, as thought she had been crying, but more than that, they looked tired. In fact, her whole body looked limp with exhaustion, as though somebody had put the long end of a vacuum inside of her and sucked everything out.

  A murmur, horrified and pathetic, escaped my lips. There had been a piece of me who thought I should be angry with my mother. She lied to me my entire life. She drugged me to keep the truth of who I was a secret. She, in fact, wasn’t even my mother, not biologically. But looking at her now, watching the way her empty eyes fixated forward, none of that mattered. Everything in me wanted to reach through that mirror and pull her back here, back to me, back to safety. That wasn’t possible though, and I had never felt more impotent in my entire life.

  A man came walking into view, blocking my mother for a split second and then moving to kneel beside her. Barely older looking than us, he had dark wavy hair. His skin was bronze and his eyes were black. He was-Well, he was cute, actually. A black tattoo stretched across the soft skin of his neck. Unlike Owen’s, I could actually make his out. It was a raven in midflight, wings spread wide.

 

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