The piece was not Q’s best work, but he did not want to keep the brush in his hand any longer than he had to. He had not forgotten Astrid’s warning about dark thoughts. He shaded a corner of the hatch and flung the paintbrush to the carpet. Rot devoured it. “I don’t know if this will even work.”
“If you can paint a star over thin air, you can paint us an exit,” Raya said.
“I hope you’re right.” Q drew a deep breath and pulled the painting’s handle. It slid open, revealing a wall of water suspended above his head.
Raya clutched his arm. “I see the lanterns.”
Circles of light shimmered through the depths of the lagoon. Q poked at the water. It rippled around his finger, making the lanterns dance. “I’ll boost you up.” He laced his fingers to form a step. “Hurry.”
They climbed out of the lagoon, gasping for breath. Q collapsed on his back, exhaustion dulling the smell of rot.
Raya crawled to her bag and pulled out the jar of flares Rasmus had given her. She shook it and twisted its lid open. A swarm of lights shot out of the jar like fireworks. “I hope Rasmus sees that.” Rayashivered in her wet clothes. “We should”—her teeth chattered—“search the rest of the car while waiting for him.”
Q grabbed his coat from the grass and handed it to her. “Here.”
“But—” Her lips trembled.
“We’re not going to be able to search for anything if you go into hypothermia.”
“Thank you.” Raya peeled her wet coat off and slipped Q’s on.
Raya’s warmth radiated through their tether, returning color and heat to Q’s lips and cheeks, and he found he’d never needed a coat less. He scanned the garden. Lightning clustered beyond the halo of the reflection pool’s lanterns, illuminating a double-eave pavilion. “I think I know where the stowaway is.”
A torrent broke through the clouds, hiding the pavilion’s tiled roof behind sheets of rain.
A figure, veiled by darkness, stood at the far end of the pavilion, its back toward Raya and Q. Black, spidery vines extended from its body and slithered over the pavilion’s stone floor like snakes. Whatever they touched decayed. Q crept up the pavilion’s steps. Each breath he took tasted rancid, a sour mix of spoiled sorrow and dust. Lightning ripped through the sky and chased the shadows from a humanlike form covered in tiny black insect wings. The figure turned, then broke apart, scattering into multiple swarms.
A blur of wings flew past Raya and Q, catching on their hair, ears, and clothes. Raya squeezed her lids shut to keep them from getting into her eyes. She and Q huddled, taking refuge in each other’s arms.
The hum of wings faded. Q peeked over Raya’s head. “I think they’re gone.”
Raya looked up from his chest. “What were those things? They looked like moths.”
“I know moths.” Q tugged his collar, exposing the inked reminder on his skin. “Those things may look like moths, but they’re not. They’re monsters.”
An eclipse of moths swept back into the pavilion, swirling into the shape of a man as tall as Q. It took a step forward and extended a hand toward him, grazing his jaw with fluttering black wings.
Q froze.
The stowaway withdrew its hand and cupped Raya’s face, stroking what might pass for a thumb over her cheek. Raya flinched. The stowaway screeched. Black vines snaked from its body and burrowed into the floor. The pavilion shuddered. Fissures raced up columns and shattered the ceiling. Roof tiles tumbled over them.
Q grabbed Raya’s hand and sprinted to the exit, leaping over cracks. They jumped from the pavilion’s steps onto the rain-soaked ground. The pavilion crumbled behind them. They stared at the rubble, holding their breath. Moths burst from the debris.
“Let’s get out of here.” Q backed away from the ruins. “The train’s in your pocket.”
Raya pulled the crystal train out and squinted through the rain. “I can’t see the map.”
Q strained to see the silver tracks in the storm. “Can you hear the doors?”
Raya closed her eyes.
Q glanced back. The moths re-formed into a man’s shape. “Anything?”
Raya shook her head, keeping her eyes shut. “Wait.” She turned slightly to the left. Her eyes flew open. “Over there. A track. But I don’t know where it leads. I can barely hear the song over the rain.”
The stowaway made its way toward Raya and Q, mimicking the motions of walking without its feet touching the ground. Its screech curdled the air.
“It doesn’t matter,” Q said.
