Pausing outside, I hear Grandmère speak. “With Emma’s fragile state, we all need to be here to help her focus on training. We can’t risk her having a breakdown this close to the Tether. It could end her.”
“We’ll stay,” my father says. “Meantime, let’s give her some space tonight.”
My mother hums her agreement.
Thank God. My shoulders relax as relief washes over me. I head upstairs and lock myself in my room, the ornate wooden door hiding me from everyone I hurt.
I lie on my bed. Moonlight filters through the lace curtains, casting patterns on the walls and giving my bedroom an otherworldly glow. I push myself up and pace, nervous about my plans for tonight. I glance around,taking in my room. The turquoise velvet chaise longue adorned with gold tassels, a chair upholstered in pearls. All this luxury and no peace. No joy.
The fireplace crackles; its ever-changing flames make different shades of warm blue light dance on the white grand piano that plays itself, filling my room with an eerie melody.
I try to still the fear and excitement racing through me as I grip the phone. After three rings, my best friend and I are chatting away.
“Are you sure you can trust him?” Ariella asks, unaware of the blood feud and time travel involved in my plan but still not loving me running away to see some boy I barely know. I bet she’s crinkling her thin upturned nose at the idea like she smells something that stinks.
“No, that’s why I want you to tell my family and get help if I’m not back in three days.”
“I don’t know, Em,” she groans. “Going alone isn’t smart,” she warns. “Don’t you read the newspapers? You could get kidnapped or murdered or something. I should go with you.”
The clock in her room ticks loudly as she sighs, and I laugh. “So we could both be captured?” I can almost see her pouting lips. No, Ariella can’t go into the past with me. She can’t know I can travel through time. Gran says it’s too dangerous for anyone outside of the family to know we have that ability. And I trust Ariella, but that kind of knowledge might put her in harm’s way. I flop down on the bed, exhausted. “I was fine when I met him before,” I tell her. “I’ll be fine now.” If the bloodlust from the curse doesn’t bubble up and make us kill each other… “I left something there that I need to get back.”
“Nothing is important enough to take scary risks like sneaking out and leaving the city alone, Em.”
“It’s Grace’s necklace.”
She’s silent. She knows how much that necklace means to me, so she knows there is no talking me out of this.
“Promise me you’ll do what I ask,” I say.
She’s still quiet, probably playing with the gold ribbon she always wears in her blond hair and staring down at her shoes with scared blue eyes.
“Please, Ari!” I plead. “I’ll give you all the juicy details when I get back.”
“You better,” she replies solemnly. “And if you’re gone more than a day, you better call me or else I’m getting Demetri and we’re hunting Malcolm down. Burning his concert to the ground. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, relieved to have her support even from miles away. “No need to turn into an arsonist. I’ll be fine.”
We talk late into the night. My house is quiet when Ariella and I hang up the phone. My four-poster canopy bed with plush turquoise-and-orchid- colored curtains begs me to crawl under the covers and sleep, but my mind is too busy.
Instead I sit at my magical vanity table. My fingers brush over the crystal vase filled with fresh orchids that never wilt or need water. The mirror reflects various times and places. I think of Malcolm and see him sitting on a bench, looking handsome in a navy suit, his hands clasped together anxiously. He’s waiting for me at the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893. I sigh, glad to see him waiting.
He really does want to end this curse.
“I’m coming,” I whisper, determination surging inside me.
When everyone is sleep, I style my hair, change into something fitting for the time, and creep across the plush white star-shaped rug in the center of my room. With a deep breath, I step onto the balcony attached to my bedroom and try to calm my nerves. I tell myself that this is important, that I can use Malcolm as a tool to help me end the Tether. With my palms on the warm wrought iron railing, I look around, checking for people. The railing is flaking from time and weather, but it’s still solid and strong. Our courtyard is draped in the veil of moonlight, the fountain surrounded by lush tropical plants, creating a serene and enchanting scene. The sycamores and oaks reach high, nearly kissing the sapphire sky and glinting stars. The trees are in full bloom, their branches thick with pink and purple flowers as emerald leaves and branches flutter and bend, reaching out to touch the night around them. Like they want to be free of this place too.
A dark shadow moves at the other end of the house, snatching my focus. I squint. Something bright glints close, like eyes, shining in bright red. I inch back slowly, my heart thumping. For a crazy moment, I get scared someone will hear it and discover what I am up to.
I creep silently across the balcony and wince softly as I slam into the doorframe. I sneak back into my room, close the doors behind me, and glance out through the curtains. It’s Sheree, the bodyguard who beats me up during battle training. Her eyes glow red as she moves closer, her afro a halo above her beautiful dark face. She high-steps in a black minidress, her red fingernails wrapped tight around her gun, which glints in the silver moonlight. I pull myself deeper into the shadows as she clip-clops across the walkway beneath my balcony, then disappears to patrol another part of the house.
I sneak back onto the balcony, close my eyes, and recite a spell Grandmère taught me. I visualize a ladder, its rungs shimmering and made of pure stardust as it descends from the balcony. The wind kicks up, whipping skinny branches and emerald leaves. As I continue to chant, the wind whips harder, lifting my hair and shaking shutters on some of the windows. Even the balcony vibrates with energy.
“Please work,” I murmur, my heart pounding in anticipation.
I open my eyes. The ladder gleams before me, like it’s woven from threads of pure starlight. It leans against the balcony, welcoming me. I climb onto it, take a hesitant step, and joyfully discover that it supports my weight.
Here goes nothing,I think, gripping its steamy rungs and climbing down with a sense of determination. I look around for security guards and the Bentley I’d seen on the street. But the car isn’t there. It must be parked with the others now. When my shoe hits the ground, the ladder vanishes.
