“I have never in my life been described as tender,” Colton agreed mildly, and checked the time on his wristwatch.
There followed a terrible beat of silence. The ribs expanded and then contracted in a disconsolate sigh.
“The girl stays,” said the Not-Thomas. “She belongs to me.”
A tremor shook the void. Gobs of saliva shook loose, falling around them like rain. The floor rippled underfoot. In front of Vivienne, the Not-Thomas began to shake apart.
“What’s happening?” she demanded. “What is this?”
“There’s a disturbance at the house,” said the Charybdis. It was facing away from her, looking out into the dark at something she couldn’t see. The shape of Thomas flickered out like a candle and then gusted back again. “Fool.” Its voice rumbled through the cavernous expanse. “He is coming in after you.”
Thomas. Her heart gave a sickening lurch.
“He will fail,” said the Charybdis. “The way is shut.”
Another tremor followed the first, stronger this time than before.
The Charybdis bared its teeth. Back arching, it let out a horrible snarl. “What manner of boy is this,” it demanded, “that can force his way through the sky?”
It’s Thomas, she thought again, this time with a swell of pride. Because of course it was.
He’d always come for her. Wasn’t that what he’d promised?
“The way is shut,” bellowed the Charybdis. It no longer sounded like Thomas. Now its voice was a whale song, shuddering and vast. It pummeled into her with a force that nearly bowled her over.
A hand folded around hers, and she was wrenched violently backward. “Time to go,” said Colton Price in her ear.
“Wait—”
She stumbled through the dark, her feet leaving little silver splashes.
“Don’t leave me,” shrieked the little Vivienne. She was running after them, her tiny gray hand outstretched. “Don’t leave me here alone!”
There came a great sucking sound, like air being swallowed up in a vacuum. Vivienne felt her entire body pinch in on itself as, somewhere behind her, the Charybdis let out a violent roar. The air changed, turning as frosted as a winter. Her breath hung before her in pale white fractals. They were beside a flat, frozen pond, staggering hand in hand through a meadow of spiked white florets. A dark-haired little boy sat up from beneath, startled, and peered over at them. On his head sat a lopsided flower crown.
“Who isthat?” he asked Colton.
“Your sister,” said Colton, without ever once stopping. “Don’t go by the water.”
Out on the pond, great black fissures began to form atop the ice. They crackled outward, splintering like glass. A watery thud came from beneath, as though something heavy was trying to push through.
“Don’t let go,” ordered Colton.
Another pinch. They stepped out of ice and into darkness. Vivienne fell and fell, tumbling forward and then back, dropping once more into that unholy gorge. They were weaving down a dry ravine, thin as a river and black as adamite. Behind them, the ground split apart, cleaving open like some great stony maw. Colton ran faster.
And there, high above them, a little girl with rainbow mittens stood beneath a sprawl of desert starlight.
“Come back,” she said. “Come home.”
They erupted into sunlight. A brillant sear of blue. A fragrant cluster of dogwood trees. The road stretched out underfoot, sizzling hot beneath her bare feet. Vivienne swayed where she stood, her equilibrium knocked senseless, and then toppled to her knees. She managed to suck in a single, unsteady breath before the breathing stopped altogether.
“Check her,” said Colton. There was an undertone of worry in his voice. “Make sure she didn’t sever anything vital. I was moving too quickly to be careful about it.”
Vivienne didn’t have time to make sense of what he’d said before the white-haired girl from the church was there, squatting before her. Lane, Vivienne remembered. She was joined by a freckled, flame-haired redhead.
“Breathe in through your nose,” instructed the redhead. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“The first time is awful,” said Lane, rubbing circles into her back. “You did great.”
