The detail I’d put into every part of it, the shadows and the highlights, every stroke of my pencil—it was so precise. This object, too, was real. I’d seen this before, had analyzed it long enough to be able to draw it—only I had no idea where.
When I turned the page, I expected to find more like it for some reason. Instead, Mimi’s smiling face greeted me.
Now, I was smiling, too. Her eyes sparkled on the portrait. She looked happy. She was glowing.
I liked you before.
I must have liked her, too. Just the way I’d written her name at the edge of the page in cursive. Myspecialhandwriting.
Then there was Anika. Seth. Helen. Erith. Russ…
And Reggie.
A cross between a cry and a moan slipped out of me before I could help it. My body and my mind were two different entities right now—I was sobbing, but I didn’t know why. Reggie was smiling on the page, that easy, mischievous grin I’d seen when we first woke up here, and it hurt so badly I couldn’t breathe. It hurt physically all over my body and I didn’t understand why.
I didn’t understand why I continued to look at every line, every shadow, every feature I’d drawn with such care, until I was sure I would pass out.
I had to turn the page. Ihadto, so I did.
Again, I stopped crying.
I must have been louder than I thought because when I stopped abruptly, my ears still rang.
The face on the page in front of me was one I’d never seen before yet knew in detail. Big eyes, dark; long lips and cheekbones deeply carved; hair straight, thick, tucked behind his ears, the tips just grazing the outline of his shoulders.
The name handwritten at the edge of the page wasSilas.
“Silas.”
The Spade boy. The Timekeeper.
The traitor.
His name was Silas, and I’d known his face in detail at one point. It made sense—every face I’d drawn here was exactly like the person. Identical. Every line was so precise. There had been no hesitation here, no second thoughts.
This person was real. This face belonged to the Spade boy. This was Silas.
And I most definitely had liked him before, too.
A few hours later,I woke up to a scream so loud I didn’t even consider it was inside my head at all. I sat up with a jerk, the sketchbook still between my arms. Must have slept with it clutched to my chest—and the screaming continued.
Time’s Teeth, what is happening?!
The sound of doors opening and closing, and footsteps rushing down the hallway had me jumping off the bed in no time. I ran, pulled my door open to find Cook running to the other side, toward one of the rooms down the middle—right where the scream was coming from.
I ran, too, without really thinking, the sketchbook in my hand still, like it was the only thing keeping me upright. By the time I made it into the room, the screaming had stopped, and all the other Hands were already in there, standing around the bed, trying to get a terrified Erith to calm down.
She was shaking, her hands on her head, her knees up to her chest— “The queen, it was the queen, the queen!” she repeated in a shaking voice.
I was by the door still, and I couldn’t make my legs move, couldn’t get myself closer like the rest of them had gone, all around the bed. They all wore pajamas—only I’d gone to bed fully clothed. The only thing I’d removed was my boots, but I didn’t even feel it if the marble was cold underneath my feet.
“It was a dream, just a dream,” the others told her, and Anika tried to grab Erith’s hand to hold, but she refused.
“It was the queen!” she insisted, eyes squeezed shut, rocking back and forth, shaking her head.
“What about the queen?What aboutthe White Queen?!”someone asked—could have been Russ. They all looked panicked, disoriented, terrified.
And my eyes fell on Mimi, who had her arms wrapped around herself, and who was looking down at the floor or her bare feet.
