by Jana Miller
“Hey, Chloe?”
I cracked an eye open to see Janie standing at my door. “Yeah?”
She walked over to sit on my bed, not saying anything for a minute. I sat up a little and finally noticed she was holding something. “What’s that?”
She looked at me, her face all nerves and confusion, and held up a vase. I just raised my eyebrows in question, not sure what a vase had to do with anything.
“I broke this,” she said, staring at it.
I squinted at it. “Well, I can’t tell—at least not in the dark.” I lay my head back on the pillow. “You must have done a good job fixing it.”
“No, I didn’t fix it. It’s not fixed. It—it just looks like it wasn’t broken at all. But I broke it last week. Remember? When we were setting the table and I couldn’t reach the pitcher?”
A bit of a memory flashed for a moment—Janie reaching, asking for my help—but that was it. “I…don’t think so,” I said, alarm bells going off in my head. Was this another rewind memory? Why would she remember that if I didn’t?
“Well, I did. At least, I’m almost sure I did. I dropped it and you looked at me, but—I can’t remember what you did or said after that.”
I swallowed. Maybe I’d rewound it. If I’d felt like it was my fault or really didn’t want Janie to get in trouble or feel bad…or maybe this was just part of what Leah had rewound. I sighed. “Maybe it was a dream,” I suggested halfheartedly.
Janie blew out a breath. “If it was a dream, then I sure am having a lot of really vivid dreams, especially ones about you. I ‘dreamed’ that you went on a date with Jake.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, definitely a dream. In no reality would I ever go on a date with Jake. He has a girlfriend, and he’s a senior, and he’s—Jake.” It would be like dating my annoying older brother.
“I remember him coming to the door, though,” she insisted. “Mom was all excited and giving you tips, like ‘make sure he holds the door open for you’ and stuff.”
I shook my head gingerly. Just trying to process this was making my head worse. “I promise that didn’t happen,” I said.
But even as I said it, a niggling hint of a memory pressed at my consciousness. Jake in a button-up shirt, wearing cologne, tugging on his shirt and asking if I was impressed.
Why would I ever have gone on a date with Jake? I’d have to ask him about it.
“I know it wasn’t a dream,” she said. “I can tell the difference between dreams and memories, Chloe.”
Just then I heard my mom calling Janie from downstairs. “Oh yeah,” Janie said. “I was supposed to ask if you need some headache medicine. Mom’s handing it out like candy.”
“Huh?”
“She and I both have headaches too, so she was wondering if you want some too—or your prescription.”
“You guys both have headaches too? I’m sorry. . .”
I felt her shift on the bed. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as yours. But I’ve had it ever since the other night, when you went to the ER.”
Her tone caused me to open my eyes a little to look at her again. I reached out to touch her hand, and she looked at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. It was about the fifth time she’d asked this week.
I swallowed. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Other than a mass in my brain and knowing that the Ring of Time is broken…“Are you okay?” I tried to look at her more closely.
“Yeah,” she answered, absently rubbing her leg and staring at the vase. “I just…feel like…I don’t know. Like everything is confused. And the headache doesn’t help.”
I knew exactly how that felt—and I wished I could tell her why. I glanced down at the hand rubbing her leg. “Is something wrong with your leg?”
“What?” she answered absently, then looked down. “Oh. It’s just been achy. Mom thinks it’s growing pains.”
“Oh. Huh.”
“Good thing I took some ibuprofen for my headache—it should help my leg too.” She forced a smile. “So which one do you want—regular or prescription?”
I sighed. “I guess I better take the prescription.”
“You got it.” She stood up to leave, absently setting the vase on my dresser on her way out.
“Hey Janie?”
She stopped at the door and turned. “Yeah?”
“Let me know if your headache gets any worse, okay?”
“Oh—yeah, okay.”
* * *
I jerked awake the next morning, something in my dreams or memories reminding me of the list I’d taken from Lillian’s office. Could a place like that make a fake amulet? I wasn’t even fully awake, but I called Leah.
“I think Rob was right,” I said as soon as she answered.
“Right? About what?”
“The amulet. What if it really is a fake? Remember how you said something felt wrong about it?”
“Yeah, I thought of that too. But—”
“Because I forgot to tell you,” I interrupted. “When I looked around your mom’s office, I found a list of weird businesses.” I got out of bed and started rummaging through my dirty clothes to find the jeans I’d been wearing that day. “I grabbed it, thinking it might be something that had to do with the amulet, but I forgot about it until this morning.”
“What kind of weird businesses?” Leah asked after a pause.
“Hold on,” I said, pulling it out of the pocket. “Let’s see. So most of them are in Sedona, but there are some here in Flag.” I wasn’t surprised. Flagstaff was a funny place, and downtown was a metaphysical paradise. “New Age Light,” I read. “Healing Chakra Gifts and Curios. Vortex Healing Gemstones…”
“Those are actual places?”
“Apparently,” I answered. “There are phone numbers and addresses for all of them. Do you want to come look at it with me? Or I could take a picture of it.”
“Um…lemme think for a second.” I could tell from her voice that I’d probably woken her up—or maybe it was just her own headache making it hard to think or talk. “How many did you say are here in Flagstaff?”
I skimmed the list again. “Just two,” I answered. “The rest are in Sedona.” Sedona was even more New Age than Flag.
“Should we just go to them?” she asked. “We can go check out the two that are here.”
I’d been thinking more along the lines of finding their websites or maybe calling them, but—“Sure, okay.”
“I’ll come get you. Will you call Jake?”
“Yep.”
We hung up, and thirty minutes later, the three of us were headed to the older part of downtown Flagstaff.
“So let me get this straight,” Jake said from the back seat. “You’re telling me that Chloe Brown—THIS Chloe Brown”—he gestured to me dramatically—“snuck into the office of her arch nemesis, where she snooped and searched and then actually pilfered this list?”
I rolled my eyes at “arch nemesis,” but then I waved him off like it was no big deal. “Oh, stop,” I said. “It’s not like we…stole her keys…snuck in there at night…and almost got caught . . .” I slid my eyes over to Leah, who was suppressing a smile.
“Stop.” Jake leaned forward and looked from me to Leah and back again, clearly impressed. “You did not.”
“Of course we didn’t,” Leah said innocently, and Jake leaned back in his seat with exaggerated astonishment, rubbing his head.
“I’m a bad influence on you two.”
I snorted a little. “That’s actually true.”
Leah glanced at me. “We probably shouldn’t hang out with him anymore.”
“You really shouldn’t,” Jake said as he opened his eyes and looked at the list I’d handed him. “Crystal Elements. Fantasia New Age Gifts,” he read, nodding appreciatively. “Nice. So you think one of these places made a fake amulet for Lillian?”
“I can’t think of any other reason she would go someplace like this,” Leah reasoned. “Normally she wouldn’t set foot in downtown Flagstaff, let alone a m
etaphysical hippie place.”
“Well, she did go to a spiritual vortex in Sedona,” Jake commented.
“Is there any way we can know for sure that’s what she got from them?” I asked.
“Sure,” Leah said, stopping at a light and checking the directions on her phone. “We can ask.”
* * *
The smell of incense hit my nose as soon as we entered Fantasia New Age Gifts. Soothing Celtic music played and I gaped at all the crystals, oils, rows of incense, and jewelry on the left. I turned to see a couple of customers browsing through rows of books on the right, and wandered over to see if there was anything about metals and gemstones as Leah went up to the counter.
“Check it out,” Jake said, grabbing a book on vision quests. “I’ve got to come here more often.”
I picked up a book from a different shelf and heard the clerk talking to Leah up at the counter. “We do make custom jewelry, but we haven’t made anything with emerald or copper for quite a while. They’re not as popular as some other materials.”
“You’re sure?” Leah asked.
“Definitely. We don’t get a lot of custom orders, and there have only been three or four the past couple months.”
“All right, thanks,” Leah said.
“Well…” I said as we left, “at least we know they do make stuff like that, so we must be on the right track.”
A bell jingled above the door when we entered Crystal Elements a couple streets down, which smelled more like essential oils than incense. A girl with dreadlocks and ripped jeans came through a beaded curtain near the counter to restock shelves that were already packed with crystals, jewelry, candles, and other trinkets. She smiled at us, and Leah approached her as Jake and I hung back, this time reading the placards indicating the uses of various rocks and gems.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” Leah said. “I hope so. I was wondering if the order for Lillian Winters is ready.”
I glanced over at Leah. She’d changed her tactic. And we knew Lillian had already picked up the amulet—weeks ago. I shot a questioning look to Jake, who grinned and nodded his approval.
“Let me check,” the girl—whose nametag read Sunshine—said, and she headed around to the other side of the counter.
“I wasn’t sure if my mom picked it up or not,” Leah explained, leaning forward against the counter as the clerk confirmed the name and typed it in.
“Hm,” Sunshine said. “I don’t show any orders ready for her. What was it?”
“Um, an—amulet.” I could see Leah’s foot jiggling behind her. “Emerald and copper.”
Sunshine’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, yes, the talisman. I remember that. Yeah, it was picked up weeks ago.”
My mouth dropped open. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but this confirmation apparently wasn’t it. Lillian really had commissioned a duplicate amulet. I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or horrified. Maybe it was good that Lillian didn’t have the real amulet; at least she wouldn’t be able to become a Master of Time—hopefully. As long as the fake amulet didn’t actually make everything worse.
Leah quickly thanked the clerk and we made our escape through the jingling door.
“How could she think that would possibly work?” Leah burst out as soon as we were outside. “She thinks some random New Age crystal place can replicate an ancient amulet that accesses the Ring of Time?”
“I wonder what she told them to get them to make it,” I mused. “She couldn’t have thought that just making something that looks like the original will be able to do anything.”
Leah shrugged. “Maybe she figured that as long as it was made of the same materials, since emerald and copper are supposed to have those specific properties…that it would work?”
“Your mom must be really desperate,” Jake said, shaking his head.
“Well, we know she’s obsessed and determined,” I muttered—and immediately felt bad for it when Leah gave me a pained look, obviously knowing I was referring to her mom’s ruthless attempts to control my rewinding. “Sorry, I shouldn’t bring that up,” I said. “You don’t need any more reminders of…” your evil mother…
Leah just shook her head. “It’s fine.” She glanced at me. “Do you have a headache?”
I hadn’t realized I’d been rubbing my head. I shrugged. “I always have a headache.” But then I stopped walking. “Wait. I shouldn’t always have a headache anymore. I haven’t rewound in…days. But it’s getting worse, not better.”
Jake had turned when I stopped walking. “You too?” he asked. “Mine hasn’t gone away since the springback.”
Leah sighed. “Same here, but I thought it was because it was my rewind.”
I groaned. “No, I think it’s because the Ring is broken. And I doubt it will get any better until we fix it.”
We walked in silence for a few moments before Jake huffed out a breath. “I can’t believe my dad was right.”
I glanced sideways at him. “About the amulet being fake?” He nodded. “How’s it going with him? Is he—he’s not—staying with you, is he?”
Jake shook his head. “No. He left a little while after you guys did yesterday, and came back after my mom came home, tried to get me to act like he hadn’t been there earlier. Like I’m about to do him any favors.”
I never knew how to act around people who were upset. I’d always avoided conflict as much as possible, rewinding when necessary, so I wasn’t great at dealing with it.
“He didn’t stay long, just said he’d come because he was worried about me—my brain—and apologized to us for everything.
“So where’s he staying?” Leah asked.
“I don’t know. Hotel, I guess.”
I didn’t know Jake well enough to tell if he really didn’t care or if he was just really good at acting like he didn’t.
* * *
“You know what’s going on, don’t you?”
I jerked, turning in my desk chair to see Janie standing in my bedroom doorway once again, this time with her arms folded.
I rubbed at my temples. “You scared me,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, sorry. I know you have a headache.” She pointed at her own head. “So do I.” She went back to her arms-folded stance. “And I think you know why.”
I swallowed. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Her eyes narrowed a little. I didn’t think it was possible for her to look any more accusing than she did right now, as she sauntered in and took a seat on my bed. “Why do I dream about golden strands?” she asked.
My eyes almost popped out of my head. “What?” My mouth went dry. I couldn’t rewind this; she obviously knew a lot already. What could I tell her? I stared at her for a moment before I realized that she deserved to know. She was suffering because of the Ring, because of the breach. She was connected to the Ring now; she was invested.
I took a deep breath. “Did you…remember something?” I asked.
“Yeah. I remember you asking me if I dream about golden strands.”
My eyebrows shot up. “I asked you that?”
She nodded. Great.
“So—I guess you do dream about them?”
She nodded again, but I still had to be sure. “Can you describe them?” I was probably just stalling.
She watched me steadily. “They’re like…tons of thin, glowing hairs.”
I exhaled. “Okay. How long have you been seeing them?”
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “A few months?”
A few months? What had started it for her? I couldn’t remember anything traumatic that would have caused it. “Did…did something bad happen to you a few months ago?”
She gave me an incredulous look and threw her hands up. “I don’t know, Chloe!” she said, exasperated. “I just know I’ve been dreaming about them, and now I keep remembering weird things that supposedly didn’t happen, and they all include you, and you’ve been acting crazy, and I think you know why you’re g
etting headaches and why I’m getting headaches, and now I remember you asking me about something I’ve been dreaming about.” She pinned me with another glare. “So I’m thinking you know what’s going on.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself. “You’re right,” I said, opening my eyes. “I do.” I got up and closed the door. “I’ll tell you about the strands, but you have to promise that you won’t do anything stupid. If you try anything with them, you could get seriously hurt. Especially with how they are now.”
“Do anything with them?” she repeated, looking at me like I was definitely crazy. “What would I do with them?”
I sat back down in my chair, blowing out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “You would”—I cleared my throat—“you would rewind time with them.”
Chapter Twenty
I couldn’t believe I had told Janie.
I had my head down on our lunch table, going over and over what I’d told her, hoping that she would take all of my warnings seriously. I hadn’t told her all that much—just a vague outline of how long I’d been rewinding and how it felt—along with the fact that the reason she and my mom were having headaches like me was probably that the Ring of Time was messed up. She had a lot of questions, like, of course, how exactly do you rewind and how did the Ring get messed up. I told her I wasn’t sure how the Ring had gotten messed up, not wanting to bring Lillian or anybody else into the picture yet, but I’d told her the basics of rewinding, along with many, many reminders that she absolutely should not try to handle the strands because she would most definitely pass out at the very least.
“Fine,” she’d said. “But after you fix it, will you teach me to rewind? Wait, maybe I can help you fix it!”
That thought had horrified me enough to almost rewind that entire conversation, but I’d assured her that she needed to wait until it was fixed. “I’ll teach you,” I’d told her. “I promise.”
I just hoped I wouldn’t end up regretting that promise. Just thinking about it now made me groan into the table.
“Why are you even at school today?”