by Lisa Mangum
Dante gathered his stillness around him as effortlessly as he gathered me into his arms. “Maybe the best way for me to explain it is to tell you a story. Close your eyes and pretend we’re under that tree on the hillside.”
I did as he asked, relaxing into his embrace and nestling closer to his side. I folded my arms against my chest as though I could keep my heart from breaking. “What’s the story about?”
“What all good stories are about: a boy and a girl and how they met.”
I sniffled a little and wiped away a stray tear. “If this is about how you and I met, then I know this story.”
“You know the story of how we met that day at school.” Dante smoothed his hand over my hair and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “This is the story of the first time I saw you.”
I stilled as though I had turned to stone. “Isn’t that the same story?”
“No,” Dante said softly and tilted my face toward his. “It isn’t.”
I opened my eyes to see his gray eyes turn the silver-blue of the stars at dawn.
“This story begins in Italy, long ago. I was locked in a dungeon cell, fighting what I feared would be a losing battle for my sanity while I waited to learn my fate. And then, one day, I saw a girl standing in the doorway of the prison. She had the face of an angel.” He gently traced his finger across my forehead, around the edge of my eye, down the slope of my cheek, and along my jaw before coming to rest on my chin. His thumb traced my lower lip. “She had this face.”
I didn’t dare breathe. His touch left fire tingling inside me.
“I’d never seen her before that moment. I didn’t know her name or who she was or why she was there, but when her eyes met mine, I felt . . .” He closed his eyes, the memory moving across his face, smoothing away the lines of worry around his mouth and eyes. “It was like the roof had been ripped away and taken all the shadows with it. Like I’d been granted one last glimpse of the summer sun.”
I felt a tremor start deep inside my body, rippling outward. I had seen that same moment in the river: a girl standing in a doorway, looking into a dungeon. Was it possible that girl had been looking for Dante? Was it possible that girl was me?
Dante opened his eyes. “The guards pulled her away and she was gone, but it didn’t matter. I had caught a glimpse of heaven, and I held on to it all the way through the darkness, all the way through the door, and all the way to the bank. When Leo taught me about the river, it wasn’t long before I started seeing that angel’s face again in its liquid depths. This time, though, she wasn’t looking for me, I was looking for her. And I finally found her one snowy January day at her school auditorium.”
“You were covered with snowflakes that day,” I said, my voice low, my memories spiraling back to the past.
“And you were as beautiful as I remembered you.”
“But how could that girl you saw back then be me?”
“Because when faced with the choice you’re facing right now, you chose to go back.”
I blinked in surprise and then sat up, pushing away from Dante. “Wait a minute. So you’re saying I’ve already made this decision? What about all that business about how you don’t know what’s going to happen downstream? If you already know what I’m going to do, then why should I bother making any choices at all?” My tears evaporated in a heat of rage. “I guess my life is already planned out, huh?”
“No, Abby, it’s not like that. You still have your free will. Your choices still matter. In fact, yours might matter most of all.” He ran his hands through his hair, his mouth a tight line of frustration. “In one sense that moment has already happened—I remember seeing you in the doorway of that prison—but in another sense it hasn’t happened yet because you haven’t yet gone back to the past to stand in that doorway. And it won’t happen until you actually make your choice and do whatever it is you’re going to do.”
“So, if I decide not to go through the door, then you won’t have seen me in the doorway?”
“That’s right. But I will still be sent through the door, and I will still end up on the bank with Leo. It’s just that if I don’t see you in the doorway, then I won’t go to the school that day to meet you.”
My emotions ran as hot and wild as my words. “But if you’d never met me, then you’d never have taken me to the bank, and then Zo never would have known about the door and how he could go back. He wouldn’t have gained the power to change the river.” I barked a harsh laugh. “He wouldn’t have changed my family at all—he wouldn’t have had any reason to!” I pressed my fists against my eyes, squeezing until my knuckles ached. It was too much to process. There was too much to think about.
“I can’t do this, Dante. I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. I just want my old life back,” I muttered.
The room was silent. The stillness that had been centered around Dante shattered. I imagined it was the same sound as a heart breaking.
“If that’s really what you want,” Dante said softly, “I can arrange that. If that would make you happy.”
My hot blood froze to ice in an instant. My memory flashed back to Zo sitting on a park bench, an impossible question on his lips: If you truly wish we’d never met, why haven’t you asked Dante to change things? He would do it; he’d do anything for you. Even if it meant endangering the river, or his own life.
Here was my chance to change things. And I wouldn’t even have to ask anyone to change anything for me. I could simply choose to go home, destroy the hinge buried in my sock drawer, and never look back. No door meant no Zo. Tomorrow I would wake up and I’d have my old life back. My parents. My sister, Hannah. Jason. The Valerie who lived with her parents and not in a mental hospital.
I would have everything.
Except Dante.
Zo’s voice reached out to me across my memory again: You can honestly say that you’d be happier without Dante in your life?
I pulled my fists away from my eyes, blinking away the pressure spots. Zo hadn’t given me a chance to answer that question, but I realized that the answer I would have given then was the same answer I felt now.
Without Dante in my life, whatever happiness I felt would be incomplete.
My family and Dante. I wanted both. I needed both.
If there was only one way it was possible to have both, then there was only one choice I could make.
Dante sat with his hands resting limply in his lap. “I understand, Abby, and I’ll leave if you ask me to. If that is your choice, I’ll go. I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you. Believe me, that was never my intention.” He leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands, his dark hair falling over his face. “But there will always be a part of me that will miss you forever, even if we never meet.”
Tears returned to my eyes, but this time they weren’t from anger or fear. They were tears that came from understanding the truth about myself and from realizing that what I had was exactly what I had wanted all along.
“Dante?” I said, touching his shoulder, my heart fluttering in amazement at what I was about to do. “If I choose to go back, then everything happens just as it has happened, right? We meet, we fall in love. Everything. The good and the bad.”
He nodded, but didn’t look up.
“And if I go back, you think we can restore my family and stop Zo from breaking down the barriers between the river and the bank, right?”
He nodded again. “That’s what I was trying to explain. If you go back and stand on that doorstep so I can see you before I go through the door, then everything unfolds along this path we’ve already traveled. But that moment is also what will close the loop and protect not only this part of the river but the past as well. And once the loop is closed, the river will be locked in place and protected all the way back to da Vinci. No one will be able to change it again. Not even Zo.”
“That’s why you said that our best chance of stopping him would be to let him go,” I said. “Because if I let him go, then I would le
t you go as well, and I’d be more likely to build the door that would take me back to that crucial moment when you saw me on the doorstep of the prison.”
Dante lifted his head and looked at me, admiration flickering in the depths of his eyes. “Exactly. Abby, seeing you then was what saved me during that long journey through the time machine. Having you in my life now is what has saved me here.” He touched the locket at my neck before reaching for my hand. He kissed my fingers and then pressed my palm flat against his chest, covering my hand with his own. “My heart and my life have always been in your hands.”
“I promised you I would keep them safe,” I said, my heart beating hard and fast in my throat. “What would you like me to do?”
Dante shook his head. “I told V that it would be wrong for him to choose a life for Valerie without her fully understanding what was waiting for her on the other side,” he said quietly. “You have all the information. You know the stakes. The black door changed everything about my life. It will change everything about yours, too. But I won’t force you to make this decision. It must be your choice.”
I pressed my palm against his cheek. “My life changed the moment I met you,” I said simply. “I don’t want to lose that moment. I want to have met you, Dante. I want you in my life. And if going through the door means I can save my family and stop Zo and be with you, then it’s an easy choice. I choose you. I choose yes.”
Chapter
25
Dante’s kiss stole my breath away. He kept saying my name between kisses, his hands cupping my face. The nearness of his body ignited a fire within me, burning away whatever lingering doubts I might have had.
He swept his hands down my neck, resting them on my shoulders, his thumbs meeting in the hollow of my throat. His eyes were as bright as a sunrise. “I love you, Abby. I think I could live the rest of my life and never know the depths of you.”
He kissed me one last time, at once so gentle and so deep that I saw stars in the darkness behind my eyes.
Some distant time later, I finally opened my eyes to see Dante smiling at me.
“I love you, too,” I said, only then realizing how inadequate those small words were to express all the emotion I was carrying in my heart.
I slipped my hand into his, and together we went upstairs.
Natalie was making sandwiches in the kitchen and Valerie sat at the counter, coloring a picture with a fat crayon in her fist. A rainbow of discarded colors cluttered the countertop around her. She hummed a tune through her nose and dangled her bare feet from the tall stool where she sat.
“Oh, good, you’re up,” Natalie said, sliding one of two grilled cheese sandwiches onto a plate. “Are you guys hungry?”
“As long as it’s quick,” I said, my stomach rumbling. I picked up the sandwich and took a bite out of it. The hot cheese burned my mouth but it tasted delicious.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Natalie asked.
“She’s going back home,” Valerie chimed in, the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth. “I hope she makes it okay, though, because it won’t be as easy as she thinks. See, I drew a picture.”
Valerie held up the sheet of paper proudly. The top third of the paper was filled with small golden stars linked together with thick yellow lines. The bottom third had been colored in bright blue until it looked like an ocean. A brown boat with a mast and a sail bobbed between the peaks of two waves. A crude skull and crossbones hovered above the boat. In the middle of the paper was a stick-figure girl with ragged brown hair standing in front of a door that had been colored solid black.
“Is that me?” I asked, pointing to the girl, unsettled.
“For now,” Valerie said slyly. She turned the picture upside down and studied the image critically.
The three of us exchanged a heavy glance.
“Is that what I think it is?” Natalie asked, stepping closer to us. “Because it looks like Dante’s description of the black door.”
I nodded. “We’re going to fix it so I can use it to save my family.”
To Natalie’s credit, she took that bit of information in stride. “So what’s up with the pirate ship?”
“It’s Zo,” I said. “He’s the Pirate King.”
Valerie’s head snapped up. “I told you not to say his name! I told you, but you did it anyway. Why did you do that?” She curled the edges of the picture in her hands, fretting and anxious. She tapped the boat with her finger. “The Pirate King knows where you are. He knows where you’re going. He’s on his way to meet you. You have to hurry.”
Natalie dropped the pan on the stove with a clang. She scooped up the second sandwich and handed it to Dante. “Go.”
“We’ll be at the Dungeon. That’s where the door is,” I said to Natalie, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you for everything, Nat. You’re the best friend I could have asked for.” I held back the tears that appeared in my eyes. “If I don’t see you again—”
“Don’t talk like that. No good-byes. Just . . . do what you have to.”
I nodded and gave her one more hug. Then I hurried after Dante, who had reached the front door in three strides and was holding it open for me.
“Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate’s life for me,” sang out Valerie as Dante closed the door.
We quickly stopped by my house to pick up the hinge. Dante would be able to work around V’s mistakes, but there would be no point if we couldn’t open the door.
As I exited my room with the brass machine heavy in my hands, I couldn’t help but peek into Hannah’s room one last time. It was still perfectly presented, right down to the matching pillows on the bed, but the entire room was simply a shell, void of life. I curled my fingers around the three prongs of the hinge. With luck, I would be able to return this room to its rightful owner and fill it with the life I knew belonged there.
My heart twisted a little as I realized that, with Mom at work, I wouldn’t be able to say good-bye to her. I held on to the thought that soon enough I’d be back home with my family and they would be whole, complete, and safe.
Coming down the stairs, I saw Dante waiting for me in the front room and I was hit with a peculiar déjà vu. I remembered the first time I had seen him standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me. So much had happened since that day when he had unexpectedly arrived to take me to breakfast. So many memories I didn’t want to forget. So many memories I wanted to save.
“Are you ready?” he asked me.
I looked down at the hinge in my hands. My heart answered before my mouth did, and I was glad that they both said the same thing. “Yes,” I replied. “I am.”
***
The empty lot looked strangely ominous as Dante pulled up alongside the curb. I knew it was just my imagination, but I thought I saw a flicker of light shining up from the basement.
“How long will it take you to fix what you need to on the door?” I asked as Dante helped me out of the car.
“Not long,” he said, moving to the back of the car and unlocking the trunk. “Luckily, none of the changes I need to make are time-sensitive ones. I should be able to restore the door to its proper working order—as well as fix the mistakes V made—by adding a few images and modifying the ones V misplaced.”
I shaded my eyes and looked around the rubble. As far as I could tell, we were alone, but Valerie had said Zo was on his way. I hoped we had made it here first.
Dante lifted a toolbox from the trunk. “At least we know the hinge works, so that’s good.”
He took my hand and headed for the hole in the ground that led to the basement.
I didn’t move, though, and Dante stopped only a few feet from me. He turned back to look at me. A light wind ruffled his dark hair, loosening that unruly lock so it fell across his eyes.
“Dante? Will . . . will it hurt, do you think?”
His eyes softened and he set down the toolbox. Returning to my side, he rubbed his hands over my arms. “No, love, no, it won’t hurt. It will be dar
k. And cold. But whatever pain I felt from traveling through the door came from these”—he touched the chains on his wrist—“and you won’t have them.” He pulled me close to his chest. “It will be over before you know it. And I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”
I closed my eyes briefly. I took a breath and exhaled it, forcing my fear to go with it. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay,” I said quietly.
Dante picked up the toolbox again but kept his arm around my shoulder while we walked to the basement.
The gaping hole still smelled oddly like smoke even though I knew the inferno that had devoured the Dungeon had happened weeks ago. A flurry of footprints were scattered around the opening, sharp heel prints and smudged toes alternating in the ash.
“Leo and V should be here already,” Dante said, kicking the dirt off the first step. “I told them to wait for us.”
I followed him down the curving steps to the basement floor, my heart seeming to skip a beat for every step I took. I counted them one through ten, and when I reached the bottom, my courage had returned. I smiled, thinking that Jason’s counting trick had worked its magic again.
“Dante,” Leo called, holding up his hand in greeting. “Is everything all right?”
Leo had cleaned the basement as best he could, clearing away as much of the debris and clutter as possible. His hands were black with soot and a line of it streaked across his cheek, another across his forehead.
“Abby agreed, so, yes, I think so.” Dante set the toolbox down with a puff of dust. “But we don’t have much time.”
“Why not?” V asked, standing up from where he had been crouching next to the freestanding door frame.
“Valerie said Zo was on his way here,” I said.
Leo frowned. “He’s coming here? When? Now?”
V smiled, a strange gleam shining in his dark eyes. “Good. Then it’s time to make him pay.” He moved swiftly to my side, gripping my arm with a strong hand. He spoke in an undertone, so quietly that no one else heard him. “Remember—when he shows up, you hold him in place. I’ll take care of the rest.”