by Ally Condie
We could’ve died.
Nico had never felt so frozen. His brain was numb as he dragged dry clothes on over his stinging, tingling limbs. The three girls were in the showroom, changing in privacy. Logan had slumped to the floor beside Tyler in rumpled jeans and a hoodie, rocking back and forth as he tried to rub feeling into his extremities. Tyler’s lips were blue as he yanked a second sweatshirt down on top of his first.
“Let’s n-never d-d-do that ag-gain, okay?” Tyler stuttered.
Logan cackled unexpectedly. “Wassa matter? You didn’t like j-j-joining the p-polar bear c-club?”
Nico zipped a fleece jacket tight, his head and neck steaming like an ice cube. “I should’ve thought about reconnecting with the Darkdeep before we left the Void,” he scolded himself. “We almost ended up deep-sea castaways during a freaking snowstorm.”
“Don’t beat yourself up.” Logan wobbled upright and began stamping ice from his boots. “I first considered it while floundering twenty feet below the ocean waves.” He shivered from more than low body temperature. “Not a pleasant experience.”
Nico nodded, still disappointed he’d overlooked such a basic detail. That little mistake nearly landed them in deep, deep trouble. Use your head next time! Aren’t you supposed to be a leader?
Tyler rubbed both hands over his face, then sneezed loudly. “Let’s never do that again, okay?” he repeated, though at least he’d stopped sputtering from brain freeze.
“We’re gonna have extra figments to deal with.” Grimacing, Logan glanced at the front door. “Hopefully tamer than our missing attack wolf.” Then his voice dropped to a mutter. “If that was a figment, anyway …”
“Not just the wolf,” Tyler said. “Don’t forget Mr. Reamer’s boat-sinking cat.”
“We don’t know for sure if those things are Darkdeep-related.” Nico tucked his hands inside his sleeves, wincing through the pins and needles of getting his fingers to thaw. “But we do know what happens when we dive through the well. There should be at least five new figments on the island, up to who-knows-what.”
Logan waved a lazy arm at the door. “We should … you know … get them.”
“Later,” Tyler groaned. “If I step back outside right now, I’ll be a Tyler popsicle.”
“Same.” Nico sighed. “We’re in no shape to go hunting for trouble. And we need to talk to this Aster girl first anyway.”
Logan walked to the showroom’s entry curtain and reached out a hand, but then paused and stepped back, leaving the velvet undisturbed. “So, like … do you think they’ve finished changing clothes?”
“Give it a minute,” Nico and Tyler both blurted in unison.
“Right.” Logan spun and strode away, his face reddening. “Right right right.”
A beat later Opal’s voice carried into the foyer. “Okay, guys! You can come in!”
Logan glanced at Nico. “You first.”
Nico rolled his eyes and moved past him. He still wasn’t ready to accept Logan’s olive branch—it’s not like his father’s transfer had been magically reversed.
In the showroom, Emma and Opal were flanking a seated Aster, who seemed shaken by the extreme voyage. Nico was jarred at how different she looked decked out in modern clothes. Aster wore athletic pants and Opal’s form-fitting lavender zip jacket. Nico had to remind himself that he was facing a girl born in the mid-eighteenth century, before the invention of computers, cars, or even electricity. How will she possibly adapt?
Aster was staring fixedly at the floor with her arms wrapped around her midsection. Emma looked up, and Nico read the concern in her eyes.
“Aster,” Opal said quietly, gripping the nonresponsive girl’s hand in her own. “We’re back on Earth now, in a tiny cove not far from where your ship went down.”
“The place where we almost drowned a few minutes ago?” Logan added earnestly. “That’s what sunk your boat. The Rift must’ve swallowed the ship whole and spit out its wreckage on the sea floor.”
Nico shot Logan an exasperated look. “Dude!”
Logan blinked. He noticed everyone but Aster was glaring at him. “What? I’d want to know.”
A rasped voice emerged from the hunched-over girl, carrying an accent Nico couldn’t place. “The Dauphin was not consumed. It broke apart. I … I grabbed on to a trunk, but it fractured and I was left holding only my chessboard as I was dragged down into that … that … hole in the world.” She shivered and fell silent.
No one spoke for long, awkward seconds. Nico had zero idea what to do next.
Aster looked up suddenly. “I was the only one in that other place. Did anyone else … are there survivors here?”
Opal gave her a pained look. “As best we can tell, only your governess escaped the disaster. Yvette Dumont lived in Timbers for a long time, in a house painted purple to remember you by.”
Aster’s eyes were hard. “Lived? What is the meaning of that? She is here now?”
Nico stiffened. “Thing didn’t tell you?”
Aster turned her laser-like gaze on him. “The little green creature? Tell me what?”
Opal moved to crouch in front of Aster, catching and holding the girl’s eye. “Aster, a lot of time has passed on Earth while you were in Thing’s dimension. It’s been over two-and-a-half centuries since the Dauphin sank. But from what we can tell, Yvette lived a long, full life. And she never forgot you.”
Aster stared at Opal, eyes widening. A flush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Then she shook her head rapidly, and glanced away. Another period of brutal silence followed.
“Um, guys?” Tyler was suddenly staring out the showroom’s bay window. “We just left Earth like Aster. Did we, um … do you think time jumped for us, too?”
For a moment, Nico’s eyes popped. But then he relaxed. “We never entered Thing’s world, only the Void. We’ve been in that empty space before, and it didn’t affect our timelines. I think you have to go all the way through to Thing’s dimension.”
Tyler nodded quickly in relief. Nico noticed deep exhales from the other Torchbearers, too.
Opal returned her focus to Aster. “I know this is hard, Aster. I’m sorry we have such bad news. From what we’ve been able to learn, Yvette Dumont spent most of her life trying to prevent another tragedy from happening like the one that struck your ship. She did a lot of important things.”
Finally, Aster spoke again. “She was a hard woman, Madame Dumont. My father hired her, and we disagreed at times. But I am glad she … I am glad someone …” Tears formed in her eyes. Aster buried her head in her hands. No sobs followed, but her shoulders shook noiselessly.
Aster sniffed loudly, wiping her eyes where the others couldn’t see. Emma put a hand on the girl’s knee, but at the touch, Aster’s head rocketed back up. She stood abruptly and began pacing the room in shaky steps.
“Easy now,” Tyler said, raising both palms as if to calm a spooked horse. “No need to rush around. It’s been a day.”
“We can help you,” Emma said earnestly. “I think it’s part of our job, in fact.”
Aster halted. She turned to the group, her gaze flicking from face to face. “Who are you?”
Nico was surprised by the question. “We’re the Torchbearers. Thing didn’t tell you about us?”
Aster made a dismissive gesture. “I barely know this Dax creature. The tiny green goblin only said it had contacts in my world, and that they would come and rescue me.” Her eyes blazed at the word, but a beat later her stern expression softened. “Which, you did. So … thank you. For your assistance.”
“Anytime,” Logan deadpanned. “But maybe now you could answer some of our questions?”
Aster eyed him suspiciously. “What questions do you have of me?”
“Who are you?” Tyler asked. “Sorry if that’s rude, but we don’t really know, is all.”
Aster drew up to her full height. “Fine. A short introduction is appropriate. My name is Aster Caraway. My father is”—she went rigid, then
continued in a harder voice—“was a capitaine for the Dutch East India Company. I was born in Toulon, in the south of France. Upon my eighth birthday, I began boarding school in London. On my fifteenth birthday, I was allowed to accompany my father on a trading expedition to the Far East, under the rigorous stewardship of a governess, Madame Yvette Dumont. During the voyage we were blown off course by a terrible storm and pushed across nearly the entire Pacific Ocean, according to the navigator.” She exhaled deeply. “At last we sighted land, and sailed for it, but our ship foundered in a sudden, vicious whirlpool. You know the rest.”
Nico felt a sudden chill. “Your father was captain of the Dauphin?”
Aster swallowed. Nodded.
Tyler went rigid. He leaned over and elbowed Opal surreptitiously, whispering, “Lieutenant Commodore Caraway. From the old ship’s manifest I found in my Beast book. That’s her dad!”
Opal nodded, felt her heart breaking. Aster’s father had gone down with the Dauphin, and to her it had been less than a year. The human loss of the shipwreck hit Opal for the first time. History is just real people’s struggles from another time.
Another terrible quiet ballooned inside the showroom. Nico was staring at his hands.
Emma finally broke it. “What happened to you over there?” she asked gently. “You crossed the Void and visited another planet. How did you survive?”
Aster’s expression became guarded. “I do not wish to talk about that. Not yet. It was … hard. But humans can survive in that place.” Something flickered in her eyes, quickly masked. “If one is careful.”
Tyler frowned. “What does that mean?”
She gave him an icy look. “Dax’s world is not a safe place. Not a realm I should like my home connected to.”
Nico felt a prickle walk down his spine. “Aster, is there something we need to know about?”
Logan stepped forward, eyeing the girl intently. “My father is convinced the world is going to end, but he won’t say anything more. Do you know what he means by that?”
Aster met Logan glare-for-glare. Something worked behind her eyes, like she was weighing possible responses. Then her gaze slid past him, finding Emma instead.
“You wish to know what happened to me? Here it is: I was pulled through the Rift, as you call it, and became stranded within the in-between space. I lost consciousness for what may have been days. Years. Who knows how long? When I awoke, I was alone. Scared. I did not know what to do. I felt certain I was going to die.” Her voice deadened. “Then I saw a glimmering circle and decided to enter it. What else could I attempt? It led to another world and solid ground. There is food there, of a kind, and terrible, brackish water that will keep you alive. I … I avoided trouble and stayed as quiet as possible. A little mouse. For weeks. Then long months. Then this … this devilish green creature appeared. You seem to have figured out the rest. Dax put a note in a bottle, I carved a replica for my chessboard, and now I am here.”
Nico was spellbound by Aster’s story, but he had a weird feeling that she was intentionally leaving things out. What wasn’t she saying?
“What trouble did you avoid?” Tyler asked. “Takers?”
Aster went very pale. “Dark Ones. Yes. I hid from them. And … others.”
“What others?” Logan pressed.
Aster’s eyes grew hooded. Her glance cut to Nico, then away.
What was that look?
Logan seemed about to push the issue when Aster swayed on her feet. Her eyes rolled up into her skull.
Opal and Emma leaped over as one, catching Aster before she crumpled to the floor. They gently eased her down onto the bench. Opal’s red-hot glare swung back to encompass all three boys. “Enough. She needs rest. Can you imagine how traumatic this must be for her?”
Nico flinched. It’s not like they’d been interrogating Aster. And there were important things not being said, he felt sure of it. But now wasn’t the time. “Sure, Opal. No problem. Really.”
Emma was already digging into their store of camping supplies. “We can set up a space for her to sleep.” She glanced at the woozy girl. “You shouldn’t leave the houseboat just yet, Aster. A lot has changed since your time, and it might be too much to handle all at once.”
“Stay away from the Darkdeep,” Tyler warned, though he seemed unsure whether he was being understood. “In fact, don’t go downstairs at all. It’s super dangerous.”
If Aster heard either of them, she gave no sign. She’d curled into a ball with her head on Opal’s thigh. A moment later her breathing softened and she appeared to be asleep. Emma laid out a sleeping bag, then helped Opal slowly ease the older girl down into its warm cocoon.
Opal glanced up. “You boys can go now.”
It wasn’t a request.
“Gee, thanks,” Logan shot back. But he wilted at Opal’s flared eyebrow. “Okay, okay!”
Feeling vaguely affronted, Nico gathered his things and led Tyler and Logan to the curtain. He paused and glanced back at the three girls, one snoring gently, the other two huddled over her like worried hens.
Nico sighed. “We need to learn more about … everything, guys. And soon. We’re no closer to answers than when we dove into the Darkdeep.”
Opal nodded. “Tomorrow.”
Nico waved goodbye. Then he ducked through the curtain and headed for the door.
18
OPAL
Opal swore under her breath.
Crap! Not now.
Looking out her bedroom window, she saw a grinning, googly-eyed dollar sign bouncing down Overlook Row. The figment—for that’s obviously what it was—must’ve sprung from their trip through the Darkdeep yesterday, and she was pretty sure whose mind had created it.
“Nice job, Logan,” Opal muttered, rushing to grab the Torchbearer dagger she kept hidden in her desk. An impossible-to-explain creature, on the loose right here in town. Just what we need. At least this one came from someone inside their group, meaning it should be easier for them to dispel. She hurried downstairs and outside, ready to jab the thing and send it packing.
Logan appeared on his porch a few houses down, gripping his hair as the goofy dollar sign boinged happily toward him, humming tunelessly. He was wearing full SpongeBob pajamas.
“That has to be yours!” Opal whispered-shouted, pointing repeatedly at the prancing figment. “Get it get it get it.”
“I think about more than just money, you know!” But Logan vaulted down to the sidewalk and crouched in front of the capering cash symbol. “For example, I was just dreaming that the two of us got stuck on a Ferris wheel overnight, and we had to convince a talking caterpillar to help us down. So this doofus doesn’t have to be my idea. Now gimme that knife!”
Overnight? Opal felt a weird twinge as she hurried to join him. “Just take care of it. Here!”
She tossed him the dagger. Logan caught it deftly and lunged at the sparkling dollar sign. It took a couple of tries—the glowing nightmare kept bobbing around like a deranged kangaroo—but Logan finally tapped the blade against its side and the figment blipped out of existence. Opal and Logan breathed twin sighs of relief.
Opal gave Logan a once-over, then covered her mouth. “Nice jammies.”
Logan didn’t flinch. “SpongeBob rocks. I’ll wear these until they fall apart.”
“There’s gotta be more figments out there,” Opal said, doing a quick scan of the block to make sure they hadn’t been observed. Thankfully, it was early enough on a Saturday morning that the street was still empty. No other figments were in sight, either.
“Four at least.” Logan frowned. “Five, if Aster made one on her way back from the Void—I’m not sure how that works. And that joker almost made it into Timbers.”
“I take it you still need to change?” On their way home the night before, she and Logan had planned a trip to the public library to double-check Aster’s story. It wasn’t that Opal didn’t trust their new friend, but it never hurt to be sure.
Are we friends? Can I
call her that?
“I wonder what mine’ll be,” Opal muttered anxiously. “I wasn’t thinking of anything specific when I jumped into the Darkdeep, just that we needed to get through the well and reach the Rift. It could be anything. At least yours is handled.”
“We don’t know stupid Dollar Guy was mine,” Logan insisted stubbornly, before pivoting and stomping back into his house. Minutes later he reemerged in a BEAST PATROL sweatshirt he’d designed himself. Without another word, he started quickly up the street.
Opal had to jog-trot to catch up with him. “Okay, fine. Sorry. It’s not a big deal.”
They reached the end of the Row, where it met Main Street. Opal glanced both ways, and also up at the sky, making sure there weren’t any other rogue figments close by.
“Your figment will probably be a giant notebook,” Logan muttered, his jaw tight. “Or, like, a … a nagging monster.”
Opal whirled to glare at him. Logan shrugged. He looked away with a small smirk.
“My figments are never that literal,” Opal snapped, gripping her braid. “You just have a very basic mind.”
Logan clamped both hands over his heart. “Ouch. Sick burn.”
They turned the corner and headed uphill toward town square. Logan’s foul mood didn’t lessen. “Nico’s figment is probably super basic. Like, a walking billboard that says, ‘I blame Logan for everything.’ ”
“Maybe it’ll be his house, asking him not to move away,” Opal shot back. Now she was mad.
Logan went silent. Opal stole a glance at him, and saw that his face had completely fallen. In spite of herself, she felt bad. The morning was off to a terrible start.
Logan had lived through a rough few days himself, with his dad falling apart and raving about the end of the world. Her anger at the Nantes family felt like a cheap shot to use against him.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I know you feel bad about the transfer.”