Other kids from our class haven’t quite stayed on track in life. One boy I sort-of knew has dropped out of school, and there’s a girl in my homeroom with a baby bump. I think it’s actually that boy’s baby. Rumor has it he’s saving up to buy her a ring. I wonder if they’ll wait until after the baby’s born to tie the knot.
My economics grade is slipping, but my teacher said I can do a special project to get extra credit and make up for my last test grade. With Dad’s latest obsession, I’m hoping to pull off a paper about the Japanese stock market. He’s quit coughing and seems to be sleeping better.
At least French class is going well. Annie said she tested out of French. We had a whole conversation in French once, standing in the school hallway at the end of the day. By the time we reached the parking lot, still talking in French, we’d gotten more than a few looks from the students walking past us. It was a great laugh. Annie said my pronunciation’s even better than hers now.
It’s Sunday, almost four months since we moved here. Dad and Damien went to the hardware store a few minutes ago. Viv is out with Mark, so the house is empty and quiet. It’s about three in the afternoon. The rest of the house still needs a little unpacking and organization, but most of our boxes are gone.
I push myself off the bedroom floor, where I was sorting my newly clean clothes into dresser drawers, and put my hands on my hips. With a deep breath, a glance around the room, and a nod, I decide the room is clean enough for next week’s plans. Annie is coming over after Thanksgiving dinner with her family. It will be my first time having a friend over since moving in.
Picking up my cell phone from my nightstand, I send her a text.
Want to see a movie?
Thankfully she replies immediately. What’s playing today?
Idk, I text back. I’ll check.
I run downstairs to retrieve my laptop from the living room. After fifteen minutes, five more texts, and a quick note to Dad, I’m out the door and on my way to meet Annie at the theater for the latest book-based movie and salty theater popcorn.
The cold night air chills my lungs, but the night seems almost perfect. The sky is clear, with only the thinnest wisps of clouds. There’s a few thin patches of snow left from two days ago, but we haven’t reached the full wrath of a New York country winter yet. The movie was exactly what I wanted—funny and fluffy, if somewhat insubstantial. When Annie and I leave the theater, we decide to stop at a drive-through and get something sweet to finish our evening. She talks while I drive.
“So, Beila, the big city. There must have been some cute guys, right?”
I shrug. “I guess. I went on a few dates, but I wasn’t really into that sort of thing.”
“Oh, I get it. Cute girls, then?”
I laugh. “What? That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t into dating anyone. It wasn’t a boy or girl thing, just a me thing.”
“C’mon, though, wasn’t there ever anybody?”
I think back to my school, the other regulars at the gym, the people on my street. I can only remember a few names. There was definitely nobody that interesting or sweet. “Not really, no. You should talk to my sister Viviann. She loves to run the rumor mill. She can catch you up on everyone’s latest dates.”
Annie rolls her eyes. “I ran into her at school yesterday. She wouldn’t stop gushing about Matt.”
I laugh and nod. “Mark. Yeah, she’s excited. He seems pretty nice, although I haven’t really spent much time around him. She didn’t sound nearly as excited for their first date as she gets now that they’re together. He must’ve really impressed her starting out.”
I pull up in the drive-thru. We stop to place our orders and then to pay for and pick up our milkshakes. Once we’re back on the road to Annie’s house, she resumes the conversation.
“Well then, no guys in your exciting city life. Anybody here tickling your fancy?”
I laugh again. “Tickling my fancy? Really?”
She waves her hand at me, like she’s swatting an imaginary fly. “Catching your eye, whatever. You know what I mean.”
“Eh, not really. I just…not to sound superior or anything, but the guys at school just seem too immature. You know what I mean?”
“I get it. But you can’t tell me you’ve never been interested in anyone.”
A strange thought, a fragment of a thought really, bumps around at that statement. It’s like I…like I’ve forgotten something important. Like when you forget to turn off the oven before you leave the house. For a split second I think of feathers and a golden color—and then it’s gone, before I can remember what the color is. What am I forgetting? Why is my stomach suddenly clenching?
“Beila? Beila. Beila! Red! Red, red, red! Slow down!”
A red light glares down at me through my windshield, too close for the speed we’re going. I shake my head and slam on the brakes, hands tight on the steering wheel. Inertia whips my body forward. I take a deep breath and slide my hands up and down the wheel, loosening my grip.
“Sorry.”
Annie lets out a deep breath, her hands still braced on the dash in front of her. “Are you okay? You just went blank on me there.”
I nod and take another shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I’m more tired than I thought.” I smile, turn on the radio, and put the front windows down. “We’re almost to your house, right?”
Twenty minutes later, I drop Annie off and go home. Dad and Viviann are already in bed, but Damien’s up waiting for me in the living room. I thank him and say good night before we both head to our rooms, him switching off lights as he follows me upstairs. It only takes me a few minutes to brush out my hair, wash off my makeup, and change into my pajamas. Soon I’m lying in bed, exhausted and very much ready for a nice, deep sleep.
When I open my eyes, something is very wrong. It’s dark, but a different kind of dark. A weird, reddish dark. I sit up. I’m dizzy and kind of sore and achy, and I can’t see anything clearly. Everything’s hazy. I can barely open my eyes. I reach up and try to use my fingers to pry them open, but it doesn’t help. It’s like they’re glued shut. Where am I?
I push myself off the hard floor and fall against the wall, leaning against it to keep from toppling over. Slowly, I feel my way along the wall. The little light I can see is a strange, dancing orangish glow, erratic and throbbing with no rhythm or pattern. The walls are cold and rough and damp. When I’m sure I won’t trip or fall from dizziness, I step away from the walls and wipe my hands on my pants. Then I hear a noise, faint and echoing, to my right. I turn and see more walls and orange glowing light, as far down as I can see—which, at the moment, isn’t much. I follow the noise farther and farther, although the path in front of me just seems to grow longer and longer, stretching on forever.
Finally, though, I’ve located the source of the noise. Or at least I’m closer, because it’s still echoing and not quite as faint, but I still can’t tell what the source is. I still can barely see. What’s wrong with my eyes? The noise is on my right, now, and I turn again to find another faintly-outlined orange-glowing path. I begin another long walk.
After several minutes the path turns to the left and I turn with it, feeling very tired and sore. Will I ever find what is making the strange echoes? Will I continue to walk and walk until I’m too tired to walk anymore?
The sound bursts through my mind without warning, clear and loud and close, too close. I recognize it.
I jolt awake, gasping for air and frantically grabbing at the blankets. Shadow, griffin, Louna, Adele, Sophie, garden, village, room—it all comes back to me in flashes.
I forgot.
“What-why? Why did I forget? How did I forget? Oh, I promised!” The room is too hot. I’m so thirsty. My skin is sticky with sweat; the sheets tangle around my ankles. I kick them off. Air. I need air.
I have to go back there. They were screaming. They need me. How could I be so careless? So selfish, so—so stupid! How did this happen?
>
The necklace. I need the necklace. That’s how I get back. I switch on the lamp on my nightstand and shove the papers stacked next to it onto the floor. The necklace isn’t there. I scramble out of bed, letting the blankets fall on the floor with me. One foot stuck in a twisted blanket, I prop my upper body on the floor and push the papers out across the floor to see if the necklace has fallen between any of them. Still no necklace.
I shove myself up to stand and look back at the empty nightstand. It has to be here somewhere. It can’t be gone. I pull out the top drawer and dump it out on the floor. No necklace. The second drawer. Still no luck. I briefly wonder if the necklace disappeared into the tunnel world without me last night, when I was supposed to return. It couldn’t have. Oh, please no.
I grab my jewelry box off my dresser, dumping the contents on the floor. I dig through all my necklaces, but still the bronze bow frame with Shadow’s portrait is missing. Then I remember that I lent Viviann a necklace for a date with Mark. Maybe she borrowed another one, too. It’s my last hope.
I jerk open my door and hurry to open hers, heading straight for her dresser. I can’t see anything in here. I don’t have time for a flashlight. I flip on the light switch and push the door shut. Viv groans and pulls her pillow over her head.
“Ugghhh,” she moans. “Get out!”
“Go back to sleep, I’ll just be a minute!” I hiss while picking up the plastic perfume bottles, tangled heaps of jewelry, and random scattered objects covering Viv’s dresser. Why can’t she ever keep her room clean? Trying to avoid getting my feet tangled in the clothes along the floor, I pull open the drawers of her jewelry box.
There! Tangled with the thin silver necklace I lent her, Shadow’s golden eyes stare up at me. I sigh and grab the necklaces, turning off the light on my way back to my room.
I ignore the mess of jewelry and paper on my floor. When I come back—if I come back—that mess will still be there, waiting for me. This is more important. It takes me a minute to untangle Shadow’s necklace from the silver one. Every minute passing feels like a death sentence. Am I too late?
Finally, the knots in the delicate chains pull free. I drop the silver necklace with the others on the floor and clasp Shadow’s necklace around my neck. My heart pounds, adrenaline beating through my veins, but the magic must still be working. The moment I close the clasp, drowsiness sweeps over my limbs. I crumple to the ground as my room fades from view.
Thirteen
I wake up on the dirt floor of a room. Looking around, I realize this is the room where I started in my first dream. The torches burn lower than during the day, but brighter than the middle of the night. I’m guessing it’s an hour or less until sunrise.
I can hear the griffin’s shrieks. This time, I refuse to run scared. I abandoned Shadow—I abandoned Louna and the village. I literally, completely forgot them. The only way I can ever make that up is by breaking the curse, here and now. Tonight. I can figure this thing out. I can do this.
I run, hard and fast, down the tunnel. Toward the village, toward Shadow’s castle. The dirt on my bare feet is hard-packed and cool. The chilly air seeps through my pajamas. I’m only a third of the way down the twisting path leading to the castle when I realize the shrieks have faded rather than grown louder. What’s going on?
There’s no time. I’m late already. I turn and speed back out of the forbidden tunnel. Yes, the noise is definitely louder out here. And it’s not just an animal.
This is not the sound I grew used to, living here for so many months. No, this is a noise I’ve only ever heard in my nightmares, a sound I never wanted to hear again.
Those are human screams.
A shriek bursts from the pit of my stomach. I flee, I practically fly, toward the garden. The minute I enter, my heart drops. I bite my lips hard to keep from turning and throwing up.
Tattered plants decorate the room, thrown about like dust in a tornado. Shreds of dark green hang across every wall and cooking site, crisscrossing the walking path. The stringy remains of standing foliage look worse than post-hurricane footage from the news. Villagers, physically visible at last, group around the garden entrances or huddle under and behind plants or in corners. Faces twist into expressions of terror, splattered in red. Parents shield their children in their arms. Bodies lean back, pressing against walls, pushing as far from the middle of the room as possible.
In the center of the room, a mass of fur and feathers and muscle rages. The sleek golden feathers I remember are muted and matted with red. Shining claws and teeth fly without caution or care. Huge, beating wings create gusts of wind that send rose petals and carrots scattering. An unearthly, unending cycle of screeching makes my ears throb. Near the creature lie two bodies, villagers I don’t recognize, mutilated and blood-stained and still.
I stand and stare in horror, sure that my face mirrors the terror and heartbreak of the villagers’. I make eye contact with a familiar pair of dark eyes and I jolt into action.
Louna runs toward me, dark hair streaking behind her, right across the griffin’s path.
“No!” The noise rips out of my throat. I lunge forward. The ruined garden blurs in my periphery. I squint against the dirt and dust stirring up in the wind created by the beast. All I can see is a memory of a very still body lying cold and bloody on a dirty mattress, beautiful brown hair tucked out of the way of eyes that will never open again.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I have absolutely no plan as I run toward a real, terrifying monster. All I think is that I cannot let Adele’s child come near that beast.
My legs are longer than her little child’s legs. I reach the griffin before she does. Digging my feet into the ground as I run, I throw myself between her and the animal. She stops running, only a step away from reaching out and touching my back, but finally she’s smart enough to stay put. There, between Louna and the griffin, I stand still, breathing deep and fast and staring at the thing, practically daring it to try and touch the little girl. Or me.
Feral golden eyes lock onto my gaze. The griffin’s thick front claws fall with a shuddering thud to the ground. Its wings fold down, settling into the feathers on its back. It stands only inches away from me, breathing hard, staring directly into my eyes.
The room is silent. Terrorized villagers remain cowering in their hiding places. The dust in the air settles as the monster’s wings remain closed and still. The only sound is the heavy, grunting breathing of the animal in front of me.
I brace myself for the creature’s attack, but it doesn’t come. The thing just continues to stare at me. What now?
I wasn’t prepared for this. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m here, standing in some bizarro nightmare fairy tale world, and I could really use a narrator or fairy godmother telling me what to do.
Then a thought comes to me. It’s stupid. It’s crazy. It’s pointless, childish, unrealistic, unbelievable, and every other kind of terrible out there. But I’m in a standoff with a mythical beast. These are enchanted tunnels existing outside the laws of time, filled with invisible people. I’m standing in an underground magic garden. It may be a stupid plan, but it’s still a plan. I’ll do it.
I step forward, closing the gap between myself and the towering creature that should not exist. Slowly, carefully, I rest one hand on each side of its face. It still doesn’t move. It feels strange, an odd sensation of both feathers and fur, soft and thick and comforting. Not at all fitting with the destruction this creature can cause. I take a deep breath, staring into the griffin’s liquid golden eyes. I lean forward, slowly, holding my breath.
I kiss it. Right there on the beak.
Nothing happens.
Then the beast rears up on its hind legs. Its beak connects with my chin, flipping my head back and throwing me into Louna. I lie there, stunned. I try to ignore the pain, push through it. Louna pushes against me, trying to crawl out from under my body. With an awkward stumble, I stand.
The sta
ring contest is over; my stupid plan has clearly failed. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and grab Louna’s hand. I pull her with me, out of the garden. The other villagers stream out behind us, huddling together against the outer tunnel walls with Louna and me. Now what? I don’t know where to find Sophie, and there’s no time. I turn to Louna, desperate.
“Louna, I have to stop this. Everyone says I’m the only one. But I don’t know what to do. How can I break the curse? Do you know?” I stop and look down at the ground, clinging to Louna’s hand as if a little mute orphan girl can help the teenage girl who’s supposedly her new mom. Then a thought occurs to me. I look back at Louna. “Your mom—Adele, did she ever tell you anything about this? About me, or the curse, or how we connect or how it’s broken—anything at all?”
She nods. Relief tickles my chest. It’s not much, but maybe we can figure something out. If there’s anything at all I can try, then I have to do it. I owe that to Adele, to Shadow, to everyone here. The panic that wells up at me when I realize Shadow’s not here I quickly push back down. I don’t have time for fear, for panic, for worry. I can’t afford to let that take over my self-control right now. I refocus on my questions for Louna.
“So what did she tell you? Can you mime it out for me? Maybe act something out?”
She nods and her eyes brighten a little. Her hand slips out of mine and she crouches to the ground, drawing in the dirt with her finger.
“A girl. Is that your mom? Is that you?” She shakes her head and points at me, then draws a little boxy thing. “A box? A square?” She shakes her head and motions with her hands open in front of her, then points to her eyes and back to her other hand. “Look? See? Um…read? Reading! A book!” Louna nods. We’re getting somewhere. “I need to read a book?” No, she shakes her head. “I read a book?” She nods. I’m so confused. “What book?”
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