“So the Academy wishes to control the Underground, too?” Sam says.
“Seems so,” Turner offers.
An achy sickness whirls through my stomach, giving me cramps.
“Maybe it’s for good, like, to stop their attacks?” Sam stretches for optimism.
“I don’t know, but the more I learn about the Society, the less likely that seems,” I say. “What are we going to do? Where’s Bishop? I need to talk to him.”
Both fidget and refuse to meet my eyes.
“Where is he?” I demand.
“Sera, really, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s late, why don’t you go to bed.” Turner scratches the top of his chest. Something there is missing. Something he’s worn around his neck from the day he took it from me.
“Where’s the rosary necklace?” I hope that he’s only taken it off for the evening, but my gut tells me that’s not the case.
Turner laces his hands behind his head, looks to the ceiling, and blows out a sigh. “The thing is, Sera—”
“No! No! No! Please tell me you did not give the necklace to Bishop!” I’ve spent months preparing to meet Cece and fight her on my own. All I can think about is their last meeting, where Bishop almost died.
“I didn’t,” he says. “I gave it to Terease.”
“You did what?”
“It’s too late. They’re gone—Bishop, Terease, and a small Society army are headed to meet Cece and the Underground.”
“Why would you do that?”
“No matter the Society’s intentions with the crystal, I want to see the Underground’s demise as much as Bishop. I want you to be safe.” He reaches out, comforting me with his warm hands. I want to be mad, but now I understand, he can’t help trying to protect me, too.
“What you wanted to do with the necklace, I’ve known all along. I can’t let you go running into danger like that. I’d kill myself if something happened to you. And for once, Bishop and I agree on something.”
Turner’s been protecting me from, well, me, since he realized what I had been planning all this time—going back, facing Cece, and saving my mom. I give him a weak smile.
Even with everything I’ve learned, what he and Bishop kept from me about Aunt Mona, how everyone’s lied, I realize a small part of me doesn’t blame them. I blame the Society of Wanderers. No matter what side you play for, they’ve manipulated us all.
“So they’re on their way to Rome?”
“No. Even though they never intended to go after the Underground with the rosary relic, the Society did, last week, right after the Underground attacked the Academy. They fought with Cece and the Underground in Rome, but she got away. After that, Terease had to make new plans. Somehow, she arranged a truce meeting with them in Gibeon.”
“Gibeon!” My eyes grow wide. This is my chance to finally rescue my mom. In my heart, I know she’ll be there, too. I run to my room, fling open the oath package, and riffle through the contents, looking for the wandering compass.
I walk back to Sam’s room with it in my hand.
“No way! I know what that is and you’re not going,” Turner says, pointing to the compass.
“Why? I have a whole team here.” I look meaningfully at both of them.
“She knows?” Turner looks to Sam in shock.
“I do.” I grab his hands and squeeze. “I know everything now. I’m sorry it’s turned out this way. I’m sorry Bishop cheated you out of a team.”
He blushes but relief flashes behind his eyes. Something in his demeanor changes. That hardened shell that he’s always hidden behind dissolves in an instant. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you for so long, but I’ve been forbidden.” He hangs his head.
“I understand. It’s not your fault. It’s the Society. I’m just glad Mona did the right thing to protect both of you.” I smile, even though I’m deeply hurt.
“Thank you.” He kisses my hand. “That’s all I ever wanted. To be recognized by you.”
There’s peace in this new understanding. Since I arrived, Turner’s been hidden in the background, wanting nothing more than to get my attention, to be part of a team—our team. I understand him now. I push everything else that’s happened in the last several hours to the back of my mind. I can deal with my emotions, my hatred for the Society later. For now I have to clear my thoughts and find my mom.
“If you don’t come, I’ll go without you.” I hold up the wandering compass.
“I’m in.” Sam stands.
Turner appears less enthused. He crosses his arms and scowls. “Fine,” he relents, “but I need to get some things first. Don’t move until I get back!”
•
Turner takes forever, but when he finally returns, he’s covered in a utility suit of gadgets and weaponry. Contraptions are leather-strapped to his biceps, his thighs, and his belt, layered over a fitted black outfit.
“What the heck are you wearing?” I stifle a laugh. “You look like a steampunk tomb raider.” I look him over. The outfit shows off his muscles, accentuates his broad chest and burly shoulders. I can’t deny its hotness. My face flushes red. I remember our steamy kiss and look away, flustered. I have to remind myself that these are the thoughts I have no control over. My feelings for him and Bishop are artificial.
“You know you like it.” He crosses his arms and flexes his biceps playfully.
“Come on, you two.” Sam drags me out of the room. “The sexual tension around here is making me ill.”
In the living room, we move the furniture against the walls to make way for our exit to Gibeon. Sam and I stand equidistant, each with our own wandering compass in hand. Turner has no compass, so he holds my empty hand. With synchronized precision, Sam and I each rotate our compasses in a complete circle until the speed causes a wicked buzzing sound. The living room blurs, disconnecting with true time, sending the three of us to Gibeon.
::34::
Gibeon
Through a confusing haze, Gibeon comes into view. The city skyline stretches three hundred and sixty degrees around us. We’ve entered via some kind of personal, elevated landing pad.
There are separate landing pads nearby. Wanderers from many different time periods are leaving and arriving.
The landing pad, a pedestal of sorts, descends. When it touches bottom, a staircase rotates, locking into one side. We step down and join the masses of people walking around the enormous city.
To put some kind of label on the architectural style or the inhabitants of the city is impossible. The pedestrians, shop owners, and Society officials walking around are every color, every shape, and wearing every imaginable style of clothing. Some outfits I recognize and can easily place them in their proper time period, but others, I could have never even dreamed. A man flies in, standing on a silver disk shaped like a mini spaceship. Maybe some of these people are from the future—or another planet? At this moment, I can’t be sure.
There are things that I recognize, of course. Buildings that appear ancient but are Roman, Egyptian, Chinese, Indian, or Mayan—and others that are modern. They are from every culture or time in history you can conceive. Still, in the chaos, there’s an undeniable beauty in this melting pot of time, space, and culture—a utopia of compiled existence.
“This place is amazing.” We can’t help but stand frozen, rotating in our spots, taking in everything. Though, taking it all in is impossible. No lecture by Mr. Tash could have explained this place in mere words. Only to see its eclectic landscape is to believe it.
“I don’t even know where to start.” Sam gawks.
An Animate walks past and growls. The mechanical animal has the sinewy body of a lion, the head of a sphinx, and enormous wings. It yelps once before it gallops away, leaps into the opalescent sky, spreads its wings, and swoops away.
When I look to the heavens, there’s a flock of similar beings flying around the city’s tallest building. That building’s structure is that of a ziggurat—box stacked on slightly smaller box, over and o
ver, thousands of feet in the air. The building’s silhouette creates the largest and steepest set of stairs I have ever seen. It’s the Grand Hall.
Speechless, we turn and look at each other, eyes wide.
“This distracts me. I can’t focus…I just want to sit here and watch everything and everyone,” I say.
“I’ve read about it but never, ever imagined,” Turner says, mouth gaping open.
“Sam, can you find Bishop in your mind?”
“They can’t connect here,” Turner responds.
“Why?”
“Because, there’s no need for it. The same rules don’t apply in Gibeon. We’re here in the same time. She’s going to have her own experience. She can’t have her Protector’s, too.”
Testing the theory, Sam squeezes her eyes shut and presses her fingers to her temples, trying to see into Bishop’s mind. “I’ve got nothing,” she says, opening her eyes. “I think he’s right. I should have checked in on him before we left our true time. Maybe it would have worked then.”
“Any idea on how we’re going to find them?” Turner asks.
I pull out my cell phone and dial Bishop. It rings several times. I’m not sure if he’ll answer because he’s probably still mad at me for kissing Turner. But given what he’s done in the past, we should be about even.
“Sera.”
“Hi, we need to chat. Where are you?”
“Yes, we do, but I’m a little busy at the moment.” A clock dongs loudly in the background, drowning out his voice.
“Okay, I’ll call you back later—bye!” I hang up before he has time to respond. I run to the nearest Society official I can find.
“Hi! I’m looking for the clock tower. Can you point me in the right direction?”
“Yes, it’s near the Grand Lodge.” He points off in the distance to the ziggurat.
“Thanks!”
I run. Turner and Sam fall into step next to me.
“How do you know where to go?” Sam asks in a pant.
“I heard the clock dong in the background of his call. It was so loud he had to be standing next to it while he was talking to me. I took a shot asking if there was one in the city.”
We run about a mile before we enter the plaza with the Grand Lodge. Across the plaza stands a clock tower. The clock’s face equally divides in two. On one half sits a beaming sun and on the other, a blue moon. There are no numbers. In a city with no time, there’s only night and day.
I spin, looking for any sign of Terease or Bishop, but the only other living things here are the colorfully painted Animates covering every level of the Grand Lodge.
The nearest one, a woman with three eyes and several arms, wields a long sickle, which she points at me. I believe I’m about to be speared through, but then she points the sword across the way to a building behind the clock tower. Somehow, magically, she knows who I’m looking for.
“You should make an offering,” Sam suggests.
A man peddling flowers walks into the plaza. I run to him, make a quick purchase, and return to the Animate with an offering of red roses. The statue nods and returns to her original pose.
Sam, Turner, and I cross the plaza and enter the building pointed out by the Animate. The building was probably built in the late 1800s. After we enter, I immediately recognize the lush and beautiful interior as a theater.
“Let’s go to the balconies,” Turner says. I nod and Sam and I follow quietly as he leads us up the stairs.
From this height, no one will notice us. There are a few thousand empty seats surrounding an ornately detailed stage. We quietly duck behind seats to watch the meeting that’s already taking place.
On the stage, Terease stands face-to-face with Cece. She’s exactly as I remember her. Her hair, blood red, drips long over her shoulders. Her skin glows white and flawless. In her beauty, there’s evil.
Society soldiers stand behind Terease, ready to attack. Likewise, Cece has brought her own guards. Exeter, her seer, and Cerberus, her Protector, move in line behind her like the vertebrae of a snake, slithering from one spot to the next.
My heart leaps at the sight of my mom. She stands behind them, next to several Underground guards. She looks different than I remember…older, much older than she did before. She’s no longer in a wheelchair—thank goodness. I can’t control the excitement of seeing her again, and pop up to walk toward her. Turner grabs my sleeve and pulls me back to the floor.
“Hold on,” he says. “Stay here for a few moments, and then I’ll help you storm the castle.” Turner takes off, running for who knows where.
Sam and I stay put, watching the exchange. Cece and Terease deliberate for quite a while. We strain to hear but can only make out limited words.
After a while, Turner returns.
“Where have you been?” I scold.
He ignores my question. “Come on, follow me.” Turner takes off, back down the stairs and into the main seating area. Now we’re on the same level as the stage. My mom’s so close now I can hardly stand it. I just want to run to her and pull her into a hug and never let go.
Finally, Cece and Terease meet some kind of impasse, and the conversation takes an annoyed, louder tone.
“Enough of this!” Cece says in dramatic fashion. “We will abandon our attacks only if you give us the crystal!” she yells, obviously annoyed. I sit up a little straighter at the realization that the Underground attacked the Academy and my friends were hurt over the crystal I have in my pocket—the dreamdrive containing the dreams of the entire Underground. That’s what they were looking for.
“We were unable to procure the crystal ourselves, but I have something you may personally find more interesting,” Terease offers.
Cece laughs wickedly. “Terease, oh dear, Terease. I doubt there is anything you could offer in exchange for the souls of five thousand members.”
Terease pulls out a crystal of her own and holds it up.
Cece sucks in a breath. She begins to reach for the crystal and then jerks her hand back delicately. “Is that what I think it is?” She stares at it in amazement.
“It is.” Terease nods.
“Exeter!” Cece yells and snaps her fingers.
The bald man steps forward. He’s dressed in drab monk’s robes, just like the last time I saw him. The Seer only needs to point at the crystal to cause it to rise from Terease’s hand. The crystal tumbles through the air, landing at an airborne spot, right above Exeter’s cupped palms.
“Who do you think it belongs to?” Sam whispers.
I shrug my shoulders.
Exeter’s eyes roll back into his head as he meditates on the object, searching its life path. The crystal dreamdrive burns from within, levitating in a circular motion above him. Rainbows shoot from its core, painting the walls of the theater with radiating prisms. After a few moments, the crystal falls into Exeter’s grasp, and he opens his unseeing eyes.
“To whom does the dreamdrive belong?” Cece asks. She can hardly contain her excitement for whatever she hopes the answer will be.
“Seraphina Parrish,” he says solemnly.
“No!” Many people scream at once. Bishop runs from a side area, where I had not originally seen him. He and my mom rush Exeter, tackling him to the floor. Both are on a path to grab my dreamdrive. An onslaught of chaos and fighting breaks out between Society soldiers and the Underground.
My minds reels, analyzing why the Underground would even accept my dreamdrive as an exchange—one person’s dreams for five thousand people’s dreams. What good would my dreamdrive do them?
Before I can put a coherent thought together, Cece spots me. She jumps from the stage, flying through the air and lands, crushing me. We crumble to the ground. I kick her off, sending her flying away. She lands on her feet, ready to attack once again.
Turner jumps in to protect me. He takes a few swipes at Cece before Cerberus, her Protector dog-beast, appears beside her. The animal’s mouth foams and his fanged teeth snap. He launches his pul
sing muscles at Turner. They roll away, clenched together in their own vicious fight.
Cece and I circle each other, keeping an even distance.
“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” I say.
She laughs. “You forget, we know you better than you know yourself. And when you hand over the Underground’s dreamdrive, we’ll have everything we need. We know you have it.”
I try not to appear shocked that she knows that I have the crystal. I have no idea how she does, but she’ll never get it back. I’ll die first.
“Even after all this time, the Academy keeps so much from you.” She smirks behind her blood red lips. “You’re no better off than the last time we met you,” she sneers.
“Oh, I’m better—much better.” I’ve been waiting for this moment. I breathe deeply and smile. Then I attack.
::35::
A Truce
Our collision comes in an exhibition of power. Cece and I are so evenly matched, it’s as though she can foresee my strikes and I hers. Flip. Kick. Jab. Punch. Roll. I direct a blow to her head and change my mind at the last minute. Instead, I kick her legs out from under her. The new “change-my-mind-at-the-last-minute approach” helps. I gain the upper hand until Cece, I think, applies the same tactic.
Her knuckles crash across my jaw then again across my face. My nose instantly burns with blood. It drips uncontrollably down my lip and over my chin. At the sight, Cece’s hungry eyes look as though they want to devour me. Not me, my blood. She rushes me again. I elbow her ribs, sending her crashing away.
Ricocheting, Cece leaps, soaring over my head, reaching to grab me from behind. I flip her over, throwing her body to the ground and drop both my knees onto her chest. Her ribs break and crush. At the exact same moment, Exeter and Cerberus, who have been fighting their own vicious battles, collapse in my peripheral view.
I pause for a split second at what has happened. Cece, Exeter, and Cerberus—they’re connected, truly connected. To hurt one is to hurt all of them. To kill one may kill them all. I stare down at Cece, thinking I’ll find her in pain, near death with punctured lungs. Instead, her mouth gapes open, and she’s catching the blood dripping from my nose—sucking it like some kind of sick, messed-up vampire.
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