by Amanda Gray
“I’m not stupid!”
“I know that,” he said. “So don’t start now, okay?”
He stared into her eyes. She wanted to be mad. To ridicule his worry. But he was right, and she knew it.
“Okay?” he repeated.
She sighed, nodding. “Okay. Just give me one more minute.”
Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she lifted it up above the retaining wall.
“Now what are you doing?” Ben could hardly contain his impatience.
“Taking some pictures.” She tried to get at least one of each panel as she talked, adding a few of the grounds for good measure.
“Well, hurry up so we can get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
She was about to blow off his caution when something moved toward the front of the compound. Lowering the phone, she peered into the darkness, wondering if she had imagined it.
But no. They were three men, two in robes and one in a suit, coming toward her and Ben. Looking right at them. The suit looked particularly intent with piercing gray eyes beneath a crop of closely cut silver hair.
“Great,” Ben muttered, already standing. He grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
He pulled her forward and she stumbled as she stuffed the phone back in her pocket. They crashed through the old leaves that blanketed the forest floor, staying near enough to the retaining wall that they wouldn’t lose their way. Every second Jenny braced herself for the moment when the men would come bursting through the trees to apprehend them.
They were nearly out of the wooded area surrounding the property when Ben gave her arm a ferocious tug. She almost fell as they tumbled onto the gravel drive.
“Hurry,” Ben said, slightly out of breath.
They jogged down the driveway leading to the main road. When Jenny felt like they’d put enough distance between them and the men, she dared a look back, wanting to see how close they were to being caught.
The men were there, right at the top of the drive. But they weren’t running. They were just standing, arms folded, watching Jenny and Ben make their escape as if it was no big deal.
Like they knew exactly who Jenny and Ben were. And exactly where to find them.
* * *
Other than a few inventive variations on curse words, Ben didn’t say much as they careened too fast down the mountain. He kept checking the rearview mirror, expecting to find the men in pursuit.
“They’re not going to follow us,” Jenny finally said.
“Really?” Ben glared at her before turning his attention back to the road. “Do you know that the same way you knew they weren’t going to see us? That we weren’t going to get caught? I think I’d just as soon play it safe. The last thing we need is for them to follow us home.”
“Did you notice how they just stood there? Like they could come for us any time they want? Like they already know who we are?”
He shook his head. “How would they know that?”
“I don’t know.”
He didn’t say anything, and Jenny spent the rest of the ride home replaying everything that had happened, trying to figure out what kind of sect needed such a private compound. Was it a cult? And had her mother been a part of it somehow?
She was relieved when Ben pulled into her driveway. She was losing it. She needed to get ahold of herself.
“I’m sorry.” Ben’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“For what?”
“For … flipping out on you back there.” He pulled the truck to a stop behind her dad’s SUV. “The music box was one thing, but all this other stuff? The monks and the ring and the symbol? It just feels … off to me.”
She turned her body sideways to face him. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! It is off.”
“Maybe I didn’t phrase that right.” The light from the porch glimmered off the small stud on his brow. “It feels more than off. It feels dangerous.”
It felt dangerous to her, too. If she were being honest with herself, it had felt that way since the beginning. But now Ben was saying it out loud. Giving credence to something she’d been able to label as paranoia in the privacy of her own mind.
She took a deep breath. “Okay, but even if it is dangerous, it has something to do with my mom and the music box, which is also connected to you.”
“We don’t know that.”
“I do. And I can’t just turn my back on that, Ben.”
“It’s not enough, Jenny.”
“Not enough for what?”
He shook his head, turning to look out into the darkness beyond the window.
“Not enough for what?” she pressed.
“Not enough to justify us fooling around with something we don’t understand!” His voice was an almost shout.
Anger built inside her, rising and rising until all the confusion and frustration she’d never been able to express just boiled over.
“Look, you can hide all you want, but I need to find out what this has to do with my mom. What this has to do with me and the weird dreams I’ve had my whole life. Dreams like the one we had in your attic except I don’t need a music box to have them and I’m usually stuck in them alone.” Tears, as much frustration as sadness, stung her eyes as she pulled the lever on the car door. “I can’t even touch someone.”
“Wait a minute.” He grabbed her hand, his grip scratchy against the fabric of her gloves, and pulled her back into the car. “What are you talking about?”
She looked at him. It was too late to go back now.
“You know why I wear gloves all the time? It’s because I see things when I touch people. I don’t know why I see what I see or what it means, but it’s been happening my whole life, and for a long time, I’ve just lived with it, if you can call it that. I avoid touching people and try not to think too hard about it. But now I’m starting to feel like there’s a reason I see stuff, and the fact that it happened with the music box and the monks are trying to get it … I don’t know, Ben.” She thought of the guy named Nikolai. Of his place in her dreams, and now, her real life. “Something’s happening. I need to know what it is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.
“It’s not exactly casual conversation. ‘Hey, how are you? Guess what? I see weird things even when I’m wide awake.’”
“So tell me now,” he said.
She looked at him a long time before she nodded.
She told him everything. The visions she’d had since she was a child. How they were always full of sadness or loss. How she had to hide it even from her dad because she didn’t want to worry him. She left out nothing but the recent appearance of Nikolai. She couldn’t explain his presence to herself yet, let alone to anyone else.
Ben was silent for a long minute after she finished talking.
“Do you think you could be psychic or something?” he finally asked. “I believe in that stuff. I mean, I’ve heard of people who can see the future, find people who are lost … that kind of thing.”
“But I don’t even recognize the people or places I’m seeing, and most of the time, it looks like I’m somewhere in the past.”
His eyes found hers through the darkness. “Like in the dream we had with the music box?”
She nodded.
“Well, I can see why you’d think it’s all tied together,” he admitted.
“Exactly,” she said. “That dream—the one we shared?—it was so much like the visions I’ve had my whole life. And for the first time, I feel like I’m close to something that might help me understand it all.”
“Okay, Jenny.” He hesitated. “I just … ”
“What?”
“I guess I’m worried about you.” He laughed a little, like he couldn’t believe it.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She smiled a little. “And I appreciate it, but I’ve been taking care of this stuff by myself for a long time now. I’ll be fine.”
He nodded,
but he didn’t seem convinced.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m going to see if are any clues in the pictures from the retreat center. Maybe if I blow them up, something will be there that we didn’t notice before. I have to work tomorrow but I’ll try to check in with you before my shift.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “And speaking of work, my mom got the job at Books. Thanks for that.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome. I’m glad it worked out.” She scooted to the door on the passenger side, turning back to him at the last minute. “And Ben?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you, too.”
* * *
Her dad was in his office working on the Daulton budget when she came in. She said a quick hello and headed to her room.
She changed into sweats and a loose T-shirt. Her eyes were drawn to the painting of the train track, or more specifically, the shadowy figure still standing at the edge of it. She flashed back to her conversation with Nikolai at the Farnsworth house. His assertion that they knew each other, the veiled reference to a past she had only dreamed, should have seemed crazy.
But even now in the familiar surroundings of her real-life room, it didn’t.
Nikolai was a part of everything that was happening, too. She didn’t know how he fit in with the other stuff, but she needed to figure it out. To put some kind of order to all the disparate pieces colliding in her mind.
Getting an idea, she grabbed a notebook and pen, propping herself against her headboard. She started with the things she knew, following them to their natural conclusions until she hit a roadblock.
MOM’S RING > RETREAT SYMBOL > MOM PART OF MONASTERY?
GUY IN DREAMS > GUY IN PAINTINGS > NIKOLAI?
MUSIC BOX > DREAM WITH BEN > VISIONS FROM CHILDHOOD?
BEN?
Ben’s name stared back at her, the question mark sitting there like a big blinking sign. Ben had to play a part in the mystery, too. Otherwise, why had he been in the dream they’d had in his attic?
She stared at the list, willing it all to coalesce into something she could get her head around, but the words just stared back at her until she closed the notebook with a frustrated snap. Tossing it on the floor, she turned out her light. She was grateful for the darkness. She willed her mind to go dark too.
She lay there for a long time, thinking about all the unanswered questions and the guy named Nikolai, wondering, just before sleep claimed her, if she would dream about him again.
EIGHTEEN
She waited a long time, wanting to be sure Ana was asleep, before she threw back the bedcovers. Ana was a sound sleeper, though this was only one of many obstacles Maria faced on her way to the private sitting room at the end of the hall.
She left her feet bare, not wanting the scuff of her slippers to draw attention to her escape. She avoided looking at her sister as she crept past her bed, as if this would prevent Ana from hearing her.
She stopped when she came to the door, placing her ear against it and listening. The guards were more lackadaisical in this wing, focusing instead on Mama and Papa. Perhaps they thought it unlikely that the children would try to escape on their own.
And they were right, for Maria had shunned more than one opportunity to make an escape. This despite the terror that seemed to live inside her now, day after day, as the guards became harsher, the family’s provisions more spare.
She listened carefully for the steady boot steps or muffled laughter of the guards, but all was quiet. This was no guarantee, of course. A guard could be asleep or playing a silent round of cards with one of his comrades.
But seeing Nikolai had become necessary. She found that she could get through anything if she knew when they would next be together. He was a lifeline. She had to hold fast to him no matter the consequences.
She waited a few minutes, knowing that the guards sometimes patrolled at intervals. No sound came from the hall and she eased open the door, peering through the crack before opening it wider.
Now that the door was open, she had to move quickly. She stepped into the hall, shutting the door softly behind her, and hurried toward the room at the end of the hall that was her and Nikolai’s meeting place.
She passed the governesses’ chamber as well as those of Olga and Tatiana and Alexei, finally reaching the sitting room unseen. She stepped inside quickly, closing the door behind her with a soft sigh of relief.
It took a moment to get her bearings. She looked around, taking in the two sofas near the fireplace, the fringed lamps and heavy curtains pooling at the windows, the piano against one wall.
“You’ve made it.” She was not startled by the whispered words. She would know Nikolai’s voice anywhere.
Nikolai stepped carefully out of the shadows. Even in the little light that managed to seep in through a crack in the curtains—light that came from spotlights that remained on all night rather than the moon—Maria saw the tension in Nikolai’s face, the worry in his eyes.
He came toward her. She met him in the middle of the room, walking into his arms, inhaling the clean scent of him, relishing the safety he brought with his presence. It was an illusion. She knew that even Nikolai and his love for her couldn’t save her if the worst were to happen. But she took it nonetheless, for what else did she have?
“Maria … ” He breathed her name, holding her tight before he pulled away and reached for her hand.
He led her behind one of the couches, pulling her to her knees in front of him so the guards wouldn’t see them if the door were opened for a quick inspection.
As soon as they were kneeling face-to-face, he kissed her. His mouth was urgent on hers, as if he were trying to drink her in before she disappeared. She returned his kisses without thought to propriety. Without thought to anything but him. It was only here, only with Nikolai that she felt safe, that she felt hope.
She felt the effort it took for him to pull away. He placed his hands on her face, studying her as if to be sure that she was whole and safe and really in front of him. “Are you alright? Have you come to any harm since we last met?”
She shook her head. “I’m alright. They are watching us very closely. More closely than ever. I might not be able to meet you again for a while.”
She was not worried about her own fate should she be caught sneaking around the palace. What could they—what would they—do to a helpless young girl caught wandering unattended?
But she had heard the hatred with which some of the guards spoke her father’s name when they talked among themselves and she feared the scrutiny such an incident would bring her family.
Nikolai nodded, his face grave. “Things are getting worse. Bolshevik sentiments are running high. They blame the Romanov family for everything. There are a few among them who speak of sending you into exile unharmed, but the more … extreme elements are not satisfied with the idea.”
Maria soaked in the information, piecing it together with what she had managed to gather on her own. Her father was insistent that their lives remain as normal as possible, even as they seemed to have fewer and fewer necessities and the rooms they occupied in the Winter Palace grew colder and colder. Still, Father forced Maria and her sisters and Alexei to focus on their studies, refusing to speak of the war that seemed closer to their doorstep with each passing day. What she knew came from whispered conversations overheard as she passed from room to room and from the actions her own mother had ordered Maria to take with her sisters in preparation.
“It all makes sense,” she murmured.
“What makes sense?” Nikolai asked.
“Just yesterday Mama told us to sew jewels into our clothing. She and Papa must be planning escape. Or exile.”
Nikolai opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it before trying again. “Please, Maria. Let me go to your father and beg him to let us flee together. I know people, have contacts here in the palace that could help us escape.”
“Then why not help all of us escape?” she asked, t
oo loudly.
Nikolai looked toward the door before turning back to her. “Sneaking one girl out of the palace is possible with the right connections. But spiriting away an entire family? A Tsar under constant guard? A sickly boy?” Maria winced at the mention of her little brother. Nikolai shook his head. “I’m sorry, Maria. It would be the death of us all.”
Her shoulders sagged, a now-familiar wave of resignation seeping through her bones. “I will not leave without them.”
A sound came from across the room and they both ducked beneath the back of the sofa just as the door was opened. Maria held her breath.
“Maria? Are you in here, Maria?” a voice whispered across the room.
Maria breathed a sigh of relief, rising. “What are you doing here, Ana? You’ll get us both in trouble.”
“The guards are patrolling every ten minutes,” she said softly. “They just completed the tour of this wing.” Nikolai rose next to her. Ana’s gaze drifted to him before she continued. “You should come back now.”
“Come in and shut the door.” Maria had suspected her sister knew of her trysts with Nikolai but hadn’t been sure until this moment. She turned to Nikolai. “I must go.”
“I know.” He pulled her into his arms. They enveloped her totally and completely, blocking out her sister’s presence only feet away. He looked down into her eyes. “I love you, Maria. I want to protect you. Think about what I said. Let me get you out of here.”
“I … I don’t know.” She couldn’t think. Everything was happening too fast. “I must go.”
“Just think about it,” he said. “You can send me word through Igor.”
Maria nodded. “What if they move us?”
Nikolai bent to kiss her. “It doesn’t matter. Wherever they send you, whatever happens, I will find you. I will always find you.”
NINETEEN
Jenny sat up in bed, the late morning sunlight streaming through her curtains. There was only a second of disorientation before she was up, throwing on shorts and a tank top and running down the steps and out the front door, her feet still bare.