“It’s as good as anything else.” She shrugs.
She doesn’t know the significance of the outfit. I sigh. Sam leaves my room as I change. I shimmy out of my costume, letting everything fall to the floor. I step into a pair of gray leggings, a skirt, t-shirt, and suede jacket.
On my desk sits my oath package. I unlock it, lift the top, and remove my new phone. I shove it in my pocket when Sam returns with a relic.
“Here.” She drops a set of keys into my palm.
“These are Bishop’s house keys.” I turn them over, considering why she’d want me to wander with them.
“You must go there to see, and you have to leave now, before anyone finds out what I’ve done.”
“Just tell me, please.”
“Trust me, Sera. If I had known what I know now, I would have told you so much sooner. You need to see it for yourself.”
“Fine.”
We climb out Sam’s window and down the leafy vines that wind around the walls of the Academy’s facade. Society soldiers dressed in plain clothes stand at the entrance, but they seem more worried about who wants to come in, rather than which students are sneaking out.
There’s a crisp autumn chill in the air. I pull my jacket closed as Sam and I make our way to the center of the courtyard, next to the obelisk. Only the city continues to move. Taxis and cars fly past the nearest streets. All the others in the school, including the teachers, are still enjoying the festivities.
“Do you have the relic?”
“Yes.” I hold up Bishop’s keys.
“You’ll repeat this as your keyword to travel to London: ‘August, twenty-five, this year, three o’clock.’”
She’s just confirmed what I know is coming, I’m going to London, the day I visited Bishop over summer vacation. I nod, a little sad for the tears I know are coming. There’s a good possibility my life will get worse, but how, I can’t even comprehend.
“August, twenty-five, this year, three o’clock.” I say the keywords out loud and grasp the keys. Then I say the phrase in my mind, letting the numbers swirl through my head, injecting them into my soul. I bolt, leaving Sam behind as I run across the courtyard, feet pounding the grass. I pump my arms, pushing them farther, until I hear the familiar rumble. The ground shakes, buildings crack in half, grass rips, the city rolls up into the sky behind me like a carpet, blocking the twinkling stars and the breeze off Lake Michigan. The land finally races down from the sky and slams me into a time-traveling wormhole.
I launch feet first into inky nothingness. Colors of the night swirl and ripple, increasing into light. My feet land on firm ground in a running stop. Cobblestone streets wrap around a neighborhood of Victorian homes and flats. This is Chelsea, London. Bishop’s home stands fifty feet away. With shaky determination, I walk to the front door.
Instead of using the keys, I knock on the door. If Bishop answers, he’ll have no knowledge that I’ve betrayed him to Turner yet. Where I am in time now is weeks before that event ever takes place. I relax my shoulders and try not to appear guilty, not to appear as though I know our love has been tainted.
The door creaks open. Thirteen-year-old Charlotte, Bishop and Turner’s little sister, stands at the door. Her face, fresh with youth, sparkles pretty as a peach. Her strawberry-blonde hair hangs to her shoulders, and her eyes shine with recognition, even though I have never met her before.
“Sera!” She giggles with delight and pulls me into a hug. “However did you get here?” She squeals and drags me down the hall. Bishop told me that she’s a Normal and so far she hasn’t shown signs of becoming a Wanderer. She doesn’t know how lucky she is.
“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood.” I make a joke. It’s the easiest way.
“Mum,” she calls. “You aren’t going to believe who’s here!” She drags me into the main living area.
“Who, darling?”
I stop in my tracks when I see Aunt Mona standing at the kitchen counter, cutting carrots. Mona looks up, her face draining of blood as her eyes meet mine, and she slices her finger with the knife. Apparently she’s as surprised as I am. I spin around, looking for anyone else in the room, but there’s only Mona.
“Oh, blast!” She holds up one finger, beginning to drip blood, and sticks it in her mouth.
“Mum, are you all right?” Charlotte runs to her aid.
“Yes, but why don’t you run and fetch me a plaster from the medical,” she says in an unfamiliar British accent.
Charlotte runs off on her errand. I’m thankful she doesn’t see my face as she leaves.
When the sound of her steps disappear up the stairs, I turn to Mona and hiss, “What the hell is going on, Mona? Why is Charlotte calling you ‘Mom’?” A tear escapes.
Mona frantically sweeps forward, ready to gather me into a hug. Is she really going to try to console me? I lunge away from her, too angry to let her touch me. I back up to a nearby wall, to keep a safe distance.
“Sera, oh, I knew this day would come, but I didn’t know it would be here so quickly. Who told you? How did you know?”
“I didn’t.” My lips tremble. Somehow Sam knew. She wanted me to see. Mona is Bishop and Turner’s mom.
“How? Please tell me Bishop is not my cousin,” I blurt, gripping my stomach to hold in the disgust that roils there.
“No, of course not!” She takes off her apron and tosses it on the counter. She sighs and holds her hand to her head, massaging the skin as though she has a headache.
Charlotte returns. “Here ya go.” She hands Mona a bandage and lingers nearby.
“Love,” Mona says to Charlotte, “I’d like very much to talk with Sera, alone. Do you think you could leave for a bit?”
“But—but—that’s not fair,” she whines. “I want to talk with her too. I want to hear about the States.” She pouts and crosses her arms.
“How about we ask Sera to stay for dinner and you can question her to death then?” She runs a hand through the girl’s hair and pinches her chin lovingly.
“All right,” Charlotte concedes and runs off, up the stairs.
Mona sighs and turns her gaze back to me. “Sorry, she’s wanted nothing more than to meet you with Bishop talking about you all the time, showing her pictures of you. I think she’s a little jealous of the boys going to the Academy in the States.” She gives me a strained smile.
I don’t even know how to look at Mona, what to say, what to do. I want to run away and never see her face again. I want to lash out and make her hurt as much as I do. But all I can do is stand here, too stunned to react.
“Why don’t we sit?” Mona gestures to the sofa and chair. This house is different, not decorated in the usual eclectic Mona way. It’s Normal. I waver, unsure about what to do. Stay or go? Cry or fight?
Mona slips past and sits. I stay put, plastered against the wall, still undecided on how to react.
“As a mother, I had to make a difficult decision a very long time ago,” she starts, staring out the window. “The boys weren’t even born yet, but I knew I was having twins. I kept it a secret for as long as I could, hoping there would be some way to save both of them.” She looks over, her eyes wavering. Her hands twist in her lap, the way they always do when she’s nervous. “So, when the Society came for my babies, for one of them, I made a deal.”
“What—what do you mean, ‘came for one of them’?” I ask, voice trembling.
“Twins, Sera, are not sanctioned by Society laws. One must die to ensure the seamless life of a Wanderer for the other. Two Protectors on one team cannot exist without consequences.”
“They’d kill one of them?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ridiculous! How would they even know as babies that they’d turn? They could have been Normal!”
“True, but the Society doesn’t function under possible unknowns. They like everything very neatly tied up. And it’s been this way for thousands of years.”
I can’t even fathom that what she’s saying is real.
Who could kill a baby?
“What was the deal you made to save them?” I croak. I don’t even want to know what awful thing they’d force her do to save her children. After the last hour, I hate everything about the Society.
“At the time, I told them I’d do anything. They agreed to spare the twins but told me they would come back when they needed help. And whenever and whatever that was, I could not refuse.
“Naturally, I was scared of what they would want. The thought terrified me for months. I hoped it would be years before they came back, but the boys were very young when the Society returned. Your mother had just passed away, and the only thing they requested was that I play the part of your aunt.”
I want to say, “Mom didn’t die, Mona,” but I keep the truth hidden. At this moment, I don’t trust anyone anymore. Everything that I’ve forced myself to believe all of my life is crumbling into nothing.
Mona continues. “Back then, it seemed such a simple request for saving one of my boys. With your father being a Normal, the Society simply wanted me to watch over you on occasion. I did it without hesitation, never considering that it might somehow hurt you. Acting as your aunt was an easy transition because your mom had always introduced me as her sister. She’d even introduced me as her sister to your father long ago. It was the easiest way to explain our close relationship to the Normals. You see—your mom was my Wanderer.”
“Your Wanderer? You told me a girl named Ann was your wanderer!”
“Yes, Eliza Ann.”
Ann—my mom’s middle name. Mona had told me as much as she could without giving too much away.
“There’s so much more that I can’t even tell you. I’m so sorry I deceived you, Sera.” Mona glances at me, tears in her eyes. Her mouth pulls into a frown. “Nothing’s changed. I still love you as though you’re one of my own children.” She stands and reaches for me.
I step away, just out of her reach. I want to believe her, but right now I can’t believe anyone.
The front door unlocks, creaking open. I turn to see who’s come home. Bishop’s dad, maybe? Mona’s husband? I can’t even imagine who it’ll be next.
::31::
Unravel
I hear his voice before I see him. But it’s not Bishop’s voice that makes me stiffen; it’s Perpetua’s.
“Do you think it’ll work?” she asks him.
“Yes, I believe it might be the key for all of us,” Bishop responds.
I look around the corner and see the two standing at the door, facing each other, gazing into Perpetua’s palm. They’re inspecting something.
My heart stops, seeing them so close, so obviously friendly. The emptiness inside me sucks into a pit, a black hole, which nearly causes me to choke with suffocation.
They don’t look up until I’ve descended on them. I’m so angry; I swipe what’s in Perpetua’s hand, stealing the object. Pushing between them, I run out the front door, descend the stairs, and around the corner. Bishop’s house disappears, and I speed down the cobblestone street, zigzagging across many side roads.
Bishop and Perpetua chase, falling into step behind me. In many places, they appear out of nowhere as though they’re impossibly popping in and out of time. They call my name, begging me to stop, but I ignore them. When I find a busy street of people, I launch in, disappearing in the madness.
Hours later, after I’ve lost them, I duck into an alley and lean against a brick wall. I’m crying, I’m sweating from running, and I’m an emotional mess. Tears fall until there’s nothing left in my system. Emptiness. I have no choice who I love, who I am, who my extended family is, and now with everything that Bishop’s done, I find him with Perpetua. I just can’t take any more. I hate the Society and everything that my life has become.
I open my hand, revealing what I’ve stolen. Pricks of blood dot my skin from holding the crystal’s jagged edges too tightly. This is the crystal that Perpetua accused me of taking. I don’t know what it is, why it’s so important, or even why I took it in the first place. Jealousy, probably. I wanted to hurt her for hurting me. The rock means something to Bishop too, and by taking it, I’ve somehow hurt him.
I turn it over. It vaguely reminds me of some crystal rocks I saw in Professor Raunnebaum’s laboratory, but I never asked what they were. I tuck it into my pocket and decide to keep moving. If I stay, Bishop and Perpetua will certainly find me.
I wander the streets of downtown London for another hour, just thinking. Thinking of everything that’s wrong with my life: the way the Society manipulates us, how they take everything and pretend to give us the world. But they don’t give you the things that matter—truth and love. They create a life for you and manipulate it, nurture the lies, and shove them down your throat. For weeks I’d been beating myself up, trying to protect Bishop from the knowledge of Turner flirting with me, from my advanced fighting abilities, and from meeting Cece again. All the while, he’s had his own secrets—many of them.
“Bishop!” I hear someone call. At first I duck behind a crowd of people, certain that he and Perpetua have found me, but then I hear the voice again.
“Bishop!” I turn my head. It’s me—the old me. I’ve collided with my past self, the one who came here weeks ago during summer vacation to find Bishop with the love letter relic. The old me stands, hoisted on a clock tower, the one that looks like a miniature version of Big Ben.
When she spots me, I see the recognition in her eyes, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Everything is playing out exactly the way it did before.
Confused, I run across a street. Cabbies scream past, barely missing me by inches. Something in my gut tells me to get away. I head in the direction everyone’s moving. Victoria Station sits just ahead. I weave through the people, squeezing into the front doors. I linger, surveying all the directions I can run and hide.
The old me appears in the door. I run. She follows, mirroring my actions, several seconds behind.
I head toward the trains, going underground. When I jump on the tube, she rushes in on the opposite side of the car. Maybe I should confront myself? Explain all that’s happened. No. I can’t. Not yet. I think of what’s coming for her today, her last perfect date with Bishop. I’m too selfish to alter the memory, even with how upset I am with him.
The train bobbles through a few stops, and I jump out at the Embankment station. My old me follows. That’s when I take out my new cell phone and make a quick call to Bishop’s cell.
“Cleopatra’s Needle,” I say into the phone when he answers.
“Sera! What number is this? Wait there. I’m coming!”
I hang up before he says any more.
I lead the old me to the waterfront. I step onto the Cleopatra’s Needle monument, then turn and lean against the base. I inspect the crystal while I’m waiting for my old self to appear. I consider tossing it into the Thames River, letting it sink and wash away with the murky green water. I extend my arm, preparing to hurl it through the air, but I stop myself right before it leaves my hand. I’m too curious to let it go. It means something, and I have to find out what. I sit down and turn it over in my hands. The tears start again. I can’t help myself.
“Sera!” Bishop yells. I look up. My old self has appeared. She turns and looks behind her. Bishop stands, staring at her. His eyes drift to me. I see he quickly understands what’s happened. One girl is his present Sera and the other is his future Sera.
The old me runs and pulls him into an embrace. They melt into each other. She’s so happy. I want to be that naive girl again. Somehow, I envy her.
Stepping around the obelisk, I peek around the corner as they embrace. His eyes rise to mine, lingering on my sad, tear-soaked face. His expression says it all. He’s sorry.
I nod, but not as an acceptance of an apology, just as recognition that he knows he’s in the wrong. The two lovers embracing will move on from their moment as though nothing’s happened. They’ll have a few wonderful nights together and then in a few weeks their world will tu
rn into contrived crap.
There’s enough room to run along the Thames and wander back home to Sam. It seems she’s the only one I can trust now.
::32::
Dreamdrive
“How long have you known?” I ask Sam as I walk into her bedroom and shut the door. I’m back on true time at the Academy.
“I’ve been piecing it together since the dinner with your family,” she says, looking up from her cello. The music stops, and she gracefully rises and places the instrument on a stand in the corner. She turns and gives me a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers in my ear.
“How did you know?”
“I saw Mona in Bishop’s mind when we were at dinner with your dad. He couldn’t help but reminisce about family memories. He really misses her. And I know he’s had a heavy heart for not being able to share it with you. He’s been forbidden, given the circumstances. Not long after I pieced it together, I confronted him.” She steps away and sits on the edge of the bed, her long legs sweeping out in front of her.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“He made me promise. And it’s not like he doesn’t love you Sera, he does. So does Mona. Of course, I can see the truth in his mind. You must never let on to the Society that you know—not ever. Who knows what they’re capable of doing to them?” She stands and paces, clearly upset by the thought.
“Then he told you about Mona’s deal to keep him and Turner safe?”
She nods and looks away.
“It’s not right, Sam—what they’re doing. The Society’s manipulated my whole life, Mona’s life, all our lives! How are we supposed to know what’s real now? Will anything ever be?” We sit on the bed. I’m weary and drained of energy.
“How was London?” she asks, changing the subject.
“About as wonderful as you would expect.” Then I have a thought. I pull out the crystal and hold it in my palm. “So, what’s the deal with this? Any ideas?”
Sam stiffens. “Is this Perpetua’s?”
“Bingo.”
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