“You took this from her in London?” She scrunches her face.
“What?” Oh crap, there’s more.
“Remember how you made me promise not to tell anyone about your mom being alive?” She grits her teeth.
I nod, not exactly sure where this is going.
“I kept my promise, kind of.”
“Sam!”
“I tried, I really did. In fact, I never said anything. Bishop saw it in my mind! I’m so sorry, Sera. It was a few weeks after the incident. Please don’t hate me, I couldn’t help but think about it. And Bishop just showed up in my mind one day when I did.”
“And?”
“Well, he’s kind of been looking for her all these months.”
“What?”
“Bishop’s been doing it for you. He would do anything for you, Sera.” She grabs my hand.
There’s a spark of happiness that I can’t exactly explain. Bishop’s been helping me look for my mom in his own way, all this time. But then I realize my happiness is fake. My love for Bishop is not real; it’s a fabricated lie.
Sam starts again. “Bishop sought out Perpetua’s help. Through Terease he arranged an exchange for Perpetua and her team’s return to the Academy for information on Cece and the Underground’s whereabouts—”
“Which would lead to my mom!”
“Exactly,” Sam nods. “I think this crystal was part of the trade. Perpetua took it from Cece, hoping it would act as a bargaining chip to come back to school. She needed to convince Terease she was worthy. Ever since you took the crystal, Perpetua’s been looking for it. She wouldn’t be able to stay at the Academy without the trade. Terease gave her a deadline to find it. That’s why she’s been on your case.”
“How long have you known about that?” I glance at her.
“Not long. They wanted to try to keep you out of it, to stop you before you took the crystal, but they didn’t know when you were going to steal it. I guess we know now.”
“Why didn’t they just send someone to get it?”
“They tried. Apparently a million times, but the timing was never right. Except once. Perpetua fought you for it. The night you hurt your back.”
I gasp. “That was her?” I think back to that rainy night in London when Bishop and I were attacked. “That witch, I should have known she would rip my skin off for it. She attacked the wrong me! I didn’t have the crystal yet. Stupid girl!”
I shake off my anger and refocus on the matter at hand.
“What is it?” I wonder out loud, as I hold the crystal to the light.
“I think it’s a hard drive for a contrapulator. Turns out that the Society not only makes us listen to classes at night, but they steal our dreams, too. They’re stored on something just like this.” She points to the crystal.
I jump up and head for Sam’s contrapulator. Just like mine, the machine sits on her bedside table. The mishmash of metal components resembles a clock that’s been flipped inside out. When turned on, a black screen shows green brain waves that jump and ripple.
I tip the machine forward and sure enough, there’s a crystal inserted into the back, just like a removable hard drive. I tug on it. It clicks, slowly releasing. I shouldn’t be surprised that this machine does more than it appears to. Holding both crystals, I compare the two.
Sam joins me. “Perpetua’s crystal is larger. A little different, but this certainly must be the same thing. Maybe I should meditate on it?” she asks.
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” I hand her both.
Sam settles on the floor with her legs tucked to one side underneath her. Her eyes shut, and she cradles Perpetua’s crystal in her cupped palms. Sam’s as stunning as a sleeping swan, long necked, and beautiful. Seconds later, the crystal glows from within. Slowly, it lifts, hovering until it’s parallel with Sam’s eyes. The rock rotates haphazardly, spinning on no particular axis. Rainbows shoot from the core, projecting onto the walls, glittering like a disco ball. For a while, Sam’s face never reveals anything other than serenity, and then she winces. Her face sours in pain, and she violently catapults away from the relic. It drops with a thump at the same time Sam’s body smashes into the far wall.
I run to her, grabbing her face in my palms. “Sam! Wake up!” She’s out cold. What’s happened? “Sam!” I yell louder, shaking her, hoping that I can break through.
The bedroom door slams open. “What’s wrong?” Turner rushes into the room, out of breath, his face red and sweaty from running. He must have been nearby, sensed my fear, and came looking for us. Gently, he gathers Sam’s lifeless body into his arms and places her carefully on her bed. He inspects her with the expertise of a physician. “She’ll be okay, I think. She’s breathing. I’ll have to run and get the nurse. What happened?” He starts to walk away.
“She was just meditating on a relic. Out of nowhere, it blew her across the room. She hit the wall pretty hard. I don’t even know what happened!” I say, panicked.
“What relic?”
I run and grab it from the floor, bringing it back for Turner’s inspection.
“Where did you get this?”
“It’s—it’s a long story.”
His brow arches, but he doesn’t push it. “It’s a dreamdrive, but not one of the Academy’s. It’s too large. Where did you get it?”
“Perpetua,” I admit, dropping my gaze to the floor.
“So this is it. What they’ve been looking for, isn’t it?”
Sam moans and grabs her head. We rush to the bed.
“I saw them, all of them,” she says.
“Saw who?” Turner asks.
“The Underground.”
::33::
Motives
“The Underground—every single member. All of their dreams are compiled onto the crystal hard drive.” Sam sits up, holding both hands to her head. “It was too much information to contemplate. It blasted me out of my meditation.”
“Why would the Academy want that?” I turn to Turner.
“The same reason they want to store every student’s dreams, Sera,” he says. “Once you know someone’s hopes, dreams, and fears, you can control and manipulate them.”
“So this is how they do it? How they always know the perfect thing to bribe us with?” I think of my perfect room, my perfect clothes, the perfect parties; everything was chosen, knowing that I would love it. I always knew it was too good to be true.
“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 over, 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 t
o 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.
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