"Not much of a bridge." Link looked skeptical.
"Only one way to find out." I walked ahead of them.
As we picked our way across rotting boards and oyster shells, I found myself slipping over and over. I was there, and I wasn't. In and out. One minute, I could hear Ridley's and Link's voices echoing as they bickered. The next, the fog blurred around the edges, and I was pulled back into visions of Macon's past. I knew there was something I was supposed to gain from the visions, but they were coming so quickly now it was impossible to figure out.
I thought about Amma. She would have said, "Everythin' means somethin'." I tried to imagine what she would have said next.
P. O. R. T. E. N. D. Seven down. As in, you be sure to pay attention to the what now, Ethan Wate, because that's gonna point the way to the what's next.
She was right, as usual -- everything did mean something, didn't it? All the changes in Lena would have added up to the truth, if I had been able to see it. Even now, I tried to piece together my glimpses of the visions, to find the story they were trying to tell.
I didn't have time, though, because as we reached the bridge, I felt another surge, the walkway started to sway, and Ridley's and Link's voices faded --
The room was dark, but Macon didn't need light to see. The shelves were lined with books, as he had imagined they would be. Volumes on every aspect of American history, particularly the wars that had shaped this country -- the Revolutionary War and the Civil War. Macon ran his fingers over the leather spines. These books were of no use to him now.
This was a different kind of war. A war among the Casters, waged within his own family.
He could hear footsteps above, the sound of the crescent key fitting into the lock. The door creaked, a slice of light escaping as the hatch in the ceiling opened. He wanted to reach out, offer his hand to help her down, but he didn't dare.
It had been years since he had seen or touched her.
They had only met in letters and between the covers of the books she left for him in the Tunnels. But he hadn't seen her or heard her voice in all that time. Marian had made sure of that. She stepped through the door cut into the ceiling, the light spilling into the room. Macon's breath caught in his throat. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her shiny brown hair was held away from her face by a pair of red reading glasses. She smiled.
"Jane." He hadn't said her name aloud in such a long time. It was like a song.
"No one's called me that since ..." She looked down. "I use Lila now."
"Of course, I knew that."
Lila was visibly nervous, her voice shaky. "I'm sorry I had to come, but this was the only way." She avoided his eyes. It was too painful to look at him. "What I have to tell you -- it's not something I could leave for you in the study, and I couldn't risk sending a message through the Tunnels."
Macon had a small study in the Tunnels, a reprieve from the self-induced exile of his solitary life in Gatlin. Sometimes Lila pressed messages between the pages of the books she left for him. The messages were never personal. They always related to her research in the Lunae Libri -- possible answers to the questions they were both asking.
"It's good to see you." Macon took a step forward, and Lila stiffened. He looked hurt. "It's safe. I can control the urges now."
"It's not that. I -- I shouldn't be here. I told Mitchell I was working late in the archive. I don't like to lie to him." Of course. She felt guilty. She was still as honest as Macon remembered.
"We are in an archive."
"Semantics, Macon."
Macon drew a heavy breath at the sound of his name from her lips. "What is so important that you would risk coming to me, Lila?"
"I've found something your father kept from you."
Macon's black eyes darkened at the mention of his father. "I haven't seen my father in years. Not since --" He didn't want to say what he was thinking. He hadn't seen his father since Silas had manipulated Macon into letting Lila go. Silas and his twisted views, his bigotry against Mortals and Casters alike. But Macon didn't mention any of that. He didn't want to make it harder for her. "The Transformation."
"There is something you need to know." Lila dropped her voice, as if what she was about to say could only be spoken in whispers. "Abraham is alive."
Macon and Lila didn't have time to react. There was a whirring sound, and a figure materialized in the darkness.
"Bravo. She really is much smarter than I had anticipated. Lila, is it?" Abraham was clapping loudly. "A tactical error on my part, but one your sister can correct easily enough. Wouldn't you agree, Macon?"
Macon's eyes narrowed. "Sarafine is not my sister."
Abraham adjusted his string tie. With his white beard and Sunday suit, he looked more like Colonel Sanders than what he was -- a killer.
"There's no need to be nasty. Sarafine is your father's daughter, after all. It's a shame you two can't get along." Abraham walked casually toward Macon. "You know, I always hoped we would have a chance to meet. I'm sure once we talk, you'll understand your place in the Order of Things."
"I know my place. I made my choice and Bound myself to the Light long ago."
Abraham laughed loudly. "As if such a thing were even possible. You're a Dark creature by nature, an Incubus. This ridiculous alliance with the Light Casters, defending Mortals -- it's inane. You belong with us, with your family."
Abraham looked at Lila. "And for what? A Mortal woman you can never be with? One who is married to another man?"
Lila knew it wasn't true. Macon hadn't made his choice solely because of her, but she knew she was part of the reason. She faced Abraham, mustering all the courage she possessed. "We're going to find a way to end all that.
Casters and Mortals should be able to do more than just coexist."
Abraham's expression changed. His face darkened, and he no longer looked like an aging Southern gentleman. He looked sinister and evil as he smiled at Macon. "Your father and Hunting -- we hoped you would join us. I warned Hunting that brothers are often a disappointment. As are sons."
Macon turned his head sharply, his face changing to mirror Abraham's. "I am no one's son."
"At any rate, I can't have you or this woman interfering with our plans. It's unfortunate, really. You turned your back on your family because you loved this filthy Mortal, and yet she will die because you dragged her into this."
Abraham vanished, materializing in front of Lila. "Oh, well." He opened his mouth, baring his gleaming canines.
Lila covered her head with her arms and screamed, waiting for the bite that never came. Macon materialized between them. Lila felt the weight of his body as it slammed into hers, throwing her backward. "Lila, run!"
For a second she was paralyzed, as the two of them thrashed at each other. The sound was violent, as if the earth was tearing itself apart. Lila watched as Macon threw Abraham to the ground, his guttural cries ripping through the air. Then she ran.
The sky swirled around me slowly, like someone hit REWIND. Liv must have been talking to me, because I could see her mouth forming words, but I couldn't make them out. I closed my eyes again.
Abraham had killed my mother. She may have died by Sarafine's hand, but it was Abraham who ordered it. I was sure of it.
"Ethan? Can you hear me?" Liv's voice was frantic.
"I'm okay." I pushed myself up slowly. All three of them were staring down at me, and Lucille was sitting on my chest.
I was sprawled out on the rotting walkway. "Give it to me." Liv was trying to pry the Arclight out of my hands. "It's acting as some kind of metaphysical channel. You can't control it."
I didn't let go. It was a channel I couldn't afford to close.
"At least tell me what happened. Who was it now? Abraham or Sarafine?" Liv put her hand on my shoulder to steady me.
"It's fine. I don't want to talk about it."
Link stared down at me. "You okay, man?"
I blinked a few times. It was as if I was underwater, watching them through ripples. "I'm fine."
Ridley stood up a few feet away, wiping her hands on her skirt. "Famous last words."
Liv picked up her backpack and stood staring at the end of the almost endless dock. I pulled myself up next to her.
"This is it." I looked at Liv. "I can feel it."
I shivered. That's when I noticed she was shaking, too.
6.20
Sea Change
It felt like we had been walking forever, as if the bridge in front of us only got longer the closer we got. The farther we went, the less we saw. The air became brighter and heavier and wetter, until suddenly my feet came to the edge of the weathered planks -- and what appeared to be an impenetrable wall of fog.
"Is this the Great Barrier?" I squatted down, touching the place where the wood ended. My hand felt nothing. No invisible Caster stairwell. Nothing.
"Wait, what if this is like a dangerous force field or some kind of poisonous smoke?" Link pulled out his shears and gently pushed them into the mist, then yanked them back, perfectly intact. "Or maybe not. Still, pretty creepy.
How do we know if we go through that we're going to be able to come back?" As usual, Link was only saying what the rest of us were thinking.
I stood at the end of the bridge, facing the nothingness. "I'm going through."
Liv looked insulted. "You can barely walk. Why you?"
Because this whole thing is my fault. Because Lena was my girlfriend. Because I might be a Wayward, whatever that is.
I looked away and found myself looking at Lucille, her claws digging into Ridley's shirt. Lucille Ball was no fan of the water. "Ouch!" Ridley put her down. "Stupid cat."
Lucille took a few deliberate steps across the wood, turning to look at me. She cocked her head.
With a flick of her tail, she took off and was gone.
"Because." Turns out, I couldn't explain. Liv shook her head, and without waiting for anyone else, I followed Lucille into the clouds.
I was in the Great Barrier, between universes, and for one second I didn't feel like a Caster or a Mortal. All I felt was magic.
I could feel it and hear it and smell it, the air thick with sound and salt and water. The shore at the end of the bridge was pulling at me, and I was overwhelmed with an unbearable sense of longing. I wanted to be there with Lena.
More than that, I just wanted to be there. I didn't seem to have a reason or logic for it, apart from the intensity of the longing itself.
I wanted to be there more than anything else.
I didn't want to choose one world. I wanted to be part of both. I didn't want to see only one side of the sky. I wanted to see it all.
I hesitated. Then I took a single step and walked out of the fog and into the unknown.
6.20
Out of the Light
Cold air hit me, sending goose bumps up my arms.
By the time I opened my eyes, the brightness and the fog had disappeared. All I could see was a blur of moonlight pouring into a hole in the jagged cave in the distance. The full moon was clear and luminous.
I wondered if I was looking at the Seventeenth Moon.
I closed my eyes and tried to experience the intense rush I'd felt the moment before, when I was between worlds.