The Golden Spiral (23 page)

I love you, Abby.

I opened my eyes, not at all surprised to find tears on my face and my hand reaching out.

“I love you too, Dante,” I whispered.

Chapter

16

Here are the rules,” I said to V, folding my hands over the binder containing the modified copy of the blueprints. It had taken me two days to annotate the plans—well, actually it had only taken me a couple of hours to mark the modifications Dante had told me to make, but it had taken me a day to get a message to V and another day waiting for him to show up. Some people had no concept of time anymore.

I had also taken the time to make a copy of the blueprints. Just in case. I didn’t want to risk losing the instructions Dante had passed along to me. I had locked a set in my desk drawer and brought the second set to meet with V.

It was more crowded at the Sugar Shoppe than at Helen’s Café, but, given Zo’s increased attention to what V called “lodestone locations” and V’s paranoia, we couldn’t go there. Luckily, we were able to snag a back table, so at least we had some measure of privacy.

V leaned forward, the sleeves of his army jacket pushed up to his elbows. He wore leather cuffs around his wrists to hide the gold bands. His dark hair fell over his serious eyes as he nodded his understanding.

“First,” I said, “you have to follow these plans
exactly.
No variation. No liberties. No shortcuts.”

“I will.”

“Second, you can’t tell anyone what you’re doing.”

“Obviously.”

“Third, once you’re done, I’ll arrange a visit for you with Valerie.”

V’s smile softened the square angles of his face. “Good.”

I took a deep breath, knowing what I had to say next and wondering at what had happened in my life that had led me to be able to say such impossible words. “Last rule: you’ll have to go back to March so you can start building the door on the first day of spring.”

“What?” V’s smile collapsed into a frown and his whole body stiffened with tension.

I looked around, for once grateful for the crowds around us. The noise was loud enough that no one was paying any attention to us. “The door
has
to be built on a strict timeline and it has to be started on the first day of a season—though, luckily, it doesn’t matter which one.”

“The first day of summer is coming up, why not—”

I shook my head, cutting him off. “That’ll be too late. The door takes months to build and I need it done
now.
” I shrugged. “There’s no other way, V. Believe me, I’ve looked. If you want my help, then you have to do things my way.”

He leaned back against the chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“What’s the problem? I thought you did this traveling thing all the time now.”

“I do. But . . .”

I drew my eyebrows together in confusion. “But what?”

He sighed in obvious frustration. “Zero Hour first played at the Dungeon on January fifteenth, remember?”

“How could I forget?” I said dryly.

“That was the day our timelines intersected with yours.”

“So?”

V set the edge of his hands on the table, about a foot apart. “So, we can’t travel to any point between January fifteenth and the day when we went through the door the second time.”

“Why not?”

“Because you won’t let us.”

Now it was my turn to lean back and fold my arms across my chest. “Excuse me?”

V shook his head, struggling with his words. “Okay, look.” He moved his knife to the center of the table. “Here’s the river, right?” He grabbed the straw from his water glass and the one from mine. Laying a straw on either side of the knife, he said, “And here’s the bank.” He picked up his paper napkin and tore a small circle out of it, holding it up before me. “This is you.” He placed the paper circle on the knife. “And this is you on your little island that protects that portion of the river. We can move all around that island, but not right there. We can get close to you, to your specific timeline, but we can’t get to any point that you’re protecting.” He shrugged. “I can’t go back to March.”

I put my head in my hands. What V said made a sort of sense. The changes that had happened in my life had all happened before Zero Hour had entered my timeline. The events Zo had been changing had happened far back in my past, though they resulted in large changes downstream in my
present. Perhaps that’s what he meant when he said things would have been different if he had met me first. Perhaps if he had, he would have had access to my entire timeline, including the part of the river I was somehow protecting from his touch.

So how could I allow V access to that part of the river without opening the door to Zo as well?

I studied his makeshift diagram, trying to figure out a solution. It was hard to think. I knew from my dreaming trips that the bank was crumbling, that the river had twisted. It didn’t look like the same place anymore—

And then, all at once, I saw the answer. The way out.

V looked at me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Abby. I wish I could help—”

I pulled out my cell phone and punched in a number.

“Who are you calling?” V asked.

“Leo,” I said shortly. He picked up on the second ring.

“Abby?” he said.

“Hi, Leo.” I picked up the paper island from the blade of the knife and rubbed it between my fingers. “I need you to meet me at the Sugar Shoppe in”—I checked my watch—“one hour. Can you do that?”

“Of course. Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just need a favor.” I snapped the phone shut and pinned V with a hard stare. “You said you would do anything to make things right.”

V nodded. “If I can, I will.”

“Good.” I swept aside the knife and the straws with the flat of my hand. Then I pushed the binder across the table to him. “You have one hour to memorize these plans—every step. Everything.”

V wrapped his thick fingers around the binder. “Then what? I told you, I can’t go back to March—”

“Maybe not directly. But you
can
go to the bank. And you can take me with you.”

***

I paced in front of V, who leaned up against a tree trunk outside of the building, the binder propped open on his bent knees. He wasn’t happy about the idea of taking me to the bank, but since my answer to every one of his questions was to point to the binder and remind him that he had less than an hour left, he stopped asking questions and started studying.

Checking my watch, I scanned the parking lot. V had less than five minutes now, if Leo was on time, and he was always on time.

“This is amazing,” V said, turning a page. “And you say Dante designed this?”

“Da Vinci designed it. Dante just made the modifications.”

“Still.” V tapped the papers with his finger. “It’s incredible. It’s so complicated it’s a wonder it worked at all.”

I stopped my pacing and slanted a look down at him. “But it did, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “It did. And you want me to build one for you? Why?”

I sat down next to him. The binder was open to the last page—the drawing of the heart-shaped locket. “Long story short: Dante didn’t make it through the second door like you did. Building this will bring him home.” I felt V’s eyes on me and turned my head to meet his gaze. “You reunite me with Dante, and I’ll reunite you with Valerie.”

“But it’s dangerous—building another machine.”

“I know,” I said. “But it’s more dangerous not to.”

V was quiet for a moment. “How do you know I won’t run back to Zo and tell him what I’ve learned?”

I studied his dark eyes. “I don’t,” I said honestly. “But I trust you’ll do the right thing. For Valerie’s sake if not your own.”

V tilted his head. Then he reached out and touched my hand. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “For everything. For bringing all this uncertainty into your life.”

I smiled at him, though it felt a little crooked on my face. “You’re sweet. I can see what Valerie liked about you.”

“Abby?” Leo stepped up to join us in the shade of the tree. “Are you all right?”

Standing up, I brushed at my pants and dusted my hands together. “I’m great. Thanks for coming.”

V closed the binder and stood by my side. “Leo.” He nodded his head respectfully in greeting.

“Vincenzio,” Leo replied, looking wary and confused.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” I said, clapping my hands together. “The three of us are going to the bank. I’ll help V drop back into the river in March so he can build the door for Dante, and then you, Leo, will help me back so I don’t get stuck in time. Everybody ready?”

V and Leo looked at me with alternating expressions of horror and incredulity.

Leo found his voice first. “No,” he said. “That’s insanity. I won’t let you do this—”

V chimed in. “I’ve never taken anyone to the bank. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Dante would never forgive me if I let you come to harm,” Leo continued.

I held up my hands and both men fell silent. “You both promised you’d help me. Well, this is how you can.” I lifted the binder from V’s unresisting hands and wrapped my arms around it. “Now, let’s stop standing around and get moving.” I looked from V to Leo. “Please.”

Leo sighed, frowning. “I’m not happy about this.”

“I know,” I said. “But it’ll be over before you know it. Trust me.”

“Do we have a choice?” V growled.

I smiled. “Nope.”

***

Leo drove the three of us to the ruins of the Dungeon. As another lodestone location, I knew it was a risk going there—V worried that Zo would take note of our presence and figure out what we were doing—but the Dungeon was where I had done most of my traveling to the bank, and I hoped it would ease the transition if we at least started in a familiar place.

The yellow caution tape still roped off the area, and the twisted metal still jutted up from the ashes like teeth. I glanced at Leo, who surveyed the lot with obvious pain in his eyes. I touched his arm and smiled at him, hoping to offer some small measure of comfort.

I ducked under the tape and walked to where the bar had once been. V and Leo followed, their unhappiness as thick as the dust in the air.

“This will do,” I said.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” V asked, walking behind me.

“No,” I admitted, “but stranger things have happened.”

Leo folded his arms, scowling. “Why do you have to go? Let V and me do what needs to be done, and you stay here where it’s safe.”

“It’s not safe anywhere anymore,” I said. “Besides, you can’t do what I can. What I
need
to do there.” I touched Leo’s arm. “There’s no time to try anything else. I have to do whatever it takes to set Dante free.”

Leo held my gaze for a long time, and I saw a wealth of emotions run through his face. Finally, he uncrossed his arms and nodded. “For Dante,” he said low.

I slipped my hand into his and held out the binder to V. “Are you ready, V?”

He took the binder and nodded.

“What do I do?” he asked me under his breath, a note of nervousness in his voice. “Last time Zo did all the work . . .” He trailed off.

I smiled reassuringly at V. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is go to the bank like you always do. I’ll just be tagging along this time.”

I took V’s free hand with mine. Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes and thought about thinning the edges between here and there. I counted my heartbeats. I focused on the feel of my hands in Leo’s and V’s grip. I wanted to make it as easy for V as I could.

As I felt the pressure of V’s fingers tighten around mine, I turned to him. “Oh, and remember to kiss”—the world shifted—“me,” I finished.

I wondered how I had ever mistaken the dream-side of the bank for the actual bank. The pressure hit me like a rock, crushing me. My body felt tight like a knot and the vise pinched my lungs, stealing my breath. This was as bad as I remembered.

No, it was worse.

The midnight sky I’d seen in my dreams was an even darker black, oppressive and unrelenting. The crumbling bank sloughed under my feet like a shed skin.

The three of us stood on a small island in the center of the river. All around us the river bubbled and churned. I was used to seeing it flowing silver-white, filled with images and pictures, but now it was almost gray, and a murky film floated on the surface like sludge.

I freed my hands and turned V’s face toward me, frantic for relief. I pulled his head down and kissed him quickly. The pressure of the bank eased up and I relaxed as much as I ever could in that place.

“This was a bad idea,” Leo said next to me, a hard pain drawing a line across his forehead. His lips thinned into a tight frown.

“Maybe, but it worked,” I said with relief. “We’re here on my island.”

“What happened?” V asked, looking around and down at the chunk of bank beneath our feet. “The river’s not supposed to be here.” He pointed into the distance on his right. “It’s supposed to be over there.”