As I turned the pages, a loose paper slipped out and floated to the floor. I picked it up, unfolding the fragile sheet. It was vellum, thin and slightly transparent, like tracing paper. There were strange shapes penned on one side. Misshapen ovals, with dips and rises, as if a child were drawing clouds. I turned to Liv, holding the vellum open so she could see the shapes. She shook her head without a word. Neither one of us knew what it meant.
I folded the delicate paper and replaced it in the journal, skipping ahead to the end. I turned to the last page. There was something else that didn’t make any sense, at least not to me.
In Luce Caecae Caligines sunt,
Et in Caliginibus, Lux.
In Arcu imperium est,
Et in imperio, Nox.
Instinctively, I ripped out the page and shoved it in my pocket. My mother was dead because of the letter, and possibly what was written on these pages. They belonged with me now.
“Ethan, are you all right?” Aunt Del’s voice was full of concern.
I was so far from right I couldn’t remember what it felt like. I had to get out of this room, away from my mom’s past, out of my head.
“Be right back.” I bolted down the stairs to the guest room and lay on the bed in my dirty clothes. I stared at the ceiling, painted sky blue, just like the one in my bedroom. Stupid bees. The joke was on them, and they didn’t even know.
Or maybe on me.
I was numb, the way you get when you try to feel everything at once. I might as well have been Aunt Del walking into this old house.
Abraham Ravenwood wasn’t a piece of the past. He was alive, hiding in the shadows with Sarafine. My mother had known, and Sarafine had killed her because of it.
My eyes were blurry. I wiped them, expecting tears, but there was nothing there. I squeezed my eyes shut, but when I opened them all I could see were colors and lights flashing by me, as if I was running. I saw bits and pieces—a wall, dented silver trash cans, cigarette butts. Whatever I’d experienced when I was staring into my bathroom mirror was happening again. I tried to get up, but I was too dizzy. The pieces kept flying by, finally slowing so my mind could catch up.
I was in a room, a bedroom, maybe. It was hard to tell from where I was standing. The floor was gray concrete, and the white walls were covered in the same black designs I had seen on Lena’s hands. As I looked at them, they seemed to move.
I scanned the room. She had to be here somewhere.
“I feel so different from everyone else, even other Casters.” It was Lena’s voice. I looked up, following the sound.
They were above me, lying on the black-painted ceiling. Lena and John were head to head, talking back and forth without looking at each other. They were staring at the floor the way I stared at my ceiling at night, when I couldn’t fall asleep. Lena’s hair fell around her shoulders, flat against the ceiling as if she was lying on the floor.
It would seem impossible, if I hadn’t already seen it. Only this time, she wasn’t the only one on the ceiling. And I wasn’t there to pull her back down.
“No one can explain my powers to me, not even my family. Because they don’t know.” She sounded miserable and far away. “And every day I wake up, and I can do things I couldn’t the day before.”
“It’s the same for me. One day I woke up and thought about somewhere I wanted to go, and a second later I was there.” John was tossing something up in the air and catching it, over and over. Except he was tossing it toward the floor instead of the ceiling.
“Are you saying that you didn’t know you could Travel?”
“Not until I did it.” He closed his eyes, but he didn’t stop tossing the ball.
“What about your parents? Did they know?”
“I never knew my parents. They took off when I was little. Even Supernaturals know a freak when they see one.” If he was lying, I couldn’t tell. His voice was bitter and hurt, which sounded genuine to me.
Lena rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow so she could see him. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful. At least I had my gramma to take care of me.” She looked at the ball and it froze in midair. “Now I don’t have anyone.”
The ball dropped to the floor. It bounced a few times and rolled under the bed. John turned to look at her. “You have Ridley. And me.”
“Trust me, once you get to know me, you won’t be able to get away fast enough.”
They were only inches apart now. “You’re wrong. I know what it’s like to feel alone even when you’re with other people.”
She didn’t say anything. Is that what it was like when she was with me? Did she feel alone even when we were together? When she was in my arms?