Shattered Souls, page 11
“You will hand over those books!” The lighthouse keeper rushed forward just as the first crack of electricity sizzled in the air around us. The jolt startled him but didn’t stop him from wrapping a weathered hand around Sam’s arm.
She let out a shriek as he stripped the journals from her grip, and they dropped to the floor at her feet in a cloud of dust.
“Leave her alone!” I released Sam’s hand to lunge forward, shoving the bearded man square in the chest with every ounce of strength I could muster.
Off-balance, he staggered into the desk, scattering a stack of papers to the floor and causing a mini-avalanche.
Dodging the falling books, Sam scooped up the journals and grasped my hand. “Come on, Ava. We need to leave.”
Mesmerized, I held my breath as the lantern tipped in what felt like slow motion. It teetered precariously for half a second before crashing to the floor. Kerosene splashed over the burning wick, instantly igniting the loose papers with a low whoosh.
Sam dragged me out of the way as the rolltop desk went up in a massive ball of flame. “Hurry, get us out of here!”
The panic in her voice broke through the fire’s hypnotic spell. Operating on pure instinct, I wrapped my arm around her, keeping the leather books sandwiched between us.
“Hold on,” I shouted over my scrambled thoughts. Then with one last glance at the fireball, I dragged us both into the time tunnel.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Even in the pitch-black of the maelstrom, I knew instantly that something had gone very wrong.
“What’s happening?” Sam’s shriek somehow made it through the wind rushing in my ears.
An easy lie rose to my lips, and the bitter taste made my insides churn. She deserves to know. “I got distracted.”
When the lighthouse keeper had rushed Sam, I’d directed every drop of my attention on protecting her. And the journals. And when the desk went up in flames, it had completely scorched the focus I needed to get us home. My thoughts had scattered like the ashes still smoldering along the hem of my skirt.
I swallowed back a sob. Once again, I’d tampered with time, causing a chain reaction that had changed history. I’d started that fire. Not some random historical event. Me. I don’t think I’ll ever get the greasy stench of burning kerosene out of my head.
As if feeding on my anguish, the tempest increased in ferocity, plucking at my clothes and whipping my hair around my head until it basically became a weapon, stabbing me in the eyes and mouth like tiny skewers.
“What does that even mean?”
Bile hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed it down. There was nothing else in my stomach to throw up, or I would’ve surrendered to the urge. It means we’re lost. I kept the terrifying truth to myself. “Just don’t let go.”
Sam tightened her hold on me, crushing the journals between us and gripping my hand until my fingers turned to ice. I half expected her to come up with some clever anecdote about Aunt Betty’s exploits traveling through time, but I knew better. Even before she was Aunt Betty, she kept her feet planted firmly on the ground. Bribing witches and abandoning children... maybe even spying on the Navy.
The imaginary rope lashing me to the portal gave a violent jerk, finally pulling me in a single direction. Though, in what direction was anyone’s guess. Like Dorothy and her little dog, spiraling their way to Oz, Sam and I clung to each other as the wind whipped through the darkness.
The swirling vortex unceremoniously deposited us where we’d began: in the black of night, on the same deserted bluff along the jagged cliffs of Casco Bay. No fire in sight. We must be home.
The familiar sound of the waves battering the rocks below soothed my jangled nerves, lulling my heart into a steady rhythm. I relaxed into the scratchy brush beneath me to catch my breath. A cool mist of salty seawater floated through the air as I gazed up at the stars.
“Who turned off the light?” Sam sat up and stared into the horizon where the darkened lighthouse stood against the moonlit sky.
“Does that happen often? The light going out?”
She shook her head, unanswered questions reflecting in her eyes. “Never. Not in all the years I’ve been alive. The one constant around here has always been that sweeping beam of light at the top of—” Sam’s face fell, and she whipped her head around. “Oh, no.”
I followed the path of her eyes. The grassy park and visitor center had been replaced with rows of warehouse-style buildings, and a chain-link fence circled the whole area. I picked up on something familiar about one of the buildings farther down the rocky cliffside. “Is that—”
“Will Clark’s house? I’m guessing it will be in about sixty years.”
The eerie quiet threatened to swallow me. “Shit.”
“Exactly. This is bad.” The moonlight washed away every drop of color from Sam’s face as she scrambled to collect the scattered journals. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
I nodded and pressed a hand to the stone hanging around my neck. I grabbed Sam’s hand and thought about my room—the smell of clean sheets and my pile of unfolded laundry, and the sound of my brother laughing—anything to fuel the jump and take us home. I waited for the familiar sparks to tingle over my skin, but nothing happened.
“Come on, Ava.” Sam squeezed my hand. “Let’s go, already.”
“I’m trying.” I closed my eyes, swallowing the scream building in my diaphragm, and concentrated on the rusted chains on our porch swing. Mom’s attempts to weed the rose bushes in the side yard. Not even a flicker—oh no. “W-We can’t leave yet.”
Sam whipped her head around to gape at me. “Why?”
“The ripples.” My voice cracked on the word. I hadn’t explained all the nuances about time travel, and those minor facts were coming back to bite me.
“The what? I don’t understand.”
“You know when you throw a rock into a pond, and the waves ripple out from the spot?”
“Yes, but...” Sam exhaled sharply. “What does that have to do with time travel?”
“I’m not explaining it right. Laith did a way better job when he told me.” He’d called it the jet wash. “Basically, every time we jump, it causes the same sort of ripples in the fabric of time, and we have to wait for those to fade before we can jump again.”
“Ava. That”—she pointed to the buildings—“is a naval base. Which, unless I’m mistaken, means we’ve somehow ended up somewhere between 1942 and 1945.”
“You’re not.” My throat tightened. “Mistaken, I mean.”
“You said all you had to do was think about where we were going, and we’d get there.” Her whisper took on a frantic edge. “So how did we get here?”
“Aunt Betty... the fire...” I pushed both hands into my hair. The fact that both Laith and Maddox did the same thing when agitated hadn’t escaped me. Keeping my voice down was almost impossible when I wanted to scream until I was hoarse. “I got distracted!”
Sam let out a breath. “And we landed in 1942?”
I nodded.
“How long before we can jump again?”
“I don’t know. Laith told me it could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours.” A wave of helplessness washed over me, and I beat it back. “We can go as soon as the static from the last jump clears.”
“And you’re just now telling me that? Seems to me that should have been the first thing out of your mouth. ‘Oh, by the way, we could get stuck in the past until the stupid ripples on the stupid pond clear.’”
“Before or after you demanded to come along whether I liked it or not?”
“Fair point.” Sam’s fury faded into the darkness, and she shot another glance into the distance. “But we can’t stay here. The place is crawling with sailors.”
“I know. The absolute last thing we need is to get arrested.”
“Even if they don’t arrest us, there’s no way they let us leave with these.” Sam held up the journals. She knew as well as I did, I wasn’t going to give those up without a fight. “They’ll, rightly, assume we stole them from the lighthouse. It’s not as if we have ID, or family members we can call to pick us up.”
“They’ll think we’re spies.”
“Look at us.” Sam motioned to our old-fashioned dresses and tugged on a lock of her light-blond hair.
I nodded as her meaning sank in. “German spies.”
As if karma was listening to my thoughts, a searchlight beam swept the area, forcing us to flatten ourselves against the ground. Spiny vegetation snagged my dress, stabbing my skin through the heavy cotton.
“Someone’s coming.” I held my breath as heavy footfalls headed in our direction. “We need to hide.”
“It’s too late for that.” Sam shoved the journals under me with a trembling hand and muttered under her breath. “The one time I don’t have my Taser... Take these and stay down.”
My blood turned to ice as Sam scrambled to her feet. I tried to pull her back down, but she danced out of reach. “What are you doing? They’ll see you!”
“They’ll either catch me alone or they’ll get us both, and you’ll never see those journals again.”
“So we stay together,” I whispered, frantic to get through to her before it was truly too late. “As soon as the ripples fade, I’ll jump us right out of here. I don’t care who sees.”
“And what if they take the stone before that happens?” A shudder ran through her. “Then we’re both stuck in 1942 with no way home? My plan is better.”
I swallowed the lump of fear rising in my throat. “Laith will come for me, and I won’t leave without you. Everything will work out, and we’ll even find some other way to get the journals.”
“No, he won’t.” Sam shook her head, her eyes shimmering in the moonlight. “The note you gave your brother said we’d be in 1903.”
“So no one knows to search for us here,” I finished her sentence, a ribbon of dread pulsing through my veins.
“Go home. Find Laith.” She flashed a sunny smile, but I could plainly see the fear under her bravado. “Then come back and rescue me.”
“Sam—”
She silenced me with a fierce glare. “I have faith in you, Ava. Don’t let me down.”
With my heart in my throat, I watched her square her shoulders and stride off toward the naval base. She’d barely gotten twenty yards before an armed group of sailors surrounded her. Before she disappeared from view, she glanced my way again. The naked trust in her eyes gutted me. I never should’ve let her come.
OUT OF BREATH AND FRANTIC, I staggered up the attic stairs to my room. According to the display on my phone, I’d made it back just over an hour after leaving. An hour. And in that time, I’d managed to destroy countless historical documents, invade a naval base, and turn my best friend into a war criminal. All that, and I still had no idea what had happened to Maddox.
I couldn’t just leave well enough alone.
I tossed the musty journals onto my bed and quickly shed my wet shoes and dress to take a shower. My chest ached at the sight of Sam’s clothes, still hanging over the towel bar where she’d left them. I fished her cell phone from her pocket and sent a text to her mom saying she was hanging out at my house, hoping like hell her mom didn’t call to talk to her, because there was no way I could pull that off. I’d get her back before her parents even realized she was gone. I had to. I cranked the water as hot as I could stand it and climbed under the stream. I needed to scrub the failure and shame from my skin.
When the water ran ice-cold, I finally shut off the taps and got out. Without bothering to dry my hair, I yanked on my favorite Bowie tee and a pair of fleece shorts and climbed into my bed to wade through Archibald Freeman’s diaries.
Skipping over the winter months, I started my search in April 1878. The day Maddox had kidnapped me had been cool, but not cold, and the underbrush was green, so I knew it had to have been sometime between late spring and early fall. I flipped through the pages, skimming entries until I reached the cold snap at the end of October, 1878, then tossed the first journal aside and opened the second.
I’d almost given up finding anything until I read the entry from June 3, 1881.
Dry and clear. Moderate wind. Choppy sea with good visibility. Left the lighthouse for the better part of an hour and came back to discover curious happenings in the storage room. Started the day with three bottles of rum, but after lighting the lamps this evening, I found only two.
Maddox had mentioned helping himself to Mr. Freeman’s rum. Could I be getting warm? With a renewed vigor, I dove back through the pages, probing each entry for anything that might be a mention of Maddox.
September 5, 1881
Rain and dense fog. Spent the entirety of the day and night in the lighthouse tending to the lamps and the foghorn. When the wind finally changed and the sky cleared, I left for a spot of rum, and lo, I encountered my thief. His manner of dress was indeed curious, but before I could inquire, the young man scurried off with nary a word. I shall never forget his face.
Goose bumps broke out over my skin as I picked through the rest of the journal before swapping it for the next. With my insides twisting, I devoured the pages one after another. He has to be in here. I skipped over the weather reports and the sea conditions, diving straight into the meat of his notes.
Electricity pulsed through my veins as I finally found what I’d been searching for: April 23, 1882.
Upon entering the lighthouse, I was certain I heard voices. At first, I thought it the wind, but as I climbed the stairs, I caught bits of conversation leading me to believe I’d caught a couple in the midst of an argument, but when I reached the top, the same man who had stolen my rum some months earlier was alone, shouting curses at the empty room.
With my eyes glued to the page, my pulse thundered. He hadn’t even seen me there.
I raised my pistol and pointed it at the clearly deranged gentleman, ordering him out of the lighthouse. I followed him to the woodshed, lowering my firearm only long enough to open the door. It was not my intention to shoot the man but rather deliver him to the authorities. I would have done just that had I not been struck from behind. When I regained consciousness, my prisoner was gone.
My heart stopped, leaving me cold and confused.
Maddox had escaped. How was that even possible? A scream bubbled up from deep inside me, and I struggled to fight it. My hands shook as I cleared the journals from my bed, violently shoving them to the floor in a heap. My entire trip had been for nothing. Sam had been trapped in the forties for nothing. I flung myself into a pillow and cried myself to sleep.
HIS WARM HAND CLUTCHED mine as we darted through a field of wildflowers. My billowing skirts slapped against the tall stalks, kicking up millions of dandelion seeds as we ran. They floated through the air on tiny parachutes, sticking to the glistening sheen of sweat on my skin.
“Stop. Stop.” I panted through giggles. “I can’t run anymore. I need to rest.”
The musical sound of his laughter kept me going until he tugged me down, pulling me on top of him on a soft bed of flowers. I struggled to sit up, but he held me close. “You said you wanted to rest.”
I stopped struggling but didn’t quite relax. “But what if my father sees us?”
“He won’t.” His smile was as bright as the sun. Without moving from his place beneath me, he plucked a bouquet of snowdrops from the ground and presented it to me. “We’re very well hidden.”
“What if he comes looking for us?”
“He won’t. You always worry too much.” He rolled until I was under him and brought his lips down to mine for a quick kiss. “He knows I’d never harm you.”
I laughed at the lascivious look on his handsome face. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you mean to give me a raging fever.”
“It’s only fair. I already burn for you.” His mouth captured mine again, sucking the breath from my lungs. No matter how many times I kissed him, I would never get used to the unbridled thrill of it.
Like practiced perfection, our lips moved together. He had me breathless and drunk on his affection. I never wanted him to stop. I needed his touch more than oxygen—the feel of his weight above me, pressing me into the warm earth, his strong hands gripping my hips to keep me still. I would rather suffocate than stop him.
Without warning, he pulled back. He didn’t say a word, just stared down at me with a look I couldn’t decipher.
“What is it?” My breath caught in my throat. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes burned into mine for a long moment. He smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I laughed, grabbing his shirtfront and tugging him back to me.
He kissed me again, nipping and licking my lips. Then he shook his head and pulled away, sitting an arm’s length from me. “Wait.”
I crawled to sit beside him and pouted out my bottom lip. “No waiting. Just kiss me. We only have until sundown.”
He looked into the hazy blue sky then turned his eyes back to mine. “Marry me.”
“What?”
“Please. I want to know you’re mine forever. If your father won’t give us permission, we’ll run away together. I’ll make all the arrangements if you’ll just say you’ll marry me.”
My smile was so wide, I worried my face would crack. “All right. Yes. I’ll marry you.”
“You will?”
“I will. I-I love you—” I sucked in a quick breath as Maddox’s name turned to dust in my mouth.
Laith’s eyebrows drew together, and he grasped my arms to steady me. “What is it?”
I’d had this dream before. I hadn’t known they were twins then—hadn’t known anything about the curse or time travel—I only knew that the all-consuming love I felt for this man threatened to devour me... consuming me until there was nothing left. But it wasn’t Maddox I loved... it was Laith. God help me, I knew what would happen if I uttered his brother’s name again in our shared dream, but I had to tell him what I’d done—warn him that his brother was still out there somewhere.
