“Have you seen his work before?” Caterina asked.
I looked down at the locket in my hand. “Yes,” I managed, my voice trembling. “I’ve seen quite a bit of it, actually.”
Quickly, I ripped off a small piece of cloth from the cloak and wrapped it tightly around the locket so the broken pieces wouldn’t move around. Then I slipped the packet inside my bra, close to my heart. I pulled my shirt up and over my head. Goose bumps rose up on my exposed skin; I missed the convenience of central heat.
“Abby knows all about Dante’s work,” Valerie chimed in. “He is very talented. And he is planning to make something special just for her.”
“He is?” Caterina asked, intrigued.
I wondered the same thing. How could Dante make anything with his sight gone?
“But he doesn’t know what it is yet. It’s still a secret,” Valerie continued.
“Oh, I see,” Caterina said. “But if so, then how do you know about it?”
Valerie’s voice took on a proud confidence. “I know everyone’s secrets. Even the ones the Pirate King doesn’t know I know.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Valerie might be getting better, but she wasn’t there yet. Quickly pulling on the dress, I stepped around the screen, hoping to redirect the conversation before it went any further.
Valerie looked up at me, her mouth opening in honest surprise. “Oh, Abby,” she breathed. “You look beautiful.”
Caterina fairly beamed, and, to my surprise, tears welled up in her eyes. “Yes, I agree. It looks wonderful on you.”
I smoothed my hands down the front of the skirt, suddenly self-conscious. The dress fit better than I’d expected, a little tight around the waist, and a little short in the sleeves and the hem—I was slightly taller than Caterina—but the fabric was lush and lovely.
Caterina walked to my side, a faraway look softening her already expressive face and bold features. She ran her fingertips down the embroidered sleeve. “I was wearing this dress when I met Alessandro for the first time. He was so young and handsome. I knew I would marry him the moment I saw him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—I can wear something else.” I turned back to the screen, intending to change back into my clothes.
“No, no, please. It’s all right.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’ve seen how you and Dante are together—even during this short time tonight. And a mother knows.” She took my hand in hers. “Dante is a good man, and all I’ve ever wanted was for him to find happiness. Which is why I’m so glad that he found you. I hope he never lets you go.”
Chapter 18
I felt a little silly wearing my sneakers underneath such a beautiful dress, but Caterina’s shoes fit Valerie, not me. Besides, she needed them more than I did.
Valerie looked more like herself once she had taken off Alessandro’s cloak and changed out of her hospital sweats and bathrobe and into Caterina’s green dress. Though the gown hung loosely on her thin frame, the color went perfectly with her dark hair and blue eyes.
When we entered the room, my eyes immediately went to Dante. He was alone by the fireplace, holding his hands out to warm his palms against the rising heat. He lifted his head and turned toward me.
I knew he could see me, but I still wasn’t prepared for his reaction.
He walked directly to me, took me in his arms, and kissed me, right there in front of his parents and Valerie.
Surprised, I didn’t know what else to do but kiss him back. I could feel his lips trembling against mine, and I wondered at his sudden rush of emotion.
Valerie gasped and clapped her hands. “Oh, they make the cutest couple.”
“That they do,” Caterina said.
“Reminds me of us, when we were young,” Alessandro said, sweeping his arm around his wife and kissing her cheek.
“Are you saying I’m not young anymore?” Caterina teased. “Perhaps now that I’m an old lady, you won’t love me like you used to.”
“Impossible,” Alessandro declared. “I will love you forever.”
Dante broke off the kiss and touched his forehead to mine. “Forever,” he echoed. “Forever and always.”
The door swung open and I saw Orlando come inside, his arms full of chopped wood. He stopped at the scene in front of him, but only for a moment. Then he headed for the fireplace and dropped the logs in the bin on the hearth. When he passed me and Dante, still in our embrace, he averted his eyes. His face was red, but I didn’t know if it was from the cold or from chopping wood—or from something else.
“Oh, thank you, Orlando,” Caterina said, untangling herself from her husband’s arms.
“You’re welcome, Mother,” he said, a peculiar strain in his voice. “I’m happy to help.”
She looked at him with thoughtful eyes. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
Orlando brushed the wood dust from his hands and obediently went to his mother’s side.
“In private?” she added, drawing him behind her as she headed toward the back of the house.
I took Dante’s hand and pulled him to the corner of the room.
“Why did you kiss me like that?” I demanded.
A breath escaped along with a laugh. “Do I need a reason?”
“You didn’t even hesitate. And everyone saw us.” I said the second part in a low voice.
“I kissed you to make sure you were real. And to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.”
“Are your eyes getting better?” I asked, feeling a spark of hope.
He shook his head. “You are still all I can see.” A small smile crossed his lips. “But you are enough. And you are just as beautiful today as you were the first time I saw you.” Dante ran his hand down my arm. “When I saw you standing at the dungeon door, I knew what hope looked like. And when I saw you today, I knew what my future looked like. You have always brought me joy, Abby. And you always will. All the way to the end of time.” He stifled a cough, turning his head to keep his pain private.
But I heard the rattle when he caught his breath, and it made me shiver. If we didn’t do something, and soon, the end of Dante’s time might be sooner rather than later.
He winced and pressed his hand to his chest, a grim expression on his face.
“We have to find a way to get you better,” I said. “Let me go to the dungeon. You’re already there, aren’t you? The other you, I mean. Maybe if we close the loop early, it will help. Or give us the time we need to focus on finding a way to patch your heart.” I was ready to have the loop be closed. I wanted to protect the river, save Dante and my family, and finally, finally, put all this behind us.
“It’s not that simple.”
I sighed. “Why not?”
“Seeing you in that exact moment at the dungeon was what gave me the strength to endure the rest of my time in prison. It’s the key to everything. Yes, it’s almost time, but missing that exact moment—by being either too early or too late—would be catastrophic. I don’t dare risk it. No, events must unfold in the correct order and at the correct time or else the loop won’t be closed—or stay closed.”
A pang shot through my heart. I was so focused on simply being at the dungeon for Dante, I’d forgotten that that moment had happened in the middle of his imprisonment. Even after he had seen me, he had waited and suffered for days and weeks on end before he was released—only to be sent through the door into a different kind of prison.
“But I want to help,” I said.
“I know. And you are. And when the time comes for you to go to the dungeon, you will help even more. Believe me.”
I looked up as a sudden, terrible thought occurred to me. “But I can’t go to the dungeon—at least, not directly.”
“Why not?”
“When Orlando and I escaped from the courthouse, the guards came looking for us. I suspect they are still looking for us—for me. I can’t simply walk into the courthouse, can I? What if someone r
ecognizes me?” I bit my lip, thinking hard. “Can you take me there? Isn’t it possible for you to take me to the bank and then, from there, directly to the dungeon? We could go together.”
Dante thought for a moment. “Yes, that might be possible,” he said slowly. “But it’s a dangerous plan.”
“Why? I only have to be at the dungeon long enough for you to see me, and then we could come right back.” My hope was renewed. This was a good plan. A quick strike, in and out, and everything would be fixed.
“It’s not me seeing you that I’m worried about. It’s me seeing me.” He shook his head at the complexity of the idea. “There are two of me in the river right now—the me in the dungeon and the me standing here—and if we were to see each other, the paradox of the two of us being in the same place at the same time could destroy the river entirely. The barriers are already so fragile, the river is already so unstable, I don’t want to risk any further damage.”
“There are two of Zo,” I pointed out. My hope suddenly reversed to worry. “Can he use his other half to destroy the river?”
Dante frowned. “I doubt that would be his first choice.”
“He’s already tried several things and failed. If he thinks this is his last option . . .”
“The danger is not only to the river,” Dante said. “Seeing our other self is dangerous to us personally. Zo may be many things, but he’s not suicidal. He’ll not risk his own life or sanity if there is any other way. And since he is already wounded, I suspect that his interest in destroying the river has been set aside in favor of his interest in saving himself.”
“What if he sees his other self by accident?”
“I think that would be unlikely. I can feel the other me—the me still in prison—like a constant buzz in the back of my head. He is an echo I can’t ignore. It seems to get louder the closer I get to him.” His smile tightened to steel. “I’m sure Zo is feeling the same thing with his other half. Trust me. Neither one of us will run into our other self by accident—or on purpose.”
I sighed. “I wish I were a Master of Time. Then I could take myself to the dungeon without putting anyone else at risk.” I had said it as a half joke, but then I stopped. My smile turned into a grin. “That’s it! That’s what we should do.” My words tumbled out in a rush. “I’ve been through the door once already. All I’d have to do is go back through and I could be a Master of Time too. And if Valerie and Orlando came with me, then together the four of us could stop Zo and save the river and help you and—” I stopped as Dante touched his finger to my lips, quelling my excitement. “What?” I asked. “It’s a good plan.”
“Becoming a Master of Time might not be that easy.”
“Why not? It was for you.”
“Nothing about the time machine is easy,” Dante said, a shadow behind his words. “I could only return through the door a second time because you summoned the other half of the hourglass door on the bank as well as the bridge to get there. Zo, Tony, V, Leo, me—we had all been to the bank countless times and the door had never appeared for any of us. It wasn’t until I took you to the bank—and you brought some of the river with you—that the door appeared.”
My shoulders slumped in defeat. “And you think the same thing will have to happen for me? Someone else will have to come to the bank—someone straight from the river like I did—in order for the other half of my door to appear?”
Dante didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.
“I’m not going to be a Master of Time like you are, am I?” I asked quietly, all my earlier feelings of hope vanishing for good. “I can’t be, because who will come to the bank and open the door for me? Who could I ask to risk their life or their sanity to even try?” My voice sounded impossibly small. “Who is going to save me?”
Dante wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. “I will,” he said. “I will find a way. I promise.”
But as I listened to his heart beating in his chest, I imagined I could hear the soft sound of time sliding away, as swiftly as sand through an hourglass.
• • •
Later that evening, after we had eaten dinner and Alessandro and Caterina had retired for the night, I stood by the window with Dante, watching the moon rise in the sky. The pale light touched the gray-green winter grass, caught in the barren trees that spread their thin branches into the sky, and blanketed the villas scattered across the landscape.
Dante had once told me that what he missed most about his former life had been the quiet. Now I understood what he meant. The silence of the night was warm and comforting, like the silence of a heavy snowfall.
I only wished my thoughts were as silent or as comforting. Dante seemed confident that we would find an answer to the problem of the broken locket, but I wasn’t so sure. No matter how many different ways I looked at it, I couldn’t see a solution. I reminded myself that at least Zo was suffering from the same problem, though the thought was a small comfort.
Dante sighed, and I peeked a glance at him. The moonlight highlighted the angles of his cheekbones, casting shadows beneath his bandaged eyes. He looked worn out. Worn down. I realized it had been a long time since I’d seen him look so tired.
He ran a hand through his hair and slumped against the wall next to the window.
“Are you okay?” I asked, instantly worried that perhaps his eyes were bothering him or, worse, the wound in his heart was deteriorating.
“I’ll be all right,” he said.
“Something on your mind?”
He shook his head. “It’s strange. Being back here. So much has happened since I last stood here in my family’s home—and yet, in some ways, I feel like nothing has really changed. Except me.” He rubbed at his wrists absently as though he could strip away the gold chains.
I took his hand in mine to stop his restless activity. Gratitude flashed in his smile and he pulled me closer, allowing me to lean against his chest.
He sighed, his voice low and weary. “I remember everything about this place. This is my home. This is where I was born. I never thought I would be here again, experiencing it, feeling it, and there is a part of me that never wants to let it go.” He drew in a deep breath. “I am so grateful for this chance to be here—even for such a short time—but I know I don’t belong here anymore. As much as I want to stay with my family, I know that all this”—he gestured out the window and then at the room around us—“is gone. More than five hundred years gone.” He looked away. “And knowing my family is alive and vibrant—hearing my father’s voice, my mother’s laugh—it almost makes it worse. I feel like I’m trespassing in someone else’s dream.”
“It’s not a dream,” I said. “We’re really here.”
“But for how long? As soon as we leave, the river will wash over this part of the past without even leaving behind a ripple. And everything here—my home, my family, everything—will vanish. Swallowed up as if they had never been.”
I frowned and stepped back. “That’s not true. They were here. They existed, and they matter. What we’re doing here—trying to protect the river—is as much to help us and our families as it is to help everyone. Your neighbors, the priests at the cathedral, all those people who don’t even know they are in danger. Yes, the river will wash them away—it will wash all of us away eventually—but until it does, we can’t live our lives obsessing about the past or mourning the future. We have a responsibility to ourselves and to each other to live every moment of our lives the best we can.”
Dante was quiet for a long moment.
I blushed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.”
“No, I’m glad you did. You’re right. I’ve been so worried about the river, about Zo, about keeping the timeline stable that I’ve forgotten the importance of the here and now.” He brushed my hair behind my ear, his thumb sweeping across my cheek. “And being with you here and now is the best moment I could imagine.”
I turned my face into his touch.
“Except eve
ry moment I spend with you is better than the one before it,” he said. He pulled me back into his arms, and I nestled close against his chest, my body fitting perfectly next to his, finally feeling at peace. Feeling like I was home.
Chapter 19
No, I told you, the rook can only move in a straight line—” Dante tried again.
Dante had spent the last hour trying to explain to Valerie how to play chess, but she seemed to be more interested in making up stories about the war between the knights and the pawns or about how the king and queen met than learning the strategy of the game.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Castles can’t move.” Valerie picked up the black rook. “And where is the princess? Usually castles have princesses inside.”