Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
After the meeting, everyone flocked to the back patio. Marcus was already chattering with the other Order children. It warmed Lia’s chest to see it, but she hung back to observe.
Mirel ushered her mom forward, arm around her shoulder as the two reminisced of times gone by.
How long has it been since they spoke? She couldn’t understand the rigid posture her mom held, but her laughter was easy as Leo chatted from the table.
Having naturally fallen into a host role, he outfitted a plate with several large slices for Reynaldo before working on Adrian’s.
He even served Kayce, whose eyes rolled back into his head at the first bite of cheesy goodness inundated with four types of meat.
Lia couldn’t hold back a chuckle as their gazes caught, several strings of cheese hanging from his mouth. His eyes crinkled at the sound.
The comradery brought Lia closer to the gathering, smiling at some poor joke Reynaldo made. They were all just people, Lia realized as the Order laughed together. All people, who loved stories, with hearts and dreams of their own.
It was a beautiful sight, even in the messiness of it.
Afterward, Lia and Kayce waited for her mom and Leo in the study.
Books were back on their shelves, though with their spines out of alignment.
The papers were stacked, the family picture righted without the frame’s glass.
The secret study’s hidden door was shut.
There were no leads from the police. There likely wouldn’t be.
Lia recalled the corkboard full of snippets from newspapers, the notes. She was fairly certain ImaginX was on there. She wished they’d had more time to look around before Leo came. There could be another note, some clue meant for her to read and understand—
“So how long do you think we’ll be gone?” Kayce asked, looking at the bookshelf like he also wanted to root around inside. “For all we know, weeks could have gone by for our days here.”
Earlier over food, they had come to an unspoken agreement that they were good—as was their way. And they were, if a bit…off. A shift Lia couldn’t linger on, not with what they were about to do.
Leaning against the back of an armchair, Lia pondered his question. “I don’t think it does. Whenever I dreamed of Norenth, it seemed to move in step with time here. At least, the seasons did.”
He nodded from his perch on top of her papa’s desk. “Fair enough. But outside Norenth? I believe anything could be fair play.”
“A wise deduction, Kacerion.” Leo smiled from the doorway, coming in with her mom, who closed the door.
Everyone else had remained downstairs. Marcus had pleaded to join, but since he hadn’t Sparked yet, there was not much he would have been able to witness.
Lia hoped his time would come soon. This was a marvel meant to be shared.
“Time in the Emperium itself, outside of the spheres, moves a bit differently, but not by much from what Flamehearts have gathered,” Leo said. “It’s hard for us to remain in that plane long, considering the side effects—not to mention the gravitational pull of different worlds.”
Her mom nodded with a grimace. “Remember to breathe and to focus. Otherwise, you’ll spiral.”
Seemed simple enough. Then why the sudden tightness in Lia’s chest? She wrung her hands. “Are you guys coming with us?”
Her mom shook her head. “This is typically a journey every Flameheart must make alone. It’s very personal, what you craft with the Smith’s help. A guardian close to your dreaming will guide you there, teach you the basics of how to use the pen.”
Lia noted the paleness of her mom’s skin, making the small smattering of freckles stand out on the bridge of her nose.
They locked gazes before Lia motioned to Kayce—an unspoken request for his presence.
Her mom sighed, but gave a subtle nod. Both of them were likely wondering the same thing: would Lia be able to navigate the Emperium without a pen, just as she had been able to Transcribe the gremlin with only her bare hands?
It was something only time would tell.
“Who’s the guardian?” Lia looked around the room as though a guide would appear from between the shelves.
“There are scores of them,” Leo informed her. “Each world has one. Then there are those who specifically monitor the humans who dream, us Flamehearts who travel.” A smirk danced over his face. “You’ll like her, I think. She volunteered. Quite adamant about it, too.”
“She? I mean, she was?”
“Of course. She’s one of the biggest fans of your work.”
Lia blinked. “My work?”
“We’re getting Norenth’s guardian,” Kayce deduced, hopping off the desk with a flourish. A dark lock slipped from its tie. “Glad to hear I have a fan.”
And there was the urge to throttle him. “You can stay here, you know.”
“And miss out on bestowing an autograph? Only Jace gets pestered for those. Not that I ever minded evading that nonsense. But now that the opportunity presents itself, I must admit, I do see the allure.”
“Just when I thought your head couldn’t get any bigger.”
“It’s the atmosphere here, fluffing my hair a bit. I’m at least trying to keep it in check.” Kayce came over, bumping his shoulder against hers. But he didn’t meet her gaze. “The hair, I mean. Not the ego.”
“Never the ego,” Lia replied.
Especially when you tie your agency to Aurelia’s existence. Lia wanted to squander the bitter reminder. But even as their banter resumed, there was a force to it.
“It’s time, Lia.” Her mom, pen in hand, stood in the center of the study.
The teens watched her mom’s eyes shut. She took several audible breaths, her brow pinched. An awkward minute ticked by. Lia and Kayce exchanged a glance. Didn’t Mom know what to do?
Leo coughed. “Cordelia, I can—”
Hand raised and pen poised before her, her mom’s pen’s crystal tip began to glow in steady pulses. The light flared brighter, and Lia realized the steady thrums were in time with a heartbeat.
The pen’s light surged white like a shooting star.
And then her mom was drawing. She stooped to the carpeted floor, standing again to draw an arch.
A white beam hung in the air like something a sparkler would cast in long-exposure photography.
Lia could still see the desk through the arch until the air shimmered.
Pulsed.
A shift.
Spun like gossamer, a soft light filled the space.
“The guardian will meet you on the other side,” Leo said. “None are allowed on Earth, though they can travel to other spheres.”
Lia took a step forward, forcing her throat to work. “How will I get back?”
A comforting hand landed on her shoulder, turning Lia toward her mom. “When you’re ready, you will do exactly as I did, but envision this room like it is now.”
It was a good thing Lia had a penchant for details.
She chewed her lip, apprehension seizing her.
She didn’t want to mess this up. Didn’t want to fall flat on her face, be the laughing-stock of the Order.
Didn’t want to disappoint Mom. Lia had already failed Kayce, even though he remained beside her. Supported her. She didn’t deserve it.
Seeing her hesitation, her mom pulled Lia into a bone-crushing hug. “Run toward the roar, baby girl,” she murmured in her daughter’s ear. “Like Papa always said.”
Lia smiled into her mom’s shoulder, eyes brimming. The words anchored her. She stepped back, blinking her eyes clear. Lia mustered herself and looked over at Kayce. “Ready?” She held out her hand, scar facing upward.
“With you?” His answering smile finally lit the dark amber of his eyes as he grasped hold. “Always.”
Her breath hitched. It was a reminder; it was a promise. An oath. Lia squeezed his hand tighter. That conversation about what this new reality made them was coming. But it would have to wait.
They approached the archway of shimmering light. Lia held her breath. Kayce squeezed her hand. Together, they took a step into the void. Lia turned at the last second to glimpse her mom’s face.
It was pinched with fear.
Lia felt the lurch in her stomach. Hair lifted on her arms and the back of her neck.
Spots of light and darkness danced behind eyelids screwed shut.
Yes, she was a baby and had kept her eyes shut while stepping through the magical archway that likely disappeared mere seconds after she and Kayce passed through.
It helped stave off the nausea rolling somersaults inside her. At least, that’s what she told herself.
They walked several steps until she felt the warmth of the study dissipate and an atmospheric coolness take its place, clinging to her skin like static. The surrounding silence was loud. It filled her ears.
“Think we’re there?” Kayce’s voice was a pebble dropped into a cavern lake.
Lia’s brows rose, but her eyes remained shut. “You mean your eyes are still closed?”
“I assume that means yours are, too.”
She hummed in agreement. She didn’t want to make noise, like their voices would disturb the hushed presence that seemed to fill the space around them.
With her eyes closed, Lia wagered to guess she was in a room similar to a marbled atrium, walls bedecked with priceless art that spectators couldn’t help but marvel at in silent awe, reverent.
Or perhaps it was a granite cathedral, walls ensconced with stained glass and ceilings painted by hands long since deceased, sacred.
But something felt far more vast about this place, like the feeling of standing atop a ridge in the middle of a mountain range.
Lia took a deep breath. She opened her eyes.
And wished her brother were beside her. Marcus had dragged her out of bed on more than one occasion to observe some extra-terrestrial event through his telescope.
For his last birthday, the Corvines had gone to the local science center to see a show in a planetarium that connected to the Hubble telescope and projected the Milky Way on white tarps all around.
Lia had felt like she was enveloped by the universe itself.