CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Despite what Geneva has to say, I’m not given long to wallow, because Everest informs me the next day that the carousel is ready for our trip.
We’re all jittery – Everest, Valentin, Beam, Ender, and me – as we congregate by the carousel.
I haven’t seen much of any of them since the eclipse, but based on the way they’re acting around me, I imagine Valentin and Geneva filled them in on our conversations.
This won’t do. I’m nervous enough about this trip, about where it will take us, if it’ll take us back home.
What I’m supposed to do if I end up at home.
What happens if I don’t end up at home. The carousel hasn’t tried snatching any ghostly limbs recently, but I can sense its temperament balancing on a knife’s edge, and I’m not interested in feeling how sharp the consequences of additional failure are.
I muster up the minuscule amount of enthusiasm from the arid pit that is my chest to ask, “Who wants to tell Valentin the rules?”
Beam, bless her soul, seizes the opportunity to crack the iceberg of tension we’re encased in.
“Rule number one: leave before the string shrinks,” she announces with a sage nod. “I almost got lost once.”
Valentin noticeably pales.
“We won’t let you get lost,” I assure her.
Ender, not one to be outdone by Beam, chimes in. “Rule number two: prepare for all scenarios.”
“Including landing underwater,” Everest says cheerily.
Based on how Valentin sways, I don’t think telling her the rules was a good idea. I jab the insolent time god with my elbow. “Stop freaking her out. We are not going to land underwater.”
“You can’t promise that,” Ender scolds. “That’s why we have to prepare.”
Valentin’s words are barely a whisper. “I can’t swim.”
“I’ll help you,” Beam promises, but it doesn’t put our guest at any sort of ease.
I send a silent prayer to the carousel to help us avoid any body of water. “Let’s get the rest of this over with. Rule number three?”
“No interference with the timeline,” Beam says quickly, sticking her tongue out at Ender when she beats him to it.
“Is that even possible anymore?” Valentin asks. “Isn’t all of this some sort of interference?”
“Any interference outside of the issue we’re trying to fix,” I explain, even though her words dislodge something uncomfortable in me.
The truth is, a lot of lines have been blurred, and the rules I’ve clung to for some semblance of structure are ringing hollow.
Something that Everest is keen to remind us of.
The god clears his throat. “Rule number four is to always keep Everest happy and–”
“Rule number four is to never mention Everest,” I interrupt, frowning at him.
“Oh, yeah?” Everest says, reaching a hand up to my face. I stop breathing, thinking he’s going to cup my cheek, and it’s madness really, how my entire body tenses and zeros in on the point of near contact. Instead, he plucks a bit of fluff from my hair. “How’s that going for you?”
Not well at all.
“It served me better before you got involved.” I’m embarrassingly breathless and both Ender and Beam are giggling so hard, I wish I could knock their heads together. Gently, of course.
“And you’re certain we won’t be seen?” Valentin asks, throwing me a safety line. I give her a grateful smile, then assess her outfit. She’s dressed like me – comfortable trousers and a long sleeve shirt – except she’s also got a small bag with her few belongings. Just in case she doesn’t come back.
I force myself to look away from the delicate tassels that hang from her waist. “As long as no one goes off-script this time–” I direct this at Everest with a meaningful glance “–we should be okay.”
Valentin squares her shoulders, studying the swirling carousel with determination. “Alright, how do we do this?”
Everest is already threading a fresh line through the carousel. He hands one end to Valentin. “Pass it on.”
“You might feel sick,” I warn her once we’re all in place, hands on the thread, bodies square against the carousel. My mind’s gone completely blank, and I’m certain I’m dissociating in a very critical moment, but thank goodness for muscle memory. “Hold on tight.”
I take one step towards the carousel, and the world drops around us.
We’re momentarily suspended in nothingness before gravity exerts its force on us, and then we slam onto cold, hard tiles.
Centuries of practice leave me and the ghosts upright, but both Everest and Valentin sprawl on either side of me.
We’re greeted by the scratch of a needle on a record, the soft pulse of music swallowing us whole.
“Are we in someone’s home?” Valentin asks as I help her to her feet. She’s definitely green, almost matching the potted plants lining the windowsill. They might bear the brunt of her motion sickness.
“It’s not as uncommon as you think,” I whisper, nodding at Ender. He pulls at one end of the string and heads out to explore. “What remains unpredictable is whether the home’s occupants are currently here with us.”
“Uhh, Ryka, you might want to look outside,” Everest says, tugging at my wrist. I join him by the window, and my head empties of thought.
The sky is a brilliant purple that I’ve never seen before, and its canvas is filled with the most unusual skyline. Strange black wires section the sky, and from where we’re standing, it looks like small gondola-like structures swing across the city.
“Where are we?” Valentin asks. She scans the road below and frowns. “Wait, I know this street. This is where I grew up.”
If this is where Valentin grew up, I should recognize it too. But the street remains as unfamiliar as someone I once crossed paths with on a train.
“So it has brought us closer to you,” I say, unease spreading through me. “But we’re still not in the right time. Which means there’s another issue to untangle.”
“Are we in my future?” Valentin asks, pushing aside the obtrusive plant stems to lean out. “Oh, wow, we’re much higher than I expected.”
Looking down is a mistake. My stomach flip flops as I take in the distance between us and the road, where ant-like people crawl across the grey concrete.
We’re at least a hundred stories high, closer to the sky than the ground.
That same, ominous presence sends pinpricks throughout my scalp, as though someone is studying us from a birdseye view.
I’m acutely aware of how small we are suspended in this giant, unrecognizable city.
I whirl, but the only people behind me are Beam and Everest. The latter gives me a curious look.
“Red alert, red alert!” Ender says, swooping back inside and sending us scrambling in different directions. “Everyone hide right now; these people, they pop up out of–”
Valentin is the only one who manages to get back inside the closet when a brilliant blue flash strikes the middle of the room like lightning, and a woman simply appears out of it. I’m not sure who’s more stunned. Was that strange feeling of being watched nothing but a premonition?
“Why, I was not expecting to find people here,” she says, smoothing her black pencil skirt.
She’s wearing a pink silk blouse and navy heels that put her a few inches above me.
There’s a strange screen in her hand that beeps loudly, but she doesn’t seem too concerned by it.
“You must be early, but that’s okay. We can start your tour now. ”
Tour?
I look at Everest, panicked, but he flashes the woman a bright smile. “Apologies for the inconvenience, we were just so excited to get started.”
We are what?
“He’s good,” Beam says. She floats up to the woman’s screen and studies what’s written there. “I think this is some sort of home tour. Is she a realtor?”
I try my best to not look at Beam, and instead attempt a smile like Everest’s, failing miserably. Thankfully, the woman seems too entranced by him to pay me and my rapidly fluttering heart much attention.
“You look like a sweet couple,” the woman says, looking between us.
“Oh, we’re not–” I start to say, but Everest slips his arm around my waist, drawing me closer to his side.
“Thank you,” he says. “We just got married last week, actually.”
Then he leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. My heart stops, and I’m positive that my cheeks must be a bright, flaming red.
“Ah, newlyweds!” the woman says, beaming from ear to ear. “Even better. You’re exactly the kind of people we’d love to have join us here at The Future Estate, you fit the demographic so well.”
“That’s what it says here!” Beam exclaims, pointing at the screen, all while I’m still scrambling to get a hold of myself as Everest’s hand slips lower to my hip. “It’s the name of the complex you’re in. It says ‘in ode to the golden artifacts of the past’.”
“Let me see that,” Ender says, nudging Beam hard so she flies through the woman.
The realtor shudders, frowning at the open window. “Quite a chill here, isn’t there? Let me close that for us and then we can get started.”
As she heads to the window, I signal at Ender and Beam to cut it out, drawing a hand across my neck. Everest grabs hold of my wrist and pulls it behind his back so I’m holding him, too.
“Stop looking like someone’s dangling you out of that window,” he murmurs into my ear. His fingers thread through mine, and each graze of his skin sends a delicious wave of heat through my body. “It can’t be that awful to be my wife, can it?”
The weight of our conversation hangs heavy between us. He’s studying me, waiting for a reply.
The woman comes back around to us before I get the chance to gather my thoughts.
She extends a hand in our direction. “I forgot to introduce myself, even though I know we communicated via telegram. I’m Phoebe Kung.
My family founded the estate, so I should be able to answer any questions you have as we walk around. ”
“Nice to meet you, Phoebe,” Everest says, taking her hand. “We did our research before coming here, of course, but could you tell us about this place in, uh, your own words?”
“So smart,” Beam sighs, looking longingly in our direction.
Phoebe looks all too pleased. “Of course! The Future Estate was established as an ode to the past–”
“Told you,” Beam says.
“–adapted for the modern world. My parents are archaeologists, as you may have read, and have been fascinated with artifacts from the past. As you can see from the design around you, this home is filled with some of their favorite finds, pieces of technology that are no longer produced today.” She gestures at the record player, which is spinning a jade-green vinyl.
The tour is fascinating. The apartment looks a lot like others I’ve seen: it’s a quaint two-bedroom, two-bathroom unit, fully furnished and filled with bits of nostalgia.
Hanging plants wreathe the walls, and a vintage guitar sits in the corner of the cozy living room whose walls are covered with colorful artwork and painted rugs that look soft enough to roll around in.
Phoebe explains the history of each piece, and her face lights up with each story she tells.
“Did you consider archaeology as well?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “I did at first, but then I got swept up with The Future Estate when my parents had only started to conceptualize it. I think I love this part of the past, curating it and sharing it with other people. Not sure I’m cut out for fieldwork.”
I give her a small smile, just as the string around my hand gives a tug.
I frown. It feels weaker than usual, tenuous in its insistence, like it’s exhausted.
I remember our last trip, when the line felt fragile and thin, but I’d ignored it then.
I can’t do the same now. We’ve managed to pull off this deception, but our real mission still lies ahead, and we’ve barely had the chance to examine the source of the rot.
I lean my head into Everest’s chest, who tenses briefly before wrapping an arm around me.
“Could I have some water, please?” I ask Phoebe. “I’m starting to feel lightheaded.”
“Oh, of course!” she says. “Unfortunately, we don’t have running water here, what with our conservation efforts. But there’s some right outside if you give me a moment. Does teleportation make you dizzy as well? My sister has that issue; she gets terrible vertigo.”
Well, that explains her magical appearance in the home.
Everest steps in front of me, his fingers running through my hair.
Instinctively, I lean into the sensation.
It’s a miracle how well I’ve handled this deviation from our original plan, but it’s helped having him here next to me.
“Terrible vertigo. I used to tease her saying that she’s just looking for an excuse to fall into my arms,” he tells Phoebe.
I give his arm a hard pinch, but his grin doesn’t waver. Phoebe chuckles and hurries out towards the exit.
Once the door swings shut, I step back, holding up my hand. “We have to move fast.”
“I know,” Everest says, looking to Ender. “Can you see where the rot leads? Is it another home, is it in this building?”
Ender looks between us, confused. “Haven’t you noticed?” he asks. “The string ends with Phoebe.”