I wake from another nightmare, gasping and sweating. It was the same as last time. Roth hunting me through the crystal caverns and the forest. The Specters Gripping me in the snow. The same gaping void in my chest as I knelt on the foundation stone at the center of the Cradle. The same terrible knowledge that Dad and Violet were dead and it was all my fault. The same terror as the power got away from me and sparked the Cradle Sea. That same whispered voice.
Return.
But this time, the nightmare kept going. I saw a world of ice, a world of water, a world of misty mountains, a world on fire. I saw dark swamps and bustling Otherworldly villages. Foreign cities and peaceful temples. I saw Manor gateways opening in caves and cliffsides—on mountain tops and under enormous, ancient trees—and the Cradle Sea bursting through them all in tidal waves of shining, white-fire water. I saw the townsfolk of Bluehaven running for cover as the Sea poured down the Sacred Stairs and decimated everything in its path. I saw Winifred Robin, wrapped in her crimson cloak, staring down the deluge as it swallowed Outset Square. I heard the screams of the people. Felt nothing but despair when they were gone.
This time, I saw Dad sinking in the dark. Dead.
It’s a wonder I didn’t cause a quake while I was sleeping.
I’m shivering. The torches have burned out. I can see the sickle moon through the balcony door. Violet’s fast asleep on the bed to my left, clutching a chair leg as a weapon. Hickory’s still sleeping on my right. Apart from Aki’s soft rattle-snores in the next room, it’s deathly quiet. No drumming. No cheering.
The party’s over.
I step onto the balcony, bracing myself against the cold. Take in the flat, silver desert. The clear sky awash with stars. Ledges and balconies dot the cliff-face around me. I lean over the edge a little. We’re so high up, I can barely see the path we climbed to get here. It’s a dizzying sight, almost as sickening as my nightmare.
The Manor’s been calling to you, Jane, Violet said, all your life.
You have to listen.
To what? My fears? My own brain turning against me?
I rub my temples, try to clear my head, but I can’t stop thinking about Dad. While we’re crossing this salty sandpit of a world, he’s stuck inside the Manor at the mercy of a madman. How many times has Roth trawled through his mind? How much information has he gleaned?
We’re wasting precious time.
“Hang in there, Dad.” I cast the words out across the desert, through the salt pan gateway, along the winding Manor corridors, into Roth’s fortress and Dad’s cell. I imagine the words sneaking into his ears while he sleeps. “Hold on.”
“Talking to yourself, Doe?” Hickory’s lurking in the doorway behind me, eyes downcast, a blanket draped around his shoulders. I fold my arms. “What?” he says.
“I’m just waiting for my thank you. I saved your life.”
“Yeah, well, nobody asked you to.” He runs a hand over his shear-nicked head. Freezes when Aki rattle-snores extra loud in the next room. “Tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”
“It is,” I say. “But it’s okay. I think Aki’s”—I can’t believe I’m about to say this—“a good Leatherhead. Gorani, I mean. That’s what they call them here.”
“Aki? Oh, this gets better and better. You should pick up a Tin-skin while you’re at it. It could sleep at the foot of your bed.”
“Hickory. Look at me.”
His head twitches. He kicks at a stone. Still isn’t used to all this open sky. I can’t imagine how strange it must be for him, the simple fact of being outside. I reach out to him. “It isn’t gonna hurt you.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Hickory lifts his head and looks at the stars. The moonlight catches in his eyes. He draws in a sharp breath, holds it, steps out onto the balcony and exhales. He looks like a little boy in awe of the wonders of the world. For a second, I’m sure he’s gonna smile. Until he clears his throat and stares at his feet again. “So. You’re the third key, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Should’ve seen it coming, really.”
“Maybe.” I rub at the bandage around my palm. “I mean, I guess it makes sense.”
Hickory stares at my hand for a moment and sighs, as if that’s all we need to say about it. He twitches his head at our room. “Where are we? What is this place?”
“Orin-kin. An outpost on the way to Asmadin.”
“And what’s in Asmadin?”
“The second key.”
“I see.” He turns to the door. “Well, good luck.’”
‘You’re coming, too, Hickory.”
He stops. “You couldn’t wait to banish me back in the Manor. You said once you found Elsa, you wouldn’t need me anymore. Unless”—he turns back to me—“she doesn’t quite have all the answers you were hoping for. She still hasn’t told you where the Cradle is, has she?”
“We’re working on it.”
“But it’s worse than that.” He gasps, really laying it on thick. “You don’t trust her. And after everything we went through to find her. That’s a shame.”
This guy. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” I say. “I thought—”
“What? That I’d get all teary-eyed because you jumped into a pit for me? You thought I’d see the light and help you save the worlds? Let’s get something straight here. You and me? We’re not friends. I’ve known you for, what, a week? I’m two thousand years old, remember? You’re a speck, Doe. You and Violet. A couple of blips in my life.”
“Blips?” I say. “We got you out of the Manor.”
“And that’s worked out really well for me so far. Thank you.”
“I know you care about us.”
“I’ve been using you, Jane. I wanted to—”
“Claim the Cradle and tear the Manor apart. We know.”
“So why do you want me sticking around?”
“Because I don’t think you would’ve gone through with it. You can be a real jerk, but you’re not evil. We need your help, Hickory. Please.”
“Oh, you need help, all right. You couldn’t be further from the Cradle, you still don’t have the second key, and your only way back to the Manor’s through the bad guy’s gateway, not to mention the fact that your new sidekick’s a Leatherhead and your guide’s a raging alcoholic. I’d say the odds of you stopping Roth and saving the worlds are a billion to one.”
That’s the last straw. “First, Aki isn’t my sidekick. He’s just staying the night. Second . . . okay, Elsa probably is an alcoholic, but third, there’s another way back inside the Manor. And we know where the second key is, so we basically kind of have it already.”
“Basically kind of. That’s a relief.”
I step right up to Hickory. “It all comes down to this, skinhead. We need you, and you need us, whether you admit it or not. But if you mess this up—if you try to cross me again or try to get yourself killed—I swear I’ll take you back to the Manor, lock you in some random, empty room and make sure nobody finds you. Ever. Again.”
“Big words, little Doe.” Hickory narrows his eyes. “You really believe it, don’t you? You really think I’m one of the good guys.”
“I’m betting my life on it. Push comes to shove, you’ll be standing right by our side.”
“You don’t know me at all, then.” Hickory turns back to the room. “I’m going back to bed. I assume you’ll be leaving at first light. Don’t bother waking me when you go.”
Alone once more, I look at the stars and steady my shaking hands.
How do I get Hickory on our side? How can I make him see?
I’m about to head inside when something smashes on a balcony down to my left. A bottle. I lean over the edge and look up. Spot a glimmer of torchlight on the highest balcony, way up near the top of the cliff. A shifting shadow.
I step back inside, wrap a blanket around my shoulders and slip on my sandals.
I’m sick of being kept in the dark.
She still hasn’t told you where the Cradle is, has she?
Hickory’s asleep already.
What if she’s stalling?
Violet’s still sleeping, too.
I know we agreed we’d talk to Elsa together in the morning, but she’s probably alone and, seeing as there’s no way I’m getting any more sleep tonight, I might as well nip upstairs and grill her now.
And the truth is, I want to do this alone.
This is between me and Elsa.