She looked out the window, and at first all she saw was her own pale reflection staring back at her. It was shocking how much she was starting to look like a Fury. Like Ty, who had once seemed so exotic and beautiful. It wasn’t that their features matched perfectly, or that their complexions were the exact same shade. It was in their abysslike eyes, in the curve of their lips. They looked like daughters of the same underworld.
As she shrank away instinctively from her own image, the glass became more translucent; the moon was coming out from behind a cloud and all of a sudden she could see into a beautiful backyard. Everything beyond the glass seemed to be giving off a mesmerizing red glow.
The garden. Like the one in her dream.
That’s where the flowers were. That’s where her flower was. Looking at them made her chest swell in anticipation. Her life was in that garden.
Bing-bing. The text message chime lurched her back to reality. Back into “Em” mode.
It was JD. Where are you? Not at play? Need to see you. Now.
Em looked down at her phone, then back up at the window. Now, when she looked outside, she saw nothing but a blank expanse of dirt, and gravel being tossed by the wind. The flowers were gone. Shit. Her palms began to sweat. What the hell . . . ? She’d seen the garden there, just a second ago. So close. Had she done something to make it appear? Or was she hallucinating?
Maybe she had to channel her Fury-self to get into that garden. Kind of like Crow had kept saying—he was going to give in to the darkness; he was going to channel the forces that had brought them. Something like self-hypnosis. Just a few minutes. Just long enough to see the garden, find the white flower, and end this once and for all. Maybe the garden was locked, somehow, protected against intruders by the Furies’ power.
Eating the seeds would break the curse. Eating the seeds would make her human again. Whole again. She would be free. She took a shuddering breath. If she was free, was she casting this curse onto someone else?
And if so, did she care?
There was a sound in the distance, screeches of laughter that morphed at the last minute into a scream.
She was close now. And they were coming.
Placing her back against the wall, Em slid down to the floor. She shut off her phone. She put her head against her knees and prepared to enter the darkness one final time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Where am I?” Skylar’s voice trembled on the dark, bare stage. Her face was lit in a purple glow. The audience was silent in its seats. “Fled is the kindly light; deep darkness blinds my eyes; and the sky, buried in gloom, is hidden away.”
She covered her face in her hands and JD turned a knob on the light board, fading the purple glow into a deeper, reddish gleam. He was sitting in the auditorium booth, his left knee bobbing anxiously up and down, trying to focus on hitting his cues but hardly able to concentrate. They were halfway through Act Two, and JD was counting the minutes until he could escape, grab Melissa, and perform the ritual described in Mr. Feiffer’s letter.
“You’re more nervous than the actors,” Ned whispered.
“Just got a lot on my mind,” JD said back, sliding one of the dimmers up to the top of the lighting console. Skylar was bathed now in a rich, red spotlight. The madness was starting to overtake her character; her head was thrown back in despair, revealing a creamy, birdlike neck.
JD’s ribs felt tight. He wished desperately that Em had come with her parents to the play. She needed to know what he was planning to do—and why. If she’d been here tonight, he would have taken the leap and told her everything. That he loved her. That he would do anything to save her. That he’d found a way to banish the Furies for good, while keeping everyone safe. He wouldn’t be too late, like Mr. Feiffer had been.
He thought of the way it would feel to put his hand on Em’s waist and pull her toward him. He imagined finally kissing her the way he’d wanted to for so long.
“Dude, blackout. Blackout!” Ned nudged JD’s arm, and JD scrambled to hit the correct button, which plunged the stage to black. “Let’s hope the audience thought that was a dramatic pause.”
“Sorry,” JD said. “I spaced.” As he brought the lights back up for the curtain call, he pulled out his pocket watch to look at the time. Almost ten o’clock. He had to hurry.
Out in the lobby with his family and Em’s parents, JD cracked his knuckles and absently dismissed any congratulations thrown his way. He had to think—fast—of a way to get Melissa out of there.
“Mel, want to get some late ice cream? The place up on Route Twenty-Two is still open.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Why?”
“Because I have a craving for rocky road, that’s why,” he said.
“You buying?” Melissa asked. “You owe me.”
“You have no idea,” JD said drily. And then, to his parents: “Don’t wait up. We’re going to have sibling-bonding time.”
“All right,” JD’s dad said. “Don’t go too crazy. And be careful—the storm may have cleared but it’s still slippery out there.”