Shivers race from my head to my toes. I need to tell him that I’ve come to save him. That I still love him. That I’m sorry for everything. But my vocal cords stiffen, as if iced over.
My head feels like ice, too. Heavy and deadened. I’m not even sure I’m awake anymore. Maybe this has all been a nightmare. I hold on to the nape of Morpheus’s neck, burying my face in his jacket. Nikki and Chessie burrow into my hair. I inhale Morpheus’s scent. It’s the only thing I recognize, the only thing that’s safe.
He carries me back to the well-lit room and sets me gently on the table. I can’t stop trembling. My throat aches from holding back sobs.
“Calm down, Alyssa.” Morpheus wraps a heavy canvas drop cloth around my shoulders.
Chessie clambers from my shoulder into my lap, his wide emerald eyes asking if I’m okay. Nikki buzzes around my face, patting my temple with her ladybug-size palm—maternal and kind.
My blood flashes hot and cold.
“You look pallid,” Morpheus says, gathering the drop cloth tighter around me. “Are you going to need a bucket?”
I shake my head, fighting off the queasy roil in my gut. “W-w-where’s Jeb? What was that thing—” Shuddering coughs shake my body.
“Shh.” Morpheus places his hands at either side of my hips on the table. His wings enfold us. “Jebediah’s putting it away. He’ll be back shortly. Breathe deeply and concentrate on me. You are safe.”
I take a shallow breath, but it chokes me.
“Look at me,” Morpheus presses. I focus on his complexion, the color of snowy shadows beneath the eclipse of his wings, and he begins to sing. Not inside my mind, since the iron dome prevents it, but aloud . . . a simple, sweet lullaby, carried on his beautiful voice.
“Little blossom so filled with dread, clear the nightmares from your head. Let me wipe away your tears, for in this place you have no fears.”
He used to sing those very lyrics when he became a child and took me to Wonderland in my dreams. I would pull one of his satiny wings across me like a blanket, and the scent of licorice and honey, paired with his beautiful lullaby, would lull me to relaxation. As I listen now, his jewels flash a serene blue, like the surface of an ocean.
With a few deep breaths, I suppress the coughing. “Thank you,” I say.
Morpheus squeezes my shoulders over the drop cloth. “The creature out there wasn’t going to hurt you. It was simply intrigued. It’s seen your face before. All the creations down here have.”
Remembering the barbed wire sketches, I shake my head. “No. The graffiti acted like I was a contagion. They tried to kill me.”
He lifts an eyebrow and trails a fingertip along my neck. “Is that how you got these scratches?”
I nod.
He studies the rips in my sleeves and the burn marks from the shooting stars. “How very curious.”
“They’re monsters.” I clutch the cloth tighter around me.
“Not all of them,” Morpheus corrects. “Little Nikki has the same creator and she’s quite pleasant.” As if to prove his point, Nikki lights next to his hand on my shoulder and strokes my hair.
The same creator. The blood on my tunic’s hem left by the broken-heart sketches . . . the stains look like paint. Just like Jeb’s doppelganger tasted like paint.
Sick awareness tightens my windpipe. The fluorescent fairy and graffiti, Jeb’s disfigured elfin look-alike, and the landscapes on his easels—it all reminds me of when I first stumbled upon my powers . . . the time I inadvertently made a mosaic come alive. I animated it on the wall at my house—dead crickets and winterberries dancing and dripping inside their plaster frame.
“Oh, no,” I say, my voice airy. “It isn’t that Nikki is immune to the consequences of using her magic here. She’s made of magic. Jeb painted her. He painted his look-alike, too. He’s bringing his artwork to life.” The explanation sounds like fiction in spite of how my gut knows it’s true.
A glint of pride reflects back at me from Morpheus’s black eyes. “Splendid deduction. Yes, Jebediah has tapped into netherling gifts. But there’s more to it than that.”
As if satisfied I’m okay, Chessie prances off my thigh and ducks out from under Morpheus’s tented wings. Nikki follows him.
Once they’re both gone, I turn back to Morpheus. “What do you mean, there’s more?”
“Hmm.” His fingers find their way to my neck again, but this time, he catches the strings there and drags out the diary and key before I can stop him. “First, you tell me about this little treasure.” The red glow glosses his face. He tries to open the book, but the magic is too powerful and the key’s too big.
I yank the strings away, tucking them under my tunic once more.
Morpheus studies me. “What are you hiding on those tiny pages, Alyssa? And why?”
I look at him dead-on. “I finally have a secret of my own. Not so fun being on the other side of one, is it?”