Lena shook her head, watching as he wrote. “No. I don't belong there anymore. I would've ended up hurting them. I hurt everyone who loves me.”
“Lena —” It was pointless. She couldn't hear me.
“It won't be like that when we get to the Great Barrier. There's no Light or Dark, no Naturals or Cataclysts, only magic in its purest form. Which means no labels or judgments.”
They were staring at her hand as John moved the marker around her wrist. The way their heads were bent, they were almost touching. Lena rotated her wrist slowly in his hand. “I'm scared.”
“I would never let anything happen to you.” He tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear, the way I used to. I wondered if she remembered.
“It's hard to imagine a place like that really exists. People have been judging me my whole life.” Lena laughed, but I could hear the edge in her voice.
“That's why we're going. So you can finally be yourself.” His shoulder twitched awkwardly, and he grabbed it, wincing. He shook it off before Lena noticed. But not before I did.
“Myself? I don't even know who that is.” Lena stepped away from the wall and looked out into the night. The streetlight outlined her profile, and I could see her necklace shining.
“I'd like to know,” John leaned into Lena. He was speaking so softly, I could barely hear the words.
Lena looked tired, but I recognized her crooked half-smile. “I'll introduce you if I ever meet her.”
“You cats ready to go?” Ridley walked out of the building, sucking on a cherry-red lollipop.
Lena turned around, and as she did, the light caught her hand — the one John had been writing on. But there were no words. It was inked in black designs. They were the same designs I had seen on her hands at the fair, and along the edges of her notebook. Before I could see anything else, my point of view shifted away from them, and all I could see was a wide street and the wet cobblestones in front of me. Then nothing.
I don't know how long I stood there, holding on to the sink. It felt like I would pass out if I let go. My hands were shaking, my legs buckling underneath me. What just happened? It wasn't a vision. They were so close, I could've reached out and touched her. Why couldn't she hear me?
It didn't matter. She had really done it — run away, just like she said she would. I didn't know where she was, but I had seen enough of the Tunnels to recognize them.
She was gone, headed for the Great Barrier, wherever it was. It didn't have anything to do with me anymore. I didn't want to dream it or see it or hear about it.
Forget about it. Go back to sleep. That's what I needed to do.
Jump or stay in the boat.
What a screwed-up dream. As if it was up to me. This boat was sinking, with or without me.
I let go of the sink long enough to heave into the toilet and stumble back to my room. I walked over to the stacks of shoe boxes along the wall, the boxes that held everything important to me, or anything I wanted to hide. For a second, I stood there. I knew what I was looking for, but I didn't know which box it was in.
Water like glass. I thought of it when I remembered the dream.
I tried to remember where to find it. Which was ridiculous, because I knew what was in every single one of those boxes. At least, I knew yesterday. I tried to think, but all I could see were the seventy or eighty boxes stacked around me. Black Adidas, green New Balance … I couldn't remember.
I had opened about twelve boxes before I found the black Converse one. The carved wooden box was still inside. I lifted the smooth, delicate sphere from its velvet lining. The impression of the sphere remained in the velvet, dark and crushed, as if it had been there a thousand years.
The Arclight.
It had been my mother's most valuable possession, and Marian had given it to me. Why now?
In my hand, the pale orb began to reflect the room around me until the curved surface was alive and swirling with colors. It was glowing, a pale green. I could see Lena again in my mind, and hear her. I hurt everyone I love.
The glow began to fade, and once again the Arclight was black and opaque, cold and lifeless in my hand. But I could still feel Lena. I could sense where she was, as if the Arclight was some kind of compass leading me to her. Maybe there was something to this Wayward thing, after all.
Which made no sense, because the last place I wanted to be was wherever Lena and John were. So why was I seeing them?
My mind was racing. The Great Barrier? A place where there was no Light and no Dark? Was that possible?
There was no point trying to sleep now.
I pulled on a crumpled Atari T-shirt. I knew what I had to do.
Together or not, this was bigger than Lena and me. Maybe it was as big as the Order of Things, or Galileo realizing the Earth revolved around the sun. It didn't matter if I didn't want to see it. There were no coincidences. I was seeing Lena and John and Ridley for a reason.
But I had no idea what it was.
Which is why I had to go talk to Galileo herself.