The Keep of Ages (The Vault of Dreamers #3)

“In California.” I let my gaze travel to the window and out to the sunny sky.

I fill him in about my messages from Dubbs and Berg, and coming to Lavinia’s, and my plan to look for my family at Grisly. I warn him about ten times that I don’t want the police involved. In return, Burnham tells me about Ian’s pill, the red Echo 8, which is a sleep aid. The yellow double theta is a stimulant. Fister produces a slightly different version that’s used for depression. He also discovered that Fister does sell pharmaceuticals in the Miehana area, but nothing stands out as unusual.

“Did you connect all right with your friend Thea?” Burnham asks.

“Yes. Thanks. And I have something I need to tell you.” Shifting on the bed, I cross my bare legs pretzel style and rake my hair back from my forehead. “The only thing is, you have to promise not to tell anybody,” I say. “Not Sammi or your brother or your parents. Especially not your parents.”

“I won’t,” he says. “I promise.”

“You’re going to have trouble believing it.”

“Just spit it out.”

I launch into the complicated story of how my consciousness split in two, and half of me ended up in another body, Thea’s body. I leave out how suspicious and mean I was to her at first, until she convinced me who she was. “She was pregnant, too,” I say. “We have all the same memories up to the point when we were put in the Onar Clinic, but I swear she came out nicer than I am. I ended up helping her have her baby that same night I went to the dean’s tower at Forge, and we’re friends now. She’s back in Texas with her family,” I add. “She’s having a lot of headaches, and that’s a bad sign.”

Burnham makes a skeptical humming noise. “And you’re positive about all this,” he says.

I nod. “Absolutely. I warned you. You can ask her if you don’t believe me. She can tell you anything about our time at Forge before you left. You can ask her about the note you gave me. The one with the P.S. about the lady knight.”

I can hear him clicking around on his computer in the background.

“She was at the Chimera Centre, you say? Look at this stuff!” he says. “If this is all true, do you realize what it could mean for medical science?”

“You’re making me nervous,” I say. “Don’t get excited.”

“This makes so much more sense now,” he says. “No wonder Berg was taking such chances. Rosie, this is huge. If what you’re saying is true, you and Thea are huge!”

“We are not huge,” I say. “You are not telling anybody about this.”

“Are you kidding?” he says. “You have to let me tell my parents!”

My heart goes still.

“Burnham Fister,” I say. “On the soul of your grandfather who you helped kill, you are not going to say a word to your parents! You promised me!”

The clicking stops. I can practically hear his shock in the stillness.

“We’re done,” he says.

I wait for the sound of him hanging up, but it doesn’t come. Is he expecting me to apologize? I pull my knees up to my chest and squeeze myself together.

“I’m sorry,” I say stiffly. “I take that back. But you have to understand. You can’t tell anybody. If you do, I’ll deny every word, and I’ll never speak to you again.”

From down below in the kitchen comes the growing whistle of the teakettle, and then it fades.

“I’m coming out there,” Burnham says. “What’s your address?”

“No.”

“Rosie, I’m coming. We have to talk in person.”

“Are you keeping your promise?”

“I will. But we need to talk,” he says. “I’m not sure you realize. My parents are the good guys. They use their research to help people, Rosie, and what’s happened to you could change the world.”

I shake my head. “You’re sounding like Berg,” I say. “I realize exactly what’s at stake, but I’m not going to sacrifice myself for any cure. I just want to save my parents.”

“I get it, believe me. You’ve suffered,” Burnham says. “So have I. Can I just ask you one thing, though? Are you glad Thea’s alive?”

His words catch at my heart. I tilt my head back to look at the ceiling. Of course I’m glad Thea’s alive, but that doesn’t mean I want a thousand more versions of me running around like her. Not that she’s actually me anymore. But still. He’s oversimplifying.

“Why do you always mix me up?” I ask.

“I don’t. Just don’t do anything until we talk, okay? I can be there in a few hours.”

I shake my head. I am not going to let him slow me down. “No. Thanks, but no.”

“Rosie!”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Wait!” he says.

But I hang up.

Burnham seriously disturbs me. I just knew he’d want to tell his parents, but if he does, and they start an investigation, then what Chimera did to Thea with my dreams will be all over the news. Every brain researcher on the planet will want a sample of my dreams to experiment with. I’ll never be safe again.

I pull on my jeans, take up my map, and head downstairs to the kitchen, where Lavinia’s reading a crisp newspaper. She’s wearing a silvery-gray outfit today with a fancy brooch, and I wonder if she’s dressed up for my sake or if she’s always like this. NPR plays low from an old radio. Sunlight reflects on the faucet and sink, and a basket of scones and a pot of apricot jam are laid out on the table.

“Did you bake these?” I ask. “I didn’t even hear you.”

“Help yourself.”

I slide my drawing onto the table and take a scone. Cutting it in half, I try it with a dab of butter, which melts into the warm, white tastiness. I can hardly believe how good it is.

“Oh, my gosh,” I say, in raptures.

With a rustle, she sets her newspaper aside. “Glad you like it. Have another.”

I will, for sure.

“My grandmother used to read the newspaper,” I say.

“Is that right?”

I haven’t thought about my grandma in a long time. She let me sit on her lap and showed me the funnies. She would read each bubble of words aloud as I pointed to it. Sometimes I would go backward, and she’d read the words in backward order. I loved that. It was like my finger magically controlled her voice.

“Would this be your mother’s mother or your father’s?” Lavinia asks.

“My father’s,” I say. “She died when I was little. I never knew my other grandparents. They all died before I was born.” I look thoughtfully across at her. “Do you have other family besides your daughter and your granddaughter?” I ask.

Caragh M. O'Brien's books