Toward a Secret Sky

I wondered if the rose necklaces were regularly traded among Abbey girls. I’d just given mine to Hunter, and here I was getting a replacement from Gia. I slipped it over my head.

“For luck?” I said.

“No,” she stated. “For Anders. You use it against that manky rotter when you see him.”

How did she know about Anders? Oh yeah, I’d been thinking about him and the maze and Gavin murdering him . . . How exactly is a flower necklace supposed to help me against a demon?

“You’ll figure it out,” she said. “You always do.” I hoped she was right. Right about Anders, and wrong about Gavin.

Gavin. Being separated from him made me restless, like a wild animal locked in a cage. I had to see him. Immediately. I had to leave.

I grabbed my bag, thanked Gia, and left Magnificat the same way I’d come: running.





CHAPTER 30


As I got closer to Exodus, waves of excitement and anticipation washed over me with every step. If I didn’t calm down, I could jeopardize Gavin’s and my ability to be together. No one could know about our love . . . at least, not yet. I forced myself to slow to a nice, respectable walk. I took a deep breath and rounded the corner to the bridge.

Gavin was standing in the middle, next to the fiery guards, waiting. For me. He’d folded his hands in front of him, which emphasized his broad shoulders. His hair was tousled, as usual. He was even more beautiful than I remembered. He smiled when he saw me, a polite smile, but as I came closer, I saw that his eyes were shining.

“Miss Maren,” he said in a formal voice, as I stopped in front of him.

“Hello,” I said. I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from smiling too widely.

We climbed the ramp toward the ceiling as properly as any human girl and Guardian angel ever did.



The Exodus ramp ended at an unassuming wooden door. Gavin held it open for me, and we crossed into a small, dingy room filled with oily mechanical cogs, belts, and rotating wheels. A long pipe suspended from the ceiling through a slot in the floor above us swung back and forth with a clicking noise. On it, a metal canister was mounted near the bottom, its top covered in pennies.

I stopped walking. The room felt familiar somehow, but unlike in the bog, it wasn’t because I’d been there before. Not even in my dreams.

“They change the number of pennies on the pendulum every day to keep the clock running within four-fifths of a second,” I blurted out.

Gavin eyed me. “How did you know we were in a clock?”

“Good guess?” I shrugged. The truth was I had no idea where we were. I quickly realized the sudden knowledge must be an ancestral memory. I wondered who from my family had been in here before . . . and why.

Gavin was staring at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “At least, I can’t put my finger on it. I adore you, you know, but there’s something else. Something special about you, Maren.”

“Yeah, ‘Special Ed,’” I quipped.

“No, I mean it. You have a light. There’s an aura about you. You were meant for something amazing.” He beamed. Does anyone give out better compliments? My heart lit my face.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re almost out.”

I followed him down a short hallway, to a large door with a cathedral-peaked top cut horizontally by a heavy metal bar. He shoved on it, and cool, fresh air hit my face. We emerged onto a four-lane bridge stuffed with pedestrians and traffic. Gavin strode quickly ahead, and I jogged to keep up. He seemed determined to put as much distance between us and Magnificat as he could.

As we crossed the bridge, I looked down at the churning muddy water below.

“Is it the River Thames?” I asked. Gavin nodded.

Deafening chimes rose above the city noise as giant bells rang a familiar tune: BONG, BONG, BONG. I glanced over my shoulder for the first time, to see where we’d come from.

Big Ben, the iconic London clock tower, rose behind me. No freakin’ way.

Gavin grabbed my hand, and we broke into a run.



Once we were off the bridge, Gavin pulled me into a bright red telephone box. The glass windows were completely covered with faded stickers and advertisements, allowing the booth to be both bright and private.

“We made it,” he breathed, smiling at me. My heart thumped against my ribcage.

“I know,” I answered. “Barely.”

“I was so worried about you,” he said.

“I was worried about you,” I countered.

“Och, I’m fine.” He grinned. “Except for not being able to see you. That was bloody murder.”

“I kept my promise. I stayed alive,” I said. “Thanks to Alfred.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. His blue eyes blazed, sending shivers down my back. He leaned toward me. I sucked in my breath. The walls of the phone booth shuddered. Someone was banging on the door.

“Hurry up in there!” a male voice hollered. Who still uses a payphone?

Gavin retreated with a smirk. “I guess we have company. We’d better get going. We need to get the antidote back to Aviemore and Jo. I just wanted to take a second to tell you I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I said, scooting around to open the door. Hearing Jo’s name had dropped a lump of guilt in my gut. What kind of terrible person even thinks about making out in a phone booth when her friend is dying? Maybe Rielly was right. Maybe I was bad for him.

I wondered what I would do if I had to choose between being with him and saving my friend. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Yet.





CHAPTER 31


On the crowded train ride home, we never dared to kiss, but I did rest my head on his shoulder for the entire journey. The gentle rocking of the car, along with the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his chest, almost made me forget we’d been running for our lives just days earlier. Almost.

When we got back to Aviemore, it was well after midnight. Gavin made noise about taking me right to my grandparents’ house, but I wasn’t having it. I had to see Jo.

We were in Gavin’s car, pulling up to the hospital. He parked in a dark corner of the parking lot, as far away from the streetlights as possible. A mist rolled over the blacktop, making it look like we were outside a haunted insane asylum rather than a local medical center. The place creeped me out, and I was glad I was with Gavin.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, watching my breath steam up the window. “How are you going to sneak into everyone’s room and get them the antidote? Are you going to put it in their IVs? Do they have to drink it?”

“No, no, and you’ll see,” he said. “Come on.” He opened his door, and before I could finish unlatching my handle, he was at mine, holding it open for me. I got out and followed him to the back of the car. He popped the trunk, and surprised me by taking off his shirt.

“Um, hello? What are we doing here?” I asked, trying to avert my eyes from his rippling muscles, but failing and loving it.

Heather Maclean's books