“Everything you taught me . . . all those tricks, all our Walks . . . were a scheme?”
“You were too good to waste on the Consort,” he said. “Only a few months younger than Gil’s son. Who better to watch over him?”
A flash of memory. “You picked Doughnut World. He went there every Thursday, and you threw me into his path. You called him to the office in Angry Dystopia World so I would find you both. You arranged our Walks so I’d run into him.”
It wasn’t the universe pushing us together; it was Monty.
“I figured if he saw you in Echoes, he’d trust you in this world. Despite the boots and attitude, Delancey, you’ve a soft heart. Once he asked you to help Amelia, everything fell into place, and then the inversions knocked it down again. I haven’t puzzled that one out quite yet.”
“You used me. You used both of us.”
“You would have done the same,” he wheedled. “You wanted to hide him away, even when you knew how dangerous he was. You would have damned the world to keep your love safe.”
“A Walker’s duty is to the Key World,” I said dully. “I couldn’t do it.”
“Ah, but you would have. It was Simon who cut the threads, wasn’t it? Not you.” He moved closer, hands up, his eyes never leaving the pivot. “It’s not too late. We can save them.”
“Stop lying!” I screamed. “Simon is gone. So is Rose. Forever.”
“Because you abandoned them!” he snarled, and caught himself. The momentary rage, replaced by sympathy and remorse. It was an act, and I wondered if his dementia was an act too.
Even fools are dangerous if they want something.
“I was going to stay. Save the Key World. Save Simon. We were going to run, but he stopped me.” My fingers twitched. “It’s a shame he’s not here now.”
“Delancey,” Monty said nervously. “Think.”
“I am. I’m thinking about when Simon asked me if it would hurt when he unraveled. I didn’t know. Would you like to find out?”
I heard the shimmering sound of the pivot, the Key World ringing out on the other side, beckoning me back to a place where Simon wasn’t. Where he was never going to be.
A hand came down on my shoulder. “Del, stop.”
“Addie?” I twisted to face her, but I wouldn’t let go of the threads.
Monty called out, “Addison, she’s not well. She overdid it, and the frequency poisoning’s back. We need to get her home.”
“I agree,” she said.
“No. You don’t know what he did,” I pleaded.
“He tried to use Simon to find Grandma.” At my startled look, she shrugged. “I told you Eliot put everything together. He’s worried about you. Come on.”
A three-man team came through the pivot, but I tightened my grip. “No,” I said. “He’s not leaving. It’s a tiny world. No one will care if I cleave it.”
“You’ll care,” she said.
“Simon’s gone.” Something inside me shattered, glass ground to dust.
“I know.” Gently she pried my fingers off the strings. Her nails, usually perfectly manicured, were bitten to the quick. “He did it to save you. Don’t waste it, Del.”
She pulled me back through the pivot, where Eliot and my parents waited. My mom clutched my dad’s arm, and they raced over as soon as we were clear. Lattimer followed behind, solemn but pleased.
All I could see was what wasn’t there.
I stood unmoving as my parents fussed over us, my mom smoothing my hair, my dad gathering me up in a bear hug. When he released me, Lattimer cleared his throat, and my parents stepped aside.
“You did well, Delancey,” Lattimer said. His hand dropped on my shoulder and I steeled myself not to flinch. “I knew you’d realize where your future should be.”
Behind me the pivot wavered as the team brought Monty back through. Lattimer’s face transformed, the proud smile turning predatory.
“Del! We can get them back! It’s not too late!” Monty shouted.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the team drag Monty toward a black van, engine rumbling. He shouted again, “He’s more important than you know!”
He was everything. What could be more important than everything?
“There’s another way! People who can help us! Nothing’s done, Delancey! Nothing’s—”
The sound of the van’s door slamming cut off his cries, and then there was only silence.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
IT TURNS OUT, the end of a world isn’t the end of the world. It only feels like it. Life pushes on, a vast unfurling that should be uplifting. Reassuring. An affirmation of the things we hold dearest.
I didn’t feel affirmed. I felt insignificant. Life pushed on, dragging me in its wake like a piece of driftwood. The music of the multiverse turned as distant and tuneless and monotonous as my days.
I walked, but not between worlds. Not anymore. I walked Iggy, long rambling trips that left us both shivering and exhausted. Easier to fall asleep that way, easier to ignore the dreams of paper stars in a gray sky and a bright-eyed boy beckoning me closer.
A week later I appeared before the Consort for the second time in as many months. My parents stood on either side of me, Addie near the door. Monty’s absence was palpable.
Councilwoman Crane folded her hands and spoke in the grave, formal cadence of the Consort. “Your suspension was to last until the end of the term, Delancey. We had hoped that the time would allow you to develop not only the techniques, but also the restraint required of licensed Walkers.” She peered over the top of her glasses, her smile dry as bones. “You can imagine our surprise when we learned of your involvement with the anomaly.”
I stared at the ballet flats I’d borrowed from Addie. The fluorescent lights made tiny, star-shaped reflections in the patent-leather toes.
Councilwoman Bolton spoke next, tapping the papers in front of her with one finger. “We have determined the anomaly was a collusion between Montrose Armstrong and the Free Walkers, created to destabilize the Key World. Now that the source has been cleaved, thanks to your actions, the multiverse is no longer in danger.”
I slanted a look at Addie, who kept her eyes fixed on Councilwoman Crane. She and Eliot had coordinated our stories before the Consort debriefed us, making sure to leave Amelia and Simon out of it. It had meant throwing Monty under the bus, but neither Addie nor Eliot seemed too guilt-ridden about it. I figured he’d gotten off easy.
I’d expected Lattimer to speak next, but he sat back, watchful and silent, as Crane took over again. “While your behavior was unconventional, it demonstrated your commitment to our highest principles: obedience, diligence, sacrifice. Your decision to keep Montrose Armstrong contained prevented him from taking refuge with other Walkers who are themselves fugitives.”
Other Walkers. There are people who can help us. Another one of Monty’s lies, and I dug my fingernails into my palms.
“Therefore, we are reinstating you, effective immediately. You shall resume your formal training, with credit given for your recent service.”
My mother exhaled, her relief audible. My father squeezed my elbow gently, but I didn’t respond. As quickly as they’d taken my future away, they handed it back.
I wasn’t sure I wanted it anymore, wasn’t sure where it led.
“Furthermore,” intoned Lattimer, “we would like to make a request.”
That got my attention.
“Your sister accelerated your training at my urging. It was clear that you had considerable talent, however undisciplined you might have been, and I’m pleased you rose to the challenge.”