Calla's Story

Chapter 9

Nine

I stumble backward and flatten myself against the wall, but the me on the bed doesn’t seem to notice. How is this happening? How am I looking at myself? For a moment I wonder if I’m projecting this entire scene, but that can’t be right. I’m not imagining this. I’m not controlling it. This is real.

Footsteps sound in the corridor, and Vi pokes her head into the room. “I know you’re studying,” she says, “but feel free to join us whenever you want.”

The other me groans and covers her face with a textbook. “The food smells so good,” she says from behind the pages. “I wish I could come down now.”

“Not much longer to go, and you’ll be done with all this extra work,” she says with a smile. “I’ll shout when dinner’s ready. You can join us then.”

She disappears, leaving me with a sense of déjà vu so strong it almost knocks me over. This conversation has already happened. Last week sometime, while I was studying for a written exam. Which means I’m currently standing in … the past?

How the freaking heck did I get to the past?

The bangle.

I grab the decorated band of bronze and try to tug it off, but it won’t move. “Come on,” I mutter, pulling harder. Realizing I’ve spoken out loud, I freeze and look at the girl on the bed. She shows no sign of having heard me. I get back to my attempts at prying the bangle off my arm, but it’s no use. It won’t budge.

With a groan of despair, I hurry out of the room and downstairs. I don’t know how to get myself back to the present, but standing in my bedroom tugging at my arm clearly isn’t helping. I arrive in the living room as Ryn opens a doorway on the wall and welcomes his friends, Jamon and Natesa. This is the night they came for dinner along with Raven and Flint, who are already sitting on a couch playing with their three-month-old son. I remember making fun of Ryn when he told me he and Vi were hosting a dinner party. “You’re so not the type to host dinner parties,” I told him.

As Jamon and Natesa’s five-year-old daughter skips across the room to play with the baby, I move closer to everyone. “Hello?” I say loudly, knowing before I open my mouth that it’s unlikely anyone will hear me. As I expected, not a single person in the room pays attention to me. The adults sit, and Vi walks out of the kitchen, directing a line of drinks through the air. I raise my arm in front of her as she passes. She walks right through it.

A chill rises across my skin. I’m nothing more than an observer here, unable to influence my surroundings or communicate with anyone around me. Wait, what about my amber? Perhaps I can communicate with someone in the present. I slip my fingers into the top of my left boot and draw my amber out. I swipe my finger across its surface, but nothing happens. I remove my stylus and use it to write on the amber, but no words form there.

Dammit.

And the faerie paths? Where would they take me if I opened a doorway now? To somewhere else in the past? I walk to the nearest wall to write on it, but my hand simply passes through when I lean my wrist against it.

Frightened, I snatch my hand back. I try to write a doorway spell into the air, but I have as much success as if I’m writing with an ordinary stick.

I’m trapped. Trapped within this green-tinted world in the past. I clutch my head in my hands and try not to panic.

“Hey, I heard you’re on the Guild Council now,” Jamon says, obviously to Ryn. “Condolences, man.”

Ryn groans. “I know. I wanted to turn down the offer, but Vi convinced me not to.”

I raise my head at that, puzzled by Ryn’s words. I thought becoming a member of the Council was a good thing.

“Well,” Violet says, sitting beside Ryn and tucking her legs beneath her, “since we decided you’d be the one to stay with the Guild, it makes sense for you to accept a position on the Council. We want to know as much as possible about what’s going on there, and we’ll only know that if you’re working near the top.”

“I know.” Ryn lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’m happy to take one for the team.”

Take one for the team? I thought my brother liked working at the Guild.

“Oh, I need to take this,” Ryn says, reaching forward as a small mirror lying on the coffee table lights up. “It’s probably about the protest.”

“Protest?” Raven asks as Ryn heads to the kitchen. Before he disappears through the door, I catch a glimpse of my father’s face on the mirror’s surface.

“Another Griffin List protest,” Vi says. “The Guild’s managed to keep it quiet so far. They don’t want it getting out of hand like last time.”

“Oh, is it to do with that man who’s on trial at the moment for attempting to blackmail a Council member to keep his wife’s name off the list?”

Vi nods. With my distress replaced by curiosity for a moment, I follow Ryn to the kitchen. Dad doesn’t work for the Guild anymore, so why is he talking to Ryn about a protest the Guild is trying to keep quiet?

“You’re putting me in an awkward position here, Dad,” Ryn says as I walk into the kitchen. The mirror is on the kitchen table, and Ryn’s leaning over it.

“I know,” Dad says. “I hate involving you, but I’m worried that with this trial going on, and the Guild looking into any hint of corruption, it won’t be long before someone starts wondering about Calla.”

What?

“All I’m asking is that you make sure there’s no record of the bribes anywhere.”

Bribes? What bribes?

“There was more than one?” Ryn says after a pause.

No, no, no. What has Dad done? What kind of bribes did he have to make in order to keep my incidents quiet? What if he gets caught? What if he has to go to prison just because he tried to keep me safe? I couldn’t live with that kind of guilt. I couldn’t—

Vibrations. A shock wave. Ripples and a whoosh and—

I’m standing in the back room of Club Deviant again, breathless and nauseous. Zed looks horrified, the elves are backing away from me, and running footsteps are still coming down the passage. A hand grabs my arm. “Close your eyes,” the artist says.

“W-what?”

“Close your eyes!”

I do. On the other side of my eyelids, something flashes bright white, followed by a rumble-crash that sounds like thunder. Then I’m stumbling and running. I open my eyes as the artist pulls me along the passageway and back into the club. I think about tugging my arm free and making my own escape, but his grip is too strong. Past the dancers, out the door, down the tunnel.

He stops and turns to face me. “No more mind games. Give me the bangle.”

“They—they’re going to find us,” I gasp, peering over my shoulder.

“They’re temporarily blinded. They won’t be finding anything for the next few hours. Now give me the bangle.”

I face him. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t get it off.”

He lets out an impatient breath of air. “Of course you can. It’s only when you’re in the past, using its power, that you can’t remove it.”

“And … you can’t take it off me?” I ask, moving another step away from him. Another wave of nausea rolls over me, but I breathe deeply against it. “You said you’d have to cut off my arm to get it.”

“Correct. And I’d prefer not to do that, so just give it to me. You saw what it can do. Time travel is extremely dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Exactly.” I take another step back. “That’s why I need to return it to the Guild.”

He makes an irritated noise. “It will be stolen again if you give it back to them.”

“So don’t steal it then, and everything—”

“Not by me.”

“By me,” a voice says behind me. I whirl around and find a man standing a few feet away, a doorway in the air melting closed behind him. “Give me back my power,” he says. Sparks ignite from his fingers and zigzag through the air toward me. I throw myself to the side. My shoulder hits the tunnel wall as the sparks fly past me.

Throwing star.

I reach for one and fling it at my attacker. I needn’t have bothered, though, since he’s now locked in a battle of sparks and knives and whirling wind with the artist.

“Oh! There she is!”

I jump away from the tunnel wall as a doorway materializes beside me. I wrap my hand around air and find a glittering sword in my grip a moment later. I’m about to s***h at my newest opponent when I realize who it is.

“Calla, come on!” Perry shouts, holding his hand out to me.

I let go of the sword and grab his hand. He tugs hard, and I fall into the darkness with him.