The Flight of the Silvers (62 page)

“I’m sure Rebel feels the same way about his theory,” Zack cautioned.

“Rebel’s seen the string too. He knows there’s a solution. He just made some terrible assumptions about the nature of it. Correcting him is our next priority, one of many. The rest of us will have plenty to do while Theo’s busy.”

The group sat in muddled silence for nearly a full minute. Peter leaned back and flicked a weak hand in the air.

“I don’t blame you at all for your skepticism. Nobody’s suffered more at the hands of the universe than you six. And yet here you are, still together, still breathing. An augur, an actress, a widow, a cartoonist, a boy, and a girl. You’re the most extraordinary group of people I’ve ever met and I will never bet against you. Ever.”

The others stayed rigidly quiet, biting their lips in tight suppression. None of them felt even a fraction as formidable as Peter made them out to be. They could only see his point when they looked around the table. There didn’t seem to be a single companion without a string of miracles under their belt, even just from today.

Peter finished securing Amanda’s boot, then gently swung her legs to the coffee table. He stood up and let out a stretching groan.

“I think it’s well past time you folks got some rest. Should your troubled minds keep you from sleeping, as troubled minds do, remember the silver lining. We’ll find the string. We’ll stop what’s coming. What happened to your world won’t happen here.”

The Silvers absently gazed ahead as Peter gathered the empty tea mugs and disappeared into the kitchen. They listened to the running faucet, the gentle clinks of spoons and ceramics.

Soon Zack rose to his feet and circled the table, extending both hands to Amanda.

“Come on. I’ll take you upstairs.”

While he ported her onto his back, Amanda scanned the two entwined couples on the easy chairs. Judging by their dark and dreary faces, she figured none of them would be detaching anytime soon.

Halfway up the stairs, she leaned forward and breathed a soft whisper in Zack’s ear.

“Stay with me.”

Though his expression remained impassive, Zack assured her in no uncertain terms that he had every intention of doing so. Every damn reason in the world.

—

They slumbered for hours, six weary travelers on three bare mattresses. Scant words were exchanged before their bodies succumbed to fatigue. David confessed to Mia that he killed a man today, and she held him. Zack told Amanda that he healed a friend today, and she held him.

Hannah had the most to say. As she clutched Theo from behind, she swore in a tender whisper that she would be there for him in any way he needed her. If she couldn’t be the messiah, she could at least be the one who kept him sane. It seemed a better use of her life than singing showtunes for scale.

As the sun set on Commemoration, the Silvers woke up feeling ten years older and no more relaxed. They dissolved their sleepy unions with little fanfare and retreated to their designated bedrooms. David and Mia set up their separate little sanctums on the second floor. Zack and Theo established their dorm-like den in the basement. Hannah wearily toiled through the clutter of boxes in the master bedroom, a huge and gorgeous chamber with a cathedral ceiling and a narrow balcony overlooking the backyard.

She caught a strange flash of light in the corner of her eye. Through the top-floor window of the neighboring brownstone, a petite young brunette pranced about in a radiant speedsuit, trailing incandescent streaks of color with every rapid gesture. The sight was both surreal and mesmerizing to Hannah, enough to knock her off her axis. Suddenly the universe seemed a dreamlike place where nothing was too far-fetched. Cartoon sparrows could fly through the window and help her make the bed. The furniture could come to life and sing a song about prudence.

“What are you looking at?”

Hannah jumped and spun around. For all the world’s new possibilities, she didn’t expect Amanda to be standing right behind her. Her sister had been downstairs getting her leg x-rayed, or tomographed, whatever it was called. Now she was here on the balcony, propping herself on tempic crutches, holding two paperback novels under her arm.

“Sorry,” said Amanda. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No. I’m okay. I was just . . .” Hannah took a moment to register Amanda’s crude white supports. “Wow. You made your own crutches.”

“Yeah. The ones Peter got me are a little too short. These will be fine.”

“I thought you couldn’t hold the tempis for more than a few seconds at a time.”

“I thought so too. Who knows? Maybe I’m getting stronger.”

Amanda briefly scanned the room, then tossed a worried look at Hannah. “Listen, I hope you’re not sharing a room for my benefit. I mean if you wanted to, you know, be with Theo . . .”

“No. We’re actually good the way we are, as strange as that sounds.”

“That’s not strange.”

“Well, it’s strange for me. You know how stress makes me slutty.”

Amanda laughed. “I think you’re working off an old image of you.”

Now it was Hannah’s turn to grow concerned. “What about Zack? I mean . . .”

“Oh no. We didn’t. We’re not—”

“I didn’t think you did. I just . . .” Hannah desperately tried to find a way to express her issue without mentioning their new ticking calendar. “I just don’t know why you two aren’t together. Especially now.”

Amanda knew, though she didn’t have the strength to discuss it. At some point soon, she’d have to have a long talk with Zack about siblings and Esis. She wasn’t expecting a brave response.

“It’s complicated.”

She dropped her books onto an end table. Hannah glimpsed armored knights on the covers. They clashed swords right above Peter Pendergen’s name.

“Wow. I forgot he was an author.”

“Yeah. He went out of his way to remind me.”

“You don’t like him?”

Amanda shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t know what to think yet.”

“He seems nice, all things considered.”

“He does.”

“He’s certainly nice to look at.”

“Yes. He is that.”

“You’re just afraid he’s wrong.”

Amanda’s face darkened. Hannah turned around and cast an airy sigh over the railing. “Yeah. Me too.”

The crutches vanished. Amanda leaned on her sister now, resting her chin on her shoulder. They stared out at the vibrant dusk.

“I don’t think we’re going to die of old age,” Hannah mused. “Not even in the best case.”

Amanda closed her eyes. “I don’t think so either.”

“Mia was right, though. You and I are lucky.”

“We’re all lucky,” Amanda insisted. “We all have family here.”

“Well, they may be my siblings at heart, but you’re my flesh and blood and I love you.”

“I love you too, Hannah. So much. You saved my life today. You carried me.”

They held each other tight, sniffling in unison. Amanda eyed her sister strangely when she broke out in a high giggle.

“What?”

“Just thinking about Mom. If she could see us right now, she’d crap a kitten.”

Amanda burst with laughter. “Oh my God. She’s probably running around Heaven right now, looking for a camcorder.”

Hannah wiped her eyes. Amanda gave her a squeeze, then re-created her crutches.

“These painkillers are making me loopy. I need to lie down again.”

“Okay. I’ll come inside in a bit.”

Hannah spent another ten minutes watching the young lumis dancer perform in her bedroom, twirling her array of colored lines and spirals. The actress flinched with surprise when the girl suddenly moved to the window and waved a rainbow. Hannah didn’t know if she was waving at her or just continuing her routine. If the dancer wasn’t so far away, Hannah might have squinted at her wrist and counted the number of watches.

With that sudden reminder, Hannah dashed inside and rooted through her jeans until she found the purple note that Ioni had slipped her at the parade. Unfolding it revealed a flyer for some rock band called the Quadrants. They were playing at a Greenwich Village bar for one night only . . . in April of next year.

She flipped the sheet over and saw a few lines of blue-ink scribble:

Hannah,

Evan Rander took a good man out of your path. I’m putting one in. Go to this event. Look around. You’ll know him when you see him. He’s still wearing his bracelet.

Don’t lose hope, my dear Given. Don’t count the hours. Whether it’s four and a half years or four and a half decades, you still have a lifetime ahead of you. Enjoy as many moments as you can. Find your happy face.

Hannah leaned back against the dresser, her lips and hands trembling as she reread the note. By the third pass through, her cheeks were wet with tears and she found herself hating Ioni. The girl surely knew of the hell that awaited the Silvers in that office building, and yet she failed to warn them away.
Why the hell should I trust you?
Hannah seethed.

She dimmed the lights and then joined her sister in bed, spooning her from behind while Amanda gently snored.

After a dark and restless hour, Hannah stumbled back onto a charitable thought. Maybe Ioni had a reason for not warning Hannah. Maybe she thought the only way the six of them would survive the day was if all their enemies attacked them at once, and attacked each other in the process.

Who the hell could say? Hannah lived in a strange new world now, with temporis and speedsuits and parallel strings. It was almost too much for a poor actress to handle. All she knew was that she’d go and see the Quadrants play next April. Whether the mystery man was a Silver, a Gold, or some other glimmering color, he was one of her people. He had to be found.

As she drifted off to sleep, it occurred to her that she should probably find something nice to wear for the encounter. Maybe a sleek top over jeans. Or maybe something a little more respectable. Hannah supposed there was no rush to decide. The event was six months away. She had time.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Writing this book was a three-year endeavor, one I couldn’t have finished without the help and encouragement of some very fine people. They include Avi Bar-Zeev, Sara Glickstein Bar-Zeev, Mike Tunison, Craig Mertens, Mary Dalton-Hoffman, Mick Soth, Huan Nghiem, Jason Cole, D’Anna Sharon, Dustin Shaffer, Dave Bledsoe, Bill McDermott, Scott Clinkscales, and Ysabelle Pelletier. Yeah, there’s a Pelletier on the list.

Extra special gratitude to my alpha testers, those patient, generous souls who guided me one rough chapter at a time—Mark Harvey, Leni Fleming, Jen Gennaco, and Gretchen Walker.

Huge thanks to David Rosenthal and his team at Blue Rider Press for taking a chance on me and helping me get the Silvers ready for prime time. All readers should be grateful to my terrific editor, Vanessa Kehren. If you think this book’s fat now, you should have seen it before she got her hands on it.

No acknowledgment would be complete without mentioning the great Stuart M. Miller, my longtime agent and friend who’s supported every nutty decision I’ve made, including the one to write a multi-part, character-driven, supernatural suspense epic.

Last but not least is Ricki Bar-Zeev, my biggest fan and toughest critic. None of this—and none of me—would have been possible without her. Thank you, Mom.

THE SILVERS SAGA WILL CONTINUE IN BOOK TWO: THE SONG OF THE ORPHANS.

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