Iwas lying on March, in fact. On his chest. And his arm was around me, and his hand now on my cheek.
His eyes were swollen with sleep, his lips so red they could have been painted by the most skilled artist. And they, too, wereright therefor me to look at.
To kiss.
I did so without thinking.
I leaned in, half-desperate to know if he was real, and he was. My lips touched his. He tasted like rain and roses.
Then came the knock on the door again—harder.
“He’s gone! Wake up, everyone—he’s gone!”
Suddenly we both sat up, March on the cot, me on his lap.
We looked at the door like it was a three-headed monster, then at each other as whoever had knocked—it sounded a lot like the Timekeeper Damon—continued up the hallway, slamming his fists on doors, shouting—he’s gone, he’s gone!
Somehow, I made it to my feet, thought to touch my hair, to smooth it down as well as I could. And March was standing beside me, just as disoriented, running his own fingers through his curls before he was in front of me, those big, warm hands on the sides of my face.
“Ora, do you remember last night?”
I could have laughed.
“I do.” Not only did I remember, but I came alive last night. I came…back to myself.
That lopsided smile. The way he looked at my lips.
“Let’s talk once we see what’s going on, okay?”
I held onto his wrists, lost myself anew in the colors of his eyes as I nodded. Smiled.
His lips pressed onto mine—like clouds, like cotton candy, like fresh snowflakes drifting from the sky. Just a ghost of a touch, but it was enough.
“C’mon—let’s go! We need to get going!”
“Who’sgone?” I breathed when he moved back, let go of me.
March shrugged, his cheeks flushed, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
He turned and opened the door, leaving me to stare down at my feet for a second as I got myself together, only to realize that the glass floor was still there, and those old, lifeless gears beneath it as well.
My stomach turned.
Then March stuck his head inside the door once more, the flush of his cheeks gone.
“It’s Silas,” he said, and my stomach turned for a brand-new reason. “He’s really gone.”
Silas was gone.
We were outside the Hollow, in the room with the three-legged table, and Damon was on his knees there near the far left corner, close to the stairs that led to the only door there. He was on his knees in front of a hatch I hadn’t even noticed existed before.
It was open. The metal grate had been pushed aside, and cool air rose from the shaft below.
“He’s gone,” the Timekeeper kept whispering. “He opened the hatch sometime in the night. I didn’t hear a thing. He’s just gone.”
“Gone where?” I thought and March asked, while the others still spilled out of their rooms—Seth rubbing his eyes, Anika with her blanket still around her shoulders, Levana already scowling, Russ and Erith close behind. They all looked at the open hatch, then at Damon, then at each other.
“I don’t know—I don’t know where?—”
