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“It’s all right,” Louis-Cesare told me, grabbing my arms preemptively.
“All right?” I shook him off, and took a step backward. Because no way was anything about this all right.
“It will be.” He looked past me for a moment, at the wall, but didn’t seem as horror-struck as I was. Maybe he’d been warned ahead of time; he’d said that he and Mircea had talked. Or maybe it wasn’t quite the same when it wasn’t your insanity on display.
Bizarre, whacked-out, really gross display. I wrapped my arms around me, and told myself that the cold I was feeling was just the fog. Or my imagination, which seemed to be healthy enough.
Glad something was.
“Where were you?” I demanded, harsher than I’d planned.
He looked back at me. “Quoi?”
“You weren’t here. When I arrived,” I added, because he was staring at me blankly.
“We left at the same time.”
“Well, we didn’t arrive at the same time! I’ve been here for five minutes.” Maybe more. It felt like I’d been staring at that wall for a while.
Louis-Cesare didn’t seem to like that response. “You are sure?”
“Well, it’s not like I have a watch!” I said, only to have one appear on my arm.
It was gold, with a little mother-of-pearl face, and it wasn’t mine. It sort of reminded me of one Claire owned, but didn’t wear anymore because the whole transformation thing was tough on jewelry. But that didn’t explain what it was doing here.
“What the—” I began.
“It is your mind. You can have what you like,” Louis-Cesare informed me. Which was great, except that what I’d like right now was a door out of here.
“Is there a way for us to speed this up?” I asked tightly.
He didn’t answer for a moment. His head was tilted to the side and he had a distracted look, like he was trying to talk and listen to the TV at the same time. “Your father says he is having…difficulties,” he finally told me.
“What kind of difficulties?”
“Maintaining the connection. He says we need to hurry.”
“That’s what I just said,” I pointed out. “How do I fast-forward this thing?”
“I…he…is not sure. He was trying to put you in at the time of the blackout that you experienced earlier. But as an observer. You should have been able to see and report back, without having to experience everything again. Or talk to anyone.”
“Sounds good,” I said fervently.
“Yes, but it did not work. He does not know why.”
“That’s…reassuring.”
“It is not, in fact,” he said, staring upward. And not looking happy. He was glowering at the sky as if Mircea was up there somewhere and could see him. I didn’t say anything because I kind of hoped he was right.
Unfortunately, that gave me no one to talk to, and my eyes got bored. And started meandering around. And they seemed fascinated by the sickly pinkish light coming from the gash that was flooding the dark landscape like a searchlight.
I don’t know why. It’s not like they could see anything. It was bright enough, but just like a real searchlight, it didn’t work so well in fog. Except to highlight strange bumps and coils and glimmers in the mist, sending Rorschach-like monsters rearing silently on every side.
I suddenly got a severe case of goose bumps, and jerked my head around, sure that I’d just glimpsed—
Nothing.
The only thing behind me was a long shadow of a streetlight, flickering in and out of sight in the churning mist.
