“I promised you I would keep them safe,” I said, my heart beating hard and fast in my throat. “What would you like me to do?”
Dante shook his head. “I told V that it would be wrong for him to choose a life for Valerie without her fully understanding what was waiting for her on the other side,” he said quietly. “You have all the information. You know the stakes. The black door changed everything about my life. It will change everything about yours, too. But I won’t force you to make this decision. It must be your choice.”
I pressed my palm against his cheek. “My life changed the moment I met you,” I said simply. “I don’t want to lose that moment. I want to have met you, Dante. I want you in my life. And if going through the door means I can save my family
and
stop Zo
and
be with you, then it’s an easy choice. I choose you. I choose yes.”
Chapter
25
Dante’s kiss stole my breath away. He kept saying my name between kisses, his hands cupping my face. The nearness of his body ignited a fire within me, burning away whatever lingering doubts I might have had.
He swept his hands down my neck, resting them on my shoulders, his thumbs meeting in the hollow of my throat. His eyes were as bright as a sunrise. “I love you, Abby. I think I could live the rest of my life and never know the depths of you.”
He kissed me one last time, at once so gentle and so deep that I saw stars in the darkness behind my eyes.
Some distant time later, I finally opened my eyes to see Dante smiling at me.
“I love you, too,” I said, only then realizing how inadequate those small words were to express all the emotion I was carrying in my heart.
I slipped my hand into his, and together we went upstairs.
Natalie was making sandwiches in the kitchen and Valerie sat at the counter, coloring a picture with a fat crayon in her fist. A rainbow of discarded colors cluttered the countertop around her. She hummed a tune through her nose and dangled her bare feet from the tall stool where she sat.
“Oh, good, you’re up,” Natalie said, sliding one of two grilled cheese sandwiches onto a plate. “Are you guys hungry?”
“As long as it’s quick,” I said, my stomach rumbling. I picked up the sandwich and took a bite out of it. The hot cheese burned my mouth but it tasted delicious.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Natalie asked.
“She’s going back home,” Valerie chimed in, the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth. “I hope she makes it okay, though, because it won’t be as easy as she thinks. See, I drew a picture.”
Valerie held up the sheet of paper proudly. The top third of the paper was filled with small golden stars linked together with thick yellow lines. The bottom third had been colored in bright blue until it looked like an ocean. A brown boat with a mast and a sail bobbed between the peaks of two waves. A crude skull and crossbones hovered above the boat. In the middle of the paper was a stick-figure girl with ragged brown hair standing in front of a door that had been colored solid black.
“Is that me?” I asked, pointing to the girl, unsettled.
“For now,” Valerie said slyly. She turned the picture upside down and studied the image critically.
The three of us exchanged a heavy glance.
“Is that what I think it is?” Natalie asked, stepping closer to us. “Because it looks like Dante’s description of the black door.”
I nodded. “We’re going to fix it so I can use it to save my family.”
To Natalie’s credit, she took that bit of information in stride. “So what’s up with the pirate ship?”
“It’s Zo,” I said. “He’s the Pirate King.”
Valerie’s head snapped up. “I told you not to say his name! I told you, but you did it anyway. Why did you do that?” She curled the edges of the picture in her hands, fretting and anxious. She tapped the boat with her finger. “The Pirate King knows where you are. He knows where you’re going. He’s on his way to meet you. You have to hurry.”
Natalie dropped the pan on the stove with a clang. She scooped up the second sandwich and handed it to Dante. “Go.”
“We’ll be at the Dungeon. That’s where the door is,” I said to Natalie, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you for everything, Nat. You’re the best friend I could have asked for.” I held back the tears that appeared in my eyes. “If I don’t see you again—”
“Don’t talk like that. No good-byes. Just . . . do what you have to.”
I nodded and gave her one more hug. Then I hurried after Dante, who had reached the front door in three strides and was holding it open for me.
“Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate’s life for me,” sang out Valerie as Dante closed the door.
We quickly stopped by my house to pick up the hinge. Dante would be able to work around V’s mistakes, but there would be no point if we couldn’t open the door.
As I exited my room with the brass machine heavy in my hands, I couldn’t help but peek into Hannah’s room one last time. It was still perfectly presented, right down to the matching pillows on the bed, but the entire room was simply a shell, void of life. I curled my fingers around the three prongs of the hinge. With luck, I would be able to return this room to its rightful owner and fill it with the life I knew belonged there.
My heart twisted a little as I realized that, with Mom at work, I wouldn’t be able to say good-bye to her. I held on to the thought that soon enough I’d be back home with my family and they would be whole, complete, and safe.
Coming down the stairs, I saw Dante waiting for me in the front room and I was hit with a peculiar déjà vu. I remembered the first time I had seen him standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me. So much had happened since that day when he had unexpectedly arrived to take me to breakfast. So many memories I didn’t want to forget. So many memories I wanted to save.
“Are you ready?” he asked me.
I looked down at the hinge in my hands. My heart answered before my mouth did, and I was glad that they both said the same thing. “Yes,” I replied. “I am.”
***
The empty lot looked strangely ominous as Dante pulled up alongside the curb. I knew it was just my imagination, but I thought I saw a flicker of light shining up from the basement.
“How long will it take you to fix what you need to on the door?” I asked as Dante helped me out of the car.
“Not long,” he said, moving to the back of the car and unlocking the trunk. “Luckily, none of the changes I need to make are time-sensitive ones. I should be able to restore the door to its proper working order—as well as fix the mistakes V made—by adding a few images and modifying the ones V misplaced.”
I shaded my eyes and looked around the rubble. As far as I could tell, we were alone, but Valerie had said Zo was on his way. I hoped we had made it here first.
Dante lifted a toolbox from the trunk. “At least we know the hinge works, so that’s good.”
He took my hand and headed for the hole in the ground that led to the basement.
I didn’t move, though, and Dante stopped only a few feet from me. He turned back to look at me. A light wind ruffled his dark hair, loosening that unruly lock so it fell across his eyes.
“Dante? Will . . . will it hurt, do you think?”
His eyes softened and he set down the toolbox. Returning to my side, he rubbed his hands over my arms. “No, love, no, it won’t hurt. It will be dark. And cold. But whatever pain I felt from traveling through the door came from these”—he touched the chains on his wrist—“and you won’t have them.” He pulled me close to his chest. “It will be over before you know it. And I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”
I closed my eyes briefly. I took a breath and exhaled it, forcing my fear to go with it. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay,” I said quietly.
Dante picked up the toolbox again but kept his arm around my shoulder while we walked to the basement.
The gaping hole still smelled oddly like smoke even though I knew the inferno that had devoured the Dungeon had happened weeks ago. A flurry of footprints were scattered around the opening, sharp heel prints and smudged toes alternating in the ash.
“Leo and V should be here already,” Dante said, kicking the dirt off the first step. “I told them to wait for us.”
I followed him down the curving steps to the basement floor, my heart seeming to skip a beat for every step I took. I counted them one through ten, and when I reached the bottom, my courage had returned. I smiled, thinking that Jason’s counting trick had worked its magic again.
“Dante,” Leo called, holding up his hand in greeting. “Is everything all right?”
Leo had cleaned the basement as best he could, clearing away as much of the debris and clutter as possible. His hands were black with soot and a line of it streaked across his cheek, another across his forehead.
“Abby agreed, so, yes, I think so.” Dante set the toolbox down with a puff of dust. “But we don’t have much time.”
“Why not?” V asked, standing up from where he had been crouching next to the freestanding door frame.
“Valerie said Zo was on his way here,” I said.
Leo frowned. “He’s coming here? When? Now?”
V smiled, a strange gleam shining in his dark eyes. “Good. Then it’s time to make him pay.” He moved swiftly to my side, gripping my arm with a strong hand. He spoke in an undertone, so quietly that no one else heard him. “Remember—when he shows up, you hold him in place. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Wait, I—” I stammered.
But before I could finish, V was already back at Dante’s side, standing by the door, helping him lay out the tools Dante would need to fix and finish the black door.
Leo must have seen my worry from across the room because he gestured for me to come join him.
I stepped lightly around the door frame, skirting the blackened wood. For all that I was about to cross that threshold, I felt strangely reluctant to touch it before I had to.
I sat down next to Leo on a square of white-and-gold marble. I held the hinge on my lap, unwilling to let it out of my hands. “This is nice,” I commented, tracing my fingers over one of the veins of gold running through the stone.
“It’s one of the few things that survived the fire,” Leo said. “I’m glad it did. It was a gift from an old friend. He tried to teach me the art of sculpture, but somehow my pieces never turned out quite right. I never seemed to end up with what I wanted. My friend made it look so easy. When I asked him what his secret was, he said, ‘I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.’”
“Sometimes it’s hard to see the ending from the beginning,” I said, watching as Dante chose a thin blade from among his tools and pressed the tip to the dark wood.
“I know.” Leo rested his hand next to mine on the stone. “And sometimes it’s hard to keep your focus on the angel long enough for it to emerge from the stone. But when you do, and when it does, it’s one of the most amazing things you can see. I always thought that kind of creation was more like magic than art.”
Dante deftly flicked his wrist, and a star-shaped spot appeared on what had once been a blank patch of wood. He brushed the edge of his hand over the wood, smoothing away any stray slivers. He touched the tool to the door again; this time, a swirl of petals appeared, a blooming flower caught in a breeze.
V hovered nearby, holding an array of tools, ready to hand over whichever one Dante required at a moment’s notice.
Dante stood before the door and left his mark in all the far corners and intricate patterns that decorated the freestanding frame and the door. He moved with confidence, never lingering in one spot for very long. His hands seemed to automatically select and discard the tools that he needed to transform a simple door back into a passageway through time.
His dedication and artistry took my breath away.
Sweat slowly darkened his shirt as he focused all his energy on the task before him.
“I always knew he was talented,” Leo said quietly, “but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him work at this level.”
“You can tell that it makes him happy,” I said. “I just wish he had more chances to use his art for something other than working on that door.”
Under Dante’s talented touch, constellations appeared and patterns formed. At his request, images came to life: scales and shells and stars. One by one, the grains of sand appeared in the hourglass in the center of the door.
I could almost hear the slippery sound of them rushing through the narrow neck of wood.
“This is a remarkable thing you have chosen to do,” Leo said.
“Yeah, it’s either the bravest thing or the craziest.”
“I’ve seen what you are capable of, Abby, and I would say you are braver than you give yourself credit for.”
“I suppose we’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” I tilted a smile in Leo’s direction.
At that moment, Dante stepped back from the door, the thin knife still in his hand hanging by his side. He scrubbed away the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.
“It’s done,” he said. His voice shook, though his hands were rock steady. “It’s ready for you.” He looked at me then, his eyes the same color as the marble. A hundred emotions flashed across his face, and I identified each and every one of them because I felt each and every one of them myself: excitement and anticipation, worry and fear, pride and love.