“You’re back!”
Daniel spun around. He hadn’t heard the door behind him opening. Lucia jumped when she saw him. She was beaming, showing a perfect row of tiny white teeth. Her beauty took his breath away.
What did she mean, he was back? Ah, this was when he’d hidden from Luce, frightened of killing her by accident. He was not allowed to reveal anything to her; she had to discover the details for herself. Were he even to hint broadly, she would simply combust. Had he stayed, she might have grilled him and perhaps forced the truth out of him.… He didn’t dare.
So his earlier self had run away. He must be in Bologna by now.
“Are you feeling all right?” Lucia asked, walking toward him. “You really should lie back down. Your neck”—she reached out to touch the place where he’d been shot over ninety years ago. Her eyes widened and she drew back her hand. She shook her head. “I thought—I could have sworn—”
She began to fan her face with the stack of files she was holding. Daniel took her hand and led her to sit on the edge of the bed with him. “Please,” he said, “can you tell me, was there a girl here—”
A girl just like you.
“Doria?” Lucia asked. “Your … friend? With pretty short hair and the funny shoes?”
“Yes.” Daniel exhaled. “Can you show me where she is? It’s very urgent.”
Lucia shook her head. She couldn’t stop staring at his neck.
“How long have I been here?” he asked.
“You just arrived last night,” she said. “You don’t remember?”
“Things are fuzzy,” Daniel lied. “I must have taken a knock to the head.”
“You were very badly wounded.” She nodded. “Nurse Fiero didn’t think you were going to make it until morning when the doctors came—”
“No.” He remembered. “She didn’t.”
“But then you did, and we were all so glad. I think Doria stayed with you all night. Do you remember that?”
“Why would she do that?” Daniel said sharply, startling Lucia.
But of course Luce had stayed with him. Daniel would have done the same thing.
At his side, Lucia sniffed. He’d upset her, when it was really himself he had to be angry with. He put an arm around her shoulder, feeling almost dizzy. How easy it was to fall in love with every moment of her existence! He made himself lean back to focus.
“Do you know where she is now?”
“She went away.” Lucia chewed on her lip nervously. “After you left, she was upset, and she took off somewhere. But I don’t know where.”
So she had run away again already. What a fool Daniel was, plodding through time while Luce was racing. He had to catch her, though; maybe he could help steer her toward that moment when she could make all the difference. Then he would never leave her side, never let any harm come to her, only be with her and love her always.
He leaped up from the bed. He was at the door when the young girl’s hand tugged him back.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to go.”
“After her?”
“Yes.”
“But you should stay a little longer.” Her palm was damp inside his. “The doctors, they all said you need some rest,” she said softly. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I just can’t bear it if you go.”
Daniel felt horrible. He pressed her small hand to his heart. “We’ll meet again.”
“No.” She shook her head. “My father said that, and my brother, and then they went to the war and they died. I don’t have anyone left. Please don’t go.”
He couldn’t bear to. But if he ever wanted to find her again, leaving now was his only chance.
“When the war is over, you and I will meet again. You’ll go to Florence one summer, and when you’re ready, you will find me at the Boboli Gardens—”
“I’ll do what?”
“Right behind the Pitti Palace, at the end of Spider’s Lane, where the hydrangeas bloom. Look for me.”
“You must be feverish. This is crazy!”
He nodded. He knew it was. He loathed that there was no alternative to setting this beautiful, sweet girl on such an ugly course. She had to go to the gardens then, just as Daniel had to go after Lucinda now.
“I will be there, waiting for you. Trust in that.”
When he kissed her forehead, her shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs. Against every instinct, Daniel turned away, darting off to find an Announcer that could take him back.
FIVE
OFF THE STRAIGHT PATH
Łuce rocketed into the Announcer like a car speeding out of control.
She bounced and jostled against its shadowy sides, feeling as if she’d been thrown down a garbage chute. She didn’t know where she was going or what she would find once she arrived, only that this Announcer seemed narrower and less pliable than the last one, and was filled by a wet, whipping wind that drove her ever deeper into the dark tunnel.
Her throat was dry and her body was weary from not having slept in the hospital. With every turn, she felt more lost and unsure.
What was she doing in this Announcer?
She closed her eyes and tried to fill her mind with thoughts of Danieclass="underline" the strong grasp of his hands, the burning intensity of his eyes, the way his whole face changed when she entered a room. The soft comfort of being wrapped in his wings, soaring high, the world and its worries far away.
How foolish she had been to run! That night in her backyard, stepping through the Announcer had seemed like the right thing to do—the only thing to do. But why? Why had she done it? What stupid idea had made that seem like a smart move? And now she was far away from Daniel, from everyone she cared about, from anyone at all. And it was all her fault.
“You’re an idiot!” she cried into the dark.
“Hey, now,” a voice called out. It was raspy and blunt and seemed to come from right beside her. “No need to be insulting!”
Luce went rigid. There couldn’t be anyone inside the utter darkness of her Announcer. Right? She must be hearing things. She pushed forward, faster.
“Slow down, will ya?”
She caught her breath. Whoever it was didn’t sound garbled or distant, like someone was speaking through the shadow. No, someone was in here. With her.
“Hello?” she called, swallowing hard.
No answer.
The whipping wind in the Announcer grew louder, howling in her ears. She stumbled forward in the dark, more and more afraid, until at last the noise of the air blowing past died out and was replaced by another sound—a staticky roar. Something like waves crashing in the distance.
No, the sound was too steady to be waves, Luce thought. A waterfall.
“I said slow down.”
Luce flinched. The voice was back. Inches from her ear—and keeping pace with her as she ran. This time, it sounded annoyed.
“You’re not going to learn anything if you keep zipping around like that.”
“Who are you? What do you want?” she shouted. “Oof!”
Her cheek collided with something cold and hard. The rush of a waterfall filled her ears, close enough that she could feel cool drops of spray on her skin. “Where am I?”
“You’re here. You’re … on Pause. Ever heard of stopping to smell the peonies?”
“You mean roses.” Luce felt around in the darkness, taking in a pungent mineral smell that wasn’t unpleasant or unfamiliar, just confusing. She realized then that she hadn’t yet stepped out of the Announcer and back into the middle of a life, which could only mean—
She was still inside.
It was very dark, but her eyes began to adjust. The Announcer had taken on the form of some sort of small cave. There was a wall behind her made of the same cool stone as the floor, with a depression cut into it where a stream of water trickled down. The waterfall she heard was somewhere above.