“I dont know if I can explain it. So much of it just happened. Its like being in a dream, but knowing youre dreaming, and at the same time knowing its not a dream.”
“Thats a big help.” But with a half laugh, Dana squeezed her hand. “Actually, I know what you mean. Its the way I felt when he took me into the bookstore.”
“I dont know how I understood what to do, but it was suddenly so clear. The one thing was focusing on what I had to do without letting him know I was focusing on it. And that was hard, really hard, but part of that was because I was so scared. For me, it helped to concentrate on painting, the actual art and act. The colors, the tone, the detail. I dont know if that helps you.”
“I dont know either. So lets find out.”
“Were not going to let anything happen to you,”Zoe told her. “Were going to be right here.”
“Okay.”
Taking that long breath, Dana shut her eyes. It was a comfort to feel the hands gripped on hers. Like an anchor, she supposed, that would prevent her from floating off somewhere she shouldnt go.
She let herself listen again to the sounds of the house, to her own quiet, steady breathing matching the rhythm of her friends. She smelled paint, and perfume.
There was the key again, shining on the colored field she now realized was the wall shed just painted. Her wall, with the color chosen by the woman flanking her.
But when she reached out for it with her mind, she could bring it no closer.
She struggled with impatience and tried to imagine how the key would feel in her hand. Smooth, she thought, and cool.
No, it would have heat. It held power. She would feel that fire from which it was forged, and when she closed her fist over it, it would fit easily in her palm.
Because she was meant to hold it.
The color washed away to a strong white lined with black. The key seemed to melt into it, a shimmering gold pool that dripped over black and white, then faded away.
In her mind she heard a long sigh. A womans sigh. And felt, heard, a rush of wind that smelled like autumn burning.
She walked at night, and was the night with all its shadows and all its secrets. When she wept, she wept for day.
The words that ran through her mind brought such an ache she thought her heart might bleed dry from it, as from a mortal wound. In defense, she shut them off.
Everything faded again. And she could smell the paint, and the perfume.
She opened her eyes, saw her friends watching her.
“Honey, are you all right?”Zoe spoke gently as she freed her hand from Malorys and touched Danas cheek.
“Sure. Yeah.”
“Youre crying.”Zoe dried Danas cheek with the bandanna.
“Am I? I dont know why. Something hurt, I guess. You know.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “In here. I dont know where it is. I still dont know where the key is.”
She scrubbed the heels of her hands over her face and told them what shed imagined.
“She walks at night,” Malory repeated. “The goddess walks.”
“Yeah. It sounded sort of familiar, but I couldve made it up. Or it could apply toNiniane . I just know it made me horribly sad.”
She got to her feet, walked to the
window to open it. She needed air. “Shes alone in the dark— thats how I think of her. Theyre all alone in the dark. If I dont do what needs to be done, theyll stay in the dark.”
Zoewalked over to press her cheek to the back of Danas shoulder. “Theyve got each other, and theyve got us. Dont beat yourself up. Youre trying.”
“And I think youre getting somewhere.” Malory joined them at the window. “Im not saying that to be annoyingly optimistic. Youre putting the different parts of Rowenas clue together. Your brains working them out, shifting them around, trying to make them fit. And I think with this last attempt, youve started to use your heart.