Come Tumbling Down (Wayward Children #5)(41)

When the windmill came into view ahead, Kade swallowed. “Jack—” he began.

“Don’t.” Her voice was still utterly, eerily calm. “Please.”

He didn’t.

Jack drove on.

When they were close enough to the windmill to see details—the slope of the fence, the narrow, shuttered slits of the windows—the back door opened, spilling buttery yellow brightness into the darkness. Alexis appeared, silhouetted in the lamplight. Jack managed to contain herself long enough to pull the horses up to the stable. Then she jumped down and ran to the other woman, the burlap sack held in one hand. She flung herself into Alexis’s arms, and neither of them said anything, and neither of them had anything to say.

Kade looked awkwardly away. “Any of you know anything about horses?”

“No, but I know skeletons,” said Christopher. “Let’s get to work.”

By the time they finished unhitching the horses—Pony nipped, while Bones was docile as could be—and returning them to their stalls, Alexis was alone in the doorway. The four of them approached her cautiously.

She raised her hands and signed something. Sumi nodded.

“Jack went upstairs to change her clothes,” she said. “She’ll be right down, and then they’ll send us home. Alexis says thank you, by the way. She wasn’t sure we’d be back. She knew Jack couldn’t do it on her own.”

Alexis signed something else.

“She’s sorry we had to see that,” Sumi said. “She’s sorrier Jack had to do it. She hoped…” Sumi stopped, and glared at Alexis. “That’s not nice.”

“What did she say?” asked Cora.

“She hoped one of us would kill Jill, so Jack wouldn’t have to.” Sumi crossed her arms and pouted, her petulance only slightly spoiled by the fact that she was still holding the baling hook.

“I offered,” said Kade.

Cora looked at her hands, still covered in mother-of-pearl, and said nothing.

Alexis stepped to the side, an apologetic look on her face. Jack was descending the stairs, a fresh pair of glasses on her face, buttoning the cuffs of her shirt.

“I suppose you’d like me to send you home,” she said.

“That’d be nice,” said Kade.

“I don’t suppose I can convince any of you to stay behind.” Jack smiled, quickly enough that it could almost have been missed. “We have plenty of room here in the windmill. I could teach you the finer points of grave robbing.”

“I don’t think this world touches on Confection,” said Sumi.

“Even if this world touches on Mariposa, it’s a pass for me,” said Christopher. “This place is not right.”

“No,” said Kade.

“I want to,” said Cora.

They all turned to look at her.

“The Drowned Gods keep whispering to me, and this isn’t the Trenches, but they could give me back the sea,” she said. “Gideon is … he stays dry too much. They’d give me the sea, and then they’d give me his place, and I’d be so important, I’d be so beloved, and I can’t, I can’t, this isn’t … this isn’t my home, this isn’t…”

“Cora.” Kade took her hands, pulling her attention onto him. She raised her head, blinking rapidly, eyes swirling with impossible colors. Kade forced himself to smile. “Hey. We’re pretty fond of you back home, you know. We love you. But if this is … maybe this isn’t the home you had, but maybe it could be a new home. Maybe you could have the ocean back, and be happy. It’s all right if you want to stay. We’ll tell my aunt. She’ll understand.”

Cora stared at him, cheeks slowly reddening as she squirmed under the weight of his regard. Then, with an effort that looked physically painful, she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “If the Trenches want me back, they’ll come for me. I don’t want someone else’s sea. I want my own. I want to go home.”

“All right.” Kade looked over his shoulder to Jack. “Fire it up, do whatever you need to do. Send us back.”

She nodded, regret flashing in her eyes. “Very well, then. I suppose we won’t see each other again. Thank you for your assistance. Please tell Miss West that I … that I appreciated my time with her.”

Kade nodded. “We will.”

They stood back as Jack and Alexis assembled the components of the door. From this side, it was a structure of wire and steel, sketching a doorway where none belonged. Jack flipped a switch. Lightning filled the room, and when it cleared, a door was standing there, solid oak.

Christopher licked his lips. “If you can make doors…”

“Only between the Moors and the world of my birth,” said Jack. “If you’d like to remain and go through an apprenticeship, you might be able to make yourself a doorway home. But I doubt it. Science has limits, even here. Go back to school. Live until you find your door, or until you don’t. Be happy. Be sure.”

“I’ll try,” said Christopher, and opened the door, and stepped through.

Cora was the next through. Sumi paused long enough to blow Jack a kiss and then danced after the former mermaid, her steps light, her baling hook hanging lazily at her side.

Kade hesitated. “Jack…”