Into the Dim (Into the Dim, #1)(36)

“But—”

“No,” he interrupted. “We need you, Hope. And that’s the end of it.”

Collum withdrew a soft, worn handkerchief. With gentle swipes, he dried my cheeks. Then, as if startled by his own kindness, abruptly stood.

I shivered and watched him go.





Chapter 16


JUST BEFORE DAWN, IN THE CHAMBER DEEP BENEATH THE MOUNTAIN, everyone said their goodbyes. No fog machine this time, though it was cold enough that our breaths streamed out to twine above our heads and snag briefly on the neon strands.

“It’s a go,” Doug huffed as he pounded down the steps. “Lines 212, 486, 510, on the latitude. Lines 101, 419, 771 on longitude. Fits with the location. Forested area several miles outside London. Same sequence as when you all went before, Lu, so the date checks out.”

“You have your lodestones?” Moira’s eyes brimmed as she snipped a thread here and checked a seam there. “Phee? You know how forgetful you are.”

“Gran.” Phoebe jangled the bracelet on her wrist before pulling her grandmother into a fierce hug. “Hope has her necklace, and Col his ring. And we’ve the extra bracelet for Sarah. Don’t worry about us. We’re good, aye?”

I squeezed the lump of the opal pendant concealed beneath the ruby bodice of my gown, reassuring myself it was still there.

Standing alone, I shifted my weight from one boot-clad foot to the other. Ran a finger over the intricate black embroidery bordering the round neckline. Tugged at the scarlet ribbons that laced up the sides and cinched the cream-colored sleeves to the bodice. The long folds of midnight-blue wool that made up the skirt swished around my stockinged legs as I forced my knees to stop shaking.

Once we . . . arrived, we’d walk a thin line. Not draw attention to ourselves, yet appear wealthy enough so that doors would open for us.

As I huddled inside my warm cloak, my teeth chattered. Collum strode toward the center of the chamber and gestured for me to follow. “Ready?”

“Ready as you can get to travel through time, I suppose.” I muttered though paralyzed lips.

Collum looked like an extra in a Robin Hood movie, with his father’s gladiator sword strapped to his side and the thick leather belt cinched around a cobalt-blue tunic. He gave me a quick once-over that gained me a grudging nod of approval. I reached for the water skin of toughened hide that hung at my hip, attempting to wash away the taste of ancient stone and ghosts.

“You should know”—Collum flicked a glance from under his blond lashes—“the journey itself can be a bit unsettling. Particularly your first. But we’ll be there with you on the other side, so try not to panic.”

Still quaking like underdone egg custard, I managed to mumble, “Sure. Yeah. No problem.”

“It’s time,” Lucinda called.

Doug wrapped Phoebe in his massive arms, so that her feet dangled inches from the ground as he rocked her gently back and forth. Bran Cameron’s face flickered through my head as I watched, and allowed myself an instant of self pity.

If Collum and I looked like kids playing dress-up, Phoebe was utterly transformed. Since spiky blue hair might draw some attention our way, my friend now wore an auburn wig, braided and coiled behind her head. The eyebrow stud was gone, of course, and her small, pointed face was blotchy as she took her place next to Collum and me. Doug’s whiskey-colored eyes stayed fixed on her as he escorted a sniffling Moira to the steps.

Mac’s face crinkled as he approached. “You stay close to Collum, lass,” he said to me. “And bring yerself home safe, aye?”

Mute, I could only nod.

With a final squeeze, he dropped my hand and joined Lucinda and Moira on the staircase. Only Doug now remained in the chamber, checking his watch and reviewing the dials on Tesla’s machine. My stomach was doing backflips, and I wasn’t sure I could hold down the breakfast Moira had forced on us an hour earlier. Collum’s hands shook as he worried the opal ring on his finger. Seeing him nervous made it better. And worse.

Lucinda’s gaze fixed on mine. Bring her back, she mouthed.

I managed to nod, but fear was starting to take over as purple electricity popped and crackled around the mushroom tops of Tesla’s machines. Building. Growing. Condensing.

No. I—I don’t want to do this. I want to go home. Please. The words died before they reached my tongue, my body frozen in place.

“Okay, guys,” Doug yelled over the increasing whine. “The sun will rise at 0750 on December 6. That’s when the pattern will repeat. I’ll power up the machine at that exact moment to bring you home.” As he looked at Phoebe he tapped two fingers to his heart. “You’ll be there? Promise?”

“On my lunch box,” Phoebe croaked.

Doug smiled though his face had gone bleak and scared. “Good. Then I won’t worry a bit.” He took a breath. “Here we go. Three . . . two . . . one.”

A click as Doug flipped the toggle switch on the back of the master machine.

No. No. No!

Too late.

The two beams blasted toward us, meeting just over our heads in a cataclysmic clash.

Funny, I’d almost grown used to the low pulse of energy that flowed through the chamber. The interruption, the sudden absence, shook me to the bone. It grated along every nerve ending. Doug bolted for the staircase as the incredible power of the ley lines—blocked from their natural flow by Tesla’s current—began circling us.