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the process. After I had finished sneezing and hacking, I turned, curled into his
arms, and we slept. Well, he did. I stayed awake most of the night, staring into a
blackness that was occasionally punctured by light from the passing cars.
 Tamsin, Gabriel says to me as we're sitting at Aunt Rennie's table,
eating the pizza that he picked up. Or at least he's eating it. I'm too busy
shredding my pizza crust into shards and then pulverizing the shards into crumbs.
 You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?
 You mean intentionally? With my fingertips I begin sweeping the crumbs into a
pile in the center of my plate. But he doesn't even smile, just reaches across the
table, his hand forcing my chin up until I meet his eyes.
 I don't know, I whisper. All last night I had watched him sleep, my fingers laced
together so I wouldn't be tempted to touch his face and possibly wake him.
 I'll try not to, I say, attempting to lighten my tone. My cell phone rings, the
word HELLCRATER flashing onto the screen in stark black letters. I swallow against
the sudden stab of pain in my throat. This morning, when I'd asked Gabriel to
locate my parents, he had closed his eyes for barely a second and then said,
 They're home Relief had swept through me. But right now I don't have the
energy to lie to my mother about why I'm back in the city. When at last the
phone goes silent, Gabriel says,
 Whatever you're thinking, you-- The house phone shatters the rest of what he
was going to say. I jump, my elbow jarring my plate across the table. I glance at
the yellow phone shrilling imperiously on thekitchen wall. It seems my mother
won't be denied. On stiff legs I walk into the kitchen.
 Hello?
 Tamsin Clear as ice water, his voice pours into my head.
 Mr. Knight, I say. There's a low chuckle.
 I assume you have something for me?
 Maybe, I hedge as Gabriel pushes back his chair with what I feel is an
unnecessarily loud scrape. A measured pause, and then Alistair says,
 Don't play games, Tamsin. You won't like the results. I swallow.
 How's my sister? He ignores this.
 When?
 Tonight, I say slowly, my eyes fixated on the ridiculously cheerful kitchen
wallpaper. Red cherries and round pink strawberries dance in loose columns.
 Eleven forty-five.
 Where?
 Let's meet at Grand Central Station. By the information kiosk I reach one hand
out to touch a cherry. It blurs and runs through my fingers. A small, sharp silence
pokes at the connection between us and then I hear Alistair draw in a breath.
 Very well, he says, satisfaction brimming in his voice.
 Put my sister on, I say softly.
 Would it really do you any good? he asks almost gently, and then the dial
tone is buzzing in my ear. I slam down the receiver and then I slam it down a few
more times. I start bashing it against the cherries and strawberries, vaguely
aware that Gabriel is trying to wrench it from my fingers. Finally, he squeezes my
wrist until my hand opens and I drop the receiver for good, letting it crash
against the tile floor.
 I'm okay, I say into Gabriel's shoulder, my words muffled in his shirt. His hand
cradles the back of my head.
 Yeah, he says, sounding entirely unconvinced. At a quarter to midnight,
Grand Central is a very different place than in the daytime. Only a few people
rush through the great marble hall, heading toward train platforms or following
the signs marked subway. All the ticket booths are closed except for one,
behind which a sleepy-looking woman eyes us briefly before going back to her
magazine. My eyes wander upward and I let them rest for an instant on the
beauty of the gold-worked constellations hanging in the blue domed ceiling.
Then I look back down at the four-sided bronze clock that presides over the
Main Concourse, its stately faces like unblinking eyes that keep watch in each
direction. As expected, the information kiosk is closed for the night. But still a girl
waits there, wearing a torn and tattered black dress, her hair falling across her
shoulders like a whisper. As I near her, I can't help but wince.
 Ro, I say softly, my hands reaching out for her. Purplish-yellow shadows cluster
under her eyes and her lips are dry and cracked, even as they spread into a
smile.
 Tamsin, she sighs, and at that Alistair steps out from behind the other side of
the kiosk. Unlike my sister's, his skin is flushed and plump with health, his dark
raincoat fitting crisply across his shoulders. In one hand he holds a small black
traveling case. His eyes skip coldly over Gabriel before settling on me.
 Well? he says, and my sister turns, reaching out one fluttering hand toward
him. He brushes her off, as though she's no more than an insect who has
blundered onto his sleeve.
 How do I know that you'll release her? He smiles.
 Once I have the Domani, I won't need her anymore. I stare at my sister,
willing her to acknowledge this, but she only hums a little, plays with a loose
thread on her sleeve. It's then that I notice her feet are bare, streaked with dirt. I
swallow a surge of anger.
 Or Agatha? A smile slithers across his face.
 Your delicious little friend? I consider throwing up right then and there, but
Gabriel presses my fingers with his own.
 Easy, he murmurs.
 She was useful, Alistair says, giving a flick of his fingers.
 But she'll live Then his gaze sharpens on me.
 If you give me what I want. Now.
 Fine, I say, taking a breath to steady my voice.
 But you should know one thing. You and I are nothing alike. Talent or no Talent.
You're not doing this for your family, whatever you might think. You're doing this
for yourself. And that's the difference between you and me. Alistair stares at
me for a second, his face blank, unreadable.
 How very touching, he says at last, biting the words off.
 Now, shall we proceed? I nod. I don't have much bargaining power.
 Behind you, I say. Slowly, Alistair turns, studies the clock above our heads.
 Of course, he says softly.
 So many times I passed by this. And it was here all along Then he pivots neatly
and in a sickeningly cheerful voice says,
 Are you ready, my dear? Rowena looks up from the thread on her sleeve,
gives him a vacant smile.
 Open it, he says to me as he wraps one hand around my sister's arm, his
knuckles suddenly bulging into hard white knobs. My sister looks up at him, then
gives a shrill little laugh.
 We're playing a game? she asks. I swallow hard, turn back to the clock.
 Help me up, I whisper to Gabriel.
 Are you sure this is--
 Yes, I say, although my teeth are chattering. He cups his palms, and before he
can change his mind, I step intothem and hoist myself up onto the counter. The
clock looms directly above my hand.
 Step back, I say to Gabriel, having no idea what might happen otherwise.
 You don't want to freeze again.
 Hey! There's a startled shout from the ticket seller.
 Get down from there.
 Hurry, Alistair hisses. There is no time to rethink this. I arch upward, brush the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]