between him and Cam? and Is he still mad at me about that kiss? and Is it wrong that
Miles is coming too? and also What are the odds of Daniel showing up at my parents'
house tomorrow even though he says he can't see me?
Arriane cleared her throat. "Yes, what about Daniel?" she repeated quietly. "Time
will tell."
"So do we have plane tickets or something?" Shelby asked. "Because if we're
flying, I need to pack my serenity kit, essential oils, and heating pad. You don't want to
see me at thirty-five thousand feet without them."
Roland snapped his fingers.
Near his feet, the shadow cast by the open door peeled itself off the hardwood
planks, rising the way a trapdoor might to lead down to a basement. A gust of cold swept
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up from the floor, followed by a bleak blast of darkness. It smelled like wet hay as it
shrank into a small, compact sphere. But then, at a nod from Roland, it ballooned into a
tall black portal. It looked like the sort of door that would lead to a restaurant kitchen, the
swinging kind with a round glass window in the top. Only, this one was made out of dark
Announcer fog, and all that was visible through the window was a darker, swirling
blackness.
"That looks just like the one I read about in the book," Miles said, clearly
impressed. "All I could manage was a weird sort of trapezoidal window." He smiled at
Luce. "But we still made it work."
"Stick with me, kid," Roland said, "and you'll see what it's like to travel in style."
Arriane rolled her eyes. "He's such a show-off."
Luce cocked her head at Arriane. "But I thought you said--"
"I know." Arriane put up a hand. "I know I repeated that whole spiel about how
dangerous Announcer travel is. And I don't want to be one of those sucky do-as-I-saynot-as-I-do angels. But we all agreed--Francesca and Steven, Mr. Cole, everyone--"
Everyone? Luce couldn't group them together without seeing a glaring missing
piece. Where was Daniel in all of this?
"Besides." Arriane smiled proudly. "We're in the presence of a master. Ro's one of
the very best Announcer travelers." And then, in a whispered aside to Roland, "Don't let
it go to your head."
Roland swung open the Announcer's door. It groaned and creaked on shadow
hinges and swung open onto a dank, yawning pit of emptiness.
"Um ... what is it again that makes traveling by Announcer so dangerous?" Miles
asked.
Arriane pointed around the room, at the shadow under the desk lamp, behind
Shelby's yoga mat. All of the shadows were quivering. "An untrained eye might not know
which Announcer to step through. And believe us, there are always uninvited lurkers,
waiting for someone to accidentally open them."
Luce remembered the sickly brown shadow she'd tripped over. The uninvited
lurker that had given her the nightmarish glimpse of Cam and Daniel on the beach.
"If you pick the wrong Announcer, it's very easy to get lost," Roland explained.
"To not have any idea where--or when--you're stepping through to. But as long as you
stick with us, you don't have anything to worry about."
Nervously, Luce pointed into the belly of the Announcer. She didn't remember the
other shadows they'd stepped through looking quite so murky and dark. Or maybe she
just hadn't known the consequences until now. "We're not just going to pop up in the
middle of my parents' kitchen, are we? Because I think my mom might pass out from the
shock--"
"Please." Arriane clucked her tongue, guiding Luce, then Miles, and then Shelby
to stand before the Announcer. "Have a little faith."
It was like pushing through a murky wet fog, clammy and unpleasant. It slid and
coiled over Luce's skin and stuck in her lungs when she breathed. An echo of ceaseless
white noise filled up the tunnel like a waterfall. The two other times Luce had traveled by
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Announcer, she'd felt lumbering and hurried, catapulting though darkness to come out
somewhere light. This was different. She'd lost track of where and when she was, even of
who she was and where she was going.
Then there was a strong hand yanking her out.
When Roland let her go, the echoing waterfall trickled to a drip, and a whiff of
chlorine filled her nose. A diving board. A familiar one, under a lofty arched ceiling lined
with broken stained-glass panels. The sun had passed over the high windows, but its light
still cast faint colored prisms onto the surface of an Olympic-size pool. Along the walls,
candles flickered in stone recesses, throwing off a dim, useless light. She'd recognize this
church-gymnasium anywhere.
"Oh my God," Luce whispered. "We're back at Sword and Cross."