Fallen 2. Torment(78)

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noticed. The dealer's name tag read VERA in lopsided white letters. But the image was

starting to wobble and fade. Soon the whole image broke apart into tiny shadow shreds

that fell to the floor and curled up like the ash from burning paper.

"But wait, isn't this the past?" Luce asked.

"Don't think so," Shelby said. "Or, at least, it's not far in the past. There was an ad

for the new Cirque du Soleil in the background. So what do you say?"

Go all the way to Las Vegas to find this woman? A middle-aged sister would

probably be easier to approach than parents well into their eighties, but still. What if they

made it all the way to Vegas and Luce choked again?

Shelby nudged her. "Hey, I must really like you if I'm agreeing to go to Vegas.

My mom was a waitress there for a couple of years when I was a kid. I'm telling you, it's

Hell on earth."

"How would we get there?" Luce asked, not wanting to ask Shelby if they could

borrow SAEB's car again. "How far is Vegas, anyway?"

"Too far to drive." Miles spoke up. "Which is fine with me because I've been

wanting to practice stepping through."

"Stepping through?" Luce asked.

"Stepping through." Miles knelt down on the ground and brushed the fragments of

the shadow together in his palms. They looked almost tired, but Miles kept kneading

them with his fingers until they formed a loose, messy ball. "I told you I couldn't sleep

last night. I sort of broke into Steven's office through the transom."

"Yeah, right." Shelby balked. "You flunked levitation. You're definitely not good

enough to float in through the transom."

"And you're not strong enough to drag the bookcase over," Miles said. "But I am,

and I have this to show for myself." He grinned, holding up a thick black tome titled An

Announcer How-To: Summon, Glimpse, and Travel in Ten Thousand Easy Steps. "I also

have an enormous bruise on my shin from a poorly planned exit through the transom, but

anyway ..." He turned to Luce, who was having a hard time not ripping the book from his

hands. "I was thinking, with your obvious talent for glimpsing, and my superior

knowledge--"

Shelby snorted. "What'd you read, point three percent of the book?"

"A very useful point three percent," Miles said. "I think we might be able to do

this. And not end up lost forever."

Shelby cocked her head suspiciously but didn't say anything else. Miles kept

kneading the Announcer in his palm, then began stretching it out. After a minute or two,

it had grown into a sheet of gray almost the size of a door. Its edges were wobbly and it

was almost translucent, but when he pressed it away from his body a little, it seemed to

take a firmer shape, like a plaster cast after being set to dry. Miles reached for the left

side of the dark rectangle, feeling around its surface, searching for something.

"That's weird," he muttered, trolling the Announcer with his fingers. "The book

says if you make the Announcer area large enough, the surface tension reduces by a ratio

that allows for penetration." He sighed. "There's supposed to be a--"

"Great book, Miles." Shelby rolled her eyes. "You're a real expert now."

"What are you looking for?" Luce asked, stepping close behind Miles. Suddenly,

watching his hands rove, she saw it.

A latch.

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She blinked and the image vanished, but she knew where it had been. She reached

around Miles and pressed her own hand against the left side of the Announcer. There.

The touch of it against her fingers made her gasp.

It felt like the kind of heavy metal latch with a bolt and hasp used to lock a garden

gate. It was freezing, and rough with invisible rust.

"Now what?" Shelby said.

She looked back at her two very baffled friends, shrugged, fiddled with the lock,

then slowly slid the invisible bolt to the side.

With its lock released, a shadow door swung up, almost knocking the three of

them backward.

"We did it," Shelby whispered.

They were gazing into a long, deep, red-black tunnel. It was clammy inside and

smelled like mildew and watered-down cocktails made with cheap liquor. Luce and

Shelby looked at each other uncertainly. Where was the blackjack table? Where was the

woman they'd been looking at before? A red glow pulsed from deep within, and then

Luce could hear slot machines ringing, coins clinking into pay baskets with a clatter.

"Cool!" Miles said, grabbing for her hand. "I read about this part, it's a transitional

phase. We just have to keep going."

Luce reached for Shelby's hand, gripping it tightly as Miles stepped inside the