Infinityglass(43)
“To my bride,” he says. “To Melina.”
“To Melina,” the crowd says in chorus.
Before I could catch my breath, the scene changed again.
Six women in prayer. A rosary in my hand. My hair in a tight bun. Feelings of peace, concern, benevolence. And sensible shoes.
The yellow fever is spreading; bodies lie in piles on the streets outside. We can’t take on any more orphans, but the infection makes new ones every day. Every hour.
Is it punishment? Justice? Crying, hungry children speak of neither.
The sound of a bouncing ball echoes down the hallway. Playtime and prayer time blend into an ache in my chest.
The ache spread out through my limbs, and my head began to spin. Three sets of sight competed, fighting for purchase.
Maman and I, leaving the ballroom as Monsieur Brionne watches.
My husband and I, laughing as we dance in the middle of the floor.
My gnarled hands and the pain in my knees, speaking of good use and great age as I kneel to pray.
“Hallie.”
Who is Hallie?
“Please, Hallie. Wake up.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, breathed deeply into my center, and pushed.
Cecile Dupart.
Melina Landrieu.
Sister Mary Christina.
Their worlds disappeared, but their memories remained. Time sealed itself shut behind them, and the ballroom fell silent.
I’d experienced more life than I could ever live on my own in the Bourbon Orleans ballroom, in the span of a few seconds. Something in me sensed the wrongness of the situation, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want it. I could go on a thousand jobs for Chronos, but I’d never dance in a pre–Civil War ballroom. I could fall in love a hundred times, but I’d never be the debutante who married an aspiring politician in the calm that came before the Vietnam War. I could live for eighty more years, but I’d never, ever be a nun.
Ever.
“Hallie?”
My eyes flew open. It took me a few seconds to focus on the chandelier above me, and a few more to find Dune’s gray green eyes.
“Dune?” I was on the floor. “What happened?”
“I don’t think we should talk about this here.” His face was drawn, his eyes guarded.
“Why?” I struggled to sit.
“Not here, Hallie.”
He scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. I rested my head on his chest, barely noticing my surroundings as he took me to the room.
The unfamiliar memories that now belonged to me repeated on playback in my brain. I had real power. Not false bravery or blustering confidence. I could still feel it in my veins, pulsing under my skin.
“Are you okay?” Dune sat beside me so softly that the couch barely moved, a feat for someone his size. He brushed my hair back from my face.
How had we gotten to the room so quickly?
“I don’t know.” I tried to sit up and he helped me, his arm around my waist. “Was … was it like last time?”
“It was different.” Caution kept his voice guarded. “Powerful.”
“It felt like freedom. Ultimate, supernatural freedom. I lived other people’s lives through their eyes, and I felt all their emotions. But you didn’t feel that, did you? What did you see?”
He didn’t answer. Just looked at me like he was afraid of me.
“Dune?”
“You changed.”
Dune
“You were three different people. At first, you just froze. Your face was expressionless.” Her irises had reflected the light pouring in through the windows, and she’d stopped blinking. I’d stepped back from her, and that’s when her feet left the ground. “Then the rip sucked you in. It was all around me, but I wasn’t part of it.”
Like I was the ghost, and the rip world was the reality.
“What else?” she prompted.
“Your facial features rearranged. When it happened outside Lafitte’s, it was one face. Today, it was three. A young girl with brown eyes. A blonde with a slightly crooked nose. An older woman with dark skin. You were three people in quick succession, and then, somehow, you were all three at once.”
She nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Sounds about right.”
“You pushed them back. The images from the room flowed into the hole in time, and the rips went in, too. And you were back.”
She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered.
“Hallie, look at me. You’re either cold or in shock. Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”
When she didn’t take advantage of the tease I’d set up, my stomach dropped. I grabbed her bag, unzipped it, and handed it over. She fished out a change of clothes, along with her brush and a makeup bag.
“Do you need help with anything?”
“No. Just … don’t move.” She disappeared into the bathroom. I heard running water and an electric toothbrush. A few moments later, she opened the door, wearing yoga pants and a tank top. Her face was clean, and she’d tied her hair in a knot on top of her head.