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Authors: Larkin Reed Tucker Reed Kelly Moore

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BOOK: Amber House: Neverwas
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the ritual unsettled me. When I closed my eyes, I thought of the

other Sarah. The Sarah in the gold dress, dancing on the floor of

stars.

Waltzing with Jackson.

Before Richard shoved us apart. Before Richard struck

Jackson in the mouth.
The other Richard.

I pulled back. That too-familiar look of hurt and confusion

flashed across Richard’s face. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I just — can we sit down?” I wanted off that dance floor.

Richard led me to a bench by the staircase. “Can I get you

water? Are you all right?”

“I just need to sit a moment.”

I felt sick that I had let Richard close to me. Again. That I was

here, dressed up, dancing with him, instead of with Jackson.

Except — I thought of the trip to Richmond. The photos on

the wall. He
was
different. Like my parents were different. The same, but better. It felt wrong to judge this Richard for the other

Richard’s mistakes. What a mess it all was.

“You wore the snowflake,” he said. I could see he was touched.

“I love it — it was just the right touch.”

He sat down on the bench next to me. “Parsons? Can I ask you

something?”

“Sure.”

“How come you missed the train yesterday? I mean, I saw you

in the station. I thought you were coming on board. Then the

next thing I knew, the train was pulling out without you.”

o279

I looked at him without a clue about how to answer that.

He looked down, away. “I mean, I thought maybe you were

just ditching me.”

“No,” I said. “No. You’re a great guy, Hathaway.”

“Yeah?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah. You know that.”

He smiled. Then his face turned serious. Uncomfortable.

“You know that thing I told you my mom said about Jackson

Harris?”

“She thought he was dangerous?”

He shook his head a little. “She was
warned
he presented a

danger
.”

“All right.”

He looked me in the eyes, asking me silently to understand.

“She told me the same thing about you.”

I might have been offended but for the fact that I knew the

warning was true. I did present a danger to Richard and his fam-

ily. They were a happy family now, in this time. Who knew what

would happen to them in another time? Or what would happen

to any of us?

“I would never deliberately do anything to hurt you or your

family, Hathaway,” I said.

He smiled. “I know that already, coz. I just wanted to ask

you — to be careful, I guess. Be careful.”

“I’m trying,” I said.

He flashed me a crooked smile. “That mistletoe didn’t work,

so I’m gonna be looking for you at midnight. I’m a superstitious

guy.” I blushed; he laughed. “Got to get back to my parents. It’s

almost time for the presentation.”

My eyes leapt to the clock. 10:56. The time was almost up.

Maybe this wasn’t going to happen. Maybe Richard would be

collecting on that kiss. I wondered how I felt about that. If

Jackson couldn’t love me, maybe Richard could.

280 O

“Oh, hey,” he said, turning back. “I almost forgot. Mom

wanted me to give this to your mom, in case she needed to go

over early. She heard your mom’s copy went missing.”

I swiveled my head to look at the thing Richard was holding

out for me to take.

A plastic card key.

CH A P T ER THI RT Y

K

The sight of that card — that one thing, more than anything,

made it all real for me. Jackson had said the key would come to

me. And it did. Like magic. Like it was meant to be.

As soon as Richard disappeared into the crowd, I stood to search

for Jackson. It took me a second, but I found him. He was already

looking toward me, just like the time before. I nodded and smiled.

Concern filled his features; he shook his head a fraction of an

inch. I glanced around the room to see if anyone had noticed our

collusion. Movement of a blond head caught my eye — Jaeger

turning to his companion.
What were the odds that he’d been looking
my way just when I held up that card? And what would it mean to him
anyway?

I thought about going to speak to my parents — some fuzzy

notion about saying good-bye. But I realized that wasn’t possible.

Instead, I just started walking toward the stairs.

My mother met me on the steps, coming down as I headed up

to get my cloak. “I think things are just about to start, honey.

Come back to the table with me.”

I found it hard to speak. “Restroom,” I managed.

“Well, hurry, then. It was pretty crowded. You don’t want to

miss Stevenson’s film clip.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. She looked at me queerly, tucked

one of my curls back into place, then returned my nod. And

let me go.

N

282 O

Jackson was waiting for me under a streetlight, with a duffel bag.

“I came as fast as I could,” I said.

Jackson smiled. “You came plenty fast enough.” He pulled out

the pocket watch I had given him to check the time.

“Hey, it’s coming in handy,” I said.

“Like you could see the future,” Jackson said.

I pointed at the bag. “What’s in there?”

“Stuff we’ll need.”

“You and Sammy,” I said, shaking my head a little.

I gave him the key. He stared at it a moment, almost like he

couldn’t believe it. Then he said, “Come on,” and led me to a side

door marked staff. “Let’s see if this works.”

The door lock was a box card-reader, just like the one on

the gates to the exhibit. The card key changed a little light on the reader’s face from red to green. Jackson turned the handle and

the door opened. We slipped inside and he closed the door as

quietly as he could.

We were in one of those hidden service halls the public never

sees, painted the usual baleful yellow, made even uglier by the

weak and greenish lighting. Jackson pulled out his watch again,

then stood watching it. I leaned in to whisper, “Shouldn’t we get

moving?”

He put his finger to his lips, then held his hand palm up. Wait.

Evidently, we were running in silent mode and Jackson knew

what he was doing. I waited.

After a minute or two, we heard a door open and steps reced-

ing. Jackson took my hand and started moving with a quiet

measured pace. I walked on my toes so my heels wouldn’t

click, taking several steps for each one of his. Midway down

the hall, I heard a man whistling and heavy footsteps coming

toward us. I tugged Jackson’s hand to retreat. He didn’t even

slow down, just pulled my hand firmly to keep me heading

down the hall.

o283

The whistling, the footsteps, got louder. I could see the side

hall the man would emerge from. Any second now.

Jackson guided me firmly into an alcove — the entrance

to the restrooms. He cracked open the ladies’ door, we slid

inside, and he closed it softly, just as the whistling reached the

alcove. And receded behind the opposite door.

Instantly, we were out and running lightly up the rest of the

hall and the stairs at its end. That brought us to the main hall,

near the Old Masters. Jackson pointed up into the corners of the

space, where the black Cyclops eyes of several security cameras

stared down on us. He whispered, “That guy we heard watches

the monitors. We have a few minutes. We have to hurry.”

At the entrance to the Amber House exhibit, there was yet

another security camera. Jackson handed me his bag and pulled

himself up onto the heavy chest-high wall molding. “All right,”

he said, “give me the camera that’s in the bag.” I passed up an

instant-photo camera, which Jackson used to take a picture from

as near the security camera as possible.

As the camera whirred and hummed, and then extruded a

developing print from a slot in its front, I handed Jackson the

other two items in the sack — a roll of tape and a metal basket.

He taped his instant photo into the bottom of the basket, slid the

basket over the end of the security camera, and then taped that

in place.

I got it finally. Even after we opened the exhibit’s gate, the

security guy would still think it was closed, because of the photo

filling the camera’s view.

He jumped down, grinning. “Saw that done in a movie once.”

He pulled our magic key from his pocket and used it to open the

“Amber House” gate. He slid it open partway and handed me

the card. “You hang on to this.” I thought it not quite sensible —

why not just tuck it back in his pocket? But I slipped it into the

bodice of my dress to have it at the ready.

284 O

“Got any idea where the gun is?” he asked.

“Wasn’t here when I came through. And I didn’t see an empty

spot for it. Mom said toward the back on the east side.”

“Since this entrance faces southeast, I’m guessing she meant

the right side, but I’m also guessing her sense of direction is a

little iffy. We better split up and get looking.” He checked his

watch. “It’s eleven eighteen.”

We hurried down the steps; he headed one direction and I

headed the other.

Right, skip, right
played in my head as I tried to do a thorough job of checking every case, every nook, every corner. A clock

was tick-tick-ticking in my head. I walked in circles, trying to

make sure I missed nothing.

And finally, in a rear faux room set up with eighteenth-

century furniture atop a Persian rug, I found it. The reason I

hadn’t seen an empty spot for the gun earlier was because Claire

Hathaway sent along the whole glass-topped Chippendale side-

board that she kept it in at home.

I walked up to the little table. The gun was indeed under the

glass, polished and gleaming. The coin in its handle seemed to

possess a glow of its own. But the case, of course, was locked.

Someone grabbed me from behind. I almost screamed.

“It’s me,” Jackson whispered in my ear. “Is that it?” He stared

down at the object of our hunt with fascination.

“The case is locked,” I whispered back. “How do we get it?”

He looked at me, reached behind us, picked up a small marble

bust of someone or other of my ancestors — and smashed the

glass.

“Oh, my God,” I hissed, as much for the destruction as for

the noise. I was from Amber House; I couldn’t help being a

preservationist.

Jackson was inspecting the gun. “This Janus coin is held in by

screws. We don’t have time to get it out — we should just take

o285

the whole thing.” He handed it to me, and I put it in my evening

bag. “You get going. I’ll meet you at the subway. There’s one

more thing I have to do.”

I stood frozen, confused.
Leave? Without him?
“What if we get separated? I don’t want to go without you.”

“Dammit, Sare, do what I say! I’m the man with the plan,

remember?”

I nodded and turned, winding my way toward the front. I

looked back. Jackson had gone deeper into the exhibit.
Why?

I couldn’t make myself go without him. It just wasn’t possible.

What point was there for me to leave without him?

I reversed course, running silently in his wake. I saw him stop

at a mustard-colored trunk at the back of the exhibit, decorated

with oxblood hearts and doves. He opened its lid and crouched

down, studying its contents.

I walked up behind him silently, drawing close enough to see

wires snaking up and down, attached to something with a blink-

ing light inside the trunk. “What is it?”

“Dammit, Sarah. I told you to go!”

“What is it, Jackson? What are you doing?”

A voice came from behind us. “I was just about to ask the

same thing.”

It was Jaeger.

We turned to face him together. “How’d you get in here?” I

asked.

He patted his waistcoat pocket. “Your mother’s key card.” He

held up a little box with an antenna on it and said to Jackson, “If

you touch those wires, I won’t need this to trigger it.”

“You’re going to blow up our stuff?” I asked.
Why?

He chuckled. “No, Miss Parsons. Well, I guess, yes, actually.

But that is not my ultimate intent. My goal is to —”

“— blow up the people visiting the exhibit,” Jackson

finished.

286 O

Thereby killing many of the most powerful people in the western hemi-sphere
, I realized, and remembered the Jewish Intelligence

prediction:
Destabilize the Unification movement with one big boom.

“Yes, exactly, Mr. Harris,” Jaeger said amiably, “with two
R
s.

I had everything arranged here. But now you two are — how is

it you say it? Flies in the ointment.”

“How did you know where to find us?”

“I saw you — both of you — at the gala. With a key card like

mine. Excellent disguise, by the way,” he said to Jackson. “You

shouldn’t be here. I paid a sheriff to pick you up. He was evi-

dently incompetent. I won’t use him again.”

“No,” Jackson agreed. “You won’t.”

Jaeger laughed, incredulous and amused. “Is that a threat, Mr.

Harris? But I fear you left behind your shotgun. And I have this.”

He held up the detonator. “And this.” He pulled a small gun from

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