Against a Brightening Sky (10 page)

She angrily wiped away tears on a sleeve. “No, my aunt and uncle. They took care of me, protected me.”

A flicker of movement caught my eye. The princess ghost shimmered into view on the glass door of a curio cabinet near the fireplace. I glanced around the room, finding her face looking back at me from picture frames, silver candlesticks, and a crystal candy dish. She wasn't watching me this time. Alina commanded all of the princess's attention.

Libby scowled and gave me a handkerchief from her pocket. I handed the plain square of cotton to Alina. “Who were your aunt and uncle protecting you from?”

“They never told me.” Alina wiped her eyes and sniffled. “Aunt Mina said I didn't need to know and wasn't to worry, they would keep me safe. America was a big place and no one would find us here.”

Dora twisted in her seat so that she sat facing Alina. Compassion and sympathy were all she let show, but her fingers dug deep into the seat cushions. “Do you remember your parents at all? Or where you lived before you came to San Francisco?”

Alina leaned forward, balling the handkerchief in her fist and rocking slightly. “Sometimes I dream of Mama reading poetry, or of playing with Papa in the snow. But I never see their faces or remember their names. Uncle Fyodor said I was very young when they died and that it was natural I'd forgotten.”

“And your aunt and uncle never told you who your mother and father were?”

“No.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Aunt Mina said it was safer if I didn't know.”

Isadora moved the quilt away, uncovering Alina's face. She stared, searching for something familiar, something she recognized in Alina's features and bright blue eyes. Dora's expression was unreadable to those who didn't know her, emotions tucked away and hidden. But I did know her, and far too well to be fooled. She saw something that troubled her a great deal.

Dora's gaze shifted, moving to a spot behind Alina's shoulder. I'd no idea what she watched so intently, not at first, so I moved to where I could see as well.

The princess ghost looked back at me, calm and serene. Just how much Alina resembled this strange ghost was startling. Alina was a little younger, her features softer, but they had the same blue eyes and thick chestnut hair, the same slant to their chin. Imagining the two of them were related somehow would be an easy trap to fall into.

Resemblance didn't equal kinship, a fact I reminded myself of firmly. This ghost was made of memories, memories that didn't belong to me or to Dora, and undoubtedly not to a girl with no memory at all of who she was, of her family or where she'd spent her life. Looking somewhat alike didn't change any of those things.

And ghosts had been known to alter their appearance in order to gain what they wanted from the living. Dora had been taught that a mirror ghost was a moment frozen in time, unchanging, but the princess had already behaved in unexpected ways. How she manifested and the face she showed could be a trick. I'd be foolish to forget that.

Dora glanced at the ghost. She'd come to the same conclusion, but she still braved the depths of Alina's grief and took the young woman's hand. “Forgive me, but I disagree with your aunt and uncle. I'm not entirely sure how it was done, but someone made you forget deliberately. You're far safer with your memory whole, Alina, and with knowing why people are set on harming you. Dealing with your enemies is much easier if you know who they are.”

Libby cleared her throat. “There's no delicate way to say this, Alina. I don't agree with everything Dora's said or her methods, but she's right about one thing: Not allowing you to know the names of your own parents is very odd. Are you sure your aunt and uncle told you the truth?”

The question was indelicate and bordered on being outright rude, but I understood why Libby asked. She needed a reason for everything that had happened to Alina, a reason not grounded in mysterious enemies or someone stealing Alina's memories by arcane methods. Libby Mills was convinced she knew how the world worked. Shaking her faith in that belief would take a lot more than Dora's word.

If nothing else, the question woke Alina from her shocked haze. She glared at Libby, clearly angry. “Why would they lie?”

“Frankly, to control you.” Libby folded her hands on the table, looking for all the world like a rumpled schoolteacher preparing to give a lecture. Dora rolled her eyes at me, but she'd let Libby have her say. “You're very young. Keeping you afraid ensured that you'd be obedient and not question their decisions. It's not unheard of, especially if they had something to gain.”

Alina's chin came up defiantly, her voice growing rough with emotion. “No, you're wrong. You didn't know them. They gave up everything for me, and you make them sound like thieves.”

“That's quite enough, Libby.” Dora squeezed Alina's hand, but didn't let go. “That someone was willing to go to such lengths to drive Mina and Fyodor out of hiding should be proof enough they told Alina the truth. Unfortunately, their secrets died with them, and finding answers will be that much harder. But first things first. Alina needs a safe place to stay while we sort this mess out. The rooms she shared with her aunt and uncle will be watched. She can't go back there.”

“She's right, that wouldn't be at all wise.” I hadn't thought before Dora spoke up, but Alina didn't have anywhere to go. From the stricken expression on her face, I was sure Alina hadn't looked beyond the next minute. My mind raced, trying to think of suitable lodgings. “Normally I'd suggest putting her in a room at Katie Allen's boarding house, but I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Nor do I, Dee. That Gabe's sent people to stay with her in the past is too well known. As determined as the people after Alina appear to be, they'd locate her within the hour.” Dora tapped a long, slim finger on her knee and frowned. “And I don't feel at all easy about placing Katie or her tenants in harm's way. Ideally, I'd like to find a hiding place with little or no connection to any of us, but we're unlikely to come up with an ideal solution. My house would be much safer, especially with Randy living there, or yours and Gabe's, for that matter.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds, both of us attempting to come up with a solution, before Libby spoke up.

“She could stay in the settlement house with me. I don't think anyone would think to look there, it's far too public.” Libby looked from me to Dora, and on to Alina, her expression eager and seeking approval. “No one will connect my work to Jack and Gabe, and they won't connect me to Alina. Women come and go all the time. A new face in the house won't cause any comment.”

“I'm not keen on the idea. But a place in public view will throw these people off track until we can come up with a permanent solution. At the very least, it will buy us some time. Her pursuers will no doubt search every shadowed corner in the city before looking right under their noses.” Dora glanced at me before turning all her attention on Alina. “Assuming, of course, that Alina agrees. I won't treat her like a child. She has a say in her fate and what happens to her.”

The princess ghost smiled softly at that and faded from view. I didn't know what that meant, not for sure, but I guessed that she approved of Isadora's letting Alina choose. Why she cared was a question I couldn't answer. Almost everything about this ghost was a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Alina held tight to Dora's hand, an anchor against the ambiguity in her life. “I'm grateful for the offer, Libby, but I need to be sure you understand. Helping me is dangerous.” She hesitated, a flash of panic in her eyes. By trying to make Libby see the risk she took, Alina fully understood herself, maybe for the first time. “The people who murdered my family, my—my aunt and uncle, and killed all those strangers watching the parade—killing you won't mean anything to them. Those men won't give up until I'm dead too. I—I don't want anyone else to die protecting me.”

Libby's bright smile was heartbreakingly innocent. She didn't understand; that much was very apparent to me. “No one is going to die. Gabe and his men will find these people before they find you. You'll be safe with me, I promise.”

I had a harder time believing that Alina was truly safe anywhere or with anyone, not until we discovered why she was being hunted. Dora felt the same way; her expression made that clear. We'd both lost our innocence about the world years ago.

The bell on the parlor phone jangled, two long rings and one short. Dora jumped to her feet. “That's Sadie calling from the hospital.”

She dashed from the sitting room. I heard Dora answer and muffled fragments of the conversation, heard Annie come out of the kitchen to stand in the parlor door and wait to hear the news about Jack.

I waited as well, barely able to keep from rushing to the other room and hovering at Dora's shoulder. My stomach knotted, pulled tighter with each tick of the clock. The longer Dora spoke with Sadie, the more I imagined bad news. By the time she hung up, I was braced for the worst.

“Dee! He's going to be all right!” Dora's relieved smile as she came through the door was a welcome sight. She wrapped me in a tight hug. “Sadie says it took forever for them to develop the X-ray films or she'd have called long ago. Jack broke three large bones in his foot and has a moderate concussion, but all the rest is scrapes and bruises. Dr. Jodes is going to keep Jack overnight, just to be safe and make sure nothing else is wrong. Sadie gets to bring him home in the morning.”

“That's such good news!” I laughed and hugged her back. “Sadie must be so relieved.”

“She went on at some length about that. I'm sure you can imagine.” Dora smiled and touched my face. “And I'm to tell you that Sam Butler took Gabe in to see Dr. Jodes. He cracked two ribs, but the doctor taped them tight, and Sam is taking Gabe home. Sadie says you're not to scold Gabe overmuch when you see him. I told her I couldn't guarantee that last part.”

“Sam's a good man.” The worried knot in my stomach unraveled completely. Gabe and Jack would both heal. I brushed away a tear. “I knew I could count on him. But what about Connor? I can't leave him alone.”

“Connor will be fine. I'll strengthen the wards around his bedroom and the house before Sadie gets home. Trust me to take care of things here. Your job is to go home and fuss over your husband.” Dora patted my shoulder and went to sit with Alina again. The young woman rested her head on Isadora's shoulder, grief shattered and numb, trusting that she was welcome. How she knew, I couldn't say, but Dora folded Alina into her arms, protective and tender.

I'd never have imagined Isadora letting a total stranger get inside the barrier she kept between herself and the world. Protecting herself from the pain and emotions of others helped keep her sane, but I couldn't deny what was right in front of me. That sense there were things left unsaid, things Dora didn't want to believe might be true, came back tenfold.

When the time was right, or when she was very, very sure of the truth, Dora would tell me. Until then I'd savor my luck and Sadie's luck too, and thank Providence that Jack and Gabe were coming home to us. We could have lost everything today, all we held dearest in the world.

If I doubted the truth in that, I'd only to think of all the new-made ghosts wandering near Lotta's fountain, or look at Alina's tear-ravaged face.

*   *   *

I went home and did exactly what Isadora said; I fussed over Gabe. That he let me fuss worried me at first, but he was tired more than anything. The pain medicine Dr. Jodes had given him added to his fatigue. By the time we'd finished supper, Gabe could barely keep his eyes open. Going to bed early seemed the wise thing to do.

Exhausted as I was, I couldn't bring myself to fall asleep. Listening to the small noises Gabe made in his sleep, feeling him next to me alive and safe, was much more important than rest. And the truth was that I was too frightened to close my eyes, afraid I'd have nightmares about explosions, the screams of people dying, and the struggle to defend Connor as ghosts crowded me against a wall. The calmness I'd felt at the time had totally deserted me, growing more distant hour by hour. Reliving the day, even in dreams, might undo me.

Sleep always wins in the end. That the dream I fell into wasn't about the parade or the aftermath didn't make the nightmare less horrifying. I was trapped in the ruin of another woman's life, watching events unfold through her eyes.

*   *   *

The guards moved the three of us to new quarters every few weeks, always with very little warning and always at night. No one would see my sisters and me in the darkness, or wonder why men with rifles herded us into the back of a truck. We'd stopped unpacking all but one small bag for fear of leaving something important behind. Once we'd left one isolated prison for another, there was no going back.

This day wasn't any different. Men came to our room just after supper and gave us a few minutes to gather our belongings. My younger sister slipped on the stairs while struggling with the heavy cases, but refused to let any of these men help her. We'd already been told that anything we couldn't carry would be left behind. The guards tossed the satchels into the back of a truck before ordering the four of us inside and tying the canvas flap shut.

The inside was dark and stuffy, a canvas box without windows to let in a scrap of moonlight or let us see where we were going, or allow us a whiff of air that didn't smell of gasoline. Empty wooden crates were all the seats we had. A scowling guard sat in the back, a rifle cradled in his arms. He was bald and looked older than our father, and his coat reeked of fish and boiled cabbage.

Hate glittered in his eyes. I'd never get used to being hated by strangers.

My sisters and I held hands, but didn't speak. None of us wanted to risk being sick in the closed-up truck or give the guard reason to shoot us.