Across The Universe Part 9

She looks at me, beaming. "Knocked over a shelf. Should keep all the Archivers down this way occupied until we can find what we're looking for."

I look around. The room is small and dimly lit, with two cracked leather seats positioned in the center. Books and scrolls line the walls, the layers of grime coating the bindings a sign of how long it's been since anyone's come to read them.

"Why keep anything in here?" I ask.

"There are parts of history The House doesn't want its members to know about," Elli confides. "Black spots on an otherwise clean record. Mistakes the Leaders have made, Watchers who didn't do their job as well as they should. Things like that."

"Why bother writing it down at all, then? Wouldn't it be better to forget it altogether?"

Elli shrugs. "Maybe. But The House writes everything down. It's how the rules have always gone. Anyway, I'm glad for it now. Might mean there's a chance we can still find what you're looking for."

"Where do I start?"

"One place is as good as any."

We begin to comb the shelves. I take stacks of books back to the chairs and skim through the first few pages of each one. I want to read them all cover to cover, but Elli reminds me we don't have all day, so I resign myself to setting books aside right away when they don't mention the Key.

After scanning over twenty volumes, each one almost as heavy as I am, a hopelessness begins to creep over my heart. It's then that I approach the shelves in the corner-that I pull out five more books and see it hiding behind all the others.

I drop the stack I'm holding to the floor and reach up to gather the ferreted volume into my arms. It's lighter than the rest, and the protection of the books lined up in front of it has saved it from most of the dust. Stepping over to the center of the room and flopping down on one of the chairs, I crack open the pages on my lap.

My eyes dart over the swirling, handwritten text. The parchment the words are scrawled upon is wrinkled and yellowing. Within the first three pages I find what I'm looking for.

"This one mentions the Key!" I shout out. Elli leaps off the rolling ladder she's perched on and comes running to my side. Looking over my shoulder, she reads aloud the text scrawled across the page.

"The Key unlocks all the mystical power of The House. Its value to our cause is infinite. In the wrong hands, the Key can become a weapon, or worse-the catalyst that leads to our destruction." Elli sits back on her heels and shakes her head. "Leave it to The House to be overdramatic."

"Do you know what this mystical power is that it mentions?" I ask.

"Never heard of it. But whatever it is, I'm guessing it's pretty important."

I continue to read where she left off. "The Key is the focal point of many prophecies-future events that have been foretold to threaten the integrity of The House. Upon hearing these prophecies it has been decided that the Key must be hidden away in one of the many universes we are charged with caring for, in the form of the life that exists there. The power of the Key will then be pa.s.sed down through generations, taking root in the eldest son or daughter that is born until its final discovery. Even then, one such prophecy announced by the first Seer to ever be speaks of a future threat to the Key that, even when it is hidden, seems to end in its inevitable recovery and use against The House. We can only hope that this particular prophecy is false, but in the case that it is not, we must remember the Key's origins-what form it is in and where it has been stowed for safekeeping-so that we can combat the threat ..."

"Well? What else does it say?" Elli needles after I trail off.

"Nothing. The rest of the pages about it have been ripped out." I finger the jagged edges of parchment sticking up from the binding.

Elli draws a sharp intake of breath and wrenches the book from my hands, staring at the torn section in bewilderment. "Who would do such a thing? Defacing the records of The House is punishable by the void."

"I don't know. Whatever's on the missing pages, it has to say exactly where-or who-the Key is. Maybe it even mentions the prophecy of the first Seer. We need to find them."

"At least we've learned something new. It sounds like the Key is in living form. So it's somewhere in one of the universes, walking around, completely unaware of what it is."

I cradle my head in my hands and groan. "There are billions of universes and without the rest of the pages we have no clue where to look!"

"Maybe we shouldn't look at all," Elli says. "After all, the Key was hidden for a reason. Who are we to fool with the laws of The House?"

"Since when do you follow rules?" My words come out harsher than I mean for them to and Elli stands up and backs away, her expression mutinous.

"This isn't a question about whether to follow the rules or not. It's about messing with fate."

"And if the future is really up to fate, then according to the book the Key'll be found regardless of what we do. I say we find it and protect it before anyone else can get to it."

"Well, whatever the case is, we need to get to the bottom of what the Harbingers plan to do with the Key, and why they want to mess with the balance of The House in the first place."

I stand up and gently tug the book free from her arms. Without it she looks empty, naked. An Archiver without a purpose.

"I should take this to my room-hide it before anyone can steal the rest of the pages."

"No need," Elli says. "I'll keep an eye on this place now that I know someone's defaced the book. It'll be safest here, where I can keep watch over it."

I frown, debating on questioning her stance, but one withering look tells me she's not going to budge. Reluctantly, I slip the book back onto its shelf, hiding it behind all the others, and stack the rest of the volumes back in front of it.

"What if we can't stop it, Elli? The prophecy of the first Seer, I mean. Whatever it is-what if we can't save The House?" I ask, keeping my eyes focused on the books in front of me. I don't want Elli to see the fear etched onto my face.

She sets a hand on my shoulder and gently swivels me around. I relent, leaning into her side and letting her take me into her arms. She presses me against her chest, swaying soothingly back and forth.

"It'll be alright," she says. "It has to be. Without The House, there's nothing. There's only the void."

I think back to Dena and Oman's funerals, remembering the sucking, soundless blackness beyond the door. I recall how the dying Watchers were shoved across the threshold, how they blinked out of existence as if they never were.

I imagine that blackness going on forever, infinitely, with no halls or walls or rooms in which to escape from the emptiness.

I imagine ceasing to be.

I hug Elli tighter, tighter than I clung to Noah when I kissed him. She is a reminder that I'm real, that I'm here, and that I'm not floating around in the void I'm picturing in my mind. But in the end, I know it doesn't matter. Clinging and hoping won't change a thing.

The Seers are rarely ever wrong, and if the prophecy the book speaks of is really coming to pa.s.s, then it could mean the end of The House, the end of Elli.

The end of me.

Chapter Fourteen.

Once Elli lets me go and I leave the Archives Room, I still seek comfort. Part of me wants to find Nim-to fall into her arms like I did Elli's and close my eyes until the threat to The House has pa.s.sed-but I know my mentor would be furious if she found out I went looking for information about the Key.

I settle with unlocking the drawer that holds my universe and visiting the Watch Room. Within minutes I'm flying through the vastness of stars and galaxies, winding my way between planets and solar systems on my way to Earth. When I land on the beach I find the lake surface as still as gla.s.s. I inch my way up to the edge until the surf rolls against my toes and watch my reflection ripple across the water.

I do not look anything like Noah. He's all color and intricacies and uniqueness. I'm whitewashed, paler than the sand beneath my feet, my silver eyes hard like metal. For the first time since discovering my little blue planet, I want to be an actual part of it-to live among the people here and get lost in the world. But I can't. I stick out like a sore thumb, a smudge against a clean backdrop.

Noah finds me staring into the lake hours later, sneaking up from behind and wrapping his arms around my waist. I lean back into him, letting my head rest against his shoulder.

"I've been worried about you," he says.

"You shouldn't. I've been fine," I reply.

I spin in his arms, pulling him down by the collar of his jacket until his lips meet mine. I know I can't be a part of this world but I can at least pretend, and this is the easiest way I know of doing that. Sparks shoot through my body, making my heart flutter against my chest as Noah runs his hands down my back and through my hair.

I push him back onto the beach, out of the surf and into the dry sand. He tumbles down to the ground with me atop him, the soft silt breaking our fall as I wind my hands around his neck and my legs between his. Even then, the thought of the void creeps its way into my mind-its emptiness and endlessness.

I push my mouth harder against his, trying to lose myself in the moment. I can feel Noah pulling back, surprised by my hunger, my need. He rolls over on the beach, laying me down underneath him and lifting his head away from mine to look into my eyes. I know he can tell, even between the warmth of our kisses, that something's not right.

"What's wrong, Amara?"

"The House is in danger."

Noah sits back on his heels. "Is there anything I can do?"

I shake my head. "There's nothing anyone can do. I have no clue what's going to happen. If the Harbingers succeed-if they manage to destroy The House-I don't know what'll become of me. Or you, for that matter."

Noah gulps hard. "Stay. Here, with me, I mean. It's safe here-safer than The House, at least. You don't need to be the one to deal with all this."

"If not me, then who? Elli, the Archiver? Her world exists in books and parchment. And Nim-she's never broken a rule in her life. The Leaders won't listen to me, either. I'm alone in this."

Noah takes my hands, pulling me to my feet. He draws me into his chest, leaning my head against his heart until I can hear the persistent thump, thump against his ribcage.

"You're never alone," he says. "You have me."

We stay like that for a long while. Time doesn't matter when I'm wrapped up in his arms. When the sun hangs low on the horizon and casts pink shadows across the clouds, I finally pull away.

"I should get back. Nim will wonder where I am."

"I meant what I said," Noah replies as I turn around. "You can stay here. Be one of us-human. A G.o.d among men. No one'll ever have to know where you come from."

I halt, glancing over my shoulder and catching the hope that flickers across Noah's face. "You know I can't."

"Not even for love?"

I give him the slightest of nods, inclining my chin into my shoulder once before answering. "Not even for life."

I burst upward into a plume of gray smoke, flying off into the atmosphere and breaking out into the stars. The swirling galaxy disappears beneath me as I rocket past meteors and comets, planets and black holes. And then, with only a single thought, I'm back in the Watch Room, sitting in front of my universe as it floats above a clear basin.

But something isn't right. The quiet of The House has been interrupted by an enveloping scream that echoes clear through the door of the chamber I sit in. A beat goes by, and then more shrieks filter in from the hall beyond. A cacophony of shouts rings out, combining to create a chorus of mismatched voices that are tight with panic and fear.

I jump to my feet, scoop my universe out of the bowl, slip the orb into my pocket, and dash to the door. When I step across the threshold a crowd has already formed. I am small enough to slip by, pus.h.i.+ng to the front of the mob in order to see what all the fuss is about.

Two Watchers lay p.r.o.ne on the ground. One is a man-pale and sickly, his silver eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. Next to him is a woman, face down on the floor, her hair obscuring her jawline.

A fist closes around my heart, forcing a gasp of air up my windpipe and over my tongue. Every member of The House looks alike-same hair, same eyes, same skin. Until I flip her over, I won't know, but from where I stand, the body looks like Nim.

I stretch a shaking hand out, a silent tear rolling down my cheek. I hesitate before brus.h.i.+ng my fingers against her shoulder- "Amara! Thank G.o.d you're alright!" Nim yells. I draw my hand back as if I've been burned and glance up. Nim emerges from the crowd across the hall from me, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng a mix of concern and relief.

My worries a.s.suaged by the sight of my mentor, I crouch down over the two fallen Watchers. They don't twitch or moan or move. Their eyes are gla.s.sy and empty, as if their souls have been ripped out and what's left is the same nothingness that the void is made up of.

"They're dead," I say.

"How can that be? Watchers don't die. They grow sick and we cast them into the void. We never let it get this far," Nim replies.

Something wet and warm hits my toes. I look down and find a puddle of silver blood under my feet. It comes from a gaping wound in the dead man's side, just below his armpit. I reach out and roll the woman over. A similar wound rips through her chest, and turning her to face up reveals a pool of silver where she once lay.

"Seems like whoever did this doesn't care about the law of The House as much as you do," I add, rising to my feet. "These Watchers were killed deliberately."

"But they look sick, just like Dena and Oman did," Nim points out. She motions to the bags under the dead bodies' eyes, the way their skin stretches hollowly over their veins.

"That can only mean one thing. Their killer destroyed their universes, and then moved onto them. They didn't want to wait for the void to take them. They wanted us to see."

As I say it, I know I'm right. Death isn't something allowed in The House. The murdered Watchers are a message left for all of us, a way to let us know the rules no longer matter.

"Make a path!" a haughty voice calls from the back of the crowd. "Let me through."

Dante bursts onto the scene. As he looks upon the dead bodies his face turns a horrible shade of green. The sight isn't enough to sway his role as a Leader, however, because the next second he's barking out orders to the mob of people surrounding him. "Find four Aiders, now! Have them cast the bodies into the void before anyone else has to look at them."

He turns on his heels, backing up down the hall. I leap over the fallen Watchers to follow, and Nim trails close behind, wary of leaving me alone with Dante. I follow him all the way to the room with the drawers.

Dante strides up to the wall, pulling a key out from under his s.h.i.+rt collar. It's silver like mine, tarnished and ancient, but its p.r.o.ngs are shaped in a strange pattern. He shoves the key first into one lock, then in another. Both drawers slide open automatically, and when he looks inside them the green tinge of his skin spreads down his neck.

"Their universes are dying, aren't they?" I ask.

Dante whips around, baring his teeth in anger. "You dare to follow me here?"

I ignore his question and press harder with my words. "Hopefully you'll believe me now. The House is in danger. Can't you see that?"

"I see a little girl that's very interested in the death of two of her fellow Watchers. Too curious for my taste."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That it's you. You're behind all these attacks. Admit it, Amara." His voice is a snarl that rips up his throat like a cornered animal. His accusation takes me aback, and I'm left at a loss for how to respond. Thankfully Nim steps in front of me and replies on my behalf.

"She's done no such thing. You as well as anyone else knows it's impossible for her to perform such acts of depravity. Only Harbingers can destroy universes. So unless you're suggesting she's one of them, you'd better recant your statement."

"And what if she's in league with them?"

"I happen to be aware that Amara only just recently found out Harbingers exist. There's no way she could have been working on their side this whole time."

"But you admit it," I say to Dante. "There is a side. Something or someone is destroying universes and killing Watchers."

Dante lets his face go smooth, his anger and fear hidden behind a mask of stone. "I admit no such thing. The Harbingers are completely under the control of The House, and there's no reason for me to believe otherwise."

"Isn't this reason enough?" I shout, pointing at the drawers. "What else will it take for you to open your eyes?"

Dante rushes forward, slamming his hands into my shoulders. I fly into the wall, my back connecting painfully with the marble before I slide down onto the floor. My breath knocks from my lungs and I gasp for air as Nim bends at my side to help me up.

"You won't address a Leader with such insolence again," Dante seethes, "and this is the last time you'll mention any business about the Harbingers turning against The House. If I catch you talking about it again, I'll throw you into the void myself-with or without the consent of the court."