Ten Thousand Skies Above You

There are moments when Paul’s awkwardness drops away and he suddenly says the exact right thing. Those moments make me feel like I’m melting—like we’re fusing together, ceasing to be two separate people, turning into one.

That night was one of those moments.

“Hey,” I said, more softly. “Mom and Dad are going to that conference in Tokyo in a couple of weeks. You’re not traveling with them, right?”

“We decided against it.”

“Well, then, maybe”—my cheeks flushed with heat—“maybe you could stay over.”

We could be alone in the house. Nowhere near family members who know way the hell too much about my love life already. Instead, we’d be together with absolutely nothing between us, all night long.

He looked at me for a long moment, eyes darkening in a way I remember from that night in the dacha with Lieutenant Markov. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay.”

I laughed softly, self-conscious. “It feels like we haven’t done this before.”

“We haven’t. Well. Not here.”

My Paul was only a sliver of consciousness within Lieutenant Markov that night in the Russiaverse, because he was separated from his Firebird and unable to receive any reminders. But he was there throughout that entire night—so he remembers having sex as vividly as I do. I said, “Does it still count as our first time? Since it’s just our first time in this dimension?”

He brushed his lips against my temple. “I guess it does.”

I slid atop him, my legs on either side of his hips. Paul’s hands caught me at my waist. When I leaned over him, my hair fell past my shoulders, and he shifted slightly beneath me, enjoying the feel of me above him. I couldn’t help imagining us just like this—without our clothes in the way.

Smiling, I teased, “You realize this means we’re going to lose our virginity to each other . . . twice.”

He thought about that for a moment before he started to grin too. “Our lives are strange.”

“Deeply weird,” I agreed, just before we kissed. Paul’s hands slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, slow and sure and hot.

We may not have spent the past months having sex, but that didn’t mean we hadn’t had fun. He knows how I kiss. I know how he touches me. We’ve learned each other inside and out.

And now I have to lie here in bed in the middle of the night, alone and terrified for Paul’s soul—until I’m 100 percent sure my parents are asleep.

By 2:00 a.m., I feel pretty sure Mom and Dad have drifted off, no matter how worried they are. So I get up, tiptoe into the living room in my T-shirt and leggings, and find Theo waiting for me.

He’s sitting at the rainbow table, all three working Firebirds lying in front of him. “I’ve been double-checking each one to make sure they’re operating normally,” he says. Theo picks up the one I took along for my Medievalverse rescue attempt, studying the sheen of the light against its coppery surface. Softly he adds, “Part of Paul’s soul is in this thing. Gotta make sure it keeps ticking, right?”

I nod. As worried as I am for Paul, as determined as I am to begin, I can’t help noticing how exhausted Theo looks. No doubt he told my parents he was going to bed right after them; instead, he sat up, waiting for me.

Then again, maybe sleep is meaningless for him now. “Theo—what Conley said about the dreams—you really haven’t had any?”

He remains bowed over his work. “I haven’t remembered any dreams in a while. Doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I don’t remember them often.” His dexterous hands hesitate, and I can sense him weighing his words. “Thanks for making me part of the deal, by the way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Telling Conley you wanted a cure for me.”

“Paul’s the one who risked everything for you.”

“And I intend to thank him too, once we’ve got him back. But right now, I’m thanking you.” The brighter light he’s aimed at the Firebird silhouettes Theo’s face, and the starker lines reveal that he’s lost weight. It’s not like I never noticed before, but I thought it was the usual grad-student grind. Now I realize Theo’s been fading away. “Sometimes I’ve wondered if you’d ever fully trust me again. Then you stood up for me. Put it all on the line. It was . . . Marguerite . . . you know, let’s stick with thanks.”

I don’t know what to say, so I nod. His eyes meet mine, only for a moment, before he turns back to the Firebird, nods in satisfaction, and snaps it shut again. “They’re ready?” I ask.

“Ready as they’re ever going to be.”

“No point in waiting around until Mom and Dad wake up.” They’d stop me from doing this if they knew, even if it meant locking me in my room or smashing the Firebirds to gold dust. “I should go.”

Theo says, “Correction. We should go.”

“We?” I know I heard him right, but it takes a minute to wrap my head around it. “Conley didn’t say anything about you coming along.”

“He didn’t say I had to stay home, either.” Theo’s grin is sharp enough to cut.

I’m still in shock. “You said—you said you weren’t ever going to travel through the dimensions.”

“That was before they kidnapped my little brother.”

The old nickname—and a reminder that Theo’s not doing this for me. He didn’t even mention saving his own life. Only Paul’s.

Yet I can’t help recalling what Theo said to me. Apparently, when I get a little bit of power, it goes to my head. He sees traveling as a temptation, and Theo’s not good at resisting temptation.

Still, if he’s willing to take this chance for Paul, I have to be willing to take a chance on him.

“All right,” I say. “Let’s go.”

We walk together to my room, where I’ve already posted a KEEP OUT note; my parents will understand the need to keep the room clear for Theo and me to return—if and when we can. I slide two of the Firebirds around my neck, mine and Paul’s; though I know it’s only my imagination, I can’t help thinking Paul’s feels heavier. I remember the Enlightenment scientists who tried to determine the weight of one soul. Now I could tell them.

Theo takes the last Firebird in hand. He stares at it for a moment. Takes a deep breath. Then puts it around his neck—ready for the journey at last.

“Okay?” I say to Theo.

His old bravado returns. “Let’s blow this Popsicle stand.”

My hand closes around my Firebird—the world falls away—

—and I slam into my other self.

This time I’m in bed—definitely one of the better places to arrive in a new dimension. The room is dark, so I can’t really get a look at much. Mostly I just notice that I’m stark naked. Okay, whoever I am in this dimension, I sleep in the nude.

Except . . . I’m breathing hard. My skin is slightly sweaty. I feel faint scrapes along my throat and breasts and thighs—those could be from fingers, or teeth. And there’s a pleasant kind of soreness that tells me this Marguerite just had sex. As in, not even two minutes ago.

I turn my head toward the naked man lying next to me—and see Theo.