Lantern Read online

  “What? Why?”

  “Moretta never shared a kind word with me. I was a burden to her. After long days of work, she had to come home to take care of me, to cook and to clean the hovel our parents left us. I was too small to help. When she turned twelve, she began courting. But no one ever proposed. She blamed me.”

  Tori bit back tears. Jared’s life had sounded awful, hard. She couldn’t imagine it. “Why didn’t anyone adopt you? Couldn’t Social Services help find another family member to take care of you or put you in foster care?”

  Jared stared, confused. “I’m not certain Havenbrim provided such options.”

  “Where is Havenbrim?” While waiting for an answer, Tori took another look at Jared’s appearance. He looked human. His ears weren’t pointed like an elf’s; nothing looked out of place except for the fact that his body seemed to be made of light rather than flesh and bone. Yet, somehow, he looked solid, lifelike, and whole.

  “It’s a village in the country of Llum.”

  Okay, maybe he is some kind of fairy—a light fairy, maybe? “Do others in Llum glow like you?”

  Jared shook his head. His hand touched the glass, fingers spreading as he flattened his palm. “We are like you.”

  “Human,” Tori whispered.

  “Yes.”

  Her heart thudded. “Are you from an earlier time?” she said, wrinkling her nose at his plain button-up shirt and pants that faded in and out as she spoke.

  Jared shrugged. “I don’t think so. Where am I now?”

  “In a lantern—well, obviously in a lantern.” Her cheeks flushed. “We’re on my grandmother’s property in Charlottesville, Virginia. It’s a gothed-up plantation, the perfect place to spend Halloween.”

  Jared tilted his head toward her, pressing his forehead to the glass. At first, Tori thought maybe he hadn’t understood what she’d meant by gothed-up. But then he smiled. “It’s Halloween?”

  “Almost.” Her heart fluttered. He recognizes Halloween as a normal holiday. Maybe he’s not so foreign after all. “It’s not tomorrow night, but the night after. Our costumes are ready, but—” She frowned, trailing her finger along the glass. “I’d rather come back here and figure out how to get you out of the lantern.”

  “I see.” Jared reached out his hand to touch the tip of Tori’s finger where it met the glass. “You have plans to dress in costumes—you and...?”

  “Kimmy, my little brother.” She winced. “He’s three years old.”

  Jared smiled. “He’d be disappointed if you didn’t go with him. I will miss you, Tori, but I can wait for you.”

  “I’ll visit you afterward. I promise.”

  “I’d like that. You can tell me all about it. Halloween was Machin’s favorite holiday. All the lanterns in his workshop glowed brighter that night. Sometimes one or two of them would burn out, never to light again.”

  Tori’s hazel eyes narrowed. “There’s something strange going on at that shop. The lantern you bent light into...was that one that had burned out?”

  “I’d never seen it before. Once a lantern burned out, Machin refused to light it again. He said it was a used casing, a closed door that would no longer open.”

  “That sounds wasteful. What did he do with the lanterns that burned out?”

  A strange look passed over Jared’s face, something Tori wasn’t able to read. “Once the lights went out, they were finished and could be broken. Machin crushed the glass into a powder.”

  “So, you’re telling me these lanterns that couldn’t be opened before they were lit all of a sudden became breakable?”

  “Yes, after their light was gone.”

  Tori shuddered, but it wasn’t from the cold. The warmth and the light that flowed from the lantern was stronger that night than it had ever been. “Do you know whether this happened to anyone else before you—someone who disappeared after bending light into one of Machin’s lanterns?”

  Jared frowned. “Machin was a well-known scientist in more than the field of mechanics. Young men and women from all over the world wanted to train with him—the most talented and the brightest. But his methods of choosing an apprentice were strange. From what I’d heard, he chose his apprentices based on specific criteria and trained them one at a time. Most were broken and in need like me—from families who’d been torn apart.” He absently rubbed a spot on his leg, above his knee. “And with injuries that made them feel less than whole.”

  “So you don’t think he’s done something wrong. Isn’t he the reason for all these missing people? What if he killed them? Has anyone come back to say that they were happy and safe?”

  “No, but his apprentices were desperate for change and hope.”

  “I don’t like it. There’s something sinister going on, and none of it’s helping me figure out how to get you out of here.” Tori lightly tapped the lamp. “Are you at least comfortable in there?”

  Jared shrugged. “I’m not hungry or thirsty. I feel no need to sleep or...” His cheeks tinged. “I have no need to use lavatory facilities. All I feel are thoughts and emotion. I can sense sight and sound; but it’s as if my body is somewhere else.”

  “Are you...happy?”

  “I don’t know, Tori. It’s better than living with Moretta. And as much as I enjoyed working for Machin, I feel less awkward and clumsy. My missing leg doesn’t shame or pain me. But it’s not a life. I’m comfortable, yet I’m trapped with no idea how to get out of here.” He pressed a hand to the glass. “But with you, I’m happy.”

  Tori walked back to her grandmother’s house with her thoughts dazed and swirling with emotion. The lantern’s warmth lingered on her skin, fighting off the night’s chill.

  After saying goodnight to Jared, she’d left feeling fortunate and embarrassed. She’d wanted to tell him about her friends back at home and more about her family. But his situation derailed her. Who cared that she played racquetball in the winter and tennis in the summer, that she loved hiking and candy, and that her mother was usually okay with Tori’s sugar intake as long as she didn’t overdo it and stayed active? All those things seemed meaningless now. Jared wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of those things with her, not in his present state.

  As she felt around inside the nursing bag for the key to the side door, her fingers brushed against a notebook. Oh, shoot! I completely forgot! She pulled the notebook out of the bag, vowing to scribble down everything Jared had told her during her visit—not just for her grandmother, but for herself. For the next morning, to prove it hadn’t been a dream.

  Chapter 11

  One Day before Halloween

  Whether it was more due to the darkness or a general sense of emptiness, something felt wrong long before Tori approached.

  She followed the stream of light that projected from her flashlight. Each step felt as if it led in the right direction. But something was missing: the glow of the lantern. Maybe he hasn’t noticed I’m here yet. The words inside her head sounded hopeful, but she worried they weren’t true. She clenched the flashlight tighter as she turned the familiar bend.

  Leaves and their shadows scattered across the ground. Tori was certain she was in the correct location. She pointed the flashlight at the ground near where she remembered sitting the night before. Light reflected from the base of the lantern’s pole. Raising the flashlight, she traced its beam along the pole. The lantern hung—quiet and still—on a hook.

  Tori’s heart plummeted inside her chest. The lantern was there, but she wasn’t sure whether Jared was with her. There was no light.

  “Jared, are you there?” Grabbing the sides of the globe with her hands, she whispered, “If you’re here, then light up for me. Please.” After several breaths of silence, Tori’s eyes misted with tears.

  With a click and snap, her grandmother’s nursing bag unbuckled. Tori threw open the flap and pulled out the stethoscope. Ear tips found her ears and the chest piece clinked against the globe. All of it felt surreal. Tori moved as if her body was playing a game o
f catch-up with her mind, dazed as if someone else pulled the strings.

  “Jared?”

  Silence followed, deadly and certain. She stared at nothing but a lantern made of metal and glass. People don’t live inside lanterns; they don’t light them up. Tori questioned her imagination—whether her nightly conversations and the lantern that lit only for her were real. Whether she was the butt of her own Halloween prank.

  “No,” she muttered. “I remember everything so clearly. The stories he told me about his life in Havenbrim. They have to be true. I wrote them down and reread my notes ten times this morning. Who makes up stuff like that?”

  She filled the silence with her thoughts. But no one else saw him. I have no proof. Her grandmother’s research had turned up nothing that could explain any of it. As if disappointment and doubt weren’t enough, another emotion broke to the forefront of her being. Loss. Whatever Jared had been, he wasn’t there now, and she had no idea whether she would see him again. Shuddering, she realized she’d taken his presence—his friendship—for granted. She’d assumed he’d always be there each time she returned, locked in his prison of glass.

  But where did he go? Where could he have gone? Back to Havenbrim to Machin’s workshop? Or— Tori noted the darkness of the lantern as beads of cold sweat broke through the pores of her neck and arms. She frantically shined the flashlight on the globe, searching for any sign of him through the mist of condensation.

  “Please don’t be gone. Please don’t have burned out.” Thoughts of smashing the lantern bubbled up inside her mind. If she broke it, then that would mean he was gone; that the light had burned out. But, if she broke it without knowing—

  She stopped, transfixed as the glow of her flashlight lit up a symbol drawn into the condensation. A heart.

  Suddenly calm again, Tori traced her finger over the heart, confirming it was drawn from inside the glass. Blood rose to her cheeks, warming and comforting her, as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and snapped a shot. “I should have thought of this earlier when he was here,” she grumped. “How distracted was I?” Tori checked and rechecked the picture to make sure the heart was there and clearly visible before saving it and shoving the phone back inside her pocket. She knew the photo wouldn’t convince others that he’d left her a message from the other side of the glass. But for now it was enough to assure herself that he’d been there; that she hadn’t made him up, and that her grandmother’s help keeping her nighttime visits secret wasn’t for nothing.

  As much as Tori missed Jared, she knew she wouldn’t be coming back to visit him again. Shoving the notebook aside, she dropped the stethoscope in her grandmother’s nursing bag and wedged her arm through the bag’s handle. Still holding the flashlight in one hand, she grabbed the handle of the lantern and slid it off the pole’s hook.

  “Tomorrow’s Halloween night,” she said softly. “I can’t keep my promise to visit you after trick-or-treating with Kimmy. But I can’t leave you here either.”

  Pointing the flashlight in the direction of her grandmother’s house, Tori turned her back on the clearing and the lantern’s pole. “I’m taking you home with me,” she added as she walked away, carrying the lantern with her through the night.

  Tori locked the door from the inside of her bedroom. In an attempt to hide the lantern, she folded a quilt over its top and gently tucked in the ends before slipping it into a corner between her bed and desk.

  She paused before crawling underneath the cool, crisp sheets. What if he suddenly lights up and it creates a fire hazard? The lantern had never burned hot when she held it on her lap. It had stayed comfortably warm and never too bright. But she was in no mood for a new surprise that would put her family members and her grandmother’s house in danger. Having no idea where her grandmother kept a fire extinguisher, Tori tiptoed out of her room, flashlight in hand. She scanned the walls for cabinets and safe boxes like the ones she’d seen at school. Finding nothing but portraits hung over antique wallpaper, Tori descended the stairs in search of the next best thing she could think of, a large container filled with water.

  Before making the turn into the living room, which looked even more like a cave at night, the beam from the flashlight reflected off a glass object, a vase. The flowers arranged inside were wilted, pink carnations, the petals of which had begun to brown at the edges. Tori wrinkled her nose at the rotting flower stench as she lifted the vase from its pedestal and padded off to the kitchen, where she dropped the flowers in a trash can. After rinsing the vase, she filled it to the brim with water. This will have to do, she thought as she turned back toward the staircase and made her way back up to her room.

  She stepped lightly past the doors to the guest rooms where her parents and Kimmy slept, careful not to wake anyone up. Her room was nearest to her grandmother’s master bedroom. A sound from her parents’ bedroom stiffened her spine—a snore, likely one of her father’s. Tori exhaled, relieved he was in a deep sleep. She wasn’t sure what she’d say if asked to explain why she was wandering the hallways at night with a flashlight and a large vase filled with water. Her parents knew her too well to accept “I was thirsty” as an answer.

  Once she returned to the safety of her room, Tori shut the door with a sigh and set the vase on an end table next to her bed where she could reach it, just in case.

  Exhausted, Tori collapsed on the bed and laid her head back against her pillow. Her lips tugged downward. Still disappointed about not seeing Jared that night, she rolled over on her side and looked at the quilt-covered lantern before powering off the flashlight with a departing click.

  “Goodnight, Jared, wherever you are.”

  Chapter 12

  Halloween

  Laughter and chatter filled the air on a brisk night. Fireflies lit the sky, dancing and twirling beneath a curtain of stars. Weary eyes found it impossible to tell where the stars’ twinkling ended and the fireflies began.

  One by one, rays of light flickered to life, stretching from torches held by a circle of party guests. No sooner would one’s eyes adjust to a new beam before the one next to it made itself known, appearing to the former’s right, and so on, until the circle of light was complete.

  Tori found herself standing in the center of the circle. Funny, she thought, squinting. I don’t remember being invited to a party. She looked down at her dress and smiled. Fabric and lace in soft pastels blossomed from a belt of lollipops cinched around her waist. Her gaze followed the knee-length hem to her legs, covered with tights banded red and white like candy canes sticking out of clumps of mud. She frowned. Instead of dainty ballerina flats, she’d worn her hiking boots.

  Confused as to why she’d forget such an important detail for her costume, Tori ran her fingers through her blue and pink wig. Feeling the weight of a handle pulling against her other hand, she looked down, expecting to see a trick-or-treat bag filled with candy.

  She stared at her hand as a sick feeling washed over her. Instead of a bag, she held a lantern. All of the torches were aimed toward it, making it glow more brightly than she’d ever seen. Trembling, she lifted the lantern away from the converging beams of light. She sucked in a breath as she stared at an unlit globe, empty with darkness.

  “What’s wrong, Tor?”

  Tori’s mouth fell open. “Shawna, what are you doing here?”

  “You invited me, silly. I wanted to check out that lantern you’ve been telling me about.” Shawna’s broad shoulders shrugged forward as she bent to look inside the lantern. “Hmm, not much going on in there tonight.” Silky black sleeves and leggings accentuated the slim outlines of her arms and legs as she straightened up. Brows lifted above gray eyes in a mock accusatory look, which Tori might have taken seriously had it not been for the mini witch hat perched on her head.

  “Great costume,” said Tori. “How come you’re not dressed in your volleyball uniform this year?”

  “I had time to come up with something different while you were away. I wanted to surprise you.”
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br />   Tori squeezed her friend. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m happy to see you.”

  “I brought someone with me.” Shawna smirked. “He’s been waiting a long time to see you.”

  Jared? Is he here? Is that why he’s not inside the lantern? Before Tori could repeat her questions aloud, Shawna playfully shoved someone in front of her, a male dressed in a plum-colored cloak; his regalia sparkled with candies made of silver and gold.

  “Surprise! I hope you don’t mind that I hinted at your costume. You know, so you could match.”

  Tori stared up at the dark-haired prince, his eyes half hidden behind a mask of candied plums and strawberries. He grinned.

  “Jared?”

  The prince’s grin immediately fell away. “No, Tori.”

  She paled, both disappointed and embarrassed when she recognized his voice. “Adam?”

  “Surprise!” Shawna giggled, her face glowing.

  With her heart thudding in her ears, Tori stared at the lantern. Where’s Jared? I was supposed to go trick-or-treating with Kimmy. Where am I?

  As if responding to her question, a glint of light appeared in the center of the globe. It brightened, deeper and warmer until Tori’s eyes burned. She could neither blink nor look away. With a hiss, the condensation clouding her view melted. Steam rose from the globe, misting her hand and evaporating. The lantern dimmed.

  Tori’s bones turned to jelly as the figure of a person took shape inside the lantern. For the briefest moment, her heart embraced a hope. But then her lips tugged downward as the image became clearer, revealing a cherubic face framed with blond curls. “Ha!”

  Her body jolted. Sweat from her palms caused the lantern’s handle to slip underneath her grip. Tori screamed, frozen and unable to unlock her gaze from a pair of eyes that were both bright blue and terrified.

  She looked on helplessly as the lantern fell to the ground. Glass shattered, spraying the air with a thousand diamonds, each bearing the tiniest reflection of her baby brother.