Page 244 of The Seven Rings
And into a ballroom where cracks had begun to form on the walls.
When Sonya swayed, Trey hooked an arm around her waist. “She’s taking it up a notch.”
“We saw her, she was just coming in.” Owen spoke leaning over, head between his knees as the dogs whined and licked. “A little space, guys. Time?”
“Eight-twenty-three.”
“Weird. That took longer over there than the other two.” He straightened. “Still good?”
“Good enough. We stay here this time at least.” And here where it seemed the floor rocked under her like the deck of a boat in an angry sea.
“For Agatha. We want to see Agatha on her wedding day. We need to go back to the ballroom on that night, before she died. To take what was stolen from her so we can give it back.”
She heard Dobbs’s scream of rage as the chandeliers began to sway. “Please be careful.”
Candlelight filled the ballroom. The music, more refined, drew couples into a waltz. A young Owen Poole, now groom rather than father of the bride, danced with Agatha.
The bride, regal, aloof, looked very pleased. Her wedding ring shot fire.
“He’ll ask her to go sit with Jane, his twin. Pregnant over there.”
“I see her. You holding up?”
“I’ve got to. Pretty queasy now.”
“I hear that.”
As Owen led Agatha toward Jane, Sonya swayed again. “Sorry. Room took a big spin.”
“I can get this one.”
“I have to. You know that.”
She felt more than half drunk as she started over. Her ears rang, and for a second, her vision doubled. Before movement stopped, she reached for the ring.
Agatha jerked as if struck, then froze, eyes wide, lips parted.
“Sorry,” Sonya muttered, and pushed the ring onto her finger.
This time she and Owen hooked arms and, weaving, made it back to the mirror.
“Shit, here we go.”
He went down to his knees when they passed through. Trey managed to catch Sonya before she did the same. “They all fit,” she said as her head spun. “Whatever finger I put them on, they fit. Funny. A little sick.”
“Little’s relative,” Owen managed. “We may need a bucket before this is done.”
“They’re bleeding. The walls are bleeding.”
And the doorbell bonged, fog had begun to creep. A war sounded from the third floor.
“How much time?”
“That might’ve been the longest twenty-one minutes, fifty-six seconds of my life. And you both need to take a few more. You’re sheet pale now.”
“Here. I ran down for these.” Cleo passed Sonya a Coke, knelt to hold the other to Owen.
“Might sick it right back up.”
