Page 13 of Edge of Wonder

I gave Julian’s portrait the same treatment, curious to see if something new would reveal itself. What was I missing? I took three steps back, then another.

A frown bent my lips.

Behind Julian was a series of objects on his worktable. They were incredibly realistic, and I recognized the clock parts and the tools, before pausing on two objects in the middle.

One was an intricate brass key with a scalloped design, and the other was a silver chain containing a clock pendant. I leaned closer, my face an inch from the canvas. There was a word etched into the metal ring around the pendant.

My name!

I blinked in surprise and instinctively looked toward the worktable, thinking the objects would still be there after all this time. They weren’t. All that remained were the tools and a coating of dust.

I’d never seen a key like that before, nor the chain, but as I stared at the table, an odd memory surfaced of a time after Julian became ill. His mind had withered and his ramblings became more uncontrolled. His raspy voice filled my mind.

“Key, key, key, without the key, how will we ever restart the time?”

His illness had made him forgetful, and he often left items lying in strange places around the house. I had assumed he’d lost the little tool he used to wind the hands of his clocks, but what if I’d misunderstood? He could have been speaking of an actual key. One linked, along with a necklace, to me.

Unsettled, I flew through the rooms on the first floor, searching every visible nook and cranny. I explored every shelf and poked my head through cabinet doors. There were plenty of odd gadgets and even the long-forgotten skeleton of a small critter, but not a single key or necklace.

I was about to search the second floor when a noise from upstairs made me stop to listen. A heavy object crashed to the ground, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass. The painting forgotten, I closed my eyes and reappeared inside Sebastian’s room.

A lantern had fallen off the bedside table. Sebastian twisted violently in the sheets, his head rocking back and forth on the pillow. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, and I rushed to him, helpless to wake him by any other means than my voice. I shouted his name, but his eyes remained shut, squeezed tight against whatever dreamlike terror held him captive.

“Sebastian, wake up!”

He didn’t respond. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his chest heaved as he tried to suck in air.

I shouted again, and when he didn’t wake, I reacted impulsively by placing both my hands on his chest. He couldn’t have possibly felt my touch, but to my surprise, he relaxed. The tremors left his body, each one fading until a final shiver shook his large frame.

Still caught in the dream, he whispered, “I couldn’t find you.”

“Shh… you were having a nightmare.” I removed my hands and clasped them in my lap.

“No. Don’t go.” He reached into the air, lines of strain marring his face.

Gently, I rested my hand on his shoulder. There was no sensation of touch, yet he settled instantly against the pillow. An almost unrecognizable feeling rushed through me. I felt needed.

Moving slightly, I leaned against the wall, keeping my hand hovering in place. Under my breath, I said a quiet word of thanks to whoever occupied his dreams.

“Sleep well, Sebastian.” I let my eyes drift shut, feigning sleep that would never come. Long minutes passed in comfortable silence, then I heard a whisper that made even a ghost with no beating heart long for one.

“Don’t leave me again, Alice.”

“I won’t.”

I knew he was thinking of a different Alice. The one from his past, but sitting in the dark with my phantom touch keeping him still, I let myself believe he was thinking of me.

After all, a ghost with no memory could be anyone she wanted to be, and for one night, I wanted to be an Alice someone remembered enough to dream about.

An Alice he couldn’t forget.

Chapter 6

Sebastian

I cracked my eyes open and squinted against the harsh sunlight. It took me a moment to remember where I was. Years of travel and my supernatural profession made waking up in weird places a common occurrence. But awareness came rushing back when I spotted Alice sitting near the foot of the bed, an impatient jiggle shaking her foot.

“I thought I told you hovering was creepy.”

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