Page 123 of White Lights
Without thinking, she uses her finger to trace the outline of herself in the parking lot. Dez has no idea if this will work, but she feels the footage of herself pulling away from the background of the scene, from the hot Death Valley night. She holds her breath and drags the cropped clip across Silas’s Lifeline.
Then past it.
Then on to Asher’s.
Gently, the way you’d set a paper boat upon a pond, Dez sets the moving clip of herself onto Asher’s beach.
The clip wobbles, then seems as if it’s about to click into place on Asher’s Lifeline. But before it does, Dez is thrown hard against thefloor. Disoriented, she tries to stand, but the platform is unstable, rocking as if in an earthquake.
“Desdemona?”
The voice comes from within the Lens,within Asher’s Lifeline. Everything about the scene on the beach is just the same as it was a moment before …
Only now Dez has entered the frame. And she is walking toward him.
Inside the Vault, she gasps.
Did she justchangeAsher’s Lifeline?
She’ll undo it. She’ll put herself back where she belongs. She’ll do itin just a moment. After she sees what happens next.
Asherseesher.
Heremembersher. Heknowsher. And when he says her name again, he sounds happy. Surprised, but mostlyhappy.
“Desdemona Rae?”
She watches through his eyes, his point of view, as she walks toward him, glowing like a flare.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, and opens his arms.
“THIS WAY, MS. RAE,” Dr. Ezekiel says, holding open the door to the director’s office on a still February night.
Dez shakes her head. “I’m looking for my roommate. He said to meet him here.” She casts her gaze around the darkened Vault and at the painting of Samael, where Simon suggested they meet. At the sliver of light stretching out from Moriah’s office door.
“You’ve come to the right place,” Dr. Ezekiel says.
She swallows as he beckons her inside. What’s Simon gotten her into now?
She peers inside the small office with its built-in bookshelves, large desk made of glass and chrome, and two green tufted guest chairs. Neither the director nor her white python are anywhere in sight. Dr. Ezekiel gestures to the other side of the room, where a large mirror hangs on the far wall. Warped and tarnished, cracked around the edges, it reminds Dez of the mirror behind the bar in Villains.
Standing before the mirror, next to Dr. Ezekiel, Dez can see outlines of both their reflections. She’s wearing the black slip dress she wore to the gala, dressed down with her Docs and an oversized darkgreen cardigan. But the mirror is too dark to see the details of their faces. So she can’t see Dr. Ezekiel’s expression when the glass begins to morph, to fade, to disappear like smoke into nothing.
“Where did it go?” Dez demands as the smoke clears.
And in its place is a staircase chipped into the stone. Leading steeply, starkly down.
“The mirror will be back when it’s needed again,” Dr. Ezekiel says, handing her a torch.
“What’s down there?”
“Your friend. He’s waiting for you.”
“I’ll just see him back at the suite,” Dez says, and turns to leave.
Dr. Ezekiel shakes his head. “If he asked you to be here, it’s because he wants your support tonight.” He points down the staircase. “Please.”
A chill envelopes Dez as she starts down the stairs alone. The glow of the torch Dr. Ezekiel gave her lights her way just enough to take each next step. The staircase seems to grow increasingly dank, increasingly steep.
