Neither of them said anything. Nell put her hand out, and Max dumped a small mound of ash there. He gave the same to Susan, Kate, and Jean.
Susan took a pinch from her own hand and rubbed an ashy line down the side of Kate’s jaw.
“You ready?” she asked.
Kate nodded queasily. She looked at the curtain.
“Where will we go when we get out?” she asked hoarsely.
That, too, had been decided in the night.
“Same place we started,” Susan said. “Who knows? Maybe the window will just come back for us.”
It wasn’t a good answer, but Kate accepted it anyway. She sighed. “Okay, me first?”
“You first,” Max told her.
Kate seemed to be counting to herself. After a beat, she took a deep breath, looked swiftly at Susan, and screamed.
“Ah! Ahhhh!”
Susan winced and covered her ears as Kate flung herself across the bed.
A crash sounded on the other side of the house. One, possibly two people had fallen out of bed. A second later, the bedroom door slammed open and Liyla’s parents thundered across the floor and ripped the curtain back.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Liyla’s mother shouted.
Kate writhed on the mattress, wailing in a voice so piercing that the woman drew back and goggled at her. Liyla’s mother’s hair was askew, and the faint bristle that had grown back on her forehead overnight stood on end. Her husband hung over her shoulder, blinking frantically, as Liyla, wearing a yellowed nightshirt, bounced behind them, trying to get a look. She caught sight of Kate and her jaw went slack.
“It’s the change!” Susan yelled at them. “It’s coming back!”
Liyla’s mother wheeled on her. “You said you didn’t remember!”
“It’s coming back to us!” Max shouted. He slapped a hand to his head. “This has happened before! Yes! Yes, it has! If we don’t stop it, she’s going to lose it all!”
Criminations! Susan bit her tongue and shot Max a warning look, but Liyla and her parents were captivated by the drama unfolding in the curtained alcove. Jean chose that moment to throw herself on the floor, raising a cloud of dust and startling a mouse, which shot from under the bed and zipped past them to escape under the curtain. Jean rolled over and passed a hand near her face, leaving a dark line there.
“Ayeeee!” she shrieked. She hugged herself and kicked her feet, rolling across the dirty boards. Liyla’s father jumped back and uttered a couple of unfamiliar curses.
“Look at that one’s face! We’ve got to stop it! How do we stop it?!”
Susan didn’t answer him. She only looked at Nell, who had begun to vibrate. From head to toe, she shook as if she were standing at the epicenter of her own private earthquake. Max knocked her onto the bed beside Kate, where she continued to shake and kick her legs. She threw an arm out and it, too, was streaked with what looked like a coat of grayish hair.
Liyla’s mother seized Susan by the arm and jerked her around.
“He said it’s happened before! But you must have stopped it! How do you stop it?”
Max moaned loudly and bent double, slamming conveniently into Liyla’s father’s knee as he did it. When he looked up, he had a smudge across his eyebrows.
“Two days! That’s what we’ve got!” Susan shouted at them. “Two days and without the procedure, we turn! It’s awful! Please help us stop it!”
She ground her teeth and let her knees buckle. Liyla’s mother, who still had hold of her arm, caught her as she sank to the floor.
“The procedure,” Susan choked out. “That’s what stops it. Only that!”
Procedure had been Max’s suggestion. Susan agreed it sounded appropriately complicated and forbidding. Over the next few minutes, between gasps, strangled cries, and a few well-placed shrieks, Susan got Liyla’s family to understand that the procedure for keeping the change at bay required eye of newt, toe of frog, and wool of bat, plus two large bathtubs, soap, and a good amount of warm water.
Leaving them thrashing, moaning, and blooming gray, Liyla’s parents ran to get the supplies. Liyla bolted the doors behind them. When they’d safely gone, Nell hacked up what sounded like half a lung and begged the girl for water.
“But I can’t leave! Ma says I need to watch you!” she cried.
Max assured her there’d be nothing but a hair ball left of them if she didn’t get some water from the well, and at last she sprinted out the back door, still in her nightshirt.
They didn’t stop running until the dirt road had turned to pavement again and they could move in the shadows of buildings.
Panting, they walked along the sloping curbs, too hot and wishing they’d had breakfast. Already the streets were filling with people, men pushing wagons and occasionally a mule pulling one, its harness clinking along and the carter casually slapping the animal with a thin stick when it paused in the road. There were women, too, hauling baskets or children, hurrying on to wherever people went along these dirty, crowded streets. The five of them kept their heads down, and few people looked their way. Still, following Liyla’s example, they walked in the alleys when they could, despite the stench. Here, the narrow roads were full of the people Liyla had called sleepers, figures sprawled in doorways or against blackened walls, cats and even the occasional rat nosing at them. As they walked past one man, he stirred and groaned, and the children jumped and hurried on. At the end of the alley, Max dug into his pocket and pulled out Liyla’s knife. He ran his hand along the flat side of the blade.
“You actually took it?” Susan asked him, shocked.
He tilted his head to indicate the alley. “How else are we going to get back across this city?” He held the knife up to catch the sun, and it threw a brilliant shaft of light their way. “She needed it for the same thing, didn’t she?”
Susan felt a strange pang
