He reaches the back of the small house. He sees the rickety ladder. He yanks at it, testing its strength. It remains intact. He climbs.
At the top he finds the saddest-looking library he has ever seen. The shelves lean like drunks. A crust of dirt and dust covers everything. He fears breathing mold spores into his lungs.
He brings one arm up and covers his mouth with the fabric of his jacket. He looks around at the disgraceful state of the books. They are so ancient the titles on the spines have faded. The smell of mildew permeates everything. How is he going to find Love in the Time of Cholera in these shambles?
Why that book? he wonders. He read it a long time ago but found it pointless. What is the purpose of being in love with someone who does not return affection? It is a waste of a life.
He pulls out a book. No. Another. No. Discarded books slowly rise next to him like a tower.
Thane goes through the entire bookcase. He moves on to the next and the next until piles of books stack like high-rises on a city block. He wipes his dust-painted hands on his pants.
Metis lied. There is no book.
But why would he? A delay tactic to buy time? But what would he do once Apollina finds out? She would never forgive him. There is not a compassionate bone in her body. She is like Dr. Juvenal Urbino from the book—a rational figure who values order and science. Thane feels a pinprick in his chest. What will happen to Aris?
He touches his cheek—the spot where she hit him. The pain is still there, though the bruise is long gone. She really meant to hurt him. He is no longer angry. He had been. He acted on his anger and led the Interpreter Center and the police to them. That, he cannot take back.
At least he is glad he had contacted Officer Scylla. If he had not, and with Apollina the only one in charge, Aris and Metis would have been erased long ago. No questioning. No due process.
He places the books back on the shelves, being careful with each. At the end, he wishes there were more for him to put away so he would not have to go back to the Interpreter Center. To Aris. He does not know whether he can stand seeing her in misery.
Aris gazes at Metis on the table. He is motionless—as still as a corpse. Her head hurts. There are no bracelets around her wrists anymore, but their latent effects are still in her veins.
She asked the Interpreter to move her to be with him. She wants to see with her own eyes the moment Apollina excises her lover’s dreams. She wants the memory of it to be ingrained in her mind. She needs to remember the hatred she has for the Dreamcatcher and the Interpreter Center for all the cycles to come.
She thinks of the helmet and the vial of Absinthe she hid in the cave. She wants to remember those too so she can go back. Metis told her Absinthe would be useless without dreams to be reawakened. But maybe there is a chance he is wrong. Maybe there is a lockbox inside her brain no one else can get to. Hope is a dangerous thing. But it’s all she has left.
She is aware she is being studied like an organism under a microscope by whoever is on the other side of the dark mirror. She had been on that side before, watching the Dreamcatcher destroy Benja’s dreams.
She looks at Metis. She wonders what he is thinking about. Maybe he is dreaming. Can one dream with eyes wide open? Which dreams will the Dreamcatcher take from him? Will he still be the same Metis? She imagines him like Benja—drained and demented. She knows what will follow.
She shifts her eyes to the copper cloud above. It is empty of images. But soon the images of their lives together will appear. Then the Interpreter will erase them with a push of a button. His memories of her will be irretrievable. It will be as if they had never met. Hers will be next. She begins to implore all the Old World gods she had read about for a miracle.
“Why is Aris in that room?” Thane asks. “Didn’t Officer Scylla say he’s coming back for her?”
“She wants to be there. Makes it easier, since she’ll be next.”
Thane feels his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re going to erase her too?”
“Metis lied to us,” Apollina says.
“Then punish him. What did she do? It’s unfair that she be punished for his crime.”
The Interpreter looks at Professor Jacob. “He doesn’t understand.”
The Professor steps forward and places his hand on Thane’s shoulder.
“It must be done, Thane. She’s a danger. She knows too much. We need to protect the Four Cities.”
Aris? Dangerous?
This is the same girl he has known for almost a whole cycle. The one who needed to hide from the world after every time she had to show the children from the CDL the horror of the Last War. Thane steps back, letting the professor’s hand fall in front of him.
“What if she’s just caught up in this mess without knowing? I know her. She believes in Tabula Rasa. She doesn’t want to destroy the Four Cities.”
“They ran. If they were innocent, why run?” Professor Jacob says. “Let’s not argue this. All that matters is that we have them now, and they won’t be able to harm anyone else anymore.”
Thane looks at Aris. She appears more fragile than he remembers. She is absentmindedly playing with her hair just as she usually does when in deep thought. She is inside her grief. Her sunniness and warmth cast aside. He finds himself affected by her sadness.
Officer Scylla told him
