Dark Stars by Danielle Rollins (most read books of all time .txt) 📗

It was mad. She was mad for even thinking of it.

The candle that lit her room was burning low. With a sigh, she got up and blew it out. But she only lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her mind spinning.

Three hours. That was how long Dorothy spent trying to fall asleep. But it was no use, she knew it was no use, and so she climbed out of bed and grabbed her cloak. She needed to do something. Anything.

She eased the door to her small room open and peered out into the hallway. Distant voices and nothing else. Being careful to keep the door from creaking behind her, she eased it shut and was off.

Moonlight glimmered off the black water. Dorothy was careful to keep to the back alleys and side docks, her hood pulled low over her face, terrified at every turn that someone might see her. Every boat that passed sent a jitter of fear up her neck, every passerby had her heart racing . . .

All it took was one. One person catching a glimpse of her hair. One person recognizing her cloak, her face. She had to be careful, now more than ever.

After a while, the Fairmont rose up above her, bright and glittering as always. Dorothy slowed as she approached, her breath catching in her throat. It was lovely even in its debilitated state, but Dorothy still remembered the way it had looked when she and Roman had seen it in the future, when all of New Seattle had been destroyed.

Then, it had been a black husk protruding from the ice, a skeleton of the building it once was. She couldn’t help shivering, thinking of it. If things continued as they were now, New Seattle was going to fall to ruin. The Fairmont, along with everything and everyone else this close to the coast, would be destroyed.

“One problem at a time,” she muttered to herself. “You can save the future after you figure out what happened to Ash.”

Shuddering, Dorothy hurried forward, through a back door.

During her time in the Black Cirkus, she’d discovered every secret doorway and staircase inside the Fairmont. She used that knowledge now, sneaking like a shadow into the depths of the hotel and down the back stairs to the door that led to the parking garage. She knew, of course, that there was little chance that the Cirkus would keep the Black Crow unguarded. Even so, she was unprepared for what she saw when she pushed the garage door open.

Spotlights glared from all four corners of the parking garage, lighting the space up like a carnival. Dorothy blinked and took a step backward. It seemed as though the entire Black Cirkus was surrounding the time machine, shouting and catcalling. The din was enough to make her ears ring.

What is happening here?

She pulled her hood low over her face and did her best to blend in with the crowd as she made her way to the center of the room. Luckily, no one seemed to be paying any attention to her.

The Freaks had surrounded the Black Crow, the last time machine in existence. Dorothy watched as one of them separated from the crowd and then turned to face the others, arms lifted overhead in triumph. The crowd cheered.

Dorothy pushed her hood back, just a little. It was Eliza.

Eliza was beautiful, if predators could be beautiful, with eyes like ice, heavy brows, and skin so pale it was nearly white. Dorothy covered her own face with one hand as Eliza strolled past her, climbing up the time machine’s short, retractable staircase and into the cockpit.

And now, Dorothy felt a grin touch her lips. She couldn’t actually be attempting what Dorothy thought she was attempting. . . .

A hush fell over the crowd as Eliza began fumbling with the dials on the control panel. The time machine made a wheezing sort of noise and lurched forward. A plume of smoke erupted from the tail pipe.

The crowd groaned.

Beneath her hood, Dorothy pressed her lips together, stifling a laugh. This was their plan? To try to fly the time machine themselves? Fools. It had taken her the better part of a year to learn, and that was with Roman at her side, slapping her wrist whenever she reached for the wrong lever and pointing out the finer details of the clouds in the anil so that she’d know when to exit. Mac was an idiot if he thought anyone here would manage to so much as get the time machine off the ground.

Eliza remained in the cockpit for several minutes longer. Dorothy couldn’t see what she was doing, but she heard swearing and, soon after, Eliza stomped back into the parking garage, slamming the time machine door behind her.

“It’s impossible!” she shouted, as boos and hisses erupted from the crowd. “There’s some sort of . . . of secret trick to it! I can’t even get the key to turn!”

Try turning it the other way, Dorothy thought, smirking. It was such a small thing, but it had been something that confused her, too, how the key needed to be turned toward her instead of away. Roman told her it had been a little trick of the Professor’s, designed to slow down anyone who might want to take the time machine without permission. There were dozens of similar fail-safes worked into the machine’s design. Dorothy wasn’t even sure she knew them all.

Things couldn’t be going well, if the Cirkus couldn’t even figure out how to turn on the damn thing.

“How hard can this be?” growled a familiar voice, and a cold chill wormed up Dorothy’s spine. She turned.

Mac Murphy separated himself from the crowd, the woman in black drifting, silently, behind him. Dorothy felt her eyes drawn to her, curiosity piqued. This was the closest she’d been to the stranger since first seeing her on the docks. Her fingers twitched, wanting to grab her and throw her hood back so that she might catch a