The world turned dark and rushed around me until it came to a jarring stop.
The goggles thumped, sending out the familiar shock wave that pulsed through the mist. Papá appeared next to me.
I gaped at the goggles—Papá’s goggles. It made no sense for them to be out here unless... I swallowed hard. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who came here when missing Mamá.
“What’s wrong with her?” Papá’s face was a mask of concern as he looked down at something in his arms.
No, not something. Someone. The smoke shifted, and a little me appeared in his arms. She appeared to be ten or eleven.
“I don’t know, sir. I found her like this.” A servant materialized from the mist. He wrung his cap in his hands, casting worried glances at me.
I struggled to remember his name—it had been years since we’d had human helpers.
“She was already like this when you found her?” Papá laid Little Me on a couch, the same one that sat in our living room at the front of the house. Goggles dangled from his neck as he leaned over her.
As if in response, the goggles in my hand thumped.
“Yes, sir. Should I call the doc—”
Little Me stirred, then opened her eyes and blinked groggily. “Papá?”
“I’m here, Kyra.” He pulled me into a hug, his voice rough. “Are you all right?”
Little Me straightened and pulled away from him. A wide smile displayed her small teeth splitting her face. “I saw Mamá.”
“You must’ve been dreaming.” He smoothed back my hair.
I blinked back tears at the tender gesture. He hadn’t done that to me since I was a little girl.
“No.” Little Me shook her head. “It wasn’t a dream. I really saw her. She and I were playing upstairs, and she was telling me about our plans to go on a picnic. It was just like last month.”
Last month. That meant I was ten then and this was not long after Mamá’s passing.
Papá straightened like Little Me had shocked him. He turned to face the servant. “You may go, Percy. I’ll take it from here.” His voice was suddenly deeper, but it didn’t hide the slight tremble in it.
Percy opened his mouth as if to object, then took one look at Papá’s worried squint and the tight lines of his mouth and simply bobbed his head. “As ye wish, sir.”
The goggles thumped again, almost in time with the click of the door that closed behind Percy.
Little Me still smiled happily, staring off into the distance while she relived the memory. With Papá’s back to her, she couldn’t see the worry tightening his expression or notice the tension radiating from him. But from my position in the mist, I could see it clearly.
Somehow, Papá knew I’d Slipped before I’d even explained it to him. But that made no sense. I was the only one with this ability; he’d told me that for years.
Papá drew in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly before turning to kneel next to me. “Has this happened before, Kyra?”
I shifted around so I had a better view of both their faces as Little Me said, “Yes.”
He pursed his lips. “When did it happen the first time?”
Little Me scrunched up her face in thought. “A week after Mamá died.” Her voice trembled. “I went up to her tower.”
I smiled at the memory of how I’d used to call Mamá’s garden her tower, even as the reminder of my fresh pain tugged at my heart.
The goggles thumped twice. I was running out of time, but I had so many questions still.
“—and when I touched her telescope, suddenly I could see her showing me how to use it for the first time after you gave it to her.” Little Me sat up and swung her legs over the side of the sofa. “At first it was scary because I didn’t know what was going on, but once I realized whatever it was helped me see Mamá, I’ve been going around touching lots of things. It isn’t so bad once you get used to it, and it makes me miss Mamá less.”
Papá took Little Me’s small shoulders in his hands. “You can’t do that again, Kyra.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she rubbed at her chest over her heart. “But it helps it not hurt so much.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“I know.” Papá pulled her into a hug. Anguish lined his face, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I miss her too, but you have to promise me you’ll stop with this. Slipping is too dangerous.”
“Slipping?” Little Me asked before a stream of questions bubbled from her. “Is that what you call it? Can other people do it? Can you? Why can I? Why is it dangerous?”
Papá smiled gently, but now that I was older, I could see the conflict raging in his expression. “I can’t do it, but it’s very dangerous, and I don’t want you to do it again. No one can find out about this.” He stiffened. “Have you told anyone else?”
Little Me blinked, and a tear trailed down her cheek. “No, Papá.”
“Good.” He wiped the tear away. “Promise me you won’t Slip anymore and that you won’t tell anyone. It’s a curse, Kyra, and I need your help to keep you safe.”
“A curse?” she whispered. At his nod, she sniffled. “I promise, but I don’t—”
The past faded around me, dissolving like steam clearing from the air.
I closed my eyes as I returned to my body, my head whirling with revelations. Papá knew more about Slipping than he’d ever let on. As a child, I’d taken his vague answers as absolutes. Even as I grew up, his claims had morphed into something so matter-of-fact I hadn’t considered it again until this memory reminded me of the pieces missing from Papá’s story. While I’d been hoping for a memory of Mamá, this brought up more questions I hadn’t realized I needed to be asking.
Could Papá Slip too? I dismissed that thought as quickly as it came. He hardly wore gloves, and I’d never seen him demonstrate any of the signs of Slipping. But clearly, he knew something for him to have immediately called it that. Despite his insistence that I was the only one in the city with this ability, there had to be someone who’d told him about it. Maybe I’d gotten my ability from Mamá? But that didn’t make sense, since I had no memory of her constantly wearing gloves or suddenly becoming unresponsive.
With a sigh, I turned away from the goggles—which had provided some answers, but not the ones I’d expected—and retreated down the series of zigzagging stairs that led the way to the ground level. I’d lost time while Slipping and needed to get back to Papá and Desmarc.
The day from that memory marked the beginning of a series of changes in my life. Papá got me gloves—another sign that he knew what was going on—and insisted I wear them everywhere. Just a few weeks later, he replaced all our workers with the server bots. And just a few months after that, he started training me with my knives. If he thought Slipping was dangerous, that could be the real reason behind those lessons. Not that that made much sense either, since my knives were useless in the past.