Giving up on the strange clock, I turned to the shelves, which were littered with items such as a few blueprints and other mechanical knickknacks. Any of these could be links to Mamá—objects filled with her memories and links for me to get to know her better. Now wasn’t the time to touch them and try to Slip. That would take too long, and I had to get back to Papá.
I traced a finger over the things on the shelf one last time. I’d come back later. Now that I had the key and knew the location I could come whenever I wanted. But for now, I didn’t have time to waste down here.
As I turned to go, a small silver ring on a shelf caught my eye. The elaborate design appeared almost like a shield with swirls and shapes worked into it with a diamond in the center. Something about it called to me. But if I wore it, surely Papá would know that I’d been in this vault. If I was going to take it—and the way my hand was already unconsciously reaching for it told me I wanted to—I’d have to wear it under my glove. It was like I could feel Mamá telling me she wanted me to have it.
I pulled off my left glove and reached for it with a trembling finger.
Blue sparked from the contact, and the world around me dissolved into black.
After everything stopped spinning, I sucked in a bracing breath, then looked at my dark surroundings. In my hand, the ring pulsed once in a gentle warning.
Mamá appeared through the black mist, her white dress making her look like an angel. She smiled and bent down, then scooped a smaller version of me into her arms.
I stepped closer, inhaling Mamá’s soft rose perfume. The ring thumped, warning me this memory was going to be short.
“Papá is s-s-so mean,” Little Me cried and buried her face against Mamá’s neck. I appeared to be about six years old.
Mamá laughed softly and patted her head. “Oh, dearest. He isn’t saying no to be mean; he’s saying it because he loves you.”
Instead of responding, Little Me burrowed deeper against Mamá, rubbing a hand down her soft velvet sleeve.
The ring thumped again, and I stared at Mamá’s face, absorbing every detail.
Mamá looked over her shoulder and gave someone a rueful grin. “Did you hear that? Apparently, you’re mean because you said no.”
“All I did was tell her not to play with your ring.” Papá materialized, still wearing a top hat with a pair of goggles. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes she’s far too much like you.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Mamá, still running a hand up and down my back, raised one eyebrow at him.
He came over and kissed the top of her head and wrapped an arm around them both, then slipped Mamá’s ring onto her finger. “It means that I have no way to win. You two are my greatest weakness.”
“Good answer.” Mamá tilted her head back and kissed him, then rested her cheek against my head. “Besides, the ring will be hers one day anyway.” She started to hum the old lullaby as Papá walked back into the darkness, and Little Me stopped crying to listen.
The thumping grew faster, more urgent.
“Dearheart, right now you need to listen to Papá and me because we want what’s best for you.” Mamá put Little Me down and looked her in the eyes. “As you grow up, listen to those who love you, but never let anyone change who you are. You can only give up so much of yourself before you start resenting those around you.”
Little Me stared up at her with wide eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“You will one day.” Mamá gave me a soft smile.
The ring pulsed like an overactive heart, and I cursed the shortness of the memory.
“For now,” Mamá said, “just remember that my love for you is more reliable than...”
“The Steam,” the little voice piped in dutifully.
“It’s more powerful than...”
“The aether.”
“And it’s brighter than...”
“The sun.”
Mamá kissed her head. “That’s my girl.”
My throat closed up as Mamá’s words rushed back. She used to say that to me every day. It had been our thing, and yet, somehow, I’d forgotten. Time had stolen my memories, but this ring had given one back.
With one final resonating thump, the world dissolved, and I came back to my body. I blinked and stared down at Mamá’s ring. How different would my life have been had I had Mamá here as well as Papá? Someone to soften his edges and be on my side. Someone who might’ve encouraged me to practice Slipping instead of urging me to be afraid of it. Someone to keep me company on the long nights Papá worked and helped us navigate the fights that had driven us apart.
Mamá’s words echoed in my head.
Don’t let anyone try to change who you are.
For years I’d let Papá tell me what to do. Even the things I did for myself I did in secret, but I couldn’t let Papá, or anyone else, dictate my choices anymore. This marriage to Desmarc was no more than me running from one cage to another—even if the second cage had more space. I had to live for myself.
That didn’t mean I had to cancel my engagement with Desmarc. I’d grown to care for him, and I still wished to get married. But I did need to learn to be more honest with him and get him to be more honest with me.
It was freeing knowing that Mamá had expected me to make my own mistakes. That’s where she and Papá differed. She would’ve been there to help me through the hard things, but all Papá wanted to do was protect me from them. But really, he’d just kept me from living my life in the eleven years since Mamá’s death.
Her words shattered the restraints holding me back. With Mamá’s permission—not just her permission, but her encouragement—I was going to find out who Kyra Annandale truly was.
I slid the ring onto the middle finger of my left hand and admired the way it glowed as if with some sort of inner light. I glanced around the vault regretfully and pulled my glove back on. It was hard to tell how much time Slipping had cost me, and with Papá waiting on me, I couldn’t afford any more delays.
But I would be back.