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‘Just try,’ Joan said. ‘Just push the frame through that barrier and hold some of it here and some inside the seal. You’ll make a bridge. It’ll be a portal we can walk through. That’s what Gran must have done.’
‘Joan, there’s no way the Hunt power can break an Ali seal,’ Ruth said. ‘Most Alis couldn’t break this seal. In a thousand of them, maybe one could.’
‘Humour me,’ Joan said. ‘If it doesn’t work, we’ll go back to the boat.’
‘Then we’re going back to the boat,’ Ruth said. She leaned the frame against the barrier. It sat there, seemingly propped up by nothing. ‘See?’
‘You need to hold on to it,’ Joan explained. She went over and gripped the other side to show her. ‘Imagine you’re using the Hunt power to hide the frame right where the barrier is. Put it partly inside the barrier. Just do the Hunt power like you normally would. But when it’s partway gone, don’t let go.’
Ruth stared at her, but she took hold of the frame properly. ‘We are going to have a long talk after this.’ She closed her eyes, though, concentrating. Then she pushed the frame against the barrier. It wobbled at its base, and Joan steadied it. Just like in the other timeline, Ruth said, ‘I really don’t think the Hunt power can do this. I don’t think I can—’ And then her eyes flew open.
Joan heard her own gasp at the same time as Tom’s. The others had identical looks of shock—except for Nick, who leaned in with curious interest.
Inside the frame, the sun shone weakly, from a different angle.
Ruth had made a portal—an opening in the seal.
eighteen
Joan peered through the frame. The sealed-off portion of the room looked just as it had from the outside: the same booths alongside the same big windows. The only difference was the direction of the sun. Inside the seal, soft light shone through the eastern windows. Outside the seal, the sun was on the other side of the room.
Gran’s sigil was clearly visible on the floorboards now, the fox with another symbol: three lines forking in different directions from a single point. It looked like a bird’s claw. Gran’s initials, D.H., were next to it.
‘What does that symbol mean?’ Joan asked Ruth.
Ruth wrinkled her nose. ‘Isn’t that the opportunity symbol? Why would she put that here?’
Who was the message for, then, Joan wondered. The Hunts were thieves, and the opportunity symbol was used to indicate a potential target location. Joan lifted her gaze back to the seal’s opening. ‘What do you think’s inside?’ Despite the opportunity symbol, all she could feel was trepidation.
‘No, I have another question,’ Ruth said to Joan. ‘How the hell did you know the Hunt power could break an Ali seal? You don’t even have the Hunt power anymore. You haven’t had it since we were kids.’
Ruth looked just like Gran sometimes: curly hair and sharp green eyes. ‘It’s such a long story,’ Joan whispered to her.
Ruth searched her face. ‘What happened to you after that attack?’
Joan’s chest felt heavy with all the things she couldn’t say—not with Nick here. ‘That’s not when it happened.’
More questions were in Ruth’s eyes, but Jamie interjected. ‘If we’re going in, we should go in,’ he said. ‘If there’s a seal in here, the Court might be monitoring this place.’ To Ruth, he said, ‘Think you can hold that gate open for a few minutes?’
‘Yeah,’ Ruth said. ‘I mean …’ She dipped her head so that Joan could only see her dark hair. Her shoulders went up and down in a deep breath as if she were assessing how long she could hold a heavy weight.
‘Hey,’ Joan said, feeling uncertain then. The Hunt power isn’t supposed to open gates like this, Ruth had said in the other timeline. She’d been sick with exhaustion after she’d opened the portals. ‘You okay?’
Ruth lifted her head again. Joan could already see the strain around her eyes. ‘I can do it.’
‘Ruth—’
‘I’m fine. I can do it,’ Ruth said. She jerked her chin at the frame. ‘Go on. I want to know what’s in there too.’
‘We’ll be in and out,’ Joan promised Ruth. ‘You won’t have to hold it long.’
‘Okay,’ Ruth said. ‘Good to know.’ The strain was in her voice now too.
Joan didn’t know why she was feeling so reluctant suddenly. Last time Ruth had opened portals, they’d had to cross a Palaeolithic winter; they’d had to cross the void itself. This was nothing in comparison. This was just one step.
Joan faced the frame head on. Then she made herself take that step.
As her foot breached the frame, nausea rolled over her—like seasickness on a boat just starting to rock in bad weather. That was new—she hadn’t felt sick last time, when she’d crossed through the Palaeolithic moat. She took a deep breath and then another one.
