“Why did you come?”

  “Jo told us to.”

  “Right, but why?”

  She turned back to me, frowning. “Because she said you would help us.”

  “Help you do what?”

  “Destroy the Wall.”

  I snorted. “As if I even care.”

  A second later I was flat on my back. The heel of her shoe had struck me in the chest.

  “I told you to be careful about what you say.”

  “Ow! Geez! What was that for?”

  “That Wall divides us from the other hours. It means that I, we, don’t have any freedom—not like you. You can leave whenever you want. We are trapped here.”

  “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, fly over it or something?”

  She rolled her eyes, turning back to the edge, guiding the Islet once more. “She told us that you would help, but clearly, you don’t know the first thing about anything.”

  “Yeah, well, Jo has said a lot of things.”

  “What do you mean by that?” She shot me a sharp look.

  “Nothing, it’s just, well, she’s sick. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  “You’re lying. She never told us she was sick.”

  Something about the way she said it made me angry, and my face grew hot. “Well, if she wasn’t sick, would she have given me this?” I asked, holding up the ball of energy again for a second before stuffing it back away.

  The girl’s eyes were wide.

  “It’s not possible, but… if Jo gave you the Smoke Ball, then that would mean she couldn’t come see us—”

  I shrieked, distracted by a bug that nearly hit me in the forehead.

  It was long, like a caterpillar, and skinny, like a piece of string—so thin that its body wobbled as it flew. It had many fat little legs dangling from its body and two large black wings that shot from the sides, folding up and down as it hobbled through the air.

  “What is that?”

  Then the bug zoomed straight for the deadly surface of the Mire.

  I looked up at the girl, who didn’t seem worried at all. “That’s a Mirefly. You might want to duck, by the way.”

  “Why?” But seconds later I knew.

  The long fly pierced back up through the ocean. Its body had been lit and was entirely on fire, like the wick of a candle. Its long wings looked shorter and more powerful as they beat through the flames, up into the air.

  The fly shot over my head. I ducked just barely in time and still smelled the sizzle of my flyaway hairs. I patted them down.

  “So, you don’t know what a Mirefly is, or the Mire for that matter, or an Islet, or the Wall, or Eleven,” the girl sneered. “But you’re supposed to save us and you have your own Smoke Ball.”

  “It’s not a Smoke Ball. It’s a watch.”

  “Well, it looks like it’s made of smoke, and that’s what Jo called it. She said it allowed her spirit to enter our world, right?”

  I refused to answer anymore. I was sick of her already. I just shrugged my shoulders instead.

  “I think soon you will become either my favorite or my least favorite person in all of Eleven,” she said.

  It was a strange admission that made my cheeks feel hot.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  I considered lying, but what could it hurt? We were in a dream, after all.

  “I’m Rose.”

  “That’s an awfully bad name. You’re not rosy at all! I’m Fleck.” As she said it, she smiled. The freckles on her cheeks shone brightly under the sun. “Well, not-so-rosy Rose, it appears we’re here.”

  “Where?”

  I glanced around her and saw it. We were headed for a much larger island ahead, an island with a city on it. A circle of clouds hovered above it, the city casting ghostly colors on the bottoms of the clouds. From a distance it was hard to see the people on the island, but it was colorful, loud, and full of movement.

  It looked like a party.

  Then Fleck stepped in front of me, blocking my view.

  “Is that Eleven?”

  She slipped a piece of tile and the nail off her belt. Then she began carving something into it. “Sure is. I don’t think we should travel there together, though. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us. So we’ll split up and meet on land. Jo told you where to go, right? To the cemetery?”

  “Wait, what? How are you going to get to shore? Are you planning to swim through fire?”

  She glanced over at me with a half smile. “You’re not the only powerful one here.” She then looked back down at her tile and finished a few lines.

  Seconds later the center of the tile glowed a light purple. Fleck held it out from her body, watching as a large, gleaming shape poured from it, growing bigger and bigger. I backed away as the shape formed into a small, delicately carved sailboat that bobbed on the Mire. She stepped onto it. The glow subsided, revealing that the boat was made of the same smooth stone as the tile.

  “Okay, that’s pretty cool.”

  She looked almost surprised before she smiled. “Thanks. See you there!” She handled the sails, directing them away from my Islet.

  “Rosemary.”

  I heard a faint voice that seemed to drift down from above me.

  “Rosemary.”

  It was growing stronger, closer. It sounded like it was coming from the city. I turned to look toward it. The colors in the clouds pulsated as the voice grew louder.

  “Rosemary!”

  THE BAD NEWS

  Rosemary! Wake up.”

  My eyes burst open. I was hot and sweating. The warmth seemed to come from something squeezed tightly in my fist. The watch!

  I was lying, curled, on something soft. It’s my bed, I realized, disappointed and relieved at the same time. So it was only a dream.

  I heard Wes’s voice. “Rosemary! Can you hear me?”

  I hurried to the door, my heart thumping.

  I ripped the door open to see Wes on the other side. He had deep circles under his eyes. He was already dressed in a crisp suit, however, his hair slicked back.

  “What is it?”

  He thrust my backpack toward me.

  “Why?”

  “Time for us to go,” he said. He turned and trod with heavy feet down the hall. “Put on your clothes. Meet me in the car.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just before 8:00 a.m.

  “Wait, I—”

  But he was already gone.

  My brain was fuzzy from the dream, and I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. I coughed. My lungs still felt like they were filled with smoke or whatever. That’s weird, I thought as I rushed to brush my teeth and toss my dirty clothes on.

  I threw my stuff into my bag, coming at last to the gold watch. I lifted it carefully.

  Can I really keep it? Jo had given it to me. But she had obviously been really sick when she did, and she had said it was the most important thing she owned. I imagined when she got better again, she would want it back. I should take it to her, just in case. I would ask Wes to take me back to the hospital today so I could visit her again. Maybe she was feeling better already.

  Wes was waiting in the car, his gaze straight ahead. He looked mad, but what had I done? I hopped into the passenger seat. I was too scared to say anything as he pulled the car out of the driveway.

  “What happened in the hospital?” he asked, his voice quiet.

  “Huh?”

  “What did she say to you?”

  “Uh, I told you already. It was just some weird stuff about magic that I didn’t really understand.”

  He sucked air in between his teeth, hissing. I could tell he was annoyed but was trying to hold it in. “No, what else did she say?”

  I felt my heart speeding up. He doesn’t know about the watch, does he?

  “Nothing really, we just talked about art and stuff.”

  He nodded, refusing to look at me. After a long silence I dared to speak. “Actually, I was wondering if I could go back to visit her today and—”

  “She’s gone.”

  “What?”

  “She ran away from the hospital last night. No one knows where she went.” He paused, then continued, “Do you have any idea where she would go?”

  I shook my head. My throat felt like it was closing up. Besides the fantasy world, Jo never talked about wanting to go anywhere.

  I hoped that this was just one of her pranks or something, that she was really fine out there somewhere, but worries nibbled at my stomach. What if she’s not okay? Yesterday she had been really, really sick. Maybe she did need to be in the hospital.

  “Are you taking me home or to Mom’s work?”

  “Neither, I’m taking you to school.”

  “But I thought you already called in my absence for today.”

  “That was before Jo disappeared. Now I have to deal with it, and your mother is at work. Just”—he waved his hand in the air, never looking at me—“explain it to your teacher. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  “But I didn’t do my homework, and my phone’s dead, and I didn’t shower, and I’m wearing the same clothes as—”

  He finally looked at me. I immediately shut up. He seemed really tired.

  “Come on, Rosemary. It’s fine. It’s one day. Can you do this for me?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  We didn’t talk the rest of the drive.

  The air inside the car was thick, and Wes’s mug of coffee, steaming in the cup holder in front of me, smelled stronger than usual. It was like the car had to be filled with something else when it wasn’t filled with talking. But even if I’d wanted to speak, I couldn’t. I was too focused on one thought and the many possibilities that surrounded it:

  What happened to Jo?

  THE NEW KID

  By the time we reached school, the bell was about to ring and students and teachers alike were rushing all over, like a swarm of bees.

  Wes dropped me off out front. I had no intention of going to class—but he waited in the lot watching, so I had to hide in the hallway. Sneaking out without anyone noticing was going to be hard.

  The halls of the school were crowded. Too crowded, and everyone was screaming and running. I just have to get outside and then I can escape.

  “Hey! Grossy Rosey!”

  Ugh. Jeremiah.

  “Don’t ignore me, Grossy!”

  Maybe I could lose him in the crowd. The faster I walked, the closer his voice sounded. I refused to stop.

  “Grossy!” He snatched the loop on the top of my backpack. “Why are you running?”

  Jeremiah stared down at me with a big smile on his face. Teachers thought Jeremiah was a good kid because he was always smiling.

  “Leave me alone.” I yanked against him. He held me harder, so I pulled again. He let go of my backpack at the worst second, and I tumbled forward, falling on my knees.

  Kids stopped for a second to point and whisper at me. I could feel the blush taking over my cheeks.

  “Oops! You shouldn’t have pulled so hard. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  Yes, you did.

  It was like I could feel the blood racing through my veins. Mom said that’s called “adrenaline.” Sometimes when I had too much adrenaline, I just cried. I really didn’t want to cry in front of Jeremiah.

  “Let me help you.” He held a hand out to me as if he were really trying to be helpful.

  I knew better. He would probably pull me up really hard and make my arm hurt, or he’d let go at the last second and I’d fall again. He’d pretend it was an accident.

  Instead, I pushed myself up, refusing to look at him.

  “Why are you ignoring me, Rosey? I just want to ask you about the homework—wait, are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”

  Of course he’d notice. He always paid attention, it seemed like, just so he could find the tiniest things about me to make fun of.

  I’m not sure what I did to make him hate me. I felt like the only reason he picked on me was because I didn’t have any friends who could help me fight back. Well, if my only choices are people like Jeremiah, then maybe I don’t want to have friends.

  “You don’t even change your clothes! Ew, you really are Grossy Rosey.”

  I don’t know if it was because I was too tired from my weird dreams and worrying about Jo, but I got angry, and my stomach was hot, and for once I didn’t want to ignore it. I turned around to face him.

  “Why do you even know what I was wearing yesterday, Jeremiah?”

  His smile dropped.

  “I don’t pay attention to you,” I continued, my voice quivering, “so why do you pay attention to me?”

  A couple of people had stopped to look at us. I could feel my adrenaline rising. I really, really didn’t want to cry, but I felt like I had already gone so far that I couldn’t run away now.

  “I don’t pay attention to you!” he spat at me. “You’re just so gross, it’s hard to ignore you.”

  “Then try harder.” I glared at him before spinning around on my heels. A tiny voice in the back of my head reminded me that it was his birthday today. Then, with a clench in my gut, I realized, And Fallon’s. This would be the first year since kindergarten that I wasn’t invited to her party.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have been so mean to Jeremiah today of all days.

  Of course, he changed my mind.

  “Wait! No! Where are you going? You can’t just say that and then—”

  I felt him snatch the back of my backpack again. I’d probably embarrassed him. That wasn’t smart of me. People do mean things sometimes when they’re embarrassed.

  “Jer!”

  Both our heads turned. It was Fallon. Her long blond hair was tied up in two braids.

  “What are you doing? We’re going to be late to class.”

  She looked at him the whole time, never even acknowledging me. I wondered, maybe if I started dressing more like the popular girls and learned to braid my hair like she did… would she like me again?

  Would it be worth it?

  “You go, I’m busy,” he said to his sister. I felt Jeremiah shake my backpack a bit, sending rumbles all the way through my arms and legs.

  “Whatever, Jer, let’s—”

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  It was the new boy, Alejandro. He was wearing high-tops and a yellow leather jacket. I’d never seen someone wear a yellow leather jacket before. It was kind of cool.

  “We’re talking,” Jeremiah snapped.

  Alejandro raised just one eyebrow at him. “Then why are you holding her backpack?”

  “She fell down!” he sputtered back, letting go of me.

  “Jeremiah!” Fallon pulled on her brother’s hand. “We’re going to be late.”

  As Jeremiah let her drag him to class, he pointed at us. “Why don’t they have to come?”

  “Oh, I’m very sick right now. I have to go to the nurse before I puke on you,” Alejandro said.

  Jeremiah then looked at me.

  “Uh, me too,” I stammered. “I’m going to puke on you too”—it was all I could think to say.

  Before Jeremiah could ask any more questions, Fallon pulled him into the crowd. I could just hear him shout, “Why is she so weird?” before they disappeared.

  But class was almost starting. Now I didn’t have much time to escape.

  “Thanks!” I called over my shoulder to Alejandro before I raced down the hallway, the exit door in sight.

  It wasn’t until I was outside that I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around.

  It was Alejandro.

  “Where are you going now?” he asked.

  “Didn’t you just say you were sick?”

  “Oh, that.” He laughed. “I made that up so that guy would leave us alone.”

  Leave us alone?

  “Then aren’t you going to get in trouble for ditching?”

  Alejandro shrugged. “Aren’t you?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that, and I didn’t want to think about it, so I just kept walking.

  * * *

  Our campus used to be a Catholic school, and there’s an old church in the back that no one likes to go into anymore. Everybody says it’s haunted.

  I love it.

  Sure, it’s kind of dirty and cold, but it almost feels magical. Like it’s an old castle or something. It’s filled with dark but colorful paintings.

  I discovered the church earlier this year when I had no friends to eat lunch with.

  In the church I could paint and look at paintings and hide in the dark corners. Nobody ever found me in there, and I had never shown it to anyone either.

  So why did I take the new kid there?

  Mostly because I had nowhere else to go and he insisted on following me.

  “This,” I said, spinning in the middle of the big stone floor, “is the haunted church.” I said the last word loudly so that it would echo up the tall roof. I heard the tapping of Alejandro’s feet as he approached.

  “What’s it haunted with?”

  We both looked up one long wall, old painted faces staring back. The windows were made of colored glass that shone rainbows on the gray bricks inside.

  “I don’t know,” I responded, looking at him. “Ghosts, probably?”

  He looked back at me. “Neat.”

  “Yeah, neat.”

  “Ooh, what’s that?” he asked, walking toward the opposite corner.

  “Wait, stop—”

  He was walking to the biggest window. Underneath was my easel. Stacked high next to the easel were all of the paintings I’d been working on during lunch.

  “Don’t touch those.”

  But it was too late. He stood in front of the one I’d been working on yesterday at lunch, right before Dad came.

  It was an oil painting of a big ship that Aunt Jo had told me about once. She said that it looked like a castle, but it floated above the water, carried by many flying caterpillars with black wings. They were tied by long strings to the castle.

  Now that I looked at the bugs again, they reminded me strangely of the Mireflies.

  Huh, maybe I dreamed about them because I had been painting them. That made sense.