Winter Embers [ Book 2 ]

Chapter One

          As day drifted into day, and the warmth of that final kiss became little more than a cold, distant memory, Claire began to doubt.

          It wasn't something she found herself dwelling on. Truth be told, she was often too busy working to think about any of it at all. Instilled with a new sense of confidence, Claire had picked up dancing with a new fervor and was preparing for her first performance as Alice in a musical interpretation of Alice Through the Looking Glass.

          The irony of playing a girl who traveled to a magical world had not been lost on Claire who smiled every time the thought presented itself to her.

          No, the doubt wasn't something she thought about with any regularity. It was the sort of notion that crept over her slowly, taking days or even weeks before revealing itself, often under the cover of darkness were it slipped with expert ease into those moments between wakefulness and sleep.

          Claire thought of him then, of Alek, of the things she had done, and the wonders she had seen, she thought of it all -- and she doubted.

          How could any of it have possibly been real?

          Naturally, these moments were fleeting and rare, but left Claire feeling alone and anxious.

          Was he thinking about her too?

          In that quiet moment between heartbeats, in that soft silence between breaths, was he thinking about her?

          Of course, Claire always ended up shoving these thoughts to the back of her mind. Sleep would eventually come and, as usual, it would be dreamless. She had only had one dream in the two months since she had woken up in the playhouse dressing room, and in it she had seen the tower again, stark and white against a black, starless sky.

          Claire didn't know what the dream meant, if it meant anything at all, and, like most things related to that place she had left behind, she did her best not to dwell on it.

          There was really only one thing that kept her from letting go entirely, from moving on.

          The music box and it's haunting memory was the only tangible evidence she had that it had really happened, that Alek, and their love, was real.

          She took the music box with her everywhere.

          Even now the weight of it nestled deep in the pocket of her parka brought her unimaginable comfort, as though she had a piece of Alek with her no matter the distance that separated them.

          A cold rush of air jerked Claire from her thoughts just as the hiss of hydraulics, too similar the bursts of steam, sent her heart crawling into her throat.

          She lifted her head and for half a second saw a glimmer of silver and a flash of auburn peeking out from beneath the rim of a sleek, black top hat. The owner was leaning from an open doorway, arm extended, hand reaching out to her.

          "Miss?"

          The scene vanished, swept away like a flurry of snow. The train was replaced by a long, sleek Greyhound bus and the auburn haired figure was in fact a puzzled looking fellow with bits of dark hair jutting every which way from beneath the rim of a driving cap that sat cockeyed on his head.

          "Are you getting on?" he asked anxiously, "Gotta schedule to keep."

          Claire nodded and quickly gathered up her lone suitcase and travel bag.