Free Passion by Lauren Kate

him back.
    “Where are you going?”
    “I have to go.”
    “After her?”
    “Yes.”
    “But you should stay a lit le longer.” Her palm was damp inside his. “The doctors, they al said you need some rest,” she said softly. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I just can’t bear it if you go.”
    Daniel felt horrible. He pressed her smal hand to his heart. “We’l meet again.”
    “No.” She shook her head. “My father said that, and my brother, and then they went to the war and they died. I don’t have anyone left.
    Please don’t go.”
    He couldn’t bear to. But if he ever wanted to find her again, leaving now was his only chance.
    “When the war is over, you and I wil meet again. You’l go to Florence one summer, and when you’re ready, you wil nd me at the Boboli Gardens—”
    “I’l do what?”
    “Right behind the Pit i Palace, at the end of Spider’s Lane, where the hydrangeas bloom. Look for me.”
    “You must be feverish. This is crazy!”
    He nodded. He knew it was. He loathed that there was no alternative to set ing this beautiful, sweet girl on such an ugly course. She had to go to the gardens then, just as Daniel had to go after Lucinda now.
    “I wil be there, waiting for you. Trust in that.”
    When he kissed her forehead, her shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs. Against every instinct, Daniel turned away, darting o to nd an Announcer that could take him back.
    FIVE

    FIVE
    OFF THE STRAIGHT PATH
    HELSTON, ENGLAND • JUNE 18, 1854
    Łuce rocketed into the Announcer like a car speeding out of control.
    She bounced and jostled against its shadowy sides, feeling as if she’d been thrown down a garbage chute. She didn’t know where she was going or what she would nd once she arrived, only that this Announcer seemed narrower and less pliable than the last one, and was l ed by a wet, whipping wind that drove her ever deeper into the dark tunnel.
    Her throat was dry and her body was weary from not having slept in the hospital. With every turn, she felt more lost and unsure.
    What was she doing in this Announcer?
    She closed her eyes and tried to l her mind with thoughts of Daniel: the strong grasp of his hands, the burning intensity of his eyes, the way his whole face changed when she entered a room. The soft comfort of being wrapped in his wings, soaring high, the world and its worries far away.
    How foolish she had been to run! That night in her backyard, stepping through the Announcer had seemed like the right thing to do—the only thing to do. But why? Why had she done it? What stupid idea had made that seem like a smart move? And now she was far away from Daniel, from everyone she cared about, from anyone at al . And it was al her fault.
    “You’re an idiot!” she cried into the dark.
    “Hey, now,” a voice cal ed out. It was raspy and blunt and seemed to come from right beside her. “No need to be insulting!” Luce went rigid. There couldn’t be anyone inside the ut er darkness of her Announcer. Right? She must be hearing things. She pushed forward, faster.
    “Slow down, wil ya?”
    She caught her breath. Whoever it was didn’t sound garbled or distant, like someone was speaking through the shadow. No, someone was in here. With her.
    “Hel o?” she cal ed, swal owing hard.
    No answer.
    The whipping wind in the Announcer grew louder, howling in her ears. She stumbled forward in the dark, more and more afraid, until at last the noise of the air blowing past died out and was replaced by another sound—a staticky roar. Something like waves crashing in the distance.
    No, the sound was too steady to be waves, Luce thought. A waterfal .
    “I said slow down.”
    Luce flinched. The voice was back. Inches from her ear—and keeping pace with her as she ran. This time, it sounded annoyed.
    “You’re not going to learn anything if you keep zipping around like that.”
    “Who are you? What do you want?” she shouted. “Oof!”
    Her cheek col ided with something cold and