a good straight-arm shove, running-back style. Zach fell out sprawling, spinning, arms and legs extended.
It didn't look like fun. They were trusting to fate. No-to Julian, a much more dangerous proposition. Trusting that when he'd said Jenny's friends could leave, he had meant alive.
And trusting to Grandpa Evenson, Jenny thought, that the rune of containment would contain. Tom reached to take her hand in both of his. The sky was a blaze of rose and gold.
They looked at each other and stepped out that way, together.
They were falling as the sun appeared. In that instant the entire sky around them turned a color Jenny had seen only once before. An unbelievable luminous blue, the color of Julian's eyes.
No matter how often you faint, you never really get used to it. Jenny came to herself slowly. She was lying down, she knew that first. Lying on something cool and very hard.
Mexican paver tiles.
She sat up much too fast and almost fainted again.
The first thing she saw was the Game.
It was sitting in the middle of her mother's solid ponderosa pine coffee table. The white box lid was on the floor beside the table. The rune Uruz was dull as rust.
The Victorian paper house itself was tall and perfect, its printed colors richly glowing in the rosy eastern light. The only difference Jenny could see was that the slips of paper they'd drawn their nightmares on were gone-as were the paper dolls they'd drawn of themselves.
It all looked so innocent, so wholesome, with the Tupperware tub of Joey's crayons sitting beside it.
"Maybe it was all a dream," Michael said hoarsely.
He was on the other side of the table, with Audrey, who was just straightening up. Her glossy auburn hair was windblown into a lion's mane. It made her look quite different, quite-free.
"It wasn't a dream," Dee said with uncharacteristic quietness, uncoiling her long legs and standing. "Summer's gone."
Zach picked himself up and sat on a leather footstool. He said nothing, but rubbed his forehead as if his head hurt.
Jenny looked at Tom.
He was sitting up very slowly, using the table as help. Jenny put a hand under his arm, and he looked a "thank you" at her. He'd changed. Maybe even more than Audrey. He looked battered and sore, and he'd lost his air of always being in control. There was a new expression in his eyes, a sadness that was almost grateful at the same time. Jenny didn't know the word for it.
Maybe something like humility.
"Tommy," she said, worried.
The rakish smile was crooked. Battered as his devilish good looks. "I thought maybe you were really staying with him. To save me-and because
you wanted to. And the thing was, I wouldn't have blamed you. I sort of realized that when he gave you the ring."
Jenny, who had been about to protest, looked at her hand. Any lingering doubts about last night being real were shattered. It was there, shining on her finger.
"I thought definitely you really were staying with him," Audrey said. "You had me convinced you honestly wanted to-and it was all a trick?"
"It was the truth. I was doing it of my own free will, and I did want to stay-long enough to make sure Tom and you guys got out."
"I knew," Dee said.
"It's those brains of yours again," Jenny said, looking straight at her.
"And I always thought you were such a sweet little thing," Michael was musing. "So simple, so honest..."
"I am-when people treat me fairly. When they don't kill my friends. When they don't break their word. I figured he made up the rules of that game, and trickery was a legal move. So I did it."
Audrey persisted. "And you really never felt anything for him? That was all an act?"
"Just call me Sarah Bernhardt," Jenny said.
She hoped that Audrey wouldn't notice she hadn't answered the question.
"Who cares?" Michael said. "We're home. We did it." He looked around at the sunlight flooding in through the sliding glass door, at the ordinary Thornton backyard outside, at the pastel walls of the living room. "I love each and every one of these baskets,"
he said. "I could kiss the tiles we sit on. I could kiss you, Audrey."
"Oh, if you have to," Audrey said, not bothering to fuss with her hair. She leaned forward and so did Michael.
Dee, though, was still looking at Jenny, her night-dark eyes serious. "What about the betrothal?" she said. "The ring? You're supposed to be promised to him now."
"What about it?" Jenny said quietly. "I'm going