"You're right about Eric," Tristan concluded. "He needs drug money and he's involved. But I still don't know exactly what he's done for Gregory."
"Eric was searching the gully by the station today," Ivy said.
"He was? Then he took Gregory's threat seriously," Tristan replied, and recounted the argument he had overheard at the party. "I'll watch both of them. In the meantime, you need to get away."
"No," Ivy repeated.
"Yes, as soon as possible."
"No!" This time the voice leaped out of her. Tristan fell silent.
"I'm not leaving," she said, speaking within her mind again. Ivy walked to the window and gazed out at the old and windblown trees that topped the ridge, trees that had become familiar to her in the last six months.
She had watched them change from a spring mist of red buds to dense, green leaves to delicate shapes traced with the gold of the evening sun-the color of autumn. This was her home, this was where the people she loved were. She wasn't going to be chased away. She wasn't going to leave Philip and Suzanne alone with Gregory.
"Suzanne doesn't know anything," Tristan said. "After you left with Will today, I followed her and Gregory.
She's innocent-confused about you and totally hooked on him."
"Totally hooked on Gregory, and you want me to leave her?"
"She doesn't know enough to get herself in trouble," Tristan argued.
"If I run away," Ivy persisted, "how do we know what he'll do? How do we know he won't go after Philip?
Philip may not understand what he saw, but he saw things that night, things that won't make Gregory very happy."
Tristan was silent.
"I can't see you," Ivy said, "but I can guess what kind of a face you're making."
Then she heard him laugh, and she started laughing with him.
"Oh, Tristan, I know you love me and are afraid for me, but I can't leave them. Philip and Suzanne don't know that Gregory's dangerous. They won't be on guard around him."
He didn't reply.
"Are you there?" she asked after a long silence.
"Just thinking," he said.
"Then you're cloaking," she said. "You're keeping your thoughts from me."
Suddenly Ivy was rocked with feelings of love and tenderness. Then intense fear rushed through her, and anger, and wordless despair. She was swimming in a churning sea of emotions, and for a moment she couldn't breathe.
"Maybe I should have lifted just one corner of the cloak," Tristan remarked. "I have to leave you now, Ivy."
"No. Wait. When will I see you again?" she asked. "How will I find you?"
"Well, you don't have to stand on the end of a diving board." Ivy smiled.
"The end of a tree limb will do," he said. "Or the roof of any building three stories or higher."
"What?"
"Just kidding," he said, laughing. "Just call-anytime, anywhere, silently-and I'll hear you. If I don't come, it's because I'm in the middle of something that I can't stop, or I'm in the darkness. I can't control the darkness." He sighed. "I can feel it coming on-I can feel it right now-and I can fight it off for a while. But in the end I fall unconscious. It's how I rest. I guess one day the darkness will be final."
"No!"
"Yes, love," he said softly.
A moment later he was gone.
The emptiness he left inside her was almost unbearable. Without his light, the room fell into blue shadow and Ivy felt lost in the twilight between two worlds. She fought against the doubts that began to creep in.
She hadn't imagined this-Tristan was there, and Tristan would come back again.
She worked through some Bach pieces, playing them mechanically one after another, and had just closed_ her music books when her mother called up to her. Maggie's voice sounded funny, and when Ivy reached the bottom of the steps she saw why.
Maggie was standing in front of Ivy's bureau; the water angel lay shattered at her feet.
"Honey, I'm sorry," her mother said.
Ivy walked over to the bureau and got down on her knees. There were a few large pieces, but the rest of the statue had splintered into small fragments. It could never be repaired.
"Philip must have left it here," Maggie said. "He must have put it too close to the edge. Please don't let this upset you, honey."
"I brought it in here myself, Mom. And it's nothing to get upset about.
Accidents happen," she said, marveling at her own calmness. "Please don't blame yourself."
"But I didn't do it," Maggie replied quickly. "I walked in to call you for dinner and saw it lying here."
Hearing their voices, Philip stuck his head in the door. "Oh, no!" he wailed. "She broke!"
Gregory came into the room behind him. He looked at the statue, then shook his head, glancing over at the bed. "Ella," he said softly.
But Ivy knew who had done it. It was the same person who had shredded Andrew's expensive chair months ago-and it wasn't Ella. She wanted to charge across the room. She wanted to back Gregory against the wall. She wanted to make him admit it in front of the others. But she knew she had to play along. And she would-till she got him to confess that he had broken more things than porcelain angels.
"Tis the Season, Ivy speaking. How can I help you?"
"Did you find out?"
"Suzanne! I told you not to call me at work unless it's an emergency. You know we have a Friday night special," Ivy said, and glanced toward the door, where two customers had just come in. The little shop, filled to the brim with costumes and a hodgepodge of out-of-season items-Easter baskets, squeaking turkeys, and plastic menorahs-always attracted shoppers. Betty, one of the two old sisters who owned the shop, was home sick, and Lillian and Ivy had their hands full.
"This is an emergency," Suzanne insisted. "Did I you find out who Gregory's going out with tonight?"