Beyond the Far Horizon

1

Ravi clutched the book-­sized frame he’d just stolen to his chest, where he could still feel his heart pounding. He leaned against the door to the room he shared with Vincent and sighed in relief.

The frame was the perfect size to fit in his backpack. The first piece of his backup plan in case this alliance with the Restorationists went sideways.

It had taken him weeks to locate the right frame. Even though Mr. Leo stored them in every nook and cranny of this eccentric, disorganized house, Ravi had needed to be careful. He couldn’t just take a frame that Mr. Leo was likely to reach for in his work. This frame, he was pretty sure, wouldn’t be missed.

The only problem now was he had no idea what painting it belonged to. And no painting meant no escape plan.

It wasn’t that he was trying to leave, exactly. But he’d been prisoner to the Lady—­or Adelaide, as the others called her—­for so long that not having a way out made him claustrophobic. When he’d decided to join Vincent, Georgia, Mr. Leo, and Ms. Arte, he’d thought it would get easier to trust them—­after all, Mr. Leo had been friends with his parents. He even claimed to be Ravi’s godfather. But the Lady had known his parents too . . . and she’d still done terrible things. How could he be sure that he wasn’t just being used? Again. He’d volunteered to help, but there was no way to really know he wasn’t being manipulated now, however much he wanted to trust that he’d found the “good guys.”

Ravi slumped onto his bed and picked up the old Polaroid photo from the bedside table. Mr. Leo had given him the picture of toddler Ravi holding a red-­haired baby Georgia. The old man had probably meant for it to be another thread to attach Ravi to their family, to the Restorationists. The trouble was, Ravi had no memory of that moment. He couldn’t connect the boy in that picture with who he was now: formerly kidnapped, trained to steal and deface art, to use his skills to make one woman wealthy and powerful, the same woman who had betrayed his family and stolen his chance at understanding his own identity.

Which was why he needed an escape plan.

“Whatcha doing?”

Lili was standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was pulled back in pigtails, making her look younger than her seven years.

“When did you learn to be so sneaky?” Ravi said, trying to keep his voice playful while nudging his plunder under a pillow.

Lili giggled. “What’s the frame for?”

Ravi stilled his face to hide his panic. Vincent’s little sister—­who the family had adopted from China—­was the one person in this house Ravi felt like he could trust completely, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t tell someone. Maybe he could make her think it was part of their training.

“It’s a secret,” he whispered. “Close the door.”

Lili shut the door and tiptoed over, a huge grin on her face.

“I have to figure out what painting fits just right in this frame,” he said. “But I can only look at it in this room.”

“Oooh, can I help you?” Lili asked, her eyes hopeful.

“Only if you don’t tell anyone. If you do, we’ll lose the game.” He didn’t think she could really help, but this might just keep her quiet.

“I can do that! I’ll find the painting.” She threw her arms around him. “Thank you for letting me help. No one lets me do anything!”

Ravi let her examine the frame a moment before he folded it into a spare shirt and tucked it into his black backpack. “Just remember, our secret.” He felt bad lying to her, but he didn’t have a choice.

“Right. Oh!” Lili grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door. “I just remembered! Mommy said to tell you she’s ready to go.”

Ravi reluctantly followed. As nice as she was, Lili’s mom, Artemisia—­or Arte, as she liked to be called—­sometimes made him uncomfortable. Ms. Arte was the Lady’s—­Adelaide’s—­identical twin, which meant every time he saw Ms. Arte, he couldn’t help thinking about the woman who’d trained him and forced him to steal for her. It had been a risky decision to betray the Lady and help the Restorationists just a month ago, but learning his parents had actually been Restorationists, too, had helped sway him.

Except it was hard to shake his past when his role within this family—­or organization or whatever—­was to train Ms. Arte to impersonate her sister. With that constant reminder, could anyone really blame him for wanting a backup plan?

Lili continued to pull him down the stairs toward Georgia, Vincent, and . . .

Ravi did a double take.

The woman standing at the bottom wore a satiny blue dress with matching heels, her hair perfectly styled in a French twist. If it weren’t for the warm smile on her crimson lips, Ravi would have sworn he was looking at the Lady.

When he’d begun training Ms. Arte to impersonate her sister, he’d been sure she’d never pull it off. Ms. Arte was timid and maternal, while the Lady was bold and haughty. And when she’d started practicing in heels, Ms. Arte could barely stand without wobbling. But now it was clear that her determination, the acting classes from her college days, and a lifetime of experience with her sister were finally paying off.

“Please, Aunt Arte?” Georgia was begging. “We’ve barely left the house in a month.”

“Yeah, Georgia’s getting rusty on her Navigation,” Vincent added, and Georgia landed a punch on his arm. He winced a little. “And what if you need someone to protect you?”

Ms. Arte smiled. “That’s just the point. The less Traveling any of us do for now, the less risk is involved. And Ravi and I will go the usual way. No need for Navigation—­which, as a Navigator myself, I could handle easily—­nor is there need for an Artist to protect me. But”—­she looked at Vincent—­“I do need you to look after your sister.”

“Okay,” Vincent said with a defeated sigh.