In Dreams (19 page)

“But she’s been visiting you in her sleep all these years.”

“I unfairly drew her to me. I couldn’t bear eternity without her. But as my child, I thought it was best to ensure you remained in this mortal world. Believe me, Iris. You must believe, my child, that if I could have been here with you, I would have been. Your safety was my number-one concern. Your happiness—and hers—are all I care about.”

“So get her back,” I whisper.

“I don’t know where he’s taken her, and the Underworld is falling into a state of anarchy. Epiales is amassing armies . . . and allies.”

“I don’t understand what he wants.”

“Neither do I.”

“So what do we do?” I ask.

He smiles. He lifts my hands to his cheek. Then he kisses the backs of my hands. “My precious, precious baby girl,
we
do not do anything. You leave this to me. I
will
get your mother back.”

I want to believe him. But I have seen what Epiales can do. I hate thinking of what he might be doing to my mother and Grandpa. Maybe Sebastian. Right now.

“Is Sebastian all right?” I ask him. “He . . . pushed me through the door from your world to this one, and I know they attacked him.”

Morpheus’s face grows impassive.

“What?” I ask.

“Sebastian is missing. Unaccounted for.”

“What?” I can’t swallow. The room feels hot. It seems like just a short while ago I thought I’d freeze.

“I’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

Dr. Koios says, “Is Hades aware of all that is occurring?”

“I plan to go see him.”

“You haven’t gone to him yet?” Aphrodite says. “My god, I have him and Zeus on my speed dial.”

“Really?” Annie asks.

“Of course not.” Aphrodite laughs lightly. “Come on. Let’s sit down and eat. Pastries help me think better.”

Food may help Aphrodite, but I know I can’t eat.

The five of us stand and start toward the kitchen. I can’t believe I’m going to sit and share a table with my father. It feels more like a dream than reality. But I pinch the top of my hand, and I know this is real. Though maybe I don’t know anything about what’s truly real anymore. Now if only the rest of my family—and Sebastian—were here.

They are all ahead of me when I feel the most sickening pain my stomach, a pain like I’ve never felt before. It’s a sharp stabbing, like being gutted by a knife, followed by a burning throb. It’s agony. I double over, and all the blood drains from my face.

I can’t help it—I groan involuntarily.

Annie wheels around. She runs and kneels in front of me. “My God, Iris, what is it?”

I can’t speak. I can’t breathe. I clutch my stomach and moan, tears streaming down my face, and I don’t even care who sees me cry.

“Annie,” I manage to breathe out. “Help me.” It has to be my appendix. Bursting. I hurt so bad, I think I want to die. That anything would be preferable to this pain.

Aphrodite shrieks. “I don’t know how to drive. Koi, bring your car around—we’ll take her to the hospital.”

She comes over to me and puts her hand on my forehead. “She’s burning up. My god . . . Morpheus.” She looks to my father. His face is disbelieving, and he comes to me and literally lifts me and holds me in his arms like a small child.

I can’t understand how I got so sick so fast. Something is really wrong with me. I try to talk. But the pain is so bad, I feel myself passing out, my vision narrowing to two tiny pinpoints.

The last words I hear are “Forget the car, Koi. Call nine-one-one.”

And then nothing.

16

Dreams are stories made by and for the dreamer, and each dreamer has his own folds to open and knots to untie.

SIRI HUSTVEDT

I
wake in a white-sheeted hospital bed, my hair matted against an uncomfortable pillow. The pain has been replaced by a drug-induced haze. But despite pain medication, my stomach is still throbbing its discomfort, occasionally a real spasm of torturous agony. I can tell by my drenched sheets that the fever remains.

Morpheus and Aunt Aphrodite are here. For the first time, Aphrodite looks a mess. Her eyes are swollen from crying. She’s knotting a tissue in her hands. I try to look around, but everything is foggy, like seeing through a mist. I lift my left hand and see an IV taped in place. Machines are beeping. Plastic bags of medicine and fluids hang from poles around
me, like silent sentinels, a half-dozen things being pumped into me.

“What’s wrong with me?” I ask. My voice is raspy. I want my toothbrush.

Aphrodite starts weeping softly. “The doctors aren’t sure. They’re bringing in a couple of specialists tonight. They’re running tests.”

A doctor and a nurse walk in. The doctor is wheeling a gunmetal gray cart with a laptop on it. She says hello to me, a thin blond woman with a sleek, professional bob and pale-green-rimmed glasses.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“You gave us quite a fright last night, Iris.”

“Do you know anything yet, Doctor?” my father asks.

“Her results are very . . . confusing. Her white counts are as high as numbers we would see in someone with leukemia, but other blood results that I would expect to be elevated aren’t, and those I would expect to be low are high. In other words, your daughter is very sick, but we don’t know, right now, from what. Her spleen is very enlarged. I’m a bit concerned that we might need to remove it surgically.”

“And my appendix?” I ask.

“Fine. Sometimes we can’t see it clearly on an
ultrasound, but we were lucky with you. Perfectly healthy. As is your gallbladder. So those’re two things ruled out for right now. A spot of good news in all this. I’ve asked your parents here if you’ve traveled overseas recently.”

I realize she thinks Aphrodite is my mother. I shake my head weakly. I don’t think the Underworld counts as overseas.

“We’ve checked with your school—closed for the holidays, but the superintendent called back. No infectious disease outbreaks. No exposures to heavy metals. Apparently”—she smiles—“you eat a lot of takeout.”

I nod, wondering what that has to do with this.

“We’ve checked all those restaurants. No hepatitis outbreaks. Nothing. And the suddenness. That’s quite concerning. You are very much a mystery, which I am sure you don’t want to hear with a one-hundred-four-degree fever that I’m positive is making you feel awful. We haven’t been able to get that down. Last night you spiked one hundred five point two.”

My teeth chatter from my fever. As if I didn’t already know, I am realizing how very sick I am.

“We’ve started a strong antibiotic, an antinausea medicine, and we’re treating your pain with
morphine and Dilaudid. That’s another reason you feel so woozy and out of it. Because of that, if you have to get up to use the bathroom, you need to call for your nurse. We don’t want you to fall.”

The doctor comes over to my bedside. “Mind if I give a listen?”

“Sure.”

She presses a stethoscope to my belly and then my chest. She asks me to sit up. I try, and it sends shooting pains through my abdomen and up my spine to the base of my skull. I cry out.

“Don’t!” Aphrodite exclaims. “I can’t stand to see her suffer like this. Let her rest.”

The doctor smiles compassionately at my aunt. “I’ll try to keep her as comfortable as possible. I know this is very upsetting.”

My heart is pounding. The nurse, a strawberry-blonde with freckles, takes my blood pressure.

“It’s one ninety-five over one forty.”

Looking at the nurse, my doctor, whose badge reads
B. BINGHAM, M.D
., says, “Gladys, I think we’re going to change her pain meds around, see if we can’t get better pain control. I’m sure the pain and fever are elevating her blood pressure. Give her the pain medication every three hours now instead of four.
We may end up putting her on a pump.”

The doctor walks to the laptop and punches some keys. She pushes her glasses down to the end of her nose and appears to be studying something on the screen.

“We’ll be drawing some more blood later. We’re like vampires around here.” She smiles, but all I can think of are the Keres. How anyone can think vampires are sexy is beyond me.

The doctor and the nurse leave. Morpheus’s face is intense. Like Aphrodite, his eyes flash alive. I swear I see lightning. Clouds gather on the surface of his irises. They are mesmerizing.

“I don’t think these doctors will be able to help you,” Morpheus says.

“Why?”

“If Sebastian is missing, I can think of only one thing to torment him with.”

He looks down at me. “You.”

I feel as if I’m going to die.

The nurse comes back in holding a syringe. “I have your pain medication here.”

Morpheus blinks, and his eyes return to normal.

“We’re going to go into the hallway to talk,” Aphrodite murmurs. “Annie is here in the visitors’
lounge. I’ll send her in for a few minutes, but not too long, sweetie. You need your rest. Nico will be driving up to Nyack later. There was no keeping him away, given this crisis. He refuses to listen to reason.”

I smile weakly. Nico seems like a really good guy, and I love Aphrodite so much, it’s what she deserves.

Aphrodite points to my IV bag. “For now,
that’s
the only ‘food’ you’re getting. You can’t have anything to eat or drink until they figure out what’s wrong with your stomach, but once you can, Nico will bring us every pastry he makes, my darling.”

The nurse says softly, “This is your pain medication.” She inserts the syringe into my IV. I feel a warmth and then a huge woozy rush. I see double and then feel as if I’m floating on air. I feel kind of happy. And kind of nauseous. And kind of stupid. I can’t think. My father kisses me.

“I love you, Iris,” he whispers.

“I love you, too . . . Morpheus.” I can’t bring myself to use the D-word yet. But it’s progress.

Aphrodite kisses me. She strokes my hair. “Your father will watch over you tonight, right in that chair. I’m going to go home to shower and change. When I come back, I’ll bring a brush and pretty pajamas and your toothbrush . . . and your iPod. And phone. And chargers. Anything else?”

“Feed Puck.”

“The cat?”

I nod. “His food is”—my voice drifts off as I slip into a doze. When my head bobs to the side, it wakes me up, and I add—“under the sink in the kitchen.”

They leave. My father looks back and says, “I’ll be right outside your door.”

Annie comes in—with Henry Wu. I can’t believe I’m letting him see me like this. My hair on a
good
day after sleeping on it looks like a fright wig. But I’m so medicated I kind of don’t care how he sees me. Besides, he’s so gaga for Annie, I don’t know that he even cares.

She leans down to kiss me. “You scared the crap out of me. You seem to be doing a lot of that lately.”

“Sorry.” The medication makes me feel as if I can’t talk, but at least the throbbing in my belly is a little better, this tiny bit of relief.

“Sorry you’re so sick, Iris,” Henry whispers. He looks concerned. I also notice he’s holding Annie’s hand.

“Something you two want to tell me?” I mumble.

They exchange looks. Annie flushes. “I texted him that you were sick. And he came right to the hospital instead of answering me.”

“How long have I been here?”

“A whole night. And it’s almost five o’clock, Monday.”

“What?” I hear the panic in my own voice. I try to sit up, but agony sets in again.

“Lie there, Iris. I’m ordering you.”

“You should rest,” Henry says. He looks awkward, like he doesn’t know what to say. Then he offers, “Report cards were mailed. I promise that when you get out, I’ll tutor you in trig, and next semester you’ll ace the class.”

“Thanks,” I say. If only Henry knew that trig is the least of my worries. Life is so strange. It once was my biggest worry—that and insomnia and my mom. And now it’s
way
far down on my list. Survival has moved to the top.

“Henry and I need to go. Aphrodite says you have to rest. Doctor’s orders. She promised to call me if there is any change. My parents will probably come during visiting hours tomorrow. My mom and dad are worried
sick
about you. They said if you need anything . . .”