Awaken (10 page)

I was also finally able to understand how, after nearly two hundred years of dealing with this, John had lost his grip on his humanity, and why, by the time I’d met him, he’d so often behaved like a brute.

It seemed wiser to take Frank and leave Mr. Liu. Kayla, however, was another matter.

Until she said, as I was shouldering my bag and turning to leave, “You know, I left my car parked at the cemetery after I followed you guys there. If the storm’s gotten as bad as everyone says, you’re going to need a ride.”

I didn’t want to endanger anyone’s life except my own. But considering all the warnings I’d received on my phone — and the fact that John wasn’t around to teleport me anywhere — the offer of free transportation that would keep me dry was too good to pass up.

“Fine,” I said to her. “But you’re staying in the car. You’re the driver, that’s
it
.”

Alex cried out in dismay, even as Kayla let out a happy squeal and began to leap around. Mr. Graves shook his head in disapproval. Reed, still shirtless over at the dining table, raised his hand.

“Excuse me,” he said. “
I
can drive. Why does she get to be your wheelman and I don’t?”

“Because Miss Rivera isn’t dead,” Mr. Graves snapped. “And you are. If you were to leave the Underworld now for any reason other than to reenter your corpse — which I have no doubt is in a mortuary somewhere, either filled with embalming fluid or cremated to ashes — you’ll lose any chance whatsoever at moving on to what awaits you in the afterlife. That is your choice, of course, but you asked earlier what a revenant is. A revenant is what you’ll be if you choose to walk out that door … doomed forevermore to abide here with us in the Underworld. Is that really what you want, young man?”

Reed put his arm down. “Uh, no. I withdraw the question.”

I was zipping up my tote bag, ready to go, when Henry approached me.

“Miss,” he said, tugging on my skirt.

“Forget it, Henry,” I said. “You’re not coming. We need you here, and not just to bring people tea. You’re the only one who knows where anything is, now that John is … away.”

“No,” he said. “Not that. I have something for you.”

I turned and held out my hand, hoping he wasn’t going to present me with a kiss. If he did, I knew I would completely break down. I could not — would not — fail these people.

And yet I had no idea how to save them.

Instead of rising onto his tiptoes to press his lips to my cheek, as I’d feared he might, he pressed a well-worn, smooth piece of wood into my palm.

“What’s this?” I asked, surprised.

“It’s my slingshot,” he said matter-of-factly. “I modified it for you.”

I saw that he had, indeed, tied one of my hair bands between the two wooden prongs.

“Vulcanized rubber is best,” he explained, pulling on it. “I figured since you were a girl, and your fingers aren’t very strong, you’d need something quite a bit stretchier than the rope I normally use. This thing from your hair works like a peach. What you do is, you put your diamond in the pocket here, see” — he demonstrated using a small stone — “stretch it back, and then let go. If you run into anyone who’s possessed by a Fury, just shoot your diamond at ’em. That way you don’t have to get so near them, see? And they can’t hurt you.”

Tears welled in my eyes, but I blinked quickly in order to dash them away before he could notice.

“Henry,” I said. “It’s the most ingenious thing I’ve ever seen.”

I didn’t mention that if I went around shooting my diamond necklace at Furies, I would also have to run around trying to find where it had landed after hitting them. This apparently hadn’t occurred to the boy. While he’d lived in the Underworld for more than a century, he was still mentally only ten or eleven or so.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said, looking pleased.

I tucked the slingshot into my bag, then reached down to ruffle his hair and kiss him on the forehead.

“Thank you,” I said.

Henry’s round cheeks turned pink.

“It was nothing,” he said, and started to turn away, then seemed to have second thoughts and flung his arms around my waist, which was approximately as high as he stood.

“Don’t die,” he said into my stomach.

“I won’t,” I said, hugging him back. It was more difficult than ever to hold back my tears. “You don’t, either.”

“I can’t,” he said, releasing me as abruptly as he’d flung his arms around me. He reached up to scrub angrily at his eyelids, then glanced nervously in the direction of the bed on which John’s body lay. “At least, it’s not
likely
.”

I didn’t follow his gaze. I still couldn’t glance towards the bed without feeling the way I had when I’d fallen into that swimming pool the day I’d died … like icy cold water was filling my lungs.

“Keep it that way,” I said to Henry, and turned towards the bottom of the double staircase, where Frank and Kayla already stood, waiting for me.

“Pierce,” Frank said. “Tell her she isn’t coming.”

“She’s coming,” I said. “We need her car and her driving skills. I don’t have a license. I’m not a very good driver.”

“
I
can drive the bloody car,” Frank said.

“No, you can’t,” Kayla said. “You died before cars were invented.”

“If I can navigate a two-hundred-foot clipper ship through the Florida Straits during a hurricane, I’m fairly certain I can drive an automobile.”

“I am the only one who drives my car,” Kayla said.

Mr. Liu stood alone on the opposite staircase. I could tell from his expression that he wanted to speak to me privately. I crossed the flagstone floor until I reached him. He looked down at me, his expression somber.

“When you first came here,” he said quietly, “you were like a kite flying high in the wind, with no one holding its strings. Only the wind that fueled you was your anger.”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t angry. I was frightened.”

“Maybe a little,” he said. “But mostly you were angry, like the captain. That isn’t a bad thing. That’s why he chose you. You’re very alike. You both feel angry — at what was done to you, and at what you see being done to others. You both need someone holding on to your strings, to keep your anger from taking you so high into the sky, you’re lost forever.”

Tears filled my eyes. This time, I couldn’t stop them. All I could do was hope that if I didn’t speak, they might go away on their own.

“Now that the captain is gone,” Mr. Liu said, “there’s no one to hold on to your strings. You’re going to go wherever the wind — your anger — blows you. You might even blow away from us altogether. The thought has crossed your mind.”

“No.” The word burst from me unbidden, along with a sob. I choked both back. “No,” I said in a calmer voice. “That isn’t true.”

How had he read my mind? And what was this nonsense about my being a kite?

“It is true,” he said. “Until you get control of your own strings, you can help no one. Not the captain. Not us. Not even yourself.”

I reached up to swipe at my tears.

“Mr. Liu,” I said. “Thank you for that. Now I really need to get going —”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not the first to say it to you. Someone else has said it to you before, I think, only in a different way.”

“Mr. Liu,” I said, laughing in disbelief through my tears. “I can guarantee that no one else has ever accused me of being a kite fueled by anger with no one to hold on to my strings.”

“No. But a person who needs to discover herself?”

Children who fail to do well in school can often still be successful in life
— my school counselor’s assurance to my parents, back in Connecticut, suddenly popped into my head —
if they discover something else in which to engage.

Mr. Liu must have read the dawning recognition in my face, since he held out his massive hand. “Here,” he said.

I looked down. “Oh, no,” I said, instantly recognizing what he was giving me. “I can’t take that. John said —”

“You must take it.” Mr. Liu’s voice was unyielding. “It is the string for you to hold on to.”

It was the whip, neatly coiled and attached to one of Mr. Liu’s wide leather belts, through which Mr. Liu had poked a few extra holes so it would accommodate my slimmer waist.

I took the belt from him, shaking my head even as I reached up to put my arms around his burly neck to hug him. “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear, which had multiple silver hoops pierced through it.

He patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. “Remember,” he said. “Don’t let go of your strings.”

My eyes so filled with tears I could hardly see, I nodded, then wrapped the belt around my waist. The last hole fit, but barely. The end of the belt trailed down almost to my knees, so I tucked it back through. I suspected the effect wasn’t going to win me any teen magazine fashion awards.

Then Mr. Graves was back, saying how there was absolutely no reason for us to go to Isla Huesos, as he was fairly certain he had enough yeast left over from his attempts at beer brewing to bake some bread, and if we could only
wait
—

Thunder clapped again, loudly enough to cause even the thick castle walls to tremble.

“No more waiting.” Mr. Liu took me by the arm and began to sweep me up the stairs, saying, in a low voice, “Go now. We’ll hold them off as long as we can —”

“Hold
who
off?” Kayla asked, alarmed, lifting her long skirts as she hurried up the stairs after us. “The Furies? I thought all they wanted was to kill Pierce’s boyfriend.”

Thunder boomed so long, the metal sconces on the walls rattled.

“Clearly that isn’t all they want,” Mr. Liu said. At the top of the stairs, he gave Frank a stern look. “Don’t be late getting back. For your sake, as well as ours.”

Frank adjusted his bag, which tinkled suggestively. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I very much doubt that,” said Mr. Liu.

We reached the open doorway. Standing in front of it was my cousin.

“What if
I’m
the one causing the pestilence?” Alex asked. “Wouldn’t it be better if I came with you? It might draw the Furies away from here.”

“Alex,” I said hotly. “As you once pointed out to me, the whole world doesn’t revolve around you. And I’m pretty sure that’s true of the Underworld, too. But if it’s so important to you to come with us, please, be my guest.”

Mr. Liu might not have been so far off base about me being fueled by anger after all. Because as I said the words
be my guest
, I shoved Alex into the doorway, then followed him through it, figuring whatever happened next, he’d thoroughly deserve.

W
hat the —”

As he stumbled through the doorway, Alex let out a stream of expletives so colorful, I was glad Chloe wasn’t around to overhear it.

Frank seemed to agree. “Kiss your mother with that mouth, mate?” he whispered, lifting a finger to his lips.

It was so dark, however, the gesture was barely visible. Outside, I could hear the steady pounding of rain. The scent of moist earth was heavy in the air.

“I don’t have a mother,” Alex said irritably to Frank. “What
is
this place? Why are you whispering? And what’s this I’m stepping in?” He lifted his shoes in disgust as they made crunching sounds against the material carpeting the stone floor. “Sick, it’s everywhere.”

“Dried poinciana petals,” I whispered. “There’s a huge tree outside.”

I realized I might have overreacted when I shoved him through the door. I hadn’t given him or Kayla much prepping as to what to expect. As a team leader, I kind of sucked.

On the other hand, experience was on my side. The first time I’d passed through this door, the journey had ended with my own body on a gurney in an emergency room.

This time, because none of us was dead, we ended up somewhere else entirely … somewhere I’d also been before. Only that time, I’d had John as my guide.

As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting — Mr. Liu had closed the door on his side, blocking off any glow from the Underworld — I could make out Frank’s silhouette as he went towards the ornate metal gate at the front of the tomb and checked to see if there was anyone around who might notice us creeping forth.

But who’d be out for a stroll in a cemetery in the middle of a hurricane?

Through the small, cross-shaped slits that had been built into the brick walls, I could see that the dark sky was tinged with pink. Frank’s words echoed, once more, through my head.

Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky at morning, sailor take warning
.

The digital numbers on Alex’s waterproof wristwatch read 11:00 p.m. I could see no sign of streetlights on any of the roads surrounding the cemetery.

“The hurricane must have caused a power outage,” I murmured.

Alex was looking around, as was Kayla, but Alex was the more vocal in his complaints.

“What is this place?” he asked again. “A church?” He nearly struck his head on the low ceiling and winced. “For midgets?”

“It’s not a church,” Frank said, before I could figure out a diplomatic response. “But you still might want to show a little respect.”

“Why?” Alex asked. “Did someone die in here? It sure smells like it.”

“You might say that,” Frank replied. “It’s a crypt.”

Kayla said, “No way.” Alex’s response was less polite.

“Yes, it’s a crypt,” I said quickly. No point in glossing over it. “It acts as a portal through which the souls of the departed can enter the land of the dead ….”

That’s how John had explained it to me once, anyway.

“Unless you aren’t dead, of course,” I went on rapidly. “Which we aren’t, so don’t worry. Then the portal opens to the Isla Huesos Cemetery.”

My explanation must not have sounded all that reassuring, since Alex started swearing again.

“Crap,” he said, looking panicky. “You didn’t say this is where we’re going. You didn’t say anything about a cemetery.” He dove to wrap his fingers around the wrought iron gate that barred the way out, poinciana blossoms crunching madly beneath his feet. “Get me out of here.” He shook the bars when they didn’t budge.
“Get me out!”

“Alex,” I said, in what I hoped sounded like a soothing voice. “Come on. There’s nothing here that can hurt you. Truly evil spirits are everywhere
but
graveyards.” This was a conclusion I’d come to through experience … the experience of having been murdered in my own backyard.

Alex threw me a disbelieving look over his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? I got killed in a cemetery, remember?”

“Oh, right,” I said. I’d forgotten Alex’s own experience was quite dissimilar to my own. “Never mind.”

Frank rested a heavy hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Easy, son,” he said, though he probably wasn’t more than a couple of years older — at least in looks — than Alex. “We need to make sure no one’s out there.”

“Of course no one’s out there,” Alex cried. “Look at it. It’s a hurricane! But I’d rather be out there in the rain than standing around in some phantom tollbooth, waiting for the dead to pass through me in order to get to the Underworld … or for someone to kill me
again
. So get me
out
—”

Frank looked at me, his eyebrows raised.

“Alex,” Kayla said, sounding amused. Despite what she’d seen the last time she’d been in the Isla Huesos Cemetery, she was apparently unbothered at being in it again. “That’s not what
The Phantom Tollbooth
is about.”

“Frank,” I said, feeling sorry for Alex. “Help him.”

Frank leaned over to help Alex open the gate.

“Anyway,” Kayla went on. “You were just in the Underworld, surrounded by the undead. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is,” Alex said in a tightly controlled voice, “now I’m back in the cemetery where I died, and I would prefer to exit it as soon as possible, thanks.”

A second later, the gate was open, and Alex burst out of John’s tomb. Once he reached the poinciana tree, he turned to stand beneath it, but even its enormous branches didn’t offer much shelter from the pouring rain.

“If you think about it,” Kayla said, the first to break the silence that followed, “it’s kind of normal for him to have post-traumatic stress, considering what happened last time he was in one of these.” She raised her hand to indicate the crypt. “Except there’s no coffin here. Why is that?”

“There was never a body to put in a coffin,” I said to Kayla. “Up until now. This is John’s tomb.”

Kayla’s eyes widened, then she quickly looked away.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said. My voice sounded equally small.

I couldn’t blame her. It had been hoped that building the crypt would help put John’s spirit to rest. Mr. Smith — the most recently appointed cemetery sexton — had even had a name carved over the door to the tomb:
HAYDEN
.

These things had done nothing to quell its owner’s indomitable spirit, however, which had remained restless … until now.

“You all right?” Frank asked me. I barely heard his voice above the howling of the wind, it was so soft, softer than I’d ever heard it. Soft with concern. Concern for me, a girl he’d hated the day he met me.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, and adjusted my bag so it sat more squarely on my shoulder. “We need to find something to wedge that door open.”

The door either hadn’t been there or hadn’t been particularly noticeable any of the other times I’d been inside the tomb …. No big surprise since it was made of rotting wood and hidden in shadow. I was worried if it didn’t stay open, we’d be locked forever from the Underworld (unless I
really
messed things up and wound up dying again). I didn’t have John’s gift of teleportation. If I did manage to get help for these people, I was going to need a way to deliver it to them (although how I was going to fit a boat through such a small door was a problem I was going to have to deal with later).

“Hang on,” Frank said. “I have just the thing.”

Frank reached down, then pulled a long object from the dead blossoms on the crypt floor. In the darkness I couldn’t tell what it was until I heard the sound of breaking glass as he smashed it against the wall.

“Captain Rob’s Rum,” I said with a sad smile. The brand had been named after John’s abusive, alcoholic father. “How appropriate.”

“Finally, a use for it that won’t give a man a splitting hangover.” Frank wedged the broken neck in the door.

“Are you coming or not?” Alex shouted at us from beneath the poinciana tree.

“We’re coming,” I assured him, and stepped out into the rain.