Salem's Revenge Complete Boxed Set (81 page)

Laney

I
don’t eat lunch because it’s slugs again. I let Chloe spoon them into my mouth and then I spit them back out. I wonder what Rhett’s eating, probably something hot and rich that Gertie whipped up. I’d kill for a single spoonful of her famous squirrel stew. Weird how your perspective can change so quickly.

“Not eating this time?” I say to Bil—who, after fainting, woke up when Chloe pinched his nose and tried to shove a slug down his throat. He spits it out at Chloe’s feet.

“My stomach already hurts from the first batch,” he says.

“If you don’t eat, she’ll hurt me,” Chloe says, pleading.

Although I feel bad for the girl, I’m pretty sure us eating slugs isn’t going to help her any. “Then just tell her we ate them,” I say. “Or you can eat them if you’re so keen for someone to eat them.”

“She’ll know,” she says, hot pools filling her eyes. “She always knows.”

I snap the thread of compassion I feel, and say, “You won’t help us, so why should we help you?”

“I—” The girl stops, as if unsure of how to respond. “Because I’m just a little kid?” she says unsurely.

“No you’re not,” I say.

Surprised, she sits down in front of me, resting the pot o’ slugs between her legs. “I’m not?”

“Nuh-uh,” I say. “When the witches attacked, we all grew up in that instant. We all became adults. We all became survivors. You’re a survivor. And surviving isn’t worth a rusty old hubcap if you’re not fighting.”

She seems to absorb every word, her eyes never leaving mine. “But if I grew up when the witches attacked, why am I still so small?”

I groan. Kids and their endless questions. “Are you taller than you were before all this started?” I ask.

“Yes, but—”

“There you go. You grew up.”

She eyes me with the skepticism of a child questioning the existence of Santa Claus when the cookies and milk are gone and her father has a milk mustache and chocolate smile. “But why don’t I have”—she points to my chest and then makes a gesture like round bumps forming—“those. My sister was only fourteen and even she had them.”

I’d be more frustrated if I didn’t notice the way she said her sister
was
only fourteen. I don’t ask her what happened to her sister. I don’t want to know, and I doubt it will help her to dredge up the memory. “Chloe,” I say, my voice low and soothing. “I don’t mean you’ve got the body of an adult. I mean you became an adult up here.” I try to lift my hand to tap my head, but remember that I’m strapped to this godforsaken stalagmite. “In your head,” I explain instead.

“So I’m as smart as an adult?” Chloe says, her lips curling partway up.

I think of all the ridiculously stupid adults I know. “Most definitely,” I say, which pushes Chloe’s lips into a full smile, the first real one I’ve seen on her freckly face. “And as a very wise adult, I know you can help us,” I add, holding my breath.

She chews the side of her mouth, seeming to consider. I don’t exhale until she speaks.

“What do you want me to do?” she asks.

~~~

“I’m surprised you’re so good with kids,” Bil says after Chloe is gone.

“Why?” I say, only realizing after the question escapes my lips that I’m probably setting myself up.

“Because you suck so much with everyone else,” he says, chuckling at his own joke.

“You got me, Bil,” I say. “So freaking funny. I had a nine-year-old sister, remember?”

“Yeah, a nine-year-old going on two-thousand,” he says.

Good point. “Do you think she’ll be able to pull it off?” I ask.

“No.”

“Your optimism is overwhelming.”

“What exactly do I have to be optimistic about? We’re strung up like fresh meat, just waiting for some sadistic panther to chew our toes off one by one; the Shifters are about to annihilate the only friends we have left; and they won’t give us anything to eat except slugs.”

I start to speak, but he’s not finished. “Oh, and not to mention I just found out that my mom had my dad killed, and oh yeah, she was a crazy power-hungry human-hater who was killed by my friend, the one and only Rhett Carter.”

“And you’ve lost your marbles,” I add, unable to help myself.

“There’s that too,” Bil says. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“Chloe’s going to come through,” I say confidently.

“No, she’s not,” Bil says. “You’ve sentenced her to death.”

My head gets very hot. “She’s
already
dead,” I say. “We all are if we don’t do something.”

“Well congratulations,” Bil says,” you’ve done something. You’ve sent a child to try to escape from a fortress guarded by the most dangerous beasts in the world, just so she can wander off to who knows where to try to find help for us.”

“Says the guy who got us into this stinking mess in the first place!” I fire back, straining against the magical bands, wishing I could do more talking with my fists and less with my tongue.

Silence. Bil breathes; I seethe. Bil swallows loudly; I spit—I can still taste the sliminess of the slugs in my mouth.

Finally, Bil says, “Look, I don’t want to argue anymore.”

“Good,” I say, “Because I was about to say I bet my dead magic-born parents could kick your dead magic-born parents’ asses.”

Bil snorts and it seems to break the tension. “Sorry. I forgot that you haven’t exactly had the sweetest ride since Salem’s Revenge either.”

My joints are on fire, having not moved for hours. I desperately wish I could shift positions even the smallest amount, but that’s not a possibility, so I try to ignore the aches. “Who has?”

Bil chuckles. “Did you mean it when you said we’re all dead already?”

I’m about to say “Hell yeah,” but then I take a deep breath and really consider his question. “No,” I say. “But I do know we have to expect more from each other. Chloe might be a little girl, but she’s survived this long, which makes her something special.”

Bil sighs. Says, “Okay.”

“Hey,” I say, transitioning to a different subject. “What happened earlier? I’ve been itching to ask you.”

“I—I’m not sure,” Bil says.

“You said something about a wizard before you decided to take a snooze. You said he was trying to get inside you.”

Bil doesn’t say anything for a long while, and I’m beginning to wonder whether he’s fallen asleep when he says, “I’ve felt it before, when I had the run-in with the Siren.”

“Ellie,” I remember. “She tricked you and made you her slave.”

“Yeah,” Bil says. “But this was the exact opposite to that. The Siren used words filled with syrup and sugar, subtly slipping past my defenses and controlling my mind. I wasn’t ready for her. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a Resistor back then. Whoever this wizard is, he’s very powerful. It felt like a sledgehammer smashing up again my brain, trying to break through my Resistance. It took the last of my strength to keep my walls from breaking.”

I frown. “What do you think he was trying to do?” I ask.

“That’s why I compared it to the Siren,” he says. “Their methods were different, but the aim was the same.”

“He wanted to make you his sex slave?” I joke.

“Ha ha. You wouldn’t be cracking jokes if you’d had this wizard’s fingers in your skull. He wanted to control me.”

All thoughts of humor slink away with their tails between their legs, while a slash of iciness takes their place. The dark wizard, whoever he is, wants to use the Resistor against the Alliance.

~~~

At some point, exhaustion and lack of further conversation thrusts us both to sleep again. I suspect Bil has nightmares of poorly manicured fingers probing through his mind, poking and prodding and squeezing his gray brain matter. Me, I dream of Chloe trying to sneak from the caves, only to be grabbed by razor sharp claws. I wake up to a racing heart and heaving lungs as I try to erase the images of Flora biting off her last few fingers, crunching them like celery sticks.

As my mind catches up to reality and my eyes try to adjust to the hazy darkness, a voice says, “Time to play a little game.”

I practically jump out of my own skin, which only causes the magical bands to cut into my skin, leaving my nerves screaming for relief. I grit my teeth and say, “What? Parcheesi? Sorry, I’m more of a Texas Hold’em girl.”

Flora chuckles deep in her throat. Her gleaming yellow eyes move closer, until I can make out a bowtie of whiskers and a mischievous grin surrounding knife-like fangs.

Bil Nez says, “What the—”

“Ahh, good. Yow’re both awake. We do need three players for this game.”

A shiver of dread runs up my spine, sending the hairs on the back of my neck into a tense salute. Somehow I get the feeling we’re not going to like this game. “You know, Flora, I’m still feeling awfully tired.” I force out an overly dramatic yawn. “A slug-heavy diet must make you sleepy.”

“Liar liar,” Flora says.

“No, really,” I say. “It’s like eating turkey on Thanksgiving. Or like eucalyptus. Have you ever seen a koala after it eats a eucalyptus salad? Those little buggers’ll sleep for ten hours straight.”

“Yowr mouth is big,” Flora says.

“Sticks and stones,” I say. “But anyway, I might be up for a game after my nap…”

A swell of dizziness rolls through me as the ground seems to rise up toward me. I get the distinct thrill of falling and I pitch forward, the magical bands having disappeared in an instant. Unprepared to protect myself, I bash my shoulder on the unforgiving rock floor and groan. Nearby, Bil lets out a similar cry of pain.

And yet the first thought that races through my head has nothing to do with my bruised shoulder:
We’re free!
my inner voice screams. Perhaps Chloe came through for us and brought Rhett, who’s just used his sword to slash through our tethers. Or maybe there’s a traitor in Flora’s inner circle, who finally decided to come to our rescue.

Or not.

“Game on,” Flora growls. “Yow have two minutes. Make them count.”

For a long second I don’t understand what she means, and then it clicks. We’re the game. Bil and me, running for our lives while she gives chase.

“Run, Bil!” I shout, but even as I try to obey my own command and push to my feet, my arms and legs seem to betray me, collapsing under my weight. The hours of immobility have turned them into mush. And then Bil’s there, pulling me to my feet, supporting me as we hobble toward the line of light that must be a way out. Although I know this isn’t the time or the place, all I can think about is how Bil’s never going to let me live this moment down—assuming either of us live at all.

Behind us, Flora’s counting down—“One minute!”—which seems to give strength to my muscles and bones as adrenaline shoots through me. I tear away from Bil, hissing “I’m okay now,” and rushing into the light, which grows with each step. Two more long strides and we’re—

Not out.

It’s a trick. We’re in another part of the caves, much broader and longer and full of boulders and stalagmites rising up like the giant molars and incisors inside the maw of a monstrous beast whose mouth we’ve unfortunately stumbled into. The light comes from slits in the high, smooth, obsidian ceiling, allowing individual thrill-seeking solar rays to bungee jump into the caves.

“Thirty seconds!” Flora growls, and I utter a curse and Bil Nez says, “We’re meat.” He’s back to his pessimistic self.

“Run,” I breathe, and we do, half-sprinting, half-hobbling, skidding on the floor, which is exceptionally smooth like everything in this hellish cave, doing our own version of a three-legged race even without being tied together. Because the light paints a glowing path down the center of the wide corridor, we head to the right for the shadowy cover of the boulders. Rounding one, we come face to face with a black hole in the wall, as if one step inside will transport us to another dimension.

“A tunnel,” Bil whispers, which, of course, is exactly right.

“Zero,” Flora shrieks. “Come out, come out, wherever yow are!”

We don’t have time to discuss the pros and cons of throwing ourselves down an unlit tunnel that might lead to the bowels of hell for all we know. “Inside,” I hiss, extending my arms like a battering ram and pushing into the tunnel.

The impact is like a swarm of wintry sleet raking across my cheek, but with strength behind it. I’m rocked back into Bil’s arms, which, weakened, are unable to handle my weight, collapsing beneath me. We tumble out of the tunnel and skid into the boulder. Bil grunts and I raise a hand to my cheek, my palm coming away streaked with blood.

As I roll off of Bil, a form materializes from the darkness. A leopard, its eyes full of hunger, stalks toward us. We should’ve known that although only three were playing Flora’s deadly game, there would be others involved. The Shifter stops a few feet away and seems to smile. “Good luck,” the leopard says in a surprisingly light and airy female voice.

Using the slick rock as leverage, I pull to my feet and help Bil up after me. Single file, we hustle along the edge of the boulders, half-expecting Flora to tackle me at any moment. More black hole tunnels appear on our right, but we ignore them, confident that they promise more pain than safety. Anyway, darkness isn’t our friend, not when Flora’s heightened feline senses include night vision.