The Eighth Day (28 page)

“But I didn't tell you about the Donovans, and they brought in Balin.”

“You didn't know what was at stake,” Riley said. “I kept you in the dark too long. That's on me.”

Jax couldn't stand up a second longer. He dropped down on the step beside Riley and propped his head in his hands.

“You weren't going to be around for very long,” Riley went on. “I didn't want you to know too much. And . . . I didn't want to end up liking you.”

“Well, I didn't want to like you either,” Jax muttered.

“We can't go back to that house,” Riley said. “Melinda's going to get our stuff out of it, and then I have to take Evangeline somewhere else.”

“Is Melinda's family really all right?” Jax asked.

“They lost their house, but they're safe.” Riley sighed. “Melinda wants out. She asked me to release her from her vow. And it's the right thing to do. She's not cut out for this kind of life.”

Jax tried to imagine Melinda on the pyramid with them and nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no hard feelings involved. Just the end of a certain kind of relationship. But I wanted you to know it was possible—to be released.”

Jax lifted his head.

“You're really too young for this kind of oath,” Riley said. “Even someone born into a clan doesn't pledge their
loyalty until they're sixteen. And—the Balin gang aside—it's almost unheard of for Transitioners to swear to Kin.”

“But—”

“Your father didn't want this,” Riley interrupted him. “He was pretty specific. He didn't think you'd transition at all, but if you did, I was to give you the most basic training possible and send you back to your cousins. He didn't want you being a vassal—not to me, not to anyone.”

Jax frowned.
Dad wanted me ignorant and isolated and only partly trained
. “Why?” he asked. His voice almost broke on it.

“I don't know,” Riley admitted.

With a sickening feeling, Jax realized he'd probably never know.

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THEY WERE LATE
getting to the top of the pyramid because Jax's leg cramped halfway up.
I hate pyramids
, he thought, limping behind Riley.
Never. Climbing. One. Again
.

By the time they reached the summit, Evangeline was already there in that ruined white dress, still holding Riley's dagger, looking lost and alone. Then, she spotted them mounting the final hill, and her face lit up. Her eyes darted to Riley first, but it was Jax she threw her arms around, nearly knocking him over.

“Are you all right?” she asked, hugging him tightly.

“You asked me that last week, too,” he reminded her. “I'm fine. But holy crap, Evangeline, look at you.” He let go of her and looked her up and down. She was still bleeding from the cuts Wylit had made on her arms. Eight days later, and it had been no time at all for her.

Good thing they'd come prepared. While Riley bound up her arms in gauze, Jax handed her a plastic water bottle.
“Drink,” he said. “You're probably dehydrated.”

Evangeline drained the whole bottle without stopping and looked like she wanted another. Riley tied off the bandages. She eyed him sideways, shyly. “Do you want . . .” She held his dagger out on her open palm, but her gaze fell to his waist, where he wore Excalibur now.

“No, I wasn't going to ask for it back,” Riley said quietly.

That was his backward way of offering it as a gift, and Jax held his breath waiting to see if she'd accept. Niviane had given Excalibur to Arthur as a symbol of their alliance, and if Evangeline accepted Riley's blade, Jax was pretty sure the meaning was similar.

Evangeline blushed and gave an embarrassed smile, then made a circle with her finger. Riley didn't know what she meant, but Jax did. He grabbed Riley's arm and made him turn around so Evangeline could reach under her dress and put the dagger away in its hidden sheath.

“We have to get you off this pyramid and away from this town. If you're ready . . .” Riley glanced over his shoulder and apparently she was, because he turned and took her firmly by one arm. Jax took the other. “Don't worry, we've got you, but
let's go
.”

Evangeline started stumbling on the first set of stairs. “Sorry,” she gasped.

“It's okay. I didn't make it down on my own either,” Riley said, as he and Jax threw her arms over their
shoulders and lifted her right off her feet. “It's a wonder you can stand at all after casting that spell.”

Jax could only grunt his agreement. She wasn't very heavy, but Jax was shorter than Riley and the stupid stairs were way too narrow and deep. This was
hard
.

“Is there some reason to hurry?”

“There is,” Riley admitted. “Can't conduct the level of magical mayhem we did last week without attracting attention.”

There'd been Dulacs and Dulac vassals in Mexico this week, looking around the pyramid site, asking questions. They wanted to know if the threat to the Eighth Day Spell had been eliminated and how they could assist the Morgans. They were particularly interested in discovering the whereabouts of the Emrys heir involved, expressing their “concern” that she ought to be in “protective custody” for the safety of everyone. In fact, they volunteered for the job.

Deidre Morgan had diverted them as much as she could, claiming Evangeline had been killed during the attack on the pyramid. But some of Wylit's vassals who might know better had gotten away, and no one liked the idea of the Dulacs catching up with them before the Morgans did.

“They suspect I'm lying,” Deidre had told Riley. “But my mother and their clan leader currently have a truce, so they're playing nice for now. They probably think
I
have her, and if I act suspicious enough, I can lure them away from the pyramid at midnight on Wednesday. That'll give you time to whisk her away from here. In the meantime”—here she'd included Jax in her intense gaze—“stay out of sight.
Both
of you.”

The Crandalls hadn't liked that plan at all. They'd wanted Riley to leave Mexico on the first plane available, certain that if the Dulacs learned a Pendragon had survived their assassination attempt five years ago, they'd fix that mistake at once. But Riley wouldn't leave without Evangeline, and neither would Jax.

So right now Deidre was leading the Dulacs on a wild goose chase, and all three Crandalls were circling the pyramid complex with binoculars and high-powered rifles.

Jax was panting hard and sweating by the time they reached the Avenue of the Dead. Evangeline stubbornly made them put her down so she could walk to the car herself, but she groaned when she saw it was the Balin brothers' black Land Rover.

“Yeah, I know,” Riley said with sympathy. “But Donovan and I made a deal for it.” He threw open the back door for her. “Donovan handed over the keys, and I didn't bust him in the nose.”

“Riley.” She looked up at him through her pale eyelashes, and he froze. “Thank you. For everything. Not just yesterday. But . . . everything.” Her cheeks were pink, which may have been from the stairs, except she hadn't
been doing most of the work.

Riley opened his mouth . . . and nothing came out.

Jax shook his head.
Pitiful
. The girl was finally willing to talk to him, and Riley had no idea what to say. Then Jax brightened. “Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you two get in the back and chat? I'll drive.”

That snapped Riley out of his stupor. “You don't know how to drive.”

“I'll learn. It's Grunsday. Who's going to pull us over?”

“Get in the back, Jax,” Riley growled, walking around the side of the car.

As they passed each other, switching places, Jax whispered, “Chicken.”

“Shut up.”

In the back of the Land Rover, while Riley peeled down the Avenue of the Dead at way too fast a speed, Jax opened up a cooler and offered Evangeline another water bottle. She took it, but she was looking at him so sadly, he stiffened.

“What?” he demanded.

“Jax,” she said, then paused as if reluctant to continue. “I took you on as my vassal under emergency circumstances. I thought it would save your life, and then you ended up saving mine.” Her gaze darted toward the front seat. “But I think you were probably meant for someone else.”

“Who, him?” Jax pointed a thumb at Riley. “I wouldn't
swear to him if he was the last liege lord on earth.”

“Wouldn't want you, squirt,” Riley replied without taking his eyes from the road.

Evangeline looked back and forth between them with her brow crumpled, as if she couldn't tell if they were joking or not. “I'm offering to release you,” she explained.

“I know.”

This was exactly what Riley had predicted she'd do. Here she was, exhausted and wounded, and all she was worried about was giving up something she thought she had no right to—Jax's loyalty and friendship.

Riley had said he could have Jax back with Naomi in just a few days if Evangeline let him go. By fall, Jax would be enrolled in a new school. Kidnappings and pyramids and running away from homicidal Transitioner clans would be a distant memory.

He could take up trombone again. Join the astronomy club. Just like his father had wanted.

Too bad Dad never talked it over with me
.

“Do you not want me around?” Jax asked Evangeline.

“It's not that. It's just—”

“Was I a bad vassal?”

“Of course not! You were brave and quick thinking—”

“Is it because I'm a Transitioner? Or a lousy cook?”

“Be serious,” Evangeline said in an exasperated voice. But she was biting her lip and trying not to laugh. He recognized the expression from the pepper-spray incident.

“Okay. Seriously, then.
I decline your offer of release
.” Jax said it solemnly and formally, using the words Riley had given him to say. When he saw the relief in her eyes, he grinned and used his own words.

“You're not getting rid of me that easily.”

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I'd like to thank my agent, Sara Crowe, and all the wonderful editors of HarperCollins who helped me make
The Eighth Day
the best book it could be: Alexandra Cooper, Alyssa Miele, Barbara Lalicki, and Andrew Harwell. I also want to thank my husband, Bob Salerni, who took me to Mexico to climb the Pyramid of the Sun; our tour guide, Alvaro Arestegui, who taught me the history of the place; and my brother-in-law, Larry O'Donnell, who helped me plan a military assault on it. I owe thanks to my daughter, Gina, the very first reader for every chapter of this book, and my daughter, Gabrielle, who designed Jax Aubrey's mark. A big thank you also goes to my critique partners, Krystalyn Drown and Marcy Hatch, as well as my beta readers: Henry Becker, Gwen Dandridge, Lenny Lee, Katie Mills, Susan Kaye Quinn, Mary Waibel, and Maria Ann Witt.

A very special thank-you is owed to my reading
classes from the 2012–2013 school year. These students were “handcuffed” to me and dragged along on my publication adventure. They cheered me on through every step in the process! Thank you, Jimmy, Matt B., Isabel, Rachael, Valerie, Isaac, Joey, Miranda, Josh P., Zach R., Aidan, Angelo, Kyle, Javi, Darrien, James, Shelby, Kira, Luis, Alexa C., Matt C., Mike, Zoe, Chase, Matt H., Patrick, Laura, Katie, Savannah, Abby, Owen, Josh M., Alex, Macie, Grace, Brayden, Nathan, Chris, Karl, David, Lauren, Alexa Y., and Sabriya.

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DIANNE K. SALERNI
lives in Chester County, Pennsylvania, with her husband and two daughters. She's been teaching fourth and fifth grades for over twenty years and is the author of several books, including
We Hear the Dead and The Caged Graves
. Though she knows the Eighth Day doesn't exist, she secretly hopes to someday discover one so she can find the time to grade all her students' papers. Learn more about Dianne at
www.diannesalerni.com
.

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T
HE EIGHTH DAY
. Copyright © 2014 by Dianne K. Salerni. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com

ISBN 978-0-06-227215-7 (trade bdg.)

EPub Edition October 2013 ISBN 9780062272157

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