Authors: Christina Bauer
I’m half-way there when Mom pops her head in from the kitchen. “Hi, Myla. I got us some frozen dinners. Yours is chicken, I think.” She shoots me a long stare. My eyes still flash red with rage.
Mom frowns. “Is everything alright?”
No, it’s not alright. I hate this thrax Prince guy so much I can’t stand it.
I take a deep breath. “Everything’s fine, Mom. I just have a lot of homework to do.”
“Do you want to eat in your room?”
“That would be awesome.”
I march into my room and settle onto my bed. Pulling a textbook out of my backpack, I toss it open to a random page.
Mom steps up to my bedside. “Here you go.” She sets a tray of greenish-orange goop onto my nightstand. I glance at the ‘food’ and wince. Even for our house, this is disgusting stuff. Note to self: learn how to cook.
I force a smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t stay up too late doing homework.” She gives me a peck on the cheek and walks out the door.
I shovel some frozen dinner into my head and stare at the same random chapter in my textbook. An hour ticks by. None of the words on the page sink into my brain. My eyes flutter shut while the book’s still open on my lap.
The moment my lids close, I dream of the Gray Sea. Once again, I stand barefoot on the dark sand, a wall of black stone looming nearby. Dark thunderclouds roll overhead. The stench of sulphur makes me wince. I crouch, setting my hands onto the charcoal-colored earth. A circle of white fire erupts before me. In the center, the sand rises into a familiar form.
My mother.
All breath leaves my body. Verus said she would send me visions of Mom’s past. Is it finally starting?
The figure before me takes on more definition. Even though her body is still made of sand, I can tell Mom’s wearing toga-style robes, the same kind of
garment she held when crying in her room. I suck in a shaky breath. Those must be Senate robes.
My skin prickles with the chilly touch of unexpected understanding. That’s why Mom got upset: she found her old Senate robes while looking for sewing stuff. How awful. One day you’re a toga-wearing Senator, the next you’re sewing dark robes for a bunch of ghouls. A weight settles into my bones. When she asked me, I didn’t even know what the robes were. Her own daughter. That gives the whole interaction a new level of suck.
I return my attention to the desert floor. More sand rises inside the circle of flame. This time the granules form different shapes around Mom. I squint, seeing the sand transform into the Ryder mansion’s East Wing staircase.
Okay, that makes sense. I figured Mom worked on the mansion’s diplomatic floor. Why else would she have maps hidden away?
A grin curls the edges of my mouth. I’m on the right track.
Before me, the circle of flame flares brighter, and then vanishes. The scene, once made of sand, is now flesh and blood.
I let out a low whistle.
That’s pretty cool dreamscaping, Verus.
A ghoul rushes up the stairs to hike along at Mom’s side, his black robes swaying as he moves. “You’ll be late, Senator Lewis.” He stands less than six feet tall, which is super-short for a ghoul. Pulling back his hood, he reveals a bald head covered with light gray skin. As ghouls go, he’s pretty handsome with huge black eyes, a straight nose, and full mouth.
Mom turns to him, her face winding into a dazzling smile. “I won’t be late, Tim.
And I’m not Senator Lewis
yet
.” Her chestnut hair falls in perfect waves over her shoulders; her eyes are brown and bright. An aura of energy and power surrounds her. I can’t stop staring at her, questions flooding my mind: How can this woman be the same one who collapses into a puddle when I’m called to the Arena?
Tim pulls an old-fashioned stopwatch from the folds of his robe. “You’ll never be a Senator if you miss your swearing-in ceremony.” He clicks the metal cover open, glances at the watch-face, and then sides the instrument back into his robes. “And that starts in precisely twenty-two minutes.” His forehead creases with worry. “Why must you visit the staff at this time?”
“You’ll understand once you meet them.” Mom pauses at the door to the second floor and turns the handle. Nothing happens. “That’s strange.”
I take a good hard look at the door. Yup, that’s the exact same one I walked by on my way to the fourth floor library at the Walker mansion. Next time I’m there, I am for sure finding a way into
that
room.
“We usually leave this unlocked.” Mom pulls a silver chain from around her neck. A tiny key hangs at the end. She slips it into the knob, twists the handle, and slowly pushes the door open.
Mom and Tim step inside. Rows of desks and chairs line the long space, all of them empty. The room is quiet and dark. Mom sets her hands on her hips.
“Where is everybody?” Her chocolate eyes narrow.
I know that look. It’s the one that happens right before I’m grounded for forgetting to do something really important. Somebody’s in trouble, that’s for sure.
The lights flash on. Dozens of bodies appear from behind desks and chairs. “Surprise!”
Mom’s face bursts into a wide grin. She scans all the faces, clapping her hands with joy. She knows all these people. More than that, she cares about them.
Whoa, there.
My mother knows actual people, other than me or Walker? I suppose that should’ve been obvious once I found out she’s a Senator, but I never pictured it actually happening. A feeling that’s somewhere between joy and shock bounces around my rib cage.
An elder woman with amber skin and white hair steps out from the group. In her arms she carries an enormous cake that reads ‘Congratulations Camilla.’ She wears a simple blue pantsuit with a purple scarf at her throat. Her wide brown eyes, full mouth, and long black tail all look familiar.
Mom’s face lights up with a wide smile. “Thank you, Mother.”
Holy guacamole. That’s my grandmother, Sanctus Lewis, the one I read about in the Ryder library today. She wrote the introduction to
Quasi Diplomacy
. I scan the room, seeing all the strangely-familiar faces. These aren’t just co-workers, they must be the extended Lewis family. I shake my head from side to side. It’s one thing to read Grandmother’s introduction about the Lewis family legacy in diplomacy, but it’s different to see so many semi-familiar faces in the Ryder mansion. And why haven’t I met any of these folks before?
Grandmother’s mouth curls into a grin. “We’re all so proud of you, Camilla. A
Lewis has always won the diplomatic seat on the Senate, but never by an eighty percent margin!” The room erupts in applause. “The people of Purgatory agree with me by a landslide. My Senate seat could not be held by a better quasi.” She offers the cake to a lanky boy with short brown hair and a boar’s tail. “Will you set this in the conference room, Mortimer?”
“Yes, Sanctus.” He lifts the cake from her arms and walks toward the back rooms of the office.
Grandmother turns to Tim, her smile melting into an unreadable look. “You brought someone with you.”
“Yes, I have.” Mom turns to the ghoul beside her. “Tim, meet my family.” She gestures around the room. “Family, meet Tim. He’s joining the staff as my personal assistant.”
Sanctus eyes him carefully. “We’ve never had a non-Lewis family member work in the diplomacy offices.”
“Well, that’s something to change. If we’re to interact with other realms, we need to start right here, in this office.”
“Excellent point.” Grandmother nods softly. “Tim, let me give you the grand tour.” She gestures across a group of men and women of many ages and sizes, all of them with chestnut hair, amber skin, and great chocolate-brown eyes. “Over here, we have Sophia, Isabel, and Martin. They ran Camilla’s election campaign. By the window, you’ll find Fortus, Quin, and Felix; they manage office operations. Coco, Seina, Arturo, and Hugo are in the back conference room helping themselves to cake. They take care of correspondence and requests. And finally
we have Tanis and Bea in finance.”
Tim’s jaw falls a little loose. “I’ll never remember everyone.”
Grandmother frowns. “That’s quite unfortunate. There’ll be a test later.” Her tail whips ominously behind her.
A bead of black sweat trickles down Tim’s cheek. “Oh, no. I’m completely unprepared.”
Mom sets her hand on Tim’s arm. “Don’t worry. Sanctus is teasing.”
Tim exhales. “Ah, I see.”
A girl about four years old steps up to Grandmother and pulls on her pant leg. “You forgot me.” She’s a little wisp whose chestnut hair hangs in ringlets like Cissy’s. Her long black tail reaches upwards, winding gently about Grandmother’s hand. She’s adorable. I imagine acres of cousins, aunts, and uncles hidden around Purgatory. Cute little moppets that ask me to sing stupid songs. Older relatives who may have some awesome advice on how to land the best service after graduation. Men and women Mom’s age who know secret family recipes. My tummy feels warm with Lewis love.
This. Is. Awesome.
Sanctus scoops the girl up into her arms. “How could I ever forget you, Dani? What’s your title again?”
“Vice President of Fun.”
“That’s right. And does our Vice President have any plans for today?”
“Yeah. We all go with Auntie Camilla to the swearing in.”
Sanctus raises her white eyebrows. “Now that’s a top notch idea, Dani.” She
turns to Mom. “There’s no law against it, as long as you don’t mind.”
“Mind? I’d
love
it.” Mom claps her hands. “Everyone, Sanctus and I have an important announcement to make. You’re all joining me at the swearing-in ceremony!” The room erupts in a cheer. Mom turns to Tim. “Can you open a portal for us, please?”
Tim nods. “Of course.” A black hole about eight feet high opens in the center of the room.
Mom positively beams. “Now, everyone, grab the hand of the person next to you and don’t let go! We’ll all portal into the Senate chambers together.” There’s a murmur and shuffling of feet as everyone forms a long daisy chain. “Are we all ready?”
Another cheer erupts around the room. This time, I let out a happy shout as well.
I can’t believe I have this awesome family hiding out somewhere!
Mom grips Tim’s hand firmly. “Alright, then. We’re off!”
One by one, every member of my amazing, newfound family steps through the portal. Last in line is Grandmother with little Dani perched on her hip. As they disappear into the darkness, the image in the Gray Sea changes. The diplomatic offices transform from reality back into sand. The granules slowly collapse into the floor of the Gray Sea.
I wake with a jolt, stretch and smile, smile, smile. Reading about the Senate doesn’t compare to seeing Mom in her purple robes, smiling and confident. I press my palms into my eyes and yawn. My mind races through every moment of the dreamscape.
Senator Camilla Lewis, wow.
Resetting my pillow beneath my head, I stare out the window. The sky’s still dark; I glance at my alarm clock. 4 AM. Rain streams down the windowpane. My anger with Lincoln feels a million miles away. How’d I let some dope get my demon so riled up? There are more important things to worry about. Like meeting my family.
Speaking of which…
I set my bare feet onto the chilly floor, tiptoe into Mom’s room, and stand by the foot of her bed. My body hums with nervous, happy energy.
“Mom, are you awake?”
She yawns. “Having trouble sleeping, Myla?” She pats the space beside her.
“You could say that.” I plunk onto the bed with a small bounce, my back resting against the headboard.
Mom’s chocolate eyes open wide. “Did you get a dreamscape from Verus?”
I grin. “Oh, yeah.”
She takes a deep breath. “Do you have any questions?”
“You were a Senator, Mom. Wow.” I slap the mattress in an excited rhythm. “I read something in a book that said you were one, but in the dreamscape I saw it like it was real.” I bite my thumbnail. “I guess that wasn’t a question, really.”
Mom pulls herself upright so she sits beside me. “Was that a book from the Ryder library?”
“Yes.” I shoot her a guilty look. “I totally left them a note when I took it.”
“I’m sure it’s fine that you borrowed it; I’m glad the book exists at all.” Mom
lets out a long breath. “Zeke’s parents are remarkable people. You wouldn’t believe what went into keeping their mansion, let alone their library. It’s the last bit of our old world left. In many ways, our only connection to the outside realms.”
I could dance around the room, I am so pumped about the info I’m getting right now.
Tell me more!
“So, what was it like, being a Senator?”
“Let’s see.” Mom starts reciting facts like she’s leading a tour. “Purgatory once had a Senate with 100 representatives. Our family held the diplomacy seat for generations.”
My head wags from side to side. “How am I your daughter and this never came up in conversation with
anyone
?” I shoot her a look that says ‘and that means you, too.’
“No one noticed me after the war and I wanted to keep it that way.” She picks stray threads from her weathered comforter. “Armageddon took over Purgatory for one reason: to get more souls in Hell. In the Senate, we gave souls every chance to get to Heaven. It’s only fair. Demons don’t need souls to survive. Consuming souls is just a drug to them, a high.” Her eyes flash with a bit of red, something I’ve never seen before. I knew Mom had wrath powers like me, but I figured she somehow only inherited the tail and not the temper.
“How can we let them get away with this?” My eyes burn with anger. “The ghouls teach us that quasis are basically the biggest losers in history.” I point toward my room. “I’ll make copies of that book and hand it out to other kids at school. Maybe I’ll grab even more books from the library–”
“Myla, no!” Mom grips my hands. “We can’t take that risk. You have to
understand. Armageddon’s war was more than a takeover; it was a massacre. He wanted to wipe out any memories of the old ways, the generosity, the tolerance. Who knows what they’d do if someone started bringing up the republic again?”
“I don’t care. People have a right to know.” I jut out my chin. “Besides, I’ve fought evil.”