Blood Ties (18 page)

“Who has it?” Phlox asked.

“Malcolm LeRoux's daughter stole it, using her zombie servant.” Sebastian nodded toward Dean.

Again, Oliver watched Phlox accept this with much less shock than he was expecting. Why didn't she seem surprised that Oliver wasn't Dean's master? Had they known all along? Suddenly that familiar, frustrating feeling of being in the dark began to well up in him.

“Lythia?” Phlox asked. “But you said—”

“Lythia's working with someone else,” Emalie suddenly said. Oliver realized that she was standing in plain sight, not hiding herself. And now he watched as Phlox and Sebastian actually turned to look at her. “We don't know who,” Emalie added, her voice shaking slightly with the Nocturnes' eyes on her, “yet.”

“Lythia didn't get the charm,” Sebastian added. “Someone took it from Dean first.”

Phlox looked to Oliver. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and saw relief on his mom's face.

Phlox slid her katana sword into the leather sheath tied around her waist, then moved to Sebastian and put an arm around his shoulder. Oliver saw Sebastian lean in to her slightly, betraying how much his arm was hurting him. “Let's get you down below,” she said.

“I don't know if I'll be welcome back at your parents',” Sebastian groaned.

Phlox moved him purposefully toward the elevator. “You mean Ember and his gang?” Phlox's eyes flared. “
Tsss.
Let him try to get in our way again. I'd enjoy the excuse. We're leaving for the boat in the evening, anyway. I doubt he'll show his face…” Phlox sighed. “I can't wait to get out of here.”

Oliver remained behind with Emalie and Dean as his parents stepped into the elevator. He wondered if they would even say—

“Oliver.” Phlox and Sebastian were both looking at him. Phlox's face was blank, in that familiar way, but then she said, “Don't be long.”

Oliver felt completely confused, but managed to nod. The elevator doors slid closed and his parents slipped out of sight.

Standing there, his parents' gazes fresh in his mind, Oliver understood that a great thing had just changed. Or, maybe it had been changing all along, and he just hadn't been able to see it. He thought all the way back to that night on the Space Needle, to the blank look when his father had first seen Oliver with Emalie and recognized the truth of their friendship. There had been that tense dinner, and Phlox's commanding words:
Get over it … over her…

All spring into summer, even an hour ago when Sebastian had suggested that Oliver was using Emalie to get back at them, Oliver had assumed that his parents' silence and expressionless gazes meant the very same thing as his father's had atop the Space Needle: confusion, disappointment … feelings that had built up to the point that Oliver's parents had decided he was beyond hope. And maybe his parents' expressions had
looked
the same, but at some point, what those gazes
meant
had changed. What had once seemed like disapproval…

Had become acceptance.

It was all in what Phlox had just said:
Don't be long.
It assumed that Oliver would spend more time with Emalie and Dean. It accepted that these friends were a part of his existence, and that maybe, at least for now, that was okay.

“We should get Emalie back,” Dean said carefully, his tone still quiet with regret.

Oliver nodded, feeling a strange, and probably fleeting, sense of peace. “Yeah, let's go.”

Chapter 14

The Boat to Isla Necrata

AS OLIVER, EMALIE, AND DEAN
walked down the mountainside, and eventually into the sleeping streets of Fortuna, the three friends discussed what had just happened, making sure they had all the pieces straight.

“That's great that your parents aren't mad at you anymore,” said Emalie, patting Oliver's shoulder.

“Kind of amazing,” Oliver agreed.

“One problem, though,” said Dean. “They still want you to fulfill the prophecy and open the Gate. And, well … you—”

“No,” Oliver assured him, “I don't want to open it.” For the moment, his anger at Dean's betrayal had faded. After all, it wasn't Dean's fault. And Dean was right: Oliver didn't want to destroy the world. So, the prophecy was a problem, but not for tonight. “We'll figure it out,” he said, trying to sound hopeful, but inside, his worry returned.

Could they do it? Selene had said there was a way to undo the prophecy, but Oliver wondered about that. He'd always heard that prophecies could not be undone. It was possible that he'd traded in his lies to his parents only to now begin a new lie to his friends.

Oliver found Emalie gazing at him oddly, almost as if she'd heard his thought.
Are you in here?
he thought worriedly. There was no reply. Oliver tapped his head and repeated aloud: “Are you in here?”

“Oh, nah. Not anymore,” she replied. “That connection got broken when you were knocked out.”

Oliver nodded, but at the same time he wondered whether or not to believe her. Emalie seemed to be able to get in whenever she wanted. “Well, so what's the odd look for?”

They had reached the inn where Emalie and her aunt Kathleen were staying. “It's just…” she began. “It must be a lot for you.”

“You mean being responsible for the end of the world?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah, that,” Emalie replied.

“Mmm.” Oliver shrugged.

A silence passed over the trio. Somewhere up the street a door slammed. From the other direction came footsteps on cobblestone, the panting of a dog. The chirping birds seemed to grow louder, and a humming of distant cars grew.

“You guys should hit the sewers and get back down to Morosia,” Emalie said. She reached out and hugged Oliver. “Have a good vacation. Be safe.”

As Emalie pressed against him, Oliver felt a momentary breakdown of his ability to think or speak. When she pulled away and hugged Dean, Oliver managed to say “Thanks,” and “You too,” and then, “When we get back, let us know what else you find out about your mom and the whole moon god thing.”

“And that old photo,” added Dean.

“Roger,” Emalie said with a reluctant smile. “And we'll try to find out more about what Selene said, and how to save the world. And about your real parents, Oliver.”

Oliver nodded It was a lot to think about. “Guess it's going to be a busy summer.”

“We always have space,” Myrandah said as she fluttered about the kitchen, “for a family that reconsiders their place near the sunlight.”

“Right, Mother,” said Phlox, busily arranging the Nocturnes' bags beside the door.

“But still Phloxiana refuses to see the dangers of the surface world,” Myrandah grumbled disapprovingly, casting an accusing glance at Sebastian, whose arm was wrapped and tucked beneath a new coat. “I'd think you'd consider it for once.”

Phlox spun and checked her watch with extra energy. “Wow, look at that. The boat leaves in two hours! Good-bye, Mother.”

Oliver was joined at the doorway by Bane, who neither elbowed him nor made any sarcastic comments. Oliver had barely seen him since the museum. For once, it had been Bane who was already asleep when Oliver arrived home after dawn. Oliver looked up at him now and saw that Bane's face was strangely still. He was no doubt sad to be leaving his wild cousins and wilder times. Oliver thought about making some kind of obnoxious comment to Bane, something veiled and referring to unfinished business, something that told Bane that he knew that Bane was up to something, yet instead, he decided to enjoy this rare moment of silence and lack of punches.

Myrandah wrapped them both in hugs. “My darlings will be eternally welcome here, whether or not their parents approve.”

“All right, Mother,” Phlox said hurriedly. “We're off!”

“Hades' speed to you,” Dominus called from the couch.

“Bye, Dad.” Phlox rushed them out the door.

The Nocturnes made their way across the smoky city, down the entrance hall, and back across the ferry. Rather than board the charion, they proceeded, along with a handful of other families, down a passageway that ended at a narrow canal of normal, everyday water. A fleet of gondolas awaited them, each with a zombie driver. They pushed off and floated through an arched stone tunnel: an ancient Roman aqueduct. An hour passed, then slowly the scent of the water soured with salt and brine, and the Nocturnes' gondola emerged from the tunnel into a warm night.

Their faces were met by a stiff, salty breeze. On either side, high pads of grass created the walls of a salt marsh. The gondolas twisted among the grasses until they reached a dock. Distantly, surf could be heard breaking against a beach.

The Nocturnes walked up the dock to find themselves at the start of a wide wharf. A stream of black limousines hummed across the warped boards, each in turn pulling up to a steep gangway that led up to the deck of a small, amber-lit cruise ship: the boat to Isla Necrata.

Oliver felt a rush of excitement at seeing it. The vessel was a relic from the early 1900s. While it still had three red-painted smokestacks, its insides all ran on geo-electrical power from magmalight generators. Strings of golden globes arced from the decks to the front of the bow and along the railings atop the ship.

As they walked toward it, Oliver could hear the string quartet already playing on the lido deck above. He could picture the open bars, serving frosted blood drinks in curvy glasses, with slices of passion fruit on the rim … the waiters passing by with trays of exotic Madagascar cockroaches, glazed with marzipan yet still alive and hissing … the swimming pools heated to boiling, smooth-skinned men and women lounging with their arms up on the sides, kids riding the nearby slides into the big pool…

All they had to do was climb that gangway, and for the next week, questions of prophecies and the future could be put on hold, and Oliver and Dean could just hang out. Sure, Dean wouldn't be allowed in the pools, given his zombie skin issues, but the two of them would have endless fun in the many casinos, in the video game lounge, the dance clubs.… And, Oliver thought, looking around at his parents, they might even have fun as a family. He saw that Phlox, Sebastian, even Bane seemed to be gazing at the ship to Isla Necrata as if it was a welcome sight.

It was amazing to have a thought like that—his family having fun together—but even given the questions still lurking, some things had changed for the better. Oliver no longer felt completely alone—maybe still a bit misunderstood, but not alone. And so maybe this would be a good week after all, now that Morosia was behind them—

“Seb!” The Nocturnes had just reached the start of the gangway, falling into line behind the other families and couples boarding. They all turned at once to see Tyrus walking quickly toward them, waving his hand. “Hold up!”

They stepped to the side of the gangway, letting the next groups of passengers on.

“Come on, let's go already!” Bane huffed.

“Quiet, Charles,” said Phlox seriously.

“Tyrus,” said Sebastian in his business tone. “Where are Ameilya and the kids—”

Tyrus reached them, and the dark expression on his face was clear in the amber light from the boat. “They'll be along. Listen, Seb—”

“What is it?” Phlox asked quietly.

“I'm afraid we have a problem.” Tyrus's eyes moved past Sebastian—

“Gah!” Dean exclaimed. Oliver turned to see him toppling over—

Elbowed by Bane, who was sprinting away.

“Charles!” Phlox shouted. “What are you doing?”

Bane vaulted up onto the gangway, landing in a tangle among the boarding passengers, igniting a chorus of hisses. “Get out of my way!”

Now Oliver felt a rush of air. Tyrus had been joined by Leah, and they both stepped past the Nocturnes and leaped onto the gangway as well. They had their arms around Bane in a moment.

“Let go of me!” Bane shouted, thrashing around.

“Come on, boy,” said Tyrus, “don't make this worse for your family.” Tyrus and Leah leaped back down to the concrete, throwing Bane to the ground in a heap.

“Tyrus, what's going—” Sebastian began.

Tyrus looked at Sebastian gravely. “Sorry, Seb.” He reached down, tore open Bane's denim jacket, and rummaged into the pockets.

Bane slapped and kicked in protest, sounding like a child. “Stop! Knock it off—” He landed a vicious punch to Tyrus's temple, but Tyrus barely flinched. Finally, he stood, tearing himself away from the struggling teen.

In Tyrus's hand was the cat's collar: the summoning charm for Selene. He held it up for the Nocturnes to see, then said everything he needed to say with a shrug of his eyebrows. Oliver couldn't believe it. Bane had intercepted Dean—taken the charm.…
Why?

“Charles…” Phlox said faintly.

Lying on the ground, hair tousled, jacket torn at the shoulder, Bane's eyes glowed fiercely. “Give it back!”

“Silence!” Sebastian roared, and Bane cowered as Oliver had never seen.

Tires crunched on the sandy planks, and a limousine pulled up right beside the group. Leah stepped up to Sebastian and held out folded papers, her face cold and serious. “Half-Light has provided you charion tickets home, leaving within the hour.” Sebastian took them with his remaining hand. Leah patted him on the shoulder with a pitying look. “Sorry.”

“What now, Tyrus?” Sebastian asked quietly.

Tyrus glanced at the charm in his hand. “Everything continues according to plan. We summon Selene, acquire her life force, and raise the Artifact on Isla Necrata.”

“What about us?” asked Phlox.

“You go home,” said a thin, raspy voice from behind them. Oliver turned to see the limousine door had opened. A narrow face, ancient in the eyes, yet with smooth white skin, leaned out from the warm red light inside. “And you await further instructions.”