Empire of Bones (31 page)

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Authors: N. D. Wilson

BOOK: Empire of Bones
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Antigone had asked questions, but Lemon had refused to say more.

Jerome held out a banana and Antigone nipped off a bite. Next on her little list …

Tooth Tools (Weapons)
. Lemon had taken her to a small armory belowdecks, full of knives and swords and
strange spears and muskets and musket balls and flintlock pistols and huge sawtooth traps hanging on chains next to clusters of strange lumpy bombs, all forged in black steel under some kind of influence from the tooth. Lemon had said the blades were nearly unbreakable, and while they couldn’t kill a transmortal, they could inflict intense pain. The closer the tooth was when they were used, the more intense the pain. Skelton had laid them away for years against the day when the tooth should be recovered. And Lemon wanted them all gone. She refused to touch them, and while Antigone had walked the racks of black steel, Lemon had looked away.

Antigone had been excited. Weapons were obviously helpful. And then Nolan had picked up one musket, recoiled when the steel touched his skin, and thrown it onto the ground.

Antigone had seen the old anger erupt in his normally weary eyes, the blue veins seething beneath his paper skin. She could see it still. Antigone looked at Jerome, the orange ape. He had run out of bananas and was now carefully stacking empty peels.

Nolan had practically snarled at her.

Antigone had backed away, watching the ancient boy clench his fists and grind his teeth. Slowly, Nolan calmed, exhaling the storm inside him one steady breath at a time. His hands unclenched. Sweat slipped down his temple and onto his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “Antigone … pass such cursed and Reaper-charmed steel through my blood and I will still be screaming in a year. It is charged with a pain and madness I can feel from here.”

Antigone sighed. Rupert might want them to collect weapons, but that wasn’t happening. Not with Nolan on the plane. And she was pretty sure she didn’t want it to happen, either. Torture like that felt wrong. Until she thought about Radu Bey …

A sharp whistle floated up from the deck below. She looked down and saw Dan standing between the trees. Jerome grunted and leaned forward onto his knuckles, peering over the edge.

“Di’s been talking to Arachne and Cyrus!” Dan shouted. “You need to get down here.”

Cyrus was pacing in the small dusty room where Rupert had left him. There was one chair, one light, a small folding table dotted with oil cloths and a gun-cleaning kit, two walls covered with books, and two walls covered with loaded gun racks. The sagging bookshelves surrounded the locked door. More bookshelves had even been mounted directly onto the door. Rupert had called the place his lesser study.

The glowing Quick Water wobbled on the table.

Bells were ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

Cyrus heard shouts in the hall outside his door, and he froze.

“Cyrus.” Arachne’s voice was tiny and thin. “Cyrus! Stand still, or come closer. This is hard enough as it is.”

“Cyrus?” The voice was Antigone’s. “Cy? Are you—” His sister gurgled silent.

Cyrus stepped back to the table and dropped into a crouch, staring at the blob on the table. He had lumped Sterling’s little drop in with the rest, but it was still a small sphere.

Arachne’s pale, distorted face bobbed inside it. Warped and magnified spiders raced across it.

“Divide the orb, Cyrus.” Arachne’s voice was sharp and clear. “And press the halves flat against a wall. I will do the rest.”

Cyrus split the clear jelly sphere and looked around. There wasn’t much in the way of open wall space. He stepped over to a bookshelf and squelched both little balls flat against the leather spines of Rupert’s books. Jelly oozed out between his fingers, but then slurped quickly back through. Letting go, he backed away.

Two silver splatters clung to Rupert’s books. They swirled and sagged, dripped and climbed back up. Eventually, they flattened. Almost. The liquid was ridged with the spines of the books, but the books themselves faded away behind the water. On the right side, Cyrus
was looking at a ripply Arachne, and Dennis was peering over her shoulder. They were in Llewellyn’s lodge or somewhere like it. On the left side, he was looking at Antigone, Dan, and Diana. Nolan lurked in the background with his arms crossed. They were in what looked like a cafeteria with painted metal walls and caged flickering lights above them.

“There,” Arachne said, and the liquid rippled. “This is easier.”

“Cy?” Antigone said. “Can you hear me? What’s that ringing? The water keeps rippling.”

“Alarm bells,” Cyrus said. “Bells of summoning. I don’t know. It’s crazy right now. Rupert shut me in here and now he’s off being Rupert. I don’t know how long I can talk, so let me get this all out. First, is Mom okay? Everybody good?”

Antigone nodded. Diana retreated and Cyrus’s mother leaned into view, her dark eyes even bigger and brighter in the warped liquid, her raven hair even shorter. She smiled slightly and puckered Cyrus a quick kiss.

“Where are you, my son? Is it safe? Will you be safe? You should come here where it is warm. This air makes me stronger.”

Cyrus blinked, surprised at how he felt, at how much he suddenly wanted to be with his mom. He had risked never seeing her again more than once today, and bigger risks were coming. Everyone was watching him. Dennis
and Diana and Nolan and Dan. He coughed, unsure of what to say. He was badly out of Mom practice.

“Love you,” he said quietly.

“And you,” she said. “Be safe.”

Cyrus nodded, and his mother retreated. He was sure she could still hear him, but saying what he needed to say was suddenly easier.

“Right.” Cyrus coughed again and then filled his lungs for a quick rundown. He told them about the attack in the chapel, about Niffy and Rupert attacking the Brendan’s rooms and Bellamy Cook dying and what he had said before he went out the window. “So Radu Bey is on his way, and he’s planning to destroy Ashtown and open all the Burials. We still don’t know where Phoenix is or if he’s going to come and try to tame Radu Bey. I think he’s coming, or else Bellamy wouldn’t have said he was going to be Reborn. He was expecting Phoenix to get his body.”

Cyrus paused. Dan didn’t look surprised at all. Of course, for all Cyrus knew, everything he was saying was just confirming some dream of his brother’s. Antigone’s mouth was open. Diana was covering hers with her hand.

Nolan stepped forward. “When?” he asked. “How much time do we have?”

Cyrus shook his head. “Not enough. That’s all I know. Rupert is gathering everyone still here who isn’t running. He’s telling them everything, and fingers
crossed they don’t kill him on the spot. But here’s what we need.” Cyrus turned to Arachne’s silver face. Dennis was blinking in shock behind her, his mouth drooping. “Arachne, Gil has to fight for us. We need him—and the Captain—here as soon as possible.” He looked back at the cafeteria. “Diana?” Diana Boone slipped forward. Dan leaned away to let her get closer. “Could you have your dad pick up Arachne and her crew and get them to Ashtown right away? He should come, too, with his biggest guns and every last one of his crotchety friends who don’t want to see the Burials opened.”

Diana nodded. “I’ll try. It might not be easy.”

Cyrus knew that already. And he knew what he was asking them to risk. None of this was from Rupert. This was all from him. Every spent life would be on his shoulders. Cyrus ignored the cold lead settling in his gut, swallowed hard, and pushed on.

“If your dad can’t get to Llew’s camp, you’ll have to do it, Di, and right away. But it would be better if you all started collecting absolutely as many of Skelton’s weapons as you can find and came straight here. Are there any there?”

“Yeah,” Antigone said. “But, Cyrus …”

Nolan pushed forward. “Cyrus—”

“Good,” Cyrus said. “Start now. Get here as soon as you can. Like, by sunrise, and pray that Bellamy was wrong and they’re not planning to hit us tonight.”

Someone began pounding on the door to Rupert’s little room. Cyrus jumped to his feet.

“Di, get someone to Llew’s. Tigs, weapons. And put your Angel Skin back on. Love you, Mom!” Cyrus swiped the liquid off the books and dropped the slopping ball into the little pouch Rupert had used to carry it.

“Cyrus!” Niffy bellowed through the locked door. “Needed! Now!”

Cyrus slid an iron bolt and pulled the door open.

“How’d it go?” Cyrus asked.

Niffy shook his head. “Not well. The goodies already trickled away under Bellamy. The baddies already had the word to run. A few bounced us in the hall, but Rupert tapped a pint of rage and they scattered. Most of the remainder are staff, and they seem to be looting and leaving, but Rupert hasn’t given up yet. I need you to get me to the zoo. Crypto wing. Little lad called Jax. Rupert wants his giant turtle.”

Antigone watched the two separate sheets of Quick Water slurp toward each other and wobble into one. Arachne’s face was still waiting when the rippling stopped. Cyrus was gone.

Antigone said nothing. Dan groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Diana turned, looking for Lemon.

“Do you have a phone or something like one?” Diana asked.

Antigone didn’t hear Lemon’s answer. Her older brother leaned in tight, whispering through her hair. “We can’t keep moving Mom like this,” Dan said. “I’ll go. You stay here with her.”

Antigone thought about the tall, smooth-skinned man with the stone face and the hard eyes, with the chains on his wrists and ankles and the bloody dragon on his chest. She thought about the huge dragon he had become—the hot breath that had parted around her face, the stumps where wings should have been, the spiked tail he’d used to hurl balls of fire … the dragon’s voice crawling through her head.

She would need to put back on her Angel Skin.

“I’ll go,” Antigone said. “Mom will feel safer with you. She’ll
be
safer with you.” She glanced at her brother. Dan’s eyebrows were up. “I have a better chance of controlling Cyrus than you do,” Antigone added. “And I know Ashtown.”

Dan nodded. Antigone looked around. Katie Smith was watching her with worried eyes. Antigone tried to smile, but it felt like a lie. She let it fall off her face. Diana and Lemon were gone. Horace was sitting at Katie’s table with his short legs crossed, scribbling in a small notebook with a pencil too small to keep a bowling score. Nolan leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed.

Antigone turned in her seat and met the boy’s time-polished eyes.

“Nolan,” she said, “I know you don’t like it, but we need weapons that can scare a transmortal. That’s the whole point. Not evil stuff, just … awful.”

Nolan turned his head and slowly scratched the side of his neck. The tips of his fingers were red and pink. He’d been chewing his nails.

She went on. “If Radu tries to kill Cyrus, I don’t care if I make him scream for a year.”

“You don’t understand,” Nolan said quietly. “Some of these things … Fight devilry with devilry and it doesn’t matter who wins. Devils triumph either way. You become what you defeat.”

Antigone scrunched her lips. “So find us some angels, Nolan.”

Nolan smiled sadly. “That is what
we
are meant to be, what the O of B has sometimes been.”

Arachne’s watery voice slipped out of the Quick Water, and Antigone jumped in surprise. She’d forgotten Arachne was still watching.

“Some tools corrupt the user. Others are redeemed in holy use. Assess the weapons fairly, Nolan.”

The pale boy yawned slowly, stretched, nodded, and finally turned away.

Antigone looked back at Arachne’s silver face.

“Now for the storm,” Arachne said. “And an end.”

 sixteen 

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