In Dreams (22 page)

“So spill, is it over?” she asks.

“Epiales won’t give up. I guess that Morpheus, my
dad, thinks now that Mom and Grandpa are rescued, Epiales will come back to this realm again. Whatever his plan was, whatever was meant about my being a ‘pawn,’ Epiales won’t give up. He’ll be back. But at least here, in the mortal world, he’s weaker. Better to face him here than in the Underworld.” I don’t add that I’m terrified of what that’ll mean for us in this world.

And then the door to my room opens.

And Sebastian walks in.

And despite being well, I almost faint.

He looks battered and bruised. His face is pale, and he has the shadow of stubble across his cheeks and chin, which looks hot.

I can’t even speak, I am so shocked. I want to pinch myself, to make sure that this isn’t some sick dream, that this is reality. Before I can he races to my bed and kneels next to it, wrapping his arms around me. I
feel
his arms around me. In this world. In
my
world. He is flesh and blood.

My heartbeat increases, and he raises himself up and sits on my bed and kisses me. I touch my fingers to his lips, trembling. This is real. And I know what Aphrodite says, but if our kiss isn’t number one, it is in the top ten.

He pulls away. Annie and Henry stare at him.

“Is this . . .?” she asks.

I nod.

“I so totally get why you would go to the Underworld for him.”

Sebastian smiles and kisses my hand. “Annie?” he asks, cocking his head toward her.

She nods.

“We’ve met in her dreams. Not that you’d remember, since it was in Iris’s head.”

Henry sticks out his hand. “I’m Henry.”

My father and mother walk in, followed by Aphrodite. The three of them stare at Sebastian. He immediately stands and bows to my father. “Prince Morpheus . . .”

My father shakes his head, as if to say the formality isn’t necessary. “You crossed. That’s why she’s well. You managed to cross the river.”

Sebastian nods.

In his beautiful voice, the voice of my dreams, he tells us the story. “I was determined to be with Iris here. To protect her from Epiales. To never leave her side. But to become mortal, I had to cross the River of Sorrows. And the Ferryman said only by surviving your worst nightmare do you manage to cross the river and not end up in Tartarus.”

“What’s that?” Henry asks.

“A dungeon below even the Underworld, where you suffer for all eternity.”

I look at my father. The gods
certainly
like dramatics.

“When did you enter the river?” Morpheus questions.

“Four days ago. Under cover of night, I waded in. As soon as my body entered the water, I had flashes of Iris in pain. The images tormented me. I didn’t think she was going to survive, and I blamed myself. I thought my worst nightmare would be
my
torture. But I’d already suffered that. And I should have known. Should have anticipated Epiales’s brutality.”

Sebastian grows quiet for a moment. Then he whispers, “At night I would hear Epiales’s voice. He would tell me everything he was going to do to you, Iris, how you would suffer. He offered me a bargain. If I went to Tartarus forever, he would release you from your pain. I was drowning, literally, in the River of Sorrows, sucking in black water. I looked up at the black sky and saw you, in this hospital bed, dying.”

“But you’re here,” Aphrodite murmurs. “How . . . ?”

“I was ready to accept the deal. I didn’t know if he would keep his promise, but . . . I couldn’t imagine a worse torture than watching Iris die. I was willing
to take the risk. And no sooner had I opened my mouth, ready to accept, that I felt a rock beneath my foot. I had somehow made it to the other side. I fought to get to the shore, the last yards just crawling against the tide, but eventually, I threw myself on the bank. And I passed out.”

“And my illness lifted.”

He nods.

Everyone visits for a while. Then the nurse says visiting hours are over. She steps out of the room so we all can say our good-byes.

My father’s forehead furrows. “I don’t know where to be tonight. With your mother . . . or here. I’ll feel better when you’re all in one house again.”

“I’ll stay,” Sebastian offers. Inside I am elated.

My parents nod. It’s weird to see them as a couple. It’s weird to see my mother awake.

One by one, they each lean down for a kiss. Aphrodite hugs me to her breast. “There’s baklava with your name on it when you get home.”

Then it’s just Sebastian and me.

I still can’t believe he’s here.

My nurse pokes her head in and sees him in the chair next to the bed. It’s past visiting hours. I think she’s going to tell him to leave, since he’s not my mom
or my dad. Instead, she whispers, “After all you’ve been through, I’ll look the other way tonight.” She winks and then says to Sebastian, “Just make sure she gets her rest or she won’t be released tomorrow.”

The hospital floor grows quiet. I click off the TV, which has been on in the background all this time. By the rail of my bed, I press on the Light button until my room is almost dark, just a soft night-light on.

Sebastian moves from the chair to the edge of my bed. “I can’t believe I’m here.” He puts his hands to either side of my face. “I don’t know what I would have done if . . .” Rather than finish the sentence, he kisses me.

He slides down until he is lying next to me. I shift in the bed to make room. He kisses my neck. Then he lies on his back. I roll on my side and settle into the crook of his arm. I touch his skin, the stubble on his chin. I wrap my fingers in his curls, still not believing he is here. I touch his bruises. “Sebastian . . .”

“Worth every sacrifice.”

I nestle in. I love the
feel
of him in real life. I inhale. He still smells like the sea, the way I remember it from my dreams.

His breathing grows steady. I look at him, and he is
sound asleep, his long lashes like feathers, his profile strong.

And for the first time, for as long as I can remember, I fall asleep peacefully.

19

The dream deceives; it leads to confusions; it is illusory.

But it is not erroneous.

MICHEL FOUCAULT

I
am so relieved to be home. The first thing I do is take a long, hot shower. I am shocked when I look in the mirror. My face is thin, and deep circles rest in the hollows beneath my eyes—worse than usual. I dress in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, shaking a little. I still can’t believe Sebastian is mortal, and that he is
here
in my house. This feels like a dream, but it’s real. Usually my dreams feel real, but they are mirages that slip through my fingers.

When I go out to the living room, everyone is there, and they cheer when they see me. Grandpa has ordered takeout from no fewer than three restaurants—including a new Greek place we’re trying—and has set the dining room table up like a
buffet—with our good china and silver. Aphrodite has apparently had Nico bring candelabras from her house. Ornate baroque angels hold up tapered candles. Aphrodite pours wine for her, Grandpa, Dr. Koios, Nico, and my parents; Henry, Sebastian, Annie, and I settle on the carpet around the coffee table to eat our food and drink our sodas.

Sebastian lifts an eyebrow at the snow globes.

I look around. Aphrodite is in the kitchen—I can hear her flirting with Nico. Since she’s out of earshot, I whisper, “These aren’t usually here. Grandpa hates clutter. They’re Aphrodite’s.”

“What are they?”

Henry, Annie, and I stare at him. Annie freezes, a piece of pizza halfway to her mouth.

“Snow globes,” Henry says.

“You know, sno-o-o-o-w gl-o-o-o-bes,” Annie repeats slowly, stretching both words out, and putting the slice of pizza down on her plate.

“You said that.” He laughs softly.

“I thought just in case you mostly speak ancient Greek or something.”

“Annie”—I sigh—“you’ve talked to him before. You know he speaks English.”

“An Annie-ism.” Henry smiles and looks at her adoringly.

I look at the snow globe and then stare at Sebastian strangely. I realize he has lived in my dreams. He has never been to school. Or eaten pizza. Or experienced Red Bull. Or, like Aphrodite, had a sleepover and watched movies all night. Or done any of the things that Henry, Annie, and I have.

Henry gives Annie a little elbow. I think he’s realized it, too. And then Annie’s eyes get that I-get-it look.

I lift a snow globe—one of Aphrodite’s prettiest ones. Inside are two traditional Greek dancers, a boy and a girl. On the bottom is a winding mechanism. I wind it, and tinny Greek music plays. I shake up the snow globe really hard with two hands and set it down directly in front of Sebastian. Inside the two little figures twirl in a circle, and the music plays while snow rains down on them.

His face is transformed. He’s so sexy and masculine, but for the moment, he looks like an innocent boy, like the boy in the tree house who wanted to play pirates. When the snow globe stops, he grins. “Do it again?”

I wind it up, and he is just as captivated. He takes it in his hands and holds it even closer. My heart just melts like a slushie.

Everyone is now in the living room. Aphrodite starts crying over her souvlaki.

“What?” I ask. “Everything is okay now.” Well, at least sort of okay.

Nico immediately runs to get her tissues and kneels down and dabs at her face, brushing aside a stray hair and fixing her tiara.

“It’s not that”—she sniffles—“I just got used to being here. To being a
thia
—an auntie. And now I have to go home.”

“Well, you’re
still
my auntie,” I say.

“But I’m all the way out in
Queens
.” She says Queens like it’s three syllables.

“We’ll visit on weekends. Family dinners on Sundays,” I offer, exchanging a look with Mom and then Grandpa, hoping that’s okay.

“Absolutely!” he exclaims.

I exhale, relieved. I didn’t know how he felt about gaining a goddess in the family. Particularly one who cluttered up his house beyond recognition.

“We’re family,” my mother says. She gets up and walks over to Aphrodite and kisses her on the cheek.

We all stay up late. Henry and Annie, Sebastian and I go into my room. We show Sebastian YouTube and give him a crash course in modern teenage life. He loves the Mentos-in-soda trick. And our modern music.

Around eleven thirty, Henry looks at the time on my computer. “I better go. Curfew.”

“Drive me home?” Annie asks him. She looks at me. “I’d stay, but my mom needs me to babysit the Tiny Terrors in the morning. She’s got to take my dad’s mom to my aunt’s house upstate. Gram’s going to stay with my aunt Jackie for Christmas. We’ve had her since Thanksgiving. And I have to tell you, Mom loves Gram, but she is
so
ready to have her kitchen back to herself.”

Henry and Annie stand. He looks at me. “I’m really, really glad you’re okay, Iris.”

“Thanks, Henry.”

“Promise you . . . we’ll get you an A in trig.”

“I’d settle for a B-minus.”

“Deal.” He looks me in the eyes. His are moist. “You really scared Annie. I’m so glad there’s a happy ending.”

A happy ending for now. It never is far from my mind that it isn’t
over
. That Epiales will not be happy Morpheus outwitted him and we got my mom and Grandpa back again. Epiales will be coming. And though I feel a
lot
better with Morpheus and Aphrodite and Koios—and Sebastian—on my side, I’m not sure a celebration is completely in order. Despite the wonderful night we all enjoyed.

Henry smiles and sticks out his hand. “It’s been
great meeting you, Sebastian. I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of you.”

Sebastian nods and shakes his hand.

It’s then that I sort of wonder what, precisely, we
are
going to do with Sebastian. He has no past, no identification, no family. I’m his only tie to this world. Forget trig—he’s never even been in a classroom. I decide we’ll figure it out later.