The Eternity Key (5 page)

“Oh, I think I have one of those,” Daphne says, riffling in her tote bag. She pulls out a crumpled pamphlet and spreads it out with the other papers, then stands inspecting them while hugging her green book to her chest.

Dax and I huddle around the maps with her and Tobin as Lexie drinks her smoothie, watching us with uninterest. Garrick lies on top of a couple of desks, as if he’s going to take a nap.

“Do you see it?” Tobin asks.

I study the maps in front of me. On the oldest map, the area
is a wooded wilderness and there isn’t a lake. I remember Simon telling me that the Olympus Hills lake was man-made, but I wonder when it was excavated. I scan the maps and land on one that’s yellowed at the edges, but not yet brittle. I notice a handwritten note in the corner:
OH prospective ver
. 1. I compare it with the
WELCOME TO OLYMPUS HILLS, A LUXURY MASTER-PLANNED COMMUNITY!
brochure.

“Does anyone else notice something missing from this map?” Tobin asks, pointing at what I assume to be the original design for the Olympus Hills community.

I give it another inspection, and something catches my attention.

“The grove,” Tobin answers his own question before I can respond. “The smaller island of the lake where the grove is, it’s not in this plan. Everything else is the same as the brochure, the island for the school, Olympus Row, the walking paths around the lake. Everything except the grove …”

“Like someone changed the plan,” Daphne says. “Perhaps someone who knew there was something special about the grove?”

“No way. You guys, get this,” Lexie says, paying attention now. “After Pear was attacked and Tobin and Daphne found her on the grove’s island, I overheard my dad talking to Bridgette’s father—he’s on the school board. Anyway, Bridgette’s dad said that several parents had been lobbying for the board to make some sort of rule, banning students from cutting through the grove to get to school. He said there had even been a proposal to tear the island down, but that it would be
impossible
. And he said it like that, like it was all weighted, and my dad nodded like he knew what he was talking about. At the time, I thought they were talking about the expense. But what if it really is impossible to tear down the
grove—and that’s why the lake ended up different from what’s on the original plans? Like when they tried to excavate the grove, it was, like, protected or something.”

“Or that the grove
is
protecting
something
,” Daphne says excitedly. “That makes total sense! I knew the Key had to be there.”

Garrick groans from his makeshift bed. “Uh, yeah, the grove is protecting something: Persephone’s Gate,” he says, like we’re all a bunch of addled idiots. “I imagine if there were Underlord emissaries involved in the design of the town, they wouldn’t fancy the gate opening up underwater. It doesn’t mean the Key is there, too. As we’ve already proven. If it were buried there, we would have already unearthed it.”

I agree with Garrick’s point but Daphne looks so crestfallen over his doubt that I contemplate placing my hand on her back in order to reassure her. But would she just find that too forward? Would it be more appropriate to place my hand on her shoulder? But the small of her back seems more appealing. More intimate. I shake the thought off and stretch my fingers toward her arm to give it a platonic but assuring pat, but she steps away before I get the chance. I tuck my hand behind my back as if nothing happened, and she flops down at her desk and flips open her green book with irritated abruptness.

“He’s right,” Lexie says, her interest returning to her smoothie. “My money is still on the Mojave Desert lead. Though I’m not picking up a shovel again. Not here. And certainly not in the desert.”

“Whatever,” Tobin mumbles, and picks up a couple of the maps as if he’s about to pack them away.

“These are still useful,” I say to him. “Can I hang on to them? I might be able to find some more inconsistencies. Perhaps there’s
another—”

“I think I’ve got something,” Daphne says, cutting me off. She waves that book of hers in the air, excitedly.

“What is that?” I ask. She hasn’t set the book down once all morning—almost like it has some strange hold over her.

“It’s CeCe’s—I mean, Abbie’s—diary from before she ran away.”

“Really?” Tobin and Dax say almost in unison.

“Look at this,” Daphne says, handing the book to Tobin. “She talks about the grove in here.”

Tobin takes the book from her. He stares at the lined pages for a moment, as though seeing his sister’s handwriting is like looking at a ghost. He clears his throat and reads the passage Daphne indicates out loud: “ ‘I feel as if the grove was created for keeping secrets. It’s like I can feel them buried here. And it holds so many of mine. I tell everyone I go there to rehearse my lines for drama class, but that is only half the truth. I’ve been practicing using my powers. With Dax’s help, I managed to create a few sparks in the palm of my hand last night. I wish I could tell Tobin—he’d probably think I’m like a character in one of his comic books. A superhero. He’s the only one in my family who would get it—who gets me. He’s not like Mom or Dad or Sage, who are so practical and analytical all the time. They have absolutely no imagination. But I can’t tell Tobin, either. I just don’t think he’s old enough to understand what it all really means. He won’t understand why I have to leave.…’ ” Tobin’s voice catches, and it takes him a moment to go on. His eyes scan the page, and it seems as though he’s skipped forward when he starts reading again. “ ‘For now my secrets will have to stay buried in the grove with all the others.’ ” Tobin closes the book as if it pains him to read any more.

“You see, the grove,” Daphne says quietly, giving Abbie’s words reverence. “I’m telling you, that’s where this town’s secrets lie. The Key
is
there.”

“That sounds like a pretty big reach to me,” Garrick says, covering his head with his crossed arms. “So some half-Skylord chick used to go there to keep her dirty little secrets; doesn’t mean the key is hidden there, too.”

“That half Skylord is my
sister
. Don’t talk about her that way,” Tobin says, and I can practically feel anger rolling off him. I cannot help but worry that with all the new, not-exactly-pleasant information he’s had to absorb in the last few weeks, Tobin is like a hellcat ready to “Hulk out” (as Daphne put it) if he gets pushed one too many times.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” Without any hesitance, Daphne places her hand on Tobin’s shoulder as if she could sense him about to snap. Actually, knowing Daphne, I bet she could probably hear the notes of Tobin’s anger filling the room. I still don’t understand her ability to hear the tones and emotions that living things put off, but I do know that she’s used it three times to save our lives, so I’m not going to question its oddness. But I also don’t need to linger on the sight of her touching his shoulder.

I look away, clutching my own hand behind my back. Dax catches my eye and gives me a look like I should make some sort of decision. “Lead,” he mouths, reminding me that I am supposed to be in charge of this bickering group. They’d all left the safety of Ellis in order to follow me.

“Daphne
is
the Cypher,” I say in a tone befitting a captain. “She’s the one who is supposed to be able to find the Key, so if she thinks it’s in the grove, then we must have missed something.”

Daphne smiles at me, and Tobin and Dax both give me nods.
Even Garrick deigns to uncover his face. Lexie takes a sip of coffee, but at least she seems to be listening.

I stand up straighter, ready to lead the charge. “I say we go to the grove now and we don’t stop looking until we find something.” I smack the desk beside me for emphasis.

“Um, now?” Daphne says, sinking back into her chair. “Class is about to start. You know Mr. Morgan is kind of insane about attendance.”

“Who cares about Mr. Morgan?” I ask.

“Um, me,” Lexie says.

“Me, too,” Tobin says.

“Especially me,” Daphne says.

“You were the one who was insisting that we needed to search the grove again,” I say, my frustration edging into anger.

“Yeah, but not this second. I told you I’d help you find the Key, but I’m not jeopardizing my standing in this program because of it,” Daphne says. “I’ve told you before, I’m helping you because I want to go back to my normal life. Well, as normal as it was before I found out I’m the Cypher.”

I want to argue with her, but I know it’s pointless. I turn to Dax instead. He was the one who had wanted me to step up and take control. He was the one who declared, back in Ellis, that he would follow my lead anywhere.

He shrugs. “There’s a new teacher starting today. I’m supposed to give him the grand tour and all that this morning. We can go after school.”

I purse my lips and resist the urge to throw my hands up in the air. That would be expressing too much emotion.

“Wherever it’s hidden,” Dax says, “it’s been there for a few millennia, and it will still be there in a few hours.”

“Fine, after school, then. But nothing is stopping us.”

“I’m out,” Garrick says. “I’ve got plans to watch the cheerleaders practice after school.” He jumps up from where he’s been lying, with a newfound energy, and heads for the door.

“Garrick, wait. I’m not done—”

He reels around. “You’re done as far as I’m concerned. You’re not a Champion anymore, which means I don’t have to listen to you anymore. I’ll do whatever the Tartarus I want with my time. And breaking my back with your fool’s errand doesn’t fit into my schedule today.”

I make a move to stop him—rebuke him for his disrespect—but instead I let him open the door to leave. He’s right. I don’t have any
real
authority over him anymore.

“Have any of you idiots stopped to consider that we can’t find the Key without the Compass? Isn’t that what the Oracle said?” Garrick says this like it’s supposed to be a slap in the face and then goes, leaving the door wide open behind him.

“He’s a real gem,” Lexie says. “Remind me why we brought him back from Ellis with us?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” I mumble.

“He has a point, though,” Daphne says. “I’ve considered that possibility every waking moment since the Compass was stolen.”

“Sarah didn’t give you any clues as to how to get it back?” Dax asks.

“What she said is that I
will
get it back and that I
will
use it to seek the Key. But she didn’t tell me how.” Daphne sighs and stares out the window. Other students are starting to pull into the parking lot. We don’t have much time left to ourselves. “Ever since the Compass was stolen from me, I’ve had this hollow ache gnawing at
my heart. Like I lost a piece of myself when the Motorcycle Man stole the Compass. And how am I even supposed to find it when I have no idea how to find him?”

A similar feeling fills my chest as I think of her pain. I realize now that we’ve all been dancing around that issue—trying to ignore the hydra in the chamber—until Garrick threw it in our faces. That without the Compass we will fail.

“I wish I’d gotten a look at that motorcycle’s license plate,” Daphne says, “but I never saw it from behind because it was always chasing us. All I know about it is that it was a black, shiny bullet bike.”

Lexie laughs. “That was not a bullet bike. Do you even know what you’re talking about?”

“Isn’t that what you call bikes with a weird racer front that really douchey guys drive?” Daphne asks.

“Um, I’m not sure what you’re describing, but that motorcycle was a Ducati Superbike 1199 Panigale. That’s, like, a thirty-five-thousand-dollar bike.”

I blink at her.

“What? I’m a poor little rich girl with daddy issues. I have a thing for hot, douchey bad boys with motorcycles. Can you blame me?”

“Um …” Daphne makes a look like she’s actually considering answering that question but then reconsiders.

“And it wasn’t just ‘shiny’—that thing was in mint condition. Brand-new, if you ask me.”

I stand up straighter. “As in recently purchased? Probably from a dealer nearby?”

Lexie nods. “I don’t know how nearby, but there are probably
only half a dozen dealerships between here and LA that sell that kind of bike.”

“Do you think if we found the right dealership, they might tell us who bought it?” Daphne asks.

“We could try,” Lexie says. “I’ll have one of my Sopranos research it during lunch and draw up a list of Ducati dealerships in the county. I’ll visit a few after school to see what I can find out while you all go and dig around in the mud.”

“You really think you’ll get them to hand over someone else’s personal information?” Tobin asks, sounding incredulous.

Lexie puts her hands on her hips and gives him a little wink. “I do have a way of getting what I want.”

Tobin’s cheeks darken again, and I wonder if there’s a story behind Lexie’s insinuation.

“Sounds like it’s at least worth a try,” I say. “We’ll go to the grove after school; you’ll work on tracking down that bike.”

A few students enter the classroom through the door that Garrick left open. Class is starting soon.

“Gotta go,” Dax says, checking his watch. The group disperses, with Dax heading to the counselor’s office, and Tobin, Daphne, and Lexie going to the back of the room to check their cubbies for the new sheet music Mr. Morgan had promised before Christmas break. I collect the maps and stick them in my bag for safekeeping.

A sharp scream goes up in the back of the room, and I expect the worst, but find Lexie with a gaggle of her Sopranos. From the squealing and exclamations that follow, I gather there had been a note in Lexie’s cubbie indicating that she had landed a choice role in the musical written by Daphne’s father. Fittingly, it is about the tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice, of Orpheus’s journey into the
Underrealm to retrieve his wife. Risking everything for the one he loves …

Daphne and Tobin had already been chosen to play the roles of Orpheus and Eurydice last fall, but I knew Lexie had been campaigning for Persephone’s. Sounds to me like she’s gotten it.