The shadows stretching across my room told me it
was late afternoon. Henry had left on a bedside lamp for which I was grateful. I didn’t want to be left alone in the dark.
“Hey.”
“Aaaaaaaaaahhh!!!” I tried to leap from the bed, but I got tangled in the sheets. I wrestled with them and I lost the battle.
“Whoa, brown eyes. It’s just me.”
I stopped trying to extract myself from my bedding and looked up. Rath was about a foot away from the bed. His hands were in his jean pockets, and his gaze took in my sleep-worn, and now
mortified, self. I reinserted myself under the covers.
“
Henry seemed to think you needed a friend.”
“Oh.” I smoothed the bedspread. Rath
took this as an invitation to sit down. The bed dipped under his weight and his hip settled against mine. He leaned forward. He smoothed back my hair and then tapped my nose.
“
You were having a nightmare.”
I couldn’t deny it was a nightmare, but I knew it somehow a view into the future. Was Anubis sending these dreams to me? Why didn’t he check in on me? Or answer my prayers? I was his daughter. Didn’t that give me priority somehow?
The idea I was dreaming about the future—about the Set’s inevitable escape scared me. I looked up and found Rath’s gaze on me. He reached out, withdrew my hand from under the covers, and then threaded his fingers through mine.
“Do you trust me?”
he asked softly.
I wouldn’t look away. I couldn’t. My heart started to pound. “Yes. I trust you.”
His lips curled into a half-smile. “I trust you, too.” He squeezed my hand. “Tell about your dream. Why did you say my name?”
Embarrassment flooded me, and heat flushed my face
. “You heard me?”
“
You’re cute when you blush.”
Gah!
“I wasn’t trying to be a creeper.” He leaned forward and with his free hand, he grasped my chin. “I’m here for you, brown eyes. I’m on Team Molly.”
“Thanks.” I swallowed the knot in my throat, and licked my lips. Rath was so close. I could smell h
is cologne—something crisp and outdoorsy.
“
Maybe I was dreaming about failing Dr. Mayfair’s quiz on
Keep Thy Soul
.”
“Uh-huh. Are you that scared of an F?
”
“Definitely. It’s
probably what I’m going to get because …
blurgh
. That book is awful.”
“C’mon, Mol. Tell me about the dream.”
I didn’t want to tell him. I felt as though if I verbalized those visions, it would somehow ensure they came true. Fear crawled through me like tiny electric spiders.
I took a deep breath.
“You and I are in the Underworld. We’ve found Set’s prison and we’re trying to prevent his escape.” I shuddered and squeezed his hand tightly. I told him the details, even the part where he kissed me. Maybe if he knew everything, he could help figure out what it meant. (And also, maybe take the hint to kiss me? I know, I know. I’m such a girl.)
“It definitely sounds like a portent dream
,” said Rath. “It’s just you and I?”
I nodded.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then his gaze snared mine. “Where are the rest of the Chosen?”
“Yeah. And what portal did Clarissa
not
close?” I asked.
“Good question,” said Rath.
“We don’t know that there isn’t other stuff going on,” I said. “You know, like the other Chosen fending off Set’s minions somewhere else.”
“Maybe they’re in the human world
preparing for the apocalypse.”
“
Or there’s that.”
“What happened in the temple?” he asked.
“A big meeting was called at lunch. So, I go to the temple, and when I get to the bottom of the staircase, I start feeling really sick. This woman appears … like she’s a
sheut
or something. I fall down, and I’m starting to pass out. That’s when I see Mr. Jacobs in the shadows looking like he wants to kill me.” I frowned. “Only I think the woman was trying to hurt me, too. I passed out. I woke up in the main temple, I was on display in front of the whole society. Everyone was staring at me, including Mr. Jacobs.”
“You think he was the one making you sick?”
Rath seemed to take my accusation
seriously, which was a nice change from other people blowing off my worries. At least Rath knew about Clarissa and her diabolical pursuit of becoming the champion of Anubis.
“Yeah, but
he totally denied it. Even Miss Chiles said he was trying to help me.” I looked at Rath, feeling helpless. “I didn’t think necros had that kind of ability. I mean, using magic to kill someone doesn’t really fall under any of the
heka
powers.”
“
Sometimes necros find ways to bend magic. It’s stupid, because doing that kind of shit never ends well. If he did use his power to make you ill, then he’ll pay a big price for it. Don’t worry, Molly, I’ll look into it.”
“You believe me?”
“Yes.” He squeezed my hand, and then lifted it to kiss my knuckles. “I’m glad you’re okay, Molly.”
“Thanks.” Being around Rath made me feel like my blood had morphed into raw electricity. It pulsed and writhed, sending little shocks to my stomach. I knew there was something between
us—at least, I knew how I felt. Rath wasn’t as easy to read. I never knew what he was going to do or say, much less how he felt about anything (especially me). Still, in the dreams, the visions, he kissed me … and it was like we were
together
-together.
“
You said the woman in temple might be a
sheut
,” said Rath. “Have you seen one before?”
I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t revealed my aunt’s predicament to anyone, but I needed some guidance about what to do for her. “My Aunt Lelia … she’s, uh, a
sheut
.”
Rath’s expression turned incredulous. “She made contact with you?”
“Yeah. The night of my birthday party, after you left my bedroom. Remember that?”
“How could I forget?”
At my Sweet Sixteen party—the same night I saved Rick from death and bound him to my service (accidentally, I’d like to point out)—Rath had confronted me. He’d been there to reap Rick’s soul, and I had massively interfered with the process. My triumph soon turned to regret. Rick had suffered because I hadn’t wanted him to die.
Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need (so sayeth Henry).
Anyway.
“I don’t know what happened, or how my mom’s involved, but Aunt Lelia somehow got captured by Set.”
Rath held up a hand. “Wait a minute. Your aunt’s
sheut
belongs to Set?”
“
Oh, you mean the god imprisoned in the Underworld who’s trying to break out and get vengeance on us? Yeah, that’s the one.” I picked at the edge of the bedcover anxiously. “I want to free her.”
“We’d need a
sheut heka
, Molly.” Rath shook his head. “Since they’re pretty much outlawed, it’s rare that you find anyone willing to admit, much less use, that power.” He looked at me, his gaze serious. “You need to be careful. Asking around about
sheuts
can get you into trouble.”
I sighed. “There’s got to be a way
to help her.”
“
I can’t promise anything, but I’ll make some inquiries.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought he might reach out and touch my face again. Instead, he let go of my hand and offered me a wicked grin. “Rest up, brown eyes.”
“
Yeah. I’ll need my rest to kick your butt in training.”
“You can try.” He got off the bed. “See you later.” He winked at me, and then in a
flash of cold darkness, he disappeared.
The clock on my nightstand reminded me that I had about three hours before my friends arrived for movie night.
I didn’t really feel like having friends over, but I’d bailed once too often in the last couple of weeks. I couldn’t bring myself to cancel.
I eased out of bed, and surveyed my room.
If this had been my bedroom at home, you wouldn’t be able to see the floor because of discarded clothes, thrown pillows, and other assorted junk. I had cleaned my room on a weekly basis because Nona insisted (remember, she’s Italian and has a big rolling pin). Here, at Nekyia, I’d been spoiled by Henry’s OCD tendency to keep everything clean, neat, and precisely in its place.
I looked down at my toes, and decided I had time for a long bath and a pedicure. Then I’d help Henry set up for the movie night party.
Knock, knock, knock.
I crossed the room and opened the door. When I saw who it was, I tensed up immediately.
“What do you want?”
Molly’s Reaper Diary
Frenemies
You won’t like everyone you meet. And hey, there’ll be plenty of people who don’t like you, either. Especially souls who don’t want to believe they’re dead, and will fight you all the way to the gates of the Underworld.
You don’t get choose the souls you guide, and sometimes, you don’t get to choose who you work with on certain tasks. Take, for example, the loathsome Clarissa Jacobs. Despite her attempts to sabotage and humiliate me, I still had to suck it up and work with her for the common good.
“The common good” phrase belongs to Miss Chiles. She utters it constantly. Hey, I get it. I’m not dense. I understand there’s a bigger picture. So, I resist the urge to punch certain people and choose to be a “team” member.
Woo.
Anyway, just because you have to work with your nemesis doesn’t mean you have to trust her (or him). It does mean to be extra cautious around them because they’re probably looking for opportunities to screw you.
Don’t plot back. I mean, really. Don’t do that. You’ll lose focus fast if you’re concentrating on making one person miserable instead of completing a successful mission. I’m sorry, but trust me when I say you’ll be better off taking the high road than jumping into the muddy hole with your frenemy. You’ll get dirty, but worse, you’ll swallow all that animosity … and drown.
“The Nekros Society was created by Anubis to train elite necromancers—the Chosen—to fight Set, should he ever escape his prison and wreak his vengeance. Among these was the
Kebechet
, the ancient Egyptian word for ‘daughter.’ The
Kebechet
is always a female. Anyone may challenge to be champion of Anubis, and can gain the title by winning a competition designed to test her wits, her fighting skills, and her necromancy. ”
~
Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown
“Muddy is the graveyard
Thin is the veil
On the night the ghosts dance
And open the gates of hell.”
~Jennifer McClung, Author of
Undeadly Poems
Chapter 5
“WE NEED TO talk,” said Clarissa.
I glared at her. “Why?”
“Because we do.”
She crossed her arms, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, but her little imperious act couldn’t cover her nervousness. Could she possibly
have come to my dorm room to fess up to her crimes? Oh, ha.
“Are you going to let me in?” she demanded.
I wanted to yell
NO!
and slam the door in her face. Instead, because I am a good person (and also curious about what she had to say) I opened the door wider and stepped back so she could enter.
She strode across the room and sat on the bench at the foot of my unmade bed. I shut the door and then I joined her on the bench—sitting as far away from her as possible without falling off the edge.
Clarissa glanced around the room, obviously unimpressed by my dorm room. I realized she had a Legacy dorm, too, so nothing in mine would come as a surprise. Her gaze landed on the TV and the comfy lounging cushions and bean bags. “I have a training area,” she said. “Daddy says TV is a distraction.”
“It is,” I agreed. “Sometimes, you need distractions.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” She crossed her legs and then clasped her hands around her knee. “Why did you accuse my father of trying to hurt you?”
“Because he did.”
“Where’s your proof?”
I rolled my eyes. “I saw him. He was muttering under his breath, no doubt casting an illegal spell, and he walked toward me like … like he was going to crush me into dust.”
“He doesn’t like you.”
“
The feeling’s mutual.” I crossed my arms. “If you think have the chops to get
Kebechet
without dear daddy cheating for you, then why did you report me for stealing the soul box?”
“I didn’t.”
I snorted in disbelief. “You’re the only who has the motive.”
Her expression turned incredulous. “You are so stupid. You don’t think you’re a threat to anyone else on this campus? You’re a Briarstock
! Anyone here could have a bloodline grudge. Your mother wasn’t exactly known for her charity work.”
Give that Mom had bailed when I was ten-years-old, I found it difficult to defend her. I wasn’t sure what a bloodline grudge meant, but I wasn’t going to ask Clarissa about it. I had all kinds of questions about what Mom did while she was at Nekyia. Of course, I wasn’t all that sure I wanted to know. Carrying my own baggage was hard enough—I didn’t want to pack and carry Mom’s miseries, too.
“Fine. Whatever. Are we done?” I asked.
Clarissa
chewed her bottom lip. Then she straightened and looked me in the eyes. “I don’t need my father’s help to win the competition. I’ve been training my whole life to be chosen as the
Kebechet
. I’ve sacrificed everything.”
“You mean, your dad made sure you sacrificed everything.”
Something raw and vulnerable flashed in Clarissa’s blue eyes, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “Save your armchair psychology for your loser friends. And leave my dad alone. He didn’t do anything to you. You’re just … weak.”
I suddenly realized that Clarissa’s faith in her father had been shaken. And here she was, trying to make herself feel better by bullying me. I hated to admit that I felt sympathy for her. I understood that her father probably pushed her hard—probably way too hard.
Unfortunately, that fact didn’t make Clarissa any less of a bitch.
At some point, you had to stop blaming the people around you and accept that you’re responsible for yourself, your choices, and your mistakes.
Or so I’ve been told by every adult in the history of ever.
“Believe what you want,” I said. “Your dad came after me.” I stood up. “If he does it again, I’ll be ready. So maybe you should tell
him
to leave
me
alone.”
Clarissa stiffened and her expression became thunderous. Then she sucked in a breath and slowly stood, her fists clenching. “The competition will prove which one of us is the real champion,” she said. “It’ll just be you and me, Molly. And I will win.”
Clarissa’s arrogance was boundless—no doubt that quality was another gift from her awful father. I strode to my door and yanked it open. “Get out.”
“Gladly.” She marched forward, and then she hesitated. She glanced at me, her expression more anxious than angry. “Just … watch your back.”
Clarissa left. I slammed the door and locked it.
Watch your back.
Her tone hadn’t been hostile. She’d sounded more worried … almost like she was giving me friendly advice. That didn’t make sense. As hungry as Clarissa was for the ultimate prize, she wouldn’t do something stupid like warn me.
Would she?
I wrestled with my thoughts for a few moments more, and then gave up. Clarissa and her father could go jump off a cliff for all I cared. I needed to focus on my own goals. Right now, goal one was a long, hot bubble bath followed by goal two of painting my toes neon blue.
“WE REALLY NEED to stop letting Autumn pick the movies,” said Barbie.
“Oh, c’mon,” protested Autumn. “
Casablanca
is a classic!”
“There wasn’t a single zombie in there. Booooooring!”
“You need some romance in your dark, decrepit soul,” said Autumn. Four of her ghosts floated above her head, engaged in a card game. Every so often, I heard one say, “Go fish.”
“No, I need more cheese doodles in mah belly.” Barbie rolled off her bean bag, and pointed at the
only dude in our group. “Hand ’em over, Danny.”
“Don’t call me Danny,” said Daniel in his usual deadpan tone. He gave her the half-empty bag of orange puffs, and Barbie happily shoved three into her mouth.
“Well, at least she’ll shut up for a minute,” said Autumn.
“Grag-ug-ew-blah!” yelled Barbie. She swallowed. “So there!”
We laughed, and then pelted Barbie with assorted snacks. Popcorn, potato chips, and M&Ms hit their target. Barbie looked down at her lap and picked up an M&M. “Thank you all for your donations. Your recognition of my awesomeness is appreciated—and expected.”
“Oh, ya’ll!” Autumn got up, turned off the TV, and ejected the DVD. “I gotta get some sleep. I’m plum tuckered out.”
“Plum tuckered,” mimicked Trina. She also stood, and brushed crumbs off her pink-striped shirt. “Why don’t you just say ‘tired’?”
Autumn put her hands on her hips, the DVD case sticking out from her left hand like an odd appendage. “I did.”
“Oh, goodie. Trina and Autumn are engaged in another round of ‘speak English, ya fool’.” Barbie pretended to hold a microphone. She pointed it toward Daniel. “What’s the score so far, Dan-O?”
“Zero to zero,” said Daniel. “And don’t call me Dan-O.”
Barbie stuck her tongue at him, which was orange. Her childish gesture earned an eye roll from “Dan-O.”
I watched my friend’s playful bickering with a sense of gladness. I felt (almost) normal. For once, I was able to hang out with my friends without having to back out, make up a lame excuse, or see Clarissa’s stupid face.
“All right, guys,” said Trina. “I have an announcement.”
We all turned toward her.
Trina’s expression was one of excitement.
“Oh, holy shit,” said Barbie. “They must’ve come out with a new shade of pink.”
“No,” said Trina. “But that would be cool.” She clasped her hands in front of her, and her mouth split into a wide grin. “I’m moving to Europe!”
“What!” I exclaimed. “Are you kidding?”
“I would never kid about the land of fashion.” Trina did a hip-shaking dance. Then she laughed. “My dad is opening a new Ghoul-AID factory in France. I’m transferring to the Nekyia Academy in Paris.”
“Do you even speak French?” asked Autumn.
“Oui. Je parle français.”
Everyone was silent. I jumped to my feet, and Daniel rose, too. We closed in around Trina. She was obviously happy—and who wouldn’t be? Moving to Paris was awesome. On the other hand, our friend was leaving. There would now be a Trina-sized gap in our lives. And I would never look at pink the same again.
“When do we say
bon voyage
?” asked Barbie.
“I’m leaving in three weeks,” said Trina. She finally noticed the looks on our faces. Her joy dampened. “Now, don’t get all sad. It’s not like we’ll never talk again. Or see each other.”
“You’re moving to Paris,” I said. “That’s not exactly a short drive from Nevada.”
“That’s why video chat was invented,” said Trina. “And airplanes.”
“We’re happy for you,” said Autumn. She gave Trina big hug. “We’ll have a big sendoff party for you.”
“Yeah,” I said, following Autumn’s lead. “It’ll bad ass, too.” As Autumn stepped back, I wiggled through the gap and wrapped my arms around Trina. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Oh, get out of the way,” said Barbie. “I want a hug, too.”
After Barbie’s uncharacteristic display of affection was over, Daniel gave Trina a quick squeeze. “No doubt Paris will be the new pink after you’re through with it.”
“You know it,” said Trina. Her eyes looked wet and she blinked rapidly. “Enough already. I gotta go get my beauty sleep.” She picked up her purse, and headed toward the door. With one last wave goodbye, and the tears she couldn’t hide glimmering in her eyes, she left.
The four of us looked at each other.
“Autumn, you know you’re in charge of the party, right?” asked Barbie.
“Of course!” Autumn spread out her hands. “It’ll be pink tie. Little Eiffel Towers on the tables. Parisian music. Oh, and there will be all kinds of pastries. And a chocolate fountain.” Autumn blinked, her expression dreamy, and looked at us with a goofy smile. “I have a million things to do. I’ll see y’all later.”
“Wow,” I said, after Autumn and her ghosts floated out of my dorm. “She loves parties.”
“And she’s completely OCD about details,” said Barbie. “We are now friends with Party Planner Autumn, AKA General Patton. Anubis save us.”
Daniel sighed. “I guess this means I’ll have to find a pink tuxedo.” He shook his head sadly. “The things I do for friends.”
“And on that note,” said Barbie. “We shall take our leave.” She wrapped her hand around the crook of Daniel’s elbow. “Walk me to my room, Danny Boy.”
“All right,” said Daniel. “And don’t call me Danny Boy.”
I laughed, and walked my friends to the door. “Good night,” I said. “Sweet drea
ms.”
“If only,” muttered Barbie. She offered me a half-smile. “Here’s looking at you, kid.” She flounced out, dragging Daniel with her.
I shut the door, and then turned to lean against it.
Trina leaving Nekyia Academy sucked royally. Eventually the distance would be too much to maintain the close friendship we all had with her. I had only moved eight hours away from my best friends in Las Vegas, and we talked less and less. If besties who lived in the same state couldn’t keep close ties then I had no real hope for those who moved to the other side of the planet.
On that bummer note, I started the post-party clean-up by eating the rest of the cheese doodles.
THE NEXT MORNING, I actually woke up early, so I had some free time before classes. I lounged on my bed and surfed the Internet, trying to find any information I could about Lelia Briarstock and her death nearly sixteen years before.
Okay, so I wasn’t the queen of research. I could find very little about my Aunt Lelia’s death.
It was strange that the oldest daughter of a prominent necromancer family didn’t even merit a memorial FB page. I mean, what did people do before Facebook and Twitter? Sheesh. No one would know anything.
I couldn’t even find Aunt Lelia on the school
’s website. If my aunt had been this great student and awesome record holder, you’d think they’d have some sort of information. I understood why they wouldn’t want to talk about my mother. Obviously, she had been a troublemaker and I doubted there was a rogue’s gallery available on the Nekyia website.
After a half hour of useless searching, I finally tried the local newspaper’s site. I plugged in the search terms “Lelia Briarstock” and “death” along with the year of my birth. The results came back mixed. But one headline caught my eye: “Woman Dies in Brutal Attack.”
I clicked the link. The page pulled up a three-paragraph story. Huh. That wasn’t exactly bursting with the kind of clues I needed. Next to the article was a picture of a wooded area with crime scene tape stretched between two large pine trees.
WOMAN DIES
IN BRUTAL ATTACK
RENO, Nevada – Yesterday evening, the body of a young local woman was found in the woods just off Necromancy Drive. The two-mile road leads to the elite necromancer school, Nekyia Academy, and the woman was identified as former star student, Lelia Briarstock.