The Triad of Finity (12 page)

A few of Dexires’ fingers rolled the flower toward him. “Trust me. Trust us.”

“I trusted you before,” Oliver muttered. “And it got my brother slain.”

“I know. And for that, all I can offer is my apology.” Dexires paused for a moment, then continued. “The flower is an invitation. Take it. And use the leech.”

Oliver reached back and placed the leech on his neck. He felt a quick sting as its teeth attached. Then, he slipped the vial into his sweatshirt pocket. “Can you at least tell me what Lythia is up to and save me the trip?”

“I want you to see it for yourself,” said Dexires. “Experience is important. Vital, actually, when it comes to choice. Things will make sense afterward.” Dexires smiled, his many teeth glistening. “The meeting starts soon, Oliver. You should hurry along. And we want you to know that we will be watching, and waiting to help further when we can.”

Oliver nodded. “Fine.”

“Good,” said Dexires. He folded his hands in a clacking of long nails. “It was nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah,” said Oliver.

He and Dean headed out. When they emerged, they found the semi-circle crowd staring at them quietly. Oliver recognized a handful of the faces: vampires his parents associated with, parents of kids at school. There were a few high school kids around, too.

Oliver looked at them all looking at him, and it frustrated him so much he wanted to scream.

“I got this,” said Dean, and he started enthusiastically forward. “Excuse us!” he said, his dripping elbows causing the gap to widen significantly. They passed through and walked back to the gap between levels.

Oliver gazed downward. It was hard not to keep going, down to the Yomi, to try to get to Arcana …

“Hard to trust the new guy,” said Dean, echoing Oliver’s thoughts.

“He’s probably right about Chronius.”

“So you’re saying that I was right, too?”

Oliver turned to Dean. “Yeah. Sorry, it’s just—”

“I get it,” said Dean. “Let’s go stalk Lythia. It’s always fun to ruin her plans anyway.”

“True. And I guess he’s right,” said Oliver, “about Emalie. She can take care of herself.” I hope, Oliver thought.

They left the Underground via a side entrance, following a main sewer line beneath Pike Street, toward Capitol Hill.

Chapter 10

Party Crashers

A large iron door marked the intersection of the tunnels beneath Pike Street and 11
^th
Avenue. The stone floor and walls had begun vibrating around Oliver and Dean a few hundred feet back. The door itself pulsed with bass beats. They reached it just behind a group of teens, who yanked the huge door open by a heavy iron ring. Oliver and Dean followed them into the long hall and were crushed by bodies, sound, and dancing light.

There were no magmalight globes to light the way, no candelabras like in typical vampire tunnels. Here, instead of art on the walls there were shimmering video screens showing a neon blitz of advertising and provocative videos, most in 3-D, with the images jumping out and mixing with the press of bodies. Music shook the walls, everything movement, pressing, every molecule vibrating. Oliver and Dean shuffled along, half-carried by the stream.

Entryways to the different sewer clubs were marked by large glowing signs and flanked by tall vampire bouncers in long black coats. Pele’s Lair was ahead on the left. The two words in the name were separated by a neon depiction of a tropical island volcano spouting a jet of lava. Most of the sewer clubs were demon-only, meaning you had to have one to get in, but Pele’s Lair was all-ages, so the long line outside had a good number of kids in it.

“Head down,” said Oliver as they joined the end of the line. He’d spied the eighth Pentath kids from school near the front of the line. He pulled his hoodie over his head.

The line moved slowly. It took almost a half hour for the eighth Pentaths to get in. Oliver and Dean were still a few parties back in the line. Oliver was starting to feel woozy from the leech. He probably needed food, considering this thing was sucking his force energy down.

“Hey, keep your hands off!” A voice screeched. Two bouncers hurried out with a girl thrashing in their arms. “I didn’t do anything!” Her eyes were glowing bright, her teeth bared and gnashing. She wore ripped jeans and a t-shirt that was torn at the neck. Her teeth were glossed with neon-green glow-polish. It took a moment for Oliver to recognize that it was his former classmate, Carly.

“No brawling in the club,” muttered one of the bouncers as they tossed her from the doorway. Carly crashed into the crowd before staggering to her feet.

“She started it!” Carly whined. She lunged back at the door, but the bouncer met her with a stiff arm that sent her airborne, her head cracking against the ceiling before she crumpled to the ground.

Carly pulled herself up, straightening her shirt. “Whatever,” she muttered, and stumbled into others. “Who wants to partyyy?”

Oliver looked down, but then heard Carly say, “Owwliver Nocturrrne?” He looked up just in time to see her careening toward him, her eyes wild. “Hey you!” she called. Oliver tried to act like he didn’t know her, but then she crashed into him and threw her arm around his neck.

“Gooood ol’, Nocturne,” Carly slurred.

“Carly, just, go. …” Oliver muttered to her.

“Come on.” One of the bouncers was beside them. He grabbed Carly by the arm.

“Cut it out!” she shouted, clawing to hang onto Oliver. Her fingers dug into his neck, right by the area where the leech was.

“Hey!” Oliver reached up, prying at her fingers.

The bouncer kept pulling. “Gaahhh!” Carly shouted. Her hand tore free.

“That’s enough from you,” the bouncer snarled, and dragged Carly away through the crowd. She thrashed in protest, many in the crowd eyeing her derisively.

Oliver felt around behind his neck.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

Oliver’s hand came away with a smear of white guts. “So much for the leech,” he said. “We’ll have to hurry before Half-Light can get here.” He looked up. The other bouncer was handling the line on his own. “Come on.” Oliver walked up to him. “Hey,” he said. “She clawed me bad. Can I head in to wash up?”

“Go ahead,” muttered the bouncer.

They hurried into the dark, humid interior of Pele’s Lair, lit in deep-red light by open magmalight cascades along the walls. The whole idea was to make it seem like they were inside volcanic caverns. One of the magma cascades fell into a fern-lined pool, freeing huge billows of steam from the roiling water, which clouded the room and made the air hot and moist. Now and then, one of the palm trees in the corners would spontaneously burst into flames. The room hummed with a low soundtrack of island drums and jungle sounds.

Suddenly the music ceased and a piercing shriek grew in volume.

“Whoa, what’s that?” Dean asked.

Oliver looked up and saw a screaming, flailing human come hurtling out of the darkness above, grass skirt and flower necklaces whipping in the freefall. Her scream grew deafening just before she plunged into a central pool of magma, causing a small plume of smoke as she was incinerated. The girl hadn’t been real, but instead a wax figure with the screaming human projected onto it, though the person used for the terrified projection had no doubt been real. Still, the effect was fairly convincing.

Oliver scanned the club. “See them?”

“Not yet.”

They moved quickly along the side of the room, passing deep velvet booths. Oliver wondered how long it would take Half-Light to send someone after him. Ten minutes?

“There,” said Dean. He pointed with his chin. The eighth Pentaths were on the far side of the central lava pool, entering a rock passageway. A glowing sign above it read:

Halema’uma’u Theater

Oliver and Dean circled the pool. It was incredibly hot, waves of heat making the world shimmer. Another muscular bouncer, wearing gold-framed sunglasses despite the darkness, stood by the doorway.

“Invitation only,” he said as they arrived.

Oliver produced the moonflower glass.

The bouncer motioned with his hand.

They entered a rock hallway that wound back and angled downward before ending at an open doorway. As they neared, Oliver saw an old theater, velvet curtains along its antique wooden walls, but he could barely fathom the scene inside.

The theater was packed, its few hundred seats filled, with more attendees standing along the walls. The crowd was mostly vampires; Oliver sensed that about half of them were kids without demons, the other half a mix of ages, mostly young. There were also some zombies, which was unusual enough, but there were even humans here, too.

And on stage, speaking to the entire crowd, was Lythia. Oliver could see her mouth moving, yet couldn’t hear her. He reached forward and his hand buzzed against an invisible energy barrier. A low hissing voice spoke: “
Password
.”

“The Legion?” Oliver tried.

“
Password
,” the voice repeated.

Oliver turned to Dean and shrugged. “Any idea?”

“Nothing,” said Dean.

They watched through the barrier as Lythia spoke to the crowd. “Emalie would know how to get through this,” Oliver said, and cursed to himself. They were almost out of time!

She’s not the only girl who can help
. Oliver felt a rush of air and Jenette appeared between them.

“Hey, Jenette,” said Oliver. He’d heard that hurt tone in her voice, and felt a little wave of guilt. “I didn’t think you couldn’t help, I just—”

You just didn’t think
, she said,
about me, anyway
.

“Well—”

It’s okay, Oliver
. Jenette sighed.
I’m used to it.
She floated up to the barrier and waved her smoky hand in a circle in front of it. The air rippled and she stuck her hand right through.
Someone else didn’t think of me either, or of wraiths anyway. I can get through this. Be right back.
She slithered inside.

A moment later there was a soft hiss, and sound from the meeting seemed to suddenly turn on. Jenette curled back to the doorway.
Got it. There was a crystal cell powering the enchantment
. Jenette held out her hands to reveal the crushed powdery remains.

“Nice work,” said Oliver.

Jenette slipped around his shoulders.
See how handy I can be?

“You guys need a moment alone?” Dean whispered, elbowing Oliver in the shoulder.

“Shut up, both of you,” Oliver hissed, feeling a rush of frustration. “Come on, quick.”

They slipped in along the back wall and listened.

“The Forsaken Legion will not be forgotten!” Lythia called, her fist raised like she was some kind of revolutionary. This made the crowd respond with shouts, growls and hisses of approval. “The important thing,” she continued, “is that everyone be ready to act when the time comes. There are only a few more days. We have to be prepared.”

Another figure stood up from the front row. A human, and Oliver knew him at once.

“Dude,” whispered Dean. “What’s he doing here?”

Oliver just shook his head as Braiden Lang, the leader of the Brotherhood of the Fallen addressed the crowd. The Brotherhood was sworn to protect the Gate, and had at one time sworn to slay Oliver. “Our plan for seizing the Transmitter is in place,” Braiden called. “Everyone knows their role. They won’t be expecting us.”

“They’ve never thought of us before!” someone shouted from the crowd. Others murmured in agreement. Oliver thought the voice sounded familiar, and then he saw that the speaker was Calyssa Welch, Berthold’s mother. Berthold was there beside her. His father, too.

Oliver spied other familiar faces. “Um, Dean,” he said, “Autumn’s here.”

“What?” Dean followed Oliver’s pointing to where she stood along the wall. “Uh boy,” said Dean. Then, he added, “What is this group?”

“No clue,” said Oliver. He couldn’t imagine what all these different groups might have in common.

“You’ll receive final instructions in the coming days,” Lythia told the crowd.

The shouts of approval grew louder, and then someone called out: “And what about the demon?”

“Leave that to me,” said Lythia. “And don’t worry, when it happens, you’ll all get to watch.”

“Does she mean Illisius?” Dean whispered. “How is Lythia going to take on—”

Someone’s coming!
Jenette hissed.

Oliver heard the footsteps, too. Rushing down the hallway. A tall woman burst into the theater, glancing around, confused, likely wondering where the barrier was. Oliver saw the scar on her cheek; she was Braiden’s chief lieutenant in the Brotherhood.

She shouted over the crowd. “Half-Light is here!”

The room erupted in confusion and panic.

“Everybody out!” Lythia called. She hurried off the side of the stage. Vampires leapt to the walls and levitated to the ceiling, escaping via sewer pipes and ducts that stuck out here and there. Zombies and humans rushed for the passageways on either side of the stage.

“Which way?” said Dean.

Oliver looked around at the crowds. Any way would take too long—

Hang on
, said Jenette, wrapping her arms around Dean and Oliver’s waists. She pulled them backward, out of the world, into the foggy gray of the Shoals, where they were greeted by the sound of waves and the smell of salt.

Hey, guys
. Oliver turned to see Nathan floating quickly toward them.
What’s going on?
he asked.

That’s what we were trying to figure out,
Oliver replied, hating that it was his fault that the meeting was ending before they could figure out what it was for.

Through the window, they saw Half-Light arrive, and it wasn’t just one agent, it was an entire team. They burst into the room, their long black coats trailing behind them, led by Sebastian’s former coworkers, Leah and Yasmin. A black-robed Reader followed them, the demon’s single luminous white eye sweeping the area.

“No sign of Nocturne,” called Leah, reading a glowing crystal that flashed through the rainbow spectrum in her hand.

“I thought you said we had him?” Yasmin called. She sounded on edge.

“We did,” said Leah. “But he’s gone now.”