Harley Merlin 11: Finch Merlin and the Lost Map Page 11

  He stole it from Mom. I swallowed my anger.

  Finally, he removed a doll. Not one of the raggedy, stitched-up Voodoo dolls from pop culture. This one was eerily realistic. It looked just like her. My mom. Her hair looked like a lock of my mom’s real hair. Her face had been painstakingly painted, her lips the same shade I remembered her wearing on dates with Dad. And she wore a smaller version of the cardigan he’d removed from the box.

  “What language is that?” I had to distract myself.

  “It is an older form of Bamanankan, spoken by the West African tribes who taught him to do this,” Erebus replied, his eyes shining.

  “You want to stop drooling on me?”

  He sighed, ignoring me. “It’s a thing of beauty, it really is.”

  Wyatt continued to speak. One by one, he placed the items from the box into the silver bowl. The flames twisted and turned around each object, devouring them one by one. For a split second, in those flames, I could’ve sworn I saw my mom. Younger, dancing inside the fire, her laughter echoing beneath the crackle and spit of the flames. That was when it dawned on me. This spell didn’t just kill the soul, it captured it, too. Had Wyatt trapped part of her soul in that doll for all these years?

  The lights in the apartment dimmed, that reddish hue turning almost black as Wyatt’s chants grew louder. Every hair on my body stood to attention. Scary didn’t cover it. It was like shadows came from the darkness, slithering across the floor and the walls toward the bowl. I could feel them, snaking over me to reach that pot of Voodoo.

  Erebus, meanwhile, had turned borderline manic. A frightening grin was fixed on his face, and his eyes were like saucers. He might as well have been rubbing his hands together. Maybe he’ll snap out of it once this is over.

  The doll exploded. The fragments burst upward and hovered in the air. Hungry flames spiraled out of the bowl and enveloped the fragments until nothing remained. No ashes, no melted strands of hair, nothing.

  As soon as it finished devouring the doll, the fire sucked inward before exploding in a spray of red that splattered across my face. I was too shocked to scream, or punch Wyatt in the nose.

  “There, it’s done. Happy now?” Wyatt wiped the splatter off his face with the back of his sleeve. Sweat glistened on his forehead, mixing with… whatever had just hit us.

  “How do I know it worked?” I found my voice quickly enough.

  “I can indulge you there,” Erebus chimed in. He still sounded manic.

  I turned to him. “What do you mean?”

  He delved into the pocket of his snazzy suit and took out a mirror.

  “What is this, a Disney movie?” I frowned at him, unimpressed.

  “Behold.” He passed his hand across the mirror. An image appeared. Mom, in the living room of our apartment, waking up slowly. She held her palm to her forehead, looking around in a daze. Just then, Inez came into the frame—we’d been gone so long, with all the portaling, that she must’ve already gotten home from school. I couldn’t hear what they said, but I didn’t need to. Mom immediately burst into tears and pulled Inez into a tight hug, clinging to her for dear life. Inez hugged her back twice as hard, tears streaming down her cheeks, too. Mom’s mouth moved, and Inez nodded, her little face scrunching up with total, overwhelming happiness.

  “Is this a trick?” I whispered past the lump in my throat.

  Erebus smiled. “You’ll soon see for yourself. This is no trick. Even if it were, you made your promise to me—you bound yourself in blood. You have no choice but to follow me.”

  “Is it a trick or not?!” I rasped, my own tears about ready to fall.

  His expression softened slightly. “What reason do I have to lie to you? To get you to do my bidding? It’s not in my nature to force people to my will. I prefer deals, and I have made one with you. This is my side of the bargain. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  The tears came. It looked so real. Mom holding Inez like they’d been separated for years. Inez burying her face in Mom’s shoulder and gripping with all her might. I wanted to be there so badly. I wanted to throw my arms around them both and never let go.

  Frustration, relief, happiness, sadness… it hit me in a tidal wave. I could only imagine what Mom was feeling. How much would she remember? Judging by her heaving shoulders, she remembered a lot.

  Mom… I’m coming. We had her back! It was almost too much. All these years, hoping and praying for an answer, trying everything on Earth to fix her. And I’d done it. I could barely stand as my body struggled to cope. My hands shook violently as big, ugly sobs wheezed out of me.

  Erebus put his hand on my back and returned the mirror to his pocket so I couldn’t see Mom and Inez anymore. “You can have your moment later. We aren’t done here.”

  “What?” I peered up through wet eyes. “No, bring them back! Show them again!”

  He shifted his focus back to Wyatt, completely ignoring my pleas. “It’s time for you to die.”

  Wyatt stepped back. “You can’t kill me. You promised.”

  “Correction, Kenzie promised. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion she never intended to let you go. Isn’t that right?” He shot me a strange, dark smile. “Personally, I really did think about it. But I still feel like killing you.” He took a step toward Wyatt, his face twisted with malevolence.

  “I want him to rot in Purgatory!” I yelped, dragging Erebus back. Death was too good for Wyatt. He deserved to waste away in prison so he’d have to think about everything that had put him there. I wanted that to be his punishment, not a quick snuffing out.

  Erebus threw me off. But my actions had given Wyatt the split second he needed. His hand shot out and plucked a cluster of bronze orbs from the dusty box where he’d kept my mom’s doll. Before Erebus or I could do anything, he hurled them at us. The orbs blew up in our faces, filling the apartment with sour, stinging smoke.

  Sparks of light shot through the dense smoke, but I had no clue whom they belonged to. All I could do was wave my hands in front of me and try to dissipate the smoke.

  A rush of Air tore through the apartment, clearing the smoke in one skilled move. Blinking the last of it from my eyes, I looked around. Wyatt lay dead on the ground, his gaze blank and empty. Erebus, however, was also on the ground, coughing and groaning. I ran to him and skidded to his side.

  “Are you okay?” I tried to help him up, but he flicked me aside.

  “I am fine.” He got up by himself and dusted off his suit.

  I stared at him, concerned. “Are you hurt?”

  “Me? Of course not. Children of Chaos don’t get hurt by mere mortals.” A subtle wince gave him away. He looked exhausted. Sweat dripped down his face.

  I looked at Wyatt’s dead body. It wasn’t what I’d wanted. I’d wanted him to rot in prison. By the looks of it, he’d wind up rotting here instead. I felt sorry for the poor sucker who might find him. Even interdimensional bubbles wouldn’t hide the smell forever.

  “Hey, you said it yourself—you’ve got limitations in this body. You can admit Wyatt got one over on you. It’s only me here. Who am I going to tell? And it’s not as if Wyatt’s going to be saying anything anymore.” I intended to be comforting, but Erebus didn’t take it that way.

  “What did you say to me?” His eyes burned with rage.

  I fumbled for the right words. “I’m just saying, humans are weak. We make mistakes. That’s what makes us human.”

  He waved his hand, and a portal tore open beside him. Without a word, he grabbed the scruff of my hoodie and dragged me through it so hard I thought he might strangle me. I half expected to step into his otherworld, where he could punish me for running my stupid mouth. Instead, I stepped into my apartment in San Diego.

  Mom and Inez sat hugging on the couch, just as the mirror had shown. Their heads snapped up as I entered, both of them confused.

  “Mom!” I sprinted to her and wrapped them both in my arms.

  “Kenzie.” Mom hugged me back. “My sweet, sweet girl. Ther
e you are. Let me get a look at you.”

  I shook my head. “I need to hold you for a minute, make sure you’re real.”

  “Of course I’m real.” She chuckled against my cheek. “I’ve missed you so much. I don’t know where I’ve been, but I’ve missed you… both of you. I keep trying to remember, but… it’s all so fuzzy. It keeps coming and going in waves.”

  “Don’t worry about that now.” I gripped her tighter. “You’re back, and you’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

  “Do you know where I’ve be—”

  Mom’s words died on her lips. One moment she was right there in my arms. The next she was gone. I reeled in horror, turning to Inez. But she wasn’t there anymore, either. Frantically, I patted the couch, as if that’d make them reappear.

  Erebus cleared his throat. He stood by the kitchen table with a blue glass bottle in his hands. White light churned inside it.

  “What did you do, you son of a bitch?” I glared at him, tears running down my face.

  “Call this my insurance policy,” he replied calmly. “Only I can let them out. This is djinn magic—if anyone tries to get them out, or if this bottle is broken, they both die.”

  “Why?” I seethed.

  He smiled bitterly. “Let this be a lesson to you, to shut up and do your job. Never doubt my strength again, or I will smash it myself.” He set the bottle on the kitchen table, dangerously close to the edge.

  He might not have been as powerful in this form, whether he wanted to admit it or not, but it hadn’t taken anything away from his vindictive streak. The one he was so famous for. I’d overstepped a line, and it didn’t matter if I’d meant to. He was punishing me for it. I’d never hated him more. There was cruelty, and then there was “tearing a daughter away from her mom minutes after she’d been cured” cruelty. He had it down to a fine freaking art.

  “Something to say?” Erebus taunted.

  I clenched my jaw. “No.”

  “Good, then get started. I have a few things I need you to get to Finch, as quickly as possible. The clock is ticking…” He gave the bottle a tiny push, bringing it closer to the edge of the table. “For everyone in this equation.”

  Fourteen

  Finch

  What a glorious day to have no idea what I’m doing.

  Stuffed full of goat cheese and thick, buttery toast from the monastery’s Michelin-star monks, I walked alone to my second trial toward map-making. I’d managed to dart back to my room before things kicked off, making an excuse about needing to meditate and get in the right mindset. Very Zen, very un-Finch. Oliver had appreciated it, though.

  “Mate, it’s so important to sharpen your mind. Nourish your body, nourish your mind, and the rest will take care of itself.” Those were his parting words of wisdom to me. I wasn’t about to start up a fanfare, throw a friendship party, and buy matching shell bracelets, but I felt the frost thawing a bit. The Shining Twins had even passed me the salt when I’d asked, instead of pretending I hadn’t spoken. So, it was all good. You know, aside from the threat of Etienne killing me in my sleep, or in one of the upcoming trials.

  I’d gone back to my room in the hopes that Erebus might show up for a little pep-talk about what I was doing here. I’d waited as long as I could, but I didn’t want to be late to the second trial. Breaking into the place had been the first, so I guessed it had to be classed as the second one in our required quartet.

  Where are you, Erebus? I stalked back along the corridors, peeved that he hadn’t even bothered to check in.

  His continued absence nagged at the back of my mind. This wasn’t like him. He loved summoning me and leaving warnings when I least expected them, but my bathroom mirror remained unfrosted and my windows had yet to receive a bloody handprint. Usually, that would’ve been a comfort, but I started to wonder if the Great and Powerful Erebus wasn’t so great and powerful in his shiny new body. Which, oddly, made me feel about ten times more alone and on edge than I already did. A reliability came with Erebus’s constant harassment. Without it, I was just… drifting out here.

  You know what would put the icing on this cupcake of anxiety? Davin. I hadn’t been able to get that colossal turd out of my head after eavesdropping on Etienne last night. It wasn’t like I expected to turn a corner and crash into him. It was just the idea that he could show up and try to shove his way in that made me want to take my chances and throw myself off the island cliff. I was a good swimmer. I’d make it.

  Were they still friends? That hadn’t been clear. I’d sensed loathe-love vibes from Etienne, with an emphasis on the loathe. Which begged the question: What had they fallen out over? Would their past disagreement be enough to keep Davin away? Man, I hoped so. Sure, I wanted him dead, but alone on this island with no backup, trying to kill him solo, wouldn’t have been my smartest idea. Especially not if he had a reluctant friend in Etienne Biset.

  A few minutes later, following the instructions I’d hastily written down on my napkin, I pushed through a blue door and found myself in a courtyard. A real one, with the interdimensional pocket thrumming overhead. The warm Greek sun beat down on yet another beautiful, half-naked deity in the center of the courtyard, with water spewing out of a delicately held jug. Seriously, this monastery should’ve come with at least a PG-13 rating.

  Up ahead sat a row of chocolate box outbuildings, with lemon trees on either side of every door and hanging baskets adorning the white stone walls. I checked my napkin. Trial number two would take place behind door number four. I hurried across the courtyard and opened up the door to find… a pottery studio.

  Huh. Plot twist. I’m actually here to make a wonky mug for Erebus.

  The place had a very calming energy. An indoor fountain bubbled peacefully. Kilns stood at the back of the studio, and huge crates filled with reddish clay were stacked against the far wall. On a few small tables nearest to me lay every pottery tool imaginable.

  The others sat behind pottery wheels, and I saw one spare for me. They shifted on their stools like awkward kids on the first day of school, exchanging confused looks.

  “I’m Finch, and I’ll be your rep for today.” I broke the nervous silence and grinned at my new classmates. “We’re starting with pottery at ten—please try not to reenact that scene from Ghost. It just makes everyone uncomfortable. After that, we’ll do a little aquarobics in the pool to get those limbs loosened up, then a casual game of shuffleboard, and finish off with afternoon tea in the orangery.”

  I waited for them to laugh. Instead, their eyes darted past my shoulder, and my heart sank. He’s behind me, isn’t he?

  “Very amusing.” Etienne stepped through the doorway. “Why don’t you take your seat so we can start? I wouldn’t want to keep you from aquarobics.”

  Wishing the ground would swallow me, I crossed to the last pottery wheel and sat down. Melody covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she stifled her laughter. At least someone found it funny.

  “Are we really doing pottery?” Shailene didn’t sound too impressed.

  “Yeah, what does pottery have to do with map-making?” Fay nodded like one of those bobbleheads.

  “I’m glad you asked.” Etienne took up his position at the front of the class. “However, before I answer that, please collect your clay, water, and tools. I will explain the rest once you have everything you need.”

  We did as we were told. Naturally, Shailene and Fay made a run for the clay, as if that would ensure they got the premium stuff. It looked like a circuit class, the two of them dashing from the crates, to the tool tables, to the ceramic pots of water, and back to their seats in record time. Since Etienne didn’t have a stopwatch, I guessed we weren’t being judged on how quickly we could obey his instructions.

  Back in our seats, our tools collected, we waited for Etienne to give us more tasty tidbits.

  “The second trial in your journey toward map-making is a vital one,” he began. “A mapmaker must be able to perform, even in the most adverse conditio
ns. Your lives might depend on it.”

  “Map-making is dangerous?” Oliver asked the dumb question. I was secretly glad, considering I’d been about to ask the same thing.

  Etienne gave him a hard look. “It is more dangerous than you could know. Imagine freezing to death on an expedition in Antarctica, with nothing but your map-making skills to get you to safety. Shivering, your extremities frostbitten, your body so cold you can barely speak, you know that all of your colleagues will die if you don’t draw the right map. What do you do?”

  Oliver looked sheepish. “Learn how to map-make in any condition?”

  “Very clever.” Etienne smirked. “Map-making is not simply about making maps, though many think so. They are usually the ones who fail. I discovered the craft during a mission to a tiny island off the Irish coast. The island was hidden from sight and near impossible to sense with magic. I’d been instructed to find my target, and it took months of relentless work.

  “When I found him, I took the time to speak with him. After spending so much effort tracking him down, I admired him too much to just off him and go home. He told me he had dedicated his life to finding the lost island of Avalon so he could restore Arthur’s crown to his family, the Pendragons. It’s supposed to have remarkable healing properties, and his wife suffered from a terminal illness. I realized then that a rival family had sent me to kill him so he wouldn’t get his hands on the artifact.”

  “The Le Fays?” I interjected.

  Etienne peered at me with curiosity. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I suppose it makes sense for you to know that, considering your historical ties to those families.”

  “Did you kill him?” Oliver leaned over his pottery station.

  “I am getting to that,” Etienne said. “This man mentioned that he studied at this monastery, only to fail the trials. But that hadn’t dampened his resolve. I stayed with him for a week, learning of map-making and how it could help a person find what they most desired. Hidden places, hidden objects, and secret realms. By this time, I’d grown tired of my job and the endless misery of it. I took no pleasure or pride in it anymore.”