I nodded. “Just tired.”
Yeah… tired of all this uncertainty. Tired of Erebus. Tired of it all.
Twenty-Five
Kenzie
I snapped out of my latest Morph. Finch was on his third and last day of the poison trial, with twelve hours to the midnight deadline. I’d watched him from afar, zipping back and forth between my apartment and Greece. Now that I had a connection to the African gray, it was easy to slide back into the mind of the bird. But, right now, I needed a breather. I didn’t want to draw attention to him, not with a spy in the midst. Any weird activity might’ve encouraged the spy to strike.
Still, it sucked that I’d had to make it look like I’d left him on his own. With no news to give him, watching had been my only option. I’d even been there as he slept, guarding him. If anyone had tried to slip in and hurt him, I’d have raised the damn alarm. But no one had. Plus, he hadn’t slept much.
“How is he?” Ryann was obviously done with subtext as she crossed the apartment. With so much at stake, and us on a strict deadline, Finch was the primary concern. I was just the mouthpiece—for information we didn’t have yet.
“Really tired,” I replied.
“And you?”
I smiled grimly. “Really tired. Tell me you’ve got some good news. We really need it right now. He’s failing on his own. This task is freaking impossible. Etienne hasn’t given them any clues or anything; they’re all failing.”
She whipped out her phone. “Well then, you came back at the right time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m waiting on a call from one of the San Fran chemists,” she replied.
I stared at the phone. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. You sure they’re going to call?” The time zones were killing me. Being ten hours behind Greece made things a lot more difficult. If we had to wait until a decent hour in the morning, Finch would lose another seven hours, at least. Hours we couldn’t afford to lose.
She nodded confidently. “I spoke to her half an hour ago and she was still hard at work with her team. They haven’t slept much, I don’t think.”
“Neither has Finch.” I stretched out my stiff limbs.
“He’s not sleeping?” A worried frown furrowed her forehead.
“Nope. He pulled an all-nighter, and he’s pretty much on the edge of insanity. I heard him singing ‘The Final Countdown,’ if you want an indicator of his mental state.” I tried to muster a smile but couldn’t. This wasn’t funny in the slightest. “He’s not doing too hot, Ryann. This task has him stressed to his limits.”
“I’ll see if I can get an update.” Ryann tapped furiously at her phone, jabbing at the screen.
“Whoa there, don’t crack the damn thing. We need it.” I was only half teasing.
She smiled nervously. “Sorry. I guess Finch isn’t the only one stressed.”
“They don’t know what this is for, do they—the chemists?” I didn’t know everything she’d been up to while I’d been out Morphing.
She shook her head. “No, they think it’s for a paper I’m writing on the use of poisons that’s going to be published by the California Mage Council. I asked them to put a rush on it because it’s going to publication tonight, with the promise that they’d be credited for all the chemistry work.”
“You don’t think they’re going to be pissed off when it doesn’t come out?”
“I’ll just tell them I handed it in too late.” She shrugged. “Who knows, maybe it will end up in some publication.”
I smiled at her. “Looks like you’ve picked up some of Finch’s more devious qualities. Such a bad influence.”
“Hey, these are all mine,” she replied. “Sometimes, in law, you have to play a little dirty to get justice for those who deserve it. This is no different.”
“Tough girl Ryann might just be the best one yet.” I sank back into the couch and wished I had time to drift off. My body ached all over, and my brain… was pretty much a write-off at this point. Spending so much time inside different creatures wasn’t good for anyone.
The phone rang, and Ryann swiped the screen violently. “Marisol?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” a voice replied, on speaker. “Sorry to call so late, but I guessed you were still up, since you’ve been texting back.”
“I’m not sure I’ll get any sleep until I’ve got everything together for the editors,” Ryann replied, cool as a cucumber. I knew there had to be a reason “lawyers” and “liars” sounded so similar.
“Yeah, same over here. We’re so eager to get this in on time. It’ll be a huge benefit for getting subsidies and grants. Getting money out of the covens for chemistry is tough. It’d be easier to turn lead into gold.” The chemist, Marisol, cackled like she’d made the joke of the century. Ryann gave her a polite chuckle in response.
“Does that mean we’re on target?” Ryann pressed, still keeping it chill.
“Pretty much, yeah. I’ve got a team of three, and we’ve been doing live tests since you called yesterday—honestly, I’ve got a spreadsheet as long as my leg with all the experiments we’ve done. It’s taken a lot of effort and resources, but we think we’ve finally cracked it,” Marisol replied.
Ryann glanced at me, an anxious smile forming. With that sort of manpower, or womanpower, they’d clearly been able to tweak quantities better and faster than Finch. Plus, they already had an in-depth knowledge of chemistry.
“Can you tell me what the formula is?” Ryann asked, nodding at the notepad on the table. I leapt to it, snatching up a pen.
“I’ll just attach it in an email, though I might have to send it in the morning when I’ve had some sleep. I think I left my brain in the lab,” Marisol said. In fairness, she did sound tired.
Ryann paused. “Yeah, that’s totally fine, but would you be able to tell me the formula now, so I can jot it down? I’ll need to hand a list to the editors so they can double-check they get the spellings and quantities right. Not all of them are used to scientific stuff, so the sooner they can have the information, the better.”
“Oh… right, of course. I hadn’t thought about that. I forget that not everyone’s a chemistry nerd.” Marisol barked a laugh. “Do you have a pen handy?”
“Yep, I’m good to go.” Ryann winked at me.
“Okay, so everything has to be mixed in this order. It’s six drops of cyanide, four of arsenic, seven of black mamba venom, one of cottonmouth venom, two of cone snail venom, five of box jellyfish nematocysts, five of ricin, two of tetrodotoxin, eight of batrachotoxin, three of Leviathan blood, one of Charybdis blood, and one of Scylla blood. Finally, ten drops of sea serpent excretion. When it’s mixed, you can add any quantity you like to the soil—more means a big tree, less means a smaller tree.” Marisol went quiet for a moment. “Did you get all of that?”
Ryann looked at me, and I nodded. I’d written it down, just as she’d said it.
“Yeah, I got all that. Thank you so much, Marisol. I can’t wait to see the article published,” Ryann said. “And, just to be clear, what did this formula do when you tested it?”
“Something extraordinary,” Marisol whispered, as if it were a secret. “It seems to speed up development, even though it’s formed from so many poisonous substances. We now have a weeping orange willow crushed up against the ceiling of the lab, after you told us to bring a sapling in. Actually, we were hoping to call it the ‘Tree of Life’ formula, if that’s okay with you.”
Ryann grinned excitedly. “Of course, that’s no problem.”
“Would you mind if I continue looking into it? My team and I are very eager to see what else this formula can do.” Marisol sounded just as excited.
“Sure, knock yourselves out,” Ryann replied, punching the air silently. “And thank you again for the quick turnaround. I know it hasn’t been easy. Next time I see you, pizza’s on me, okay?”
Marisol chuckled. “We’ll hold you to that!”
“Okay then, I’ll let you sleep, and yo
u can send that email in the morning.” Ryann had already started dancing a jig.
“Speak to you soon. And thank you for this opportunity.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Ryann replied. “Speak to you soon.” She swiped the “end call” button and did a rock-star slide across the kitchen floor.
I jumped up, forgetting how tired I was. “So, we really got it?”
“We got it!” Ryann whooped, shimmying and shaking.
I laughed and pulled her to her feet, and the two of us burst into a dance around the kitchen table. I may have twerked, but that’d stay between the two of us. Ryann went wild, giving it her best moves, waggling her phone over her head like a trophy. We’d just won the big leagues.
“We can bring our boy home!” Ryann sank down onto a stool, howling at the ceiling like a wolf.
“You bet your sweet ass!” I sat down beside her, grinning like an idiot. “I’ve been freaking out so hard. He’s got like twelve hours left, and he’s totally clueless.”
“And now we’ve got the goods to get him through!”
I sighed with relief. “I never listened in chemistry class. I don’t know my periodic table from my elbow. Man, I could kiss those nerds.”
Ryann nodded. “I know what you mean. I just want to smother them with love, and then smother Finch, and then smother you, and maybe even Erebus.”
I shot her a mischievous look. “I’m sure Finch wouldn’t mind a bit of smothering from you.”
“Not this again.” She rolled her eyes. “Erebus doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve been thinking about what he said a lot, and I’ve come to the conclusion that he was just trying to worry us. He probably wanted us to think he’s got some leverage on Finch when he doesn’t. There’s nothing more to it.”
“What about what I know?” I smirked.
“And what’s that?” She arched an eyebrow.
“That he’s crushing on you, and you’re secretly crushing on him.”
She shook her head defiantly. “You’ve been in that bird brain too long. Finch doesn’t think about me that way—he’s been through a lot. I doubt he ever wants to fall in love again, after what happened last time.”
“What if the right girl came along?” I nudged her arm.
“Then I’d be happy for him.” Her face tightened subtly.
“What if the right girl came along at the wrong time?” I poked the bear some more.
Ryann sighed. “If you’re talking about me, you’re barking up the wrong tree. He’s a friend. I’m his friend. That’s it.”
“You just did a power-slide across the kitchen floor. Not what just a friend would do.” She could deny it all she liked, but she still showed the signs of someone who cared a lot more than she let on.
“You twerked,” Ryann pointed out. “Look, I’m thrilled we’ve cracked this, and I’m excited that we helped Finch. It’s like finishing an essay at the eleventh hour, just in time to hand it in.” She stared down at the table. “I mean, come on, this entire world owes everything to Finch—it’s nice to pay some of that back.”
“What if you knew he liked you?” I had to ask.
She shrugged. “It wouldn’t change anything. I’m with Adam, and I love him. I can see a future with him.”
“You can’t with Finch?” For some weird reason, a lump formed in my throat. A secondhand sadness for my pal.
“I… told you I don’t think of him like that,” she replied after a moment. “And Finch is hardly ever around. He’s always away on missions, and even when he’s at the SDC, he’s in his own world half the time. Adam is… stable. He’s sweet, and he’s reliable, and he’s constant. That’s husband material.”
“And if Finch’s missions end after this?” My voice cracked. Get it together, Kenzie! Geez.
Her gaze hardened. “I love Adam. I know Adam. I could try for years with Finch, to get to know him better, and never scratch the surface. I know it’s not his fault, and I’m aware I sound like a total bitch, but I like what I can understand. And I don’t understand Finch.”
Maybe you should try harder. I couldn’t bring myself to say it. It wasn’t Ryann’s fault. I knew what she meant. Finch was a tough nut to crack. I just wanted him to find some happiness after so much misery and struggle.
“Adam must be a hell of a guy,” I said instead.
Ryann offered a small smile. “He really is.” She paused. “Finch is, too, but he’s not my guy.”
“No… I guess not.”
“Do you have someone?” Ryann held my gaze.
I snorted. “Me? God, no. Me and guys are like oil and water—we don’t mix. I’ve been around too many and heard too much of what they brag about. It’s ruined guys for me.”
She chuckled. “Maybe you haven’t found the right one.”
“Adam got a younger brother?”
“Sadly not.”
I nodded. “Well, since my love life is hopeless, we should get this show on the road. I won’t get a boyfriend out of it, but I’ll get my friend back, and that’s enough for me.” I glanced at the couch. “So, as Finch would say—it’s Morphin’ time.”
Twenty-Six
Finch
Mr. Abara all but frog-marched me to my room, since I’d turned into the walking dead. I’d been on guard the whole way, in case he tried to jump me in the corridor. But he hadn’t; he’d delivered me to my room and stopped just shy of tucking me in. That didn’t let him off the spy hook. He might’ve been biding his time, waiting for a less obvious moment to strike. Paranoia mixed with sleeplessness did not a sane Finch make.
Twenty minutes ago, I’d slumped forward on my workbench and almost sent my tree flying. Melody saved it by flinging some mad spell at it, lifting it up in a vortex of rainbow light and setting it back on the table. Naturally, Luke gave me an earful. As if I’d asked her to help me. I was grateful, sure, but I didn’t deserve a bunch of crap for her decision. Especially not from him.
After labeling me a risk, Melody and Mr. Abara had joined forces to get me to nap. And I hadn’t been about to try and say no to Mr. Abara. He could’ve slung me over his shoulder and carried me if I’d refused. He almost had. I wondered if they were trying to get me out of the way, so I’d be sure to fail and they could skip back to Davin and tell him the good news. But which one had first suggested I get some rest? My weary mind couldn’t remember. It could barely remember my own name. All this suspicion and uncertainty on no sleep was driving me mad.
So, naturally, sleep didn’t come. Evasive minx. It was like turning in for an early night, then lying in bed for hours, unable to drift off. My frustration levels peaked. Who could’ve slept, knowing they had half a day left to figure out an impossible formula?
Maybe I should bash my head against Hades to knock myself out. That way, I’d be able to sleep through the deadline. Hope was the worst part of this. That vain sliver of possibility that it could still be done. It would make the disappointment of failure hurt so much more when that axe fell.
I turned over in bed and nearly screamed at the sight before me. A massive bird had just flown into the window, banging on the glass with its beak. It took a moment for my exhausted brain to realize it was the parrot—a.k.a. Kenzie.
“Son of a nutcracker!” I hissed into my pillow. I quickly got up and let the bird in. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
The parrot cackled. “Good news! Good news! Numbskull!”
“You don’t need to keep calling me ‘numbskull.’ I know you’re talking to me.” I put my arm out, and it hopped on. “And, pardon my French, but where the hell have you been? You tell me there’s a spy, then flap off like that? Not cool, Kenzie.”
“Windbag! Good news!” the parrot croaked.
“I’m not a windbag! You abandoned me.” I pouted. “And where’d you learn a word like that? Actually, while I’m at it, how are you even speaking English? Shouldn’t you be squawking Greek?”
“Focus! Marlin!”
I s
ighed and sat on the edge of my bed. I supposed the minutia of the parrot’s linguistic skills didn’t matter. “Fine, what’s the good news? I’m guessing that’s what you’re trying to say, right?”
“Bingo! Good news!” The parrot nodded. “Formula!”
My eyes widened. “You’ve got it? Ah man, this is going to be hard, isn’t it?” Trying to decipher parrot-speak with something so specific would be a nightmare.
“Listen! Numbskull! Pen!”
“Right, a pen.” One-handed, I grabbed my chemistry notebook and pencil. I hadn’t left my notes in the lab for anyone to set their peepers on. “Okay, shoot.”
“Right order! Get it right!” the parrot chirped. “Six! Sewer snide!”
I frowned. “Huh?”
“Six! Sewer snide!”
“Six drops of cyanide?” In my sleepy state, Kenzie’s parrot-speak somehow made more sense.
“Bingo!”
I wrote it down and waited for the next linguistic challenge.
“Four! Ass lick! Seven! Black snake!”
“Okay, so that’s four drops of arsenic—at least, I hope that’s what you’re trying to say. And seven drops of black mamba venom, yes?”
The parrot nodded. “Numbskull! Good work! Pretty Polly!”
I smirked. “Thanks.”
We went on like that for at least ten minutes. As exasperated as it made me, I had to admit this was hilarious. If Erebus could’ve seen me now, he’d laugh all the way out of his skin suit.
The parrot hopped up and down my arm. “Last one! Last one!”
“Holy crap…” In my sleepy state, it only just dawned on me what this meant. This wasn’t a game, even though it’d lightened my mood a bit. After this, I’d have the friggin’ formula in my hands!
“Ten! Sea snake! Goop! Sea snake!”
I wrapped my arm around the parrot and squeezed carefully. “Ten drops of sea serpent excretion?”
“Genius! Bingo!” It cawed happily in my awkward hug.
Harley Merlin 11: Finch Merlin and the Lost Map Page 20
