Hard to Say and Harder to Hear
“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” Mrs. Lin said, looking concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call her down here?” As much as May Lin wanted to respect Fern’s wishes, she felt that Mary Lou McAllister, as Fern’s guardian, needed to hear what she was about to tell Fern.
Fern shook her head. “If we get my mom involved, she’ll stop me from going back to the zoo. She’s already super worried, and Sam and I can tell her later, after we rescue Miles and Mr. Lin.”
Mrs. Lin flinched—Fern’s words served as a reminder that her hopes of seeing her husband unharmed rested on the shoulders of the thirteen-year-old girl in front of her. Would Mary Lou, in fact, try to interfere? Normals never did understand what was at risk when it came to any Rollen-Blout dispute—their peaceful coexistence with Otherworldlies was at stake, after all.
“Please, Mrs. Lin,” Fern pleaded. “I know my mom and she won’t react well to this.” In truth, Fern was still confused about how much the Commander actually already knew and had kept to herself about Haryle Laffar. What’s more, during the trip, things had been awkward between her and her mother—Fern didn’t want to feel the Commander’s pitying eyes on her as Mrs. Lin explained about her birth father.
Finally Mrs. Lin agreed to keep the group as it was.
Mrs. Lin sat in the chair at the table closest to the buffet tables. Sam, Lindsey, and Fern gathered in the seats around her. Except for them (and the stowaway curled up underneath their table—Candace had chosen well), the banquet room was empty. Mrs. Lin and the three St. Gregory’s students had picked up all the leftover plates and cups and disposed of them in the trash containers.
From her position underneath the table, Candace could sense Fern’s nervous energy—Fern’s Vans-clad left foot was bouncing up and down so quickly, Candace couldn’t look at it without feeling dizzy. She also noticed that Sam and Lindsey were perched on the edge of their seats.
Mrs. Lin began. “You will, no doubt, have questions. And I will try to answer them as best I can . . . but I ask that you let me finish what I have to say first. I’m not sure how much time we’ll have.”
Looking down in front of her, Fern traced a pattern on the dark tablecloth with her index finger.
“Fern?” Sam said. He tried to figure out where she was looking.
Mrs. Lin peered at Fern. “Are you ready?” As soon as she said it, Mrs. Lin realized it was an unfair question. Fern would never be ready for what she was about to hear.
“I’m not sure what Mary Lou has told you about your mother, “ Mrs. Lin began, “but you probably know that Phoebe grew up in San Juan Capistrano and went to St. Gregory’s, just like you. She was, by all accounts, a free spirit . . . made restless by our quiet town. She left when she turned eighteen and traveled the country for a number of years. Along the way she met your father, Haryle, and supposedly fell in love with him. You must know, though, that your mother was raised a Rollen—she was raised to respect Normals and the powers she was given—but when she was with Haryle Laffar, I’m afraid all of that changed.
“I don’t know how else to say this except that Haryle Laffar is the worst kind of Otherworldly. He’s ruthless, he’s brutal, and he’s killed many, all in the name of adding to his power and increasing his following. When a group of Rollens nearly killed him to stop him from destroying those who opposed him, he disappeared for some time. But he reemerged, shortly before he took up with your mother.
“The Merriams were quiet and decent people. They didn’t live far from us in San Juan. One morning, they came to our house after receiving word that their daughter was living with Haryle. They begged for our help to talk some sense into her . . . to see if we couldn’t snap her out of whatever spell she was under. I agreed to try, with another Otherworldly, who used to be friends with Phoebe—Alistair Kimble.
“We found Phoebe living with Haryle in a sprawling compound called the Outlands, north of San Francisco— in a town named Sausalito. Haryle had assembled a terrifying mix of Otherworldly criminals and sociopaths there with promises of building a Blout empire. One of those people was his brother, Vlad.”
Fern let out an audible gasp but remembered her pledge not to talk and let Mrs. Lin continue.
“The Laffar brothers were constantly at odds because they disagreed on methods to defeat the Rollens. But Phoebe never belonged there at all—to this day I don’t believe she was there of her own free will. Much like Vlad, Haryle Laffar can control minds, and no one was ever sure what he’d done to Phoebe to convince her to live with those people.
“Alistair and I waited until we had an opportunity to talk to Phoebe alone. We finally found her wandering in the woods around the Outlands one afternoon, and she was clearly very upset. She kept saying she had to leave . . . that things had changed. We suggested that she come with us, that we would protect her, but her reasoning had become clouded and she no longer trusted us. She ran back to the Outlands and the very next day, we learned she was missing.
“Of course, Haryle was not used to losing what he viewed as his 'property.’ He searched for your mother far and wide. He wanted her back. Phoebe knew he would not rest until he found her again. Eventually, Haryle did find your mother. He tracked her to an artichoke farm near El Centro in the southern part of California. Your mother was living there peacefully with a family who had befriended her.
“And when he found her”—Mrs. Lin paused for a moment—“he killed her.”
Mrs. Lin’s eyes pooled, and it was clear that she spoke the words with great difficulty. She reached across the table and took the trembling hand of Fern McAllister in her own. Fern let out a small, muffled howl. Sam looked at his sister. The pain in her eyes spread to his own. He wanted to cover her ears. Actually, he wanted to reach inside them and pull out what had just been said so that she could unhear it.
“Fern,” Mrs. Lin said, taking Fern’s other hand. “Your mother left the compound because she learned she was pregnant with you. When she learned she was pregnant, something inside her snapped back into place . . . she realized she had to leave Haryle. When she sensed that Haryle was close to finding her, she gave you to Alistair Kimble, the one person on earth she trusted at the time, and told him that she wanted Mary Lou to have you. Phoebe began protecting you from the moment she knew you existed— before you were even born.”
Mrs. Lin paused. She took a deep breath. Lindsey, Sam, and Fern were too shocked to speak.
“No one should have to hear such things about her father. But your father is one man and only one small part of you. The most important parts—what makes you you—are the people who love you. You must always remember that your mother died protecting you. Because Phoebe hid you from him, Laffar doesn’t know he has a daughter. And what he has done has nothing to do with you. Even in the short time you’ve lived, you have been responsible for inspiring such love. You are loved. By Phoebe, by Mary Lou, and—“
“By us.” Lindsey looked at Sam expectantly. He nodded his head in agreement. He was at the age where he was embarrassed to say such things out loud, especially to his twin sister. But he was glad that Lindsey had said it for him. Lindsey tried to steady her voice and say something else, but as she thought of her missing father, the tears returned.
Under the table, Candace squirmed. She wished that she had not left her notebook upstairs in her backpack. What she had heard was shocking, dramatic, and—if the words hadn’t come from the trustworthy Mrs. Lin’s own lips— unbelievable. As soon as Candace got back to room 723, she would write everything down. Then she would work on figuring out what in heaven’s name an Otherworldly was.
In the limited time they had left before the hotel staff came in to rearrange the banquet room, Mrs. Lin explained that she could not possibly allow Fern to go unaccompanied to the place where Mr. Lin and Miles were imprisoned. She underscored the fact that should Haryle Laffar find out that Fern was his child, he might try to kidnap or harm her. She would need assistance.
Fe
rn nodded her head, showing agreement with Mrs. Lin’s plan, though in truth, as soon as she’d heard the full story about her birth mother and this man, Haryle Laffar, she made up her mind differently. Something in her snapped into place—her father had killed her mother and planned on killing Miles. The idea that stopping Haryle Laffar was her destiny stirred deep within her. If she focused on stopping him, Fern could block out the horrible fact that this evil man was her father.
Mrs. Lin wanted to go with Fern to provide protection. But Fern had learned in the past few months that she had to protect herself. Tonight, she resolved, she would teleport to Miles.
Alone.
Today was different. Miles had spent an unusual amount of time fully conscious, hearing no wails from the Quetzals. Silver Tooth had been underground for most of the day, and Miles was finally getting a chance to study the man’s face and demeanor.
He didn’t like what he was seeing.
“Why didn’t your little friend come visit you last night?”
Haryle Laffar had both his hands wrapped around the bars of Miles Zapo’s cage. His hands and face were dirty with soot, and he had black crud underneath his fingernails. Miles was finally conscious enough to notice that his captor was wearing a dark blue bandanna over his shoulder-length hair. Now that he’d gotten a closer look at Silver Tooth, Miles realized that he looked a lot like what he imagined a Hell’s Angel might look like—except scarier.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Miles said, straightening his glasses. His ripped Minnesota Twins cap was askew on his head and he didn’t bother fixing it.
“Look, kid,” Laffar said, “either you start leveling with me or I bring my slimy friends in here and start them howling.” Laffar poked his finger through the bars and snarled at Miles. Miles backed up as far as he could in his cage. His whole body was shaking.
“So far, I’ve only cranked up the volume halfway, but if I really encourage their wailing, the effect on you will be permanent. You don’t want to be a vegetable for the rest of your life, do you?”
Miles Zapo had no idea whether or not Silver Tooth was lying. From what he’d seen so far, though, he figured the man was capable of anything. Miles had listened as Laffar ruthlessly interrogated a man imprisoned in the next room, beating him until the man could no longer answer his questions. Though Miles could not see what had happened from his vantage point in the other room, he was sure that Laffar had rendered the man unconscious. Every so often, the man would moan and Laffar would get up from his chair in the corner of the room, where he seemed to be studying a map of some kind, and go into the outer room. There would be a loud whap, which was what Miles could only assume was Laffar’s fist hitting the man’s skull, and then the moaning would stop.
Once more Laffar addressed Miles. “I’m not going to ask you again, kid. When is your friend coming back?”
“I told her to stay away from here after she came the first time. . . . I said that you were going to kill her if she came back to help me.” The fear in Miles’s voice was real, even if he wasn’t telling the truth.
Laffar rubbed his beard as his eyes blazed. “I’m not sure why you would go ahead and tell her something as stupid as that.”
Laffar pushed himself away from the cage with both arms. He began pacing, his steel-toed boots clicking on the cement floor with every step. When he was about ten feet away, he whirled quickly back toward the cage. Rushing forward, Laffar reached an all-out sprint before slamming into the cage. He rattled the bars with all his might, cackling like a possessed maniac.
Miles Zapo cowered in the back corner of the cage. Laffar’s single Silver Tooth flashed in the dim orange light of the underground prison. The rattling of the cage echoed off the bare concrete walls as noise thundered throughout the cell.
Defenseless against the man’s terrorizing aggression, Miles curled up in a ball with his hands and arms covering his head. He was sure that he was about to meet his end.
Then, as suddenly as Haryle Laffar had morphed into a madman, he changed once again. He released the cage from his grip and took a step back. A kind of calm overtook his face. Reaching into his leather jacket, he took out a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. He held the lighter to the cigarette and inhaled, and then exhaled a slow smoky breath.
“No matter, kid. Because I got this feeling that your friend is going to come back and rescue you real soon. Seems to me like she’s the meddling superhero-complex sort, not likely to abandon you in your time of need. If she don’t, that’s fine too. Because in about a day, we’ll have gotten the very last thing we need. Then I’ll have all the time in the world to track the girl who tried to kill my brother. Flarge is already doing it right now.”
“What?” Miles said, lowering his arms from his head.
“You heard me. Normally I don’t concern myself with children, except in two cases.” Laffar raised his cigarette to his mouth and inhaled. The tip began to glow a fiery orange color. “The first case, of course, is when those brats can be very helpful to me, like yourself. And the second case is when some brat tries to kill my brother.”
Neither Haryle Laffar nor Miles Zapo knew that the brat in the second case just referred to was Laffar’s own daughter.
Laffar narrowed his gray eyes and stared at Miles. “You understand how it is with family, don’t you, kid? Like if I were to tell you that something happened to that old woman of yours . . . Aunt Chan . . . that would be pretty upsetting to you, now wouldn’t it.?” Laffar smiled fiendishly.
“If you do anything to hurt her, I swear I’ll—“
“You’ll what?” Laffar demanded, laughing at the boy’s threat. “Turn yourself invisible and scare me? Now calm down . . . . Getting worked up ain’t going to do any good. In fact, you better get your rest now. Tomorrow night’s showtime.”
Laffar took another drag of his cigarette and then whistled. Miles heard something slamming against the metal ducts above them. In no time, the Quetzals would be back to start their incessant wailing. For Miles, everything would go blank and terror would return.
Chapter 18
The Prep and the Plan
The scene in room 723 was very different from previous nights. Fern sat on the chair by the window and practiced “Amazing Grace” on the harmonica. It was eight o’clock p.m., and in the last hour she’d made some progress. Now she could play the first few bars of the song without mistakes. Candace, sprawled on one of the double beds, watched Fern curiously out of the corner of her eye, while writing in her notebook. Lee and Blythe, who had not been sent home after all, but merely suspended from the day’s activities, glanced suspiciously at Fern from time to time as they quietly watched a movie on a laptop in their corner of the room. It was hard to believe, but it almost seemed like the tormenting blond duo had been humiliated into submission. Instead of telling Fern to stop playing the harmonica so they could hear the movie, they donned headphones without objection.
Fern dropped the harmonica from her lips. She stared out the seventh-floor window of the Marriott. There wasn’t much activity around the front of the hotel. Her thoughts turned to the evening’s plan.
For now, Fern put the knowledge that the monster holding Miles Zapo prisoner was her father in its own separate airtight compartment. Fern had lots of these compartments: one for the fact that the Commander hadn’t told her she was adopted until she was twelve years old; one for the implications of being a member of the Unusual Eleven as foretold by the Omphalos prophecy; one for her birth mother’s questionable status as a Blout; one for the worry that her fangs might come in at any time; and one for the growing certainty that her Otherworldly status was constantly endangering everyone she loved. If she thought about any one of the realities in each closed-off compartment for too long, she knew that she’d wind up tearful, depressed, and immobilized.
Instead she focused on how she would teleport back to Miles before Mrs. Lin (as well as Lindsey and Sam) were able to implement their own plans to accompany he
r. Sam and Lindsey had informed Mrs. Lin that Miles was most likely to be left alone around midnight, as he was when Fern visited him the last time. While they were in the Marriott’s banquet room, the foursome had made a plan to meet in the lobby at 11:40 p.m. and walk the mile from the Marriott to the zoo. Once there, they would retrace Mr. Lin’s steps at the zoo and locate the two prisoners. Mrs. Lin assured them that she had watched Mr. Lin’s progress by using the locket Sagebrush until he had disappeared.
Lindsey and Sam were to stand guard outside while Mrs. Lin and Fern made their way to the underground bunker where Miles and Mr. Lin were captive. If they ran into trouble, Mrs. Lin would call Lindsey on her phone, and she was to get in touch with Alistair Kimble immediately. Mrs. Lin was fairly certain that they would not be in any danger, because Laffar was not expecting them. In that regard, of course, she was wrong.
Fern knew she’d be able to teleport to the bunker before anyone realized she was gone. The problem, though, was that the Lins and Sam would realize something was amiss when Fern didn’t appear at their meeting in the lobby. Sam would probably figure it out first—that Fern had decided to teleport to Miles’s location herself. Then they would inevitably go after her. That, Fern knew, would be the worst of all scenarios. She didn’t want to have to worry about her brother and the Lins getting in trouble while searching for her, but ultimately, Fern knew there was no escaping it unless she had some method of letting Sam, Lindsey, and Mrs. Lin know that she’d made her way to the bunker herself and they were not to follow her. She turned away from the window. Her eyes met Candace’s.
“I need to talk to you.”
Candace perked up.
“About what?”
Fern looked at Lee and Blythe. They seemed to be reveling in Mean Girls, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
“Come with me.”
Fern led Candace into the bathroom and locked the door. Normally, Blythe or Lee would have made some kind of snarky comment about the girls heading to the bathroom together, but they ignored Fern and Candace.
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