The Wicked Awakening of Anne Merchant

by Joanna Wiebe

  Or, where I assume they all are. I know my mom’s there, thanks to what Teddy’s told me—plus, I saw her angelic spirit when I was in my hospital bed. But as for Ben’s mom and sister, perhaps they’re not. Perhaps they’re reincarnated, something I’d never before believed in but can’t help believing now.

  THE FOURTH FLOOR of the library is empty, cold, and dark when I start lighting candles. I pull out my incantation and read it briefly, trying to commit it to memory. Then I do as Lance said he does: I hook my hands together, close my eyes, and visualize myself floating to a beautiful, pure space—what I imagine Heaven to be—to see my mother. I think her name: Nicolette Merchant.

  I recite my incantation.

  And wait.

  But all I see behind my eyelids is empty, vast whiteness. She doesn’t appear. Could I be doing it wrong? Or could I be so bad now as to be forced out of anything as good as Heaven?

  I think on her harder. To no avail.

  But I need to talk to her! I need to tell her I’m sorry about what Gia did. I need to tell her she’ll always be my mom. And her husband will always be my dad. And we’ll always be a family, no matter what happens here or how I was created. And I need her to say I’m still her good daughter, not this girl using her inner demon to hurt people.

  Unfortunately, my need to see my mom does not materialize her. Nothing does.

  “I must be doing it wrong.”

  I open my eyes, shake it off, and decide to try again. With Jeannie Zin this time. If this doesn’t work, I’ll have no choice but to go back down to Lance and Scout’s office and use force. But I don’t want to do that. Because, well, I think I’m done doing that. Because stupid Molly with her stupid emotional logic has made me feel like some sort of underworld deviant—and I hate her for being right.

  I close my eyes.

  Do something good, I think. Use this power for good.

  The floor by the door squeaks. I check. Find I’m alone. And close my eyes again. I hook my hands together. And recite. And wait to see Jeannie, a girl I’ve only seen in photos. I nearly pull my hair out when nothing happens. Bloody Lance Crenmost! His little trick hasn’t worked at all.

  There’s always the chance that Jeannie has reincarnated. Maybe my mom has, too. I’ll start with Jeannie and then look for my mom.

  The idea of either of them being reincarnated as some sweet girl or boy makes me giddy with excitement.

  So I press my hands against either side of my head, which is what Scout said he does to trigger his connect souls power. I repeat my incantation. I want to connect with the soul of Jeannie Zin, wherever she is, if only to tell Ben one day, should we ever be together again, who his sister’s become. Perhaps we can even visit her and watch her from afar, the way Damon Smith’s parents will watch over whomever he’s become.

  I hope this works.

  All at once, I am standing at the back of a library, between two huge shelves of books.

  Guys in Harvard sweaters are crowded around a book a few steps away from me. They don’t seem to notice my arrival.

  Why am I here? What would Jeannie be doing at Harvard? If she’s reincarnated, she wouldn’t be much more than five years old now. I’d expected to arrive in the frilly pink bedroom of some little girl. I must have connected with the wrong Jeannie Zin.

  But I’m curious. So I creep down the aisle behind the shelves of books and nearly run into a student.

  “Sorry,” she says, turning to me and smiling. “Wow, dig your hair.”

  I recognize her smile. I know that smile. I know the crinkled nose above it.

  But just as I’m about to say something to her—to this girl who is not dead and not reincarnated—to this girl who, with bright green eyes, can only be the living, breathing Jeannie Zin—she glances behind me. And staggers back. Like she’s seen a ghost.

  I turn.

  Ben is standing behind us.

  twenty-four

  CROSSROADS

  JEANNIE ZIN ISN’T DEAD. SHE’S NINETEEN AND A HARVARD sophomore.

  I’m standing in a library I’ve never seen before, and I’m looking from her to her brother, Ben Zin. Jeannie is clearly at a loss for words. So I speak to Ben first, though he hardly looks like he’s going to be able to keep himself together.

  “You’re in the library, aren’t you?” I ask. “The library at Cania. You’re why the floor squeaked.”

  He keeps staring at his sister. And she keeps staring at him.

  “Ben?” I say.

  At the mention of the name of her brother—her only brother, her long-dead brother—Jeannie’s shocked expression shifts to a whole new level. I think she might pass out; she’s definitely stopped breathing. The crowd of guys is looking at us, so I drag Jeannie and Ben, like the frozen statues they could pass for, to a quiet table in a distant corner. We sit down.

  I have a thousand things I’d like to say. But I know that my point is not the point right now. So I sit quietly. And pray no one else comes into the Cania library to find me and Ben sitting together.

  “You look so much like my brother,” Jeannie says to Ben.

  “You look so much like my sister,” he replies.

  Their hands are flat on the table. They are seated across from each other. And they are soaking each other up like they’ve been blind all their lives and, at last, can see. Ben is the first to tear up. But Jeannie follows fast. Their hands find each other, grab each other, pull each other up from their chairs and bring them into an embrace neither could have possibly expected a mere five minutes earlier. I watch, wishing I could be a part of this experience with them but not daring to move, and I think about how, months ago, I sat with Teddy and felt Anne Merchant dying; I thought about the unexpected nature of death, of how it comes so randomly and changes everything. But it’s not only death that has the power to change us, to interrupt us, to get in the way of mundane day-to-day nothingness and routine. Jeannie thought she was just going to the library to read or research a paper; instead she found her brother. Life is constantly getting in the way.

  “They said you were dead,” Ben says.

  “They said the same thing about you! What about Mom?” Jeannie asks excitedly, still in disbelief, still clutching her brother to her. “Is she with you? Where have you been?”

  But before Ben can utter a word, we are yanked from Harvard.

  We’re back in Cania’s library, where we started. A raging Garnet is tugging Ben away from me. His hands were wrapped around my wrists; I can still feel the warmth of his touch as I lower my hands.

  “What’s going on here?” she demands, hollering and appearing torn between crying and killing someone. “What are the two of you doing together?”

  “I’m sorry!” I cry.

  Ben, dazed, gets to his feet and stands obediently next to his Guardian-girlfriend. She and I look at him as he reorients himself. For one glorious moment, I can see the weight of years of guilt and sadness lift from his shoulders. But then he sees Garnet again. And his face darkens. Thank God I rewrote history for them, removing me from it fully and completely, or this could get ugly.

  “It’s my fault,” I say and leap up. I’ve gotta fix this fast, or Ben will never see Jeannie again. “I’ve been dabbling in the dark arts. It’s bad; I shouldn’t do it. And Ben came up here and saw me, and he tried to wake me from my trance.”

  Pursing her lips, Garnet looks at Ben. “Is this true?”

  He’s still too dumbfounded to speak. But he manages to nod.

  “And when he tried—well, being in a trance is like sleepwalking,” I lie. “You’re not supposed to wake a person up. So when he did, I grabbed him and pulled him into the trance with me.”

  “It looked like he was grabbing your wrists.”

  I nod vehemently. “Oh, yes. He was trying to break me out of it. But as soon as he touched me, he entered the trance. It was one of those dark, empty trances. Not much happens in it. Just kind of… zone out. So he probably won’t remember much. He’ll look a little,
like, void for a while. And if he acts strangely, please don’t think anything of it.”

  “I don’t like my boyfriend touching other girls.”

  “Of course not. And don’t tell Pilot, okay? It was just part of the trance.”

  The prettiest smile lights her face. “You and Pilot Stone? I guess the rumors about you being anything but a standard Cania kid are true.”

  Satisfied, she takes Ben by the hand and leads him out of the library. And I let out the longest breath imaginable. Because she bought it. She really bought it. And because if Ben didn’t have anything more than Garnet to live for before, he does now. He’s got his sister back! I’m tempted to pop back into Jeannie’s world and tell her everything, but I want to wait until Ben’s ready. Even if he hates me, he’ll come find me when he’s sorted out what he wants to do about Jeannie.

  Right now, there’s only one person I want to share this moment with. It’s because of her that I even had the idea to do something good with the gifts I now have.

  Unfortunately, the last time I saw her, I screamed bloody murder at her.

  Molly keeps her eyes on her Kindle when I knock lightly on our door, poke my head in, and raise my eyebrows like white flags of surrender. I ask how she’s doing, and she rolls onto her side, facing the wall, away from me. I offer her a chocolate chip cookie I swiped from the cafeteria, and I pull out a can of Mountain Dew for good measure, dangling my peace offering before her eyes, but she looks only mildly interested. She pops her headphones on and exaggerates the act of turning up the volume. I sit on my bed and wait, but that gets me about as far as waiting ever has: nowhere. So I take out a notepad and begin scratching out an apology letter.

  A knock on the door interrupts me. Molly doesn’t notice because her music’s so loud.

  I swing it open, and Harper storms in. With all her strength, she shoves me back. Again. And again. Until I fall onto my bed.

  “What the hell, Harper?”

  Molly tosses her headset aside and watches us. So does the crowd that’s forming at our open door.

  “You left me at Dia’s office by myself,” Harper fires at me.

  I totally forgot I was supposed to meet her there!

  She straddles me, pinning my wrists back. I rail against her, but she’s tough. Gia could snap her like a twig, but I won’t force Gia awake anymore, not when I know she doesn’t want it, and not just to fend off Harper.

  “Do you think I like being this? Do you think I wanted to be this person, to have this PT?” Harper cries. “It was chosen for me! I don’t want to do those things with those beings. But I do them! I keep doing what I’m supposed to! And you used me. You used me worse than any of them ever did.”

  “Harper, wait, listen.”

  “No! I’ve listened and listened to you. But you’re evil. You’re awful.”

  “I’m not! I was on my way to Dia’s, but I got sidetracked by something really important.”

  “By what? Your seven evil bitches that serve you?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I know why Superbia wanted to talk to you in private. She serves you now!”

  Everyone gasps. Girls are pushing each other and spilling into the room to get answers to what’s going on with Murdering Merchant, the girl who wanted to leave so badly, was given the chance, decided to stay, and has since been beating up half the staff. Molly, perhaps waiting for my confession or just enjoying seeing me in agony, quietly observes us.

  “I promise, it’s not like that.”

  More gasps. More onlookers.

  “Why didn’t you come to Dia’s?” she demands. “What sidetracked you?”

  “It’s personal,” I say. I’m watching Molly as I say, “I’m really, really sorry.”

  Molly shrugs but looks slightly softened.

  Harper, on the other hand, might tear my head off. “You’re gonna be sorry. Because if you don’t give me what you promised, I’ll have a nice long talk with Garnet.”

  At that, Molly jumps up and shoos everyone out of the room, telling them the show’s over as they groan. She closes the door behind them, locks it, and pounds on it to back them away. Then turns to us.

  “Please don’t,” I beg Harper. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

  “You don’t know who you’re playing with,” Harper shouts.

  Molly tugs Harper off me. The angry redhead is panting as she watches me sit up. Molly and I position her between us. And that’s when the cracking begins. The façade Harper shows the world breaks. Tears well in her eyes.

  “I just want to go home,” she says, and her whole body slumps. Her deep Texan drawl vanishes. “I’ve been playing this idiotic, overdramatic part for so long—the so-called mean girl, the most obvious trope, the shallow empty little tease—and I’ve given up so much. Everything. Don’t I deserve a second chance?” Molly and I look uncomfortably at each other. “I didn’t mean to die! That wasn’t supposed to happen! It was an accident. Stupid horse.”

  Together, we comfort Harper, who’s full-on crying. Molly hands her the Mountain Dew, snapping it open, and I offer her the cookie. She takes both. And we sit together. The three of us. With a box of tissues on Harper’s lap.

  “You saw pictures of me the way I used to be,” Harper says to me. “In that stupid scrapbook, which reminds me, Molly, you need to fill out your page still. Murdering Merchant isn’t dead yet, so she doesn’t get one.”

  “I’ll get to that, sure,” Molly says, tossing me a look.

  “I wasn’t always like this,” Harper continues, taking a bite of the cookie. She chews once then with surprising force whips the cookie across the room. It breaks on the wall above Molly’s bed, covering her bed with crumbs. “God, I used to love cookies. Now I can’t even taste them.” She gulps down some soda. Molly grabs the can from her before she can chuck it, too.

  “I used to be a lot like you, Anne,” Harper continues. “I read a lot. I kept to myself. People never—they never really warmed to me. The only reason I wanted that stupid pink Hummer was because I thought it would make people like me.”

  “People do like you,” Molly says.

  “They don’t. They don’t.” She wipes her arm across her nose. “Girls would invite me to their birthday parties because I’d get them big presents. But then they’d talk trash about me at school on Monday.”

  “We all know how that feels,” I say. “They called me Death Chick.” I leave out the fact that she’s been calling me Murdering Merchant for most of the year.

  “I was Heifer Otto. Harper Fat as an Auto. Harpooned Whale. And the constant questions about whether the carpet matches the drapes.” She sniffles. “I never even had a boyfriend before I came here. Never kissed a guy. Wanted to marry Prince Harry. When they assigned me Trey for a Guardian, he took one look at me, and I swear he didn’t even read my soul. He just said what he wanted my PT to be. So he could use me.” The tears flow again. “I should’ve known then they were all demonic freaks.”

  “It doesn’t take a demon to objectify a girl,” Molly says.

  Collecting herself, Harper finally gets to her feet again. She finger-combs her hair until it falls perfectly again. You can almost see her mask of cool perfection dropping over her. She pulls a scrap of paper from her pocket and hands it to me, then walks to the door, where she turns back to us. She zeroes in on me. The vulnerable expression Molly and I nurtured only moments ago is gone.

  “‘Course, this don’t change a damn thing,” she says. Her thick drawl is back. “If you don’t help me get a life off this island, I’ll make sure Garnet knows that you did all of this for Ben…and he never really wanted a thing to do with her.”

  Molly and I stare at Harper. She just sat here and cried with us. And now this.

  “No, I wasn’t always this way,” she says, “but I am now. So do us all a favor: don’t underestimate the lengths I’ll go to for what I want. Life.” With a snap, Harper struts out the door. “Make it happen.”

&
nbsp; Molly locks the door as I unfold the scrap of paper.

  “This is what happens when you make deals with the devil,” she says and throws herself down next to me.

  “The Seven Sinning Sisters,” I read.

  “What about them?”

  “Harper went to Dia’s office to find out who has the power to give new life. Turns out, they do,” I say. “But they’d have to leave Dia to follow me, and he’s bound to notice that. In our painting sessions, I’ve been watching the little tick marks that represent his followers disappear. If the sisters go, I’m screwed. I’d get my ass kicked by him or even Mephisto—whoever feels most threatened. Maybe both of them.”

  I groan and flop back on the bed.

  “You know,” Molly begins, rolling to look down at me, “you could just give up this whole Saligia thing. Your problems would vanish with her. It looks like Ben’s a sure thing for the Big V, if the rumors are right.”

  “But I told Teddy I’d help him, too.”

  “Teddy?”

  “And then there are the lives I promised.” I clamp a pillow over my head. “Wake me up when we get to the happy ending, please.”

  She lifts the pillow. “What did you tell Teddy you’d help him with?”

  “Just destroying Dia Voletto. Y’know, easy stuff.”

  She tilts her head. “What have you got to do with what Teddy wants?”

  “Evidently Saligia wanted to destroy Dia because he cheated on her.” I sigh.

  “Girl, you don’t know how badly I wish you’d gone home when you won the Scrutiny. What a mess.”

  “I know. But I told Teddy I’d destroy Dia. And he’s a devil, after all, so destroying him is a good thing.”

  “Anne, come on!” she says, shoving me. “You don’t have to do anything for that little weasel. He’s kept you in a coma, for crying out loud. Why would you help him?”

  “For my mom.”

  She looks taken aback. “More information, please.”

  I tell her everything, all the way back to when I woke to find Teddy over my hospital bed. It feels so good to get the truth off my chest, like there might actually be a way out of this now that I’m sharing it with Molly.