by Lee Nichols
“There you are,” my mother said.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m the one who’s hard to track down.”
My father murmured something like, “Now, now, Emma,” then everyone fell silent.
Celeste handed me a cup of tea, steeped for a long time with a splash of milk, just the way I liked it. There was no room for me at the table, so Bennett got up and I slid into his place as he leaned against the kitchen counter. Nobody said anything. I took a bite of the cinnamon bun Bennett had abandoned and glanced at Anatole hovering near the stove. These are perfect, I told him. Like always. Then I added, Can you believe how awkward this is? Are the French this ridiculous?
Worze, Celeste said.
Impossible, I told her. I took another contemplative bite. They are missing one thing.
Anatole’s mustache bristled. You are suggesting I forget zomething? Thiz iz reediculuz! What iz your so-called missing ingredient?
Arsenic.
He snorted a laugh, and Celeste tsked at me from near the sink, though I’m pretty sure I saw her smiling.
“If you’re talking to them,” my father said, “you can talk to us.”
“Emma doesn’t owe you anything.” Bennett set his coffee cup down hard on the counter. “You left her to fend for herself in San Francisco.”
“And you took full advantage of that,” my mom said.
“At least I got her somewhere safe. You left her alone, and never even told her who she was. You tried to have her powers destroyed.”
I was glad Bennett was here, voicing my position. Somehow I’d never been able to say these things to them myself. He made me feel like I had a right to be angry.
“We tried to protect her,” my dad said. “You have no idea what she attracted just walking down the street. Then Neos found her.” He took a deep breath. “We didn’t know what to do.”
“You should’ve gone to the Knell,” Bennett’s father said in his deep voice. “They could’ve protected her.”
“No, Dad, we couldn’t,” Bennett scoffed. “We couldn’t even protect ourselves.”
Right again. I wanted to jump in, but he was on a roll. And honestly, I was worried I’d say things I couldn’t take back.
“If they’d gone to the Knell,” his mother said, her voice tight, “Neos wouldn’t have searched San Francisco. He wouldn’t have found Olivia. He wouldn’t have—” She swallowed.
She held her head high and didn’t quite look at me, and I knew she wished it was me who was dead, instead of her daughter.
“I can’t imagine how difficult that is,” my mother told her, surprisingly gently. “And I—”
“Don’t you dare,” Bennett snarled at his mother. “Don’t you even think about putting Olivia’s death on Emma.”
This is where we finally differed. I knew Neos was ultimately responsible for Olivia’s death, but I still wondered if things could’ve been different.
“I’m not,” his mother snapped back. “I’m saying that if Jana and Nathan did the responsible thing—”
“Now, now,” Bennett’s father said, his voice placating. “There’s no way to—”
“If we did the responsible thing?” my dad said, his face reddening. “Are you suggesting—”
“Olivia only moved to California to get away from you,” Bennett said. “If she—”
Everyone started yelling at once. I could only catch snippets of what was said, and felt like my brain was going to explode.
“Don’t you speak to your mother like—”
“—and almost got killed fighting Neos, while the Knell stood by and—”
“—walking around like a junkie—”
It was time to break my code of silence.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Just stop!” My voice echoed around the kitchen. When they quieted down, I continued. “Don’t you see none of this matters? We have to find Neos, that’s all. After we stop him, I don’t care—you can lock yourselves in a room and argue for months.”
My father rubbed his face with his palm. “You’re right. She’s right. But how are we going to stop him?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “The only thing I can think of is trying to find that ghost I saw. Maybe it wasn’t Rachel, but I know it was connected to Neos.”
“What?” my dad said. “You saw Rachel’s ghost?”
“Or a shape-shifter, I guess.”
Mr. Stern furrowed his brow. “That’s not possible, is it? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“When was this?” Mrs. Stern asked me. “Why didn’t you tell us? You must tell us about any unusual event immediately.”
“Alexandra is right,” my mom said. “We have to know these things if we’re going to help you, Emma. Tell us about this ghost.”
All four parents gazed at me with impatient parental attention. Well, at least they’d found something to agree on. I drained my teacup and told them. But not about my vision in the field at Thatcher. Because I didn’t want to know what it was trying to tell me about Bennett.
Late that afternoon, we sat down to Christmas dinner. I worried that Lukas and Natalie would feel left out, but my parents took an interest in Natalie, and for some reason, Lukas was still a hit with the Sterns.
The food was even more spectacular than last night, and the meal much more comfortable, like yelling at each other had released some of the pressure. Bennett’s mom didn’t correct me when I cleared the dishes with Celeste or when Natalie and Lukas helped her with the dessert plates. Bennett topped off all the parents’ wineglasses and gave each of us underage units half a glass, then sat down next to me and scooted his chair closer, so our legs were pressed together. As he laid his arm across the back of my chair, his fingers lightly caressing my shoulder, I felt something I almost didn’t recognize.
Happiness.
I was happy that my parents came, even if I wished my brother Max had come with them. I was happy that Bennett was here, even if he didn’t look entirely himself. I was happy his parents were warming up, chatting and drinking, even smiling. I was happy Lukas and Natalie looked content—like they knew that they weren’t guests at the table, they were family, too. I almost let myself forget everything that was ahead of me: school, finding Rachel’s ghost, and killing Neos.
There was a billiard room in the museum, which sometimes made me feel like I was living in a game of Clue. Shortly after dinner, my dad headed off to play pool with Bennett, his dad, and Lukas. Having realized the futility of conservative clothing, Natalie sashayed in behind them, wearing a denim mini, tall boots, and a magenta sweater hanging off one shoulder. She was either going to cheerlead or show them all how it was done—it was always hard to guess with her.
I don’t know where Bennett’s mom disappeared to, but I found mine on the sofa in the front parlor, leafing through a design book she wasn’t really reading. I loved the pale sea-green walls in the parlor and the simple antique furnishings, but Neos had killed Martha here. She’d been Bennett and Olivia’s nanny, but to me, even though we’d only known each other a short time, she’d been more like the grandmother I’d never had. I hadn’t spent any time in this room since her death.
I stood in the doorway and let the memories fade, then studied my mom. She looked less haggard than when she’d visited me at the hospital, but still skinnier than before she left San Francisco, and a little fidgety. When she noticed me, she set her book aside and smiled.
I almost started to tell her about Martha, but instead said, “Hi,” as I entered the room. Everything had been so crazy, I hadn’t had the chance to say that simple word.
Her smile widened. “I missed you. No one says ‘hi’ like you do.”
“What’s so special about it?”
“I don’t know. It’s just you.” She stood and hugged me.
The scent of her shampoo made me smile. “I missed you, too. Are you back for good this time?”
“Well …,” she said as we sat on the French-blue velvet sofa. “That’s really up to yo
u.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “And where’s Max?”
“Neos isn’t the only evil ghost on the planet. Max really was in Tibet, just not on exchange. He’s been working with a small village to help them dispel a tenacious ghost. He’ll be here soon.” She pushed a lock of hair out of my face. “I want to hear about you.”
I started talking. I told her about seeing the tapestry at the Knell with the image of a previous Emma who looked exactly like me. I told her about losing Martha—then losing Coby. About losing my old friend Abby, too, in a different way, and finding Natalie and Lukas, and Harry and Sara, who’d become more than friends to me. I told her about the fight at the Knell, about Nicholas and Rachel and all the leaders of the Knell who’d died. I told her about fighting wraiths and facing Neos: about beating him, too, except he never stayed beaten. He always came back, stronger than ever.
I spoke nonstop for an hour, not quite believing how much had happened over the last few months. Or how painful it was to relive all of it, except for the good friends I’d made.
My mother listened. She hugged me when I needed it, and she apologized when I needed that. And no, she’d never been the mom who baked cookies or went on school field trips, but maybe that wasn’t the kind of mother I’d needed. Because she hadn’t always been there for me, smoothing the way, I’d learned to make my own choices. I came from a long line of powerful ghostkeepers—I needed to trust my own strength.
“And what about Bennett?” she asked lightly, fiddling with her earring.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I love him, and he loves me. I know that. But he’s taking Asarum because he’s determined to fight Neos with me; he doesn’t want me to have to face that alone. But it’s changing him. And what happens when Neos is finally gone? Ghostkeeping and the Knell are Bennett’s life. No matter how much I want to be with him, I can’t let him give that up.”
She nodded briefly, as one of her legs jiggled to a twitchy beat. I forgot that’s exactly what she’d done for my dad: given up her ghostkeeping powers.
“I’ve stopped, you know. Taking Asarum.” She noticed me noticing her leg and forced herself to sit still. She hadn’t stopped fidgeting since we’d sat down. “It hasn’t been easy.”
“You look better,” I said, despite the tense energy.
She nodded. “I feel better. Would you like me to talk to Bennett?”
“Would you? Not just about the Asarum. But about …”
“Giving up my powers?”
“Yeah.”
“I will.” She smoothed her hair. “There is a slight problem, though.”
I frowned. “What?”
“We want you to come with us,” my father said from the doorway.
“Come where?” I asked.
“To the Knell.”
“What? Why? I thought you hated them.”
“Not ‘hated’—mistrusted. They’re complacent and rigid and—” He stopped. “Well, they were. It’s a different story now. And Simon is brilliant, discovering the principle of reflexivity, and—”
“The what?”
“The principle of reflexivity,” he repeated. “That ghostkeeping powers work both ways. Readers like me can also imprint messages. Compellers can release compulsion, communicators can silence ghosts, and summoners can banish them.”
I nodded. “He taught us some of that. What about dispellers?” I asked, thinking of Bennett.
“They can heal,” my father said. “At least, that’s what Simon suspects.”
“The point is,” my mother said, amused by my father’s enthusiasm, “Simon’s asked us to help them rebuild. Emma, we want you to move with us to the city.”
They wanted me with them. Wasn’t that what I’d needed to hear all this time? I felt a flush of pleasure, but the second thoughts came at once. “Bennett’s there,” I said. “If he sees me every day, he’ll never stop taking Asarum.”
“He’ll never stop anyway,” my mother said. “He’s addicted, Emma. I only took a fraction of what Bennett’s doing, and I’m still struggling. Bennett’s not going to kick it.”
“Of course he will,” I insisted. “Once Neos is gone. He can’t go on like that forever.”
She shook her head sadly. “Your being there won’t be the deciding factor.”
My father kissed the top of my head. “We’ve made a lot of mistakes, Emma. Come with us. Let us try to fix a few of them.”
“I can’t go,” I said, though I didn’t understand my own certainty. “That ghost I saw—even if it isn’t Rachel, she’s the key to finding Neos. I know it. I have to stay and find her.” And figure out what that vision meant.
“Let the Sterns find her,” Dad told me. “And Natalie and Lukas.”
“Emma, please,” Mom said. “You should be with us. You’re only seventeen, and we—we miss you.”
“I love you,” I told them.
I saw relief etched in their faces, like they hadn’t been sure. My mother stopped bouncing her foot long enough to hug me. “We love you, too.”
“But I can’t go with you,” I said into my mom’s shoulder.
She pulled back and searched my face. “Emma—”
“Nothing can happen to Natalie or Lukas. They’re my …” I faltered, suddenly understanding the reason I needed to stay, but afraid I was going to start crying instead of explaining. “You don’t know how dangerous Neos is. I’m the only one who can stop him. And Natalie and Lukas don’t have anyone else. Their own parents suck—even worse than you—and I can’t leave Sara with Coby dead and Harry just out of rehab. They need me. I can’t let them down.”
My mom gave my father a look across the top of my head, and I glanced at him for his reaction.
“What?” I asked. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because we don’t suck as parents,” my mom said.
I half grinned. “Well …”
“Look at you, Emma,” Dad said, his eyes shining. “We did something right. We couldn’t be more proud of you.”
And then I did cry. Because even though I pretended to be all tough and in dependent, I loved hearing that from them.
“I can stay here?” I asked, through sniffles.
“You can stay.”
5
Not the Christmas from hell after all, I realized, climbing into bed that night. Not bad, if you didn’t count my parents walking in on me and Bennett, or the scene around the breakfast nook.
I reached to turn out the light, and heard a crinkling noise from the hallway. I grabbed my dagger—wondering yet again how I became the kind of girl who slept with a knife—and listened intently. Silence. I crept toward the door, and my toe nudged a piece of paper that had been shoved through the crack.
I smiled, expecting a love note from Bennett. But the handwriting looked shaky and weird, almost spidery. Meet me in the solarium. Come alone.
I probed the paper with my reading ability and sensed some ghostly resonance, but no menace. And no mental pictures, either, which was strange. Was it from the ghost that looked like Rachel?
I paused outside Natalie’s door on my way downstairs, wondering if I should wake her. Or Bennett. Or, hell, my parents were here—let them deal with one of these messes for once. But I was afraid that whoever sent the note would disappear if I didn’t come alone, and I wanted to know who—or what—it was.
I could protect myself, and tried to comfort myself with that thought as I tiptoed down the grand staircase. But I could feel my heart racing as I crossed the kitchen into the solarium. I stood in the moonlight and silence, smelling the tang of the citrus trees, as I sent out tendrils of summoning power, trying to find a ghost, hoping I wouldn’t have another vision of the snaky ghost man.
A deep voice from behind a lemon bush asked, “Have I told you how much I love those pajamas?”
“Bennett!” I dropped my dagger on the table and threw myself at him.
The first time he’d seen me in these pj’s, I was dancing like a
fool by myself in the ballroom, pretending I had some unseen courtly suitor bowing to me. And then Bennett had appeared. That was before the Asarum, before we were together, and I couldn’t believe how gorgeous he was, how nervous and excited he’d made me feel. Then he’d danced with me. It had been romantic and sexy, and now I couldn’t believe that I got to kiss him and have him tell me he loved me.
“I didn’t know it was you,” I said. “I didn’t recognize your writing. I’ve seen it before, I should’ve—”
He showed me his hand in the moonlight. Constant tremors ran through his fingers and goosefleshed his arm. “My handwriting’s changed.”
“Oh, Bennett.” I felt helpless to do anything, and worried this wasn’t the only way the Asarum was affecting him.
“Yeah, forget my dream of becoming a neurosurgeon.”
I didn’t smile. “Any other side effects?”
He glanced away. “Just the jitters.”
“Please don’t lie. Not to me. I’m not your parents.”
He exhaled. “You’re right. Sorry. What else? Well, I can’t sleep, I feel like I’m mainlining cappuccino. And I’ve got no appetite.”
“That’s it?”
He shot me a wicked grin. “I’m also not sure if I’m thinking clearly—or if that’s just being next to you. I’m going back tonight, Em. I wanted to say good-bye.” He ran a finger along the back of my neck. “And hopefully not be interrupted this time.”
“They wanted me to go with you, you know. To the Knell.”
He nodded. “Simon told me.”
I tried to gauge his reaction. “You don’t seem upset that I’m not going.”
“You have a life here. School and friends and—you’re happy here. The Knell is a graveyard.”
“You don’t want me to come, do you?” I stepped back, and he reluctantly let his arm drop. “I thought you’d be disappointed, but you don’t even want me there.”
“Emma.” He took a deep breath. “I want you all the time. To hear your voice and see you smile, to touch you.” He interlaced his fingers with mine and pulled me closer. “But look at me; I can’t keep this up much longer. We need to find Neos and finish him. I need to be at the Knell, doing … what I’m doing. And you need to stay here and find that ghost that looks like Rachel.”
