Lincoln takes the sheets from me and scans them. “Prescott highlighted these passages?”
“Yes. He put little Post-its on these pages. What do they say?”
“They’re about protectors.” He looks over the next sheet. “This one tells the story of Cryptan. It’s how he volunteered to become the protector of the thrax Vault. It happened thousands of years ago.” He sighs. “At least he lived a long life.”
My heart lurches, thinking about our lost friend. I shake my head. Now is not the time to focus on Cryptan’s death. “So it talks about Cryptan. Anyone else?”
“It mentions the protector who volunteered to look after Lucifer’s coin.” He flips the sheets over. “Other than saying that the protector is a man and that he exists, it’s a little thin on details.”
“How old is that text?”
“At least two thousand years.”
“Well, if the protector of Lucifer’s coin was around when that text was written, the guy would be pretty old.”
Lincoln purses his lips. “He might not look old. Cryptan didn’t.”
“Yeah, but Cryptan never saw the light of day. Whoever this is, they’ve been running around under the Earth’s sun for a long time.” The solution appears in a flash. “Fish Stick Grandpa.”
“Excuse me?”
“The guy who brought us over to the island in his rowboat. Jeeves. I could have sworn he saw my tail. That might mean he’s working some supernatural mojo like Cryptan. A protector.”
Lincoln taps his chin. “That could work.”
“I bet his name’s not really Jeeves.” I lower my voice. “And I’ll make that like, an official kiss bet.”
“And I won’t be taking that wager.”
“Why not? What are you, afraid?”
“Nice try. What I am is a kiss ahead.” He leans in closer and smirks, the jerk. “And I’m keeping my lead.”
Crap. The “what, are you afraid” routine used to work so easily on Lincoln. Now he’s getting used to all my tricks. I need to up my game.
Lincoln slips the parchment into his jacket pocket. “We should head over to the dock. See what we can find out.”
“I like this plan.”
The class has finally marched just into listening distance again. Lincoln turns to the students and raises his arms. “Class.” Even though my guy isn’t wearing a crown, he still works that regal vibe like a pro. Everyone stops to stare at him. “Use the rest our time to explore the woods and exercise in an unstructured manner.”
Everyone freezes in place. A chorus of gasps fills the air.
Oops.
The cool ginger girl, Harper, steps forward. “We don’t go off the paths. Ever.”
“And why is that?” asks Lincoln.
Harper’s gaze locks with mine. “We have our reasons.”
“Whatever they are, you can tell me.” Lincoln looks totally trustworthy when he says that, mostly because he is.
Harper scans the frightened faces of the other students. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. We’ll go back to our cabins and hang out.”
The group starts to head toward the path. The muscles in my arms and legs clench. I get this overwhelming feeling like an opportunity is passing us by. Harper is clearly a leader of some kind. After all, she’s ordering her peers back to their cabins, and they’re all listening. Plus, it took guts for Harper to talk to me after I mouthed off to Prescott in Jamboree Hall. And even more guts to share that no one wants to step off the official paths.
It doesn’t feel right to let her leave without saying anything. “You mean demons?” I ask. “Are you worried about them?”
The other students scurry off into the woods, but Harper pauses. With careful steps, she closes the distance between us. “What do you know about that?”
“I saw them last night. Flying through the night sky. Hiding in the bushes. Linc— I mean, Mr. Prince saw them as well.”
Harper eyes us both from head to toe. “Who are you two, anyway?”
“That’s not easy to explain,” says Lincoln. “All I can say now is that you’re in serious danger.”
Harper folds her arms over her chest. “And you two came here to save us.”
“We did.” I try to look trustworthy, too. It never works as well for me.
“I’ll need more than that,” says Harper.
Lincoln and I share a long look. I know what the expression on his face means. Should we trust her?
“Harper looks cool.” I shrug. “Besides, we’re running out of time here.”
“True.” Lincoln goes back into prince-mode. “We believe that Prescott has made some kind of pact to release a demon army right here on Hemlock Island.”
“Wow.” Harper rolls her eyes. “You almost had me going there. I mean, this place is creep central. But a demon army? Right.”
I raise my pointer finger. “We also came here looking for a magical book, too.” If we’ve decided to trust her, there’s no point in holding back on the major items.
“Whatever.” Harper flicks her finger between Lincoln and me. “The two of you are crazy. I’m going to Headmaster Prescott and telling him everything.”
Harper starts to turn away, but Lincoln raises his hand palm forward. “Don’t.”
“You can jus—” Harper freezes in place.
I look to Lincoln, my eyes wide with shock. “Did you just put a freezing spell on her?”
“I did. It’s a standard charm we carry with us on demon patrol. You never know when you’ll run across a troublemaker.”
“She’s not causing trouble. She simply has no idea that the after-realms even exist.”
Lincoln sifts through the inner pockets of his jacket. He pulls out what looks like a small seashell. “This charm will clear her memory.”
Lincoln steps toward Harper, and I block his path. “We don’t want her memory cleared. Out of all the students at this school, Harper is the sharpest. She already suspected we were together.”
“It wasn’t that hard.”
“All I’m saying is that we still need that damned codex. There must be another library on this island. Sure, I didn’t find the codex in Prescott’s office. That said, if anyone knows where else to look, it would be Harper.”
Lincoln turns the shell over in his hand. “I could charm one of the teachers.”
“You don’t like to take information from the unwilling.”
“When did I say that?”
“Two weeks ago. Before we interviewed those quasi kids for the codex.”
Lincoln sighs. “Fine. But it’s a risk. I’ll need to convince her to trust us, and that will require a more serious spell. If I cast it, the Acca patrol could detect that another thrax is nearby. We could blow our cover.”
“You’d blow it anyway by casting a charm to clear her memory. I know for a fact that has some serious magic in it.”
Lincoln reaches into his pocket, toying with the different charms there. “I don’t like revealing that thrax exist. It goes against everything we stand for.”
“She doesn’t need to know about all your people, Lincoln. Just give her enough supernatural mumbo jumbo to make her trust us enough to answer a few questions.” I step closer and grip his arm. “It’s Friday, Lincoln. We’re almost out of time.”
Lincoln stares at the ground for what feels like forever. Eventually, he nods. “And I’ll allow her to keep her memories afterward as well. We may need her help again.”
I go up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for breaking with thrax tradition here.”
“You can thank me if it works.” Lincoln takes out a key from his pocket. It’s so clever how the House of Striga makes all their charms look like regular pocket-stuff.
Lincoln steps up before Harper. “I’m going to release you now.” He lifts the key. “I need you to stay here and listen. If you scream or run, I’ll freeze you again and erase your memory.” He grips the key in his fist and clenches his fingers. It makes a crackl
ing sound as he grinds the item in his palm. Purple dust cascades from his hand to the grass below.
Harper moves. She doesn’t scream or run, which is the good news. The bad news is that she looks terrified out of her freaking mind. “What…What did you do to me?”
Lincoln pulls out another item from his pocket. This time, it’s a small feather. “It’s not important what I did, but who I really am. I’m about to give you a great gift, Harper. I’ll give you the ability to witness you my true nature and allow you to retain the memory. This doesn’t happen very often.” He places the tiny feather between his palms and presses them together. When he pulls his hands apart, the feather is gone.
I gasp. The feather may be gone, yet now? Lincoln has wings. Beautiful, white angel wings that shimmer with silvery light. I’ve never seen anything so lovely, and I have an archangel for a father.
“Wow,” croaks Harper.
I couldn’t agree more. Of course, I knew Lincoln was part angel. The archangel Aquila is his grandmother. However, he never shows his angelic side like I display my demonic nature. If you’re from the after-realms, my tail is really hard to miss.
I open and close my mouth, trying to speak. Finally, I’m able to whisper a few words. “You’re beautiful.”
Lincoln brushes his fingers along my jawline. “As are you.”
“When were we getting to the angel wing part of our relationship? Because I think I really like this.”
“Sometime Sunday night, I think.”
So this is a post-wedding thing, showing your girl your wings or whatever. I’m about to pry for more details when I realize that Harper is almost hyperventilating. I can ask about wings later.
Harper grasps her hands by her throat. “What do you want of me, oh angel?”
Whoa. Talk about a change of attitude. I have some angelic blood in me. I wonder if I can sprout the wings from time to time. Another item to research later.
“We’re here for a magical book—a codex,” says Lincoln. “It’s supposed to be hidden in Headmaster Prescott’s library. However, we checked all over his office and couldn’t find anything.”
Harper grips her elbows and sways. “This is a lot to take in.”
Lincoln steps closer. “We need your help. Could there be another library on the island?”
Harper stares at the ground for a long minute before she mentally regroups. “The teachers say that Headmaster Prescott used to be obsessed with his books. He changed, though. All he cares about these days is some lady.”
Well. That’s not helpful in the slightest.
“So nothing else on a library?” asks Lincoln.
“I’m afraid not.”
Okay. Maybe Harper doesn’t know anything more about a library, but perhaps she could help in other areas. “What do you know about Jeeves?”
“The old guy?”
“That’s the one,” says Lincoln. “If I wanted to get in touch with him, what would I do? Are there other boats we could take to the shore?”
“No, nothing. Jeeves is the only way to reach the island.”
My shoulders slump. “That sucks.”
“You’re telling me.” A shiver rolls across Harper’s shoulders. “We’re trapped here. No phone calls. No letters. No way back to the mainland. One girl tried swimming her way there, but she got hypothermia. It was only luck that the old guy grabbed her into his boat.”
“I see.” Lincoln’s eyes gleam with promise. My man’s working on a plan. I can tell. “That’s very useful information. Thank you, Harper.”
“So that’s all you need me for?”
“Only one more thing. Never tell anyone what you saw today. The fact that people like me exist is a great secret. And if you find out anything about the codex or the boatman, find us and let us know right away.”
“I will. I promise.”
Lincoln takes my hand. “Let’s get to the docks. Quickly.” We race off into the woods, leaving a stunned Harper standing on the practice green.
“That was nice of you to allow her to keep her memory,” I say.
“I wish I could take credit for being kind, but I’m not. We might need her again before this is all over.” He rubs his hand over his shoulder, and the wings disappear, which is a bummer.
It takes me a few beats to stop focusing on the missing wings and go back to what this means for Harper. I know my guy well enough to know that he doesn’t break tradition easily. Lincoln has more in store for Harper. “So that means…what?”
“Once this is all over, I’ll come back and wipe her memory clean.” His hand tightens in mine. “As long as I live, no one except you will ever recall seeing my wings. They are the essence of my soul, and as such, they are yours alone to see.”
I can’t help it. My heart warms with those words. And even though we’re racing off to find a crazy old man who may have a coin-shaped key to Hell, I can’t help but feel mighty pleased with myself.
It’s not every girl who gets to see her man’s wings before her wedding day.
Chapter Twenty
Lincoln leads us on a zigzag path through the woods. This is yet another bonus of being in a relationship with an expert hunter—you never get lost in the forest. In no time, we reach the dock. It’s late morning now. A low mist hangs over the lake. The mainland lies hidden under a shroud of white. Above us, the sky hangs heavy with clouds.
There’s no sign of Jeeves. Or whatever his real name is.
I turn to Lincoln. “How will we summon him?”
“Jeeves is a protector, just like Cryptan was. Once we’re on his territory, he’ll sense us.”
“That’s right. He said he could sense the items he protected as well as when people came close.”
Too bad he didn’t detect and block whoever killed him. A weight settles into my soul. Cryptan didn’t deserve what happened to him.
Focus, Myla.
I press my palms into my eyes and get my head back into the game. A memory appears. “Harper told that story about the girl who almost drowned. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Cryptan could tell when someone was approaching the Vault. Perhaps the boatman has a similar skill and used it to rescue the student.”
“Makes sense.”
“Only one way to know for certain.” Lincoln marches onto the gravel-heavy shore, crouches down, and sets his hand in the water. When he speaks again, his voice is low and regal. “I call to the protector of Lucifer’s coin. You are needed right away.”
Long seconds pass. Nothing happens. Bummer.
I scan the shoreline. Lincoln’s supposed to be teaching gym class right now. Will Prescott notice that my guy has taken off? Another agonizing minute passes before Lincoln leans back on his launches. “We’re missing something.” He looks over to me. “Any ideas?”
Rubbing my neck, I consider the possibilities. “No offense, but maybe it’s you.”
His brows lift. “It’s never me.”
“Seriously. I’m certain that the old dude noticed my tail before. Did he ever look at you strangely?”
“Not at all.”
“So, maybe he can sense my supernatural side more easily. My great scala-ness. Let me give it a try.” Kneeling beside Lincoln, I gently set my hand into the water. Cold liquid prickles across my skin. I’m about to repeat the words that Lincoln said when my tail decides to get into the act. With a great splash, it dive-bombs into the lake, sending a plume of spray over Lincoln and me. Looks like someone is excited to get into the action. I roll my eyes. “Thanks, boy.”
Suddenly, a rhythmic splashing echoes across the lake. My heart kicks into overdrive. That’s definitely the sound of oars hitting the water…And I didn’t even say anything. A moment later, the small red rowboat breaks through the mist. It’s Jeeves.
I exhale and turn to Lincoln. “We were right. He is definitely a protector, same as Cryptan.”
“And he’s still here, which means that the coin remains.”
The boat
moves smoothly across the water until it pulls up beside the dock. Jeeves tosses a heavy rope across one of the cleats, keeping his small vessel in place. Lincoln and I rush to stand nearby on the dock. This is the kind of conversation you want to whisper.
“Good morrow to you both.” Jeeves looks as old and wrinkly as ever. His gray beard seems extra-fluffy today. “I can greet you properly now, Great Scala.”
That’s a shocker. “You know who I am?”
“I’ve been alive a long time. I’ve met a Scala before. Your energy is unique.” Jeeves pulls the lapels of his blue pea coat more tightly around him. “What can I do for you both?”
“We’re looking for Lucifer’s coin,” says Lincoln.
“Sorry to say, that’s hidden on the island. Even I don’t know exactly where it is.”
Wait, what? “So what are you protecting, exactly?”
“Access to the island. It’s enchanted so this boat’s the only way on or off.”
My bullshit-o-meter is going off in a big way. “And that’s it.”
Lincoln folds his arms over his chest. “He also guards the incantation.”
Jeeves shudders. “That’s right. I guard the parchment that contains the incantation. The coin is no good without it.”
“And where is that incantation, exactly?” asks Lincoln.
I raise my pointer finger. “Good question.”
Jeeves twists his gnarly fingers through his beard. “Let me think, now. I gave the parchment away words out once, a long time ago. Can’t remember the name, actually.”
“Try harder.” Lincoln’s talking about an octave lower than normal. He’s getting pissed.
“Ah, I remember. I gave it to a thrax male many hundreds of years ago. He had a spell.” His face crinkles into a hopeful look. “He didn’t get the coin, though. No one’s found that yet.”
“And the name of the dude you gave it to?” I cross my fingers. Maybe Dad got bad intel. He could have coughed up that parchment to anyone. It didn’t have to be Acca.
Jeeves stares at his hands. “King Archard the Bloody.”
Oh crap.
Bloody Archard. Even I’ve heard of that guy. He was the last Acca king and a real bastard, too. In fact, Bloody Archard was the whole reason Aquila had to haul her archangel cookies down to Antrum in the first place. She defeated Bloody Archard, fell in love with a thrax named Ryder, had some kids, and—BOOM—the House of Rixa was born.
Acca (Angelbound Origins Book 3) Page 17
