“Lucas,” I breathed. With a sickening twist of fear, I pictured Karayan, broken and bleeding on the basement floor, ringed around by Guardsmen. “What if it’s Karayan?”
Lucas’s lips tightened. He didn’t like Karayan, but she’d saved all our lives the night Ais had died. And whatever he might feel for her, he didn’t like the thought of her at the mercy of the Guardsmen any more than I did.
“Who’s Karayan?” Seth asked.
Lucas and I looked at one another, searching for the right answer. After a moment, I turned to Seth. “A friend.” I glanced back at Lucas. He nodded. “I have to know, Lucas.”
Lucas blanched. “You can’t go over there.”
“If I cloaked myself—?”
“No,” Lucas said, catching my hand. “Even if they don’t have a spotter over there—” He swallowed, looking sick. “You’re not going to be able to get her out. You’ll just get yourself—” He stopped. But I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he was thinking.
“You guys think—you think they’re going to kill someone?” Seth asked.
“We don’t even know if it’s her they’ve got,” Lucas said.
“I’m going to find out.” I turned my thoughts to Karayan, composing my mind.
I could feel the barrier between physical reality and dream reality like a shifting curtain. I closed my eyes and pictured pushing against it, meaning to step into the dream to find her. Instead, I felt myself divide into a physical Braedyn and a dream Braedyn, both tied together by my consciousness. It was a uniquely disorienting feeling - I felt like I was halfway between realities. I could sense my body, even as I watched it from outside. And - from this in-between perspective - I could also see the vast darkness of the universal dream, swirling with the pinpoints of billions of minds, some awake, some asleep.
I sensed Karayan in my conscious mind, and felt her notice me. Suddenly we were together in this in-between space.
Braedyn?
Karayan? Is that you?
You called me, I felt her exasperation through our connection. I wasn’t aware you could drunk dial via telepathy.
I breathed out in a rush, my body giving voice to my amazement. Seth and Lucas looked at me.
“What? What is it?” Lucas asked.
“I’m talking to her right now,” I said.
“Talking?” Lucas gaped at me. I held up a finger. It took all my concentration to maintain the connection.
Are you okay? I asked Karayan.
Yeah... are you okay? There was a slightly mocking tone to her voice, but I didn’t care.
“She’s okay,” I told the guys. Lucas’s face eased, and I felt a surge of warmth toward him.
Is there a point to this little tête-à-tête? Karayan’s impatience was almost palpable.
The Guardsmen captured someone, I explained. We were afraid it was you.
You’re checking up on me? I felt Karayan’s surprise through our link. And, more than that, I could feel that she was moved by my concern.
Not that it makes us BFFs or anything, I said. And through our link, I could feel Karayan’s soft chuckle. But if they don’t have you, I asked, who could it be? Are there any other Lilitu here?
I felt a hesitation, sensed that Karayan knew something and was debating whether or not she wanted to tell me. Finally, I felt her give a resigned sigh. Not yet.
That sounds ominous, I replied.
The Lilitu know the final battle is coming sooner rather than later. Like, a lot sooner. And Puerto Escondido is ground zero. In fact, now might be a good time to pack up all your little Guard friends and get the hell out of town.
Nice try, but we’ve got some unfinished business here.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
How many are coming?
I don’t know, Karayan replied. A lot.
When you say a lot, what are we talking? 10? 50?
You’re not ready for this, Karayan answered grimly. Almost all of the Lilitu in this world are gearing up for war. That’s got to be over 200.
200? I felt my breath rush out of my lungs sharply. Lucas and Seth watched me with concern, but I shook my head. I needed to finish this conversation.
200 on this side of the seal, Karayan corrected. There could be thousands on the other side, lining up for the moment that thing pops open. For a long moment, my mind was too numb to form a response. I felt Karayan’s worry. Braedyn? You still there?
We can’t fight that many, I told her, feeling faint.
Yeah. I felt her smile humorlessly. I believe I’ve already said something to that effect.
I closed my eyes, steeling myself against the panic that threatened to overwhelm me. Be careful, I urged. The Guard is coming here, too. They’ll be stepping up patrols. If you don’t want to end up in their basement, you need to stay out of sight.
What about you? she asked. For once, there was no snarky edge to her voice. What are you going to do when those spotters get to town? Because, if memory serves, keeping a pet Lilitu is kind of one of the Guard’s big no-nos. And you’re not going to be able to hide from them, living right next door.
I trust Hale, I said.
I can’t say I share your faith in the Guard. But then she added, grudgingly, Though, if they’re smart, they’ll recognize what a powerful ally they have in you.
Karayan, you could join us, I started.
No.
So you’re on their side? I couldn’t keep the judgment out of my thoughts, but if Karayan sensed it, she didn’t seem to care.
I’m on my side, she said. Perfectly content with my seat on this fence.
So what’s the plan? Just wait the battle out, see who wins?
I couldn’t have put it better myself.
You’re going to have to pick a side eventually.
I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree about that, she said. Take care of yourself, Braedyn.
I released the connection, letting my consciousness flood back into physical reality. Karayan’s presence faded from my mind. Lucas and Seth waited on pins and needles. I wished I had better news for them.
Dad came home the next morning to find us slumped on the couch, asleep. We’d tried to wait up for him, finally passing out sometime after two o’clock. I’d fallen into a dreamless sleep. It was rare, but it gave my mind a chance to rest.
Dad didn’t look like he’d had any sleep. He gathered us into the dining room. We sat around the table, rubbing our eyes.
“They caught the Thrall,” Dad said.
Lucas and I traded a look, suddenly awake.
“What—what did she say?” Seth asked. “Did she tell you who the incubus is?”
“She was a Thrall,” Dad said gently. “She didn’t say much.”
“What about Gretchen? Could she sense any kind of connection between the Thrall and whoever turned her?” Lucas asked.
Dad shook his head, solemn. “It seems like Thane was right. Incubi seem to operate on a different... frequency than regular Lilitu.”
“But—you were gone all night,” I said, stunned. “Didn’t you learn anything from her at all?”
“Yes. We learned two things.” Dad took a moment to compose himself. “Seth, the first thing we managed to get out of her—this Thrall was the one who killed your mom. There’s no doubt in our minds now, the incubus was behind Angela’s death.”
Seth stared at Dad. It didn’t come as a surprise to us, but hearing the confirmation of our suspicions still hurt. He cleared his throat. “Did she say why?”
“Yeah. That’s the second thing we learned.” Dad folded his hands. It almost looked like he was getting ready to pray. “For the last several years, Angela’s been researching rumors of a mythical weapon. That research led her to the story about the incubus who attacked the mission all those centuries ago.”
Seth’s hands tightened on the edge of the couch with every word Dad spoke. “Yeah, that weird knife. She was obsessed with it for a while. But, I don’t understand. What doe
s that have to do with—?”
“We think the incubus is here for that weapon. We think he believes it is the one way to secure victory for the Lilitu. And Angela was the only human alive who knew where it was hidden.”
Five days left until the solstice, and we were no closer to finding the incubus than we’d been the day Angela had first told us about him.
That afternoon, after they’d recovered from their grueling night, I told Dad, Hale, and Gretchen about the conversation I’d had with Karayan. They listened to me carefully, sitting around our dining room table. I could see the fear gripping each of them as I related what Karayan had told me. 200 Lilitu on this side of the seal, untold numbers on the other side. All waiting for someone to open the seal so they could flood into this world and reclaim what they saw as their birthright. And yet, even after I’d explained everything, the Guard still wouldn’t agree that the ritual—our only known chance of keeping that seal closed—was the right move.
“We have to wait for Clay,” Dad insisted.
“For how much longer?” I asked, exasperated.
“The solstice isn’t for another five days. We can wait a little while longer,” Dad said.
“And if we miss our window?” I asked, frustrated.
“Right now, our primary goal has to be keeping that weapon out of the incubus’s hands,” Hale said. “There will be another window.”
I stared at him, stricken. “Yeah, in 20 years.”
Hale looked at his hands, miserable. “The point is, this solstice is not our last chance to attempt the ritual, once we’ve had time to research it properly.”
“But it’s my last chance,” I said. “You want my help to defeat the Lilitu, right? So let me help. Locking the seal could make a real difference in this war.” Hale wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Dad?” I turned to Dad. He couldn’t look at me either. “Dad, please.”
Dad stood abruptly. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely, but he looked at Hale as he said it. Hale nodded, and Dad left the room.
I turned back to Hale. “Why?” It was all I could manage.
“We’ve been fooled before,” Hale said simply. “Whenever something looks too good to be true, it usually is.”
“No.” Tears burned in my eyes. “Not this time. This time it’s real.”
“We can’t know that,” Hale started.
I stood, ready to blurt out everything. That I had the ingredients for the ritual. That I knew where the vessel was. That all I needed was his blessing, and I could bring this whole nightmare to an end. But something stopped me. I could see it in his face. Whoever this Clay was, Hale wouldn’t risk going against him, even if not acting meant losing the war.
“Screw it,” I muttered. I turned to leave. “I’m going to get something to eat.”
“Braedyn,” Hale called. “Stop. There’s something else we have to discuss.”
“What more is there to say?” I snapped, pausing at the entrance to the foyer.
“I’m calling the spotters back.”
Icy fear flooded into my veins. “Am I supposed to move into the attic or something?”
“No. We’re going to station them at the edge of town with small units of Guardsmen. As far as the Lilitu are concerned, this is now a closed city. No one in, and no one out.”
I heard Dad on the stair behind me and turned. He saw my distress and opened his arms wordlessly. I moved forward into his hug, holding onto him, trying to sear this feeling into my memory.
“So this is it. The final battle is beginning.” The words felt strange on my tongue. One moment, the final battle was some abstract concept, some epic confrontation for the end of time. Then suddenly it was here, and the Guard wasn’t ready to act.
As I hugged Dad, I felt a surge of determination. The Guard might not be ready, but I was.
You wouldn’t think the end of the world was right around the corner. The Guard had stepped up patrols. We’d see them occasionally in town, walking the streets in pairs, looking for all the world like boys - albeit extremely fit ones - from the nearby college. They kept their daggers concealed beneath their jackets or stashed in their bags, ready should the need for weapons arise. Each day more and more arrived. They came in units of five or seven or 10, filling the Guard’s house until the basement alone was lined with cots to sleep 50 soldiers.
When the first spotters arrived, Hale started housing teams in empty homes on the outskirts of town. Lucas started calling them the “outposts” and the name stuck. Dad left to check on the outposts every day. He’d make rounds, gather intelligence, deliver supplies. Each spotter was charged with patrolling the five block area surrounding her outpost. Gretchen was the spotter “assigned” to the five blocks that included my home and school. In that way, Hale insured the entire town was covered—and that none of the new spotters got the chance to lay eyes on me or my secret.
Seth and I were ready. We had everything we needed for the ritual, and I knew exactly where to go to find the vessel. Seth pressed me for it’s location once, but I shut him down. When the moment was right, I would get it. Until then, better to leave it undisturbed. He didn’t look happy, but he dropped the subject after that. We had to perform the ritual on the solstice; Angela’s notes were very clear about that. It started at dawn and wasn’t complete until the light of the full moon struck the vessel that night.
So there was nothing for it but to wait. Only, the waiting was surreal. Everything else in my life was so achingly, beautifully, pedestrian. Dad insisted we continue going to school, and I can’t say I minded. Holding onto that last bit of normalcy made the coming battle feel much more like a dream than a reality.
The one rule that I was forbidden to break was this: I couldn’t tell anyone what was coming. Not Royal, not Cassie, no one. The Guard believed that knowing the truth would put civilians in more danger; Lilitu moved through the world silently, their attack was all seduction and manipulation. If we couldn’t stop the incubus from getting his weapon, or the seal from opening—the end of the world would start very slowly. Better to let my friends go on, oblivious that the extinction of humanity had begun. The alternative—telling them the truth—would only paint a target on their backs.
And so each day of school became a bittersweet, living memorial to the lives we might soon be setting aside. I tried to push the ritual out of my mind. I wanted to immerse myself in every mundane detail of my life as the days to winter solstice dwindled. Three left. Two left. And then, only one.
Friday, in first period, Cassie gripped my hand tightly as the morning announcements were read. Fiedler reminded everyone to buy their tickets for the winter musical, opening tomorrow night.
“You’re still coming to dress rehearsal tonight, right?” Cassie asked. She looked as nervous as Missy did.
I nodded. It seemed like the perfect way to keep my mind off the ritual.
The day went too quickly, slipping away even as I tried to stitch it into my memory. Seth, Lucas, and I shared a quiet dinner after school, killing time until the dress rehearsal began.
When we returned to campus at six, the sun was just dipping below the horizon in the west.
Inside, the theater was a bustle of energy and nerves. Cassie hovered by the glass doors to the lobby’s entrance. She lit up when she saw us, and beckoned us inside.
“I’ve saved us some seats,” she said. “Right in the center.”
For a dress rehearsal, the theater was more crowded than I’d expected. We walked down the steps of one aisle and took our seats. I felt someone glaring at me. I looked around. Amber and Ally scowled down at me from a few rows behind. Of course they were here; they’d want to support their friend Missy. I turned my back to them, putting them out of my thoughts. I wasn’t going to let them ruin tonight.
The lights dimmed, and the music began. I hadn’t expected anything too spectacular, so I was completely transported by the musical that unfolded. Cassie’s costumes were just one piece of an inspired production. Missy—I couldn’t believe
how well she sang. Lancelot was played by a sophomore guy I’d never paid much attention to before, but after this performance I was pretty sure he’d be mobbed by girls for the rest of his career at Coronado Prep. Even the new Mortimer was great.
Lucas took hold of my hand halfway through the first song, and we sat together, watching the show, sharing the warm energy of that simplest of touches.
When the lights came up for intermission, I turned to Cassie. No part of me had to force enthusiasm.
“Cassie, it’s—it’s amazing.”
“You think so?” But she was beaming ear to ear. No one in that theater could deny it was a great show. “It’s all Mr. Hart,” she breathed. “He’s the amazing one.”
My enthusiasm dampened a little, but I shrugged this off. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Amber, sneaking out the back of the theater, dialing her cell. Her eyes snagged on me, and for half a second I saw the glimmer of something that sent an electric current of alarm through my body.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
Seth and Lucas turned to congratulate Cassie. I slipped out of the theater, looking for Amber in the lobby. She was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around, then caught a flash of motion through the glass doors at the entrance to the lobby.
Amber was pacing in front of the theater. I walked out of the building in time to catch the end of her conversation.
“Right. Just be careful. I owe you one.” Amber hung up her cell with a self-satisfied smirk and turned back to the theater. When she saw me, she froze.
“What was that?” I asked.
Amber’s smile broadened. She shrugged. “A private conversation.” She walked past me back to the theater. But before she opened the door she turned. “Oh, you’re going to want to stick around. You won’t want to miss the after-show.” Amber reached for the handle, but I slapped the palm of my hand against the glass door, preventing her from pulling it open. “Not this again,” she said. “I thought it was clear after the last time you tried—unsuccessfully—to threaten me. I don’t negotiate with Lilitu.”
Incubus (The Daughters Of Lilith) Page 23
