“Leave before you get in trouble,” she said.
“We’re here for a school project,” Mauricio said, taking out his school ID. “Could we just—”
“Bru, come here.” A woman appeared on the front steps, wearing a white lab coat. With a side glance in our direction, Bru returned to the facility. The woman came up to us at the gate and swung it open. It was Dr. Bensimhon, a colleague of my father’s. I hid behind the collar of my jersey. “Let me see your IDs,” she said coolly, phone pressed to one ear. “If you are not part of the formal investigation, the police will take you for trespassing.”
This wasn’t good. Especially with the ID in my pocket.
Someone from behind placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Doctor. These are my new interns.”
Doctor Bensimhon regarded the woman at my side with familiarity. “Detective Zatorre,” she said, hanging up the phone. “Terrific. More mongrels to ravage my property.” Dr. Bensimhon glanced at us and closed the gate. “We are sitting down for dinner now. Please tell your interns to call before arriving in the future.” She set the lock and returned to the facility.
“Mi madre hermosa,” Mauricio said timidly. “Tu estas—” He stopped talking as she rounded on him, eyes slitted and arms crossed. The detective began pushing Mauricio’s wheelchair down the sidewalk. While Clover and I followed, this woman spoke Spanglish at one-hundred miles an hour.
“Hijo, that woman could have expelled you,” she snapped. “Que estabas pensando? This is a serious case.” I let out a sigh and pulled on her sleeve. She stopped to look at me. I removed my cap and sunglasses.
“Please don’t be angry at him,” I said. “This is my fault.”
She wrinkled her brow. “And you are?”
“Lava Rowe-Darkus,” I said. “The daughter of Darian Darkus.”
From her expression, I knew what she was thinking. “But you…”
“Aren’t black,” I finished for her, shaking my head. “My sister looked Sudanese like Dad, but I look Irish like Mom.” I handed her my school ID. “Mauricio was trying to help me figure out my past.” After a moment, Detective Zatorre gave the ID back to me.
“Lava,” she said. “My colleague tried to reopen this case ten years ago. He said you had no interest in being involved.”
What? When was this? “No one from your department ever asked me.”
Detective Zatorre ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “Que desastre,” she said. “Okay then. If you come by my office tomorrow and sign a waiver, I’ll make you part of my investigative team.” Clover and Mauricio high-fived. Okay. Now, the fight on both fronts began.
Aza, please help me find you and Dad.
***
Once Nez finished kicking my butt with Kibo, I washed up in the tub room, and then saw the Czar for my light training. He was standing in the gazebo, like usual. To start, he asked me to tell him a memory from my past. A happy one. After some thought, I recounted this one:
Aza and I were in my father’s study. Books were lopsided on their shelves, pens on the floor, and trash was spilling over the bin. My sister scooped me up onto his desk. “Lava-Lamp, we’re famous.” She held a document up to my nose. I took it from her to read, but could only pronounce one word in the title.
“LAZA-2?”
“Yeah. Dad named it after us.”
My father reclined further in his chair, beaming. “My latest discovery,” he said, “a growth factor that can precipitate extra lobar development in the lateral prefrontal—”
“A mouse!” Aza shrieked, leaping beside me on the desk. She stood up and pointed a trembling finger. A small white creature scurried across the room, taking refuge under the loveseat. As I approached it, Aza yelled at me: “No, don’t kill it.”
“Azura, we can’t let him live here, can we?” Dad waved his hands in the air. “And get down. You’re scuffing up the oak with those heels.” While they were squabbling, I lowered onto my belly and spoke softly to the mouse. The little guy was shaking. Where was his mother? His home? It must be scary with these big strangers around. After some time, he ran into my open hands. I freed him on the branch outside Dad’s window. When I approached Aza and Dad, my father whistled. He leaned over his desk to pat my head. “You’ve earned the Darkus Medal of Bravery, kiddo.”
Aza sat down and crossed her legs. “It’s an invisible medal,” she clarified with a wink, ceremoniously draping it over my shoulders. “Don’t ever lose it.” I brightened and turned to my father.
“Papa,” I said. “It was the option no one else thought of.” Nothing could compare to the smile he gave me.
Back in the present, my whole being was ablaze with light. It didn’t last but a few minutes, and then I faded to normalcy. Czar Renezen stepped into my space. I had almost forgotten he was there.
“Joyful memories fuel your powers,” he explained. “But you can’t just use one memory. You need more arsenal. Otherwise you’ll suffer a short fuse and immobilize yourself in battle.” Sounded reasonable to me.
“How many do I need?”
The Czar straightened his mask. “As many as you can remember,” he said. “Now tell me another one.”
***
Detective Zatorre finally allowed me to help out with interviewing. It took persistence on my part. She didn’t want my involvement to influence the patients or doctors. So we agreed that I’d dress up in a male guise while interviewing. She laminated a fake ID for me.
I had to sign off on a document beforehand. Verifying that I was an adult and knew the risks of participating in the investigation. It was a master waiver that rendered the previous document invalid. They were stapled together. The signatures on the first document, the one that said I wouldn’t be involved ten years ago, were my uncle’s. I was hurt that this had been a flat-out decision versus a conversation. I mean come on— I was seventeen at the time. That wasn’t like them at all. But in any case, I would have to keep my uncles in the dark until the investigation was over. Otherwise, things would get muddy.
My first interviewee was the young woman we had seen on the lawn. We were sitting alone in the cop van. According to my paper, this was Bruce Swords. My mouth fell open. This was Jax’s brother, and one of my childhood friends. We used to play together at Falconbridge. Our favorite game was a variation of hide-and-go seek that my father had taught us, called Hide and Transform. I still remembered running around looking for him.
“Bruce!” I yelled in the kitchen, opening a cupboard. “Bruce?” When I pulled back the pantry door, my friend hopped out in vogue pose. The broom fell out after him. “Hide… and transform,” I commanded with a finger.
On cue, Bruce shimmied around me playfully and then popped out a hip. “I am a stunning woman.” He added a hairflip.
I looked over to the person in front of me now. Wish granted, Bruce. Bruce shifted in the chair.
“So I identify as ‘she’ and go by Bru,” she clarified, gesturing towards my sheet. “No matter what that says.” I nodded a little too quickly, and hashed out my questions. Bru answered everything minimally, with guarded responses. And she said she barely knew my father, which was untrue. A little stung, I deviated from my script for the last question.
“Do you see your brother often?”
She seemed taken aback, almost like no one had ever asked this. Bru twirled the ring on her finger. “He stopped contacting me,” she said. “It’s been ten years.” After I thanked and dismissed her, Bru ducked out of the van. I stood up, gathering papers for my next set of interviews. Jax, how could you do that? How could you just go on and forget family? In my thought-thunder, I stopped in place. Wasn’t I just as guilty?
My other interviews were fruitless. Their answers were clearly rehearsed and void of truth. All stated that my father had kept himself in his lab, rarely to be seen by the patients. In my disguise, I couldn’t call them out on it, no matter how false this was. But as Lava Rowe-Darkus, I most certainly could call their bluff.
; When I brought this up to Detective Zatorre in the car, her fingers tensed on the steering wheel. Rain started coming down and she put on the windshield wipers.
“No,” she said to the glass. “You’ll only conduct interviews in disguise.”
“Then we’ll get nowhere,” I challenged. “They’re telling lies. But only someone who’s stayed at Falconbridge knows it.” I leaned into her, “I can get them to talk. I know I can.”
“Lava,” she sighed, stopping at a red light. “I called my colleague before we got ready to leave.”
“The one who tried to reopen the case?”
She nodded. “He said we needed to be very careful about using you.” Detective Zatorre reached out for my shoulder. “We can’t take a greater risk than this. For your safety.” In our silence, the windshield wipers slid noisily over the glass. The rain had picked up, and they could barely keep up with it.
To solidify her argument, Detective Zatorre stopped by her office before taking me back to Hummingbird Hollow. Her colleague had faxed over a document for me to read. It was an old medical report. In it were notes from doctors and neuropsychologists. They were caring for a young girl who had been rescued from the Falconbridge grounds; she was kidnapped. As I flipped through pictures of her injuries, things got weirder. She only had two bruises, one on each shoulder blade. And they were in the shape of handprints. According to the report, the girl had no recollection of the abduction or what happened to her. She was sent home with her mother in Heirloom.
My heartbeat became audible in my chest. No. There was no way it could be. With slow fingers, I turned back to the front page of the document. The patient’s name was indeed mine. According to the report date, I had just turned nine years old when this happened. So. That added a whole new layer to everything.
After the detective drove me home, I placed the report in my Falconbridge memory box. The old pictures were in there with it. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the kidnapping. How did such a thing happen without me realizing it? It was like my past was someone else’s. That’s how far away I felt from the truth now, and from myself. My God, look what years of hiding has done to me…
Though I had this new information to process, the interviews still left the most bitter taste in my mouth. I mean, really. My father, an academic shut in? At least there were some useful things I remembered about my past:
“Dad,” I whined. “This isn’t a doctor’s job.”
My father stood at the stovetop, whistling while ladling soup into a bowl. He carefully set the bowl on the tray I was holding. After adding utensils and napkins beside it, he led us to the patient wing.
We entered the room of a young woman. She sat up in bed at the sight of us, skin tight against her bones. I hid behind my father, but he guided me in front of him. I had the soup, after all. A man in white emerged from the bathroom and he smiled while bending down to greet me. His badge read: hospice nurse. He set up the tray in front of the young woman and her eyes lit up.
“Mm, lentil soup,” she said quietly. “My favorite. Thank you, Dr. D.” We left her to eat. In the kitchen, Dad stood at the sink to wash the pot and ladle.
“Papa,” I said, tugging on his lab coat. “Everyone says she’s weird and wants to die. Why are you nice to her?”
My father slowly rinsed the pot. He had a sud of soap on his face. “Lava, her body is too sick to take treatment,” Dad reached for a towel and started drying the dishes. He passed me the ladle to put away. “Right now, she is of sound mind to make this choice. If she is done fighting, we all must support her.” Dad placed the pot in the bottom cupboard. While he was on my level, I draped my arms around his neck. He lifted me up into a piggyback. “Remember, it’s her life, not yours.”
Chapter 14
***
Over the course of a few nights, the Czar listened to more of my past. Like he said, to maximize my power I had to recite these memories slowly and sequentially. This took all of my concentration, so I was dreading the time when I’d have to incorporate Kibo too. Nez probably felt the same way; he knew how pitiful my combat skills were.
After sustaining my blaze for about five minutes, I sat down on the gazebo steps. My light was visibly waning from my skin. I wiped my sweaty forehead and the Czar sat down beside me. “You can summon your light on command,” he said. “But you lack the stamina needed to sustain it. Think of a quick burning candle.” To be fair, Lord Batman, I was burning at both ends right now.
I took a deep breath and drew my legs to my chest. “I’m really trying,” I admitted. “But it’s so hard to make it last.”
The Czar began speaking with his gloved hands. “That’s why you train,” he said. “Just remember, illumination will blind your opponents during a battle. It will always give you the upperhand.”
Yes, he kept reminding me: I was preparing for an unnamed combat situation. At the same time, I was also supposed to be getting close to this man. Well, here goes attempt #48.
I turned to look at him. “So. I noticed you like black.” Upon inspection even his cape was shiny with scales. “Do you have a thing against color?”
The corner of his mouth curled upwards. “Saves me time in the morning.”
“Grief is a horrible thing to brand on your clothes.”
“I didn’t mean mourning.”
“The other ‘morning’ doesn’t exist here.” Without a glance in my direction, he stood up and walked away. The man truly had a knack for ending conversations.
Back in my room, I let Queen Piria in through the window. She assumed a sleepy face-plant on my comforter. Tired, as usual, from her long air travel. She asked if I had any spy updates. “I need new strategies,” I whined, falling backwards onto my bed. “The guards escort me everywhere so I can’t sneak around. And the Czar won’t talk.” I covered my face with my hands.
I felt Queen Piria land on my knuckles. “We need zolutions then,” she reasoned. “Have zou tried Waking when they don’t expect zou?” Now there was an idea. I sat up quickly with thought-storms. Even going to sleep a few hours earlier could be helpful here… I could climb down my Nightworld balcony if need be. “Alzo,” Queen Piria flew in front of my face. “Zeph will need zou zoon. Make zure to anzer when he calls.” I examined my aquarium walls. A school of guppies were floating above my head.
I pointed at them. “Will he use the fish for Morse Code or something?” After circling my head, she buzzed and tsked her way out of my window.
***
The kitchen at Silver Heights looked like one from a chain restaurant. Expansive, decorative, with padded mats for employees to stand on. And aside from a few pureed puddles on the floor, it was relatively clean. A hunched figure was scrubbing plates in a bathtub sized sink. I snuck up on him, bocking like a chicken. He nearly pounced out of his apron. I always believed Jax had a jumpy virus in utero.
“Can’t you greet people normally?” He said, threatening me with a sudsy sponge.
I swiped the sponge away from him and tapped his nose with it. “Better than not greeting them at all.” I folded my arms. “I saw Bruce.”
He dropped a bowl in the sink and rounded on me. “You went to Falconbridge? Do you have a death wish?”
I perched on a stool nearby. “I’m going again tomorrow. You’re off at five, right? Come with me.” Jax threw me a how-many-spoonfuls-of-crazy-did-you-take-this-morning look, so I kept going. “Oh come on. We just need to sneak in, see Bruce, and sneak back out. We already know primo places of entry.” He shook his head.
“Lava, you may be a superhero in your dream world, but in real life you’re not. You should be afraid after what happened to your dad.” And after what happened to me. Though I remembered nothing. Don’t get me wrong, at first I was scared. Then I felt lost. Now I was just… ready to stop hiding. And ready to find some things that I lost, Aza and Dad included.
I tossed my sponge into his water like a foul shot. “What are they going to do?” I teased. “Admit me?” At this, his bod
y became rigid. His stern eyes met mine and I relented, batting away his dark thought-clouds. “Okay how about this then,” I mused, jumping off the stool and sidling up next to him. “I need a protector to defend me against the mad scientists. You can be my domestic knight— armor up with your dish towel and scrubby brush.” The man statute actually laughed while I feigned a swoon.
“One one condition,” he said, plunging the dish towel in soapy water. He pulled it out with both hands. “Let me fix your hair first.” Before I could react, he squeezed the rag over my head. It soaked every part of me; hair was the least of my problems. Okay. Inner warrior princess mode: activated.
I yanked the faucet sprayer from its mount and assumed firefighter with my mini hose. Such a powerful stance but what a pitiful stream of water. Jax dramatically dodged left and right to appease me, then finally seized the hose. Without warning, he moved in a little closer, hand closed over mine.
Wakers: Sayonara Sleep Page 9
