“So, have you had any side effects?” I ask, sitting on the foot of his bed.
Shaking his head slowly, Archie replies, “Nope, just antsy to get out of here and see how Napoleon’s doing.”
“Do you, um, remember anything about last night?” I ask slowly.
Picking at a thread on his blanket, Archie seems to be stalling, though he could simply be trying to remember the details that brought him here. “I know there was a fight,” he says. “And I took a bit of a beating.”
I look over at Arla, and she’s thinking what I’m thinking, that Archie doesn’t remember what happened to him. He doesn’t remember seeing Jess, nor does he understand that he isn’t completely human any longer. He was saved, but he’s been turned into something new, something that at the moment doesn’t have a name. For the time being, I think it’s best to keep this information from him. Let him concentrate on his recovery and his boyfriend.
“The doc said Nap’s going to pull through,” Caleb shares. “But it’ll be a while before you two can get, um, you know, all physical and stuff.”
“You’re such an a-hole!” Archie jokes. “The ‘and stuff’ part can wait. Nap and I don’t have to put the lay in relay-tionship.”
“Ooh good one, Winter!” Caleb shouts.
Watching my boyfriend and Archie high-five each other, I smile. But it isn’t genuine. I’m thrilled that Archie has fully recovered from the attack on his life and that he and Napoleon seem to have a sweet relationship, but the facts remain—Napoleon is still part of Them. Just because he survived his sister’s assault, doesn’t mean she won’t try to kill him again. Why, I have no idea, since there need to be three of them to realize Orion’s power. Could be that she now has enough power without him or that she just wants to get rid of Napoleon before he finds a way to get rid of her. Whatever the reason, their family feud is far from over. But Archie and Napoleon’s love affair might be.
“Something’s wrong.”
Arla is pressing her fingers into her forehead. I know she isn’t referring to herself, but to her psychonjoined twin.
“Napoleon?” I ask.
She nods her head furiously. The pain seems to be escalating; it’s a struggle for her to form words. “I love you.”
What? What is Arla talking about?
“I love you . . . Archie.”
She wasn’t making sense because she wasn’t the one talking; Napoleon was. Why does Nap’s sentiment sound dangerously close to a good-bye?
“Nap!” Archie cries out. “Arla, where is he?”
We follow Arla as she runs out of the room and down the corridor in the opposite direction of the waiting room. She turns left at the end of the hallway, then she stops at Room 48, the same number as Luba’s room at The Retreat. This cannot be a good omen.
Inside the room, Napoleon is hooked up to a bunch of important-looking machines, but he’s sleeping. I can hear his breathing, much stronger than it was last night when he was near death. Nadine is sitting next to the bed holding Nap’s hand, while Luba is standing on the other side of the bed next to one of the machines, and Melinda is sitting on a chair next to the door. They look exactly like a worried family—their silence, their expressions, their posture—it’s totally perfect. And totally unbelievable.
“Archie, no matter what happens you have to remember one thing.”
Arla’s voice is a combination of her own and Napoleon’s, as if it’s being stretched between two dimensions.
“You made my life worth living.”
“Nap!” Archie cries out, first looking at the boy lying in the hospital bed and when he doesn’t respond, at Arla. “What’s going on? What are you talking about?!”
“He’s trying to tell you good-bye.”
Before Archie can respond to Nadine’s comment, she holds up her hand, and the door slams shut. She’s lured us here, I’m not sure why, but whatever she has planned, she wants witnesses. Smirking, she waves her hand in a semicircle and stops time. Everyone in the room freezes; everyone in the room resembles a storefront mannequin; everyone except me. She wanted an audience all right, but an audience of one.
“How did you do it, Dominy?” Nadine asks.
I have no idea what she’s talking about. And I don’t want to waste time trying to figure it out. I want to get out of this room. The problem is, I may not be stuck in time, but once again I’m stuck to the floor. I can’t move.
“How did I do what?” I reluctantly ask.
“Kill Rayna,” Nadine says sweetly.
I try to yank my foot off of the floor with such force that I almost topple over. I grab onto Caleb’s arm and gasp; he feels like stone. Please don’t let this spell she’s cast be irreversible. “I didn’t kill Rayna,” I protest. “You did.”
Laughing heartily, Nadine replies, “Oh no, don’t you remember? I sucked her youth out of her, but you were the one who actually killed her.”
“Because she begged me to after what you did to her!”
“I remember now,” she says, ignoring my accusation. “Didn’t you just put your hand over her mouth, like this?”
Mesmerized, I watch Nadine press her hand over her brother’s mouth. I was right; she is going to try and kill her brother again. I just had no idea she would make another attempt so soon.
“No!” I scream. Lunging forward I grasp at the air, but Nadine is out of my reach, and I only succeed in falling over onto the ground. Looking up I see Napoleon’s body start to shake; he’s trying to fight back, but he’s so weak from last night’s battle; there’s no way he has enough strength to prevent Nadine from succeeding. If only I could break free from this spell, if only I could tear her hand away from her brother’s mouth. But maybe I can fight back another way.
“Don’t you need three of you to fully realize Orion’s power?” I ask, struggling to finally stand up.
“You’re very perceptive,” Nadine replies sarcastically. “Yes, we do.”
“Then stop this!” I beg. “Without Napoleon you can never reach your potential! You need him.”
“Not any longer,” she replies.
What? How can that be? I didn’t think her mother had any power; she wasn’t born with it like the twins were, and I’m guessing that their grandfather was only able to bestow his power onto Luba because he was the original recipient. If there were a way for Melinda to acquire Orion’s legacy, she would’ve already done it.
“Nadine, you can’t do this!” I cry. “Please don’t! You can’t kill your own brother!”
“He made his choice,” she replies calmly. “He doesn’t want to be part of this family, so I’m simply granting his wish.”
“But you’re only going to screw yourself!” I shout. “Without him, you and Luba are nothing.”
Nadine doesn’t care about her brother; it doesn’t even appear as if she cares about her grandmother, which is odd because I thought she worshipped the woman. No, it looks as if Nadine wants all the power for herself. And she’s about to eliminate one member of the competition.
Pressing down harder onto Napoleon’s mouth, Nadine clutches her stomach. “We don’t need my brother any longer,” she declares. “Not now that I’m pregnant.”
What?! Pregnant?! All this time we thought Nadine was getting fat, but she was just gaining weight because she’s pregnant. Stunned, I feel my legs falter, and despite how inhuman Caleb feels I grab onto his arm again to steady myself. Caleb? No. No! Did she seduce my boyfriend and turn him into her child’s father? “Not Caleb!” I scream.
“I could be carrying Prince Caleb’s child,” she says. “Or ... maybe not.”
“Tell me!”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Nadine replies, chuckling softly.
“Nadine, I swear to God if you’ve done anything to Caleb to make him father your child, I will . . .”
“What, Dominy?!” Nadine interrupts. “What exactly are you going to do? Haven’t you already learned that there’s nothing you can do to stop me?”
>
Do not take the bait, Dominy! Do not let her change the subject!
“Have you noticed I’m not always the best student?” I crack. “Now, tell me, is Caleb the father?!”
“There are so many eligible bachelors in this little town. It really could be anyone,” she says, smiling not only because she likes taunting me, but also because she knows she holds my future in her hands. “But don’t ask me again, because you know how I like to keep my secrets.”
When Napoleon flatlines, my first thought is how lucky he is to have finally escaped this madness. My second thought is to scream.
“Why?! Why are you doing this?!”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Nadine asks. “For the hunter to be truly powerful, there must be the hunted—you. That’s why we came back here just before your sixteenth birthday when the curse began. You gave us reason and purpose and power.”
I can just as easily take it away.
“And if I refuse to play along with your sick game?”
“You won’t because Grandmother chose well,” Nadine replies. “The wolf is a hunter too, and as long as the wolf spirit lives within you, you won’t be able to resist. You won’t be able to stop trying to turn the tables and right the wrongs. You will hunt with as much passion and energy and guile as we will. But in the end, Dominy, we will win.”
“You really think so?” I ask.
“Unlike you, Dominy, I understand that to be a true hunter you must be able to kill. It’s the only way to maintain balance in the world,” Nadine rationalizes. “And it’s a lesson you’ll never learn.”
She has absolutely no idea that I’m becoming an excellent student. “Don’t be so sure of that.”
Napoleon’s funeral was the exact opposite of Jess’s, quick and quiet. No one spoke other than Father Charles who, since he didn’t really know Nap very well, had a difficult time personalizing the sermon. Luba, Melinda, and Nadine, the three generations of evil, sat in the front row wearing respectful black outfits and claimed that they were too distraught due to their loss to have a repast. They thanked everyone for coming to the abridged church service, then slinked into a waiting black limousine, and probably drove off somewhere to celebrate in private.
Caleb and I sat on either side of Archie, who remained stoic throughout the brief ceremony. But when they lowered Nap’s casket into the ground, he finally broke down and cried in Caleb’s arms. I watched them with such pride. My friend and my boyfriend, two guys consoling one another, acting exactly how two friends should.
I wish I knew how to act. I don’t know if I’ll ever tell Archie exactly how Napoleon died, because I know that he’d want revenge. No, some things are better kept secret. Even if that secret can change a person’s life.
“Are you okay, Barn?”
Ever since I broke the news to him that Napoleon died, my brother has been acting strangely. Even he’s noticed it. “Ever feel like you’ve been sleepwalking?” he asks. Before I can say yes, he continues. “I feel like this whole year has been a fog.”
That’s because when you haven’t been furious with me about Daddy’s death, you’ve been under a spell cast by Luba and Nadine.
“And how do you feel now?” I ask, looking up into his eyes that remind me so much of my father.
“Like the fog’s lifting,” he replies. His words are followed by a hopeful smile. “That’s a good thing, right?”
Depends upon what’s on the other side of the mist. “Yes,” I say instead. “That’s a very good thing.”
And who knows, maybe it is. Maybe this is a sign that Barnaby is finding his way home; perhaps someday I’ll have my brother back. Until then at least I have my friends.
The five of us are standing in a silent line in front of Napoleon’s grave. Caleb, Archie, Arla, Jess, and me. We’re thinking about the body of the boy trapped within the mahogany casket poised in its final resting place, but not yet covered with dirt. He started out as an outsider, someone we weren’t sure we could trust, but once we got to know him, we knew that he was our friend. A friend who had the misfortune of having Nadine as his sister.
Just as we’re about to leave, we hear a rumbling underneath our feet. The world is starting to shake, not enough to cause damage, but enough to capture our attention. Suddenly from the depths of the earth, from somewhere unseen, a swarm of butterflies rises up from the open grave and hovers over Napoleon’s casket. It’s a gorgeous sight, a cluster of bright, happy colors, reminding us of what was lying deep within our friend’s soul.
I watch as one single butterfly, its wings a vibrant shade of violet, breaks from the crowd and lands on Archie’s waiting finger. They stare at each other long enough for Archie to understand what’s happening to him; he’s being given a sign that his boyfriend is going to be okay. Tears slide down Archie’s cheeks, but they’re joined by a beaming smile. Then the butterfly lets go of Archie’s finger to return to the group that’s still waiting for him, and together we watch them as they fly upward into the pale blue sky.
If I didn’t know it already, I know it now: The bee didn’t kill the butterfly; she just gave him the freedom to live his life in a place where there’s peace and joy and love. A place without a moon or stars. A place where the wolf and the girl could be free to roam without being hunted.
Maybe someday I’ll find a place like that too.
Epilogue
The Weeping Lady is staring down at me. The leaves on her body are lush and deep green and vibrant. The warm early-summer breeze is making them tremble, so it looks like she’s growing restless of her confinement. But it’s just an illusion; she’s not trying to escape, not just yet. For now, she knows this is where she belongs. She and I are very much the same.
“Freedom is coming,” she says.
I know. I can feel it in my gut. “I’m not in any rush to leave,” I reply.
The grass I’m lying on feels as soft as my fur. I spread my arms out and move them up and down, trying to create angel wings. But grass isn’t like snow; it doesn’t move; it can’t be easily manipulated to create something new. Each blade of grass bends, but only briefly, then it stands up again as straight as a soldier. Like the honey that clings to the side of a jar refusing to let go, refusing to leave its body, refusing to leave everything that it calls home.
That’s how I feel right now. Even though I have every reason to want to run away from here and never look back, I know this is where I must stay. For now at least.
This is where my life started, and this is where my life changed. And not only my life. Archie and Arla have both been damaged in ways we don’t yet fully understand, thanks to Luba’s vendetta. Pieces of my brother’s life have been stolen by Luba. I don’t know what they’ve done to him, what anti-Dominy seeds they’ve planted in his mind, but for now he seems more like his normal self. And worst of all, Nadine is pregnant with a son or daughter who has the potential to be born with a whole new kind of evil. But who knows? Maybe this child will represent hope; maybe he or she will inherit some of Napoleon’s goodness and refuse to carry on her mother’s legacy of black magic.
For some of us the journey is over. For Essie and Rayna and Napoleon, this is where their lives ended. But for others the journey is just starting. Caleb starts college next year. He hasn’t decided where he wants to go, and as much as I’d like to be selfish and keep him close to me, I will not let him base his decision on what school to attend by its proximity to me. It’s his life, his choice. I’ve finally realized that our invisible string is really, really long, so it doesn’t matter if he goes to Timbuktu University halfway around the world; I know that we’ll still remain connected.
It’s crazy, despite all the heartache and doubt and sadness, the light of day really brings with it new hope. And an old friend.
Wrapping my finger around the sunlight dancing near Jess’s body, I begin to draw the outline of a yellow Hello Kitty in the air. “Do you really think things are going to get worse?”
“I know the
y are, Dom,” she replies. “This town of ours is about to become a war zone, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.” When she sees my air drawing, she squeals. “Subarashi! You made Yellow Kitty!”
For someone who just declared war, Jess seems very distracted.
“There’s nothing we can do about it right now,” she says. “So we might as well enjoy ourselves, embrace the calm before the storm.”
“Or the sunlight before the darkness.”
When I look up into the sky, the light is so strong I have to close my eyes. I can feel the warmth spread onto my face like armor; the sunshine clamps down onto my skin, and a burning sensation spreads out all over my body. It’s like my transformations, but painless. When I open my eyes, the sun is no longer blinding. I can see through the sunshine; I can see past the light; I can see that beyond the glare and the pain and the despair there is something on the other side. I don’t know what it is, but I know that it’s waiting for me. Could be a curse, could be a blessing, but whatever it is, it gives me purpose.
I reach out, and Jess’s hand is right where I expect it to be, right where she’s always said it would be, waiting for mine. I don’t want to move just yet. I want to lie here on the grass and bask in the sunglow for a while longer. But when I do get up, when I’m ready to continue my journey, I will remember what everyone—but especially Jess—has been trying to make me understand.
I’ll remember that the wolf and I are inseparable. That no matter how lonely and scared and anxious we each may feel, we can never be alone. So even though I may not always feel blessed, I have to admit that this curse, with all the new and amazing and wonderful things it’s shown and taught me, may actually turn out to be a blessing after all.
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