by Pat Esden
The hard line of Grandfather’s mouth tightened further. He rubbed his knuckles, studying me.
My stomach tossed and turned like I’d drunk some of Selena’s special iced tea, but I kept my chin high and didn’t break eye contact.
I drew a steadying breath. “When I was on the beach with Dad, he said something that made Chase and me believe the genie’s after the lamp.”
His expression remained firm, but the corner of one eye twitched ever so slightly. “Go on.”
“I don’t think Dad’s ever seen the lamp, and neither has the genie.”
“Culus,” Chase added.
“So that’s his name.” Grandfather gave me a curt nod. “You’re right. The lamp was acquired after your father left us. There’s no chance he’s ever seen it.”
Sweat trickled down my spine. I gathered my nerve again and went on. “I think we could make a fake lamp and trick Culus into stealing it. All we have to do is make sure the lamp is from the correct time period and that the oil smells like the real stuff. Once Culus thinks he has the real lamp, he won’t have a reason to stay inside Dad.”
Grandfather turned to Selena. “You think this is a good idea as well?”
She blinked, like she was surprised he’d even thought to ask her opinion, then flipped her hair back. “Better than poisoning him.” She tsked. “Annie’s dad has a weak heart, you know.”
“Oh. We weren’t aware of that,” Grandfather said. He folded his arms across his chest. “It sounds like a good plan. But what happens when Culus tries the oil and discovers it doesn’t work? He’ll know we tricked him—and genies are a vengeful lot.”
I rubbed my neck, thinking. There had to be a solution. “Maybe we could use Kate’s memory formula as part of the fake oil. Then when Culus tries it, he won’t remember why he wanted the oil or where it came from?”
“That’s a great idea!” Zachary said. “Then we could stuff him in the lamp, like in the stories.” He scrunched up his face. “How do they make the genies do that anyway?”
Grandfather slid his hand into his jacket pocket and came out with something in his fist. “Fortunately, a courier delivered that answer late last evening,” he said to Zachary.
Zachary craned his neck, waiting for Grandfather to open his fist. “What is it?”
Taking a relieved breath, I stepped back and let everyone else crowd closer. I had a good idea what he was hiding.
Slowly, Grandfather’s fingers straightened, revealing an ornate gold ring with an onyx stone. The poison ring I’d sold for Dad.
Grandfather looked at me. “Culus purposely had himself imprisoned in this, so he could insinuate himself into your father’s life. We’re certain of that now.”
“But how?” I said.
“The ring may not have been stolen from the Met. However, we discovered the man your father acquired it from works at the Met. He also happens to be married to the woman who purchased it from you. Interesting?”
“Very much,” I said. It sure sounded like the man who sold Dad the ring could possibly have even been Taj’s supervisor. “So they were in league with Culus?”
“Most likely he offered them something irresistible—a so-called wish. What that was, isn’t clear. However, Culus’s intentions are. By having the woman buy the ring back, he hoped to ensure that its inscription couldn’t later be used to command him back inside. Culus knew your father would become irrational as the possession deepened. All the woman had to do was mention this abnormal behavior to our lawyer and . . . you know the rest. A brilliant plan, except”—a smile cracked Grandfather’s stern expression—“we now have the ring and can use the inscription.”
Selena rolled her eyes. “I hate to be a party pooper. But why are we even talking about poisoning and fake lamps? Why not just command Culus to get into the ring right now?”
“No one can command Culus as long as he’s protected by a human body,” Chase said. His voice lowered and took on a venomous tone. “But I can guarantee—once Culus has the lamp—if I challenge him to a man-to-man fight, he’ll come out of Annie’s father and try to use the fake oil to make his body rock solid.”
My chest tightened. I wasn’t sure why Chase was so confident that Culus would want to fight him, but I suspected the reason was more horrible than anything I could imagine.
I pushed that worry aside. I couldn’t afford any distractions, not right now.
“On the beach,” I said, “I told Culus a made-up story about our family finding the lamp and hiding it in the mausoleum. Even though he acted like he didn’t believe me, I’m betting he’ll go there to double-check as soon as he can sneak away.”
“Actually,” Grandfather said, “you chose a very appropriate spot. There’s access to an old tunnel up there. It leads to what was once an underground treasury. It could be the perfect place to situate the fake lamp. However, I suggest you scout it out ahead of time to make sure there’s a spot where it will look natural. Chase will also need to reset the tunnel’s lock or even your father won’t be able get inside.”
Excitement filled my voice. “I take that to mean you’re going to help us with our plan?”
He nodded. “Genies are strongest at night, that’s why we planned on administering the poison and trapping Culus this afternoon. More than anything, I’d prefer not to have to endanger James’s life.” He looked at each of us in turn. “You have until an hour before sunset. After that, we’ll have to go back to the original plan. I can’t risk all our lives—not even to save my son.”
“I understand,” I said. “But we’ll need Kate to help make the oil.”
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll say yes. Just don’t try to bully her into it.”
An involuntary smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. She was just like me. Or, perhaps, it was more correct to say, I was like her.
Everyone began discussing what needed to be done: Selena and I would go with Grandfather to talk to Kate and Olya about making the fake oil. Zachary would help scour the showcases for the best lamp to use. While the oil was being made, Chase and I would take time to scout inside the mausoleum’s secret tunnel and decide where to put the lamp. When everything was all set, whoever was sitting with Dad would have to let him slip away.
Their voices buzzed in the distance as reality chilled me to the bone. If anything happened to Dad, I’d be crushed. But was it fair to ask everyone else to risk their lives when poisoning Dad seemed to be a safer choice?
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
No. This would work. Everything would be fine.
It had to be.
One step at a time.
First, we had to talk to Kate—and that was going to be tougher than buying the contents of the Sistine Chapel from the Pope.
CHAPTER 23
Dark crystals, light crystals,
salt, rosemary, and virtuous pimpernel.
Protect this gateway. Seal the veil tight.
Protect us all, both day and night.
—Olya Freemont: Warding Spell
As soon as Kate joined us in the study, Grandfather explained everything to her, including how he’d given us until sunset to trick Culus into leaving Dad. Then he shuffled into the bathroom, leaving Selena and me to fill her in on the rest of the details.
Kate glanced at her wristwatch. “That gives you five hours and fifteen minutes.” A slight smirk crossed her lips. “Then your father will be getting a special something in his evening meal.”
Cold, furious anger crackled through my veins and my teeth clenched. I was certain Grandfather had left to see how we’d deal with Kate, but tact was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to rip her throat out.
Selena grabbed a peppermint out of a bowl on Kate’s desk and began to unwrap it slowly. “There’s something Grandfather forgot to mention. My mom can make the basic oil, but Annie thinks—” She stopped midsentence, popped the mint into her mouth, and nodded for me to finish what she’d been saying.
I met
Kate’s glare without flinching, then thought better of it. Kate was tough, but there was more to her than her haughty side. If I wanted her help, I had to put aside my ego and appeal to that part of her.
I lowered my gaze. I had to make this work. For Dad and all of us.
“Kate,” I said, in the calmest voice I could muster, “we don’t just want oil that looks and smells like the real thing, we’d like it to steal Culus’s memories as well.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you want my help for that?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure Olya could do it. But when it comes to spells and herbs, it’s obvious your knowledge is far superior. I saw your hybrid plants in the solarium, they’re amazing. Grandfather, the Professor, everyone says you’re the best. That’s what we need, a genius.”
Kate laughed. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?” she said, but pride raised her shoulders a notch.
My compliment—or my begging—had won her over. But just in case I’d read her wrong, I added, “There’s another thing we need to keep in mind. The djinn can go after the family anywhere or anytime, any of us—on business, at home. We need to show them our power. Make them respect and fear us. Your skills can do that.”
“That,” Kate said, nodding sharply, “is something I totally agree with.”
She sashayed to her desk, sat down, and picked up a pen. She glanced at Selena. “I’ll need quite a few things, and both yours and your mother’s help.” She grabbed a notepad and began jotting down a list. “The three Hs: hemlock, hemp, and henbane. Walnut bark and rhubarb seed and wild violet root. These must all be fresh.” She pointed the pen at Selena. “Don’t forget to say the proper prayers as you gather them. And I’ll need a head of cabbage and clove oil for the smell. When you have everything, bring them to the research room.”
Grandfather sauntered out of the bathroom and grinned. “This is what I like to see, all my girls working in harmony.”
Before I could stop myself, I shot him a hard look. When I realized Kate had done the same thing, my face heated. She raised her chin and I resisted doing the same. For a split second, a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, then she went back to writing the list.
As Kate and Grandfather suggested places where Selena could dig the violet roots, I walked to the fireplace and took the sea glass bobble from my pocket.
It’s not yours. Leave it with the ashes, the whisper in the back of my mind had said when I took it from the water. But now I was glad I hadn’t left it there.
Certain Kate was watching, I set the bobble on the mantel next to the cats’ cremation vases. That’s where it belonged: with the other mementoes of the past. Why Kate and Grandfather had lied to Dad didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was what they were willing to do for him right now.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” Kate said.
I glanced back. Her chin was held high, but sincere regret shone in her eyes. I nodded, then walked out the door and closed it quietly behind me.
A few minutes later, I caught up with Chase and Zachary in the foyer.
Chase was moving artifacts aside on the top shelf of the display cabinet. On his knees, Zachary was going through the drawer beneath it.
I glanced around, then hurried over to them and whispered, “I’m assuming you’re keeping a watch out for shadows?”
Turning toward me, Chase shook his head. “Culus is probably keeping them close to him. How many shadows did you see in his room, anyway?”
“Two.” I hesitated for a second. “But the ones in Dad’s room looked skinnier than the one I saw in the gallery. It was broader and darker. So that makes at least three.”
Chase rubbed his brand for a second. “Two skinny ones. They’d be Culus’s henchmen. But the other shadow, I doubt it’s one of Culus’s men. That sounds more like either Malphic or one of his spies.”
Zachary’s eyes bulged. “Malphic—himself?”
I swallowed hard as the memory of Malphic taking my mother flashed through my mind.
“More likely a spy”—Chase’s voice brought me from my thoughts—“watching the family and reporting back. The kidnapping probably left a weak point between the djinn realm and ours. That would give a spy easy access.”
I glanced over my shoulder to the top of the staircase and at the hallway that led to the gallery. “When I first saw that shadow, I told Olya right away. But I saw it again yesterday. You don’t suppose she didn’t tell Grandfather or Kate?”
“No. That isn’t something she’d keep to herself. They probably strengthened the gallery’s wards last night. I didn’t sense anything when we were in there this morning.”
“Wards? What the heck are they?” I asked.
“It’s like sprinkling salt across a doorway. Charms, spells, sometimes symbols, things designed to act as barriers against intruders, like to keep genies from crossing at weak points in the veil. They aren’t infallible. They get weaker over time and can be broken.”
I stopped him with a wave of my hand. “I get the idea.” Taking a breath, I forced my mind to stop trying to make sense out of everything and get back to the job at hand. “Did you guys find anything?”
Zachary plucked a broken lamp from the drawer. “The ones in here are cracked. They’d never hold oil.”
Chase shrugged. “I’ve gone through most of the display case. Either the inscriptions and decorations are wrong, or they’re not old enough.”
“How about this one?” Zachary held out a small, simple terra-cotta lamp with a few lines and dots etched into it, so boring I’d never have bid on it at an auction.
I took the lamp. It was smooth to the touch, neither finely made nor coarse. It was a dark coppery-brown color. No way did it look priceless and one-of-a-kind, like something out of an Arabian Nights’ treasure trove. But it was in perfect condition and the dots and lines easily could be taken as primitive sacred symbols.
“What do you think?” I said, handing it to Chase.
His fingers brushed mine as he took the lamp, and our eyes met and lingered. Oh, man. He could try to warn me off all he wanted, but I was sure he felt the electricity as strongly as I did.
Red-faced, I looked back at the lamp in his hand.
He flipped it over, examining all sides. “I doubt this is what Culus is expecting it to look like,” he said.
I grinned. “Good. Then he’ll be less likely to think it’s a fake.” I turned to Zachary. “Do you mind taking it to Grandfather? He’ll want to get it down to the research room as soon as possible.”
As Zachary took off with the lamp, Chase rested his hand on my arm. My pulse started thrumming again, but his serious tone made it easier to regain my composure. “I guess this means it’s time for us to head for the mausoleum,” he said.
My mouth dried. The plan was coming together perfectly. Too perfectly. Something had to be wrong. “Maybe we should check on Dad first, make sure he’s in his room.”
Chase grinned. “One step ahead of you. I checked with Tibbs a couple of minutes ago. They’re playing cards, and your father mentioned wanting to take a bath.”
I let out my breath. That was perfect too. Now, if only I could be certain things would stay this way.
Neither one of us talked as we dashed through the hot sunshine, past the garage, and up the path. Chase went first, and I had to jog every now and then to keep up with his long strides as we wound our way toward the graveyard.
“What time is it?” I called to Chase.
He looked over his shoulder. “Around one thirty, I’d guess.”
I hurried my pace. In the distance, sheep blatted. As we came up to the gate, they hurtled through the graveyard toward us, then followed like a shifting tide as we made our way up the rest of the hill to the mausoleum.
While Chase unlocked the padlock, I glanced back. The sheep watched us, their dark eyes gleaming. Behind them, the bright greens and stark whites of the graveyard had a surreal, motionlessness silence to them. A heat mirage, like a pool of water
on a desert, wavered over what I could see of Moonhill’s rooftops. It was odd and chilling how familiar this place felt, after only a few days. Like I’d been here all my life. Or like Moonhill had been waiting for me.
Chase said something.
Turning around, I blinked. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” His shoulders sagged. “I should have thought to bring a lantern.”
“That’s okay.” I took out my mini-flashlight and showed it to him.
“Great. I probably could reset the lock without a light. But this will make it easier.” He stood aside and let me go into the mausoleum first. “Once we get inside the tunnel, there’ll be torches I can light.”
I fanned the flashlight’s beam across the vaults until I found one with an etching of Hecate and an inscription on it. “I’m assuming that’s the door to the tunnel. Does it go back to the house, like to the cellar or something?”
“When your father lived here it did. Back then, if someone knew how the doors and latches were disguised and had the keys, they could go anywhere.” Chase pulled a jackknife out of his pocket and flipped open the screwdriver blade. “Almost everything’s been closed off or remodeled in the last few years. In this case, the lock was simply disabled.”
While I stood close behind him and trained the flashlight’s beam on the vault, Chase tapped the screwdriver on what looked like a nickel stuck into the engraving about Hecate. Under the flashlight’s white light, I could see that the nickel was a coin with a bee on it, like the one in the pentagram under my bed.
Chase pried it off, then twisted a screw that was beneath it. As he worked, I thought about the razor in my pocket. It was reassuring that—despite all the sorcery and mystical stuff going on—simple things like flashlights, knives, and razors still had their place.
“That should do it.” Chase put the coin back where it had come from. “Now when your father tries to pick the lock, he’ll succeed.”
He turned toward me, his body so close to mine I could feel its heat.
