He laughed. “Nice try. But if I say something. . .”
“I follow through,” I repeated along with him.
“Exactly. You wouldn’t respect me otherwise.” He stepped to my bedroom door. “Good night, kiddo.”
“Good night.” I flopped against my pillows, feeling like a terrible, horrible daughter. I really needed to beg Phil to bring my dad into the fold. Sure, he’d freak, but not nearly as much as if we surprised him with the apocalypse.
Just as I was settling in to wait, I heard the doorbell ring. Who’d be showing up at half-past-ten on a Sunday? I crept to my door and cracked it open to listen.
“Oh hey, Sienna. What brings you. . .” Dad’s voice trailed off, replaced by what sounded like a muffled—oh God—slurping sound. Gross!
“Um, Jessie’s upstairs, you know.”
“Then why don’t we step out to my car for a bit?” came the whispered response. “Nice and roomy in there.”
The front door clicked shut and that was it. I was never getting that image out of my head ever again. I backed up, stunned. Just as I was ready to retreat and try to smother that memory out of me with a pillow, I heard the front door open again. That was fast. Maybe she just wanted to tell him something.
Or it was the mother of all quickies.
Before my mind could offer up any other horrifying suggestions, there came a faint whisper from the parlor. “Jessie!”
That wasn’t Dad’s voice. I crept to the landing to see Phil, Gary, and Julius—in his Other Me guise—waiting downstairs.
Was Sienna just a distraction? If so, that didn’t really make me feel any better.
Other Me padded up the stairs. “Hurry up, Jess. We need to make the switch and be quick about it.”
I still wasn’t sure I was cool about doing this—whatever this was—but was already in too deep to balk now. Dad grounding me forever is still better than the world ending. “Let me grab my jacket.”
“Actually, you’re going to want an overnight bag, too,” Gary said, that sheepish grin back on his face, not helped by the skunk stripe on his head.
“I’m gonna need a . . . what?”
Other Me stepped past me, heading toward my room. Glamour or not, I was not cool with some old dude rooting around my stuff. I hustled after him, blinking as he made himself comfortable on my bed.
“Oh, you’ll need a passport too,” Julius said, pleasantly enough, “but I forged one for you just in case.”
“Forged?”
Other Me nodded and pulled out a comic book. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll lay low as best as I can. Why, it’ll practically be a holiday.”
Gary and Phil followed us upstairs. “Hurry up. You need to pack,” she said.
“Why is Julius talking about passports and vacations?” I asked, feeling bewildered.
“Long story short?” Phil grabbed my Rocketeer Red Panda bag and started shoving random clothes items from my closet into it. “It’s time to face your destiny and possibly save the world while you’re at it.”
“Geez, no pressure.”
Phil stopped what she was doing and planted a hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s not fair, but destiny waits for no one, great or small.”
“I still don’t—”
“A summit has been announced, one last chance for peace, and Yush has invited us to bear witness. To refuse would be a grave insult, and believe me, there’s few things more frightening than an insulted forest folk.”
“A . . . Sasquatch summit? That sounds both ridiculous and terrifying all at the same time, but you can’t just expect me to pack up and . . . where are we even going?”
“I agree, it’s a terrible idea, but we don’t have a choice. This is happening whether or not we’re there,” Gary said, handing me another bag so I could at least try and pack some things myself.
“And we need to be there,” Phil added.
“Oh, and pack warmly. Trust me on this,” Gary said. “Winter coat, boots, gloves. . .”
I dropped the bag, planted my hands on my hips and asked again. “Where are we going?”
“To a sacred place. An oasis of great nature magic,” Phil said.
“Why do I need to dress warm at an oasis?”
“You do when that oasis is in northern Canada,” Other Me added helpfully. “And the longer you take to pack, the longer Sienna needs to distract your father.”
Yuck! “Canada? We’re going to Canada?” I stepped into the closet and began rooting around for my boots.
Gary nodded, looking none too pleased. “The Canadian tundra, no less. We’re traveling above the Arctic Circle in November . . . like idiots.”
“For how long? What about my dad? School? My job?”
Phil handed me a cell phone—one of those cheap, prepaid models. “You can use this to keep in touch with Julius. And he’ll call you if he gets stuck with anything. It’s hexed so no matter where you are, you’ll be able to reach him, which is good because I’m pretty sure they don’t have cell towers where we’re going.”
“That doesn’t tell me how long we’ll be gone.”
She shrugged and flashed me a plastic smile. “A few days, no more. Trust me. We’ll be back in time for turkey, shopping, and pumpkin pie.”
“You’re certain?”
“Mostly. Apparently, the leaders on both sides are trying really hard to prevent a war.”
“Then why do I need to be there?”
“On the remote chance something goes wrong. If that happens, we’ll need you at ground zero.”
“Ground zero? Does that mean—?”
Gary nodded, looking far less disarming than his aunt. “The ubervamp. He’s supposed to be there, too.”
All I wanted to do was tell them to get out, climb back in bed, and pretend I hadn’t heard the last five minutes, but I couldn’t. “Stop talking. Just stop.” I packed my bag as quickly as possible, making sure to grab my passport and some emergency cash out of my desk, assuming I could even use it up in Canada. Hah! What a joke. Like they had a Starbucks in the Arctic Circle.
The whole thing was nuts, and I felt my mind threatening to unravel from it all, but then I looked to my dresser and saw all the comics stacked atop it. Would any of them back down from this? Would Batman hide in his pajamas while the world burned? Would Captain America use the fact that he was grounded to get out of doing his job?
No, and neither could I. Hoping that I wasn’t about to make a cataclysmic mistake, I finished packing, then slung Rocketeer Panda over my back. “Let’s go save the world.”
Phil let out an exasperated sigh. “And hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Magical Mystery Tour
“Are we there yet?” I kept eyeing the airsickness bag longingly as we hit yet another patch of turbulence. I’d managed to sleep through the first two legs of our epic flight to some gods-forsaken town called Yellowknife, but this last flight had just about done us all in. Gary had been in the bathroom for twenty minutes, and Phil was already cut off from the bar cart per order of our helpful flight attendant.
The plane lurched once more. “Tell me again why we didn’t bamf?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s still coming,” Phil said. “If you think we’re driving to our destination, then you’ve got another thing coming.”
“Then why are we on a plane?”
“So we can do a baby bamf, as you call it, once we get there. Sorry, but your ability to disrupt magic is getting stronger every day. It would be unpleasant, to say the least, to have my magic fizzle mid trip.”
“Unpleasant? Like we’d end up trapped in some hell dimension?” A shiver ran down my spine.
“That or Milwaukee.” Phil shuddered visibly. “It’s not a very mage-friendly city and I’m not a fan of beer. I got stuck there once, right before the Y2K New Years. Not an experience I’d care to relive.”
Gary eventually rejoined us, looking green to the gills. After he settled down, I looked over with envy to see
him reading on the tablet he had the foresight to bring. Sadly, I was stuck waiting for us to land and find an outlet. The stupid phone they’d given me might’ve been hexed to get a signal anywhere, but Phil hadn’t done jack to make the battery last longer. There was no way he was ignoring me and getting blissful distraction during this nightmare flight.
“Whatcha reading?”
He gave me some side eye, no doubt feeling as miserable as me. “Stuff on our hosts. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be the unprepared idiot among an army of angry supernatural beings.”
“Good idea. Give me the Cliff’s Notes.” I gave him my best adorable eyes, the effect severely diminished by me having to fight back another round of air sickness.
“I downloaded some info from our archives. Thank goodness Spencer had the foresight to institute a paperless initiative before he disappeared.” He glanced over, probably to make sure Phil hadn’t overheard. “Anyway, the gist is that the supernatural world is primarily split into three factions—the forest folk who are a bit pissed off at the current state of the world.”
“Shall I assume industrialization wasn’t a big hit among the nature lovers?”
“Exactly. On the other side you have the T’lunta, their word for the undead.”
“I’m guessing the fact that they’re holed up in Boston means they’re hunky dory with the current state of urban sprawl.” He nodded. “Okay. Makes sense why they wouldn’t like each other, and faction three?”
“Those are the wild cards. The celestial beings that don’t give a crap about anything or anyone. Most of them passed beyond the veil of our reality long ago, but apparently a summit of this magnitude might attract some attention anyway.”
“So you’re saying Thanos might show up to this?”
“I don’t think they invited any world-devouring demigods this time,” Phil added, leaning over to listen in. “But I can double check once we get there.”
“Please tell me she’s kidding, Gary.”
He chuckled. “Jess, if there were world-devouring demigods in the area I think we would have noticed them by now . . . on account of being dead. Chances are anything that shows up will be a bit lower on the cosmic totem pole. Think stuff like dragons or maybe mind flayers.”
“What about unicorns?”
“Doubtful. I’m pretty sure they were hunted to extinction in the last great war. Hard to say. It was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
He scrolled through a few pages on his tablet before settling on a passage. “You’ve heard of Sodom and Gomorrah? That was the forest folk going bonkers way back when. They warred for centuries, maybe longer. Supposedly it all came to a head when Humbaba, the great king of the forest folk, realized the folly of war and offered up his own life so that there would be lasting peace . . . which has persisted, until now.”
I slumped back in my seat. “I’m guessing the expansion of humans and their concrete empire didn’t help matters.”
“No, it did not. The forest kin are a peaceful folk, but they consider technology their great taboo. But they consider us an ignorant child race. Their true hatred is reserved for the vampires who they see as the driving force behind humanity’s expansion, their greed pushing mankind ever forward.”
“So how do we stop it?”
“Yush and her allies know that nothing will be gained by another war,” Phil said. “And vamps, arrogant as they are, aren’t stupid enough to want to restart a war which almost destroyed both sides last time. From what I’ve heard they’re sending their best and brightest patsies to take a small hit of humiliation and restore the status quo. It’ll all be fine.” I could have sworn I picked up that special tone in her voice, however—the one adults used when they lied to their kids. She gave us both a taut smile. “That’s not to say we don’t have to be careful, though.”
♦ ♦ ♦
I got a basic rundown of Sasquatch etiquette as the plane made its final approach. It pretty much came down to don’t litter, don’t insult their ancestors, and don’t be a vampire. The big takeaway was to keep my wig on at all times and not wander off. Somehow that made it feel less like walking into a war zone and more like being dropped off at Bigfoot day care.
“So what’s an adept?” I asked once we were back on the ground and I’d gotten a chance to adjust to the fact that we’d survived the flight.
Gary raised an eyebrow at my question. “It’s a type of catalyst mage. Why do you ask?”
“Because Sensei seems to think I’m one. By the way, what’s a catalyst—”
“That’s just your cover story, dearie,” Phil said with one of her big, cheesy grins. “Nothing to worry about.”
I turned to Gary, giving him that look which said there was no way I was dropping this without pestering the hell out of him. I could outstare anyone.
At last he let out a deep breath. “Most mages focus on mind over matter. We conjure fire and lightning, that sort of thing. It’s mostly the kind of magic that keeps you at a distance and out of harm’s way.” Gary rubbed his chin and nodded. “Adepts are different. They channel their magic into their own bodies to enhance them.”
“So that’s why she’s so awesome at fighting?”
Phil leaned in and I caught the faintest whiff of booze on her breath. “It’s not just for fighting. You can enhance anything physical, if you know what I mean.”
Thankfully she didn’t elaborate. “So, if you’re telling everyone that I’m an adept—”
“Adept in training,” Phil corrected. “You’re about to ask, how do I know that you’re not really one and this whole prophecy thing is a load of horse shit? Trust me, I could go into hours of boring theory, but I want you awake when we get there. The truth is the base symptoms are pretty close. Think of it like looking up a low-grade fever on WebMD. Sure, it’s probably a cold, but it could be cancer. The thing is, which are you going to believe right off the bat without evidence to the contrary?”
And I just got compared to cancer. Wonderful. “So, if anyone asks, I’m an adept in training.”
“Exactly. They’re uncommon, but not so unheard of that they’ll think you’re the harbinger of Armageddon.”
I blinked several times. “Harbinger of—?”
“It’s a figure of speech, relax,” she replied. “It’s a good cover since most adepts these days are kinda just for show. They’re tough but not unbeatable. Trust me, there are much better ways to deal with a vamp. On the other hand, they do have their uses.”
I learned that lesson a few minutes later as I struggled beneath the weight of a full rucksack after Phil insisted I carry the bulk of our supplies to help perpetuate the ruse.
“Oh, don’t complain. You’re young and have a strong back,” she said with a cackle as we stepped out of the rather unassuming terminal at Yellowknife.
Any answer I might’ve retaliated with died on my frozen lips as a rush of arctic air hit me, making me realized how woefully unprepared I was for this climate. It felt like the dead of winter . . . in the ninth circle of hell. If we didn’t find someplace warm soon, I’d start punching myself in the face in the hopes of convincing my hair I was in enough danger to heat up.
Phil led us out of the airport, the short trip feeling like miles in the bitter cold. Finally, she stopped behind a copse of birch trees. “Everyone ready to head up north?”
“Up north?” I replied, through lips I could barely feel. “You mean we’re not far north enough?”
“Not yet.”
“Who’s hosting this thing, Santa Claus?”
Phil laughed, pulling a cigarette out and stuffing the unlit butt into her mouth. “Not quite, although there is a species of fae that likes to sneak down chimneys in the dead of winter. But the stuff they leave behind probably doesn’t fit your idea of presents. As for elves, trust me, you don’t want to meet those assholes.”
With that, she snapped her fingers and the whole world seemed to dissolve into a series of white streaks.
Please don’t fight her, magic hair. Even if Milwaukee was warmer, I didn’t want to end up there with the fate of the world in the balance. For a moment I could feel reality tearing apart around me and searing winds far worse than the breeze by the tarmac. I think I screamed, or at least I tried to. Why did this so-called instant travel seem to take forever? Heat began to ripple from my head down through my body. Oh. . .
“No,” I cried, landing face-first in a pile of snow. Steam exploded all around me as my head continued to heat up in protest to our magical transport. The acrid smell of melting plastic filled the air. I yanked hairpins left and right as quickly as I could and managed to toss the wig into a snowbank just as it burst into flames.
“That was a bit rougher than expected,” Phil said, stepping up next to me with a grin.
“You think?” Gary cried between retches from where he kneeled.
I couldn’t focus on their banter, though. Something wasn’t right. I could only stare at the melted circle of snow in the clearing around us, a clearing surrounded by what appeared to be maple trees.
“Guys, something tells me that this isn’t the Arctic Circle.”
I heard a twig snap, then the crunch of snow, and turned to find we weren’t alone. Somehow, surrounded by the shadows and majesty of this ancient forest, Yush seemed even larger and more impressive.
“Yush welcome friends to Woods of Mourning. Please be at peace.”
In response, Gary tossed his cookies while Phil lit a cigarette off my glowing head. If this was how the peace summit was getting started, we were totally screwed for whatever was to come.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Hairy Prattle and the Hot Tub of Wonders
“Wow.” My jaw practically dropped to the floor as Yush pulled the leafy curtain aside. Blue light oozed from the walls like something out of a video game. It was almost enough to make me forget the nearly overpowering stench coming from within.
It was incredible, and this was after being escorted through an enchanted forest by a gigantic ape woman. The glowing walls of the cave surrounded a pool that looked more like radioactive antifreeze than water. To top it all off, runes carved into the stones and the floor marked a clear path to the central pool as if to say, “go this way for something cool . . . or terrible.” We were either going to be granted three wishes, or a giant monster was about to rise out of the depths.
Second String Savior Page 20
