by Bree Despain
Another idea strikes me, and this time I sing the song using the melody of the grove. I can feel power rippling through the air, riding on the sound waves of my voice, as if reaching out to the world around me. I look at my geode collection that Jonathan had sent with my shipment of stuff from Ellis when I first moved here. The geodes sit on my desk, lining up from smallest to largest. I concentrate my voice on the smallest of them as I sing the song. It had taken all of my concentration to manipulate a few raindrops only a couple of weeks ago, so I don’t expect much from the crystallized rock—maybe to lift a few inches off the desk—but when I beckon to it to come to me, all of the geodes lift off the desk. Even the largest rock, the size of a softball, swirls up in the air. They dance around me as I sing, as if they weigh nothing at all.
I remember Sarah the Oracle’s words to me before she died. She had said that I was the Keeper of Orpheus’s Heart and Soul, the Vessel of His Voice. But what if she had meant those things interchangeably? Orpheus’s voice was what made him who he was—metaphorically, his voice was his heart and soul.
Hope rises up in my chest, and I want to sing out so loud that I would be heard all the way across town. The Oracle had said that I was the only one who could unlock the Key because my heart and soul are what is needed to obtain it. But what if she hadn’t meant that literally? It wasn’t my literal heart and soul that were needed to unlock the Key. It was my voice—and this song, I was willing to bet everything on it—was the pass code.
In my vision of the echoes in the grove, I had witnessed Orpheus use his voice to lock away the Key, so it makes perfect sense that I, his descendant, am meant to unlock it, using the Compass as a conduit for my voice.
Now all we need to do is get the Compass away from Rowan.
chapter thirty-five
HADEN
Brim is waiting up for me when I get home from Daphne’s after the dance. She paces the counter in the kitchen, meowing in the direction of the fridge. Before I left, I’d fed her some canned concoction Dax picked up after we finally broke down and made a supply run to the grocery store—one of the more perplexing experiences of my life, because food in the Underrealm does not come as rows and rows of brightly colored boxes and cans—but I know what she wants. Eggs. Daphne had spoiled her with that treat, and now it’s all she wants.
“You’re getting fat,” I tell Brim. “No eggs.”
She glares at me, not amused. She really is getting awfully round, but there’s no negotiating with a hellcat.
“Fine, you want scrambled?” I don’t know why I bother to ask. Scrambled eggs and French toast are still the only things I know how to cook. I know I could probably become a master chef if I downloaded some cooking shows from the Internet … but I like the idea of letting Daphne teach me instead. I only wish I didn’t have to be so careful about being seen with her outside of school. I’d like to learn something more advanced.
Brim gives a little purring meow and leaps off the counter onto my shoulder. She rubs her cheek against mine to show her appreciation. How do you say no to that?
Dax comes in through the garage. He looks haggard, with his tie loosened and his jacket slung over his shoulder.
“You know you’re not really a school counselor. You didn’t have to stay behind to stack all the chairs,” I say.
“I do if I want to get a paycheck. Simon’s money won’t last forever. Especially if we have to withdraw fifty grand for Rowan.”
Oh yes, there’s that.
“How did it go?” he asks, dropping his jacket on the counter.
I’m not sure if he’s referring to my attempt to ask Daphne to dance or with unraveling the scroll. I choose to respond to the latter because I don’t feel like talking about the former.
“The scroll was nothing of import.”
Dax sinks heavily into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “Just when you think you’re starting to get somewhere …”
I can hear the exhaustion in his voice and decide to make him some eggs, too. “There’s still the deal with Rowan,” I say, pulling a skillet from the dishwasher.
“Do you think he’ll hand it over?”
“I don’t know. Especially if we don’t have the talisman to trade.”
I open the fridge and gag. The rankest smell wafts out of it. Brim hunkers down on my shoulder and covers her nose with her paws. We’d stocked the fridge with more supplies but hadn’t bothered to clean the old food out. I open one of the drawers and find a bag of turnips so far gone that they’ve started to liquefy.
“Ah Hades,” I say, lifting it up. Gray moldy liquid drips on my shoes, and I can’t help but think that an Underlord should not have to do such tasks as cleaning out a refrigerator. If only Garrick were still my servant …
As I head to the garbage with the reeking bag, I notice something glinting like metal in the turnip slop. Instead of into the garbage, I dump the bag in the sink. Something round and metal makes a clunking noise as it hits the bottom of the tub. I fish my fingers into the muck and find the end of what feels like a chain. I lift it up and see that it’s attached to a large, oval-shaped medallion.
“What’ve you got there?” Dax asks.
“Simon’s talisman, I think.” I shake my head in disbelief. “He’d hidden it in a bag of turnips.”
Dax crows with laughter—and relief. “Well, it is the last place his teenage houseguests would ever look.”
We both have a good laugh at that, and for a moment our situation doesn’t feel quite so dire.
“Find a good place to hide that,” Dax says. He picks up his jacket and discarded tie. “If you don’t mind, I think I might skip out on our group meeting on Monday. I’m thinking of taking a sick day and driving out to Santa Monica. I found an address for a pen pal of Abbie’s out there. Thought I’d go check it out.”
“Actually, can it wait until Tuesday?” I say, rinsing off the talisman in the sink. “I need you here on Monday.”
He gives me an inquisitive look, but I don’t elaborate. Ethan had warned me not to tip anyone off about his joining our meeting.
“It’s a song,” Daphne says as she explains her discovery about the scroll to us. Dax, Garrick, Joe, Tobin, Lexie, and I are sitting with her in the workshop room behind the stage. The crew stores and designs set pieces here, and it has become our regular meeting spot before rehearsals. I’m interested in Daphne’s discovery, but I’m not sure how a song is supposed to help us any more than a poem would have, and my attention keeps wandering elsewhere: to the door of the room, actually, since I know that Ethan may arrive at any moment.
The others practically jump out of their seats when a thunderous knock raps against the door.
“Who is that?” Daphne asks.
“Company,” I say.
I take my time getting to the door. I open it and find Ethan waiting. I look past him, almost expecting to find Calix and Teressa with him, ready to ambush us. Instead, he ducks his head like he’s waiting for my invitation to enter.
“Come in,” I say, and quickly close the door after he does.
“Everyone knows Mr. Bowman, right?” I ask. “Except you, Joe. This is Mr. Bowman, our humanities teacher.”
“Your humanities teacher?” Joe asks. “You mean the one who’s really a Sky—” He stops himself as if he’s afraid he’s said too much.
“You mean the one who is prince of the Skylords?” Ethan says. “Yes, that would be me. Although I prefer to be called Ethan.”
“What is he doing here?” Tobin asks, suspicion edging into his voice. I wonder if he is thinking about the fact that Ethan is his sister’s betrothed. Dax seems equally unenthused to see Ethan.
“I have requested an audience with you all, and Haden was kind enough to agree.”
“You mean you knew he was coming?” Tobin asks, like an accusation. “And you didn’t tell us?”
“That was by my request also,” Ethan says, taking the chair that I vacated when I went to the door.
Tobi
n stands up as if he is going to leave if Ethan plans on staying.
“Please sit, Tobin,” he says, sounding very much like a teacher. “I have a proposal to discuss with your group, and I need all of you to be present.”
“Proposal?” Tobin asks. “I assume you knew this was going to happen as well?”
“I promised to hear him out,” I say. “But nothing more than that.” I gesture to Ethan. “The floor is yours.”
“I know you are close to finding the Eternity Key,” Ethan says, crossing his legs and clasping his hands on top of his knee.
I gather Eternity Key is the name the Skylords use for the Key of Hades, but no one in the group gives any acknowledgment of knowing what he’s referring to. I find myself thinking my little ragtag group might hold up well under interrogation.
But Ethan isn’t deterred from his assumption. “I am hoping you will give it to me.”
“Uh, yeah, right,” Daphne says. “We know you Skylords want to use the Key to restart the war with the Underlords. That is exactly what we are trying to avoid.”
“Actually, the Skylords want to use the Key to annihilate the Underlords where they sleep before they have a chance to restart the war,” Ethan says with nonchalance.
“And you think we would help you with this?” I ask. “I may have turned my back on my father, but I will not be complicit in the destruction of my realm.”
“I said, that is what the Skylords want. I, however, have allegiances to both the Skyrealm and the Metarealm. You see, while my mother is a Sky Princess, my father was one of the minor gods of the Metarealm—a dalliance that cost my mother greatly in her youth. I have never met my father, but over the years, I have found my allegiances shifting toward the goal of his realm: peace. As you may know, Apollo is the prime god of the Metarealm—a realm that exists within the other four realms, encompassing all things metaphysical, such as love, music, faith, hope, peace, and so forth. As such, Apollo took it upon himself to orchestrate the stalemate that put an end to the bloodshed of the Thousand-Year War between the Skyrealm and Underrealm.…”
“By enlisting Orpheus to steal the Key, causing the death of our god and our people to be trapped in the Underrealm for all eternity,” Garrick says.
“True. There was some collateral damage. This was unfortunate. However, the Metarealm’s interest lies in reducing the amount of further collateral damage and bloodshed that may occur if the war were to be restarted. And for this purpose, I reclaimed my position in the Skylord army in order to keep them from gaining the Key and to enlist your help for my cause.”
“In what way?” I ask. What he’s said so far intrigues me, but I keep my voice guarded.
“I would like you to use the Key to open Pandora’s Pithos—”
“Um, what?” Daphne says, cutting him off. “That is exactly the thing we are trying to stop from happening.”
“Please allow me to finish, Daphne,” he says in that scolding teacher voice. “As I was saying, I would like you—with my help, of course—to journey into the Pithos, to use the Key to open the barrier between the Pits and the mortal realm …” He holds up his hand to stop Daphne’s impeding protest until he finishes. “… where a band of like-minded Skylords will be waiting to help us kill the Keres, therefore neutralizing the threat of the Underlords’ using them as weapons to win the war, and avoiding the full-scale destruction of this world.”
I stand up straighter. His words surprise me, but not as much as they seem to surprise Garrick. He almost falls out of his beanbag chair.
“You know how to kill Keres?” he asks. “That’s not possible.”
“I don’t know how to exactly, but I know that these two”—he points to me and Daphne—“have done it before.”
“How do you know that?” Daphne asks.
“Do you want to tell her the rest, or shall I?” Ethan asks me.
“Did you tell him?” Daphne’s question is directed at me this time. It’s tinged with the suspicion that I have been sharing our secrets with the enemy. As if I’ve betrayed her trust.
“We both did,” I say. “But not intentionally.”
She glares at me.
“Remember when we stopped at that diner on our way to Vegas—the same diner we stopped at on our way back? That first stop, with just us and Garrick, and we told him about how we killed the Keres after the festival? How it was a combination of your voice and my lightning that did it? Well, if you’ll recall, we weren’t the only ones in the diner that day, and we weren’t the only ones in the diner on the way back, either. There was a trucker at the bar.…”
Ethan waves his hand. “Howdy, folks,” he says, dropping his scholarly voice for a down-home drawl. “Fancy seeing you again.”
“You were following us?” Daphne asks. “You were just pretending to be a trucker so you could overhear our conversations? How long were you following us before that?”
“Now, that’s a funny story.” Ethan smiles. “I really was a trucker. You see, I’ve been on a bit of a sabbatical the last few years. Ever since my betrothed went missing.” He sends a pointed glare at Dax. “I’ve been a bit conflicted about where my loyalties lie, so I thought I’d spend some time alone in the mortal world, sorting things out. And lo and behold, your little posse just happened to show up at my favorite milk shake joint on my route. Luckily for me, y’all talk real loud. Actually, I don’t think luck had anything to do with it. That’s what you call the will of the Fates. I saw it as the kick in the pants I needed to pick a side in this fight and do something.”
Daphne shakes her head. I know she hates all this fate “mumbojumbo,” but it’s hard to call this situation a coincidence.
“I thought about following you, but then I noticed that you left your friend’s car behind. I figured you’d be back for it at some point.” He smirks. “Underlords are nothing if not predictable.”
“So you gave up your glamorous life as a trucker and went back to being a Skylord Prince, only you’re really working on behalf of the Metarealm?” Lexie asks. She’s been strangely quiet—for Lexie—this whole meeting. Now she sounds mildly impressed.
Ethan nods. “And I would very much appreciate it if that bit of information doesn’t leave this room.” There’s a growl to his voice, hinting at the danger that would befall anyone who shared his secret.
“And you knew all this when?” Daphne asks me, her arms crossed in front of her chest. It strikes me as a defensive pose—like she’s walling herself off from me.
“Most of this is news to me,” I say. “I had some suspicions when I saw him in the diner a second time, but I didn’t fully put the trucker thing together until the day he showed up in our classroom.”
“You mean you’ve known for almost a month and a half, and you didn’t tell us?” Daphne asks.
“There were extenuating circumstances,” I say.
She turns her angry glare on Ethan. “As in, you threatened Haden?” she asks him on the verge of a shout.
Ethan raises his hands. “We’re getting off topic, and our time is growing short. I don’t expect you to answer me now, but I ask you to spend some time considering my plan. I have seventeen loyal men waiting for my command. With Daphne’s voice and our lightning, we could put an end to the Keres once and for all.” He looks at his watch. “I believe your rehearsal time is about to start. I tried to deter them, but Terresa and Calix will be in the audience this afternoon, so really try to sell it. Terresa has made friends in the music department who have taken note of your clique’s, as they put it, exclusive hangouts. She also suspects Daphne is of some importance to you, Haden, based on the way you reacted when you saw another young man dancing with her at the ball. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to continue planning to avert an apocalypse.”
chapter thirty-six
DAPHNE
“Well, that was an interesting turn of events,” Dax says after Ethan leaves.
I can’t exactly say that I share his nonchalance about it all. Pissed is mor
e how I would describe my feelings. Haden knew a Skylord had found us before we even got back to Olympus Hills, and then he’d made some deal with him without telling us?
I know he’d been threatened by Ethan—who should bear the brunt of my anger—but at the same time, knowing that Haden had been keeping secrets from me again triggers just about every trust issue I’ve got.
“What do you make of his plan?” Dax asks Haden.
“I can’t say it doesn’t have its merits, but I don’t like it. How can we know that any of Ethan’s so-called loyal men, or even Ethan himself, can be trusted? They’re still Skylords, after all. I don’t fancy opening a door to the Underrealm for them, even if it is guarded by a couple of dozen Keres. And most importantly, I don’t like the idea of letting Daphne go up against that many Keres, either.”
“I’m not sure let is the word you’re looking for,” I snap.
As if he could let me do anything.
He looks at me. “Wrong choice of words, I’m sorry. But you can’t deny that the last and only Keres we faced almost killed you. Your voice isn’t powerful enough to take on a room full of them.”
And that’s when I feel like a hypocrite.
Because here I am fuming at Haden for keeping his arrangement with Ethan secret, but I still hadn’t shared my burgeoning vocal powers with him. I told him and the others about my discovery of the scroll’s song, but I haven’t told them what happens when I sing it. They don’t know that I can make raindrops dance in the air, let alone that I can command larger objects to move. By the end of the evening after the dance, I was rearranging all the wooden furniture in my room with only my voice. With my increased strength and some more practice, I probably could take on a few dozen Keres. I’m an asset in this fight, and Haden doesn’t know it because I’ve been keeping my own secrets.
