Is she… flirting with me?
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “You’re not… Lux, are you?”
“Pardon?” Confusion rippled across her features.
“Never mind. I thought I knew you from somewhere. Ignore me. I’m going crazy.” I gave a dry laugh. Oh, if only she knew how true that was.
Her expression returned to a kind smile. “What do you say, then? Cup of coffee, warm coat, maybe some cookies if I can rustle something up?”
“That’s a very kind offer, it really is, but I’m in a rush to find Ed.” I stuffed the photo back in my pocket. “Although, if you find a body out in the woods, dead of hypothermia, you can go ahead and identify me.”
“Are you sure you can’t leave it a while, until you’re warmer?” Her brow creased with concern. “Ed usually stays in the cabin for a week or so when he drifts back into town, so I doubt he’s going anywhere.”
“Sorry, I really can’t. We have to catch a flight to the funeral. It would kill him to miss it, they were so close. I’d hate to miss it, too.”
“Fair enough. Family’s the most important thing in life, though it’s hard for me to imagine Ed being close to anyone, loner that he is.” She looked a touch disappointed, and clearly not ready to give up on whisking me away for coffee. “Can I at least coax you into swinging by on the way back? It’ll save me from organizing a search party.”
I nodded, though I knew I’d probably never see this woman again. “Sure thing.”
“You take care of yourself, you hear?”
“I will,” I replied. “Scout’s honor.” As if I’d ever been a scout.
“Okay, then. I’ll see you again, Steve. Preferably alive.” She patted her leg and moved off, Beethoven following obediently. I waited until she was far down the bay before I started walking, though I noticed she looked back every so often, that same warm smile on her lips.
Sorry, Reeann with an “ee” but you and your dog are barking up the wrong Finch. I would never not be wary of easy flirtations. Who knew what lurked beneath that seemingly innocent façade? Besides, there was only room for one Ryann in my life. The one with an ironic “y.” Y? Because I can’t get her out of my head.
Now that I had a goal, the cold didn’t bother me as much. I wasn’t wandering aimlessly anymore, and, man, did that feel good. Like a good little Dorothy, I would follow this yellow brick road right to Nash Calvert’s door. And the walk, though lengthy, gave me a decent amount of time to practice my performance. I planned to offer my help in removing Nash’s djinn curse in return for some of his untainted blood, afterward. Plus, I had some ironclad reasoning, primed for persuasion—I would tell Nash I needed the blood to break free of Erebus’s service. Which was partly true.
“The details aren’t important. Nash just has to sympathize with me. I’ll throw in some puppy-dog eyes and bleeding emotions, and that’ll snag him hook, line, and sinker,” I said aloud, trekking through the winter wonderland along the railway lines with a new spring in my step. Maybe things would work out—no worst-case scenarios necessary.
Provided Raffe succeeds in his mission, that is, my gremlins hissed in the back of my head. Otherwise, this is merely one step closer to your bitter end.
I whistled to distract myself, refusing to entertain their negativity. I had faith in Raffe and Kadar. Raffe was my friend. Even if it wasn’t his top priority, he’d tap the Storyteller for any resources she had that could free me. Dwelling on that hopeful note provided my mental agony a temporary salve. And I popped two more pills, to be doubly sure. I’d need my wits about me to deal with Nash.
Half an hour later, I arrived at the forest track which interrupted the dense tree line. A white wooden signpost marked it, carved with a black wolf just as I’d been told. Jittering with agitation, I headed down the dirt path, the crowded pines dulling every sound as I walked. It felt like someone had put earmuffs on me, and the effect made every snapping twig and falling mass of collected snow eerie as hell. Ghostly, as if I’d stepped into a different world.
I’d have been a shivering mass of useless on the ground if I hadn’t taken those pills when I had. Shadows flitted between pine trunks, the wind rustling the fronds and making them whisper furtively. I clung to my nerve, though my heart thundered in my chest. Anyone could be hiding in these woods, and I’d have no clue until it was too late.
The path expanded into a clearing that looked partway between a lumber yard and a horror-movie holiday destination for unsuspecting teenagers. A cabin sat in the center, adding to the psycho-killer effect.
I readied myself to approach when a sound made me sidestep quickly into the woods, ducking behind the heft of a massive old pine tree. It sounded like whispering. Not the wind in the fronds, but actual, human whispering, followed by the soft tread of feet crunching the snow. Maybe I liked snow, after all—an assassin’s nightmare, it made stealth nearly impossible.
Two furry-hooded figures appeared on the forest path, their faces shrouded with ski masks. They tiptoed slowly, a sure sign they were up to no good, whoever they were. I didn’t wait to find out. Lifting my palms, I shot two fierce strands of Telekinesis, which hoisted them into the air.
“Finch! Finch, stop! It’s us!” a terrified voice rang out. One I recognized.
“Melody?” I emerged from my hiding place. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Let us down, then we’ll talk!” Luke grunted.
Irritated, I set them back on the ground, where they proceeded to push their hoods and ski masks back to reveal their faces. My mouth opened to rip into them, but the words died on my lips. The wind whipped up, and the trees’ whispers rose to a deafening shriek. Snapping branches went off like gunshots, the thud of falling snow like a drumbeat. The percussion of danger approaching.
“Someone else is following us,” I hissed.
“What?” Melody stepped forward, but I staggered away from her. The pills hadn’t done jack. They’d fooled me. Now, all that paranoia and pent-up terror assaulted me, rampaging through my mind. My hands shook so hard they hurt, and my throat closed, while my chest gripped in a vise so tight it felt as if a sumo wrestler had sat on me. I stared, wild-eyed, at Melody and Luke. Only, they no longer looked like Melody and Luke. Their faces twisted into monstrous masks, their fingertips growing claws as they neared me, their teeth pointed and sharp.
“Get back! Get back!” I howled.
“Finch? What’s going on?” Melody’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Finch?”
Luke peered at me, his eyes entirely black. “Are you okay?”
“Get back! Get away from me!” I stumbled away, my hands too shaky to form a single strand of Chaos.
Deep down, I knew what I was seeing wasn’t real. But it didn’t matter. The rocks of reality had turned slippery under my grasp, and now I plummeted into a mania I couldn’t escape.
Twenty-Five
Finch
This isn’t real. This isn’t real!
I squeezed my eyes shut and staggered backward from the path. I collided with a pine tree, and I felt a shower of snow collapse onto my head. The cold blast added to my overwhelming terror. My breath came in short, sharp gasps.
Everything went into overdrive, and my mind filled with dark and grisly images of what Erebus had planned for me. Fountains of blood, my head rolling like a ball, black veins eating me alive from the inside out. Perhaps this was a premonition—a warning of what would come after the Atlantis mission. My whole body shuddered in response, no longer under my control.
I understood the position Kadar had been in, standing on that rooftop. All this pain, confusion, fear… I couldn’t take it anymore. And I couldn’t suppress it anymore, either. The pills had stopped working. They’d been my lifeboat, and someone had taken a massive pin to that boat, sinking it so I had no choice but to let the current take me.
“Finch?” I heard the crunch of footsteps and Melody’s soft tone.
“Stay back!” I yelled. “You’re not real!”
/>
“It’s me, Finch.” The footsteps got closer, and the pine trunk at my back prevented me from fleeing. I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes. I didn’t want to see Melody’s face all twisted up again.
A second set of footsteps echoed the first. “Finch, it’s us. What’s going on? Are you hexed?” Luke spoke, calm as ever.
“I wish.” I grasped my skull with both hands, pushing inward. Throbbing agony jabbed red-hot pokers behind my eyes, as if trying to push my eyeballs out of their sockets. The gremlins were in attack mode, pounding my cranium as if they could escape if they could just make a crack wide enough. For the first time ever, I feared they might actually succeed.
“Finch, I’m going to put my hand on your arm, okay?” Melody said.
I shook my head, tears squeezing from my clamped-shut eyes. “No! Don’t touch me!”
“I need to, Finch. Listen to my voice and focus on it. Hold on to it and stay with us, please.”
A hand clasped my wrist. I flinched, trying to yank it back, but Melody held tight. Warmth spread up my arm, like something between syrup and hot massage oil. I fought it every step of the way. This was a demon come to punish me, not the real Melody.
The warmth slithered up my neck and entered my mind, pooling in my brain. Instead of darkness and gremlin delusions, an image of sunset at the monastery burst to the forefront of my thoughts. The scent of lemon trees found its way into my nostrils, and the balmy heat of the Grecian evening wafted over me.
Figures sat at the long, wooden dinner table where we’d gathered that first night on the island. Melody, Luke, and Mr. Abara, but that was where real memory ended. Harley sat to my right, and Tobe on my left.
You shouldn’t be here… Why were they here? The confusion gave my brain a fleeting respite from the panic.
“I missed you, Finch,” Harley said, reaching for my hand. “I’m so glad you came back.”
Tobe smiled, flashing his fangs. “You are safe here with us, Finch.”
“You are strong, boy.” Mr. Abara lifted his glass to me. “More than you think. You’ve endured Etienne’s tasks, and succeeded. Don’t be defeated by this.”
“What’s happening?” I rasped.
“I calmed your mind with a transformation spell,” Melody replied. “A variant of Euphoria, which helped me put you in a safe place in your mind. Whatever is happening to you can’t reach you here.”
I raked my fingernails across the wooden table. It felt real. Eerily real. “Are you really with me, outside… this place? Did you follow me to Canada?”
“I’m with you. I think you’re seeing things that aren’t there, but it’s really us.” Melody’s eyes glinted with tears. “You need to tell me how to help you—the real you. Was Luke right? Did someone put a hex on you?”
I sagged into my chair. “It’s not a hex. That would be simpler. Katherine even tried to convince me it was, a long time ago, but it isn’t. This is me. This is what I’ve been dealing with my whole life, though recently it’s… gotten out of control.”
“What is it?” Melody pressed.
“I suffer from… a delusional disorder.” My voice faltered.
She nodded in understanding. “And it’s getting worse?”
“A lot worse.” I nodded. “I don’t know why, but my ‘gremlins,’ as I call them, won’t quiet down. I have pills that are meant to help, but I keep taking more and more and it doesn’t make a difference. It shuts them up for an hour or two, most of a day if I’m super lucky, but then they come back with a vengeance. Like they’re pissed at being forced to shut up.”
“These pills. Do you have them?” Melody asked.
“They’re in my jacket pocket.”
“Okay, I’m going to give you two, and then I’ll draw you out of here. Keep listening to my voice, and use it as an anchor to center yourself.” She held my gaze. I wanted to stop her and tell her I’d already taken two and ended up like this anyway. But I figured I was already in for a dime; I may as well make it a dollar.
A minute or so later, the monastery terrace melted away. Freaky, in and of itself, to watch everything disappear. It gave me major flashbacks to my first taste of the orange poison in the tower. As it faded to nothing, I braced for the gremlin onslaught… which didn’t come. With my eyes still closed, I heard the wind whistle through the pines and Melody’s strained breath, but no jumped-up Puffballs trying to tip me over the edge.
“Finch? Can you hear me?” Melody spoke.
I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Open your eyes.”
Hesitantly, I urged my lids up and peeked out. Melody crouched beside me. No twisted demon face, just cheerful Melody with her adorable hamster cheeks and earnest expression. Luke stood behind her, looking more worried than she did. He probably thought I might leap forward to strangle her or something.
“Anything weird?” she asked.
“Nope… just Canada.” I managed a ghost of a smile.
Luke folded his arms. “Does somebody want to tell me what happened?”
“Go easy, Luke,” Melody warned. “He’s dealing with some terrible things in that head of his. I only saw a few bits and pieces, but it’d floor a weaker man. A world of nightmares that he can’t escape.”
“What?” Luke’s tone switched to concern. Actual concern… for me. Now that was weird.
I sighed wearily, feeling like a sack of heavy, lumpy spuds. “I have a mental illness. I was born with it, I think. The old nurture versus nature argument. Maybe it came later, maybe Freud would slap some Oedipal nonsense on me or put it down to abandonment issues, I don’t know—but I’ve had it ever since I can remember.”
“Your gremlins, right?” Melody prompted.
“Right.” It sounded odd to hear someone other than my sister call them that.
She leaned from her crouch to a sitting position in the snow. “And they’ve gotten worse?”
“Way worse. I used to be able to keep a lid on them, but that lid has blown off, and, like all stray lids, I have no idea where it went.” I clenched and stretched my hands, trying to feed some warmth to them.
“When did this start?” Melody asked.
I chuckled faintly. “Shouldn’t I be reclined on a couch for this?”
“The snow will have to do,” she replied somberly.
“Honestly, they’ve been more vocal since Elysium, but I still had some control,” I explained. “My pills worked like plugging a leaking dam with my finger. Then, after the monastery, the floodgates opened, and no amount of finger-plugging has been able to shut them again.”
Melody’s eyes widened. “It might be the orange poison you ingested.”
“Huh?” Luke grunted.
“The orange poison alters your state of mind, and map-making does the same thing once you’ve gotten the hang of it.” She paused, as if putting her ideas together. “Now, this is just a theory, but hear me out—maybe the pills aren’t working anymore because your mind is no longer in the same state. They were geared toward quieting your gremlins, the way you used to be. But your mental chemistry has changed, so it stands to reason they wouldn’t be as effective anymore.”
I stared at her. “You know what, that actually makes sense. But, if that’s true, then I need a straitjacket and a padded cell before the delusions get worse.”
“Not necessarily.” Melody put her hand on my forearm. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing your mind. When I became the Librarian and all the world’s knowledge poured into my brain, I thought I’d completely lost the plot. It’s not exactly the same, but I understand, to a degree, the strain of sifting through waves and waves of information that aren’t supposed to be there.”
“Is that how you learned the safety pocket trick?” I brushed away snowflakes that had landed on my eyelashes.
“You mean what I did to you a moment ago?” she replied.
I nodded. “Yeah, that.”
“It’s a coping mechanism I learned, yes. You may find it useful
, too.” Melody gave my arm a reassuring squeeze that made Luke glower. “That ‘safety pocket,’ as you call it, is in your head now—a small bubble that can’t be penetrated by the gremlins. All you have to do, when things get overwhelming, is retreat there until you calm down. Think of it, and your brain will take you there.”
“But the beasties will come back?” My heart sank at the thought.
She creased her brow. “They will, but at least you’ll have another way to manage them when the pills don’t do what they used to. Who knows how long it might take Dr. Krieger to create pills that fit your new brain chemistry? If it can even be done, considering the way your mind has changed, without making you a zombie or borderline tranquilizing you.”
“You got any transformation spells that’ll give me a whole new brain?” I asked her dryly, hating that my most important organ—debatably—continued to fail me.
“I’m afraid not,” she replied. “If I did, you wouldn’t be you.”
I snorted. “I’m not too fond of me right now. I could live with that.”
“Even so, your gremlins don’t define you. You define you. I know you’re probably tired of fighting and people telling you to simply cope with it.” Melody took a breath as snowflakes settled on her dark hair. “But you’ve never seemed like the kind of guy to back out of a fight because it gets hard. You’re brave, Finch. Now, after glimpsing your mind, I know just how brave you are.”
“Careful, you’ll make me blush,” I joked halfheartedly. “I definitely needed a couch for all this brain-shrinking.”
Luke crouched suddenly. “I hate to break up the heart-to-heart, but we’ve got company.” He gestured toward the cabin clearing, where a figure had emerged. The man carried a bundle of logs in his arms, and we watched him pause beside a woodshed before disappearing inside.
“That’s him,” I whispered. I’d seen his photo enough in the last few hours to know.
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