Forgotten

by P. C. Cast; Kristin Cast

  Before Stark could respond, Kevin said, “No! Leave it where it is. Take the pilot’s cell and place guards around the plane—but be sure it doesn’t look like they’re guards. Neferet told the pilot to go there—told him to wait. She might be planning on returning to the jet. And the Sons of Erebus need to be there to take her into custody.”

  “Yes, that makes sense,” said Anastasia.

  Stark took out his phone. “I’ll make the call.” He moved to the side of the conference room as he gave the Warriors guarding the jet their new orders.

  “So, we have no idea where Neferet is or what she’s up to,” said Anastasia. “And that is very, very bad.”

  “Actually, that’s only half right,” said Kevin. “From what I learned from my sister and my short time in her world, I can tell you that their Neferet—who is very much like our Neferet—had one main focus. To become immortal. After she attained immortality, she was obsessed with commanding the humans in the modern world to be her sycophants and slaves, and the vampyres to be her accomplices—willing or not. So my guess is that wherever she is, Neferet is trying to attain immortality, and after she does we will definitely hear from her again.”

  Professor Penthesilea’s face blanched to the color of chalk. “She’ll return to enslave or kill us all,” she whispered.

  Stark slipped his phone into his pocket as he returned to the table. “No. We’ll stop her.”

  Dragon frowned. “How the hell do we defeat an immortal?” he grumbled.

  “Zo did it with the help of another immortal being,” Kevin said, sitting up straighter and wiping a hand across his face. Since Aphrodite’s death, he’d felt as if he was moving through a fog. Desperate to latch onto something that would force him to focus—force him to see beyond the loss that had broken his heart—he concentrated on everything Zoey and her circle of friends had taught him. “They had the help of Rephaim’s father, a winged immortal named Kalona. Remember? Zo told us about it in the cave on the ridge. They were able to trap their Neferet in the grotto in Woodward Park for eternity.”

  Dragon clapped his hands. “That’s right. I spoke with Rephaim about his father. But he said that the Kalona from their world Fell from Nyx’s side and was a monster for centuries, preying on humans—most especially Native American people—until he was entrapped.”

  “Yeah, Neferet freed him to legitimize her claim of being Nyx incarnate,” said Kevin. “Kalona was supposed to pretend that he was Erebus and name Neferet as his living goddess. The bad news is that it took some doing to get Kalona to change sides from Darkness to Light. The good news is he did change.”

  “But he didn’t defeat Neferet, correct?” Dragon said.

  “Correct. She killed him, but only because he’d given part of his immortality to the Stark who is in my sister’s world.” Kevin paused and nodded at Stark, who he thought looked like he too was having trouble sleeping.

  “So, what you’re thinking is that we need to figure out how to free our version of Kalona, who definitely has not shared any of his immortality with me, and then hope like hell he’ll join us against Neferet,” said Stark.

  “That’s about it,” said Kevin. He pulled out his phone and tapped a quick text. “And I know who can help us with that.”

  “Good. I want to hear all about your plan, but that doesn’t tell us where Neferet is hiding,” said Dragon.

  Anastasia drummed her fingernails on the table contemplatively. “Kevin, did Zoey tell you how her Neferet attained immortality?” she asked.

  “No. I don’t think she fully understood how she did it. She called Neferet a Tsi Sgili—which is basically an evil being from Cherokee legend. But we have to keep in mind that even though the two Neferets share a lot of the same characteristics, especially when you talk about who they are at their core, there are differences,” reminded Kevin. “An example would be that Zo’s Neferet could read minds.” He met Stark’s gaze. “Ours can’t, right?”

  “Not as far as I know,” said Stark.

  “If she could, she hid it from everyone,” said Anastasia, “from the time she Changed. And I do not believe Neferet would hide such a thing. She would use it—exploit it—but never pretend she didn’t have that power.”

  Kevin nodded. “So, there are differences. And unless Neferet is hiding somewhere on tribal lands, she isn’t going to attain immortality as a Tsi Sgili.”

  “Did you mention tribal lands?” Grandma Redbird backed into the conference room, holding her picnic basket from which the aroma of warm lavender chocolate chip cookies wafted.

  “I’ll get that for you, G-ma!” Kevin was up out of his seat to help his grandma, taking the picnic basket from her and helping her into a chair. “How’d you get here so fast?”

  “Thank you, u-we-tsi. I was already on my way here when I got your text. I have something to show you. But first, what’s this about our lands?” she asked as she took a plate of freshly baked cookies from the basket and put them in the middle of the table.

  “We were talking about how Zoey’s Neferet became immortal,” said Kevin.

  “By embracing the Darkness of the Tsi Sgili.” Grandma Redbird shuddered delicately. “Awful, awful creatures.”

  Kevin snagged a cookie. “Yeah, and we figured that our Neferet is trying to become immortal here too.”

  Disgust filled Sylvia Redbird’s voice. “And were she becoming Tsi Sgili she would be gravitating to our people. I see. I will put out a call to the Wise Women of the Tribes. If Neferet is hiding on our lands we will discover her—have no doubt about that.”

  “Sylvia, have you had any luck understanding that poem Zoey left with us?” Anastasia asked. “The one that freed her Kalona from his earthly imprisonment?”

  “Ah, that is why I planned to join you today, even had Kevin not texted and asked me to,” said Grandma. “Here is the poem she left with us.” Sylvia Redbird reached into a leather bag slung over her shoulder and smoothed out a piece of paper that had what looked like a poem printed in the center of it. “I have read this over and over the past several days. I have shared it with my sister Wise Women—they have shared it within their tribes. No one recognizes it.”

  Kevin sighed heavily. “Maybe in this world Kalona isn’t even trapped in the earth. He could be with Nyx living happily all these eons as her Consort.”

  “One would think if that were true, your Warriors would be called Sons of Kalona—and not of Erebus,” reasoned Grandma. “I do have some information, though. I was going through sketchbooks kept by my great-grandmother.” The old woman smiled, her dark eyes twinkling. “She was quite the artist. I noticed that she dedicated many of her sketches to an immortal she called Silver Wings. She drew him several times, and in the margins of the journal she’d copied a rather strange poem that I gave little thought to until I read the piece Zoey left behind for us. The two are oddly similar.” Grandma took a plain white sheet of paper from her bag and held it so the rest of them could see that it was a copy of a very old pencil drawing of a massive winged man. In the margins was a poem written in Tsalagi.

  “G-ma, you’re gonna have to translate that for us,” said Kevin.

  “Oh, of course u-we-tsi. I already did.” She turned the paper over and on the back, in her bold handwriting, was a poem that was roughly the same length as the one on the purple paper. “But first, this is the poem Zoeybird left with us from her world.” Grandma Redbird cleared her throat and read:

  “Ancient one sleeping, waiting to arise

  when earth’s power bleeds sacred red

  The mark strikes true; Queen Tsi Sgili will devise

  He shall be washed from his entombing bed

  Through the hand of the dead he is free

  Terrible beauty, monstrous sight

  Ruled again they shall be

  Women shall kneel to his dark might

  Kalona’s song sounds
sweet

  As we slaughter with cold heat.”

  Professor P clutched her hands together to stop them from trembling. “There’s something about that poem that terrifies me.”

  “I am in agreement with you,” said Grandma Redbird. “Now, the one I found in my great-grandmother’s sketchbook.”

  She read:

  “Ancient one sleeping, waiting to arise

  When the dead joins with fire and water red

  Son who is not—his word is key; the raven will devise

  He shall hear the call from his sacrificial bed.

  By the blood of she who is neither foe nor friend he is free.

  Behold a terrible sacrifice to come—a beautiful sight,

  Ruled by love they shall be.

  The future will not kneel to her dark might.

  Kalona’s return is not bittersweet

  As he will be welcomed with love and heat.”

  Kevin felt a rush of excitement. “The ‘son who is not’ has to be Rephaim!”

  “Exactly what I thought, u-we-tsi,” said Grandma Redbird. “I also thought that the line, ‘When the dead joins with fire and water red’ could be referring to a red vampyre who can call on fire and water.”

  “Could be Kevin, though I’m not sure about the fire and water parts,” said Anastasia.

  “Yes, exactly,” said Grandma. “And even understanding part of it is a great help. Especially as the next stanza is baffling. Neither friend nor foe? A terrible sacrifice that is a beautiful sight? Does anyone have any idea to whom that could be referring?”

  No one spoke.

  Anastasia sighed. “But you truly believe this being called Silver Wings is our Kalona?”

  “I do. I also believe he did not Fall as the Other Kalona did.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Dragon.

  “Because of the lack of terrifying stories. Zoeybird said that their Kalona Fell—that his wings turned from light to dark—and that he so terrorized our people, enslaving our men and raping our women, who in turn gave birth to Raven Mockers—nightmarish creatures that are half bird, half human. Our people have a few tales of such creatures, but they are different than the stories from Zoey’s world. Our ancestors tell of dark spirits that swarm when one of the Tsalagi is near death, but they are easily banished by the simple burning of sage and the evocation of the Great Goddess. They were never considered half human, and as far as the other Wise Women and I can tell, they have never taken physical form. Basically, they’re nothing more than a tale to frighten children, like the boogie monster.”

  “So, if there were no Raven Mockers that means our Kalona didn’t rape and enslave anyone,” said Kevin.

  “Or at least he didn’t rape and enslave any of the Native American peoples,” said Anastasia. “Sylvia, have you looked beyond the Tsalagi’s legends to see if our Kalona might have terrorized others?”

  “I have, and so far no one recognizes the name Kalona at all.”

  Stark leaned forward. “But if he didn’t do anything wrong, why would he be imprisoned?”

  “There is no evidence in this poem that he is imprisoned,” said Grandma Redbird. “Look, Zoey’s poem calls it ‘his entombing bed.’ But my great grandmother’s poem names it ‘his sacrificial bed.’ In addition, though there aren’t many, any reference I find to the immortal Silver Wings is positive. He seems to have been a friend to our ancestors.”

  “Zoey did say Kalona’s wings were silver-white before he Fell from Nyx’s Otherworld. Then they turned black.”

  “And they returned to white again after he died, and Nyx welcomed him to her realm,” agreed Grandma Redbird.

  “Maybe I should go back to Zo’s world and ask Rephaim to return here with me,” said Kevin.

  Grandma Redbird cleared her throat before speaking in a strong, clear voice. “I have something to say. I hope you will hear my words, even though I am not a Council Member.”

  Anastasia gestured magnanimously. “We will hear you, Sylvia Redbird. You have proved yourself a valuable ally.”

  “Wado,” Grandma said. “These words are difficult for me. I love Zoey—in any world—and I miss her desperately. So, my heart says Kevin should return to that world, as I am certain if Rephaim comes here again, my darling u-we-tsi-a-ge-ya would accompany him. But it is best to listen to the heart with wisdom from the mind, and my mind says that this mingling of our worlds is not a good thing. What ramifications will come to pass—in both worlds—if we do not each solve our own problems? It gives me an uneasy feeling that has moved from my mind to my heart, especially as we must use Old Magick to open the boundaries between worlds. We already know Old Magick is dangerous. We learned that lesson when we lost our precious Aphrodite. What more might we lose, who might we lose, if we continue to traffic with ancient powers none of us truly understand?”

  Into the silence Kevin spoke softly. “It is a risk I am willing to take.”

  “But not one I am willing to have you take,” said Anastasia firmly. “At least not yet. We will only need Kalona if Neferet becomes immortal. So, let us find that fallen High Priestess and end this nightmare before it costs us more of our loved ones.”

  Professor P spoke in the no-nonsense voice of an experienced teacher. “Council, I believe the next logical step is to research how a vampyre—or any mortal—can attain immortality. Once we isolate the hows we should be able to figure out where she might be.”

  “Agreed,” said Anastasia. “Penthesilea, I task you with leading the research. Choose anyone you wish for your team, but hurry.”

  “Could you use my help?” asked Grandma Redbird.

  “Absolutely,” said Professor P. “I would also like to task a few of my most advanced fledglings to help us with the research, though it would mean telling them more than is generally known about Neferet.”

  “That’s fine with me, but be careful not to tell them anything about the Other World,” said Anastasia. “We cannot allow that information to leak.”

  “Of course not, High Priestess.”

  The High Priestess continued, turning to her mate. “Speaking of information leaks, are you still keeping an eye on Loren Blake?”

  Dragon snorted with irritation. “Yes. He sleeps late. Has meals brought to his chamber. Then he puts in a lackluster appearance at Nyx’s Temple where my Warriors tell me he spends most of his time either napping, whining, or on his phone. He is a waste of time and an embarrassment to vampyres everywhere.”

  “I will consider where Blake should be sent, as he serves no purpose here,” said Anastasia.

  Through a mouthful of cookie Stark said, “Send him to the High Council. They’re so pissed at Neferet that they’ll slap his pro-war crap down in a heartbeat.”

  Anastasia’s brow went up. “That’s not a bad idea. I’ll give him another couple days to straighten up, and then put him on a one-way flight to San Clemente.”

  Dragon muttered, “Be sure he flies coach.”

  That made Anastasia smile. “Another good idea. So, Blake will be dealt with. Now, where are we in our negotiations with the humans?”

  “Not far. The truce holds, but it could fail at any moment,” said Dragon. “The humans are hardly speaking to us, and when we can get their representatives to come to the treaty table they continue to reiterate that their only solution is segregation.”

  “Which puts us back to where we were before the war,” said Anastasia grimly.

  Stark used his cookie to gesture. “Worse, actually. Before humans were obviously bigoted against us, but their violence was limited to what amounted to sneak attacks and hate crimes. If we allow our borders to reopen to humans, the violence will no longer be isolated and hidden. Neferet’s war has given human hatred and bigotry a platform. Too much of the country is calling us illegals—saying we don’t belong here and that we need to return to Eur
ope where we came from.”

  “We didn’t come from Europe! It is clear in our history that the first vampyre was created here, in the Midwestern United States,” said Dragon.

  Grandma Redbird spoke softly, but her voice filled the room. “History is being rewritten by fear and hatred.”

  “Then we must combat it with love and truth,” said Anastasia.

  “How?” asked Kevin. “It’s insane out there. Are you guys watching the internet? Do you see all the lies being spread?”

  “I have. It’s like a forest fire,” said Stark. “One small lie, like vampyres being foreign, has caused a blaze of hatred. I’m sorry, High Priestess, but I cannot recommend withdrawing any of our Warriors from the DMZ at this time.”

  “I must agree with Stark,” said Dragon. “Our continued show of force is the only way we’re holding on right now.”

  “It feels like the entire world has turned against us,” Kevin spoke slowly, staring down at his hands.

  Grandma Redbird reached across the table and covered his hands with hers. “No, u-we-tsi, it is not the entire world. Neferet’s cruelness has caused much damage, but there is still love, always love.”

  “And there is our Goddess,” said Anastasia. “She is on the side of Light, and now that the House of Night is once more following her path, I believe goodness will prevail. So, let us begin with a show of goodwill. Sword Master, I want you to announce that our Warriors will be pulling back from boundaries Neferet created.” When Dragon opened his mouth to protest, her raised hand silenced him. She continued. “I am not being foolish. I do not mean that the Warriors return to their usual posts at their schools. I only ask that they fall back under a white flag of peace—if only a few miles. Announce that we willingly stand down so that the peace talks can continue. Then let us see what our human neighbors do in response.”

  “Yes, High Priestess,” Dragon said, though Kevin thought he sounded reluctant.

  “Splendid. I look forward to receiving good news soon,” said Anastasia. “Is there anything else we need to discuss today?”