“Apparently not,” I respond seriously. “Not the boss of you, anyway.” I want to be mad at her for what she did, for how she risked everything, again, when maybe there could have been another way. But I’m not. How can I be mad when she ended up saving us all? She was amazing. Maybe I really can learn to let the people I love make their own decisions. Even when I hate those decisions. Maybe especially when I hate them.
She holds my gaze, smiling a little. “Well, team captain, then. We’re totally getting T-shirts, you know.”
“Jerseys,” Ryan says at once. “And I already called first pick of numbers.”
Annie puts her hands on her hips. “What? Why do you get first pick? And when did you even call it?”
“Stop,” I groan. “Everyone shut up and get in the hole.”
LB goes in first, and the rest of us follow. I hear a startled cry up ahead and emerge to find LB holding Aaron up against the wall, a pincer open at his throat. We seem now to be inside a pleasant manor house, although the walls shift in color and style and the decorations can’t seem to decide what they want to be. Out of the corner of my eye, I almost get glimpses of stone-walled cave and giant tree-hole, but for the most part the manor house facade holds.
“You’re — you’re not dead!” Aaron says. He has a very satisfying black eye starting to form. I would like to give him a matching one on the other side.
“No thanks to you,” I snarl at him. “Where’s your mistress?”
His face goes white. “Cyn — please. She didn’t know. I’m the one who made that deal. Don’t —”
“Aaron,” calls a weak but familiar voice through an open doorway. “Don’t be rude. Invite our guests in.”
LB steps back, and Aaron, swallowing nervously, leads us into the next room. The demon queen is sprawled out on an enormous circular bed. She’s in full demon form, all fishy and eely, with her poisonous stingers — many of them broken or frayed — arranged artistically around her on tiny cushions. Her tentacles (she has those, too, although thankfully not very many) are also visibly damaged, and there are scary-looking wounds all along her body. Even her colors are dim and muted. She takes in our motley crew, noting LB with particular interest, and then settles her eyes on me.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asks. “You’ll have to forgive me for not getting up. I’m afraid I’m not quite at my best at the moment.”
“I may be able to do something about that,” I tell her.
I hold my hand out to LB, and he takes off the amulet and places it in my open palm.
The queen stares, captivated.
“So it’s true,” she whispers. “All of it. And you — you managed to take it from him?”
“He’s dead. For real this time.”
“I see.”
She still hasn’t taken her eyes off the amulet.
“I think,” I go on, “that I may be able to use this to heal you.”
Now she looks at me again, an unmistakable wariness in her eyes.
“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have to be sneaky about it,” I point out. “Trust me, I have no desire to be queen of the demons, or to help anyone else take your place. I just . . . I just want all of this to be over. Well, and I want a few other things, too.”
Somehow, that last part makes her relax. I guess if there’s one thing demons understand, it’s making deals.
I thought a lot about what to ask for here. I’m sure there’s plenty I could bargain for, with the amulet in my hand. I could make it so we all get into any schools we want and have our pick of all the top choices. I could bargain for money, for power, for all the best opportunities for all of us, for the rest of our lives. But I don’t want those things that way. I don’t want to know that everything good that happens to us is because of everything bad that happened down here.
I want to be done with deals. Done with demons. I want this to be my last trip ever and to not have to come back again as long as I live.
“I want you to fix it so that no more demons can come up uninvited to interfere in our lives ever again,” I tell her. There’s a slight cough behind me, and I roll my eyes. “Not counting Peter, who is, obviously, already interfering. And Peter can still summon his friends or associates or whatever if he wants to. But I want all of us to be safe from any of Mr. Gabriel’s former followers seeking revenge, or anyone else coming after us for any reason whatsoever. ‘All of us’ to include Ryan, Annie, Peter, Leticia, Diane, William, and all of our families and friends and loved ones.”
I’d wanted to include LB in that list, but he refused. He wants to fight any of his brother’s supporters who dare to come after him. And I hate that idea, but I didn’t argue. Much. See? I can learn. I am learning.
I did suggest one possible alternative, though, which he said would be okay.
“Also, LB — that’s the big guy there — is allowed to come ask you for a favor if he ever needs one. Which you will grant, if it’s within your power and doesn’t directly threaten your goals and interests.”
The queen nods, acquiescing.
There’s a chorus of other slight coughs behind me.
“Also, none of us are ever to get any terrible diseases like cancer or syphilis or anything else, and none of us will die in tragic accidents. And we’ll always be able to get really good deals on phone and cable and internet service. And shoes.” I threw in that last one especially for Diane.
I wait, and then there’s one more very quiet cough.
I manage to smother a smile. “And Ryan will have his lovely full head of hair for the rest of his life and not go bald like all the men on his mother’s side have since the dawn of time.”
“I believe all of that can be arranged,” the queen says, smiling slightly.
“And — and I want to be able to get great theater tickets at ridiculous discounts wherever and whenever I want. Forever.” Well, why not? Shut up.
“Done. In exchange for what exactly?”
“I am going to use my ability and this amulet to heal you. If I can. But I think I can. And then — and then I am going to give the amulet to you.”
She blinks, the only outward sign of her surprise. I’m sure she thought it would be a lot harder to make me hand it over. If I would at all. I know I could have tried for a deal that was just a loan, so that we’d have to renegotiate for new things after so many years or whatever. But I really do want to be done down here. I don’t want to have to think about seeing her again, about making new deals. Yeah, I know I might regret that down the line, and maybe I should be adding things about college funds for my potential future kids or whatever . . . but aside from a few small rewards that I think we’ve totally earned, I don’t want demons controlling our lives. Not even in good ways.
She looks at me for a long moment, something I can’t identify flickering just behind her eyes.
“Deal,” she says at last, and I feel the tingly sensation of a deal made, and I exhale with enormous relief.
Then I step forward and sit beside her on the bed. I hold the amulet in one hand and place the other on her smooth, scaly skin. Closing my eyes, I visualize my protection channeling through the amulet and into the demoness. As with Peter in the prison, I only have to go halfway; she takes it from there, pulling my power toward her and using it to heal herself. I think that’s part of why I couldn’t remove the curse from Ryan in the same way — not being a demon, he wasn’t able to direct the power on his side of things. Well, that, and possibly curses are different from other kinds of wounds. Peter seemed pretty sure that only the curse-placer could remove the curse, after all.
Or else it’s just one more thing about how demon stuff works that I will never understand.
My thoughts start to float around, and I realize that I’m drifting away inside myself, as I did that first time with Peter. It’s kind of nice, and I don’t fight it. When I come back, Ryan is sitting beside me and my head is resting on his shoulder.
“Did it work?” I ask sleepily.
I feel like I could take the world’s longest nap, right here on this giant demon bed.
“Yes,” says the queen in a far stronger voice than before. I turn to see her standing now, but I don’t remember her actually getting up. “Thank you, dear Cynthia. That was . . . quite refreshing.” She’s switched to her partial human form, which makes it a lot easier to talk to her. She also looks much, much better.
“Excellent. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. Except not really.”
“Of course, you realize this doesn’t negate our previous deal.”
I stare up at her, suddenly no longer sleepy.
“What?”
“Our previous deal. The lendings to me of your power? You’ve still got one more to go.”
“No. Because remember? Three times? That, just now, was the third time. Deal over. I never have to come back here again.”
“I’m afraid that’s not the case, Cynthia.”
I feel the familiar unpleasant sensation of hatching panic beetles, but I ignore them, because she is wrong about this and so there is nothing to panic about.
“No. No, no. Three times. Those were the terms. The first time, and then two more.” I want to ask someone to back me up on this, but no one else was actually present and conscious when she and I made the original deal in the first place.
“Two more times of my choosing,” she says. “I did not summon you this time.”
“But —” I point at Aaron. “He . . . he came, and . . . and he said . . .”
“I was unconscious,” she says calmly. “Aaron may have asked you to come, but it was not at my command. And while I greatly appreciate your generous offer just now to help me heal my very serious wounds, that was, in fact, your own generous offer. I didn’t ask you to do it.”
I keep staring at her. “You can’t be serious.”
She only smiles.
“I gave you the amulet! You’re — you’re like a million times stronger now. You won’t even need me! Just . . . just let this be the third time.” My voice gets very small. “Please.”
“I’m sorry, Cynthia. I cannot change the terms of the deal any more than you can.”
I am speechless. This is really, really not fair.
“But,” Ryan says, “but . . . you could just promise not to summon her again, couldn’t you? I mean, okay, you can’t change the deal, but you don’t have to act on the third time, right? You could just let it go.”
“I could,” she agrees. “And perhaps, as Cynthia has pointed out, I will not need her assistance again. But if I do . . .” She trails off and shrugs her almost-human shoulders.
Then she turns and moves toward a door that appears to lead farther inside her sanctuary.
“Aaron, please show our guests out.” And with that, she disappears through the doorway.
Aaron silently leads us back out to the main entrance. LB once again goes first, then Ryan, Peter, and Annie. As I duck my head to go after them, Aaron puts a hand on my arm. He stands like that for a moment, seeming to be trying to think of something to say.
“I hate you,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “For all of it, really. I kind of like you guys, you know. I hope . . . I hope she decides never to call you again.”
I shake him off and push my way out of the hole. I glance back only once, and see his shoulder fins waving in what might be farewell.
There is a gateway waiting for us outside the queen’s hideout.
I turn to LB. “We have to go back now.”
“Yes,” he says.
“Are you . . . will you be okay? You did a lot of fighting today. I know you said your brother’s heart will help, but . . .”
“I will be okay,” he says in his calm, gravelly voice. “I will be more than okay.”
“Well, good. That’s good. I’m very glad to hear that,” I say, meaning it. I reach up to place my hand on his abdomen, which no longer disgusts me nearly as much as it used to. “Thank you for all of your help. You were a very important member of our team.”
LB looks down at me with his shiny, unreadable eyes. “If you need help again, I will help you. A promise. Not a deal.”
“Thank you, LB,” I say, surprised and pleased. “That is a very lovely promise.”
“Maybe I’ll give you a call sometime,” Peter tells him. “Check in, see how things are going.”
LB nods his bull-bug head, apparently finding this an acceptable proposal, and then begins lumbering away down the street/path/dried-up ravine. He does already seem stronger. He’s also got a noticeable bounce in his step, although I’m not sure that has anything to do with his physical state of being.
The gateway brings us back to the library. It’s dark outside, and I realize I have no idea how much time has passed this round.
“I think we’ve been gone at least another full day,” Peter says, guessing our concern. “And one night.”
“Can you do anything about that?” Ryan asks him. “Help us out? Jorge might have run out of excuses for me by now.”
“Sure,” Peter says. “I can help your families believe whatever you want to come up with. Overnight school bonding activity or something?”
I feel a little guilty letting Peter magically affect our parents’ minds, but . . . in the end I accept, as does everyone else. One must be practical about these things.
With Peter’s help, we get out of the school without setting off any alarms or anything. Ryan takes out his phone and walks a few feet away to call for a cab. Annie steps away too, to give Peter and me a chance to say good-bye.
He is smiling at me sadly. “I guess it might be a while,” he says.
“Not too long, maybe,” I say. “You could come see Les Misérables when it goes up.”
“That’s true. But that’s not what I meant.” He looks at Ryan.
“Do not sit around waiting for us to break up, Peter. It’s not happening.”
“I know,” he says. Then his smile twists up a little and he gets that evil glint in his eye that I have learned to be wary of. “Not anytime soon, anyway. But I’ve got time.”
The car arrives, and Peter walks us over to it.
“You’re not coming?” Ryan asks.
“I’ve got my own way home,” Peter says. “Is it okay if I kiss your girlfriend good-bye?”
“Nope,” Ryan says, pulling me into the car beside him. But then he pauses, and leans over to offer Peter his hand. “Thanks, Peter. For everything. We owe you a lot. I — I owe you a lot.”
Peter looks for a moment like he’s trying to decide what to say. Then he just takes Ryan’s hand and shakes it. “You’re welcome. Try to stay out of trouble for a while this time, yeah?”
Then Annie gets in on the other side of me, and then we are all waving at Peter through the window. And then the car turns a corner, and he is out of sight.
The cast list goes up Monday morning.
Ryan’s name is there, next to Javert, exactly where it should be.
Jeff ended up with Thénardier, which (we hear) he claims to be fine with, since he’s already had the chance to play Javert at his old school. We don’t care if he’s fine with it or not, though, really.
Mr. Henry is overjoyed to have his anticipated dream cast, since everyone else also got the parts they had been expecting to. I am overjoyed to get to begin work on the barricade, as well as the runaway cart and the suicide bridge and everything else. My backstage minions are primed and ready.
I am also overjoyed to be back in the human world where I belong, surrounded by my friends, and not facing any immediate threats of death or destruction. I try not to think too much about the possibility of being called back once more to the demon world. The queen really is super strong with the aid of the amulet now. She should not need me. At least not anytime soon. And maybe not ever. Probably not ever. Really almost certainly not ever. So I am not going to worry about that. At all.
But I’m still going to keep practicing using my ability. I know Pe
ter will help me if I ask. Hopefully I’ll never need to use it. But I spent too much time over this last week kicking myself for not being prepared. I’m not going to be caught unprepared again.
Ryan has started talking about college applications again. And snacks. I am overjoyed about this, too.
Peter sends a letter a couple of weeks later, including not only news about himself but also of LB, whom he has taken to summoning every now and again for a little chat and check-in. LB has apparently gained some notoriety for his role in recent events, and now leads a small gang of demons who follow him as their leader. I’m really glad for him. I wonder if we can send them down some team jerseys.
Les Misérables rehearsals started the week after callbacks. It’s mostly a ridiculous lovefest, because all of us are so excited to be a part of it. Mr. Henry has literally not stopped smiling once since the cast list went up. Jeff really does seem to be perfectly content being Thénardier (not that it matters, but whatever) and he’s actually pretty funny in the bits I’ve gotten to see him do so far. Peter has offered to give him boils or something for our amusement, but really we don’t mind him so much now that he’s no longer a threat to the proper order of things in the universe.
Tonight is the first night Ryan is going to sing “Stars,” and even though I have heard him sing this song about a hundred million times now, I sneak out to the audience to watch him. It’s always different when he’s onstage; he stops being Ryan and becomes whoever he’s playing, and even though I’ve seen that happen a whole bunch of times, too, it doesn’t stop being a magical thing to see.
The music begins and at first no one but me and Mr. Henry is paying much attention, but then Ryan begins to sing and everyone else stops what they’re doing and turns toward the stage. He begins softly, taking his time, and as always I could just sit and listen to him forever. But I’m also listening to the words, and even though I know how the story goes and of course this is already the beginning of the end for poor Javert, setting up his inflexible stance that ultimately breaks him, right now all I can hear is the part about the stars all knowing their place in the sky, and that sense of everything being where it belongs washes over me again. I’m so profoundly relieved and grateful to be here, now, living this moment and doing what I love and being with the best people in the world.
Curse of the Evil Librarian Page 24