by Michele Vail
“What?” He looked surprised for a second, and then comprehension dawned. “No, no. Nothing like that. The medics checked you and Rick out. You’re fine. I’m sure his parents will want to talk to me tomorrow. Kid gets his head bashed at my place.” He shook his head sorrowfully. “Accident or not, that’s not a good thing.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Not your fault, baby.” He looked me over. “Change your clothes and brush your hair before you come down.”
It was a weird request. The curl in my gut tightened and tightened into a throbbing ball of nerves.
My dad smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. No, in his eyes I saw worry and fear. Seeing my dad less than confident—worse, it was like he was ruled by dread—scared me.
What was going on?
“All right,” I said. “Be down in a sec.”
“’Atta girl.” He hesitated a second more, looking as though he wanted to pull me into one of his bear hugs, and I wanted it. I waited for it. Instead he reached out a hand and awkwardly patted my shoulder. “You’re a good girl, Molly. A real good girl.”
“Um. Thanks.”
He nodded, still looking sad, and turned away.
I shut the door and leaned against it, sucking in hot, stinging breaths. Not getting a hug left me feeling bereft. Since Dad hadn’t given me a clue about who I was supposed to impress, I changed into a clean pair of jeans and an Aeropostale T-shirt. I brushed my hair until it crackled and then crept down the stairs.
As I entered the living room, I saw that all the decorations had been taken down. Everything was in its place, just as if I’d never even had a sixteenth birthday party. Wow. That sucked.
Two people sat on the couch, looking stiff and uncomfortable. I could tell right away by their clothes that these people were wealthy. Their hair was silvery gray, cut stylishly and they both seemed to wear their age well without relying too heavily on artifice. I was just guessing, of course. I dunno. There’s just something about people who have a lot of money; I saw rich people all the time at the Zomporium. It was a vibe, an attitude. I guess knowing you could buy anything at any time made you feel superior. That was certainly the case with Mina and her friends.
Me? Not so much.
“Good evening,” said the woman. Her tone was like glass, and when she took her measure of me, I knew instantly that I’d come up short.
The man nodded at me, giving me a small, tight smile.
“Hi,” I said, feeling shy and intimidated. I glanced at my dad.
He cleared his throat, and gestured toward the couple. “Molly, meet your grandparents.”
Chapter 6
“Some necromancers believe the original bloodlines can be traced. Even in these modern times, there are families who lay claim to being the Chosen of Anubis. Though some early texts indicate the original Gifts were granted to nobility, there is no evidence to support that this was, indeed, the case.”
~The Bloodline Conspiracy by Stephen Roberts
Dad’s voice offered politeness, but I knew that undertone, one of controlled anger. Like he might pop any second if I said or did something wrong. But this time his fury was directed at the couple who sat primly on our living room couch.
Sweet Anubis.
My mother’s parents.
Dread did a slow burn in my belly. Mom had told us that her parents had disowned her after she married my dad. I’d never met them before, and that was weird, right? Maybe they’d disowned us, too. Still, Dad had raised me with manners, so I crossed the living room and held out my hand to the woman. She took it, and I tried not to flinch at the cold, papery feel of her skin. Her handshake was firm, though.
The man’s hand was warmer, and his handshake just as firm.
“I’m Derek Briarstock,” he said. “Your grandmother’s name is Sandra.”
I nodded and slid my hand out of his grip. I wondered why my grandmother—ugh—hadn’t introduced herself. Maybe her husband was used to doing it for her. I was getting the creeps, and bad. I went to stand next to my father. “Nice to meet you,” I managed in a quiet voice.
“It seems you’ve had quite a night,” said Sandra. I couldn’t think of her as “Grandma.” I couldn’t believe my mother had been born to, and raised by, these chilly, distant people. Mom had been passionate and impulsive. She was all color where these two were all gray.
They seemed to be waiting for me to confirm whatever “quite a night” meant. Or something. I felt so uneasy, my stomach was roiling. I went for the simplest explanation.
“My bo—er, friend fell and hit his head.”
“Ah. And you helped him?” Sandra asked. Her eyes reminded me of my mom’s, except they were far colder. The blue of my mother’s eyes had been warm—a summer sky—but Grandma’s were like a glacier. She tilted her head, her gaze rife with disapproval, and I realized she was waiting for me to answer her question. I felt shaky all over again. What were they doing here?
“N-not really,” I said. “Rick just got knocked out.” The lie made my tongue feel thick, but I couldn’t admit that I’d been able not only to see his soul, but also touch it.
My palms went clammy.
Sandra opened her mouth again, her eyes flashing with an anger that seemed, at least to me, old. Fury I hadn’t caused but was directed at me anyway. She’d made it mine. My dad sent her a warning look. Her mouth drooped into a frown, but she pressed her lips together, obviously choking down the words she wanted to say.
“Molly, you need to sit.” Dad patted the top of his favorite recliner.
I plopped down. My stomach worsened with the jitters. My mouth had gone dry and still tasted metallic, and I couldn’t get words to form. The whole thing was seventh-vibe creepy, right?
I wasn’t stupid. They knew—and I didn’t know how or why—but they knew I’d given Rick his soul back. And that meant my dad had figured it out first. Or had he? Wait. Had he contacted my grandparents? Why? What did they have to do with anything? I looked at my dad, and he smiled, but his gaze was sad. He leaned down and patted my arm. “It’s all right, Molly.”
But it wasn’t.
Somehow I knew it just wasn’t all right.
My throat felt dust-coated. I swallowed painfully and licked my lips, which were cracked and sore.
“She needs to hydrate,” said Sandra, her voice just short of imperious. She seemed to realize she sounded all queen of the manor, and I saw her cheeks go pink. She didn’t apologize, though. I got the feeling that Sandra High-and-Mighty was never wrong enough to offer a sentiment as common as, “I’m sorry.”
“Here, bella,” said Nonna. She walked into the living room with a tray filled with lemonade and cookies. My father took it from her and put it on the coffee table. Nonna poured a glass and handed it to me. Then she leaned over and kissed my brow. “You gonna be okay,” she said. Her brown eyes were kind, but behind that love, I saw her worry, too.
This whole situation was freaking me out. I drank the lemonade, but the sweet drink didn’t quell my nerves. In fact, my stomach kinda rebelled. I held the chilled glass in my hands, staring at the ice cubes floating in the yellow liquid. After Nonna served Derek and Sandra, she nodded in that regal way of hers and turned to leave. She glanced at me as she headed back toward the kitchen, her gaze watery, and her smile flimsy.
“What’s going on?” I blurted.
“You know when I went to Reno, honey?” said Dad. He knelt next to the recliner and put his hand on my knee. “It wasn’t to scout a location for a new zomporium. I went to see your grandparents.”
“Why?” I asked. I slid a look at Derek and Sandra. “No offense, but you haven’t exactly been around much.”
“As is tradition for necromancer families,” said Sandra coolly, “we went to the Anubis Oracle.”
I went cold all the way to my toes. “What?”
Sandra sipped her lemonade. “The sixteenth birthday for a necromancer is an important milestone. You come into your power fully. Most—�
� and here she gave my dad a wintry look “—parents go to the Oracle to find out their children’s destinies.” Her expression warmed up, in the same way a glacier might under anemic sunlight. “We went instead. You are especially gifted, Molly.”
My heart felt as if it had dropped into my stomach. It lodged there, as heavy and rough as a brick. I thought about the Anubis dream, and then how I’d met Rath, and how I’d saved Rick. I wasn’t a moron. It all fit together. Of course it did. All the same, I didn’t want any of this to be real. I wanted it to be over. I wanted to wake up and just be plain ol’ me. Going to school on Monday to face the stares and whispers about my party would seem like a cakewalk compared to what was going on now.
“Mol,” said Dad, his tone heavy with sorrow. “You need to hear this. It’s important.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I said. “I don’t care about whatever the Oracle said. My life is mine. It’s not fair to just...decide my fate for me.” Tears gathered in my eyes.
“I know,” he said. “But this isn’t something you can walk away from, baby. You’re special. Real special. You’re gonna do some amazing things. Important things.”
Panic welled. I had accepted Anubis’s invitation to serve him. I guess I’d thought that there was some kind of waiting period. Or that I could at least finish high school before I went off and did whatever stuff the deity had in mind. I was only sixteen! What could I possibly do to help anyone? Right now, I couldn’t even help myself.
“What did the Oracle say?” I asked. I couldn’t stop my voice from cracking.
Dad glanced at my grandparents and nodded.
Sandra smiled, and it was almost sincere. “You’re one of Anubis’s chosen, Molly. Within the girl dwells the warrior the world needs. She will serve the gods faithfully, and through her, Anubis will defeat evil.”
“I don’t know how to fight,” I said. “I’m not a warrior.”
“Your education has been somewhat lacking,” said Sandra. “Not that we didn’t try to help you, you understand.” She looked at my father accusingly.
“She deserved a normal life,” he said.
Sandra’s silver eyebrows went up. Then she looked at me. “You’re not a normal girl, my dear. Neither was your mother.”
Her voice held a hint of sadness, but I didn’t know whether it was from grief, or that she just was annoyed that Mom hadn’t stuck around to live out a blueblood existence.
“I’m not my mother,” I said. I looked at my dad. He nodded at me encouragingly.
“Your father agreed to meet with us in Reno, and when we gave him the news, he said no,” offered Derek. His tone was kind. He briefly met my Dad’s gaze. “He’s a good man. He wants to protect you. But sometimes, Molly, no matter what you do, you can’t protect your children.” Derek’s soft blue eyes met mine, and I saw steel there. Not in a mean way. It was more like strength. You know, I kinda liked this guy.
“Cynthia walked away from her destiny,” said Sandra, her voice brittle. “Will you do the same, Molly?”
“Now, hold on,” Dad roared, surging to his feet. Italian blood ran hot, and I’d seen him and Nonna in tempers that would make lesser people cower. “You won’t push Molly around like that, y’hear me? I don’t care what your fancy Oracle said.”
Sandra’s face mottled. “Anubis’s will is absolute.” She drew in a breath, and I noticed her hands were trembling. I realized my grandmother wasn’t as much in control as she wanted us to believe. “We don’t have much time, Alfonso. She needs training and education. If she does not go to her destiny, it will come for her.”
Whoa. This was a whole ’nother level of WTH. I’d never known much about my mom’s past. Her parents were never mentioned, and were never part of our lives. It seemed to me that Mom spent a lot of time walking away from the people she was supposed to love.
“You shouldn’t have visited that damned Oracle!” said Dad.
“Al,” said Derek in a placating tone. “This is about Molly.” He smiled at me, but this time it wasn’t exactly a comforting, grandpa-esque kind of smile. “You had the Anubis dream.”
I glanced at my dad. Then I nodded.
“And you accepted.” Derek seemed certain of this fact.
I nodded again. I wrapped my hands tightly around the glass of lemonade. Its chill did nothing to settle my nerves. My stomach was pitching around, and I thought I might vomit.
“Then you’ve chosen your path,” said Derek. “Cynthia had the dream, too.”
“She said no,” said Sandra. Her voice held bitterness. “You’ve already shown wisdom, Molly. It is a great honor to be chosen by the god of death.”
I didn’t know what to say. My mom hadn’t shared much about her life, and I would’ve remembered a conversation with her where she told me, “And yeah, I totally told Anubis to take a hike.”
“Mol, you didn’t tell me about the dream.” Dad’s anger gave way to a quiet angst. He rubbed at his temples. “Ah, baby girl.” His sorrow seemed to deepen, to creep into the room like cloying smoke.
“I didn’t know it was important,” I said. “I mean, not like this.”
“She accepted,” said Sandra, her voice almost gleeful. “If Molly is truly the servant of Anubis, and the Oracle has confirmed her destiny, then you know what must be done, Alfonso.”
I really wished she’d stop saying destiny. It made my skin crawl. I looked at my Dad’s face and felt panic skitter over me like spiders.
“What?” I asked. “What has to be done?”
Dad took my lemonade and put it on the table. “I know you did something to Rick, to fix him. Right? I heard the kids saying how he was dead an’ all until you touched him.”
Was Rath right about me? No. Freaking. Way. I stared at my Dad. “I’m not a reaper. I’m not!” I waved my hands around. “For one thing, I’m not dead!”
“What are you talking about Molly?” Dad’s brows drew together. “Who said you were going to be a reaper?”
I heaved a breath. “No one. I’m being stupid.”
He looked at my grandparents, and they didn’t look the least bit surprised that I’d blurted out something about reapers. They knew something about me, something about why I had abilities. I felt sick. Really sick. I clutched my belly.
My dad had gone pale. “You didn’t say nothing about my Molly being a reaper.”
“It isn’t our choice, Al,” said Derek.
“You are beyond special, Molly. Just like your mother. It’s no wonder Anubis chose you.” Pride had entered Sandra’s tone, even though her expression was tainted by haughtiness.
I blinked. “You mean Mom was supposed to be a reaper?”
“You will go beyond being a mere reaper,” said Sandra. “Your mother could have been Anubis’s champion. Like you.” Her eyes went distant for a moment, as though she were considering all the wonderfulness that would’ve been hers had Mom followed through with her fate. I felt a keen sympathy for the girl my mother had been—especially if she had to deal with this dragon lady every single day. I couldn’t imagine how Mom had managed it. Maybe that’s why she bailed.
Gah! Everything was so confusing. My mind spun with all the possibilities, all the freakiness. And I was really tired. If only I could go upstairs and sleep, then wake up and find out the only destiny I had was to date Rick and survive high school.
“The Briarstocks can trace their lineage all the way to ancient Egyptian nobility,” said Sandra. “But your blood is even more—”
“Enough.” My dad cut off Sandra coldly.
Derek cleared his throat. “You raised her, Al, and you did a fine job. But you know this is bigger than you, than any of us. The past is the past. This is about Molly, about what’s right for her.”
“What are you talking about?” I was so on edge, I was shaking.
Dad grabbed the lemonade and handed it to me. “Drink it all, Mol.”
I gulped the liquid down, even though my stomach was still threatening to rebel. The nausea subs
ided, though. I sucked in a breath and tried to find some calm.
“There’s a school,” said my father slowly. “The Nekyia Academy of Necromancer Arts. Your mom and your aunt went to it.”
“I have an aunt?” I asked.
“She died a long time ago,” said Derek.
“Oh,” I said. “Sorry.”
Grandpa Derek acknowledged my sympathy with a short nod.
“You’re a legacy,” said Sandra, her voice eager. She’d completely ignored the mention of her daughters. “Generations of Briarstocks have attended Nekyia. In fact your grandfather’s family helped found the school.”
I’d seen commercials on television for Nekyia Academy, but never paid much attention. That school was for necros with lots of money, and it was in Reno, so... Oh, crap. As if everything that hadn’t come before this moment, this terrible moment, hadn’t been sucky enough. I looked at my father. “Dad?”
He looked tense. “It’s the primo school, baby.”
“How are we supposed to afford it?” I cried. We weren’t poor or anything, but we weren’t rich, either. We were normal. Just normal. At least, until the Anubis dream. And the incident with Rick. Rick! If I went to this stupid new school, I wouldn’t see him anymore. I wouldn’t see any of my friends. Becks. Gena. My whole life would be gone.
“We’ll take care of all your expenses,” said Derek. “We’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe in addition to the uniforms.”
“Uniforms!” I said, horrified. Well, this situation was just getting better and better.
“It’s a boarding school,” added Sandra. “So you’ll be there full time except for holidays, of course. And we do hope you’ll spend an occasional weekend with us. We would like to be part of your life, Molly.”
“You mean you’d like to be part of my life now that I’m Anubis-certified, right?”
Her face drained of color and my grandfather placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder. He looked at me with a frown, and I felt bad for being rude. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t hit on the truth.
“They stayed away because I asked them to, Molly,” my dad said.