Walker clicks his tongue. “If the ceremony didn’t name Adair, it was an amazing forgery. Her eyes changed blue in front of everyone.”
Mom rubs her forehead with her fingertips. “When Walker told me about it, I hoped there were two Scala Heirs.” She exhales slowly. “Wishful thinking.”
I close my eyes. Think, Myla. My brain nervously churns through facts about Adair. A minute passes before my eyes pop open again. “Gianna.”
Mom leans back on the couch. “Who’s Gianna?”
I scratch my temple, my mind still whirring. “She’s a Great Lady of the thrax who’s a powerful conjurer. The House of Striga is known for witchcraft; they breed enchanted horses. Gianna stood right beside Adair throughout the ceremony, whispering to her. I bet she was casting spells to change Adair’s eyes. And then to fake her Scala powers.”
“So foolish.” Mom’s mouth melts into a disapproving frown. “Lady Adair knew all along that she wasn’t the real Scala Heir.”
“She’s the type.” I stare hard at my palms, trying to think through what’s an already unthinkable morning. A new question emerges in my mind. “Did Verus also ask your permission to send me dreamscapes?”
“Yes, I appreciated that she wanted to help us rebuild our relationship.”
“It was helpful.” I grimace. Here it comes. Time to revisit the whole question of Verus and her sneakiness. I drum my fingers on my knees. “Let’s recap here. Verus talks you into letting me go to Adair’s initiation, but I’m the one who’s actually awakened. Then, she gets you to agree to dreamscapes and, sure, those help us get along, but they also prepare me to become the Scala Heir. What’s up with that?” My stomach churns with anger and frustration. Mom, Walker, Verus…Who hasn’t been lying and manipulating me for years?
Mom purses her lips, choosing her words carefully. “Angels don’t lie exactly, but they do tell just enough truth to achieve their goals. Take the initiation ceremony. Verus said a fake Scala Heir would be falsely awakened and angelbound. She didn’t say you would be awakened as well.”
Walker groans. “Angels. I’ll never understand them.”
Mom rises, walks over to my chair, and takes my hands in hers. “I’ve been so overwrought, I haven’t said I’m happy for you. If you’re angelbound to Lincoln, that means you love him, deeply.” She pulls me to my feet, wrapping me in a warm hug.
“It does, doesn’t it?” I rest my head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom.”
Wow…a semi-normal mother-daughter interaction. Sure, it’s about my part-angel demon-fighting maybe-boyfriend, but it’s still progress.
Mom retakes her seat on the couch. I curl back into my chair as well. “Let me get this straight.” I tick off the chain of events on my fingertips. “First, I’m awakened and get some basic Scala abilities, like setting off lightning strikes. Second, I get angelbound to Lincoln. Now my powers are stronger, like how I can create igni around my hand. Then, third–”
Mom finishes my thought. “Once Maxon dies, his powers pass on to you.” She rubs her forehead. “You’ll become the full Scala.”
I inhale a breath so deeply, I feel it in my toes. Full Scala. That means everyone in the five realms will be fully focused on controlling me. Suddenly hiding out doesn’t seem like such a sucky idea. I turn to Mom, ready to say just that, when the igni’s advice reappears in my mind: I need to understand everything before deciding what to do. I press my palms into my eyes, trying to think, think, think. My brain almost hurts from this much concentrating.
I frown. “There are still some things I don’t get. Lincoln said angels invited the thrax to Purgatory; they’d never have left their homeland otherwise. This may sound crazy, but I wonder if they wanted me to meet Lincoln. If they wanted me to be angelbound to him.”
Mom bobs her head. “Could be. Although, it was only a matter of time before you fell for a quasi boy.” She smiles. “I always hoped it would be that Zeke Ryder, but Cissy got him first.”
Okay, I just threw up a little in the back of my throat. Quasi boys? Zeke Ryder?
I shoot a plaintive glance at Walker. He’s biting his lips together, trying not to laugh.
“Trust me, Mom. I wasn’t about to snuggle up with a quasi boy any time this millennia. It’s too convenient that right after Verus puts out a call for the Scala Heir, she orders a gaggle of thrax boys to park their carcasses at our doorstep.”
Walker nods. “I’m sure Verus wanted you to connect with Lincoln. You’re too perfectly matched.”
True. But what does that mean? Anxiety tightens my skull. I rub my temples with my fingertips, trying to release the pressure as well as some new insights. Finally, some appear. “That leaves two big questions. Why Lincoln? And why now?”
“Why Lincoln?” Mom pulls a few frayed threads from the armrest. “Angels are always hatching secret plans to fix the universe, Verus especially. If you’re in one of her visions–and that vision says you must love Lincoln–you’ll never know the reason until it’s too late.”
I nod. That sounds true. Incredibly depressing that I may be Verus’s next vision-victim, but true.
Walker folds his long arms into his longer, loopy sleeves. “And why now? Perhaps the angels want to launch a war. It’s no secret they want ghouls out of Purgatory. Having a Scala with a backbone would help them in their fight.”
“To battle the ghouls, angels would attack an unarmed foe.” Mom frowns. “That they’d never do.” Her jaw drops slightly. “But they would prepare for a counter-attack if they thought demons were about to invade.”
I picture the angels giving advice to our headmaster, training my gym class and sending me one awesome dragon-scale fighting suit, free of charge. I point to Mom. “That’s it. The demons must be preparing to invade. Soon.” The moment the words leave my mouth, it’s like the temperature in the living room drops below zero. Another war? I’ve seen what Armageddon can do. Fear twists in my belly. This is a new level of suck.
Walker lets out a frustrated sigh. “They’ve been saying that since Armageddon’s War ended, and it’s never happened.”
“I don’t know Walker, there’s been strange stuff at school.” I wince. “Extra inspections. Teachers being attacked or even killed. It’s bad out there.” I picture the pile of ash that once was Miss Thing and shiver.
Mom taps her cheek. “We need an exit plan.”
I raise my hands to shoulder height, palms forward. “I won’t run and hide.” Despite my best intentions to sound badass, the words come out as more of a question.
“Think about it, Myla.” Mom rises to her feet. “Only angels have blue eyes like yours. If you stay here, the ghouls and demons will figure out who you are, fast. They’ll try to control you. Unlike Adair, you don’t have an army nearby for protection. It’s me and Walker, that’s it.”
I can’t help but smile. Something in that speech reminded me of the Senator Lewis I saw in so many dreamscapes. I slump into my high-back chair, thinking through this crazy morning: finding out Xavier is my father, that I have Scala powers, how Verus connected me with Lincoln, and that demons could invade Purgatory any minute. I suppose I now know what happened to me and why, as the igni instructed me to do. Grim determination seeps into my body. Unfortunately, my next step is all too obvious.
Mom moves closer, her fists on her hips. “What do you want to do?”
I look up and meet her gaze. “Get the hell out of here.”
Mom grins. “Yes, but where to go?” She paces the room. “Earth, Heaven, Antrum, somewhere else?”
I tilt my head from side to side, weighing the options. I’m about to run away and leave my entire life behind. The worn-out gears of my mind spin, circling back to the same name again and again. “Verus can be sneaky, but I’d go wherever she said it was safe.”
Walker laces his fingers together at his waist. “It will take a bit to get an audience with Verus. You’ll need a safe place to hide in the meantime.” He taps the pads of his thumbs in a fast rhythm. “There’s a bu
nker from the old quasi regime, a secret place where leaders went in times of trouble. It’s in the Gray Sea.” He turns to Mom. “We can take Myla there now, then I’ll portal to Verus for advice.”
Mom nods. “I know that bunker. It’s right under a–”
I finish her thought. “–wall of black stone.” Unholy Hell. That’s the very spot where all my dreamscapes have started. My body turns cold. That can’t be a coincidence.
Walker eyes me carefully. “You know this place?”
“I see it in my dreamscapes all the time.” I hug my hands against my body. Suddenly, I’ve never been so cold. “That’s a good sign from Verus, I guess. I’ll go there, no problem.”
Mom sits up straighter. “Agreed, but not now. You have a match tomorrow. If you don’t show up, the ghouls will look for you right away. Walker is right. We need time to contact Verus and come up with a plan. I don’t want you rushing off into worse trouble than you leave behind.”
I try to meet Mom’s gaze, but can only stare at the floor. Worse trouble, right. Not sure what that would be, but with my luck, it’ll find me. “Agreed. I’ll hit the match. With my hood on, no one will see my eyes have changed.” Plus, that’ll give me a chance to say my goodbyes tonight. A grim weight sets in around me. All my friends, school, Arena battles…Everything is about to change.
“It’s settled then.” Walker grips his hands behind his back. “I’ll portal Myla right after the match.”
“Sure thing.” I give Walker a half-hearted nod. Tomorrow morning at 5 AM I’ll be suiting up to leave Purgatory, possibly forever. I blink hard, trying to keep up with events. I just went from being an Arena fighter and homebody to ‘Scala Heir on the run’. I grab a blanket from the couch and wrap it around me. Suddenly, I need a nap like it’s my job.
Mom smoothes back her hair. “I remember that bunker from my days as a Senator. It takes some time to set up and at least four people to open. Is there any way I can get there earlier?”
“Another ghoul could portal you,” says Walker. “How about TIM-29?”
I pull my blanket around me and roll my eyes. TIM-29 is a dip. “This plan has enough stupid in it without inviting that guy around.”
The look on Mom’s face says she agrees. “I haven’t seen Tim since before Myla was born.”
Walker shrugs. “But do you trust him, Camilla?”
She pauses. “Yes, completely.”
“Then I’ll approach TIM-29.” Walker frowns. “You still need two more people.”
My eyes half-open. My overwhelmed brain has just enough functioning cells to spit out one last idea. “If you only need folks to open a door and transport back, Cissy and Zeke can help.”
“Good.” Walker rocks back on his heels. “I’ll speak with your friends as well. We’ll all meet back here before the match tomorrow.” He turns to me and grins. “Angelbound to Lincoln, eh?”
I curl deeper into my blanket and blush. “Yeah.”
“You better tell him about the…” He points to the general area of my eyes.
Rising to my feet, I hunch-walk toward my bedroom. “I’m not doing anything until I’ve had a nap.” I let out a puff of air. What a bitch of a morning.
Mom folds her arms over her chest, a smile twinkling in her eyes. “I’ll call school and tell them you’re sick.”
I loop the top of the blanket over my head. “Thanks, Mom.”
“And Myla?”
I take little shuffling steps to turn around and see her, the blanket still curled around my ears. “What, Mom?”
“I’m very proud of you.”
My face breaks out into a huge smile. I didn’t expect it’d feel that good to hear her say those words. “Thanks, Mom. I’m proud of you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sometime after lunch, Nightshade and I start the long ride to the thrax compound. Mom gave me a ghoul robe to wear; I’m careful to keep the hood drawn low to hide my eyes. As Night and I gallop along, a light drizzle falls over the browning trees and yellow grass. The clouds hang low and dark in the sky.
I sigh. The weather’s as gloomy as my mood. Walker was right. Lincoln and I have a lot stacked up against us, and that was before I became the Scala Heir. Now I’m off to who-knows-where so I can hide for no-one-knows-how-long. I can’t imagine this being good for our relationship.
Night and I soon cross the rolling hills to the open fields of thrax lands. I’m too nervous to enjoy the ride much. My thoughts keep turning over the realizations of the morning and how they probably spell doom and gloom for me and Lincoln. Night whinnies, breaking me out of my funk. I glance about, finding us stopped in front of the thrax feasting hall.
I lean forward and pat Night’s neck. “In here, girl?”
Night whinnies again.
“Thanks.” I slide off her back, step up to the hall’s door and pull on the wooden handle. It opens with a long creak. I step inside, finding everything to be quiet, empty, and dark. My stomach somersaults with nervous energy. How do I even begin to explain everything to Lincoln?
“Hello? Anybody in here?”
No response. In a corner, I hear the clickity-clack of mouse claws on the wooden floor. No one’s around. I stand by the feasting table, drumming my fingers on the rough wood. Anxiety spirals up my spine. The only thing worse than having to explain this to Lincoln? Having to hunt around the thrax compound first and find him. Maybe Nightshade made a mistake.
The door behind me slowly swings open. Adrenaline pumps into my bloodstream. Moving quickly, I pull my hood low over my face, steal across the room, and flatten myself against a stretch of wall by the door.
A column of light slices through the darkened feasting hall. Lincoln steps inside along with two older men.
My body relaxes a bit. Night was right.
The trio step into the darkened room; I adjust my hood for a better look at them. Lincoln wears his traditional leather pants, chain mail, and tunic. An older man stands beside him with ebony skin, long dread locks, and the crest of an Egyptian eye on his chest. Probably, the Earl of Horus. Next to him stands a man with cocoa skin, high cheekbones, and short gray hair. His tunic’s covered with the image of three blue claw-marks: the Earl of Kamal.
The door swings shut behind them, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Horus searches around the feasting table. “Curses, where are those blasted candles?”
“Never mind that,” says Lincoln. “You said your need was urgent.”
Kamal is the first to speak, his voice a rich baritone under a clipped accent. “We heard the House of Striga backed out of the Alliance.”
My brows arch. Alliance? What kind of Alliance?
Lincoln folds his arms across his chest. “Striga has some questions, but I still have their seal on the Alliance parchment. If they back out—if any of you back out—it will mean the King’s wrath.” His voice becomes a low rumble. “You gave your seal. You gave your word.”
I’ve never heard Lincoln get angry before, and I must admit I like him bossy. Desire starts pumping through my veins along with the adrenaline. The skin around my eyes heats up. Hells bells. My stupid inner lust demon’s about to get me caught. Closing my eyelids, I force myself to think about saying goodbye to Lincoln. After a few seconds, I calm down enough to pay attention to the conversation again.
The Earl of Horus waves his hand. “This Alliance isn’t worth the parchment it’s written on. Even with Horus, Kamal, Striga, and Rixa together, we don’t have enough strength of arms to face down the Earl of Acca.”
I inwardly groan. Walker told me about this before. The Earl of Acca runs the most powerful House in Antrum. Now he wants the throne too, which in his mind means Lincoln marrying Adair. Reason number 439 why this relationship is probably doomed.
Kamal snaps his fingers, a falcon swoops from the rafters to land on his shoulder. I stifle a gasp, but Lincoln and the Earls barely notice the animal. I guess the House of Kamal must do stuff like this all the time. “Take my advice.” Kamal runs
his pinky down the falcon’s head. “Give Acca what he wants.”
Lincoln chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “Really? Is that what he wants this week? You’ve seen what happened with my father. Give in once and there’s no end.” He gestures between the two men. “We all know what’s happening here. Acca sees my father as toothless, so now he’s coming after my canines.” He slams his fist into his hand. “I must stand my ground or I no longer deserve my crown.”
His phrase, ‘stand my ground,’ echoes happily around my brain. That means he won’t marry Adair. My mouth winds into a smile. Whatever happens, at least he’ll never end up with that loser.
Lincoln stares coolly at the two Earls. “You speak of the great houses. But are they the only ones in Antrum? The Houses Gurith, Zerihun, and Alura are all loyal to the King, perhaps many more.”
I remember reading about this in a Ryder library book. Thrax live deep underground. Lands below the old world—Europe, Australasia, Africa—are all ruled by Rixa. There are five major houses and hundreds of lesser ones. All follow the King’s law but pretty much run their own show. Excitement strums in my chest. Lincoln plans to unite the lesser Houses and create one great army to fight Acca. I steal a glance at his mismatched eyes and smile. If anyone can do it, he can.
Horus points at Lincoln, the hint of a smile on his wide mouth. “You’re a crafty one, I’ll grant you. So much like Octavia.”
Lincoln nods. “We return to Antrum tomorrow. I’ll reach out to the lesser Houses the moment I return.” He gestures from Kamal to Horus. “Don’t forget why you signed this Alliance in the first place. Once Acca takes down my House, he’ll come for you next. All I’m asking for is a little time.”
Kamal frowns. “And your father supports this? Word is he bows lower to Acca each day.”
Angelbound Page 32