I felt my skin turn green. My saliva went sour. It took every bit of my willpower to keep this food down.
After much gagging, the dozen oysters were gone, their craggy gray shells stacked neatly inside Capricorn’s disposal box. I went back to the crawdads, my orange anger growing, a fire stoked by spices and disgust. Sweat dripped into my eyes, stinging them.
Sweat? This was new, too. Before, I never sweated. Too much ice inside, I supposed. I reached up to wipe the sweat away, but Brennan caught my wrist.
“Don’t,” he said. “That spice on your fingers will hurt like the devil if it gets in your eyes.” I nodded and blinked back the sting, wiping my eyes with my forearm instead.
Capricorn had, by this point, finished his share of crawfish and oysters. His eyes shifted, making sure that no one else here really could see him. Then he lifted the messy paper plate to his mouth and began chewing it.
Uck! Goats. My nose wrinkled.
I cracked open and sucked down a few more crawdads. Every time I tossed a shell into the cardboard box, Capricorn lined it up properly. It was unnerving.
Shells in a box? I thought. That’s what he calls chaos? I gagged down another mudbug. My stomach bulged. The empty shell I tossed flopped into the box. Capricorn huffed and righted it. My orange anger burbled over.
“You have no idea what real chaos is,” I said to Capricorn. He smirked and started nibbling his napkin.
“Chaos is having your whole world turn upside down with the turn of a key.” Another crawfish. Another tossed shell. Another glare.
“Chaos is not being able to pick your best friend out of a crowd of two.” I leaned across the table. My eyes prickled, from sweat or spice or tears, I didn’t know.
“Chaos is not knowing if your dad is alive or dead.”
I suppose I did it to myself. Because as I said it, I felt him. Behind me. I turned, and there he was.
My dad.
He was grinning, his scruffy short whiskers shooting off his smile like fireworks in my heart. He had on his stained apron, the too-small one that said KISS THE COOK in strained letters across his barrel chest. He cocked his head at me.
“Jalen,” he said. His voice! Low and commanding, like a big bass drum. I’d missed it so much. He took a step forward and picked up my hands. They looked small in his. They trembled.
“Jalen,” he repeated. I nodded, speechless. I waited to hear how much he missed me, how much he loved me.
“You are no match for these Keepers. You will lose. You are just a kid.”
I suppose I had known somewhere deep inside that it was a trick. Another nasty, spineless trick of Gemini’s. But I wanted so badly for it to be real. I could pretend, too.
I threw my arms around his huge chest. They barely wrapped around his ribs, even now, four years later. I shook my head against him. “That’s why I will win, Daddy. I have my whole future to fight for.”
His body began to melt, to fade, to disappear. Again. I had been leaning on him, and I stumbled. My arms soon held nothing.
“No!” I screamed. I kicked Capricorn’s cardboard box of shells. Crawdad skeletons and oyster shells fanned across the patio.
“Hey!” the other diners yelled, leaping to their feet. “Watch it!”
Capricorn collapsed, disappearing into rotten-egg mist, an unwelcome smell after all that food, after all that drama. Capricorn bleated his anger so loudly and fully, I felt a pang of envy that I couldn’t do the same.
He rose from the mist in goat form, ducked his head under the table, and upturned it onto the couple next to us, covering them with greasy food and orange spices.
“Jalen,” Brennan said. I looked at him in a daze. His eyes were urgent. “We need to go!”
Capricorn was already bobbing and weaving down Bourbon Street, bleating and ducking into the flock of tourists. We needed to catch him before he ran too far away.
I snapped awake like I’d been slapped. “Where did he go?”
I bumped and jostled through sweaty visitors, spilling drinks and food and apologies. This street was hotter than any other place we’d been today, it was so crammed with bodies. Plus, my shock was turning to anger. I was near boiling.
Purple and gold and green masks swooped between me and Capricorn like the ghosts of Mardi Gras past. Gold-spangled roadblocks, each masked tourist.
The food in my stomach rebelled. I swallowed bile. The Challenge hadn’t been an eating Challenge, after all. That was just to slow me down, to make it almost impossible to catch Capricorn in a chase. And I had fallen for it. It and my dad.
“Jalen!” I managed a look over my shoulder before I rammed into the next sweaty, shirtless visitor. The agents. Running after us.
“Jalen, this isn’t a game,” Agent Cygnus yelled. Tell me about it.
Capricorn bleated a noisy baaaa-aaa and turned at the next block. Brennan and I followed. With two Ellies. I really despised one of those Ellies. I really did.
“Jalen, don’t make us use force!” Agent Cygnus’s voice carried to me around the corner.
The next block was bizarrely empty. Capricorn had left behind the bedlam of Bourbon Street for this quieter scene, a street filled with dusty antique stores.
Capricorn made a hasty turn onto Pirate’s Alley, then slipped into a shallow doorway. The Ellies, Brennan, and I had him cornered.
But the agents had us cornered. Agent Griffin sprang forward and grabbed one of the Ellies. He whisked out his Maglite and put her in a chokehold, the metal flashlight tight against her throat.
Capricorn fainted, his bleat silenced. Brennan jumped on top of him.
Cygnus looked from the goat to the free Ellie to the Ellie trapped in his partner’s chokehold. They could see it, all of it, ever since they’d held the book back on the bridge.
“Twins?” Griffin muttered, yanking the flashlight tighter against Ellie’s neck. “Didn’t see that in our notes.”
“Yes, well,” Cygnus sniffed. “If you won’t cooperate with us, Jalen, we’ll just take your friend here along with us. Until you give us what we want.”
Ellie’s eyes bulged above the Maglite that pressed against her windpipe, whether from fear or lack of oxygen, I didn’t know. Her eyes changed color, behind her fear. The blue blackened, and Ellie’s eyes grew dark as night.
I knew, then. They had Gemini. Gemini’s twin, the one who had been my Ellie, my Nina, my mom, my daddy. The one I loathed.
I would win, wouldn’t I, if I acknowledged who she was right now? I would beat Gemini at her own game at long last. The terror deepened in her black eyes. She knew that I had figured her out.
But I also knew that this Keeper couldn’t end up in the hands of these agents. No, that was far more dangerous than letting her masquerade as my family. What those agents would do with the kind of power Gemini possessed!
“What do you want?” I growled. Capricorn kicked and Brennan bucked, but he kept the goat under control.
“I already told you, Jalen,” Agent Cygnus said, his voice as smooth as his slicked-back hair. “We want Ophiuchus’s stone.”
The trapped Ellie—Gemini’s twin—made a gurgling sound. The other Ellie watched with horror, tears filling her blue eyes.
“I have the stone!” I said. “I already have it.”
I reached down to my cargo pocket and tried to unfasten it. I hoped they didn’t see my trembling fingers fumbling with the button. They’d know I was lying for sure.
“Here it is.” I withdrew Virgo’s cool, sleek sapphire. Its pure brilliance filled the doorway with soft blue light. I prayed the agents had no idea what Ophiuchus’s stone might look like.
Agent Cygnus rubbed his palms together, licked his lips, and plucked the stone from my hands. He inspected it, then jerked his head at Griffin in a “turn her loose” command. Griffin threw fake Ellie to the ground. She landed in a wheezing pile of gasps. The other Ellie scrambled to help her.
The way Agent Cygnus looked at that stone, I knew for certain that he was
n’t hunting Ophiuchus for the safety of all humankind, as he’d claimed. No, he wanted the power of the stone.
“You got what you’re looking for,” I said. My voice wavered. Why couldn’t I lie well even now? “So leave us alone.”
“Gladly,” Griffin said. He pulled his partner’s elbow toward the entry of the alley. “Gladly.” Agent Cygnus couldn’t take his eyes off the birthstone as he was led away.
I hoped Virgo would take it easy on me, after giving away her stone like that.
I hoped Virgo wouldn’t take it easy on them.
And then all the food and the tragedy and the terror rushed up in a wave from my stomach. I vomited.
The Ellie on the ground dissolved into mist. Through the fog I could see her skin twist and morph. The messenger bag disappeared and transformed, becoming a tiny pouch, a draping toga. Blond ponytail lengthened into sleek black hair. A voice drifted through the fog.
It was Gemini in the fog. No, correction: It was Gemini’s twin. Our original Gemini was now here, too.
“Jalen,” the twin said. She stood and gripped my hand hard. “You bartered for my life, even though you knew I was a Keeper. You knew my birthstone couldn’t end up in the custody of those agents, didn’t you?”
I think I nodded. Gemini squeezed my hands harder. “You can be trusted not to abuse Ophiuchus’s powers, yes?”
“Yes,” I said, the sick taste lingering in my mouth. This was the mirror image of the Gemini who had guided us all this way. This being used her left hand instead of her right, her hair flowed to the opposite side, the folds of her toga wrapped to the reverse.
Gemini’s twin turned to Ellie and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I think I can trust Jalen. I know I can trust you. Make sure she finishes, okay?” She gave Ellie a quick hug. A tear slid down Ellie’s cheek. She nodded and gulped.
Gemini’s twin reached into the folds of her toga and withdrew a hefty agate, a solid stone swirled with orange and yellow. She handed it to me. I lifted it over my head and chanted, “Sic itur ad astra.” Gemini floated into the heavens, and the light split, an identical pair of twinkling stars dancing home. It was beautiful, those twin lights spinning and twirling and completing each other.
Her voice was the last to leave us. It whispered in a trail behind her, “They’ll hunt you until they win. Be wary.”
Our guide, the Gemini left behind, watched and whispered, “Thank you, Castor and Pollux.”
She then turned to us. “Jalen, go!” she urged.
Our feet pounded through Pirate’s Alley. Brennan caught up to me, handing me Capricorn’s birthstone. A blood-red garnet. I lifted it, still running, and panted, “Sic itur ad astra.” Behind us, I sensed the lights lifting, felt Capricorn trot home.
Tears streamed down my face. The image of Ellie, crumpled on the sidewalk, had been seared into my brain. It wasn’t my Ellie, of course, but for an instant, for the briefest of moments, I thought, What if?
What if they’d grabbed the other Ellie?
What if they’d captured Gemini’s twin?
What if they get to Ophiuchus’s stone before I do?
It was too much. I stopped. A sob escaped me.
“They wanted to hurt Ellie,” I whispered.
Brennan nodded. “They know how to hurt you without hurting you.”
“Not comforting.”
Brennan laid a soft hand on my shoulder. “I know.”
Ellie hunched beside me.
“Jalen, we have to go now,” she ordered. “I made a promise. And Virgos always keep their promises. So move.”
Brennan spit a laugh and hugged his sister. “She means it, Jalen. Let’s go.”
I smiled through my tears. And nodded. And kept going.
Pirate’s Alley bordered the gardens behind the Saint Louis Cathedral. The silvery triple spires of the cathedral scratched the early-evening sky like claws climbing into the heavens. The massive clock in the middle tower ticked away the seconds, taunting us before all of New Orleans. Tick, tick, tick.
It was 7 o’clock. We had an hour and a half until the sun moved out of the House of Ophiuchus, and two Keepers left to battle. Was it enough time?
“The Cathedral,” Brennan huffed. “Let’s hide in there until we can figure things out.”
The square outside the Cathedral was swarming with tourists, but when we swung open the creaking, wooden doors and bounded inside, heaving and panting, it was silent. Every head in the church turned to look at the three dirty, loud kids who had just clattered in. Ellie turned pink, Brennan swallowed.
A wisp of incense burning in the corner somehow filled this gargantuan white space with the smell of spice. Then tap, tap, tap. Up the wide center aisle, striding across the black-and-white marble floor, was Virgo in her wedding dress. A bride leaving her ceremony.
She sauntered up to me and placed her bouquet on her hip, daisy petals sprinkling to the floor. I felt my heat rise. What would she do to me? I was really in for her wrath now.
But instead she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I knew you’d be smart with that stone.”
I blinked. “Did you get it back?”
Virgo smirked. “Of course I did.”
Brennan cleared his throat. “The agents?…”
Virgo waved him off with a flip of her wrist. “Let’s just say they’ll be tied up for a while.” Ellie grinned at her new horoscope Keeper.
“Did I win?” I asked Virgo. “The challenge with you, I mean.”
She cocked her head like she didn’t understand.
“When you left without your birthstone—” I started.
“I left the birthstone because I knew you’d need it,” Virgo said. “That, and I could return to earth without being called by a Challenger if I left it behind. I owed you.”
“But why?” I asked.
Virgo blinked. “You know why I think you granted me that kiss, Jalen?” she asked. I shook my head.
“Because you’re young.”
The fiery coal in my stomach flared. Again, with the youth.
“Don’t look like that, Jalen,” Virgo said. “I mean, you’ve never even been kissed, have you?”
The fire now blazed across my cheeks. Had she really asked that in front of Brennan?
“It’s a compliment, Jalen. You still believe in true, pure love. And it exists, Jalen. It does. Adult humans forget that sometimes.”
That I knew.
“But the young, they believe.” Virgo leaned close, lightly pinching my chin. “You won because you know that true love does exist,” she whispered. “And you know what else?”
I shook my head.
“Your father won, too.”
I felt dizzy after sending Virgo to the heavens once again, this time with her birthstone. She hadn’t answered any of my questions about my dad, and I didn’t have time to press her. I couldn’t stop picturing Dad, tangling with these creatures of the night. Had he won, overall? Maybe not. I needed to sit.
We slid into a pew, just behind a priest who was clutching a white string of rosary beads and murmuring softly.
“Father,” Ellie whispered, tapping him on the shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt.” Brennan and I exchanged a glance.
The priest startled, and his glasses flashed the red-yellow-orange of the stained glass windows as he turned. He scowled.
Ellie blinked. “I have a few questions. Please. It’s important.”
The priest’s brow sank further. Ellie took his hesitation as an invitation to continue.
She swallowed. “Do you believe in astrology, Father? Horoscopes?”
The priest yanked his glasses off and pointed at us with the ear tips. “Absolutely not. And you better not be dabbling around in those evil arts, either, young lady. Nothing good can come of that.”
Ellie nodded. She probably agreed with him on that point. The priest replaced his glasses and faced forward again.
“Father,” Ellie continued, “what if there was no death? I mean, what if hum
ans could somehow, well, cure it? solve the riddle? Reverse it? Wouldn’t that be a good thing?”
The priest stood and bellowed. “Go, silly children with your stupid questions! Go!” He shooed us with a wave of his wrist like we were pesky flies. His glasses flashed white, his eyes masked.
I grabbed Ellie’s hand and pulled her toward the door. She started sniffling.
I thought of what the agents had told us, how millions of people around the globe were now unfit for their own lives. This priest was now one of them—that was clear. I cracked my knuckles.
“Don’t be sad, Ellie,” I whispered.
“I’m not sad, Jalen; I’m mad!” she snapped, swiping the tip of her nose. “Some people cry when they’re mad.” She looked up at the painted ceiling in an attempt to stop her angry tears. “All I wanted was an answer, you know?” Ellie blinked. “Something to let us know we’re doing the right thing. A sign.”
Brennan chuckled. “As in, hey, babe! What’s your sign?”
I spit a giggle. Ellie’s brow creased. Brennan and I held our breath, waiting for her to burst into tears or to yell at us. Old Ellie—the one I missed so terribly—would’ve totally cracked up at that.
Thankfully, she grinned through her tears. “Yeah. I guess we’ve had plenty of signs today, haven’t we?”
I paused before we left Saint Louis Cathedral. Something about the mural on the ceiling made me look up, up, up until my neck hurt. The painting was full of oranges and yellows and reds; I probably wouldn’t have been drawn to it before. It showed two distinct groups: one, a crowd of people on earth, worshipping together; the other, a crowd in the sky. That crowd was made up of angels and cherubs, with a golden bird in the center, radiating orange and yellow and red rays of hope.
What makes that priest so certain that astrology is evil? How does he know it so surely, when I still can’t even say for certain what I believe, even after today? I mean, I still can’t figure out what’s mine to control and what belongs to Them, the crowd in the sky.
“I believe you can help us, ma’am.” The voice was so clear, like a tiny crystal bell, it took me a moment to realize it wasn’t one of the cherubs in the painting singing down just to me.
The 13th Sign Page 15