AMANI: Reveal

by Marie, Lydhia

  “Oh, you know, the very mundane quest of finding a way to kill me!”

  ***

  “So, tell me young man, what have you tried so far?”

  Because we had stopped at Tim Horton’s on our way to Hibiscus’s office, we were fifteen minutes late. But she was so excited that she didn’t even seem to notice. When we arrived, she immediately grabbed Xander’s arm and dragged him inside her office, forcing him to sit on a chair she’d set in the middle of the small room.

  “Nothing much, really. I don’t normally afflict myself with pain for fun.”

  Karl cleared his throat. “I personally fought against Rascals and I can assure you that bullets do not kill them. One in the head might slow them down at most. And they cannot be burned either.”

  “Then let’s cross those off my list.”

  “You were planning on shooting me in the head?” Xander yawped. He looked at me like he would do anything to get out of this situation.

  Hibiscus waved his worries away. “They were at the bottom of my list, obviously. We are first going to try and find a way to hurt you permanently. Killing you immediately would prevent us from—”

  “Hm, ma’am,” I interrupted at the sight of Xander’s increasing alarm. “We are here to find a way to clear Xander’s name so that some people won’t try to murder him. Killing him any time in the process would counteract with our plan.”

  “I see… In that case”—she stared at Xander—“I’ll do my best to keep you alive, young man.” She crossed another word off her list. “Ha! Blowing you up isn’t an option either, I suppose…”

  Samera, Xander, and I kept glancing anxiously at each other.

  “Didn’t you, um, try anything on your friend in high school?” I asked. I still couldn’t face the fact that my father was a Rascal, but I wondered nonetheless if she had experimented on him before. “Weren’t you both curious at the time?”

  Hibiscus considered her answer. In the end, she shook her head and said, “We were young. We looked at things a different way. Let’s just say we made the best of what we had.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She smiled and quickly unbraided her hair. “He needed to feed on dreams, see. I remember very well. But, as you may already know, Rascals also have the ability to transfer some of what they feed on onto somebody else.” She was lost in her memories for a moment and then looked directly into my eyes. “Your father and I, well, let’s just say our nemeses didn’t sleep very well. Mind you, nightmares are bloody tiring.” She paused. “Yes, Kellen rang me an hour before you turned up,” she added, probably reading my startled expression. “He said his daughter, Amya, had just learned the truth about him. He also asked me to tell you he was sorry—”

  “Don’t bother,” I retorted quickly. “I don’t want to know any more. Shouldn’t have asked in the first place.”

  Sadness brushed her eyes for just a second before she went back to braiding her hair. “A great person he is your dad… Great chap.” She paused before she turned her gaze back to Xander. “But we’re here for a precise purpose and we’re not leaving this office before I’ve discovered your weakness, young man,” she told him.

  Hibiscus stretched her arm under her desk and grabbed a leather suitcase on wheels. She bent and opened the first zipper. Then, she pulled out a leather bag that contained a set of strangely-shaped knives.

  “W—what is this for?” Samera asked.

  “This is my collection of knives found during archeological searches.” Hibiscus expressed herself much like she would in front of a class. “This is an iron knife from the pre-dynastic Egypt; a bronze dagger from remnants in Rome, and finally, one of my most prized possessions, a flint knife from the late pre-dynastic period!”

  My best friend continued her interrogation. “What will you do with these?”

  The professor started rolling Xander’s sleeve up. “I thought about it all day—couldn’t concentrate on my class—so I gave my students a short, unexpected test and told them they had the rest of the class off. No one complained; that’s a shock. In any case, I thought that maybe, just maybe, Rascals could be affected by a kind of material. A metal perhaps…”

  “Just like werewolves are sensitive to silver?” I asked.

  Samera rolled her eyes. “You read too much, Amya.”

  “Werewolves don’t exist, dear, but you do get what I mean, indeed.”

  “Who knows,” I muttered under my breath so that only Xander and Samera could hear, “my mother could be one for all I know.”

  “All right! Ha!This is exciting! We shall start with iron,” Hibiscus announced.

  Now that it was clear she was not allowed to kill Xander, the latter seemed to relax. Even as Hibiscus cut deep into his forearm, he did not wince, but kept his gaze steady on the wound, which healed instantly.

  “Definitely not iron.”

  For an hour, she tried her ancient knives on Xander, plus other instruments made of different materials such as aluminum, steel, wood, clay, concrete, and even silver. None of the incisions lasted more than five seconds. Defeated, the professor sent us home after all.

  “I will think about it some more. There certainly is a mineral or material that can hurt you,” she pondered. “I must attend a seminar tomorrow… Come back on Wednesday, would you? I should have found the answer before then.”

  The walk back to Madame M.’s was chilly and quiet. I made a mental note to go shopping for a winter coat tomorrow because mine was definitely not up for Canadian weather.

  I knew Xander needed to feed to regain his strength after an hour of incessant injuries, so I held and squeezed his hand, and waited for him to understand. At first, he shook his head and whispered that he needed too much.

  “Good,” I replied. “There are a few emotions I wouldn’t mind losing for a while.”

  The fact that he would be helping someone other than himself convinced him at last. For a few wonderful minutes, I felt careless and untroubled. I wanted to dance under the snow and whirl and sing! But then, before we stepped inside Madame M.’s house, Karl said he wanted to call Michelle to make sure she was all right and to ask if the Protectors had found any trace of my sister yet.

  And just like that, all those emotions eating me up came rushing back. At eight-thirty, I was lying on the couch, swaddled in Madame M.’s warmest blanket, reading The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman, and ready to fall asleep. Both Doc and, I believed, Sleepy were perched on top of my legs purring like their lives depended on it; Samera and Xander were going through clothes Madame M. had bought for us today; and she and Mr. Jensen spent the entire evening training in our host’s basement. Apparently she had all the necessary equipment for a thorough workout and fighting session. At some point, Samera bid us goodnight and went to her room while Xander joined the training downstairs. And I was left to myself, at last able to close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep…

  Until I woke up to the sound of slow footsteps and whispers behind me and felt a bag over my head.

  Chapter XX

  Ian Cohen

  I swear I had no choice. I couldn’t possibly let Amanda ruin everything I’d built with Meo, just because she’d found out about him.

  Or had she? The second she told me she’d answered Meo’s coop-hole call I seized her, Traveled to the Red Dimension, and tied her to the balcony of a skyscraper under construction parallel to HQ.

  The inconvenience was that I needed to go back later tonight to make sure she was still there… and to feed her. Like I had time for that.

  I did consider killing her. Annoying as she was, she wouldn’t have been a great loss for humanity. But since she’d last been seen in my office, I would’ve had great difficulty convincing my colleagues I was innocent. Plus, I still believed she could be the key to a faster conversion to Judaism, which meant that, in a way—and I hated to admit it—I needed her alive.

  When I’d been certain no one would find her until I could come back, I returned to Amani and
called Meo.

  “Is this Ian or his fiancée?” he answered, amusement in his voice.

  “Oh, shut up. What did you tell her?”

  “I said I was your brother, but she knows you pretty well. Didn’t believe a word.” He laughed. “Then she started asking questions about the device she was holding and about me, obviously.”

  “W—what did you say?”

  “Oh, nothing much. Just that we were lovers and this was our only means of communication to keep our relationship a secret.”

  At once, my intestines seemed to boil from inside, sending waves of hot blood into my cheeks. Why had he said that? Speechless, I sat down, taking deep, shaky breath.

  Say something, Ian. Anything.

  “Ha!” I exclaimed, attempting to laugh normally. “And what d—did she—how—how did she respond?”

  Worst attempt. Ever.

  Why was it affecting me so much? I had to get a grip on myself, for goodness’ sake.

  “She said it wasn’t possible since you two were engaged. But she was quite dubious, hesitant—didn’t believe her own excuse.” He didn’t ask me if it were true, if we really were engaged. Instead he went on and said, “So, Ian. What did you do to her? I know you get upset easily. Did you kill her?”

  “I couldn’t. I have to behave if I want the Protectors to trust me. She’s locked up at the top of a building in Red.”

  Meo burst out laughing. “You always surprise me, Ian. Well, I’ll leave you to your problems…”

  “I didn’t call you about Amanda. We—we might have found Amya’s location.”

  Meo’s tone changed radically from easeful to tense and serious. “Where is she?”

  “I believe she is in Sherbrooke, Canada. The call was made from a college called Bishop’s.”

  “Leave it to me; we’ll take care of her.”

  “What do I tell my people? I can’t make them track someone and then do nothing about it.”

  Meo made an impatient noise. “Be creative, Ian. I have to inform my boss. I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

  And just like that, he hung up. No “thank you.” No “good job.” Nothing at all. Insulted, I kicked my desk and ended up hurting myself even more in the process. Who was I kidding? It was the way Meo worked. One second he was making jokes and the next he was acting like he didn’t care about me at all. Or maybe he simply didn’t… no. That option was out of question. He did. I’d seen it in his eyes in England, when he had spoken to my ear… so close.

  My cell phone rang, making me jump. For a second, I wished it were him. But he would never call on my personal line.

  “Ian,” I snapped.

  “Sir,” a man’s voice spoke. “We might have found information on Miss Priam’s location.”

  I exhaled sharply. “I already know that. Henry told me earlier.”

  It was getting late; all I wanted was to get some dinner, find an office and write a short, falsified report for my father, and sleep the rest of the day off.

  “Er… It isn’t possible, sir. We just received words from someone who says they saw her.”

  “Saw her? Who saw her? She’s not even in the States.”

  “How did you know that? Sir, she was located outside the University of—”

  “Bishop’s, I know. Henry already told me.” Patience wasn’t my strong suit, and if he kept going on that path, he was going to find out.

  “Bishop’s? No. Not at all. I don’t even know where—that’s not important. We don’t have much time. If the Rascals know we found her, they might try to make a move…”

  “The Rascals?” I started, but then it clicked. He wasn’t talking about Amya. This wasn’t one of Henry’s contacts. He was a Protector who’d been working on Delilah’s case on Michelle’s order. “Oh, hm, right!” I immediately corrected. No one at HQ except for Henry could know about Operation R. “You found Miss Delilah Priam, is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir. Who else?”

  “Well, I am currently working on many cases, if you must know, so you will forgive me if I don’t follow. And I’m very tired. You should have said who you were talking about sooner.”

  “I mentioned Miss Priam quite early in the conversation if I recall correctly…”

  “Are you really arguing with me? This is a waste of time. Just send a team to retrieve her. What are you waiting for?”

  Whoever was speaking hesitated. “I was waiting for your instructions, sir. Whom should I send? And what about the Rascals? It would not be wise to send a team until we know how to kill them…”

  I rolled my eyes though he couldn’t see me. “Tell the Protectors to shoot them in the head. It should hold them back for a while. Before you send anyone, though, please make sure it really was Miss Priam. It would be a waste of energy and capital to send a team on a mistake. Let me know when the information is solid and then we’ll consider planning a rescue mission.”

  “Right. I should receive more data from England soon.”

  “England? Where exactly in England?”

  “Oxford, sir. The girl was spotted just outside Exeter College.”

  I made a pensive noise. “Is that so? Thank you, and I will be waiting for your call,” I said before I hung up.

  The idea of calling Meo was quite an unpleasant one. I was still offended and angry at him for being so inconsiderate. But I had no choice. The Rascals would be ambushed shortly and they would probably kill me if they knew I had orchestrated the attack without their knowledge.

  The call was short, however, and Meo assured me there was no problem because they were already leaving for Canada. He mentioned having found the person they were looking for in Oxford, but did not elaborate. I made sure I was the one who hung up first this time and, satisfied with myself, I headed to the cafeteria, where I wrote down a few words explaining to my father what I had done these last thirty-six hours or so. I also called Henry and told him to wait before sending a team to retrieve Xander. And finally, I ate my dinner, thinking of lending Michelle’s office to my father until her return.

  When everything was settled, my watch indicated seven o’clock. Meo and the other Rascals would be in Canada around one in the morning and, judging by their eagerness to catch Amya, they would probably get to her right away. That gave me a good six hours to eat, take a shower, and sleep.

  Oh, and I did have to find a solution about Amanda too…

  Chapter XXI

  Amya Priam

  With a bag over my head, a bandana stuck in my mouth, and my wrists tied behind my back, I was forced out of Madame M.’s house. I wanted to scream for Samera, but she was already asleep and Xander, Karl, and Madame M. were probably still in the soundproof basement, practicing martial arts.

  Still, I had to try something…

  But just before I could make any sound whatsoever, I heard someone whisper, “Come with us without a fight or there will be consequences.”

  My thoughts immediately went to Delilah. What would they do to her? And most importantly, what had they already done to her?

  So I followed without a scream or a fight. Slowly, I was forced down a long street, which I assumed was College Street. It was freezing cold as I wore neither shoes nor coat, only Madame M.’s spare pajamas. Where were we going like that? Then, at some point, we turned left and walked through—was it a field? No—a railroad. My feet stumbled on the wooden tracks and were it not for the hands around my elbows, restraining me, I would have fallen face down on the ground.

  “Careful there,” the same voice whispered.

  A few feet ahead, I could hear a second person walking slowly and carefully as if blindfolded too, but, unlike me, she kept making muffled screams through her bandana.

  Delilah.

  The second we were finally put side by side, I twisted my body to reach her tied hands with mine. If she knew I was there with her, maybe she would calm down. But as soon as I touched her skin, she bolted away and I heard a thud sound as if she’d fallen sideways on
the train rail.

  I let a scream escape my mouth, followed by her own, which was much louder and sounded like, “Whoever you are, my father will sue you!”

  At that exact moment, someone removed the bag over my head and, as my eyes adjusted to the glow protruding from six flashlights, I recognized Sine, Patrick, Mary, Adam, Kristin, and Emily, all staring at me with wicked smiles. Then, to my right, Vivian stood up, the bag over her head removed, showing her outraged features. Patrick hurried behind me and untied my hands and bandana, while Adam did the same to Vivian.

  Relief washed over me, as though I’d just been doused with a cold bucket of water over my head.

  “This is not funny!” Vivian snapped. “How dare you wake me in the middle of the night?” she continued, touching her untidy ombré-red hair set in a bun on top of her head. Then her fingers reached her face, which, without so much makeup, was very pretty. She blushed as she avoided glancing in Patrick’s direction. “You could have at least given me a heads up,” she added. “How did you even get in my dorm without a key?”

  “A friend of mine lives there too,” Patrick said. “I asked him to leave the front door open tonight. And apparently you don’t lock your room.”

  Vivian’s blush shined brighter.

  “How did you even know where I was staying?” I then inquired in a much lighter tone than my co-captive.

  Patrick grinned. “That took a bit more preparation. I asked Hibiscus to notify Adam when you left her office this evening. He then followed you to the red house… And don’t worry, we left a note on the couch,” he added, “so that no one will think you’ve been kidnapped.”

  He had no idea how likely that would be.

  “Thanks,” I said through my clattering teeth.

  “All right! Now that we’re all here, we shall begin!”

  “And what exactly are we doing?” I asked.

  Fear for my sister had vanished, but I was still wondering why Patrick had gone to such lengths to get us all out here in the middle of the night.