“Then take the street that leads to the boardwalk and come back that way. And if you’re ever alone, don’t ever, no matter what happens, ever go down any unlit streets. Dim is okay, just not unlit. There are souls a lot worse off than me and you don’t want to see the worst of ’em. The dying dead. More important, you don’t want them to see you.”
“Okay,” she said. Zoe wanted to ask more about the dying dead but knew it wasn’t the right time.
“I’m going to go wait over there.” Valentine nodded toward an alcove at the side of a nearby apartment building. “Take as long as you need.”
“Thanks.” Zoe leaned forward and quickly pecked him on the cheek. He stiffened a little, but didn’t pull away. She took that as a good sign, then hurried into the building.
There was an elevator in the lobby, but when she looked closer she saw it was just an open elevator shaft. Someone had moved a bed and chair into the opening and it looked like they’d been living there. She found stairs around the corner and climbed to the fifth floor. At first, the building seemed utterly silent, but as she climbed, she began to hear small sounds of habitation. Footsteps. A drawer opening and closing. The tinkle of a glass on a table.
Zoe’s heart raced as she stepped onto the fifth-floor landing. Her ankle hurt but she couldn’t help herself, and ran all the way down the hall to her father’s door. She knocked but didn’t hear anything from inside. She knocked again. “Dad?” she whispered to the door. No response. She quietly turned the knob and the door opened.
The inside of her father’s room was so spare it was almost empty. Like a prison cell, thought Zoe. While Valentine’s place was stuffed to the rafters with goodies he’d plucked from the city’s overflow, her father’s room held a bed, a table, and a dresser with a vase of plastic roses on top. There was a discolored spot on one wall where a mirror or a picture might have once hung.
A straight-backed wooden chair had been dragged from the table and set before the room’s one window. Every surface in the room seemed to be covered in dust, except for the windowsill in front of the chair. That area was clean. He leans on the sill right here, she thought. He sits here all day and night. This is his real life in Iphigene. Her breath caught in her throat and the stab of grief and loss made her fight back tears. Zoe reached for the rubber band on her wrist but it was gone.
She went back downstairs and found Valentine in the alcove. She told him what she’d found in the room. “He wasn’t there,” she finished.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “There’s another place where he spends some of his nights. Maybe we’ll find him there.”
They took the shortcut to the beach. The route was much quicker, and Zoe could see the reflection of the moon in the sea after just a few minutes of walking.
“Remember, walk slow,” Valentine warned her as they crossed the street to the boardwalk and climbed down to the beach.
The wet sand was heavy on Zoe’s sneakers, but it sparkled like snow under the moon. They were headed for the old amusement park where she’d spent the happy afternoon with her father. Zoe knew that she was getting used to Iphigene because it wasn’t at all surprising to her to see that the park was a wreck, a heap of collapsed timbers and rides that had slipped off their foundations and lay lopsided in the sand. She had to admit, however, that the place still held a kind of sad beauty, like a winter carnival frozen in a blizzard.
People were wandering down onto the beach behind them. Zoe turned in terror and was ready to run from the mob. But Valentine grabbed her shoulders and held her where she was, pointing to the street.
“Look,” he said.
Several buses arrived simultaneously and what looked like a hundred people were suddenly milling around with the dazed look of all the new arrivals. Some people headed to the restaurant or the side streets, but more poured down onto the beach, as if being near the water would wake them from a bad dream. At first they walked. Then they ran, a solid wall of bodies. Zoe was knocked onto her knees and had to scramble to her feet to keep from getting trampled. The crowd carried her along with them, like a tidal wave of grasping hands and running feet. Finally, she worked her way to the side and shouldered her way free of the crowd. The rag around her ankle was loose. She fell and had to crawl onto the tilting turntable of the carousel.
Limping behind the carousel animals, she watched the last of the mob rush down to the sea. She couldn’t see Valentine anywhere. The idea of going back into the crowd was too much. She decided to stay where she was until the beach cleared out. Then she’d sneak out and go back to Valentine’s house.
Someone grunted nearby in the dark. Zoe whirled around and saw a man curled up asleep under the figure of a golden sea serpent. He had on the same shapeless overcoat that almost everyone seemed to wear in Iphigene, and his head was resting on a couple of the stuffed-animal toys that she’d seen scattered all around the abandoned rides. He grunted again and rolled over, facing her.
“Dad?” said Zoe, her voice hoarse from the sand she’d swallowed when she fell.
The sleeping man opened his eyes. They were bloodshot and wet. He was unshaven and his hair was wild, as if he hadn’t brushed it in weeks. Slowly, drunkenly, the man pushed himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, pushing it out of his face.
“Dad?” said Zoe, though she was certain who he was this time.
The man turned and looked at her, his red eyes wide and full of fear. He tried to crawl away from her.
“No, no,” he said. “I’m dreaming.”
Zoe crawled after him and grabbed his leg. “Dad, it’s me!” she yelled, and he froze on the spot. His shoulders sagged and he lay facedown where he was. For a moment neither of them moved, then her father sat up. When he looked at her this time, it wasn’t fear she saw in his eyes: it was anger.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he yelled. “Didn’t I tell you not to ever come back?”
Zoe crawled closer to him. “I had to. I did something bad back at home and I thought you needed help.”
“There’s nothing you can do back in the world that will hurt me here.”
“But Emmett had these records and one of them had your soul or something on it . . .”
“Yeah, those.” Her father drew up his legs and leaned back against a bench covered with fading images of mermaids. “We all have those, honey. Emmett makes them. Supposedly, if he breaks yours, you’ll disappear, but he’s such a liar, who knows?”
“I was trying to get yours. I tried to trick him. But I think he tricked me.”
“He’s good at that. You’ve got to get out of here as soon as you can. If Hecate finds out about you, well, I don’t want to think about it.”
“I know. Val . . . a friend is taking care of me. But I don’t know how I can leave. Do you?”
“No. But there has to be a way. Emmett comes and goes from here to the world all the time.”
“Dad, it’s good to see you.” She moved over and leaned on the bench next to him. After a moment he put his arm around her shoulder.
“You, too. I’m so goddamn angry right now, but it’s still good to see you.”
“Why do you look like this, Dad? Are you sick?”
“Kind of. But it doesn’t have anything to do with what you did back home.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“I don’t know if I believe you. Emmett took your record.”
“Yeah, but not because of what you did,” he said. “He took the record because of what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“It’s not important. All that matters is you getting out of here.” Zoe’s father took her face in his hand and looked hard into her eyes. “You can’t ever come back here. I mean it. If you do, I won’t see you. I won’t talk to you. I won’t acknowledge you. Do you understand me?”
“Who’s this friend of yours?” he asked.
“Someone I used to know back home.”
“Do you trust him?”
“Yes.”
“Then get to him and find a way out of Iphigene. Nothing else matters.”
“You still haven’t told me why you look like this. Why isn’t the city how I remember?”
Her father started to answer, but was cut off by a strange howl in the distance. It reminded her of a foghorn, but this sound was rougher, darker, more like the deep wail of some wounded animal.
“Oh no,” said Zoe’s father.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. I have to go.” He pulled himself to his feet. Standing, he looked even weaker than he’d been before. It took a few seconds for him to steady himself on his feet. Then he started off across the beach. Other people were walking in the same direction, a few other newcomers, but mostly people Zoe had seen on the streets by the newsstand and bar. Old-timers, she thought. She ran after her father.
“What’s wrong, Dad? What was that sound?”
“Go to your friend and find a way out. I can’t help you.” Zoe grabbed him and his hand closed on her arm so hard it brought tears to her eyes. “Get away from me and stay away! I don’t ever want to see you here again!” He pushed her hard enough that she fell back onto the sand.
Zoe lay there and watched as her father joined a long line of people walking into the dark heart of the city, following the wail that filled the sky.
Nine
Zoe couldn’t stop her father. He was in a trance or under a spell or something, out of both her control and his. But she had to do something.
She sprinted down the beach away from the amusement park, zigzagging between the lost newcomers, moving in a wide circle to get a look at as many faces as she could. Then she saw Valentine, standing on the steps that led down to the beach, waving to her.
When she reached him, she tripped on the steps, but he grabbed her before she fell. “There’s something wrong with Dad. He’s hypnotized or something.”
“Where is he?” asked Valentine.
Zoe pointed to the mob of souls trudging into the city. “He’s with them. He changed when the sound started.”
Valentine grabbed her and they ran after their father. “We can’t let him get too far!” he shouted.
Zoe went as fast as she could, ignoring the pain in her ankle. Valentine, on his unsteady metal legs, couldn’t keep up. Anger and frustration surged up in her. Didn’t anything work here? Wasn’t there anything she could rely on? She grabbed Valentine, putting his arm around her shoulders while she slid her arm around his waist. Together they ran as fast as they could, but when they turned into the street where the mob had wandered, no one was there. The wailing sound wound down, quickly dropping in pitch until it was gone. After all that noise, the silence that followed was deep and frightening.
“I think I know where they’re headed,” Valentine said. “This way.” He loped away on his long legs and Zoe followed.
“Where are they going?” She was feeling tinges of panic now, more than she had since coming to Iphigene. “What’s happening?”
Valentine pointed down a side street and they turned. “It’s complicated.” Zoe had the feeling that he didn’t want to answer the question, but it wasn’t like yesterday when she’d badgered him with a thousand queries all at once. She got the feeling that something had frightened him, something that he didn’t want to talk about, ever.
“Tell me,” Zoe said, her voice rising.
“Quiet. There are dogs at the corner.” They slowed their pace as they passed the black beasts. Having to walk so slowly killed Zoe. She wanted to sprint away, but Valentine kept a firm grip on her until the dogs were well behind them.
“Tell me,” she whispered.
“It’s Hecate.” Valentine looked away from her and his voice dropped so low she could barely hear him. “Her children are hungry.”
Zoe took a quick step in front of Valentine. “What does that mean?” but Valentine wouldn’t meet her eyes and stepped around her.
“You should go back to my house,” he said. “If it’s what I think, there’s nothing you can do.”
Zoe grabbed his coat and held him. “Valentine! Tell me!” she shouted. When he didn’t answer, she grabbed her brother and shook him.
When he looked at her, his eyes were both sad and bright with anger. “Don’t you know by now? You’ve seen how we are here. Ripped apart and thrown away like the garbage in the streets. Hecate’s children need food and there’s nothing to eat in Iphigene but us.”
From far away, Zoe could just hear the sound of the buses pulling away after dropping off their last load of new souls. A light breeze blew drops of cold water down from the damp roofs onto her face. Finally, Valentine’s eyes shifted to meet hers. “I lied to you earlier when I said I didn’t know what Iphigene meant. It means ‘sacrifice.’ ”
Zoe stared at him, her mind racing. “Is that what happened to you?”
Valentine looked around before answering. “It happens to everyone. You’re here long enough, you end up with debts. Some mistake you made. A favor someone did you. But it’s never just a payment the city wants from you. It’s a sacrifice.” He smiled, but it was cold. “And you’re it.”
Zoe shook her head as if movement might force what she was hearing into a shape that made sense. “I’ve seen Father’s room. He doesn’t have anything. He sleeps on the beach. What could he possibly owe anyone?”
Valentine’s expression went dark. “We need to keep moving,” he said, and started walking.
“What aren’t you telling me, Valentine?” Zoe called. “Does it have something to do with me?”
He spun around, his hands balled into fists. “Shut up right now. This won’t help anyone.”
He started away again, but Zoe grabbed him. He kept walking, pulling her off balance. Zoe ran up behind him and punched his shoulder. He turned on her and grabbed both of her hands in a powerful grip. “You fucking need to be quiet.”
“Valentine, please tell me what’s happening. What debt . . . ?” she pleaded, her voice trailing off.
He took a breath and released her. Taking a step back, he pulled his coat tight around his body. “I think you know.”
“For me,” said Zoe flatly.
Valentine looked down and nodded.
“It was that day we spent together, when the city seemed so beautiful. Hecate made that for him.”
Valentine shrugged. “What’s important is that he did what he thought was right. Trust me, he doesn’t regret it.”
“I do,” she said. “I was only trying to help, but I made things worse.”
Valentine came to Zoe and put his stiff arms around her. “Father did what he did to save you from this.” Zoe’s head spun. “We should go back to my house. There’s nothing we can do here.”
“No,” said Zoe firmly. “Take me to him. If he’s sacrificing himself for me, I want to be there with him.”
“We’re almost there,” said Valentine, pointing. “He’ll be in one of the buildings around that corner.”
“Let’s go.”
“I can’t,” he said. Zoe heard fear in his voice. When she looked, there were tears in his eyes. “I thought I could go there, but I can’t. I’m afraid.” He stepped back, holding out his corroded metal arms. “There’s so little of me left.”
She went to him and took his hand. “It’s all right. I can go on my own from here.”
“You should come back with me, where it’s safe.”
“I can’t.” She kissed his cheek. It was wet with tears and sweat.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I love you,” said Zo
e. Turning, she sprinted down the street and around the corner.
Zoe didn’t know what she’d expected to find, but it sure wasn’t this. Where the rest of the city was alive with crawling, growing buildings, this neighborhood looked like nothing had changed in a long time. The buildings were as twisted as the others, but they didn’t move. They were grimy and stationary. On a street where sacrifices had taken place for a thousand years or more, she expected bonfires, a church, maybe some kind of mysterious icons. All she found was a street of dusty, dead storefronts, like a small town on an old black-and-white TV show.
Zoe walked along the white line in the middle of the deserted street, peering into the empty stores without getting too close. She threw her hand up in front of her eyes, going blind for a second as all the lights along the street blinked on at once. When she could see again she ran from shop to shop, searching for her father in every window.
At the end of the street in a place with THE HALF MOON CAFÉ painted in cursive across the window, Zoe saw her father. He was sitting by himself at a table near the door. He’d taken his coat off and tossed it in a heap on the chair next to him. As she watched, he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, too, tossing it onto the chair with his coat. Zoe saw other people in the café, men, women, and children, doing the same thing. All had the same glassy, resigned look in their eyes, and moved in slow motion, like sleepwalkers.
Zoe pushed on the café’s door. It squeaked an inch forward and stuck. She pushed again, and when it didn’t move, she slammed her shoulder into it. A few people inside looked sleepily in her direction. The light changed suddenly, grew dark for a second as if a hand had passed over the moon. When the lights came on again they were different, full of darting, jittery shadows that crawled on the walls like insects dancing before a flame. Zoe looked up and saw a dark, swirling mass descend from the ceiling. She stared in wonder as the mass broke apart. She realized then that it wasn’t one giant thing she was looking at, but thousands of smaller things. They had the snarling pig faces and black membranous wings of vampire bats, but their bodies slithered through the air like snakes. Zoe slammed her shoulder into the café door and it burst open.
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