I’ve entered homes that had been taken over by ghouls. I’ve walked into Apraxis wasp hives. And I don’t think I had ever taken a single harder step in my life. I stepped inside and turned toward where I’d seen the surgical beds when we were in the trailer before.
Shelby was lying there with a blanket pulled up to her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, but her face wasn’t covered. I took a slow step toward her. “Is . . . is she . . . ?”
“She lost a great deal of blood,” said Frank. “I’ve sent a car to get some supplies from the hospital. She’s stable for now. He missed her major organs. She was, if you can believe it in a situation like this, lucky.”
“Lucky,” I echoed, as I walked to her bedside. Her cheek was warm beneath my fingers. She didn’t open her eyes. I sat down in the chair next to where she lay, leaning forward to rest my forehead against the edge of the bed. I would wait there for the next emergency.
I fell asleep in that position. The emergency never came.
Epilogue
“Good for you. Now survive the next one.”
—Thomas Price
The reptile house of Ohio’s West Columbus Zoo, a private back room where no one reasonable goes
Six weeks later
THE BASILISKS WERE AWAKE, circling each other in their carefully darkened enclosure with their wings outstretched and their tails lashing in what was either a mating dance or a precursor to bloody combat. I kept my eyes glued to the glass, waiting for the moment where one of them would make a move.
The male stopped circling, picked up a piece of the hard rocky shell that had protected him while he hibernated, and placed it gently at the female’s feet. She hissed. He offered her another bit of rocky shell. She lashed at him with her tail. He offered her a third fragment. She accepted it, striking him with her tail again—but this time it was less of an attack, and more of a caress. Beginning to croon, she turned and walked away into the high grass. He followed, head bobbing in what could only be interpreted as a victory dance.
“You go on with your bad self,” I murmured, smiling.
“Who’s going where, then?”
I turned, my smile widening at the sight of Shelby Tanner standing behind me in the dimly-lit room. She was the second person to have the code—not for any scientific reason. Just because I wanted her to. Crow was cradled in her arms, his tail swishing lazily back and forth. He’d been spending as much time with her as he could since we came home from the gorgon community. He loved having a second human to cuddle with, especially one who was endlessly willing to give him the petting and adoration he deserved. I didn’t begrudge him the attention. He’d earned it when he saved us both.
“I think my basilisks are finally mating.” I gestured toward the enclosure. “It’s not much to look at right now, but in a few months, we’ll have chicks.”
“Oh, yay, more horrible things to turn me into stone,” said Shelby. But she was smiling, and she kept smiling as she walked over to kiss me on the cheek. “Ready for lunch?”
“In a minute,” I said. “And basilisk chicks are surprisingly adorable. They have blue feathers.”
Shelby had been stable but very weak for the first few days after Lloyd attacked her. She hadn’t been strong enough to come home, and her injuries would have been hard to explain to the human hospital, unless I wanted to be arrested for assault. Luckily, Frank had done a more than competent job. He was a very talented surgeon. She couldn’t have been in better hands. Thank God.
She walked over to peer into the enclosure, where only the rustling of bushes betrayed the location of my basilisks. “Blue, you say. All right. What happens after the chicks come?”
“We raise them to maturity and then send them off to the people who need them. Walter has agreed to take these two on a long-term basis, and trade their offspring for whatever the fringe requires.” It was a tidy way for them to make a little money without betraying their ideals. Much. “Are you still coming to dinner tonight?”
“What, like I’d miss the opportunity for your cousin to school me at Scrabble again?” Shelby laughed. “I’ll be there at six, as planned.”
“Oh, good.”
Sarah wasn’t exactly “schooling” anyone at Scrabble, since half the words she used were made up, but she had fun, and she was getting better at keeping up with the conversation. Really, she was getting better at everything. She could reliably tell me from Shelby, which was a real accomplishment, considering how far gone she’d been when I’d first come to live with my grandparents. I was actually starting to think she might get back to her own personal definition of normal.
Shelby wrinkled her nose at the rustling bushes. “This is getting dull,” she said. “Anything else going on around here?”
“Just the usual,” I said, plucking Crow from her arms and dropping him on the floor. “It’s been blissfully dull all day.”
“Oh, really?” Shelby took her cue, sliding her arms around my shoulders as Crow croaked in aggravation. “Sounds like you need a little excitement.”
“Honestly, you’re about all the excitement I can handle right now.”
I’m a scientist. Excitement is supposed to be something that happens mostly to other people, and I’d been right at the center of way more than I wanted over the past few months.
Hannah had been devastated by Lloyd’s death, even if she wasn’t surprised. She’d been expecting this for a long time, and it had just been a question of when and how it would happen. I was pretty sure Shelby and I were no longer welcome at the gorgon community. I didn’t mind. We didn’t belong there, and any debts between us were paid.
Dee had kept her job at the zoo, thankfully. Shelby had been bedridden for several weeks after I brought her home, and I wouldn’t have been able to take the time off to care for her if Dee hadn’t been at the reptile house, keeping things running smoothly. I was glad she’d decided to stay. I would have missed her.
Lloyd’s cockatrice was still out there somewhere. It hadn’t shown up in any urban areas, and we were all assuming Lloyd had taken it back to the woods with him when he abducted Shelby. A cockatrice loose in the woods near the gorgon community was nowhere near the threat that a cockatrice loose near humans had been. As long as we didn’t see any further signs of it, we were willing to live and let live.
Shelby leaned forward and kissed me slowly. I slid my arms around her waist, shutting out Crow’s angry squawks as I focused on the business at hand. When she finally pulled away, I was a lot less interested in basilisks, and a lot more interested in her.
“Lunch?” she asked again.
“As long as it’s not in the tiger garden, that sounds good to me,” I said, before kissing her again.
I had my work; I had my family; I had my friends; and I had Shelby, who was a distraction from everything else, but only in the best of ways. Things were changing. I was changing with them. That was all right, in the balance of things; after all, people have paid a lot more to come away with a lot less. As I tightened my arms around Shelby’s waist and sank into another kiss, I couldn’t help thinking I was a very lucky man. I was a very lucky man indeed.
Price Family Field Guide to the Cryptids of North America Updated and Expanded Edition
Aeslin mice (Apodemus sapiens). Sapient, rodentlike cryptids which present as near-identical to noncryptid field mice. Aeslin mice crave religion, and will attach themselves to “divine figures” selected virtually at random when a new colony is created. They possess perfect recall; each colony maintains a detailed oral history going back to its inception. Origins unknown.
Basilisk (Procompsognathus basilisk). Venomous, feathered saurians approximately the size of a large chicken. This would be bad enough, but thanks to a quirk of evolution, the gaze of a basilisk causes petrification, turning living flesh to stone. Basilisks are not native to North America, but were imported as game animals. By idiots.
Bogeyman (Vestiarium sapiens). The thing in your closet is probably a very pleasant individual
who simply has issues with direct sunlight. Probably. Bogeymen are close relatives of the human race; they just happen to be almost purely nocturnal, with excellent night vision, and a fondness for enclosed spaces. They rarely grab the ankles of small children, unless it’s funny.
Coatl (Coatl arbore). The coatl is a classic example of the plumed or feathered serpent. They are morphologically similar to boa constrictors (with feathers), but are likely evolutionarily derived from large monitor lizards. There are more than twenty-seven separate subspecies of coatl known, and many more have probably gone extinct, victims of urban expansion and people having an atavistic aversion to the idea of flying snakes.
Church Griffin (Gryps vegrandis corax). A subspecies of lesser griffin, these small, predatory creatures resemble a cross between a raven and a Maine Coon cat. They are highly intelligent, which makes them good, if troublesome, companions. They enjoy the company of humans, if only because humans are so much fun to mess with.
Cockatrice (Procompsognathus cockatrice). Venomous, largely featherless saurians approximately the size of a large chicken. This would be bad enough, but thanks to a quirk of evolution, the gaze of a cockatrice causes petrification, turning living flesh to stone. Cockatrice are not native to North America, but were imported as game animals. Again, by idiots.
Dragon (Draconem sapiens). Dragons are essentially winged, fire-breathing dinosaurs the size of Greyhound buses. At least, the males are. The females—colloquially known as “dragon princesses”—are attractive humanoids who can blend seamlessly in a crowd of supermodels. Capable of parthenogenic reproduction, the females outnumber the males twenty to one, and can sustain their population for centuries without outside help. All dragons, male and female, require gold to live, and collect it constantly.
Ghoul (Herophilus sapiens). The ghoul is an obligate carnivore, incapable of digesting any but the simplest vegetable solids, and prefers humans because of their wide selection of dietary nutrients. Most ghouls are carrion eaters. Ghouls can be easily identified by their teeth, which will be shed and replaced repeatedly over the course of a lifetime.
Gorgon, greater (Gorgos medusa). One of three known subspecies of gorgon, the greater gorgon is believed to be the source of many classic gorgon myths. They are capable of controlled gaze-based petrifaction, and mature individuals can actually look a human in the eyes without turning them to stone. They are capable of transforming their lower bodies from humanoid to serpentine. This is very unnerving. Avoid when possible.
Gorgon, lesser (Gorgos euryale). The lesser gorgon’s gaze causes short-term paralysis followed by death in anything under five pounds. The bite of the snakes atop their heads will cause paralysis followed by death in anything smaller than an elephant if not treated with the appropriate antivenin. Lesser gorgons tend to be very polite, especially to people who like snakes.
Gorgon, Pliny’s (Gorgos stheno). The Pliny’s gorgon is capable of gaze-based petrifaction only when both their human and serpent eyes are directed toward the same target. They are the most sexually dimorphic of the known gorgons, with the males being as much as four feet taller than the females. They are venomous, as are the snakes atop their heads, and their bites contain a strong petrifying agent. Do not vex.
Johrlac (Johrlac psychidolos). Colloquially known as “cuckoos,” the Johrlac are telepathic hunters. They appear human, but are internally very different, being cold-blooded and possessing a decentralized circulatory system. This quirk of biology means they can be shot repeatedly in the chest without being killed. Extremely dangerous. All Johrlac are interested in mathematics, sometimes to the point of obsession. Origins unknown; possibly insect in nature.
Lamia (Python lamia). Semi-hominid cryptids with the upper bodies of humans and the lower bodies of snakes. Lamia are members of order synapsedia, the mammal-like reptiles, and are considered responsible for many of the “great snake” sightings of legend. The sightings not attributed to actual great snakes, that is.
Lindworm (Lindorm lindorm). These massive relatives of the skink have been found in Europe, Africa, and North America, which makes them extremely well-distributed armored killing machines. They tend to pair off at maturity, and while adult lindworms will have very little territorial overlap, they are constantly aware of the location of their mate and any juvenile offspring still being tolerated in the area. Lindworms are very difficult to kill, more’s the pity.
Oread (Nymphae silica). Humanoid cryptids with the approximate skin density of granite. Their actual biological composition is unknown, as no one has ever been able to successfully dissect one. Oreads are extremely strong, and can be dangerous when angered. They seem to have evolved independently across the globe; their common name is from the Greek.
Tooth fairy (Pyske dentin). Tooth fairies are small—no taller than the length of a tall man’s hand—and possess dual-lobed wings. Its dietary habits are unpleasant, and best left undiscussed. Do not leave unsupervised near children.
Wadjet (Naja wadjet). Once worshiped as gods, the male wadjet resembles an enormous cobra, capable of reaching seventeen feet in length when fully mature, while the female wadjet resembles an attractive human female. Wadjet pair-bond young, and must spend extended amounts of time together before puberty in order to become immune to one another’s venom and be able to successfully mate as adults.
Waheela (Waheela sapiens). Therianthrope shapeshifters from the upper portion of North America, the waheela are a solitary race, usually claiming large swaths of territory and defending it to the death from others of their species. Waheela mating season is best described with the term “bloodbath.” Waheela transform into something that looks like a dire bear on steroids. They’re usually not hostile, but it’s best not to push it.
PLAYLIST:
Everything’s better with music! Here are some songs to rock you through Alex’s trials.
“Boats and Birds” . . . . . . . . . . . Gregory and the Hawk
“Splatter Splatter” . . . . . . . . . . . OK Go
“Lovers in a Dangerous Time” . . . . . . . . . . . Barenaked Ladies
“The Frog Prince” . . . . . . . . . . . Keane
“Viva la Vida” . . . . . . . . . . . Coldplay
“I Am a Scientist” . . . . . . . . . . . The Dandy Warhols
“Walk Away From the Sun” . . . . . . . . . . . Seether
“One Normal Night” . . . . . . . . . . . Company (The Addams Family)
“Narrow Your Eyes” . . . . . . . . . . . They Might Be Giants
“To the Ghosts Who . . . . . . . . . . . Low Anthem
Write History Books”
“Strange Conversation” . . . . . . . . . . . Kris Delmhorst
“Headlights On Dark Roads” . . . . . . . . . . . Snow Patrol
“The End” . . . . . . . . . . . John Wesley Harding
“Don’t Set Foot Over . . . . . . . . . . . Thea Gilmore
the Railway Track”
“You Are a Tourist” . . . . . . . . . . . Death Cab for Cutie
“Dragging the River” . . . . . . . . . . . Idgy Vaughn
“The Space Between” . . . . . . . . . . . Ally Rhodes
“Don’t Say Okay” . . . . . . . . . . . Mary Black
“Fire” . . . . . . . . . . . Delta Rae
“Crocodile Man” . . . . . . . . . . . Dave and Tracy
“Blood Red Sky” . . . . . . . . . . . Seth Lakeman
“Killer of Dragons” . . . . . . . . . . . The High Dials
“Benson Hedges” . . . . . . . . . . . fun.
“Part II: Tonight’s the Night” . . . . . . . . . . . Ludo
“Scorned” . . . . . . . . . . . Hypnogaja
“Uncharted” . . . . . . . . . . . Sara Bareilles
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS:
So here we are again, as Midnight Blue-Light Special takes the floor, and Verity takes a well-earned break: the next two books will focus on her brother, Alex, as he deals with some problems of his own. Thank you all so much for reading, and for supporting
this series so enthusiastically. Cheese and cake for everyone!
Betsy Tinney, to whom this book is dedicated, remains my ballroom pixie godmother, explaining all the nuances of dance culture. Phil Ames is still to blame for a surprising amount of this whole mess, while my webmaster, Chris Mangum, continues to tolerate my introducing cryptids into every single conversation we have.
As always, the machete squad provided proofreading and editorial services, doing everything in their power to make this book as good as it could possibly be. Kory Bing illustrated my fantastic Field Guide to the Cryptids of North America, which you can visit at my website—I want a fricken of my very own. Tara O’Shea continued to design amazing wallpapers, icons, and internal dingbats for these books, helping to create a large, unified world. I couldn’t be more thrilled.
My agent, Diana Fox, remains my personal superhero and one of my favorite human beings. My editor at DAW, Sheila Gilbert, looked at my first draft, saw what needed fixing, and made everything better. Huge thanks to everyone at DAW, and to my cover artist, Aly Fell, who continues to bring these people to life in an amazing new way.
Thanks to my Disney World girls—Amy, Brooke, Patty, Vixy, Rachel, and of course, Mom—and to Barfleet, for service above and beyond the call of duty. Thanks to Borderlands Books, for tolerating my large, often chaotic book events. And of course, thank you. I couldn’t write these books without you.
Any errors in this book are my own. The errors that aren’t here are the ones that all these people helped me fix. Thank you.
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