Betrayal (9 page)

We watched in chastened silence while Natalie summoned ghosts from the harbor, a gnarled old sea dog, then a woman with feathered seventies hair. Then it was my turn. I summoned a zitty teenager, and Lukas and I practiced compelling all three of them—though I insisted on asking permission first. Simon said we could use them to fight wraiths. I wasn't sure how I felt about using innocent ghosts against wraiths, especially as they weren't as strong or as flesh-hungry as wraiths, but Simon didn't have any time for my second thoughts.

He barked at me like a drill sergeant—this wasn't about me and my dainty concerns, he said, this was about stopping Neos before he rose to his full power in the realm of the living. Simon was brutal. Despite his bony body and horn-rimmed glasses, he drove us mercilessly.

By six o'clock, we were zonked, dining miserably on tofu steaks and grilled vegetables in the dining room. Part of the training regimen. And for the record, Limoges china and antique silver did not make this palatable.

During the next week, we fell into an exhausting routine. School, training, Buddhist monastery food, then school and training again. One evening, I woke in the middle of the night to a tingling in my fingers. I blinked away the scattered memories of a dream: the beautiful woman with short dark hair, wide eyes, and red lipstick, whispering in my ear. Lovely words that made me feel safe.

When the tingling in my hand turned to burning, I came fully awake, and saw a ghost at the edge of my bed, clutching my hand. Not the short-haired woman, but a long-haired Latina girl with a sad face.

Panicked, I pulled away, and the ghost put a finger to her mouth.
Shhh. Your brother sent me.

I stopped reaching for the power inside me.
Who are you?
I asked.

That doesn't matter.
She drifted a little higher.
Your brother, Max, compelled me to memorize a message for you.

That's not even possible, sending ghost messages.

Your brother found a way. There are new ways all the time.

Just like Simon had said, the old rules no longer applied.
How do I know this isn't some ploy of Neos's?

There is a hostile spirit near
, the ghost said.
But not me. I am compelled to deliver this message. Then you will not see me again.

What's wrong with texting?
I asked.
The phone, e-mail …

A wave of luminescence washed over her.
This is the message.

Wait
—
how did he communicate with you? How'd he find me? How do
I
find
him
?

But the ghost wasn't listening. Instead, she spoke in Max's voice:
I wasn't involved with the ghostkeeper killings, Em. I hope you believe that. Neither were Mom and Dad. We're trying to defeat Neos, and we don't trust the Knell. You need to find Neos's resting place, where his body is buried. Maybe then you can defeat him. Maybe.

Maybe? What am I supposed to do once I find the
—

The ghost message spoke right over me:
He's absorbing power from Mom's amulet, and once he masters that, he'll master possession. But we think he needs to perform some final rite. He's afraid to confront you, though, so he's trying to weaken you first. We think he summoned a
—

She stopped, shimmering in the darkness.

“A what?” I said aloud.

We think he summoned a
—

“C'mon! Summoned a
what
? Are you skipping? You're not a CD. And what do I do once I find his final resting place?”

—
think he summoned
— The ghost girl grabbed herself around the throat and started squeezing. —
summoned a
—

Stop! Stop doing that!

I compelled her to stop, but my powers felt weak and dim, and she kept squeezing until her face grew mottled, her eyes bulged in pain, but I couldn't save her.

A siren
, she gasped, and faded away.

I sat there in bed, my hand covering my mouth like some shocked Victorian lady, my heart pounding. After a while, I leaned back against the headboard and thought for a long time about Rachel and her warning about a siren. What could that mean? Could it be worse than a wraith? Impossible. And the poor ghost Max had sent—was she dead?

Then my stomach growled and I stopped thinking. I pulled on my wool sweater and some socks and padded downstairs into the kitchen, hoping for something other than a crust of millet bread.

I found Anatole putting the finishing touches on an ice cream sundae in a fluted bowl, with Celeste setting one place at the table and Nicholas watching me with a boyish grin. With a slight bow, Anatole handed me the bowl with a silver dessert spoon.

You are a god.
I was in heaven from the first spoonful. I bet he made the sauce himself.
How did you know I was coming?

Nicholas heard you wake. And how could you not be hungry after that shameful meal theez evening?

You don't have to do what he says, you know.

Celeste shrugged.
Iz our duty.

Lukas must be starving
, I said, savoring the vanilla ice cream.

Non
, Anatole said.
He was here not an hour ago, compelling me to make him a zandwich.

And me to run the shower for him afterward
, Celeste said.

He made me trot like a horse in circles around his room
, Nicholas grumbled.

He'll regret that
, I fumed.
He's gotten away with way too much.

The ghosts smiled in relief and we chatted for a while. I asked them if they knew what a siren was. Anatole had heard of the Greek myth, but Nicholas thought I was talking about the sound on a fire truck. Not at all helpful.

I finished my sundae, and Celeste sent Nicholas to stoke the fire in my room. As I nestled back under the covers, the fear and confusion of the night had mellowed into something warm. The ghosts were a surrogate family to me, always ready with a kind word and dessert. As bad as things got, I needed to remember all the good things, too. Like the fact that I was too busy to miss Bennett.

Okay, that wasn't a good thing. That was just a lie. If he were here, we could've eaten sundaes in the kitchen together. I thought about the little ice cream stand he'd promised to take me to. Memorial Day seemed awfully far away. I wondered what Bennett's favorite flavor was. I wanted to know everything about him, like if he always got rum raisin.

9

The next day at school, Lukas caught up with me in the hallway. “Do you know her?”

He nodded toward Sara, wandering aimlessly through the halls, looking like … well, like someone just killed her best friend. Sara normally appeared ready for the paparazzi, even in her uniform. Perfect hair, killer shoes, envy-worthy bag. Today her hair looked like something had nested in it. And, my God, were those sneakers on her feet?

“I did,” I said, still baffled about how I could make everything good between us.

“She looks sad,” he said.

“She was in love with Coby.”

“Maybe she just needs someone new to get him off her mind.” He glanced at her, appraisingly.

“Leave her alone,” I said, sharply. “And while we're on the subject …”

“What did I do?”

He tried to appear innocent, but failed, and I gave him an earful about treating the ghosts in the museum better.

“They're only ghosts,” he said.

Could he really be so dense? “No,” I said, “they're people, even if they are dead. And if I find out you've made Nicholas trot around like a horse again—”

He towered over me, a slight grin on his face. In my tirade, I'd forgotten how tall he was. “You'll what, Emma?”

The class bell rang, and I didn't have time to come up with a better threat than, “You don't want to find out.”

Then I marched away, before he could mock me.

I sprawled next to Natalie on the gym floor, waiting for Fencing to start.

“Have you seen Coby?” I asked. I hadn't seen him since I sent him off with Edmund.

“No.” She pulled her hair back and started to braid it. “Why?”

“I don't know,” I said. “I'm just worried about him.”

Natalie glanced at the two ghost jocks sitting in the stands. “It can't be easy, turning into a ghost.”

“No,” I agreed. “Especially if you get bossed around by some loose-cannon compeller.”

“You still pissed at Lukas?” She snapped a hair band around the base of her braid.

“I talked to him, but I don't think he took me seriously.”

“I don't think he takes anything seriously.”

We stood as Coach came in, and my helmet, which I'd propped on my head like sunglasses, slipped and clattered to the wooden floor.

The ghost jocks snorted, and one said,
And they say she can kill wraiths
.

Sure, if she trips and falls on them
, the other said. Then they laughed hysterically. It was like having my own personal booing team.

“You have to admit he's cute, though,” Natalie said, handing me back my helmet. “Think one of his parents is Asian?”

“I don't know. Didn't you ask?” It wasn't like Natalie was shy.

“He doesn't talk about his parents much,” she mused, a dreamy look in her eyes. “It's hard to believe that gorgeous face could be the product of two boring white people.”

He was undeniably hot, even if I was in love with someone else. But Natalie's dazed look said something more. “You like him, don't you?”

“What?” she said. “With Harry gone, there's no one worth flirting with, that's all.”

“Fine.” Who was I to deny Natalie a little innocent flirtation? God knows what kind of trouble she'd get into without it.

After lunch, I found a quiet corner in the library and tried to sense Coby and Edmund. I didn't immediately feel either of them, and didn't push it. After yelling at Lukas for bossing ghosts around, it seemed hypocritical to summon them. Instead I researched my World Civ paper.

The rest of the day went okay—still a little chilly, socially, but Harry was gone and I managed to avoid Sara. Lukas was too busy flirting with a senior girl to join us at the gate, so Natalie and I walked home together.

We talked about nothing in particular until I suddenly blurted, “Max contacted me.”

She frowned. “How?”

“By ghost,” I said. “He compelled some girl to memorize a message and sent her to me.”

“I've never heard of that.”

“Me either. Wonder if Simon has. Anyway, she …” I started to explain more about the ghost girl, but a familiar humming noise suddenly filled my brain.

“She what?” Natalie asked.

“What?” I tried to clear my head. “I don't know. I forgot what I was going to say.”

“Is Max all right?”

“He's okay, I guess. I got the sense he wasn't in Nepal or Tibet—wherever he's supposed to be. He said he didn't have anything to do with the ghostkeeper killings, thank you, Captain Obvious. And then there was some stuff about defeating Neos.” I bit my lip. “Do you think that's what he's been doing all along—looking for Neos? Did he know before we did that Neos was responsible? Why wouldn't he tell the Knell?”

Natalie shrugged. “Your parents aren't really fans.”

“Mmm. Do you think I should tell Simon?”

“Why wouldn't you?”

“I don't know. What if Max has a legitimate reason for keeping this stuff from the Knell?” I'd tell Bennett, even though he'd probably spill it to the Knell, but he wasn't here.

Natalie fiddled with her hair, looking like she wasn't sure if she wanted to say something.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing. I—I heard from Bennett. He texted me to make sure we're okay. I guess he heard about the ghasts.”

I stopped on the sidewalk. “Where is he?”

“He didn't say.”

Why had he texted her and not me? It made me sick to my stomach. It was okay when I thought he was ignoring both of us, but now it felt like his friendship with Natalie was more important that whatever was going on between him and me.

“Did he mention me?” I felt pathetic asking, but had to know.

“He wanted to make sure you're okay.”

“Then why didn't he text
me
?” I kicked a pile of fallen maple leaves. “Guys are so confusing. All girls want is to know where we stand. He and I have this perfect night in New York, and the next morning he's barely speaking to me. Now he can't even bother to text me? Guys are supposed to be the straightforward communicators, but they're not. They have no idea how they feel, what they should say or not say. They suck. And it's not just that they suck, they—”

“Emma!”

I realized she'd said my name three times. “What?”

“Bennett loves you. You know that. You just have to wait until we dispel Neos. Then you can ride off into the sunset together or whatever.”

I grunted. “I guess. But guys still suck.”

“Don't talk that way,” Lukas said, stepping beside me. “You're hurting my feelings.”

“You're an idiot,” Natalie told him.

“Are you saying that just because I'm a guy?” Lukas asked.

Natalie shrugged, as if to say, what more reason did she need?

“Then I guess that makes you a girl who likes idiots,” he said.

She gave him that coy smile she does so well. “What makes you say that?”

I felt like a third wheel as they continued teasing each other the rest of the way home. I tried to tune them out, torn between hating Bennett for not contacting me and wishing he were here so I could do a little flirting myself.

After suffering through yet another soy-based dinner, I found Simon in Bennett's father's office. He'd trained us so hard that afternoon that we'd saluted and called him Sarge. Sitting on the little sofa, reading a book bound in gray leather, he didn't look any worse for wear. He bookmarked his place when I came in, and the soft light of the lamp reflected off his glasses, making it hard to judge his expression.

“What is it, Emma?”

I stood there in the doorway, unsure where to start.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to one near him. “Would you like some chocolate?”

The offer surprised a laugh from me. “Have you
met
me?”

He smiled and handed me a bar of expensive dark chocolate. I broke off a square, popped it in my mouth, and savored the intense flavor as it melted, trying to gather my thoughts. I wanted to tell him everything, but he was still a stranger to me. And from the Knell.

He said, “You don't know if you can trust me.”

I stopped chewing. “How did you know?”

“It's only natural, Emma. You've been treated unfairly, kept in the dark for most of your life. But I can't talk you into trusting me. That's a decision you'll have to make for yourself.”

“Yeah, I just— I need to talk to someone who knows this stuff.” I didn't say anything for a minute, then made a decision. “I heard from Max. My brother. I don't know if you …”

He nodded. “He's missing, along with your parents.”

I nodded. “At least, now I know he's alive.”

“Did he phone? It's possible the Knell could trace his call.”

“They can do that?”

He tilted his head. “We have friends in law enforcement.”

“Oh,” I said. “He sent a ghost.”

“Really?” Simon sat straighter, listening intently as I explained. “That's remarkable. I've read of ghostkeepers doing that, but not in quite a long time. I wonder how he learned to do it.”

“My dad's library is bigger than this one.” I nodded toward the shelves filled with old tomes. “And Max read them all.”

“I think I'd enjoy your father's library,” he said. “When this is all over, of course.”

“When
is
it going to be over?” I asked, praying he had an answer. Simon seemed to be training us for some specific moment, but never said what. Was he waiting for instructions from the Knell? Or for the moment when Neos tried to kill me?

“Let's start with Max,” he said. “What did he tell you?”

I told him what the ghost had said about my mother's amulet. I wanted to say more, but I couldn't seem to find the right words. “And … um … I guess that's it.”

Simon didn't say anything for a minute after I finished, his brow furrowed in thought. Then he said, “Let's talk it out. Neos needs some final rite to absorb the power from your mother's amulet. He's afraid of you, and plans to kill you.
And
he summoned a siren to weaken you, so he'll succeed. Is that correct?”

“Yeah. Plus we need to find where Neos is buried, for some reason.”

“Perhaps that's a point of vulnerability. No one knows what will happen to Neos when we dispel him.”

“So where is he buried?” I asked.

He frowned. “No one knows that, either.”

“Then how can we find him?”

He tapped the cover of the gray book. “I suggest we start with the mausoleum where he killed the man for the amulet.”

“I don't understand why my mother's amulet gives Neos so much power.” He'd used it to steal the powers of other ghostkeepers, by carving its designs into their flesh before he murdered them. And somehow it had allowed him to possess Coby.

“He killed himself over your mother, and a piece of her is tied to that jade amulet. Ghostkeeping isn't a science, Emma. It's magic. And love is another kind of magic—he's bound to her. He also has some of your blood, doesn't he?”

I touched the scar on the inside of my forearm, where Neos had cut me as a child.

“He's bound to you, as well,” Simon said. “There are no easy answers, Emma. He's groping in the dark for power, while we stumble around blindly after him.”

I let out a sigh. “We really have to go back to the mausoleum?”

“After I finish researching it, yes.”

“And what about the siren? I tried looking it up but I didn't find much. I thought I heard a weird humming noise at the playground. Could that have something to do with the siren?”

“A humming noise, huh?” Simon mused. “In Greek mythology the sirens are enchantresses, bird-women who lived on these islands called Sirenum scopuli. They lured sailors to their deaths with songs of irresistible beauty.”