The Raven Boys (37 page)

“Smells like sulfur,” Blue said. “Or a dead body.”

Thinking of the horrid voice coming from Neeve’s mouth before, she wouldn’t be surprised by either.

“Smells like asafetida,” Calla corrected grimly.

“What’s that?”

“Either something that is delicious in curry, or something that is very useful in witchcraft.”

Blue tried to breathe through her mouth. It was hard to imagine something that smelled so convincingly of a dead person’s feet being delicious in anything. “Which do you think it is?”

Calla had reached the top of the stairs.

“Not curry,” she said.

Now that Blue stood at the top of the stairs, she could see that Neeve had transformed the attic into something quite different from what she remembered. A mattress covered with throw rugs lay directly on the floor. Around the room, unlit candles of different heights, dark bowls, and glasses of water were gathered in groups. Bright painters’ tape made patterns on the floor between some of the objects. Beside Blue’s feet, a half-burned plant stalk rested on a plate dusted with ashes. In one of the narrow dormers, two full-length, footed mirrors faced each other, reflecting mirrored images back and forth at each other
in perpetuum
.

Also, it was cold. The attic should not have been cold after the day’s heat.

“Don’t touch anything,” Calla told Blue. Which Blue found ironic, considering why they’d come.

Blue didn’t touch anything, but she did walk farther into the room, peering at a small statue of a woman with eyes in her belly. The entire room was giving her a crawling feeling. “She must be making a lot of curry.”

Behind them, the stairs creaked, and both Calla and Blue leapt.

“May I come up?” Persephone asked. It was an irrelevant question, as she was already “up.” Wearing a lace frock Blue had made her, she stood at the top of the stairs. Her hair was tied up tightly, which signaled that she was not afraid to get her hands dirty.

“Persephone,”
Calla thundered. She’d gotten over her shock and was now merely angry at being shocked. “You should make some noise when you enter rooms.”

“I did let the stair squeak,” Persephone pointed out. “Maura said she’ll be back at midnight, so be done by then.”

“She knows?” This was both Blue and Calla in unison.

Persephone crouched to look at a black leather mask with a long pointed beak. “You didn’t think she believed you about the dwarf movie, did you?”

Calla and Blue exchanged a look. Blue mused over what this meant: that Maura wanted to know more about Neeve as much as they did.

Blue asked, “Before we start, are you going to explain why Neeve
said
she was here in Henrietta?”

Calla moved around the room, rubbing her hands together as if she were either warming herself or planning what to pick up first. “That’s quite simple. Your mother had her out here to find your father.”

“Well,” Persephone corrected, “that is not quite true. Maura told me Neeve approached her first. Neeve said she might be able to find him.”

“Out of the blue?” Calla asked.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t use that expression,” Blue said.

“Out of nowhere?” Calla repeated. She picked up a candle. “That seems strange.”

Blue crossed her arms. “I’m still missing a lot of details here.”

Calla switched the candle from her left hand to her right. “Basically, your father showed up eighteen years ago, swept Maura off her feet, made her an absolutely useless friend for a year, got her pregnant, and then vanished after you were born. He was cagey and cute, so I assumed he was trailer-park trash with a police record.”

“Calla!”
Persephone admonished.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Blue replied. How could she be bothered by a stranger’s past? “I just want to know the facts.”

Persephone shook her head. “Do you have to be so sensible?”

Blue shrugged. She asked Calla, “What’s that candle telling you?”

Holding the candle out from her body, Calla squinted. “Just that it was used for a scrying spell. Locating objects, which is what I’d expect.”

As Calla rummaged through more things, Blue thought about what she’d just learned about her father and found she still maintained her unreasonable fondness for him. She was also pleased that he’d been cute. She said, “I heard Mom telling Neeve that the search was meant to be like looking him up online.”

“That sounds true,” Calla said. “It was just curiosity. It’s not as if she’s been pining for him.”

“Oh,” Persephone murmured, “I don’t know about that.”

This made Blue’s ears prick with interest. “Wait, you think my mother is still in love with — does he have a name?”

“Puppy,” replied Calla, and Persephone giggled, clearly recalling memories of Maura insensible with love.

“I refuse to believe Mom ever called some man
puppy
,” Blue said.

“Oh, but she did. Also
lover
.” Calla picked up an empty bowl. There was a crust in the bottom, as if it had once held a liquid with some body to it. Like pudding. Or blood. “And
butternut
.”

“You are
making that up
.” Blue was ashamed for her mother.

Persephone, a little red from trying not to laugh, shook her head. Large hanks of hair had escaped from her knot, making her look as if she had escaped a tornado. “I’m afraid not.”

“Why would you even
call
someone —”

Turning to Blue with extremely jagged eyebrows, Calla said, “Use your imagination,” and Persephone exploded into helpless laughter.

Blue crossed her arms. “Oh, really.” Her seriousness only served to dissolve any self-control the two women had left. Laughing uncontrollably, they began to trade other pet names Maura had apparently coined eighteen years earlier.

“Ladies,” Blue said sternly. “We only have forty-five minutes. Calla, touch that.” She pointed to the mirrors. Of all the odd things in the room, she found them the creepiest, and that seemed as good a reason as any to try them.

Swallowing a laugh, Calla stepped over to the mirrors. There was something unnerving about the utter impracticality of two reflecting surfaces pointed only at each other.

“Don’t stand between them,” Persephone warned.

“I’m not an idiot,” Calla retorted.

Blue asked, “Why not stand between them?”

“Who knows what she’s doing with them. I don’t want my soul put in a bottle in some other dimension or something.” Calla gripped the edge of the closest mirror, careful to stand out of the view of the other. Frowning, she pawed a hand toward Blue. Blue obligingly stepped forward and allowed Calla to press her fingers over her shoulder.

A moment passed, quiet but for the insects outside the window.

“Our little Neeve is quite ambitious,” Calla growled finally, tightening her fingers on both Blue and the mirror’s edge. “Apparently her level of fame is not enough for her. Television programs are for nobodies.”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Calla,” Persephone said. “Tell us what you see.”

“I see her wearing that black mask over there, standing in between these mirrors. I must be seeing her back wherever she came from, because she has four mirrors. Two other larger ones behind each of these. I can see her in each of the four mirrors, and she’s wearing the mask in all of them, but she looks different in each one. She’s thinner in one of them. She’s wearing black in one. Her skin looks wrong in a different one. I’m not sure what they are…. They might be possibilities.” Calla stopped. Blue felt a little chill at the idea of four different Neeves. “Bring me the mask. No, not you, Blue, stay here. Persephone —?”

Persephone gingerly retrieved the mask. Again, there was a pause as Calla read the object, her knuckles pressed white.

“She was disappointed when she bought this,” Calla said. “She’d gotten a bad review, I think, of one of her books? Or to one of her shows? No. She’d seen numbers for one or the other, and they were disappointing. I definitely see the numbers, and that’s what she’s imagining when she buys this. She was comparing herself to Leila Polotsky.”

“Who’s that?” Blue asked.

“A psychic more famous than Neeve,” Calla said.

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Blue replied. A television show and four books seemed more famous than any psychic could hope for in a disbelieving world.

“Oh, it’s very possible,” Calla asked. “Ask Persephone.”

“I don’t know about that,” Persephone said. Blue wasn’t sure if she was talking about being famous or about asking her.

Calla blew onward. “Anyway, our woman Neeve wishes she could travel the world and get some respect. And this mask helps her visualize that.”

“What’s this have to do with her being here?” Blue asked.

“I don’t know yet. I need a better object.” Calla released the mirror and returned the mask to its hook on the wall.

They poked about the room. Blue found a switch made of three sticks tied together with a red ribbon, and a red mask to match the black one. Near the window, she found the source of the hideous smell: a little cloth bag with something sewed into it.

She gave the bag to Calla, who held it for just a moment before saying dismissively, “That’s the asafetida. It’s just a protection charm. She got spooked by a dream and made it.”

Crouching, Persephone hovered her hands over one of the bowls. The way she held her palms out, fingers barely moving, reminded Blue of Gansey holding his hand out over the shallow pool of water in Cabeswater. Persephone said, “There is quite a lot of uncertainty in all of this, isn’t there? That’s what I feel. Perhaps it’s quite as simple as this: She did come to help Maura but is getting a little carried away by Henrietta.”

“Because of the corpse road?” asked Blue. “I caught her scrying in the middle of the night and she told me the corpse road made it easy to be psychic here.”

Calla sneered before turning to rummage in the things beside the bed.

“Easier and harder,” Persephone said. “It’s got a lot of energy, so it’s like having you in the room all the time. But it’s like your boys. It’s quite loud.”

My boys!
Blue thought, first in a huff, then flattered, then in a huff again.

Persephone asked, “Calla, what are you finding out?”

Calla’s back was to them as she replied, “Eleven months ago, a man called Neeve on the phone to ask her if he could bring her to Henrietta, Virginia, for an all-expenses paid trip. While she was there, she was supposed to use any means at her disposal to pinpoint a ley line and a ‘place of power’ that he knew was close by but couldn’t find. She told him she wasn’t interested but decided upon further thought that she might investigate this possibility on her own. She guessed Maura might let her stay in town if she came offering to help locate her old boyfriend.”

Persephone and Blue wore matching astonished expressions.

“That’s amazing!” Blue said.

Calla turned around. She was holding a small notebook, which she waved at them. “
That
is Neeve’s day planner.”

“Oh, technology.” Persephone sighed. “I thought I heard a car. I’ll be right back.”

While Persephone padded down the stairs as silently as she’d climbed them, Blue sidled over to Calla, hooking her chin on Calla’s shoulder so she could catch a glimpse for herself. “Where does it say all that?”

Calla flipped back through pages of Neeve’s handwriting and showed her the pages of mundane notes on appointment times, publishing deadlines, and lunch dates. Then she flipped back to the notes for the call with the Henrietta man. It was all as Calla had said, with one notable exception. Neeve had also jotted down the man’s name and phone number.

Every muscle in Blue’s body went slack.

Because the name of the man who’d called Neeve all those months ago was a rather peculiar one that Blue, by now, knew quite well: Barrington Whelk.

Behind them, the single stair creaked again. Persephone said something that was a bit like
ahem
.

“That was still a little sinister,” Calla said, turning.

Persephone’s hands were clasped before her. “I have two pieces of bad news.” She turned to Blue. “First of all, your raven boys are here, and one of them seems to have broken his thumb on a gun.”

Behind Persephone, there was another creak as a second person climbed the stairs. Blue and Calla both twitched a little as Neeve appeared beside Persephone, her gaze eternal and unwavering.

“Secondly,” Persephone added, “Neeve and Maura came home early.”

T
he kitchen was quite full. It had never been a large kitchen to start with, and by the time three boys, four women, and one Blue were in it, it felt like it hadn’t been made with enough floor. Adam was polite, helping Persephone make tea for everyone in the room, though he had to keep asking,
Where are the mugs? And now where are the spoons? What about the sugar?
Ronan more than made up for Adam’s calm, though — he took up enough room for three people with his restless pacing. Orla came down for the gossip but stared so admiringly at Ronan that Calla yelled at her to leave and give everyone more space.