Buried Page 12

  She avoids naming Alejandro or looking at him. Alejandro looks pained but attempts to mask his emotion.

  “I was waiting until we were all together,” he says then clears his throat. “Here’s the short version: Merry’s―friend―Minnie Dilleck has been captured by Potestas. They plan to kill her to fuel their ceremony to bring the spirits to Earth. We need to find her before they do.”

  I can’t sit still anymore and resume pacing. Laid out like that, it sounds so simple, yet impossible. My knuckles crack when I clench them.

  Jen holds up the page of notes that I scrawled minutes ago.

  “These are Merry’s ideas of where to look, and other information about Minnie that might lead us in the right direction.” She hands the paper to Alejandro, being careful to not let their hands touch. Alejandro holds the paper out to read it.

  “I have names of Potestas members, too,” I say with a start of remembrance. “On my phone, pictures from March’s office. I’ll send them to you right now.”

  “This is good, Merlo,” says Alejandro. “I think we should split up and tackle each lead separately. Who knows how much time we have?” He looks at me with guilt. “All I meant is that we’ll be more efficient. Okay, Wayne, you go to Minnie’s apartment and turn it upside down for clues. I’ll go to Anna’s house and see what I find.”

  “Minnie’s front door is open,” I add. “And don’t forget Anna and the others are likely protected by spirits. Tread with care.”

  “Noted. Liam, look up the people from Potestas that Merry knows―Esme, Jeremy Barnum, Ben―and find out where they live. Merry―”

  “I’m going to back to March’s house to get the grail.” I say. “I don’t care if the house falls down. Failing that, I’ll be at headquarters.”

  My face must reflect my grim determination, because Jen speaks up.

  “Don’t forget that the members of Potestas are just people, people who may be misguided. Be careful, okay?”

  “They deserve everything I give them. They are all complicit, all accessories to first degree murder, and if they get in my way, I will take them down.” I speak with a flat finality, and Jen blanches. Then her face flushes with anger.

  “Stop it. Join the twenty-first century. We will catch these people and they can be tried in court by the authorities. It’s not your place to see justice done. At least pretend to have some humanity.”

  I am silenced by this. Part of me courses with anger and determination to wreak havoc in the lives of Potestas members, but the other half wonders at myself. Have I lived too long, that human decency and fairness is fading away for me?

  “Whatever you planned for me, Alejandro,” says Jen. “You’ll have to reassign it. I’m going with Merry to keep an eye on him.”

  Alejandro nods, and the rest are silent.

  CHAPTER XVII

  “We don’t have time to wait around,” I say at last into the quiet. “Call me if you find anything.”

  I sweep out of the room toward the front door. Jen hurries after me but wisely says nothing. She follows me to the car. When I squeal out of the parking garage, she clenches her seat.

  “Slow down, Merry,” she says in a strained voice. “We can’t help Minnie if we’re in the hospital.”

  I grit my teeth. We have no time for Jen’s squeamishness about my driving. I wish she hadn’t come with me―I could be a lot quicker without her. I breathe deeply, but it does nothing to calm me.

  Instead, I push my thoughts toward strategy. When Alejandro and I stole into March’s house this afternoon, I changed us into birds to fly over in stealth. I could do that again, I suppose, although Jen has never transformed before and I don’t know how she would react in bird-form.

  I shake my head. This isn’t the time for subterfuge. I don’t care if March knows I’m there. In fact, I almost want her to know, so that I can show her what happens to those who threaten me and mine. I have had it with Potestas and their power plays. I want them gone, every last one.

  Jen rubs her nose beside me, and I am brought back to her comments in my apartment. Is that why she has been strange around me lately? Does she feel that I have lost my humanity, that perhaps I didn’t have any to begin with? Does she worry that because I am from a far-gone era, that I have nothing in common with modern folk?

  I sigh, then steel myself. Perhaps not every member of Potestas needs to pay, but March is certainly due for a reckoning. And until I have Minnie safely in my arms, mercy is not in my vocabulary.

  Our drive through the darkening streets is silent. When the car purrs to a stop in front of March’s property, Jen looks at me.

  “What’s the plan? How are we going to sneak in?”

  “We’re not.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car. She follows. “We’re storming the gates. I am retrieving that grail, one way or another.”

  “What? What if March is here, with a protective spirit?” Jen runs after me as I stride toward the gate between the hedges.

  “Then she’ll find out exactly who she’s dealing with, won’t she?”

  I run my hands over the wrought-iron gate. My fingers pull lauvan from the iron that is suspended in mid-air by supports, and the removal of threads creates fractures in the iron. Once there is enough, I grab the metal with both hands and wrench it toward me.

  With a shrieking squeal, the metal bends and snaps. The jagged hole created is wide enough for us to clamber through.

  “Whoa,” Jen breathes. “Okay, I guess we’re in.”

  I take the lead and help Jen through the opening, then pace up the driveway without waiting. The paving stones are solid beneath my feet, and I feel grounded and ready for action.

  The house looms up before us, white with dark beams and dormers that appear as if the house is watching us. I take the steps two at a time and pound on the door.

  “Do you expect someone to answer?” Jen asks breathlessly behind me.

  “It would be simpler than breaking in.”

  There is no response, so I move to the nearest window, take a potted plant from its perch on the railing, and throw. Jen yelps when the glass shatters.

  “Did you really just do that?” She looks around anxiously. “I’ve never broken the law before.”

  “I come from a time when laws were a lot more fluid, and I’ve seen plenty of them come and go.” I use another pot to bash at the glass that clings to the window frame. “If March threatens someone I care about, as far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t deserve to sit tight and snug in her home. I’m coming to get what’s mine.”

  I climb in and give a hand to Jen, who gingerly steps over the threshold and crunches on the glass strewn across the hardwood floor.

  “Downstairs,” I say. “That’s where the grail is kept. Come on.”

  “What if somebody is here?” Jen whispers in my ear.

  “Wouldn’t they have come running to see what all the noise was about?”

  “I wouldn’t. I’d be worried about a burglar attacking me. Not all of us have fighting skills.”

  I shrug.

  “Then they’ll stay away. Works for me. Priorities, Jen. Let’s get the grail and get out of here.”

  In the kitchen, I swing the basement door open and rattle down the wooden stairs. I pause at the bottom and stare in horrified disbelief.

  The safe is open, and the grail is gone.

  “No,” I say, quietly and then with rising volume. “No, no, no, no!”

  “What?” says Jen in a panicked tone.

  “It’s gone. That murdering, smug, cultish, monster March Feynman took the grail already.” My shoulders tighten with anger. “They have everything they need for the ceremony.”

  My limbs shake with barely controlled rage, and my vision blurs. All I can think about is Minnie, scared and alone, lying on a sacrificial stone while March wields a knife above her body, the grail with its multicolored strands in her other hand. How can I let that happen? How can I stop it?

  Through the rush of blood in
my ears, I can hear rattling and shattering sounds. My lauvan fling around my face, but I don’t care. It’s not until I hear a scream and a thud that my vision clears. I whip my head around.

  Jen lies at the bottom of the stairs, propped up on one elbow and looking disoriented. My anger seeps out of me like a leaky balloon. Did I push Jen off the steps in my mindless rage?

  My heart clenches and I drop to my knees at Jen’s side. Her eyes focus on me, and she shrinks back in fear. I close my eyes in remorse.

  “Jen, I’m so sorry. I was so angry, I lost control. You should never have been hurt.” I reach out to touch her shoulder, and she allows me, but her threads remain tense and unsure. “Let me see your head.”

  She bends forward to expose the back of her head to me. There is a loose knot of lauvan above her hair, but nothing that I can’t smooth away. In a matter of moments, her threads are free-flowing once more and she looks up.

  I don’t meet her eyes. I don’t want to know what I’ll see there. Does she see me as a monster? Is she right?

  “Let’s go to Potestas headquarters,” I say and hold out my hand to help her up. “That’s our next best bet.”

  Jen is silent behind me. The kitchen is empty when we enter, but footsteps sound in the hall. I creep to the door to look.

  A man in a polo shirt with an insignia on it sees me and shouts. I recognize the shirt―he’s one of March’s security guards.

  “Stop right there,” he shouts.

  I have no intention of surrendering to March’s security team. I glance around the kitchen for ammunition. Jen has flattened herself against the wall and stares at me with wide eyes.

  “Now what?” she whispers.

  “Now this.” I grab three kitchen knives from a large wooden block on the counter. They’re clearly expensive and have a nice heft to them. I weigh one in my right hand as the man approaches. He pulls out a gun.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” I say. I step to the right and fling the knife at the man. It flies tip over handle and slices into the man’s shirt at the shoulder. The tip plants itself in the wall behind him. He freezes and glances between the knife and me.

  I don’t wait for his reaction and simply throw another knife with an accuracy born of centuries of practice. It embeds itself in the other sleeve’s shoulder. The man drops the gun and it skitters away on the floor. I pace toward him and he pales.

  “What are you going to do?” he chokes out.

  “Where is March Feynman?” I ask, my face inches from his. His breath smells of stale coffee.

  “I don’t know,” he says. When I make a sudden motion, he babbles, “Honestly, I don’t know. My job is to watch the house. Other guys are on bodyguard detail. They don’t tell us things we don’t need to know. Even if I phoned in, they wouldn’t tell me.”

  I hold the last knife under the man’s chin. It scratches against stubble and he lifts his head as far as it will go. His breath comes quickly.

  “Stop it.” Jen’s voice comes loud and stern. “That’s enough. He doesn’t know anything. Decide if you want a vendetta or a rescue. Because I’m only with you for one of them.”

  I pause for a moment. The man’s eyes search my face, desperately looking for a sign. The knife stays at his chin. Then I jab my hand into his center, swift as a snake, and squeeze hard. His eyes roll back, and he slumps to the floor, tearing his shirt on the knives as he falls.

  “What the hell did you do?” Jen rushes to the man’s side. I toss the knife on the counter.

  “He’s only unconscious, you needn’t worry. Come on, there’s nothing more we can gain by staying here. We need to go to Potestas headquarters.”

  Jen looks at me with wariness tinged with approval. She stands and straightens her shirt.

  “Let’s go.” She touches my forearm briefly. “Together.”

  We make our way to the door. On the front porch, my phone rings. Alejandro’s voice shouts when I put him on speakerphone.

  “Did you find the grail?” he says.

  “No luck. Anything on your end?”

  “Liam found Esme’s and Ben’s addresses and phone numbers. He’s trying to contact them.”

  “Good. We’re going to headquarters now, see if anyone is around that I can extract information out of.” I glance at Jen, who wears a frown at my choice of words. “We’re running out of time. Minnie is still alive, but for how long?”

  “How do you know?” Jen asks. I look at the threads of midnight blue that are entwined with my own, descending from my center into the porch stairs.

  “Her lauvan are still connected to me. If she were dead, they would be gone.” I force myself to say the words with detachment, but Jen’s sharp glance tells me she isn’t fooled.

  “That’s not all,” Alejandro says. “Wayne found the invitation to that mountaineering club in Minnie’s apartment, the one that Anna said she sent to draw her to the ceremony. The meeting was at noon today. That must be when she was taken.”

  I tap my foot in frenzied thought.

  “The grail,” I say at last. “We may not know where Minnie is, but without the grail, Potestas can’t complete the ceremony. Jen and I will stop at headquarters. They may have taken it there.”

  “Okay, Merlo. See you soon. Stay safe, Jen.” Alejandro hangs up before we can respond. I shove my phone in my pocket.

  “Let’s go. With any luck, the grail is still at headquarters.”

  ***

  I screech to a halt in front of Sweet Thing, the cupcake shop that hides Potestas headquarters. Jen is pale and white-knuckled, but she uncharacteristically said nothing while I tore through the dark streets.

  Sweet Thing is closed at this late hour, but the door is unlocked as always. I rip the door open and storm inside. I don’t care about maintaining secrecy for Potestas, not now. Any aspirations to espionage that I held before this point have evaporated. All I care about is freeing Minnie from the clutches of March and her followers.

  I push behind the counter and yank the “plumbing” door open. Jen allows the door to slam shut behind us.

  The common area is empty. It’s the first time I’ve seen it thus, and my heart sinks into my stomach at the sight. We’re too late. Is everyone already preparing Minnie for the sacrifice? I should have raced here immediately, intercepted March. Now she is far ahead of me, and Minnie is in more danger than ever before.

  “Damn it!” I mash my fist into my palm. “They’re all gone.”

  “Check the rooms before we go,” says Jen. “Just quickly.”

  I race to March’s office before Jen finishes her sentence and burst through the door. No one is there. The central meeting room is the same. But down in the hall, the door to the amulet acquisition room is partly ajar. I point to it and motion Jen to stay back. Depending on who is in there, I might be able to pretend I am still a loyal Potestas member copto gain information without force.

  I peek my head into the room. The shelves are not as full as they were the last time I was in here, and my gut tightens. More Potestas members must have spirit amulets, which means that our rescue of Minnie will be even more difficult. There is only one person in the room.

  “It’s Arnold, right?” I say into the quiet. Arnold looks up at my voice, then he relaxes when he recognizes me. He pauses his packing of amulets into a backpack.

  “Merry, hi. What are you doing here so late? If you’re volunteering at the ceremony, it’s not until tomorrow morning. I suggest you get some sleep.”

  “I was just leaving.” My voice is rough with anger and fear, and I try to modulate it without much success. “I saw your door open and thought I’d see who was still here.”

  Arnold’s lauvan buzz with excitement, and he doesn’t notice my odd behavior.

  “I had to grab a few extra amulets, just in case. March said we had enough, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” He rubs his hands together. “Do you want to see the barrier I created to contain the sacrifice? I gave the full version to March to take to the
ceremony, but my little prototype is here.”

  He’s clearly itching to show someone his genius. My hands clench at the mention of a sacrifice, but I try to answer as calmly as I can. I need to leave but knowing about this barrier may mean the difference between saving Minnie and watching her die.

  Arnold doesn’t wait for my response. He pulls four rings off a nearby shelf and spaces them evenly in a small circle on the table. Each ring glows with different elemental lauvan―orange for fire, silver for air, blue for water, and brown for earth―and when Arnold hums in a high-pitched tone and passes his hands over the circle, the threads entwine up and around each other to form a dome of glistening strands. My mouth opens.

  “What is that?” I whisper.

  “Can you see it?” Arnold asks. He glances at me with curiosity. “That’s some power you have there.” He chuckles with glee and grabs a small wooden box from the shelf. “It doesn’t look like much yet, not to me, but wait until you see what it does. We’ll have a much bigger one at the ceremony, and the sacrifice will sit in the middle. The spell can only work within the barrier, but there’s a bonus.” Arnold opens the box and shakes out a shiny black beetle into his palm. “No one can go through the barrier once it’s activated. I’m not sure exactly what happens, but they won’t be right after. They might even die. So that’s a great side benefit―no one will be able to prevent the ceremony from occurring, not without harming themselves. It's a difficult thing we're doing, and I fully understand if someone gets cold feet, but hard decisions have to be made for the good of the many."

  Arnold places the beetle on the table and nudges it in the right direction. It scuttles toward the rings then veers away, as if it can sense the dome of strands before it. Arnold herds it toward the dome with his hands, and the insect slowly crosses through the barrier.

  Halfway through, it pauses. Its legs begin to twitch. A jolt passes over the black carapace, and the beetle is ejected from the dome. It lies on its back, shuddering spasmodically. Its lauvan convulse, then float away from the beetle and disappear into transparency. The body lies still.