Sweet Nightmare, page 34
At first I have no idea what she means, but then a weird tingling starts in my hand. At first it’s only where her tears touched, but then it’s all the way to the bone. Instinctively, I pull it back only to watch in astonishment as my skin—and the sinew below it—knits back together without so much as a scratch.
As soon as I’m healed, Ember drops my hand before wiping her damp cheek a little self-consciously.
“I don’t understand,” I tell her, still a little shell-shocked at what just happened.
“Phoenix tears can heal a lot of things,” she answers with a little quirk of her brows. “They can’t bring people back from the dead, and they can’t completely reverse mortal injuries, but they do a pretty good job on everything else.”
“Thank you.”
She turns and heads back to the others, all of whom are standing around trading war stories.
Everybody but Jude and Remy, that is. I start to ask where they went, but before I can, the door to the supply closet bursts open and the two of them pile out, their arms filled with whatever Calder Academy uniforms they could get their hands on.
Hoodies, T-shirts, sweats, athletic shorts, socks—all in a variety of sizes and all in bright cardinal red and black. “Well, at least the rescuers will be able to spot us,” Luis comments as Remy tosses him a red T-shirt and shorts.
“True story,” Simon laughs, clapping him on the back.
Jude hands out clothes to everyone else before walking up to me with a black T-shirt and a pair of red shorts. “There are sweats, too, if you want them.”
“These are good, thanks.”
I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just kind of stands there and watches me. I start to get annoyed, but then I realize I haven’t said anything to him, either. Not because I don’t want to, but because I have absolutely no idea where to start unraveling the jumble of words and emotions spinning around inside me right now.
Maybe it’s the same for Jude.
So instead of reaching for sarcasm like I usually do, I just take the clothes and start to walk away. Hopefully one of us will figure out the right thing to say sometime soon.
But I’ve barely gone a step when Jude’s hand closes lightly over my elbow. The second his fingers brush my skin, my heart speeds up and my head goes a little dizzy. Which is stupid. This is Jude, just Jude. Only…not.
I force myself to calm down—to take a breath—as I turn back to face him.
He looks the way he always does—eyes serious, full lips pressed into a straight line, face blank. Except then everything softens—he softens—and I feel the tight ball inside me, made up of too much emotion and too much loss in too short a time, start to slowly unwind.
Even before the corners of his lips quirk up in that teeny tiny curve that’s as close to a smile as Jude gets and he says, “Whatever happens, I’ve got you, Kumquat.”
I lift a brow and give him a small smile of my own. And answer, “I think you mean, I’ve got you, Sergeant Pepper.”
And then I turn and walk away before I grab him and kiss him the way I’ve been wanting to since we were fourteen years old.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
It Takes Two
to Tapestry
Luis is waiting for me outside the bathroom when I’m done changing. It’s the first chance I’ve had to talk to him since all hell broke loose. I throw my arms around his neck and hold on tight. When I step back, I can’t stop looking at Luis. His past form is about four years old, completely precocious, and absolutely adorable. No wonder he got away with so much shit…until he didn’t.
“I don’t think I recognize you dry,” he teases.
“I’m trying out a new look,” I say with a huge grin, pretending to flip my hair.
“It’s almost like you’re trying to impress someone.” Luis bats his eyes at me—and then at Jude.
“Oh my God, you’re terrible!” I say with mock annoyance.
But then his smile fades. “You okay?”
I know he’s talking about Eva now and everything that’s happened since then, so I shake my head. “Not really, no.”
“Yeah, me neither.” He pulls me in for another hug, this one even longer than the first. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I just wish I knew how to get the hell out of it,” I tell him as we grab one of the buckets of snacks from the admin tables and make our way back to the others.
As we do, the winds outside get even faster. I can see it in the way the trees are blowing back and forth, hear it in the sudden uptick of their branches knocking against the windows in the halls.
Only about a third of the windows were boarded up before Jude’s nightmares got loose. Is this really the best building to hole up in during the worst part of the hurricane?
At the same time, at least the unboarded windows are letting in as much light as the storm allows. Plus, we’ve got medical and storm supplies, dry clothes, snacks…plus a host of student rooms to ransack for supplies if we end up needing to.
Not to mention the fact that we’re already here, which trumps a lot of the downsides in my opinion.
I grab a pack of peanut butter crackers from the top before handing the bucket to Simon.
“We just have to wait it out, right?” Mozart says from where she’s sitting cross-legged on one of the room’s worn-out sofas. “I mean, the storm can’t last forever, can it?”
Izzy grabs a granola bar and tosses it to Remy, who’s currently sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. “Can you portal us out?” she asks.
“What does she mean?” I’ve never given portals much thought before—why should I when they’ve been blocked on the island my whole life? Plus, I’m not particularly eager to get back in one, if I’m being honest.
“It means Remy’s got the portal mojo,” Izzy says as she twirls a dagger between her fingers. “His portals are legendary…at least in his own mind,” she finishes.
“Damned by faint praise.” Remy’s voice is rueful as he turns back to the group. “But to answer the question, I’ve already tried. Several times. Even though the portal block is still down, the storm must be stopping me because I can’t get out.”
“Is that normal?” I ask. “You not being able to use your powers in a storm?”
His New Orleans accent is heavier than usual when he answers, “To be fair, cher, I’m not sure I know what normal is. I have spent most of my life in prison.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I can’t believe I’d forgotten that.
“No worries.” He shrugs. “Just one more thing you and I have in common.”
I’m not expecting the hurt that truth brings.
“Why are you asking about his powers?” Luis’s silver eyes are intent as they study me. “What does it matter if they can’t help us now?”
“It probably doesn’t matter,” I admit. “I just keep thinking that there’s something strange about this storm.”
“Thank God!” Simon exclaims. “I’m not the only one.”
I jerk my gaze to his. “You think it’s strange, too?”
He shakes his head. “Before I came here, I spent my whole life in the Atlantic. I’ve been through more hurricanes than I can count—category one all the way up to category five. I’ve never seen anything like this before. Never.”
“What do you mean?” Jude asks. He’s half sitting, half leaning on one of the tables, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
He’s been silent up until now, not because he isn’t listening, but because he is.
“What’s so different about it?” he continues.
“The portal breaking the way it did. All the mermaids, selkies, and sirens getting their asses kicked when they tried to make a break for it after getting their power back. And now Remy not being able to get us out of here?” Simon shrugs. “I don’t know, man. Maybe I’m imagining things, but it’s like the storm is working overtime to either trap us or kill us.”
“Why either or?” Luis remarks dryly. “Can’t it be both?”
“Right?” I agree. “When I was on the beach, I kept thinking that the storm was doing it on purpose, too. And I know”—I hold a hand up to ward off any objections or explanations about the indifference of the natural world—“that nature isn’t out to get us. But this doesn’t feel indifferent. It feels…”
“Malicious,” Mozart finishes for me. Future Mozart looks impressed as she looks at both of us over the top of the book she’s reading.
“Exactly,” I tell her. “Then add in all the other weird stuff that’s been happening around here and I can’t help thinking something else is going on. And we’re missing it because we’re blinded by—”
“A bunch of fifteen- to twenty-foot waves that keep trying to kill us?” Izzy comments, her voice dry.
“Pretty much,” I agree.
“What other weird stuff?” Ember speaks up for the first time. She’s been stretched out on the floor, eyes closed and hands behind her head. I thought she was sleeping, but apparently, she’s just been soaking in the conversation.
I don’t answer right away. Not because I don’t think I should tell everyone what’s going on—hell, Caspian literally just dumped it on Simon—but because I don’t know how to explain it.
“I can see…things,” I say after a moment.
Luis’s eyes widen because he knows how I feel about telling people about the ghosts. But this isn’t just about ghosts anymore. Everything tells me it’s about something much bigger than that, and if we’re going to figure out what it is and save ourselves, we’re going to need to figure out what it is.
I nod to Luis to let him know I appreciate his concern—but that I know what I’m doing. Then I turn to Jude, and he’s watching me steadily, his mystical eyes dark but supportive. And when he glances down at the empty spot next to him on the table, I accept the invitation and walk over to sit next to him.
I don’t know what’s going through his head, don’t know where we go after what happened at the cottages and then on the beach.
But Jude says he’s got me, and for now, that’s enough. While I’m ready to face whatever’s coming in the next few hours, I can’t do it alone.
“What kind of things are we talking about here?” Remy asks, and suddenly he seems very, very interested in listening to me.
I don’t say anything until I’m settled next to Jude, his hand resting on my lower back to send support that I didn’t know I needed.
“I know this sounds strange, but I’ve always been able to see ghosts. The island’s power blocking never shut it down the way it did my manticore abilities.” I give a little shrug to let them know it’s as confusing to me as it probably is to them.
“Ghosts?” Mozart repeats, her eyes going huge. “Seriously? Like scary ghosts or normal ghosts or something in between?”
I think about the wild-eyed ghost who has taken to popping up when I least expect her and say, “Both.”
“That’s badass,” Ember comments, and for once she actually looks interested in what comes next.
“It’s something,” I tell her. “Not sure badass is the right word. Especially since I’ve been seeing more than just ghosts ever since last night.”
Luis’s eyes go even wider at that revelation, and Jude stiffens against me. But before either of them can ask what I mean, Remy’s brows go up. “What exactly does that mean?” he queries, and his eyes are more than curious. They’re watchful.
How do I explain to him that right now I can see three of him and everyone else in this room, except for Jude. Oh, and I can also see where the old hotel concierge desk used to be—as well as the old guy who worked it.
“I know this sounds bizarre,” I start. “But I’m pretty sure I can see the past and the future as well as the present.”
A long silence greets my revelation, one filled with confused what-the-fuck looks and nonverbal exchanges among our group. Jude and Luis both look worried as hell. Izzy turns to stare at Remy, but he’s too busy studying me to notice.
“So you can see what’s going to happen?” Ember looks like she’s suddenly regretting the tears she shared with me. “Because, if so, I’ve got to say you really should have warned us about that portal breaking.”
“It’s not like that,” I answer. “I can’t tell what’s going to happen in the future. I can just see static pieces of it.”
“What is it like?” Mozart asks. She doesn’t look concerned so much as fascinated. “Can you see something from the past or the future right now?”
“I can.”
“Like what?” Luis leans forward, obviously intrigued.
Instead of telling him that future Luis looks exactly like present Luis, right down to the clothing—which concerns me greatly, considering everything that happened on the beach—I say, “There’s a little girl over near the snack table. She’s wearing a frilly dress and playing with a yo-yo.”
Everyone turns to look—everyone except Remy, that is.
“Where?”
“She’s on the side with the boxes. And there’s an old guy sitting on the couch next to Mozart. He’s reading the New York Times from Monday, February 7, 2061. That’s why you keep rubbing your arm.”
Mozart’s eyes go wide, but all she says is, “I keep rubbing my arm because it feels like something’s crawling on it.”
“You do it every time he turns the page on the newspaper.”
“Holy shit!” She jumps off the couch and whirls around to face it, like that’s going to show her something. “There’s really someone sitting there?”
“Not at the moment, but apparently there will be in a little under forty years.”
“Weird. Very, very weird.” She settles back on the couch a lot more gingerly than before. “But why can I feel him when I can’t see him?”
“I don’t know. But I noticed people were acting weird last night after the nightmare attack.”
“I can’t imagine why…” Izzy mutters. I choose to ignore the quip.
“Especially when they were waiting to go into the portal. They were acting like Mozart. They would trip over nothing, swat at a nonexistent pest, itch at something bugging them, but I could see exactly what was provoking the reaction, so…”
“Yeah, but how can you tell they’re not just ghosts?” Luis asks as Ember gets to her feet. “You’ve always been able to see details about them.”
“A ghost from 2061?” Simon sounds skeptical.
“I don’t know, maybe. She sees a lot of weird stuff on the regular,” Luis tells him before turning back to me. “How can you tell?”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” I answer. “I just know. When I look at a place, I can see it in the past and future and the people that belong in those eras. It’s like a movie playing in front of me. Whereas ghosts have a weird kind of mist that they trail, and they tend to be aware of me in a way these people aren’t.”
“What about the little girl?” Ember asks abruptly. “Is she from the past or the future?”
I glance back over at the girl and can’t help smiling as she tosses her yo-yo in the air over and over again. “I think the past—she’s wearing her hair in those big Shirley Temple curls that were popular a long time ago.”
I watch as Ember crosses the room to the spot where I told her the little girl was. And while she’s got the general area, she’s about four feet too far to the left.
“I don’t feel anything,” she calls once she comes to a stop.
I sigh as I tell her, “Move to your right.”
She looks even more skeptical, but she does as I say. “Still don’t feel anything.”
“Keep going,” I answer.
She takes another step, and it’s obvious that she thinks I’m full of shit.
“Take another two steps to the right.”
“Seriously?” she demands.
“What do you want me to say?” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “The kid is where the kid is. I can’t change that to make you believe me.”
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes and takes another two small steps, which still leaves her several inches from the young girl.
I know Ember’s about to call me on it. But just as she opens her mouth to say something, the little girl throws her yo-yo straight at Ember’s shins.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Yuzu Could
Do Worse
The second the yo-yo touches her, Ember grabs her shin and jumps about three feet. Seeing the skeptical, normally too-cool-for-school phoenix freak out is extra amusing.
Everyone else rears back as she loses it, even before she books it back across the room to the rest of us.
“Okay, so maybe Clementine knows what she’s talking about after all.” She shudders violently. “What did that kid hit me with anyway?”
“A yo-yo,” I answer as I struggle not to laugh.
She still looks more than a little freaked out when she settles back down on the ground.
“So you can see things that previously happened or that will happen in whatever place you happen to be in,” Simon recaps as he ticks off the point on his finger. “Which you’ve never been able to do before.” He moves to the second finger. “And at the same time you became able to see these things, the rest of us became able to feel them.”
“Pretty much,” I agree.
“It’s like the two different time periods or dimensions or whatever are brushing against each other,” Mozart says in awe.
“I have no idea if they’re brushing against each other or not. I just know that what Simon described is happening.”
“Okay. And—”
She breaks off when Jude holds up a hand. “Is that it?” he asks me.
