Into the Dark: The Shadow Prince Part 32

"If we could find one, what difference would that make? The Oracle of Elysium has spoken. Her words have been sealed."

"Not all Oracles speak from the same source," Dax says. "Another one might be able to give you more information. Look at things from a different angle. Let you know what other options might be available to you. If any."

"What are you doing?" I whisper.

"Helping."

"How is this helping? You can't make her think there are other options when there aren't."

"You don't know that unless you find out for yourself."

"It isn't my place to find out for myself."

"Yes, it is, Haden. You've been conditioned all your life to obey without questioning. To treat your father like he's the new Hades. Like he's a G.o.d. They tell you your impulsiveness is your weakness, but it's not. And I never should have encouraged you to restrain it. Your impulsiveness is your greatest strength-because it's the only time you think for yourself." I shake my head at Dax. "Thinking for myself is what got me into this mess. My most impulsive act was what caused my father to disown me in the first place. I can't do this-"

"Yes, you can. But you need to stop thinking like an outcast. Stop thinking like an Underlord. Or even a want-to-be prince. You're half human, Haden. Start thinking like one. Humans question. Humans think for themselves."

I glare at Dax. "This is what you wanted all along, isn't it? This is why you've encouraged me to open up to my emotions-to my humanness. I thought you were my friend. I thought you were on my side. But all you've wanted is for me to fail. From the very beginning."

"What I want is for you to make your own path. To find love. To live. Just like me."

"Like you?" How could Dax call anything about his life since he returned from his time as Champion living?

"Excuse me?" I hear Daphne say. "Still here, remember?"

Both Dax and I snap our attention back to her.

"Yeah. Hi. I know you think you all are whispering but you might as well be shouting from the rooftops. I gather Mr. Drool here knows where to find one of these 'other Oracles.'" She steps out from around the armchair, no longer barricading herself behind it. "I want to go see her."

"I can get you a name and city," Dax says. "a.s.suming she hasn't moved to a new town in the last six years."

"That'll do." Daphne looks at me. "You're coming with me."

"I thought you didn't believe in all this 'fate mumbo jumbo,'" I say, quoting the way she put it when we were in the music shop.

"I don't, but I believe you believe it. And if I can convince this Oracle lady to tell you that you've got the wrong girl, then you'll believe her."

"You can't change an Oracle's mind. It doesn't work that way."

"We'll see," she says, sounding far too confident.

"So what's it going to be?" Dax says. "Are you going with her?"

"Before I agree," I say to him, "I want you to tell Daphne what happened to your Boon." Dax's face goes ashen, confirming what I've suspected for some time now. Ever since I found out that Tobin's sister had gone missing. Ever since Simon had insinuated that Dax had tried to run away while he was here last-and how unpleasant it would be if he had to send someone after me.

"You know I can't say anything about that," he says.

"Then I'll say it for you. She died, didn't she? You fell in love with her. You didn't want to take her back to the Underrealm, so you consulted this other Oracle for help. But you didn't like what she said, so you tried to run away with your Boon. . . . But something went wrong. And she died."

"That's the basic gist of the story," Dax says, his voice barely audible.

"Was her name Abbie?" Daphne asks.

He nods.

A small sound escapes her lips. It almost sounds like a sob.

"You still want to go find this other Oracle?" I ask her.

"Yes," she says, sounding more determined than before.

"Then we can leave in the morning."

"No," she says.

"No? I thought you . . ."

"We don't know how long it's going to take to find this Oracle chick, and reviews for finals start on Monday," she says. "And I have rehearsals with Joe's band, and stuff for the music department. I can't just push pause on my life right now and go."

"Then when?"

"The semester ends on December eighteenth. I wasn't going to head back to Ellis Fields until the twenty-first, but I'll tell Joe that I decided that I want to fly home early. That'll give me two days that I don't have to be accountable to anyone with my time. We'll go then." I nod, trying to appease her in some way, but I wish I could get this over with right now. The sooner she realizes her destiny is to go with me, the better.

I insist on driving Daphne back to her house. She may not like it, but I plan on sticking close to her for the next three weeks because now that we've made our plan, I don't like the idea of letting her out of my sight. It feels like tempting fate. Or at least tempting Simon. If he were to get wind of how many rules I've broken or find out that I am planning on leaving town with my Boon, taking an unprecedented detour on my quest . . . I don't like to think about the endless possibilities of what he might do.

chapter forty-six.

daphne

The next three weeks pa.s.s too quickly and yet at the same time feel like they couldn't go any slower. I find myself avoiding Tobin and Joe as much as possible, and pour myself into studying for finals, as if my life depended on how well I do on those tests. It's too hard to be around people I have to pretend to be normal with. To pretend like everything is okay. But I don't talk to Haden, either, even though he always seems to be close by. Like he's afraid to take his eyes off me.

He probably thinks I am going to run.

If I were smart, I probably would.

My seventeenth birthday pa.s.ses with little fanfare. Joe offers to throw me a "birthday party to end all birthday parties" but I can't muster the energy for such a thing, so instead I opt for eating a bowl of ice cream and a cupcake in front my MacBook while on a Skype call with my mom and Jonathan. I open the packages they sent in front of them. Mom's gift is a painting of the view of Ellis from the front windows of Paradise Plants that she'd done with oils on Masonite board.

"Hang it over your bed so you'll dream of home," she says.

I smile even though Ellis has never been what I want my dreams to be made of.

Jonathan's gift is a collection of romance novels. "You're lacking a mysterious man in your life," he says. "I was hoping we'd get a lot more juicy stories after shipping you off to that fancy-schmancy school. You haven't dated any celebrities or kissed any princes and neglected to tell us about it yet, have you?"

It takes all of my nerve not to tell them right then and there what is going on with Prince Haden, and our plans to sneak out of town to consult this Oracle lady. But I can't. Because when I get all this Cypher c.r.a.p straightened out, and send Haden packing to the underworld on his own, I'm going to go back to my life in Olympus Hills and following my plan to become a music star. But if my mom gets one whiff of any of this underworld business before I can squash it, any chance of me having a life outside Ellis will be over. She'd probably lock me up in our house until I'm old and gray. And I am not going to let that happen.

"No interesting encounters to report," I lie through my teeth.

"Well, get on it, girlie," Jonathan says. "Some of us have to live vicariously through you." I laugh uneasily, but my mom punches him playfully in the arm. "Don't encourage her," she says. "We want Daphne to come back, remember?"

I smile, tears p.r.i.c.king at my eyes, and I wish there was a way to hug them both through the computer.

The night after my last final, I pack my bag as if I am headed for Ellis Fields instead of some undisclosed location with a supernatural boy I barely know. I'm worrying about how I am going to convince Joe when I come down for breakfast that I don't need a ride to the airport-I'll pretend to take a cab-and get to Haden's house instead, but it turns out I don't have to.

There's a note in Marta's handwriting explaining that she and Joe have gone to LA so Joe can lay down some more tracks for a new alb.u.m. It says not to expect them back before I have to leave, and that a car service will take me to the airport. Even though it makes sneaking away easier, I admit that I am hurt that Joe didn't bother to see me off. It feels like I've barely seen him since the festival, what with all my studying and all the trips into LA he's been taking to work with his band. Maybe I should have let him throw me that party.

I call the number for the car service on my itinerary and cancel the driver.

With that obstacle down, I make a piece of toast and shove a couple of water bottles into my bag. I don't know where we are going yet, but Dax had alluded to the fact that the trip might take more than a full day. I've got enough packed in case, but the idea of staying overnight in some strange town with Haden makes me shiver.

My phone rings. It's Tobin once again. He's been so busy researching the names of the different Lords who have lived in Olympus Hills-to little avail-that he hasn't really noticed that I've been avoiding him. As much as I want to answer and tell him everything I've learned since the night of the festival, I don't. Number one, because then it would make all of this seem real and not just like a crazy fever dream I'll wake up from in a few minutes. And number two, because it means I have to tell him what I've learned about Abbie and I'm just not ready to do that yet. I can't, because then that will be real, too.

I let the call go to voice mail, but he doesn't give up. While I'm finishing getting ready to leave, he calls two more times, and then sends a text.

Tobin: 911! I must show you something. Call me!

I wonder if he's found another bit of information that I can't tell him will lead to another dead end, but I decide to respond or he's probably not going to stop all day.

Me: Can't talk now.

Tobin: Then I'm sending it to you.

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes again. He's texted me a picture. It's of a list of names.

Me: ?

Tobin: That's the list of names of girls who've gone missing from town. The one in my mom's files. I went to double-check it last night to make sure I didn't miss anything . . . and I saw that a new name has been added. Look at the bottom of the list. . . .

I enlarge the picture and scan through the typewritten names- and then land on the name Daphne Raines written in crisp, clean handwriting at the bottom.

Tobin: Your name is on a list of with a bunch of missing girls! What does that mean?

I know exactly what it means. The mayor-Tobin's mother- isn't only aware of the girls going missing in her town; she is complicit in letting it happen beforehand.

But I can't tell Tobin this right now. I can't tell him via text-or phone call, even-that his sister is dead and his parent is somehow involved in what happened. I can't think of a worse betrayal than that.

A new text comes in, but this time it's not from Tobin. Haden: Are you ready to go? I can be there in fifteen minutes.

Talking to Tobin will have to wait until I get back. I send him a text.

Me: I really can't talk about this now. Call you later.

And then I send a text to Haden, telling him I'm on my way over to his place. I know I could wait for him to come pick me up, but I can't stand the thought. I don't want to sit around waiting one more minute. I need to be moving. Maybe I'm crazy for going anywhere with an underworld prince who's full-on admitted that he wants to steal me away. Maybe I'm crazy for thinking I can change his mind.

But I have to do everything in my power to try.

Haden is loading a duffle bag into a Tesla Model X in his garage, which is almost as ma.s.sive as Joe's. It's a strange car, with three rows of seats and doors that raise up like falcon wings instead of opening outward. Haden nods when he sees me, and an expression of relief crosses his face-as if he'd convinced himself I wasn't really coming.

He takes my suitcase and places it in the trunk next to his. "Where's your Model S?" I ask, referring to the car he usually drives. It had kind of become synonymous with him in my mind. His electric black chariot . . .

"Dax took it out this morning," he says. I can tell by his tone that things are still strained between the two of them. "I almost stole his Roadster but figured this car would be more comfortable for a longer journey."

"So Dax isn't coming with us?" I wasn't sure if he would, but I had kind of liked the idea of having a buffer in the car.

"He said something like, 'This is your journey to take, Haden.'" "How very Gandalfy of him." Haden raises his eyebrows like he has no idea what I've just said. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." I look around the garage. "Did he give you the information?"

"Yes." He hands me a slip of paper.

I open it up. "Seriously?" I laugh but it sounds more like a groan.

"What?"

"Sarah Smith. Las Vegas, Nevada. That's all he told you?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Only because there are probably, like, a hundred or more Sarah Smiths in Las Vegas!" When Dax told me he could give me a name and a town, I had pictured something more like Ellis. You can walk into any shop on Main Street and give any shopkeeper the name of any resident and you can get step-by-step directions to their house. "Vegas is huge and Sarah Smith has to be one of the most generic names in the world. You sure Dax isn't yanking your chain?"

"He wasn't yanking anything," Haden says.

I raise my eyebrows this time.

"Oh. I mean, he was quite earnest when he gave it to me."

"Okay, sparky. We better get on it, then. I'll start making phone calls to every S. Smith in the Las Vegas phone directory while you drive."

"Just one last thing," Haden says. He opens his duffle bag and riffles around in the contents, then zips it back up without taking anything out.

"What was that for?"

"Just making sure we didn't have a stowaway. Brim wasn't too happy when I told her she couldn't come."

"That's too bad." Even taking a cat along would feel a little less awkward than the two of us on the road together. Alone. To Las Vegas.

"Believe me, sharing close quarters, like a car, with a h.e.l.lcat is not a good idea. I should know; I've had to keep her hidden from Simon in my room for the last three months."