Unchosen. Part 12

~from Keep Thy Soul by Benjamin Parker.

Chapter 10.

I IMMEDIATELY RECOGNIZED the black cube that Ally had described earlier, when we'd been at the hospital. The obsidian container was an exact duplicate of the soul box that had been confiscated from my room. I didn't want to touch it, especially not after all the trouble I almost got into for having the last one. If I got caught with another soul box, not even Rosie "Aunt Anput" Nowles would be able to save me.

Ally didn't seem to care too much about the soul box. Instead, she pulled out the other two items: a yellowed letter and three torn books pages, which she unfolded and handed to me. She kept the letter, holding it as though it were a hundred-dollar bill.

I glanced through the pages and skimmed the words. Well, Ally was right, there were notes scribbled in the margins. "Why did she keep this? It looks like homework."

"I think it's a spell."

Ally was smart. Actually, she was one of the smartest people I knew. Um, not that I would tell her that. "What's all this talk about myths then?" I pointed to the top of the page, my fingertip touching the word "myth."

"I haven't had much time to study it," said Ally. "But I think mom figured out a way to derive a necromancy spell from the myth about Anubis and the seventh warrior."

"Holy c.r.a.p!"

Ally looked at me. "What's wrong?"

I had the shivers, and bad. When had the book been stolen from the Nekyia library? Had my mother removed these pages when she was a student there? Or had she found another version of the book somewhere else? "I've been looking for a book called Anubis and The Seventh Warrior."

Ally looked at me sharply.

"Henry has insisted that I find that book."

"The ghoul insisted?" Ally's expression was both curious and suspicious. "That sounds a little un-ghoul-like."

"Henry is not the average ghoul, I guess. I haven't really met any others." I shrugged. "Apparently, he knows quite a bit about our family. But he's been directed to keep all of those confidences." I stared down at the book pages. "What's the myth about?"

"You really hate studying, don't you?"

"Ally, you-"

A knock sounded at the door. We shoved everything into the box and Ally stashed it in her tote seconds before Grandma opened the door. "What are two doing?"

"Commiserating," said Ally.

"I see," said Grandma. Her sharp gaze studied our faces (I think Ally and I were trying too hard to look innocent) and then she glanced at Ally's flowered bag. A small frown creased her lips. "You should eat something before we begin our day. There's a lot to accomplish."

Dutifully, Ally and I followed our grandmother out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Just as I noted the Krispy Kreme box on the table and my mouth started watering, Grandpa arrived from the living room, talking on his cell phone. He ended the call, and smiled at us.

"Good news," he said. "Your father is awake."

"DADDY!" ALLY AND I hurried across the room and hugged our dad. At least, we tried. Wires and railings kept getting in our way. We both pulled back and Ally and I each held one of his hands.

"There're my two favorite girls," said Dad. He sounded hoa.r.s.e and really tired. Even though he was awake and talking, he still looked weak and pale. I wasn't used to seeing my father laid low by anything. He was tough. The man never got sick.

"You doin' okay in school, Molly?"

"Yes, Daddy." I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You look like you could use some coffee." Daddy laughed, which turned into a cough. My heart ached as I watched him try to catch his breath. Eventually he stopped wheezing, and offered me a grin. "Yeah, I could use a cup of Joe, all right. But apparently, they only got orange juice around this place."

"Orange juice is better for you," lectured Ally. "Vitamin C will help you heal faster."

"Eh. I'm all right." He started coughing again, so much so that the nurse who was in the room with us came to his side.

"I think you need to rest, Mr. Bartolucci." She checked the IV, and then she took a syringe and added a clear liquid to the shunt. She saw my concerned look. "It's morphine," she said. "The more he rests, the more he heals. His lungs and throat were badly affected from inhaling smoke. Talking doesn't help him much."

"Oh," I said. I shared a look with Ally, and then we were shuttled out of the room by our grandparents. Bernard and two of his men had accompanied us into the hospital. They waited in the hallway on high alert.

"Bernard, is everything arranged?" asked Grandpa.

"Yes, sir. We are transferring Mr. Bartolucci and his mother to a private wing at the hospital in Reno. He'll have twenty-four hour security."

"Excellent."

"You're taking my dad to Reno?" asked Ally.

"We're taking everybody to Reno. You'll be safer there," said Sandra.

"What about our stuff?" demanded Ally. "And going to school? And what about our house? And Uncle Vinnie?"

"We'll take care of everything," said Sandra, "until your father gets well. Then you can decide what to do. In the meanwhile, there's no reason you can't attend Nekyia Academy-at least until we get everything straightened out."

If the expression on Ally's face was any indication, it looks like she would rather jump into the pit of vipers than go to Reno, or to the Academy. I could almost see the little brain hamsters spinning in their wheels inside her head. Either she was trying to figure a way out of this, or she was trying to figure out how to make the best of it.

"Okay," Ally said. "Will we be able to get any of my clothes?"

My grandmother examined Ally's current outfit: a tie-dyed T-shirt tied the knot at the corner of her head, a light blue skirt that didn't match any of the blues in the shirt, and the pair of black military boots.

I could almost hear Sandra Briarstock's thoughts: We will burn those, and get appropriate clothes. I almost felt sorry for my grandmother. She had yet to come up against the stubborn wall that was Ally Bartolucci.

"We'll go shopping for new clothes," said Grandma. "In fact, we'll happily replace your entire wardrobe."

Ally narrowed her gaze. Then she pushed her gla.s.ses up on her nose. "I have a very particular style."

I laughed. "Uh, no you don't." I glanced at my grandmother. "She buys her clothes from garage sales and thrift stores."

Grandma actually flinched.

"Well, I think there are more important things in the world than whether or not I'm wearing a designer label," defended Ally.

"If you look good, you feel good," I said, quoting Daddy.

Ally actually grinned. "Loser."

"Don't worry, darling," said Sandra. "I'm sure we can adhere to your ... style and upgrade it at the same time. There are certain expectations for how Nekyia students dress themselves. And as a Legacy, you have an even bigger responsibility to be a role model for the other students."

Ally opened her mouth, probably to say something stupid, like how she didn't care what anyone thought of her-and people who followed the popular kids were morons. I put my arm around Ally's shoulder and covered her mouth.

"Ally will be thrilled to go shopping with you, Grandma."

I leaned down and whispered, "Trust me, sis, you will not win. Just shut up, be happy, and let our grandmother spend money on you."

I felt Ally's stiffened shoulders relax. I moved my hand off her mouth and stepped back, offering my grandmother a bright smile.

"Thank you ... um, Grandma," said Ally, sounding almost sincere. "I'm very grateful for your generosity."

Sandra looked extremely pleased with Ally's response. She held out her hand, and Ally took it. They walked down the hallway. Grandpa and I followed, and we took our security entourage with us.

IN THE WEEK that followed, we stayed with my grandparents. Their house was ma.s.sive, so there was plenty of room for all us (and about ten other families, too).

If Nona wasn't at the hospital with Daddy, she was in the kitchen making Italian cookies and pastries, or teaching the in-house chef how to make proper pasta. I'm not sure if the chef felt he needed those lessons, but you don't say no to Nona. She was like my other grandmother, Sandra, in that respect.

Even though I'd rarely been in touch with my Nekyia friends, I did text them when I returned to Reno and updated them about the fire, my dad, and staying with my grandparents. I was relieved when everyone responded, and continued to keep in touch. I hadn't realized how much I missed talking to them. Being cut out of the loop had been hurtful-even though I couldn't blame them for putting distance between us. After all, I'd done the same thing, even though I hadn't meant to exclude them from my life. It's just that so much of it was secret-who was I supposed to share it with?

Sandra and Ally went shopping every day, and they both looked as though they were going off to war. I guess my grandmother won most of the battles because Ally was soon sporting much nicer clothing as well as wearing contacts, and began styling her freshly cut hair. She was, as I had suspected, gorgeous, even with the braces and her klutziness.

I, on the other hand, had been doing homework and training. Same thing, different location. The best part, however, was that Rath was the one kicking my b.u.t.t.

He had watched over my dad in the hospital, and promised that no other reapers had arrived to take my father's soul. That was great news.

On the third morning we awoke in my grandparents' home, Rath showed up at the front door. He met Sandra and Derek, introducing himself as my training instructor from Nekyia, and stating that he would be giving me private instruction until I could return to school and to the training sessions of the Nekros Society. My grandparents seemed pleased about my "proactive att.i.tude" concerning the upcoming Kebechet challenge, even though Rath showing up had nothing to do with my brilliance. Or being proactive.

In the bas.e.m.e.nt of the Briarstock manse was a full gym. In-between spotting me during work-outs and showing me new fight moves, Rath spent a lot of time taking me down to the mat.

Mostly for kissing purposes.

And that was the best part of my day.

The first words he said to me were, "I missed you."

Yeah, I totally melted.

ON THURSDAY, I was snuggled up in one of the living rooms watching Keep Thy Soul. I was well into hour two of the movie. The test was tomorrow, so of course I was watching the movie the day before to keep everything fresh in my mind.

Also, I was a procrastinator.

On the end table, my phone buzzed. I picked up the cell and read the text message from Barbie. I grabbed the DVD player remote, pushed the pause b.u.t.ton, and read the message several times.

Sweet baby Anubis.

My hands started to shake.

Barbie had sent me three little words: Found the book.

Molly's Reaper Diary.

Let Go and Let Anubis.

YOU'VE HEARD THE phrase that the more religious necromancers like to utter: Let go and let Anubis. Okay, sure. If Anubis is around, let him shoulder your grief and your death woes. But what if he's not? What if he totally freaking disappears on you and you don't know why, and you're like, "WHERE ARE YOU, OH MIGHTY ANUBIS?"

Granted, as the daughter of Anubis, I should have a direct line. We share genetics, so it's not like I'm some run-of-the-mill temple priest trading t.i.thes for prayers.

The point is that you might not have G.o.d back-up when you go off into danger. You can't rely on an immortal to show up and save your a.s.s, even if you're related to him. I give you this advice from experience.

So, it's important to have a plan, to have a team, and to have a set of big, bra.s.s b.a.l.l.s.

Clang, clang, babe.

"Evil wins when good reapers do nothing."

~Secret History of Reapers, Author Unknown.

"Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I do not sleep"

~from the poem written by Mary Elizabeth Frye.

Chapter 11.

FOR WHATEVER REASON, Barbie had not informed everyone else about her find. In fact, she insisted that I not tell our other friends-at least not until we had talked face to face. Barbie seemed to have a lot more on her mind than some light reading about Anubis myths.

When Barbie arrived, I briefly introduced her to my grandparents, and then Barbie, Ally, and I headed to the gymnasium. I figured it would be the safest place to talk as well as the easiest to keep a look-out for lurking grown-ups, especially since there was only one way in and out to the bas.e.m.e.nt.

"Are you sure you want to have this conversation with your sister here?" Barbie sounded tense.

"Yeah," I said. "She's in."

She rolled her eyes. "Anyone else you want to invite to the party?" she asked sarcastically.

"One more," I said.

"You're kidding."

"What is with you?" I asked.