Vault of Shadows (23 page)

It was the plaintive howl of a wolf.

Somehow, hearing that sound and seeing it come from the lips of a normal-looking girl reinforced the strangeness of it. Milo would not have reacted with such unease had she howled like that while in wolf form.

Shark actually
yeeped
again and jumped backward.

Evangelyne ended her call, took a breath, and sighed, her shoulders sagging. But she was nodding to herself.

“What if the Bugs heard that?” whispered Shark, clearly alarmed.

“Then they would think it was a wolf,” Evangelyne said simply. “And they would waste a lot of time looking for one. Besides . . . you may know the science of circuits and alien tech, but I know acoustics. Unless I howled more than once, no Bugs would ever be able to find me. Not if I sent it up to the winds in just the right way.”

“Okay,” said Shark, “that is both really, really cool and really, really creepy.”

Evangelyne smiled faintly, but Milo thought she was pleased, perhaps by both parts of Shark's observation.

“Will Mook be able to find us, though?” he asked.

“Of course. Mook is Mook.”

“Couldn't be clearer than that,” said Shark to himself.

“Others, too,” said Evangelyne. “If we're lucky.” She did not elaborate.

“I think Oakenayl's around here somewhere,” said Milo. “I'm pretty sure I saw him in the clearing where I saw my dad . . . I mean, where I met that holo-man.” Milo saw her look of confusion and he quickly filled her in on the new and utterly horrifying tech being used by the Dissosterin.

“That is quite dreadful,” she said. “They made you see your dead father?”

“Hey, my dad's not dead,” insisted Milo, immediately angry. “The holo-guy was dead. This was some kind of weird mind-projecting. Don't you go saying my dad's dead.”

“I'm sorry,”
she replied quickly. “I only meant that it was a cowardly and appalling thing for them to do.”

“Because up till now,” said Shark dryly, “they've been so nice and fuzzy with everyone.”

“Hey, guys, let's stay on the subject here,” snapped Milo. “I saw Oakenayl. Or at least I'm pretty sure I did.”

Evangelyne frowned. “I . . . don't think so. He promised me he would protect the Hummingbird Grove.”

“The what?”

The wolf girl flushed. “No. Forget I said that.”

“Too late,” said Shark. “Hummingbird Grove? Let me guess, that's where Halfpint is hiding out until she recovers.”

“Halflight,” said Evangelyne and Milo at once.

“Right. Whatever. That's where she's at, right? And it's some big secret Nightsider place that we Daytimers aren't allowed to see. Tell me I'm wrong.”

“Daylighters,” corrected Evangelyne, “and yes. But no, I won't talk about it. Some places are sacred to us—different places for each of the Nightsider clans. The Hummingbird Grove is one of the most sacred places of the fire sprites, and believe me, Oakenayl will defend it to his last leaf, his last drop of sap.”

Shark opened his mouth, clearly intending to make a joke, but Milo cut him off. “Okay,” he said, pointing the way he'd come, “then who did I see in the woods? It was definitely a tree face. Are you saying there's others like Oakenayl around somewhere?”

“Yeah,” agreed Shark, “I
thought they all left and that's why there's only a couple of you still here.”

Evangelyne shook her head. “No. Most of the Nightsiders departed for the worlds of shadow. My family left. So did Mook's and Oakenayl's. Most of them, anyway. There are always some relatives—cousins, distant uncles and aunts—who linger, but we can't assume they are our friends, just like we can't assume the
Aes Sídhe
are.”

“The who?” asked Shark.

“Tell you later,” Milo said quickly.

An owl hooted in the night and all three of them—and Killer—paused to listen.

“Burrowing owl,” said Shark, and Milo nodded. “A real one, I think.”

It was common for Earth Alliance soldiers to use bird calls for communication. So far, at least, the Bugs did not seem able to tell the difference between real bird calls and faked ones. The owl hooted again.

“It's real,” agreed Evangelyne, relaxing a fraction. “Nothing to worry about. We're safe.”

Milo remembered how real the holo-man had looked and sounded. “Not sure we're ever going to be safe again.”

Shark and Evangelyne nodded, accepting that hard truth.

The moon seemed to have chased all the clouds from the sky.

“The night is burning,” said Evangelyne as she carefully returned the Heart of Darkness to its pouch. “I don't
know how long the jewel can be broken before it's dead.”

“Dead?” echoed Milo, and he remembered the feeling he'd had when he first heard about the damage to the stone. It was like listening to the heartbeat of someone fading toward permanent blackness. “What do you mean, dead? Is it actually
alive
?”

She looked at him as if he had just asked something intensely stupid. “Of course it is.”

“Ah,” said Shark, “just when I thought things couldn't actually get freakier.”

“Where exactly are we going?” asked Shark. “I mean, if this Gadfellyn Hall kid is dead, are we supposed to go to a cemetery and dig up his bones? And if so, then what?”

“Don't be absurd.”

“I'm not,” he said defensively. “I'm just trying to understand the rules here.”

Evangelyne thought about that, then nodded. “Fair enough. The boy known as the Heir lived in a mansion—”

“Gadfellyn Hall, got that,” said Shark. “Is this an
actual
place? One we can touch?”

“It hides behind a real place. Or maybe it
haunts
a real place. I'm not sure how to explain it. We can find where it was. I saw it once. There is an old antiques store there now, and that is very real. Bricks and stone and glass, if the Bugs haven't destroyed it.”

Shark blew out his cheeks. “That's something.”

“Where is it?” asked Milo, excited.

She gestured toward the water. “Over there. In New Orleans.”

Shark winced. “In New Orleans?”

“Yes.”

“The, um, same New Orleans where the Bugs have a hive ship?”

“Yes.”

“The hive ship that
we
nearly wrecked? The one we stole the crystal egg from?”

She raised her chin. “Yes.”

“In a city crawling with about a million shocktroopers?”

“Yes,” she said once more. “Why so many stupid questions? Are you afraid?”

“Oh, I'm way past afraid. I'm all the way over into epic terror,” said Shark. “Want to know why? Because I'm not stupid. Oh, and because I'm not actually out of my mind.”

“Like I said, you don't have to come.”

Shark actually laughed. “Ha! Nice try, but I wouldn't miss this for the world.”

Milo didn't look at him, worried he'd see the wild look in his friend's eyes. He wondered if it was in his own. He closed his eyes and rubbed them, then yawned so wide his jaws creaked.

“God, is this still the same day?”

Shark nodded. “And it ain't over yet.”

“I'm so tired I could sleep forever.” He yawned again. His whole body felt heavy and there was a weird little
fluttering feeling inside his chest. Too much adrenaline, too much exertion and fear, not enough rest. Milo knew that he was in absolutely no condition to set out on any kind of journey. Not a hunt, not a rescue mission, not some kind of bizarre heroic quest to find a magic mansion in a city dominated by creatures who wanted to kill him. He could feel Shark and Killer watching him.

He said, “Let's get moving.”

FROM MILO'S DREAM DIARY

Writing down the story that I dreamed . . .

The boy read every book in the library. Every single one.

And then he read them all again.

When he was done, he went looking for more books. A white rabbit hopped out of the shadows, and the boy followed it through a doorway behind a doorway that was behind another doorway. And there, beyond that, were more books.

So many more.

Too many to count.

But not too many to read.

No, not too many for him to read. After all, he had all the time in the world.

G
etting from St. Tammany Wildlife Refuge to New Orleans meant going halfway around Lake Pontchartrain. Without a skimmer or the red ship, and with the causeway, Route 11, and Interstate 10 bridges long since destroyed, they were looking at a hike of fifty-five miles. If they pushed on without a break, it would be a minimum of eighteen hours.

That was best-case scenario, and Milo knew better than to plan around things going smoothly. The reality, given what was happening in their lives, was something else entirely. Moving with caution, avoiding Bugs and their hunter-killers, steering clear of well-known Dissosterin patrol zones, and keeping to the cover of the woods and overgrown places would stretch the journey. Milo did the math in his head and predicted that it would take them at least two full days, allowing for a few three-hour breaks for catnaps and food. And the circuitous route would be closer to eighty miles.

He shared this with Shark and Evangelyne, who nodded fatalistically, accepting the hard truth as their only truth.

Two miles into their walk they encountered Mook. The rock boy simply stepped out of the shadows and fell into step with them as if this were all normal. Shark and Milo exchanged a look, shrugged, and kept walking.

They'd covered only four miles before Shark said, “Look, guys, I'm all for plowing ahead and getting as far as we can, but I got to tell you—I'm beat. This has been an insane day. I think we should find a dry spot, eat something, get some sleep, and then start out bright and early.”

Evangelyne clearly wanted to argue, but she'd been limping heavily and lagging behind, so she made a sour face and nodded. “Very well. But once we start out tomorrow, we push on as far and fast as we can.”

“Absolutely,” said Shark, in a way that Milo interpreted as “We'll see how that works.”

They found a safe spot, shared dried meat and water. Mook moved off into the darkest shadows to stand guard while Milo brought Shark up to speed on everything that had happened that morning: Queen Mab and her dark faeries, the toadstool ring, and the Huntsman's experimenting with magic. Shark listened in open-mouthed horror and frequently cut looks at Evangelyne, who nodded to indicate Milo was telling the truth.

Finally Shark cut him off. “No, wait, wait . . . you said this was a circle of mushrooms? On that path you took this morning? Oh, man . . . oh, man . . .” Shark's face had gone milk white.

“What is it?” demanded Evangelyne.

“What's wrong?”
asked Milo, suddenly very alarmed.

“Lizzie!” said Shark.

“What about her?”

“That's where I found her.”

“What are you talking about?”

Shark was blinking rapidly as if he'd been punched. “This morning, I told you she went off into the woods and I found her.”

“Sure,” agreed Milo, “you said she walked into a tree.”

“That's what she said, but that's not what I mean. It's
where
I found her. She was in a clearing, totally unconscious, lying
inside a circle of mushrooms.
”

Evangelyne grabbed his arm with both hands. Her eyes were wild. “What? What did you say?”

“It's the truth. That's where I found her.”

“Where? How? Tell me everything.”

Shark looked scared. “There's not a lot to tell. I was checking the woods and I saw Lizzie lying beside some of that junk the Bugs dropped and—”

“Which junk?” interrupted Milo.

“The food cart. You must have passed it when you went down to the bayou.”

The image of the cart with its demand written in bloodred letters was vivid in Milo's mind.

“Lizzie was there?” he asked weakly.

“Near there, sure. I saw her and at first I thought she was crawling around to try to scavenge something, but then I realized she wasn't moving. I ran over and checked her.
She woke up, but she was really out of it and said she must have walked into a tree. She had some bruises on her face and her clothes were all messed up, but she didn't look really hurt. Not hurt hurt, you know? Just dazed.”

“What about the toadstools?” urged Evangelyne.

“I didn't notice them at first,” explained Shark. “I was focused on Lizzie, you know? It was only after I helped her up that I saw there were a bunch of them growing in a circle. A pretty regular circle, which is kind of weird.”

“Tell me about how you felt,” snapped Evangelyne. “What did you feel?”

“Was the air really cold?” asked Milo. “Like it was around the pyramid we found? The one the Heart of Darkness was in?”

“No . . . I don't think so,” said Shark slowly. “Or at least I didn't notice.”

“Was she entirely inside the circle?” asked Evangelyne.

Shark had to think about that. “Not really. Only her legs. The rest of her was outside on the grass. A couple of the mushrooms were smashed like maybe she'd kicked them. Now, come on, Vangie, what's all this mean? Did something happen? Is that why Lizzie's been acting so freaky?”

Evangelyne looked very worried. “Where was this? Exactly, I mean?”

Shark dug a laminated map from a belt pouch and spread it out on the ground. Then he shifted out of the
way to allow the bright moonlight to fall on it. Shark and Milo both pointed to the same spot.

“Right there,” said Milo.

“Yup,” said Shark.

“Goddess of Shadows,” breathed Evangelyne. “That is the grove of the shrine.”

“What grove of which shrine?” demanded Shark.