Evertrue

Jack had watched me try to feed Cole, and he seemed to figure out quickly why it didn’t work.

I looked at him imploringly.

He registered my expression. “Uh-uh. No. No way.”

“He’s in bad shape, Jack. He’s not even conscious.”

“I don’t care. There is no way I’m letting him feed off me.” Jack sprang to his feet and paced across the room, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

I didn’t say anything else. How could I? I was asking him to give up part of his soul to save the guy who had destroyed our futures.

I watched as Jack’s feet pounded against the carpet. He marched so forcefully that I was surprised he wasn’t shredding the carpet as he went.

He walked one more time to the other side of the room, stopped, and faced the wall. Then his shoulders heaved up and down as he expelled a breath of air.

“I have to,” he said.

I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”

He turned. “Yes. We do. It’s you and me. It’s us. It’s ‘we.’ And ‘we’ have to survive.” He managed a smile. “As long as there’s no tongue.”

“Your lips don’t even have to touch.”

With a determined blaze in his eyes, he crouched beside Cole and brought his face to within a couple of inches of Cole’s mouth and breathed out. Once he had expelled all the air inside his lungs, he raised his head, took another deep breath in, lowered his head, and breathed out again.

The change was immediate in Cole’s cheeks first. The slightest shade of pink returned. His face lost the sickly gray pallor. And then, after the fifth breath, Cole’s eyelids fluttered open.

It took him a moment to focus on the face hanging above him, and when he did, he sprang up into a sitting position and immediately grabbed either side of his head.

“Ow.” He pressed his palms against his temples as if he were trying to hold his head together.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He winced. “I don’t know. What was that?”

Jack, who was now sitting against the bureau panting, jerked his head toward Cole. “What was that? A Shade attacked you. You killed it with a poker. How did you know to do that?”

Cole breathed in and out a few times before going on. “I wasn’t even thinking. I just did what felt natural. I don’t remember even thinking about the poker. I just let my hand do what it wanted to do.”

Jack looked away, shaking his head. I think he was angrier that he’d had to resort to feeding Cole.

Cole turned the poker over in his hands. He reached toward the music stand in the corner of the room and grabbed something small and black off it. He held it against the poker. It stuck. “It’s magnetic. It must be made of iron.”

“So?” I said.

He looked at me. “I don’t know. I just . . . feel like that should mean something. I think iron hurts Shades in their Shade form. That’s why they prefer the ten-Shade bounty hunter form.”

Jack looked at the spot where the Shade had disappeared. “I bet this one was left here as a lookout. He probably alerted the network, which means we don’t have much time.”

Cole stood up. “I’ll look for your heart, but I think I’ll have better luck if the two of you aren’t watching over my shoulder.”

I nodded, and he walked down the hallway.

“Let’s call Jules,” I said. “See if she’s had a chance to talk to my dad. I want to know they’re safe.”

Jack pulled out his phone and dialed, then handed it to me. I didn’t even have to ask her anything. She answered the phone and said, “Your dad’s gone. I told him you’d called me from Los Angeles. I said I thought you were in trouble and that you were staying at a shelter. There are quite a few of them there, so the search should take him at least a few days.”

“What about Tommy?”

“He took Tommy to your aunt’s.”

I released a sigh of relief, satisfied that this wild goose chase would keep my family safe. “Thank you.” We hung up.

I leaned against Jack’s chest and brushed some stray hairs out of my eyes. “Where do we go now? We’re out of money. What are we going to do? Camp?”

Just then Cole called from somewhere in the condo. “I found something!”

We sprang up and raced out of the room and into the kitchen, only to find Cole with a handful of plastic cards in his hand. “I didn’t find the heart, but look. Cards. In my name. Does that mean anything? That’s good, right?”

Jack stared at the credit cards. “Yeah. That’s good. Except for the part about the heart.”

“At least we tried,” I said. “Let’s get out of here before we run into anyone else.”

TWENTY-ONE

NOW

The Surface. Jack’s car.

After we packed a few bags, we drove a half hour west, down Parley’s Canyon, to the larger city of Salt Lake City. Just to make sure everything was as random as possible, we wove through the city center and picked the tenth hotel we saw, a place called Hotel Monaco.

Before we even got to the clerk at the desk, Cole pulled out two of the cards and held them in front of him. It was as if he’d never paid for anything with them before. Like a six-year-old would act if he’d just found them on the floor.

“I’d like to buy a room!” he announced enthusiastically.

“Get a room,” I muttered out of the side of my mouth. “You’d like to get a room.”

“Yes,” Cole said. “A room. Please. I have these.”

Cole shoved both of the cards toward the clerk, surprising him. The clerk looked at the card. “I just need one of those. And a license.”

Cole’s eyes widened slightly, even though his smile remained frozen in place.

I leaned closer to him, keeping my eyes on the clerk, and whispered with my teeth clamped together. “It’s the one with your picture on it.”

“Right,” Cole said, relaxing. He handed the clerk the card.

The clerk started typing on his keyboard.

“Maybe we should get two rooms,” Jack said.

“We can’t leave Cole alone,” I said. “Who knows where he’ll wander in the middle of the night.”

Jack frowned but nodded.

The clerk handed Cole the key. Sixth floor. Two double beds. For now we were safe.

Once inside the room, Jack closed the door behind us, and for the first time in a long time, we all breathed a sigh of relief. Cole flopped down diagonally on the bed farther from the door as if he were at a sleepover and had no cares in the world.

Jack and I both glanced at the other bed, but then Cole scooted over. “Here, Nik. There’s plenty of room.”

Jack’s entire body tensed, so powerfully I expected a resulting energy wave to blast through the room. “No way in hell,” he said, much more calmly than his body language indicated.

Cole didn’t seem to notice Jack’s bulging biceps. He put his hands behind his head and wrinkled his eyebrows. “It’s feeding time. And it’s the most efficient way. That’s obvious, isn’t it?” As if purposely exacerbating the situation, he patted the mattress beside him. “The sooner the better,” he said.

I knew Jack was at his breaking point already with my life on the line and us on the run. I didn’t think he had anything left to hold his jealousy in check. Jack flinched toward Cole, but I put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Jack, remember this is keeping me alive. And it means nothing.”

He sighed and then did something unexpected. He turned around and stormed out of the doorway.

Ten minutes later he stormed back in, grabbed our bags, and went back to the door, holding it open. “We’re switching rooms,” he said. “To one with a king.”

I closed my eyes. A king-size bed. For the three of us. Maybe some adult romance author somewhere was writing the beginning of a similar scene, and maybe that scene was supposed to be hot, but to me it felt like hell.

TWENTY-TWO

NOW

The Surface. Hotel Monaco.

Will met us a while later with his laptop. He glanced at the single king-size bed. “Kinky,” he said.

Jack punched him lightly on the shoulder, nearly sending Will to the floor.

“What did you find?” Jack said.

Will rubbed his shoulder as he walked over to the desk and set down his laptop.

“First off, I found nothing about ‘Cronus Tantalus’ together. But separating the two words, I found a lot. Cronus.” He pointed to his screen. “Cronus was a Titan—offspring of Uranus—Heaven—and Gaia—Earth. He was jealous of his father’s power. His mother also hated Uranus because when she gave birth to this kid that had like a billion hands, or eyes, or something, Uranus hid the kid so he’d never see the light of day. To get back at Uranus, Gaia convinced her son, Cronus, to castrate his own father. She gave him a sickle, and he did the deed.”

Will held up his hands as if he were expecting applause.

Cole, Jack, and I just stared.

“It’s not my fault it’s a horrible story,” Will said. “Myths. They’re all horrible stories.”

“It’s not that,” I said. “It’s just that the words ‘Cronus Tantalus’ were all we had to go on, and I can’t figure out how that story helps us.”

Will shrugged. “What was the Cronus clue in reference to?” he asked.

“Destroying the Shade network,” Jack said.

Will squinted at the computer screen again. “Well, if you want to destroy something, you probably need a strong weapon. . . .” He flipped the screen so that we could all see a drawing of the sickle. “It’s forged out of the toughest stone on Earth. Adamant. And it can supposedly destroy anything.”

I looked at Cole. “Do you think that’s what Ashe was getting at? Telling us about the only thing in the world that would be strong enough to destroy the network?”

He nodded.

“It’s the best theory we’ve got,” Jack said. “But do we know where it is?”

I looked from Jack’s face to Cole’s, to Will’s, hoping that someone would have some sort of input; but the only sound came from the fan in Will’s computer.

“What about Tantalus?” I said.

“Ah,” Will said, typing something into his computer. “This one is a little more obscure. Tantalus was famous for his eternal punishment. He was made to stand in a pool of water under a fruit tree with low-hanging branches. Each time he reached up to pluck some fruit, the branches lifted out of reach. Each time he reached below for water, the water receded. Thus he was always longing for food and water but never getting it. And yes, I used the word thus in a sentence.”

I bit my lip, trying to figure out the significance of the story, but came up with nothing. I expected blank faces all around again, but Cole’s mouth hung slightly open as he stared at the computer screen.

“What is it?” I said to Cole.

“Tantalus,” he said. He turned his head toward me. “I know where the sickle is.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Tantalus is a lake,” Cole said. He squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s a place not many people know about, but Ashe and I know it. I can’t even remember why we do, but we do. I thought the name sounded familiar, but I didn’t make the connection until you mentioned the water.”

I held my breath for a moment, worried that the renewed memory would spark a flood more and that Cole would suddenly realize he didn’t want to destroy the Everneath. But nothing happened.

“It’s in the Ring of Earth,” Cole continued.

“In which Common?” I asked.

“Not in a Common. In the void between Ouros and Limneo.” His eyes went wide as the name Limneo just rolled off his tongue as if he’d known it all along. “Limneo. Another Common, right?”

I nodded and tried to keep his focus on Tantalus before his mind started wandering and remembering other key things.

“So Tantalus,” I said. “You think the sickle might be hidden there?”

Cole smiled. “That’s the thing about Tantalus. Whatever you most desire in the world will be hidden there, but you can only traverse the lake once in your lifetime. We didn’t want to waste it until there was something we really needed.”

Jack and I exchanged glances. “We really need the Sickle of Cronus,” I said.

“Then let’s go get it,” Cole said.

Will wanted to come with us, but Jack convinced him to stay and email Professor Spears, to catch him up on everything we were doing.

We left Will in the hotel room, and Jack drove us to the Shop-n-Go, where the same confused clerk watched with raised eyebrows as we entered the store and walked to the back, then formed a circle, holding hands.

He was probably understanding why Ezra went a little crazy.

This time Cole didn’t hand me a strand of hair.