The Dragon's Tooth

been kind to you. But when I am gone, test the keys and see if I am wrong. Soak them in water or try any lock you can find. Between one or the other of those keys, no door will remain closed to you.” He grew suddenly stern. “But use them honestly, Cyrus Smith. Solomon Keys have made thieves of many good men, and having made them thieves, it is never long before those keys unlock a door that leads only to death.”

Patricia adjusted herself invisibly on Cyrus’s neck. Her cool body tickled.

Cyrus swallowed, tucking his hands beneath his legs to keep them down. The big man’s dark eyes were still on him, reading Cyrus’s face.

Greeves began to stand. “I will leave you now.”

“No!” Antigone yelped. “No, no!” She stopped and collected herself. “Could you tell us more about our father first, about our family? Please. We didn’t even know that he had sisters. Did you know them?”

Greeves eased himself back down.

With nervous fingers, Antigone tucked her hair behind her ears. “And the guy with the tiny mustache said our dad got kicked out of this place. Why? What did he do?”

Patricia moved again, and Cyrus grabbed at her while Greeves watched his sister. For a moment, her silver body twisted in the air, and then she was gone, wrapped tightly around Cyrus’s hand. The keys rested in his palm. With his free hand, he scratched at his itching neck. Tiny blisters broke beneath his nails.

Rupert glanced at him and turned back to Antigone. “Your father was expelled, yes. And yes, I knew him. And I knew his sisters.”

Rupert’s eyes emptied, and he stared out of the hole at the Polygon’s plank pathways. His deep, accented voice rolled up quietly from his chest.

“We met when we were eight. I had just come from England for my first time. We often competed, as had our fathers and our grandfathers. We were rivals, but only until I realized that we were not.” Greeves almost smiled. “Lawrence was not unhappy if I beat him — not if the sun shone on the waves, and the wind was kissing the water. In mood, I was a shark, he was a dolphin. And the dolphin overpowered me.

“By the age of ten, we were brothers in soul. Our families contracted the same tutors, but as we could not both be the best of the Acolytes at everything, we chose to alternate victories. He at fencing, I at shooting, he at diving, I at flying, and so on. Our tutors would have been furious if they’d known.

“When my brother and Lawrence’s sisters disappeared, our bond grew even stronger. When his older brother was killed in the Congo, again we grew closer. My own parents died in a plane crash in Ethiopia. His parents died of slow grief, mourning his siblings. In a few short years, he was the beginning and end of my family, and I of his. Together, we became Journeymen and then Explorers. We walked the world searching out the deepest shadows, the darkest evils. Though we never spoke of it, I knew we were both searching for death.

“But then, more than twenty years ago, on the verge of rising to Keeper, we trekked into the mountain jungles of Guiana in northern Brazil. We barely escaped.”

Cyrus watched Rupert’s calloused hand reach for the open collar of his shirt and the tangled scars on his chest.

“But we did escape, and we returned to Ashtown with many strange things. The strangest of all was your mother.”

“What?” Cyrus sat up. “What do you mean?”

“Her name was Cataan — the name of her people. She became Katie to us, and bringing her back to Ashtown was a direct violation of modern Order policies. To make things worse, your father wanted to marry her. The Sages were amenable, but the Keepers absolutely refused to sanction the union. For the first time, your father and I grew apart. Lawrence defied the Order, and was befriended by other defiant elements as a result — Skelton became his confidant. He married Katie and lost everything. After centuries, the Smiths were gone from the Order. Until now.”

“You’re telling the truth?” Antigone asked. “This is real?”

“It is,” said Greeves.

“We knew Mom was Brazilian.” Antigone looked at her brother. “But I thought they met when she was a student.”

“Oh, she was a student. But she’s not Brazilian.” Rupert rose to his feet. “She is Cataan — one of the daughters of an ancient and forgotten people. Look at your hair. Look at your skin. They are her gifts to you.” He smiled and stepped toward the hole. “Good night.”

“Wait,” Antigone said. “Don’t just leave. Can’t you tell us the whole story?”

Greeves stopped, and for a moment, his pointed beard hung beneath a wide grin. “Good night,” he said again, and the smile was gone. “I have a hunt to join.”

Antigone jumped to her feet. “You said our dad had an older brother, too. What was his name?”

“Daniel,” Rupert said. “Your uncle’s name was Daniel.” Ducking his shorn head out the hole, Greeves disappeared. Planks rattled beneath his weight.

“Cyrus …” Antigone turned slowly to face her brother. Her eyes were wide.

“What do you want me to say?” Cyrus asked. “No wonder that kid in the hall called us primitives.”

“Should I douse the lights?” Rupert’s voice echoed through the hole.

“No!” Antigone sat back down and her legs began bouncing.

“Go ahead!” Cyrus yelled.

“Fine!” Antigone yelled. “Thanks for the blankets.”

The lights throughout the Polygon punched off. Only the little lanterns in the center of the small crypt remained, glowing dull orange.

The big door boomed shut.

Antigone stood and tucked a fresh pillow beneath Nolan’s sweat-soaked head. Then, grabbing Cyrus by the arm, she pulled him to his feet.

Together, wordless, minds chewing, they emptied two of the other alcoves as completely and as neatly as they could. Blankets were folded. Blankets were spread. Pillows were placed, and two new beds were born. With the piles of pillows from Greeves and Nolan, cold stone became comfortable. Antigone turned off two of Nolan’s three lanterns.

Out in the darkness, Whip Spiders roamed free, clicking as they crept, clattering as they fell from oiled walls. Beneath his blanket, Cyrus stared at the ceiling.

“Cy,” Antigone said quietly. “We’re not from California.” She rolled up onto her side, facing her brother across the room. “We’re from here.”

Cyrus felt anger surge through him, but he clamped his mouth shut. He wanted to be tired. He didn’t want to think.

“Cyrus? Seriously, two aunts, an uncle, grandparents? This is where we’re supposed to be.”

Cyrus forced his jaw to relax. “Night, Tigs,” he said, and he turned his face to the wall.

“Cyrus, you are not going to sleep right now, and you are going to talk about this. This isn’t a math test that you won’t show me, or an English paper that — for some absurd reason — you feel the need to sink in a creek.”

Nolan snored. Cyrus heard Antigone sit back up. A shoe bounced off Cyrus’s shoulder blades. He didn’t move.

“Will you sit up and stop acting like you do at school, please? This is me, not some grief counselor. All this stuff … Cy, it changes who we are.”

Cyrus pressed his forehead against the stone and let the cold tighten his skin. “No, it doesn’t, Tigs. I am who I am. I’m not changing, and I’m not talking about it.”

His sister sputtered and her blankets rustled. She was giving up.

“You shouldn’t have lied to Greeves about the tooth. Do you even want it? What good’s it going to do?”

She was right. Why did he need the tooth? For a trade? No. He’d passed on that already. Did he want to raise the dead? No. Yes. But he didn’t know how he would even start. His father had been lost at sea. Beneath his blanket, he gripped the keys against his wrist. The metal sheath was warm. He clicked it open and closed his hand around the tooth. A cold current shot up through his arm. Frozen bone.

“I’ll tell him,” he said quietly. “Okay?”

“When?”

Cyrus inhaled slowly. “Tomorrow. Next time I see him. Good enough?”