were at stake.”
“Yeah, it
Fiona’s eyes went wide and her gaze bored into his.
“You owe me,” he said.
It was a rotten card to play on his sister, but Eliot had to. He needed her. . even if it meant she’d be mad at him for the rest of his life.
Fiona hissed through clenched teeth, and it sounded like exploding steam. “You’re going to get yourself and the rest of the team killed.” Shaking her head, she continued. “So, I
Eliot wished he could tell her how much her coming meant to him, but he only managed a nod.
“But we make a beeline straight for Jezebel,” Fiona told him. “Get her if we can and get out. And if things get too dangerous, we stop and turn back.”
“Sure,” Eliot said.
He looked over his teammates and considered telling them everything. They deserved to know all the details of Jezebel and her ties to the land.
He exhaled and shut his mouth.
He wished Mitch were here. His white magic had kept them safe before from the shadows. That would have come in handy. And having him there would have been a great boost to Fiona’s morale.
Robert glanced at his wristwatch. “You said there was a train to catch?”
Eliot stuffed his moral misgivings into a dark corner of his mind to sort through later. “Yeah,” he replied, “there’s a secret entrance to the Night Train under the Market Street BART station.”
Sarah pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll have a cab meet us outside the Front Gate.”
Before Sarah punched a single button, however, another phone jangled: an old-fashioned trilling bell inside Miss Westin’s office.
The sound went straight through Eliot’s skull and down his spine like a shock.
He jumped. And so did Fiona.
They looked at each other. Fiona’s eyes were wide and her pulse pounded along her neck. Both of them went still.
The phone jangled again (he swore this time louder and sounding impatient).
Eliot and Fiona together whispered, “Audrey.”
“She knows,” Fiona said.
Eliot wasn’t sure how they knew it was Audrey, or how they knew she knew what they were about to attempt. . but he knew that feeling was right. Why else would she be calling Miss Westin at this
There was a third ring-although this one terminated mid-jangle.
Eliot breathed a sigh of relief.
But an instant later, from inside Fiona’s book bag came the stirring notes of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.” Her cell phone’s ring tone.
“Don’t answer it,” Eliot said.
Fiona pursed her lips, and he could see her mentally teetering back and forth, deciding. . but then she nodded.
“Come on,” he told them all, “we don’t have much time.” He sprinted for the stairs.
They followed, running as if the building were on fire.
________
Eliot stared at the sign hung on the ticket booth window. He couldn’t believe it. All that convincing and cajoling, all the struggling to overcome the moral ambiguity of the situation. . for nothing.
They’d ditched class, run out of Paxington, and caught one of the eco-friendly SF Green Cabs. (A wad of cash from Robert persuaded the driver to let them all squeeze in.)
They’d gotten to the Market Street BART station, tromped down the out-of-order escalator, and found the hole in the wall. After carefully crossing the tracks, they’d entered the breach and clambered down the steep staircase into the hidden Infernal train station.
Only to find the ticket booth abandoned, and a sign that read
“Rotten luck,” Jeremy said, reading over Eliot’s shoulder. “I suppose our dear Jezebel will have to fend for herself.” There was genuine disappointment in his voice.
“But there’s another way,” Fiona said. She stared at Eliot. “And you’re going to try it, aren’t you? No matter how dangerous it is.”
“I am,” he said. “Even if it is the long way around.”
“What do you mean ‘dangerous’ and ‘long way’?” Amanda asked, her fingers worrying together.
Fiona held up a hand to forestall questions, got her cell phone, and dialed. She handed it to Eliot.
“She said she’d give us a ride if we ever needed one,” Fiona told him. “But
Eliot scanned the number and name just before the phone connected.
“Hi? Aunt Dallas? It’s Eliot and Fiona. We kind of need a lift.”
Fiona rolled her eyes at this colossal understatement.
“Really? Thanks. Where? I can explain on the way. Oh, uh, okay. . well, Uncle Kino’s graveyard. The Little Chicken Gate.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, so Eliot continued, “I need you to keep quiet about it. Yes-I’ll explain everything. Outside the BART station on Market Street. Okay. Thanks again. Bye.”
He handed the phone back to Fiona.
“She’s picking us up in five minutes,” Eliot said.
“And taking us where?” Robert asked, looking concerned for the first time since agreeing to go.
Eliot swallowed, and then replied, “The Lands of the Dead.”
Fiona tried to scrunch down low so no one would see her as Aunt Dallas turned her 1968 VW van into Presidio Park.
Talk about embarrassing. Even in San Francisco, the van got looks. It was painted in tie-dye swirls, and over that were plastered decals of cherry and peach blossoms. It looked like the van had tumbled through an orchard and then thrown up rainbows. It also left a litter of real flowers in its wake.
Dallas kept well below the posted speed limit as they wound along the streets, creeping past a funeral in progress.
Fiona didn’t see any of the roads Uncle Kino had used. . and wondered if she’d ever have found her way back to the entrance of the Lands of the Dead by herself.
She glanced to the front passenger’s seat, where Dallas had insisted Eliot sit (much to Jeremy’s disappointment). Eliot scrutinized every tree and tombstone, leaning forward and searching.
Fiona hoped Eliot survived this attempt at heroics,
Fiona shifted in her seat.
By some unfortunate quirk, she sat next to Jeremy and Sarah on the middle bench of the van. Jeremy slid into her at every turn, no matter how slight.
Behind them, Robert stretched out, and Amanda had wedged herself in a corner of the backseat.
