intern on the floor worked pretty closely with Mom? Dr. Hensley? Henley? Whatever.”
“Emma? She left something for me?” Wendy reached out. “What’s it say?”
Chel frowned. “How should I know? I don’t read people’s mail. Anyway, she got transferred or something and left this. You really attract the psychos, don’t you?” Wendy took the envelope and tucked it into her pocket. She’d worry about reading another goodbye later. Right now learning as much as possible about Eddie and her mother was more important, even if Emma Henley had been a truly nice person.
When Chel left, Piotr drifted through the wall and sat on the edge of the bed, expression grave. “You are right, your mother’s soul is gone.”
“Of course I’m right,” Wendy murmured. “Souls are sort of my thing now, I’m not a total newb.”
“But she’s different than Eddie in one major way,” Piotr added. “Look at her navel.”
Confused, Wendy glanced down. It was her mother’s stomach, flat and moving almost imperceptibly as she breathed slowly in and out. “So? What about it?”
“Unlike Eddie, Wendy, your mother has no cord.” He waved his hand over several inches above her body, moving from ribs to pelvis in one smooth sweep. “It’s gone.”
“What? That can’t be…” Wendy’s protest died in her throat. He was right. Eddie’s cord had looked gnawed through, but the remains of it had still been firmly attached to his body, thick and healthy and vibrant. Her mother’s midriff, however, was smooth and bare. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.”
“I’m not surprised. You probably don’t look much at yourself when you’re the Lightbringer, do you? Have you ever stopped and taken a glance at what you look like?”
“Of course not, when I’m like that I’ve got more important things to do than preen in front of a mirror,” Wendy snapped.
“Wendy, when you’re the Lightbringer, you don’t have a cord either.”
“That’s because I’m alive, though, right?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s so much mystery surrounding what you do and how you do it, not to mention exactly how long your family has been this way. Maybe the White Lady is right. Maybe you really were too young to be a Lightbringer yet.”
“I hate that I don’t know diddly squat about how all this works,” Wendy said bleakly.
“I have a theory,” Piotr said. “Remember what happened in the park with Specs? He attacked you and pulled your soul out?”
“He was scared—”
“I’m not blaming him, but he did give me an idea. Wendy, I think the reason your family can do the things you do is that maybe your souls are different than other souls. There was no cord when he pulled your soul out; you were just this fragile ball of light. No, not light…Light. And even though your soul was yanked out, you were still conscious. You could sense what was going on around you, you even understood that I put your soul back inside your body.”
“Right? So…”
“Both Specs and I knew that we could break you, Wendy. It was…instinctual. Perhaps this is what happened to your mother? I think the Lost didn’t pull her out whole. I think the reason you couldn’t find your mother no matter how hard you looked is because her soul was a ball, a glowing ball of Light just like yours.”
Piotr hesitated, not wanting to finish the last part of his theory but knowing that he had to, even if it hurt her. “And Wendy? I think it’s entirely possible that when the Lost saw your mother they panicked, pulled your mother’s soul out…and that they might have broken it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dropping off the twins was easier than Wendy had anticipated; she’d expected Jon or Chel to protest Wendy’s announcement that she didn’t feel like spending the night, but neither of them said a word. They merely collected their duffle bags, hugged her goodbye, and trooped up the steps to Nana’s front door. When the door shut behind them Piotr slid into the passenger side seat.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“Yep,” Wendy replied, pulling out of her grandmother’s driveway and onto the street. Experience with the route made the return drive automatic; Wendy reached the highway in a fugue-like state. “I’m thinking thoughts.”
“Would you care to share?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Not really. A little.”
“That’s clear.”
“Look, Piotr, give me a break. You think my mom’s soul got broken apart. The White Lady claims
“So what’s next?” Piotr asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “The ball, as they say, appears to be in our court.”
“We do as she said,” Wendy said after long seconds of silence. “You and I go visit her at the Palace Hotel. She has this all planned out, so I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
Startled, Piotr struggled to find a reply. “You’re not serious?”
“I am.” Wendy floored the gas and the little sedan leapt onto the highway with a short grumble of the engine. Glancing into her mirrors, Wendy slid into the middle lane; carpooling was out now, even if Piotr was sitting next to her. A cop certainly wouldn’t believe her if she claimed that a ghost was riding shotgun.
“Your big plan is to hand me over to her?” Betrayal colored the words with bitterness.
“No, my big plan was to use you as bait,” Wendy replied shortly. “It’s almost three. Think we should take the bridge? I’m worried about traffic.”
“Take the bridge, it’s not bad this time of day,” Piotr agreed absently. “Bait? You really think the White Lady is going to fall for that?”
“Not really,” Wendy snapped, scooting between a semi and a Honda with a severely cracked windshield. The driver was hunched over, peering between the spiderweb of cracks and the pouring rain. “But that’s why I changed my plan. She thinks I’m just going to show up at midnight with you in tow, then she’s got another thing coming.” Wendy, exasperated, tapped the horn. “Get off the road!” she yelled. “Geeze, that’s a car wreck waiting to happen.”
“Wendy,” Piotr said patiently. “I want you to talk to me.”
“I am talking to you,” she replied, picking and choosing her words with care. “I’m also driving in some nasty weather, which, if you recall, was how I met you in the first place. So if you don’t mind cutting me just a little slack, I’d appreciate it, thanks.” Sitting up straighter in her seat, Wendy began to haltingly outline her plan for the White Lady. They just had to make one stop first.
“Petey, you’re loonier than a loony tune,” Elle exclaimed an hour later as Piotr finished detailing the finer points of Wendy’s idea. “If you was smart, you’d tell this dumb dora to dry up and beat it.”
Wendy, who’d promised to be silent while Piotr spoke with the other Riders, stiffened at the insult, but was true to her promise and kept silent. Sensing her discomfort, Lily rose with arms outspread.
“Elle,” she protested, “Wendy’s plan has merit. We are warriors, are we not? And yet we have done little these past months but mourn our fallen and weep for what we have lost. There has been no counting coup! Is it not time to step forward and embrace this chance for retaliation destiny has laid upon our doorstep? Much time has passed; likely the White Lady will not expect a joining of our forces, especially after the recent fragmentation of our tribe. I say we aid Piotr and Wendy—”
“The Lightbringer,” James interjected, bitterly.
“Wendy is her given name, the Lightbringer is her duty,” Lily insisted, “and I agree with Wendy’s assessment of this opportunity. Now is the time to strike!”
Elle slapped the wall. “Spoken like a true live wire, Pocahontas, but the thing is, I don’t wanna be left holding the bag when this double-crossing tomato gets the lot of us pinched by the White Lady or her Walkers. She already
