Starfall Page 23

  “Dominy!” Gwen shouts. “I thought you were still out here with Nadine.”

  Numbly I shake my head. I can’t speak because I see with my own eyes the destruction I left behind. Nadine lying on the floor next to an unmoving and bloodied Miss Ro, both trapped underneath a row of lockers. We all watch in silence as Dumbleavy and Mr. Soto, one of the janitors, lift up the lockers to their rightful position. The entire time they’re working, I can’t take my eyes off of Miss Ro’s face, an expression of horror etched into it.

  When the men are finished, Dumbleavy wordlessly kneels down next to his colleague and friend and closes her eyes with trembling fingers. Gwen and the other girls gathered in the room begin to scream and cry as they grasp the finality of the situation and begin to process the hard fact that Miss Ro is dead. Although I’ve seen death before and even participated in its wrath, this is difficult even for me to take, because I’m partly responsible.

  I try to ignore what Dumbleavy’s saying, but I can’t block out his voice. Every word of the Lord’s Prayer feels like someone is throwing scalding hot water in my face.

  When Dumbleavy finishes, he is beyond weary, but when he speaks, he demands an answer. “Nadine, why would you say that Dominy attacked you?”

  Completely in control, Nadine clutches her swollen belly and commands tears to stream down her face. “No, I didn’t say that,” she lies. “I said it looked like Dominy.”

  “What did?” he asks. “What are you talking about?”

  “The wolf,” she states. “The wolf that attacked us. I can’t explain it, but it looked just like Dominy.”

  “A wolf?!” Dumbleavy cries. “A wolf did . . . this?” More screams from Gwen and the girls, and Mr. Soto ushers them into Miss Ro’s office, away from the madness. But I can’t move; I have to bear witness; I have to watch Nadine show absolutely no remorse for what she’s done, because it convinces me that I made the right decision to not give in and to fight to live. And to help Luba.

  Because if Nadine is capable of killing an innocent woman just because she feels like it, just to prove that she can commit murder in daylight and get away with it, what the hell is she going to do if I’m not around to stop her?

  For better or worse, I have got to work with Luba to put an end to Nadine’s reign of terror once and for all.

  Chapter 20

  Sometimes the wolf and the girl are so different, and sometimes they’re exactly the same.

  It’s been several weeks since Miss Ro’s death, but when I walk past the cemetery, I still avoid looking at her grave. I did the same thing last night when I raced past it in search of food. I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to be reminded that another person had died because of me; I didn’t want another grave to be piled on top of my shoulders. But even without looking I can feel the weight of Miss Ro’s casket pressing down against me. Doesn’t matter if it’s pressing against fur or flesh; I can still feel it.

  A chilly breeze slaps me in the face, and I look up at The Weeping Lady. I didn’t come here for abuse, only silence, but there’s no way I’m going to get any quiet, not with all the thoughts running through my head. Remembering back to that day in the gym, I know that Nadine had it in for Miss Ro. I know that she was chanting something, casting a spell. But if I had only kept my mouth shut, if I had not taunted Nadine, maybe Miss Ro would still be alive. Maybe. Or someone else would be dead. Life doesn’t matter to Nadine—well, only her life and the lives of her twins.

  Another breeze, just as cold, just as sudden, but less explosive. This one caresses my face, soothes it, which makes sense, because I hear my mother’s voice in the air.

  Remember, Dominy, you are blessed.

  Seriously?! Not that again.

  Before the cool air has let go of me, my cell phone rings. It’s Caleb, and I laugh out loud. Okay, Mom, maybe this time you’re right.

  “You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice,” I say.

  “Artemis.”

  Caleb must have speed-dialed the wrong girl.

  “Uh, no, this is Dominy,” I reply. “Your girlfriend.”

  “I know it’s you, Domgirl.” Caleb sighs. “But you’re also Artemis.”

  “Sorry, Caleb, what are you talking about?”

  I can practically see my boyfriend’s head tilt to the side and his unruly curls hang in the air; it’s always the way he looks when he’s annoyed that I don’t understand something he’s talking about.

  “Artemis is the goddess of the moon, she who worships and lives under the power of the moon,” he informs me. “I.e. you.”

  He’s learning some fascinating stuff up there at Big Red.

  “I.e. okay,” I reply. “But I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “According to Greek mythology, which Vera instructed you to brush up on,” he says, reminding me of Vera’s dictate, “Orion was killed by Artemis.”

  Great. I don’t merely help get gym teachers murdered; I also murder gods. Why is this something Vera wants me to know?

  “Is that for real?!” I ask.

  “It is according to myth,” he replies. “And although to most people myth is just myth, we’ve learned that myth can be fact, so, yes, I think this myth is real and not just a myth-nomer. Oh hey! How do you like that? I made up a new word too, just like you!”

  I’ll praise my boyfriend’s increased vocabulary later. Right now I need him to get back to the source material.

  “But why would Vera want me to kill Orion?” I ask. “She’s part of Orion. Is she a suicidal star?”

  “Maybe she isn’t being literal,” Caleb says. “Maybe Vera doesn’t want you to kill all of Orion, but only a part of him, so you can maintain the balance.”

  Not only are my boyfriend’s vocabulary skills improving, but his logic is too. But logic can sometimes be frightening.

  “Caleb, as much as I hate her, I just don’t know if I can kill Nadine,” I whisper, even though the only one listening to my conversation is a tree woman with bark for a tongue. “Now that she’s carrying twins.”

  There’s a pause on the other end of the phone, and words that follow a pause are never words that you want to hear.

  “Maybe . . . Orion only wants you to kill one of the twins.”

  Caleb’s voice is as soft and quiet as mine, but I feel as if thunder has just exploded in my brain. Kill one of Nadine’s twins?! I can’t do that, can I? Could I murder an innocent child just because it’s born to a girl who’ll never be innocent again, even if she bathes in holy water for the rest of her life?

  “Caleb, I . . . I don’t think I can do that,” I reply.

  Another pause, more words I don’t want to hear. “Maybe Vera is reminding you that you have to stop thinking like a girl and start thinking like a goddess.”

  Why can’t I just think like a girlfriend?

  “That’s a big stretch from one to the other,” I state. “Do you actually think this could be a solution?”

  This time his answer comes immediately.

  “I’m sorry, Dominy. I got so excited when I made the Greek connection, I didn’t realize the implications,” he says. “But the truth is, this thing is bigger than just me, just you even; it’s bigger than all of us. So while I don’t condone it, I can’t necessarily say that it isn’t the right thing to do. Maybe it’s just something you have to ponder that will lead you to the real way to solve this thing.”

  I wish I were in the same room with Caleb so I could hug him tight and kiss him a few hundred times to let him know how grateful I am that he did make the connection and that he never has to be sorry about anything when it comes to me. But the words from a distance will have to suffice.

  “Thank you,” I say. “Just knowing that I could potentially kill Orion is important. Remember, Caleb, knowledge is power. Isn’t that what they teach you in that big fancy red school you’re going to?”

  I can hear Caleb’s smile come through the phone.

  “That and how much it hurts to mis
s your girlfriend.”

  The girl in me would love to stay on the phone and flirt with Caleb for hours, but the goddess in me has work to do.

  I’m running so fast I don’t even see Elkie sitting behind the receptionist’s desk.

  “Sorry, Elkie!” I cry. “I’m on a mission.”

  Before the door to Room 48 closes behind me I’m already speaking.

  “Nadine is going to have twins, and once she does, she’s going to be queen bee, which means she’ll no longer have any need for you.”

  Luba’s youthful façade hardens and loses some of its sheen. I guess that’s what happens when someone tells you your granddaughter is planning to dispose of you after she gives birth to the next generation of evil.

  Regaining some of her composure, Luba adopts a very human ploy; she asks an unnecessary question. “And how have you stumbled upon such information?”

  “The old-fashioned way,” I reply. “By accident.”

  Rising from her chair, Luba is once again wearing an outfit that isn’t appropriate for a woman of her age. Her knit sweater clings to her body, and her wool pants look like they’ve been spray painted on. I stare at her moss-green suede shoe boots in sick fascination. How I’d love to step into Luba’s shoes for a few hours. Literally, definitely not figuratively.

  “How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Luba hisses.

  “Because you’ve known from the beginning that Nadine’s pregnancy has made her dangerous; that’s why you want me to help you defeat her. And now you know the reason why,” I hiss back. “It isn’t because Orion will look on her more favorably now that she’s presented him with a new descendant, it’s because she’s presenting him with two. And once she plops out two babies instead of one, you’ll be made redundant. The triumvirate will have a new leader.”

  I thought I was being straightforward, but clearly Luba is having a difficult time accepting what I’ve told her. She paces across the room, her shoes clicking loudly against the tiles on the floor.

  “My granddaughter would not hide such news from me,” she says unconvincingly.

  Gigglaughs drown out the sound of clicking heels. “Yeah, ’cause Nadine’s been brought up to tell the truth and not harbor any secrets,” I howl. “You might be a powerful witch, but you’re a stupid woman.”

  Abruptly, the clicking stops, and with eyes half-closed Luba turns to me, her face an abstract portrait of disgust meets respect. As much as she hates me right now, she knows I’m right, so there’s only one thing left for her to do: lash out.

  “Then one of her spawn must die!”

  Once again Prince Caleb has saved the day. If he hadn’t already planted the seed in my brain that one or both of Nadine’s children should be murdered, Luba’s hideous reaction would startle me; it would shock me into silence. Instead, I’m armed with a comeback.

  “Which would be the action of an even stupider woman.”

  Her boots never touching the ground, Luba flies toward me, stopping only when she hovers a few inches above me, hair and anger falling down on top of my head.

  “These unborn . . . things . . . are my flesh and blood!” she bellows. “I will choose what to do with them!”

  I can’t believe I’m not frightened by Luba’s fury. There isn’t even a twinge of anxiety in my heart or my stomach or my brain. Knowledge really is power, and I’m wearing it like invisible armor.

  “And what do you think Nadine would do if she ever found out that you had killed one of her children?” I ask calmly. “She would hate you for the rest of her life.”

  Slowly Luba descends, her movement stopping only when her boots click onto the floor. A faint odor fills the room, pungent and sweet and rotted, and I realize it’s the smell of Luba’s fear. Her eyes are looking straight at me, but I know they’re not focusing on me; they’re looking through me in search of an answer, some truth, some thing she can hold on to so she can once again feel in control. Luba isn’t used to losing her footing, and she doesn’t like it.

  “I was not put on this earth to grovel for my granddaughter’s love,” Luba seethes.

  “But your granddaughter was put on this earth to serve you, no matter what she’s felt for you,” I reply. “Well, Granny, all that’s about to change.”

  Luba swallows hard, and her skinny throat engorges; the skin expands as if reluctantly allowing a tumor entry to the rest of her body. But it seems as if her body refuses to accept the offering, and the huge lump stays in her throat. Guess it’s time to give it a little push.

  “Worst of all, Nadine will never trust you again; she’ll never follow your command,” I say. “And you can’t control Nadine like you controlled Napoleon.”

  The lump slides down a little farther and rests just at the bottom of Luba’s throat.

  “And without Nadine you will never, ever know your full potential,” I add. “And you’ll be showered in Orion’s spit as he labels you a disgrace.”

  Finally the lump is gone.

  “I suspect that you, wolf-girl, have a solution?” Luba asks, her words crawling out from behind gritted teeth.

  My tongue glides across my lips, and I’m reminded that hunger doesn’t always have to be satisfied with a meal; sometimes it merely needs agreement from an enemy to be satiated.

  I explain my plan to Luba and learn that she can be a very obstinate opponent.

  “Never!”

  Her voice is so loud I wait a moment, expecting Elkie or Winston to barge into the room, but no one comes. Her anger is meant for me alone to hear.

  “You want to work with me, Luba? You want to be my partner? Well, that’s my plan,” I announce. “Help me separate the children. Nadine keeps one, and one is handed over to Vera.”

  This time when Luba paces the room, I don’t hear the clicking of her boots against the floor, because she’s walking on clouds of her own dark black energy. Her hatred and fury and rage are transporting her around the room, and for the first time since I’ve known this woman, I’m not sure who’s leading whom. I don’t know if Luba has unleashed evil or if evil is dragging Luba around in its clutches.

  “I will never give one of my own to Vera!” Luba roars. “She is undeserving; she is self-righteous. . . .”

  “She is Orion’s messenger.”

  My words stop Luba in her midair tracks, the black cloud underneath her bubbling restlessly, unsure if it should continue to travel or return to its source. Like most truths, my words create confusion.

  “And let me remind you that if you refuse to offer one of your great-grandchildren to Vera, you are refusing an offering to Orion,” I proclaim. “Why do you think your god sent Vera here in the first place? She’s here to restore balance! Not to allow Nadine to gain control, not to kill one of his descendants, but to return things to the way they were, the way they were supposed to be!” The next words rush out of my mouth before I understand their true meaning. “The way it was when you avenged your husband’s death.”

  I am just as shocked as Luba is by my statement, but it wasn’t mine; no, it couldn’t have been. It must have been this goddess, this Artemis speaking, not me. There’s no way that I can understand what Luba did. And yet there’s a part of me that does.

  “So, child, we’re finally standing on the same side of the line,” Luba states. “On the side of rightful vengeance.”

  I wish I had a black cloud underneath my feet that would help me escape, but I can’t; I have to stand firm. I have to see this through. I have to get Luba to agree to my plan.

  “So are we a team?” I growl.

  It doesn’t take long for Luba to answer, but when she does it’s as if a whole new brand of fury has been unleashed from the depths of whatever’s left of her rotted soul, the fury born from defeat.

  The roar that escapes Luba’s mouth is so loud, so primal, that it’s silent for a few seconds, as if the earth has to prepare itself for the sound. When the scream fills up the room, I can feel my body shake, but I refuse to run; I refuse to give in to it
. If we’re going to work together, Luba needs to know that I am just as strong as she is.

  Black smoke bombards me, striking me in the face and the arms and my chest, but I don’t flinch. I can feel the wolf’s paws scraping against the underside of my skin, but I will it to remain docile, remain in its place. Luba cannot sense that I am struggling for control. Suddenly the smoke turns into a black serpent, burnt by an eternity spent slithering through the flames of hell, and it wraps itself around me until its grotesque face is inches from my own. A thin, blistered tongue extends from the snake’s mouth and glides across my cheek, sealing my pact with Luba with a death kiss.

  After the tongue recoils I can feel its foul saliva drip down my face and collect at my chin. I have never been more disgusted in my entire life, but I don’t show it. I bottle it inside, keep it as a memory so I never forget that even though Luba and I have entered into a new relationship, she herself has not changed. In fact, I know exactly what words are about to spill out of her mouth, so I beat her to it.

  “Do not betray me!” I command.

  Running down The Hallway to Nowhere, I scrape the snake spittle from my face, surprised that my hands don’t burn from the touch. I know that I’ve just made a pact with the devil, and yet I can’t help feeling triumphant. I stood my ground against Luba, I showed her that I’m worthy, and more important I showed myself that I can control my fear and anger and confusion. Just as I get to the end of the hall, Elkie appears, and I have to stop short. Now face to face with someone who is supposed to be my friend, I feel anxiety latch onto my spine, and I know that today’s lesson is about to be erased from my mind.

  “This is for you.”

  The envelope Elkie is holding in her hands is thin, but I somehow know that it contains a powerful message.