“That may be, but my paperwork will be filed by week’s end.” She storms from the room with Tim behind her. Xavier watches her go, his face turning white with worry. The look on his face is so loving and gentle, I want to give him a hug, even though he is a bit of a nut job.
Before me, Xavier’s body transforms into sand once more. With a low hiss, the entire scene melts back into the desert floor. I sit back on the gray sand. My mind runs through every detail of what I’ve just seen. Armageddon’s obsession with Maxon…how the first of the Oligarchy was controlled by Armageddon…And Mom’s battle to get the threat taken seriously. Sulphur sears my lungs, wind pelts my body, but none of it seems to matter.
I wake to the sound of scraping metal. I open my eyes, seeing gray sky outside my window. I yawn, slip out of bed, and walk into the kitchen. Mom stands before the table, holding a flat block of wood with a long metal arm: a fabric slicer. She pulls the razor-sharp arm up and down, making long cuts on black cloth.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Good morning, Myla.” I examine her face. Mom’s skin is creased with lines. Her hair is coarse and streaked with gray. Her once-vibrant smile is now a look of constant worry.
What did the war do to her?
Mom makes another cut with the slicer. “I hope I didn’t wake you up. It’s faster to cut hoods this way.”
I lean against the chipped countertop. “It’s fine.”
“How’d you sleep?” The way Mom asks the question, I think what she already knows the answer.
“Not so good. Verus sent me another dreamscape. I saw you in some Senate committee meetings. Did you really know Armageddon before the war?”
“That I did. For thousands of years, ghouls and demons had never trusted each other enough to team up. That all changed with Armageddon.”
“I see him at matches sometimes.” I picture the long pointed face, blade-like nose, black stone skin, and fiery eyes. “He’s terrifying.”
“He was always frightening, but once Armageddon became a greater demon, he hit a new level of awful.” She shivers. “I’ve heard that now, no human, angel, or ghoul can stand to be near him for more than a few minutes.”
“I’d believe that.”
She makes another slice with the chopping arm. “He blackmailed or bribed all the ghouls who became the new Oligarchy. Purgatory’s defenses allow only a handful of demons to enter at a time. Armageddon convinced the ghouls to open enough portals for an entire demon army to enter our lands.”
“Wow. They didn’t teach us that in school.” Frowning, I angrily pick at the chipped counter with my thumbnail. School sucks.
“I’m not surprised.” Mom makes another slice. “The demons routed our defenses and set up a puppet government of ghouls. Since then, as long as the ghouls send extra souls to Hell, the demons support their rule.” She shivers. “But I don’t think Armageddon will be happy with a puppet government in forever. It’s not in his nature.”
I lace my fingers behind my neck and let out a long breath. Let’s sum up the awfulness here. I have a ghoul for a dad, a silent treatment for a best friend, and a Mom with a ton of depressing history to think through. My vision turns hazy at the edges.
Mom eyes me closely. “Why don’t you stay home from school today? You don’t look well.”
I picture facing Cissy and the silent treatment at school. I feel a little sick to my stomach.
“You’re right, Mom. I’m going back to bed.” I’ve been awake for less than an hour, but it’s already been that kind of day. I slump into my room, curl under my covers, and fall fast asleep. A contented smile curls my lips as I fall off into a dreamscape-free sleep.
***
I stay home the rest of that day, and the next, and the next. Mom’s really cool about it. She makes me frozen dinners and lets me watch all the television I want. A full week goes by before I trek back to class.
As I putter along the familiar route to school, my face stretches into a confident grin. After a whole week, Cissy must feel sorry for her super-sick best friend, transforming her envy demon into ancient history. In fact, I bet she’ll just say hello and chat away like nothing ever happened.
Yeah, that’s it.
I park Betsy, step into school and scan the crowded hallway. Cissy stands beside by her locker. I walk to her side and slap on my most winning smile.
“Hey there, Cissy.”
Silence.
“I’m feeling much better, thanks for asking.”
Cissy slowly turns to face me. The moment her eyes meet mine, her irises flash so brightly, I shield my eyes from the glare. With a low growl, she slams her locker and stomps off down the hallway.
My stomach twists with disappointment. So much for chatting away like nothing happened. Damn, her envy demon is a bitch when it’s up.
I go to class and pretend to look interested at whatever garbage the Old Timer has to say, but actually I’m brainstorming awesome one-liners for Cissy. I know if I can get her to laugh at lunch, she’ll crumble (and I’ll avoid the thrax tournament). My favorite line is: “Talk to me and I’ll brush your tail.” I nod silently. This will work for sure.