“Sure.”
We step into her room. I stand on a stool in front of a multi-paneled mirror. Mom slips a ghoul-robe over my head and examines the hem. I stare into the reflective glass, seeing the large brown eyes, high cheekbones, and full mouth that convinced so many human souls that I was harmless.
Mom sits at my feet, a silver push-pin held firmly between her lips. She speaks from one side of her mouth. “Want to talk about it yet?”
I can’t help but smile. Mom noticed I’m upset. She’s done that a lot more lately. “Wow. How long have you known?”
She bobs her head from side to side. “Since you walked through the door, pretty much.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t believe you haven’t asked me a million questions by now.”
“I haven’t, have I?” She leans back on her heels, her gaze lost in thought. “The dreamscapes from Verus have been good for me.” She nods, decisively. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk about things.” She pokes my heel with her pointer finger and smiles. “More importantly, they’ve been good for us.”
I return her grin. “Yeah, they have.” Half the time, Mom skips her grueling morning question-and-answer sessions. That alone has been a huge relationship builder. “Maybe we should reach out to Tim, bring the family together.”
She eyes me carefully. “Maybe you should tell me what happened today?”
She’s got me there. I inhale a long breath. “Things have been weird at school for a long time. It started back in September when angels started hanging around our Headmaster and Superintendent. Turns out, they’ve been giving advice on how to protect against demons. That’s why the school started the Ghoul Protection League.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “I remember you telling me about that silly League.”
“I didn’t take it too seriously at first, either.”
Cocking her head to one side, Mom eyes the drape of the robe. Pulling the pin from her mouth, she sets it into the fabric’s hem. “The demons aren’t acting like the good little allies they once were. The rank-and-file ghouls know something’s going on, even if their leaders don’t.”
Rising to her feet, Mom gently grips the robe’s shoulders. “We’re all set. Let me pull this off you.” The fabric slides over my head. “Watch the pins.” She lays the new robe over a nearby chair, then sits at the foot of her bed. “So, strange things were happening, and you didn’t take it seriously. But now you are. Why?”
Stepping down from the stool, I sit beside Mom. “Armageddon ‘inspected’ our school today.” I make little quotation marks with my fingers when I say ‘inspected.’ “He killed one of the teachers for no reason.”
“Oh, my. Did the Oligarchy show up?”
“No.”
“It’s what they should have done. With their Group Think, they knew exactly what was happening by the second. Armageddon was testing them.”
“Well, they failed that test, big-time.” What a bunch of bozos the Oligarchy are.
“Those four, let’s just say they don’t like facing unpleasant realities.”
I fidget. “If the demons ever do attack, what would we do?”
Mom looks around the room for a time, then she nods. “Back when I was Senator, we built a series of bunkers where the government could hide out. In there, we had everything we needed to keep working: food, water, armor, communications equipment, and even Senate robes. The bunkers were top secret and built so that no pure demon could get in or out.”
“That sounds great, only they didn’t really work last time, right?”
“The Senate thought it would be ghouls or demons who attacked, never that they’d team up into a single demon-and-ghoul-army. But they did unite. The ghouls created portals to bring in the demon army. It was all over before anyone reached the bunkers. The Angels and thrax came to fight for us, but in the end there wasn’t too much they could do. All we got were slightly better terms in the final peace treaty.”
“You know what, Mom?” I rest my head on her shoulder. “I think we may need one of those bunkers soon.” Anxiety prickles over my skin.
Mom pats my hand. “I think so too, Myla-la.”
Chapter Nineteen
Cissy rushes through the opened door of her lavish bedroom, two huge garment bags gripped in her left hand. In her right, she holds a pair of boxes wrapped in string. “Our gowns are finally here!” She gently sets the packages onto her pink bedspread. “The Great Ladies dropped them off.”
I check my watch. Only a few hours to go before Lincoln’s farewell ball begins. Good thing I’m not one of those types who needs a million years to get ready. I glance at the gowns and frown. “That’s strange. You’d think they’d have something better to do.”