Cissy groans. “What is it between you two?”
“Uh, hatred?”
“No.” Cissy slowly scans me from head to toe. “No, it’s not.”
I roll my eyes. Cissy can be so thick sometimes. “Uh, yes-yes it is.”
“You can’t see it, but I can. You care about this guy.” Her eyes flicker red with envy. “More than you care about me.”
Her words slam into me, knocking my breath away. Sure, I think about Lincoln a lot, but only because he’s being such a dick. She’s wrong. Totally wrong. “I care about kicking him in the head, that’s about it. You’re my best and only friend.”
Cissy’s voice turns low and menacing. “He fights you and holds his own. You can’t resist a good battle, Myla.” Her irises blaze with scarlet light. “But you should be my friend first.”
Anger boils up my spine. “What a coincidence! I’d like it if you were my friend first, too. I totally came clean about the Prince and you laughed it off. Then you ambush me in the library. Not okay, girlfriend.”
Cissy’s eyes narrow into fiery red slits. “You’re right. I should have believed you when you said you fought with the Prince and didn’t care about Zeke. I never should have sent you to the library unprepared. For that, I’m sorry. Truly.” She speaks in a super-low and creepy voice. “Now prove you’re more my friend than his enemy. Go with me to the tournament.”
Uh-oh. My heart sinks to my toes. Cissy’s envy demon is kicking in, big time. Sure, she shows demonic jealousy when girls like Paulette talk about Zeke, but that’s small stuff. Her full-blown envy attacks don’t happen often, but when they do, I don’t want to be anywhere near the blast radius.
My mouth brightens into what I hope is a convincing smile. “I’m your friend first, last, and always, Cissy.” I chuck her on the upper arm. “You know that.” Out of the corner of my eye, I scan the mansion’s grounds, looking for safe lines of exit.
Cissy’s eyes keep burning red with jealousy. “Then prove it.” Her mouth compresses into a straight line. “Go with me to the tournament. Show me that I’m more important to you than he is.”
I raise my hands to shoulder level, palms forward. “Look, I know I caused trouble delivering that message, but you and Zeke totally set me up too. In the library, you didn’t—”
“Stop right there.” Her voice stays creepy-calm as her eyes flicker with fire. “I don’t care about the message. I don’t care about the library. I care about one thing.” She steps closer. “What’s. Mine.”
My mouth contracts into a tiny ‘o’ shape. I’ve never, ever seen Cissy’s envy demon this riled up. She’s a little scary right now, and I know scary. My mind freezes with shock. “I’m not sure what to say.”
She steps even closer. “Say you’re going to the tournament.”
With my palms still at shoulder-level, I waggle them from side to side in the universal sign for ‘calm down.’ “Let me think about it.” I cock my head to the right, considering. A tournament could be cool—I’d love to catch some new demon-fighting tricks. Then, I picture Lincoln’s face. Anger boils through my body, melting away all thoughts until I can’t remember why I was contemplating this stupid tournament in the first place. “Not a chance.”
Cissy bares her teeth, her eyes flaring with an almost blinding red light. She turns on her heel and marches away.
Oh, no.
This hasn’t happened since the third grade, and it’s the kryptonite to my super sassy-mouth:
The silent treatment from Cissy.
Once she’s a safe distance, I rev up Betsy and putter home, assessing my new friendless state along the way. Cissy’s out of control right now, but she can’t stay fired up forever. At least, I don’t think she can. I bet she’ll return to her normal, sweet self in a few days, tops. Yeah that’s it. I march through my front door, say my hellos to Mom, and plunk onto the couch to spend some quality time with the Human Channel.
Half-way through a Scooby-Doo marathon, I fall into a deep sleep. Within seconds, I’m dreaming of the Gray Sea.
Chapter Eleven
In my dreamscape, I return to the dark sands of the Gray Sea. I stand on the warm ground, the stench of sulphur thick in my lungs. Kneeling to the earth, I set my hands onto the desert floor. A ring of white flame appears. The sand within the circle rises, forming into the shape of my mother. More of the desert crawls upward, creating the outline of a room surrounding her.