“How do you know this language?” Odysseus asked. He dragged a woven straw mat beneath the shelter of a lean-to, a short distance from the main fire.
“I don’t know all of it. Their dialect is a little different. But I’ve been to this part of the world before. And I’m good with languages.” Hermes crunched through some kind of root, sitting on his own mat. “She said she dreamed of me.” He gestured toward the old woman, who sat watching and not watching them from across the flames. “She said she dreamed of me long ago, and today, and tomorrow.”
“What does that mean?”
Hermes shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s the tribe’s shaman. Maybe nothing. But it was nice. And she said something else.”
“What?”
“She said she heard the ravening beasts. Not long ago. That way.” He pointed across the village, to the east.
“The ravening beasts? You mean—?”
Hermes nodded. “Artemis. We’re close.”
7
RUNNING RED
The carpeted stairs that curled around from the library were just far enough from the clanging of plastic trays in the cafeteria to feel private and separate, though it was anything but. Voices echoed down the hall like it was a megaphone, unless you were the ones tucked farthest back into the stairs. That honor went to Andie and Sam, who sat sharing a pair of earbuds.
“Cassandra, you want some of my chips?” Megan asked, holding out a plastic baggie. “Dill pickle.”
“Sure.”
Megan plopped down beside her and stretched her striped stocking–clad legs. Underneath a few shades of blue eye shadow and thick black liner, her eyes were tired.
“You look rough,” Cassandra said, and crunched a chip.
“I got zero sleep last night.” Megan jerked her head up toward a boy in a too-tight Abercrombie t-shirt. “Jeremy kept me on the phone until three.”
“Talking about what?”
Megan rolled her eyes. “Isabelle, as usual.”
“You’re half-dead because you lost sleep listening to him moan about his ex-girlfriend? There’s a lesson in there somewhere.”
“What? That I should stop letting him bounce around on me when Isabelle isn’t feeling generous?” Megan blew her bangs out of her face. “I know. But it’s hard, when he needs someone to talk to. When she’s being a bitch.”
“It’s still a crappy deal, Megan.”
“I guess,” she said, and stared into her chip bag. “You were really lucky, you know? To have Aidan. A real, decent guy. Even if it was only for a little while.” She stopped and looked at Cassandra, horrified. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“No,” said Cassandra. “You’re right. It’s true. I was really lucky. For a little while.” He should’ve been there next to her on the stairs. She tried to imagine him there, and it was just that close. Like if she closed her eyes and fell asleep, she might wake against his shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I made you sad.”
“No. It’s okay. I—” She paused. Blood soaked Megan’s shoulders and dripped down her knees. Finger tracks of red smeared and streaked across her face. Cassandra held her breath as buckets covered them both, hot and heavy as a cloak. The carpet squished beneath her shoes.
“I think I need to get some air. Andie?” She kept her voice calm and stood. It wasn’t even hard. Blood and terror had become like milk and cookies. Even through the coppery taste. Even through the smell.
“What’s up?” Andie asked, and Cassandra glanced back at Megan’s bloody face.
Only it wasn’t Megan’s. It was Odysseus’. And it was Hermes’.
*
“We’ve got to skip class,” Cassandra said.
“No arguments here,” Andie said. “But why?”
Cassandra wiped at her lips. The blood was gone, but the flavor coated her mouth as if she’d swallowed a gallon.
“Hey, are you okay? Should we get Henry?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Hermes and Odysseus were in trouble. But the distance between Kincade and Malaysia was an impossible jump. How would they get there? How would they find them? She slammed a fist into the lockers. Stupid, useless visions.