Say what you will about Simon as a guardian, he got us to school the next day. I wasn’t sure why he bothered, with the threat of Neos hanging over us—but I suspected that he felt that the illusion of normalcy strengthened us.
I answered a thousand questions about my bandaged fingers, which felt better already—achy but not awful. I looked forward to hearing Harry’s outlandish explanation of the injury, but he didn’t show for Latin. Which was good news. Meant he was probably at rehab.
I stumbled through the rest of the morning and barely greeted Edmund in Trig. He’d arrived looking peeved and severe. Your friend is spending too long in the Beyond. Have you considered he might be leading you on?
Coby? I said. Leading me on? It’s not like he asked me to wait for him to come home from the Beyond. We’re just friends.
He’s delving into unwholesome things.
I still don’t know what you mean.
But he refused to answer. Which indicated it had something to do with Neos. Edmund was terrified of him. Because Edmund wasn’t an idiot.
Finally he said, I’ll tell you if you dispel me.
Coby wants me to dispel him, too.
I asked you first!
I know, but I didn’t create you. I’m the one who brought Coby back. He wouldn’t be a ghost if it weren’t for me. His spirit would be sitting pretty in his grave with the rest of his body.
Perhaps that would’ve been better, Edmund said somberly. Neos has incredible power in the Beyond. It’s not inconceivable that he’d influence Coby.
I bore down so hard on my pencil that I broke the lead and hurt my damaged fingers. “Ow!” I said aloud.
Sakolsky turned from the board.
“The invalid’s acting up,” Britta said.
I shot her a look. Why did I have to suffer through two classes with her?
“Emma?” Mr. Sakolsky looked at me.
“I’m fine. I’m just … having trouble writing.” I shrugged and showed him my broken pencil.
“Take a break,” Sakolsky said. “I’m sure Britta will be happy to share her notes with you.” It was always hard to tell with Sakolsky whether he was completely oblivious to social tension or benignly Machiavellian.
“Great, thanks,” I muttered. Then Britta and I stuck our tongues out at each other. She always reduced me to middle-school behavior.
You’re actually worried, aren’t you? Edmund said.
That Britta’s not going to share her notes with me? I think that’s a given.
Don’t change the subject, young lady. Sometimes he could be so schoolteacherish.
No. I trust Coby. I always have.
I hope you’re right. Betrayal is a terrible thing.
He faded away then, apparently happy he’d planted the seed of doubt. I just wished I could keep it from budding.
In Fencing, Coach took one look at my hands and told me to take a seat. I climbed the bleachers to sit next to the ghost jocks, who were on their usual perch.
I nodded to them. Craven. Moorehead. Which sent them into peals of teenage boy laughter that almost brightened my day.
Actually, I learned a thing or two about fencing as I listened to them debate the matches. They were taken by a particularly flashy riposte executed by Sara against Kylee. As much as I liked Kylee, I wasn’t unhappy to see her get trounced—I’d been on the receiving end of her foil too many times. And it was good to see a little pep back in Sara’s moves.
Maybe I should try that. I fluttered my fingers. When I’m well again.
Nah, said Craven. You fight dirty.
Yeah, Moorehead agreed. Can’t teach that.
You have to be born in a gutter to fight like Emma Vaile.
Raised by streetwalkers, the other said.
I sighed. Why did I even bother?
I moved across the gym and ignored them for the rest of class. Sara caught up with me in the locker room. She was looking better than she had in days. The accessories were subdued and her hair was in a ponytail, though at least it had been brushed. And she was even wearing lip gloss, a good sign when it came to Sara.
“Hey,” she said with a smile.
“How’s Harry?”
“On lockdown in Boston. I called his parents and they met us there.”
“What’s it like?” I asked, as we started toward the doors. “One of those glitzy rehabs with gourmet meals and maid service?”
“I guess, but it’s still kind of grim. I just hope he’s okay.” Her rough voice lowered. “I think I need to talk to someone about all of this. I’m such an enabler.”
When Harry was twelve, he went through a shoplifting phase. Coby drifted into view. Sara drove the getaway bike.
Hey! I said. Girls’ locker room!
I’m dead, Emma.
You’re still a guy.
I pushed through the doors into the stairs leading to the main hall. “Talking to someone’s probably a good idea.”
“Is that him?” she whispered.
“What? Who?”
“I saw you looking. I can—I can almost feel something. Is it Coby?”
Don’t tell her I’m here, he said.
“Inside the girls’ locker room? Does that sound like Coby?”
“No, he’s too much of a gentleman.”
I nodded. “Yeah, he’d never sneak a peek, or tell anyone your secrets, like that time you rode the getaway bike when Harry shoplifted.”
“Coby!” she said, glaring in the wrong direction. “Promise me right now that you won’t be hovering around the bathroom or I’ll …” She looked at me. “What’ll I do?”
“Ouija-board him.”
“Yeah, upside the head.” Her smile didn’t quite cover her uneasiness. “Is he really here?”
Tell her I’ll be good, he said. And toss me that pencil.
I told her, then I tossed a pencil in the air. Coby caught it—and it hovered there. He waggled it toward Sara, and she laughed, her uneasiness gone. Coby nudged one end of the pencil into Sara’s hand, so she was holding half, and he was holding the other. They walked that way, holding hands through the pencil, upstairs and into the main hall.
“When can I see him again?” she asked, meaning like that brief moment on the roof.
“Oh, um …” I argued with Coby for a moment, back and forth, until he forced me to say, “Coby says, ‘never.’ ”
She stopped walking, and gave the pencil a curt jerk. “What? Why?”
“ ‘Because Emma can’t do that again,’ ” I said. “I mean, that’s what he says. I totally could, though.”
The pencil started twirling in her hand, and Coby’s ghostly face watched her expression as she considered. She finally nodded, and waggled the pencil. “No,” she said. “You’re right, Coby.” She started walking again. “Look at your hands, Emma. You did that for us—me and Harry. But once was enough.” Her eyes outlined the space she expected Coby to fill. “What will he do now?”
“He says he’s not going to linger much longer. He’s got a few things to do—”
“No! He can’t leave me. Not again.”
Coby shook his head. She has to forget about me.
Why? She loves you. She wants you to remain part of her life.
Because I won’t always be here, he said. You know that.
I told Sara, and to my surprise she laughed. “Forget him? I’ll never forget him. Just …” She looked in his direction. “Just don’t be in such a rush.”
We continued that odd, three-way conversation until the bell rang. Then Sara rushed off and Coby vanished—and I realized I hadn’t asked him about the Beyond. Or about Edmund’s suspicions.
Before training that afternoon, Simon called us into the breakfast nook for a snack of pumpkin seeds and something called twig tea—which broke poor Anatole’s heart. Even Celeste seemed a little downcast by the meager offerings. Only Nicholas, toying with the pumpkin seeds, seemed cheerful.
We ate and talked about everything. The Knell, the amulet, the siren. The dark ghostkeeper, my parents, and Neos.
I dreaded facing him. Yes, I wanted this to be over, but sometimes I felt like the knight who has to slay the dragon to win the princess. Charging into a wall of fire with no weapon but a flimsy little sword. Just once, it might be nice to be the princess.
“So this is where we stand,” Simon said. “We need to find Neos’s final resting place … but we can’t. Our second-best shot is taking that amulet from him—that, at least, will remove some of his power. And perhaps one of our readers can use the amulet to find his body. In any case, you’re fully trained—or as near as you’ll get. It’s time to stop waiting, and to act.”
“What’re we going to do?” Lukas asked.
“We’ll head to the Knell, tomorrow,” Simon said. “Lay a trap for Neos, and wait till he springs it.”
“What kind of trap?” Natalie asked.
“We’ll summon him, if necessary,” Simon said, avoiding the question. “That’s why we’re going to the Knell. That’s where we’re strongest.”
“You mean that’s where Emma’s strongest,” Natalie said. “This is all on her.”
“It’s where the Knell can best help her.”
Natalie turned to me. “How are your hands?”
I glanced at them, still lightly wrapped in bandages. It had been less than twenty-four hours, but they were definitely getting better. It didn’t make any sense, but maybe ghostbite healed faster than regular frostbite.
I bit the tape off my left hand and started unwrapping the bandages. “Just keep that siren away from me.”
“That’s Lukas’s job,” Simon said.
“What’s mine?” Natalie asked.
“Summoning allies,” Simon said. “And keeping Emma out of the wrong kind of trouble.”
“How?”
“By keeping your eyes open. You and Emma have a bond. Sometimes being close to someone is as powerful as any ghostkeeping ability.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“Coordinate with the Knell. If we all combine our powers, we’ll win this. As long as Emma is ready.”
“I will be,” I said, flexing my almost-healed fingers.