All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [51]
“That’s why she’s sending us to Paxington,” Eliot said. “To fill in the blanks.”
“More like we get to make up for her mistakes.”
They turned the corner. The entrance to Paxington should have been just down the street, but he couldn’t see it yet—not that Eliot had any desire to go back to school today. He just wanted to rest after this too-long, dangerous, and completely weird day. Still, it was fascinating that the entire campus was close: tucked in some in-between place in the middle of San Francisco.
A black cat sat in a doorway, staring at them. When Eliot met its amber gaze, the cat looked away, preened itself, then left, tail flicking in irritation.
“Maybe,” Eliot said, “it doesn’t matter anymore who, if anyone, is to blame. What’s the point? We’ve got homework to do tonight. We should concentrate on that.”
“It should matter,” Fiona said. “Why are you always so eager to please her?”
“Me? You’re the prenatal Vombatus ursinus.”16
Fiona pursed her lips and slowed. She knew exactly what he had meant—that she was tied to Audrey like some suckling baby. Not adult enough to make her own decisions.
“At least,” she said. “I’m big enough to come out of the pouch.”
Eliot halted in his tracks. That wasn’t playing fair. Vocabulary insult was about clever etymologies and double entendres, not simple putdowns like that.
And besides, he was only an inch or two shorter than she.
Eliot didn’t feel like playing vocabulary insult. He walked ahead of her.
Fiona trotted up to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Whatever,” he said.
Eliot glanced across the street, still not seeing Paxington where it should be—then in a flash, the alley aligned and tunneled to fill his vision. Eliot got a glimpse of the café and older students chatting at tables under a blue canopy decorated with a river of glowing stars, sipping coffee, and reading books or scrolls. Beyond this he saw the gate. Mr. Harlan Dells was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, smirking as if he had eavesdropped on him and Fiona.
Streetlights flickered on, and Eliot blinked.
The slice of sideways reality extending into Paxington vanished.
Seeing his new school reminded Eliot there were plenty of other things to worry about besides a reading assignment. That would be the easy part.
“What are we going to do about gym class?” he said. “It looks like a person could get seriously hurt.”
Fiona marched alongside him awhile before she answered. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch your back.”
“So you think I’m going to need watching? You think I’m helpless?”
“No.” She glanced at him, and then at his backpack. “Far from it.”
There was a tentative quality to her voice that Eliot had heard only rarely . . . as if she was scared.
Eliot quickened his pace. He didn’t want to think about why his own sister would feel that way about him. It wasn’t like he had conjured a fog filled with the dead or made the sun rise early on command. That had been the music, out of control—not him.
“I just meant that we’re a team,” Fiona said. “And people on a team watch out for each other. That’s all.”
They rounded a corner, turning onto their street. Even though it was still a block away, Eliot spied the highest window in their house. A candle burned there, a beacon for them. Cee must have lit it.
“I don’t think Jeremy or Sarah Covington are concerned about being team players,” he said.
“At least they know how things work at Paxington,” Fiona replied. “We can learn from them. I’m more worried about that Jezebel.”
The Infernal. The Julie Marks look-alike.
“You’ve got that stupid look on your face,” Fiona said, “like you think she’s going to date you.” She shook her head. “Listen, she’s dangerous. We just walked back from the brink of Hell—that’s where people like that come from. She’s evil. Stay away from her, okay?”
Eliot stopped and crossed his arms. “We’re part Infernal, too. Does that mean we’re evil?”
“We’re Immortals,” Fiona told him. “The League said so.”
“Then why did Kino make such a big deal about telling