All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [52]
Fiona considered this.
“Maybe . . . ,” she said, and she started walking again.
“Don’t worry about Jezebel,” Eliot told her. “It’s not like she’s even noticed me.”
“True,” Fiona said with a hint of sarcasm.
She didn’t have to agree so easily. “So, what’s the deal with you and Robert?” Eliot shot back.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Sure it is. He’s on our team now, isn’t he? I thought you two were, I don’t know, closer.”
Fiona sighed. “We were. But now I don’t know what to think. He got into trouble because of us before. Because of me. If he gets noticed by the League . . . you know what they’d do to him.”
They turned off the sidewalk and mounted the stairs of their porch.
Cee opened the door and beckoned them inside. “Come in, my darlings! Congratulations! We ordered Chinese to celebrate your first day, and we wouldn’t want it to get cold.” She trembled with excitement. “I’m so glad you passed all your tests.”
Eliot glanced at Fiona, sharing a quizzical look. Cee already knew how they did on their tests?
Of course they knew. Audrey would have called Miss Westin.
They followed her inside, and Eliot detected the savory scents of Mongolian beef, five-star golden shrimp, and pot stickers.
He and Fiona dropped their bags and raced upstairs.
On the dining table were white cardboard boxes overflowing with noodles and rice, steaming vegetables and dumplings. Eliot and Fiona grabbed plates and piled the food high.
Eliot devoured one entire plateful, went back for seconds, and then finally looked up.
Cee watched him and his sister with rapt attention. “Tell me everything,” she said.
Eliot wanted to tell her about the exams, how Paxington was hidden in plain sight, the duel they saw, and the students he’d met. It was all so different—scary and wonderful . . . mostly scary.
But what to tell her about Uncle Kino, their drive to Hell, getting ditched, and then Mr. Welmann’s—the dead Mr. Welmann’s—timely rescue?
Cee knew about school already. She might even know about Uncle Kino.
But the stuff Mr. Welmann had told them about what happened to the dead . . . that somehow seemed like a secret.
He glanced at Fiona.
She’d had eaten only a few morsels off her plate and was in the process of pushing the rest around. She looked up. She narrowed her eyes slightly to let him know they had better keep that information to themselves . . . at least until they had a chance to figure it out.
“It was great,” Eliot told Cee. “But we’re beat and we have tons to read tonight.”
“There’s this list of books,” Fiona chimed in. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
“You were late,” Cee said. “We weren’t sure what happened to you.”
Eliot felt like he’d been stuck with a pin, and he sat up straight.
Cecilia’s words were wrong. On one level, they were just normal words like he’d heard a bazillion times before from her . . . but there was also an undertone: reflected mirror images of words, shadow words, whispered backwards and upside-down words.
They were lies.
Cee knew exactly where they had been.
Eliot didn’t know how he knew—but he was sure she wasn’t telling the truth.
Why would Cee pretend not to know? Just to get more information out of him?
Well, two could play that game. Eliot’s gaze returned to his food, and he prodded a dumpling with his chopsticks. He didn’t answer her question; instead, he asked, “Have you heard anything from our father? I mean, since Del Sombra? I thought he’d have called or written . . . or something.”
“Of course not,” Cee said. “There’s not been a single word from the scoundrel. And we’re lucky for it.”
Eliot discerned only the truth from her words that time.
“But he is going to show up again, isn’t he?” Fiona asked.
Cee licked her lips, gently patted Fiona’s hand, and replied, “I know he is your father, my dove. You must have feelings for him, but best to let them go.”
A shadow appeared in the stairwell, and Audrey spiraled down from her upstairs office. She