Matt Archer: Redemption (25 page)

I didn’t remember the rest of the trip. Somehow, I ended up in Will’s driveway, parked behind Penn’s SUV. I staggered out of my car and went to his front door. I stood there for a minute, not sure what to do next.

A shadow moved past the window next to the door and Millicent peered out. “Mr. Matthew!” She flung the door open, her mouth working. “Dear Lord, honey, is that blood? What’s happened?”

“Will,” I said. “I need Will.”

He was already on his way down the stairs, Penn in tow, when Millicent tugged me inside. He stopped short halfway when he saw me. “Sweet Jesus.”

I sank down on the wooden floor inside the entry and put my hands over my head, rocking back and forth. My brother was dead. Dead, on my kitchen floor. If I’d been five minutes earlier. If I hadn’t stopped for ice cream. If I’d run harder when I heard the scream.

If, if, if …

A low moan escaped my throat. All my fault. It was all my fault—for dragging him into this mess, for not being there to protect my sister, for not stopping this war before it took a toll I couldn’t bear. I shuddered. The blood on my hands wouldn’t wash off. Not this time.

Penn sat down next to me, a tiny spark of warmth, and put her arms around my shoulders. She didn’t ask any questions, just held me, and I knew I’d never forget this moment. The surreal feeling of being held together by a ninety-five pound girl.

Millicent and Will had a quiet conversation. She asked if she should call Mrs. Cruessan because maybe I needed a doctor. Will told her no.

Finally, she said, “I’m going to start the shower in the guest room, Matt. You sit with William while I do.”

That was the first time she called me anything other than “Mr. Matthew.” A testament to how bad I must look.

Will knelt in front of me. “Are you hurt?”

Numb, I shook my head, scared to say anything in case I lost it entirely.

He squeezed my shoulder. “Where’d the blood come from? Talk to me, man. What happened?”

“Brent’s … ” I wanted to swallow it down, like Dad did, but the horror was sweeping me away. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes hoping it would stop the scenes replaying in my head. It didn’t. “They weren’t even alone for five minutes after Dad left, but there were Dark minions in my house when I got home. They kidnapped Mamie and killed Brent. He fought like a goddamn hero, but they still killed him and I couldn’t stop it.”

Penn gasped and Will stiffened next to me. When knuckles cracked, I raised my head to find my friend had become a nightmare. I’d seen him angry, I’d seen him in thrall to his knife. I’d seen him turn into a whirling dervish, dealing out death to monsters and sacks to quarterbacks.

But I’d never seen him murderous. Until now.

“We’re going to kill them all. Every last one. Then piss on them for good measure,” he growled, his hands balled into tight fists. “But first, you need to go clean up, and I need to call in.”

“I have to talk to Uncle Mike. I need to be the one to tell him.” I scrubbed at my cheeks with my fingers, shivering when I realized all I was doing was painting my face with a mix of Brent’s blood and my tears. “That’s first.”

Will nodded and helped me up, then half-carried me to the kitchen when my knees wobbled. He pushed me down on a stool near the island. “Stay here.”

“I’m going to go make a call, too,” Penn whispered. “You hang on, ‘kay?”

I knew who she’d call.

While they were gone, I breathed in the scents of the kitchen. Millicent’s kingdom. A place where I’d been comforted for years. Milk and cookies when Will and I crashed into each other riding bikes when we were seven. A dark chocolate cupcake to improve a fifteenth birthday that sucked. A lemon cake the day Will’s parents found out about his job and nearly disowned him. Cinnamon was the prominent scent today, from the coffee cake on a cooling rack on the counter.

I decided I hated the smell of cinnamon.

Will came back in, his phone pressed to his ear, his expression harder than granite. “He’s right here, sir. I’ll let him try to tell you.”

He held out the phone and I took it. My hands shook so badly, I could barely hold it. “Archer here.”

“Chief?” Mike’s voice was beyond worried. “Will said you need me.”

I did. I needed him
here
, not two thousand miles away. But that couldn’t be helped, so I told him everything, down to Dad pushing me out of the house with blood still on my clothes. I looked up to see Millicent standing behind Will with a hand over her mouth. She was using the doorjamb to hold herself up.

Mike was silent a long, long, long time. Then there was an anguished shout, and the sound of glass shattering. A moment later, I heard Aunt Julie calling to him in the background asking what was wrong and Mike incoherently telling her how our family had been fractured. She took the phone from him.

“Matt?” Aunt Julie, like Will, didn’t go to pieces. She turned to steel. “I’m sending a ride for you and I’m calling the other wielders back to D.C. immediately. As of right now, Mamie is priority number one. We know how important she is to the other side, and we need to get her back as soon as possible.” Her tone softened. “The ride won’t be there for a few hours yet. Take this time. We’ll need you ready to go once you’re here.”

She hung up, having given me an excuse to grieve now, along with an order to pull it together afterwards.

I laid Will’s phone down. “I’d like to clean up, please.”

Will and Millicent shared deeply concerned glances, before he nodded and took me upstairs to the guest suite. “I meant to tell you—you left your duffel in Penn’s car. I’ll bring it up.”

I went into the bathroom, stripped, then sat naked on the tile floor and stared at my hands. They’d done so much, saved so many people. But they hadn’t been able to save my brother. Worthless, stupid hands.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but Will knocked at some point. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I rose, wincing as I unfolded stiff knees. “Give me a minute.”

The shower was blistering, but the heat helped clear my mind. I scrubbed my skin raw, trying to figure out where to start our search. Finding Mamie would be my sole reason for drawing breath until I found her again. I’d bring her home and kill as many of the Shadow Man’s soldiers I could in the process. I owed it to Brent.

But where was she? Mamie disappeared with that minion—literally disappeared, like they had teleported her somewhere. She could be anywhere in the world. Anywhere in the
universe.

Or not in the universe at all.

When I came out of the bathroom, wearing clean BDUs from my duffel since I didn’t have anything else, I picked up the piece of paper my sister had left behind. It had been torn from Zenka’s journal—one of the bits of code she’d been working on. At the top was the encrypted verse. Underneath it, in Mamie’s handwriting, was the decrypted version, or so I guessed since it was still in Latin. Underneath that …

“She translated it,” I breathed.

Words that meant nothing, just like Jie said. This was what the other side had been after:

For the Sentinel, Guardian of Light Herself

To bring her home, to stop the war

Look to the stars

To the Sentinel, to me. That much I knew, who I was, and what I was protecting. But what this fragment told me changed everything else I knew to be true. To the guardian of light herself—not itself, but a specific person, a girl I’d known my entire life. One in ten trillion.
The
Archer.

Mamie was Light
Herself
.

This verse explained everything—why Xing Li said she was ordained by the stars, why Colonel Black’s last words were to keep her safe from the dark, and why he said the light was beautiful. This was why the Dark master wanted her and why we had to bring her back at any and all costs. Because I wasn’t Tink’s proxy.

Mamie was.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Someone knocked on the door. When I opened it, Penn handed me her cell phone without a word and left.

Clenching my jaw to keep from falling to pieces, I whispered, “Is it you?”

“Yes,” Ella said, her voice choked with tears. “Matt, there aren’t enough words in the world to say how sorry I am.”

“Where are you?”

“New Jersey. I’m, um, I’m visiting Rutgers.” She sniffled. “I wanted to check out schools near West Point.”

I sank down on the bed. Today had been a catastrophe of tragic proportions and somehow, Ella knew exactly what I needed to hear. “I love you.”

“I wish I was there. Is there any sense in me coming home? Penn said you’d be leaving for D.C. tonight.”

“No, don’t come here. I don’t know … I don’t know if it’s safe to be around me.” And God knew I couldn’t stand to endanger anyone else. Then, for some reason, I blurted out, “I lost the St. Christopher medal.”

“I’ll find another one,” she said, suddenly fierce. “Because obviously the first one was faulty.”

“No, it wasn’t. It saved me a bunch of times.”

“Then I’ll be glad its luck held as long as it did while I search for a new, stronger one. One that will help you find Mamie and bring her home, both of you safe.”

Knowing how much she cared—it would be enough to see me through. “If you find one, hang on to it. Keep my luck in your hands. I know it’ll be safest there.”

She drew a shaking breath. “I’ll love you forever. I want you to know that.”

“I do.”

“Then go find her, and I’ll be waiting at home when you come back.”

If
I came back, which was unlikely. That realization hit me like a truck—this was probably it for me. I couldn’t tell her that, though. “I’ll love you forever, too. In this life and the next.”

She went very quiet on the other end of the phone. A long moment passed before she said, “Are you trying to say goodbye?”

Yes.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen over the coming days. I just know it’ll be hard.”

“Then don’t say goodbye,” she said. “Keep hope, because I
know
I’ll see you again.”

My breath caught. I couldn’t lie to her, but I didn’t want her to be hurt. And maybe it wasn’t lie. Maybe I
would
see her again. In this life, or the next. “Until next time, then.”

“Until next time,” she whispered, then the call cut out.

I laid the phone down and put on my dog tags. As of now, Soldier Matt would reign.

PART THREE

Light Rises

Chapter Thirty

We landed in D.C. just after two a.m. The private jet taxied to the general aviation terminal, where Aunt Julie was waiting. A uniformed sergeant stood behind her, next to an SUV ready to carry us to the Pentagon.

When she saw me come down the staircase, she strode over and wrapped me in a fierce hug. Knowing this was the way I’d be greeted—by everyone—made the grief rise in my chest again. If I was going to be any use at all, I had to be like my father. Detached. Disciplined.

Dead inside.

I broke the hug and looked down at her with the most blank expression I could conjure. “Captain, we’re ready for duty.”

For a minute, hurt sparked in her eyes, but it was soon replaced by the same hardness. We were beaten down, but not conquered. Not yet.

“The colonel is waiting in the staging room,” she said. “I know you’re exhausted, but he wants to see you.”

I touched my breast pocket. Mamie’s note was tucked in there, next to the arrowhead Jorge had given me a lifetime ago. I had no idea what stars the clue wanted us to find. Did we need the constellation configuration from the exact time of her birth? Or from the time of the eclipse back in August, when shaman-lite Mamie turned into Super Mamie?

The possibilities were literally endless, so much so that I wondered if the clue was a clue at all, or a warning that it would be impossible for me to find her.

The ride over was quiet. Julie seemed to know I didn’t want to talk about it. I had to tell the story at least one more time, and in detail, so I was grateful she didn’t ask questions now. Instead, I sent a text to Mom and Dad:
In D.C. Not sure where I’ll go next. I’ll be in touch.

No sentiment. No platitudes. I thought that’s what they would want. What
Dad
would want.

We pulled through the guard house, and passed through interior security with only a cursory glance. Our footsteps echoed against the hard floor and walls as we moved through the silent building. Not deserted, though. The Pentagon didn’t sleep; it went into night mode.

We turned into Pentagram’s war room and Uncle Mike was standing at the window, staring outside. Julie held Will back, murmuring something about taking him to the commissary for coffee, leaving me to face the brunt of Uncle Mike’s grief alone.

I went inside and closed the door. The harsh fluorescent lights shot a reflection of the entire room onto the window. I didn’t know what he saw outside, if anything at all.

“Was it slow?” he asked in such a hollow voice it sounded like a ventriloquist was making him talk. “Or was it over quick?”

I clenched both fists hard enough to dig my fingernails into my palms. “Long enough for him to say goodbye. Not much more than that.”

He nodded. “We’ve asked the general to advise the president that we’re suspending wielder assistance to other countries until this is resolved.” He glanced back at me, looking very much like my father for a minute—cold and hard. “We have a more important mission.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you think you could sleep?”

Startled by the question, I said, “I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you try.” He turned back to the window. “Jorge and Ramirez will be here in eight hours. We’ll start at eleven hundred.”

Understanding that I was dismissed, I murmured, “Yes, sir” and left him to stare at the dark nothing outside.

* * *

I walked to the conference room the next morning, barely hanging on. I hadn’t slept well—that was to be expected. But I hadn’t had a nightmare, either.