Pawn (Nightmares Trilogy #1) (29 page)

Kannon helped me into the passenger
seat and returned to his side of the car. He didn’t ask why I was
staying at the Holloways’ and I didn’t volunteer the information.
He told me about the calculus test he’d stayed up late studying
for, while the local morning radio show played in the background.
It wasn’t until we crossed the county line that I thought to ask
where we were going.

“It’s a surprise,” Kannon said
coyly.

“I don’t like surprises,” I
replied.

Kannon laughed. “Fine, I will give you
a hint. There is a lot of water and parts of the place don’t smell
so hot. We’ll be greeted at the door by tuxedo-clad women and
men.”

I looked down at my jeans
and three-seasons-past sweater, then I glanced at Kannon, who wore
jeans
and a navy-and-red striped
polo
. Both of us were underdressed if
others would be wearing formal wear.

“Don’t worry; they won’t even notice
our clothes,” Kannon assured me.

Half an hour later, I found
out he was right. The penguins that played outside the entrance to
the Baltimore Aquarium definitely didn’t notice what we were
wearing. They swam in their tank, oblivious to the slight chill in
the air. We got there in time for their morning feeding and since
we were the only patrons, the trainer let me throw a few
fish to the penguins.

Over my avid protests,
Kannon paid for both of our entrance fees. Hand in hand we wandered
past the shark tanks first, then the stingray bay, and into the
rainforest. Kannon, as it turned out, fancied himself something of
a tour guide and insisted on making up stories about how each sea
creature came to be a resident of the Aquarium. Not only was his
commentary entertaining, but it meant I didn’t have to talk much. I
was immensely grateful. If I opened my mouth, all of the ugliness
that had plagued the last twenty-four hours
would tumble out and
ruin the
beautiful day.

In front of a huge round tank filled
with neon-colored tropical fish, Kannon stood staring wistfully as
wetsuit-clad divers swam back and forth doling out the afternoon’s
meal.

“Have you been in the ocean since it
happened?” I asked quietly.

Kannon turned to face me, his green
eyes heavy with sadness. He shook his head, sending one dark curl
falling across his forehead. “No,” he said.

“Are you scared?” I asked.

He appeared thoughtful at my question,
instead of perturbed like I thought he might. He seemed to consider
his words carefully before responding.

“Not exactly,” he finally
said. “I love the water, the ocean especially. I don’t know. It
just feels strange, like one minute I might be swimming and
everything will be fine and the next I will find myself
there
.”

Kannon didn’t need to elaborate on
where “there” was; I knew he meant the underworld. I wanted to ask
him more about his trip to meet the gods. Maybe his experience
would trigger something in my memory, and I too would remember my
time in the underworld.

At the risk of being nosey and
interrogative, I decided to press the issue. “What was it like?
When you woke up, did you know where you were?”

Kannon said nothing, favoring tracing
the path of a bright yellow fish as it swam past the glass before
us. I feared my questions too intrusive. Who was I to demand
answers about such an intimate experience on our second
date?

While matters of the heart and
interpersonal relationships were not areas I knew much about, I
doubted most relationships started out the way ours had. Our
relationship was already progressing at a rapid pace. We knew
things about each other even our closest friends and family did
not. We shared a connection, bizarre and unbelievable as it was,
that few could appreciate. Still, I didn’t want Kannon to feel like
I was prying.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer
that,” I said, reaching to place my hand on his
shoulder.

Kannon
tilted
his head and rubbed his cheek
against my fingers. His gaze darted up to the crowd of elementary
school children parading up the previously empty corridor. The
children stopped and took several minutes to
“ooh” and “ah”
over the tropical
fish before moving on. Once they were gone, Kannon took my hand and
led me to a metal bench across from the tank. He ran a fingertip
over the back of my hand, tracing the web of blue veins.

“It was cold,” he said in a quiet
voice. “When I woke up on the beach, it was cold. The sand was
black and iridescent almost. Two moons, or at least what I thought
were moons, were in the sky. No stars, though. One moon was bright
white and beautiful. The other was red and made the water look like
blood.” Kannon swallowed thickly, his face turned an alarming shade
of green, and I wondered if he was going to be sick.

“It’s okay, really. You don’t need to
tell me,” I said.

“At first, I just sat in the cold
sand, shivering,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “It was clear
and I could tell that I was in a cove with cliffs surrounding me on
three sides. In front of me the ocean stretched for what seemed
like miles. I was alone, as far as I could tell, anyway. The only
noise came from the waves crashing on the shore. Then a second
person, an old man, popped into existence a couple of yards down
the beach. He was wearing a hospital gown. He didn’t speak to me,
and before I had the chance to ask where we were or what was going
on, a woman my mom’s age appeared beside him. She started crying
the moment she materialized, soft, quiet sobs. Next, a young boy,
no more than four or five, arrived and nearly landed on top of me.
He too started crying. I wanted to comfort him, but had no idea
what to say.”

I sat
motionless
as Kannon spoke,
simultaneously horrified and fascinated by his story. The pressure
on the back of my hand increased until he was pressing so hard it
verged on uncomfortable. I rested my head on his shoulder again,
lending him comfort and support in the only way I could think
of.

“Suddenly everything went hazy, as if
out of nowhere a fog appeared. I couldn’t see the boy, the old man,
or the woman anymore. I was blind. Not deaf, though. I heard the
pops of more people, ten in all, as they landed on the beach. A
horn blared in the distance, like when a barge docks, you know.
Then a chorus of voices started singing this beautiful song in a
language I didn’t recognize. Even though I didn’t know the words, I
knew what I was supposed to do. The song put me under a trance or
something. I don’t know exactly how to describe the feeling, but it
was freaky. I got up and walked towards the water. The others did,
too. I felt them moving around me. Before I reached the breaking
waves, the fog became less dense and there was this boat. More like
a gondola, really. A man stood at the helm.”

Hermes,
I thought, but didn’t want to interrupt.

“He gestured for us to come
aboard, using
this staff that
looked like pure gold. In retrospect, I should
have been
wary
,
or at least cautious. But I waded several feet into the water – it
was warm, like bath water – and climbed on without thinking twice.
The song was still playing; I remember thinking that it sounded
like the ocean itself was singing to us, calling us
home.

“Once all ten of us were on board, the
boat started gliding across the water, even though the ferryman
wasn’t actively doing anything to make it move. The music continued
until we were out of the cove. When it stopped, cold swept over me.
Then I started to panic, gulping in huge swallows of air, but it
was never enough. The little boy started whimpering again. The
woman sank to the deck, sobbing and mumbling incoherently. The
ferryman pointed at the horizon, and that was when I first noticed
the island.”

Kannon’s muscles
tensed,
as if he were back on
that gondola heading for that island, instead of
here in the aquarium with me. I felt his fear, but could think of
no way to dampen it.
Thank god, I don’t
remember this,
I thought.

“I was so scared, and it
felt like hours passed as I waited for us to dock on the island.
When we finally did, the ferryman pointed at each of us in turn
with his golden
staff and
had us form a line. I was last. One by one, he
led each person into a dense forest, always returning alone. My
turn finally came. I was crying.” Kannon laughed humorlessly. “I
didn’t even care. My father always says, ‘Men don’t cry to show
emotion - we break things,’ but I didn’t feel like a man. I felt
like a child, and I looked like one in my stupid Abercrombie board
shorts.

“When my turn came, I followed the man
into the forest, just as I’d seen everyone else do. Past the
initial clump of trees, there was this huge temple with all these
strange markings. Torches lined either side of the pathway,
illuminating the stones.

“It was even colder inside the temple.
We entered this huge foyer and there were these double doors that
stretched from floor to ceiling. The guide knocked three times with
his golden stick and the doors opened all by themselves. Inside sat
the Panel of Three. It was sort of like our courtrooms, where the
judges sit on an elevated bench. The one in the middle was slightly
higher than the other two. All three stared at me expectantly. I
was too scared to say anything.

“The guide spoke for the first time,
in a language I didn’t understand. I caught my name, though.
‘Kannon Xavier Stevens,’ he said. Then, the Judge in the middle
spoke. ‘Kannon Xavier Stevens, you have been brought before the
Panel of Three so that we may pass judgment on your soul. You will
be tried, weighed, and our decision will be binding.”

The words chilled me to my very core.
I couldn’t even fathom how scared Kannon must have been when that
man spoke those words, and I was glad that I’d been a baby,
incapable of grasping the meaning and the consequence.

“The same Judge pointed to one side of
the courtroom. There, taking up the entire wall were the largest
brass scales I’d ever seen. They looked like the scales of justice.
Glass rocks started to fall from these chutes in the wall onto
either side of the scales. I had no idea which side was which, so I
had no sense of how I was faring. It seemed to take hours. Once all
the rocks were in place, the three men conferred in low voices,
again in a language I didn’t know. When they were done, the middle
judge spoke again. ‘Kannon Xavier Stevens, you have been chosen for
a great opportunity. It is the decision of the Three that you
should return to earth as an Egrgoroi.’ That’s when they explained
the duties and responsibilities of the Egrgoroi. I was so scared
and so unprepared for death that I agreed. I signed the contract
and sealed it with my blood, and the next thing I knew I was in a
hospital room surrounded by my family.”

I thought I should say
something, anything, but no words came to mind. Instead, we sat in
companionable silence watching the
neon
fish swim by in their tank.
I left my head
on Kannon’s shoulder, and he rested his hand on my knee. I’d hoped
his story would trigger something in my memory, but it didn’t. The
cove, the boat ride, the march to Judgment - none of it was even
vaguely familiar. Hermes, though, was. I could picture him with his
golden staff, not standing on a boat or ferrying me to an island.
In my mind, I saw him surrounded by mist, beckoning me forward.
Kannon had said a fog settled over the cove just before he got on
the boat. Maybe that was what I was remembering? Thinking about the
possibility made my brain hurt.

Chapter
Nineteen

“So, let me see if I’ve got this
straight,” Kannon said when I’d finished telling him about my
family’s lifelong deception over lunch at the Inner Harbor. “Your
Aunt Samantha, who you were told died in a car accident, is really
your biological mother and you don’t know who your biological
father is? The man you have always thought was your father is
missing, presumed –” My eyes went wide, causing Kannon to rethink
how he was going to finish his sentence – “missing,” he finished.
“But he left a necklace with Jamieson’s father to give to
you?”

I nodded, wishing I could recapture
the previous night’s indifference. Now it was all I could do to
keep from erupting into a sobbing mess. “When did my life become a
soap opera?” I tried to joke, but my tone fell flat.

“Is that the necklace?” Kannon asked,
pointing to the gold chain peeking out of the top of my sweater.
“Can I see it?”

I withdrew the pendant from its
resting place against my skin and unhooked the clasp. Kannon took
the offered necklace, turning it over in his large palm.

“It’s a dream catcher,” he
said.

“Yeah, I know. Dad has given me one
every year since I turned eight,” I replied.

Kannon looked thoughtful for a moment.
“You were wearing one at Elizabeth’s party, right?”

I smiled, pleased that he remembered.
“That one he gave me for my tenth birthday.”

“Did you wear this to bed last night?
Did you dream?”