I was abruptly awoken by the sound of shouting.
I sat up, alarmed, and instinctively reached for my bow. I found nothing but an empty space beside me.
My brain still foggy from sleep, I glanced around. I was in Juniperâs bed. Someone must have moved me upstairs after Iâd passed out.
More yelling came from somewhere down the hall.
I tore the bedsheets off and leaped up, hurrying out the door. Just at that moment, the bathroom door at the end of the hall burst open. For the briefest of seconds, I saw Elliot standing there, wild eyes, wire-thin. Then he bolted, using his Vanpari speed to disappear from view.
Nik staggered to the door, clutching the frame to steady himself. When he saw me, he gestured down the stairs. âDonât just stand there!â
I ran, hurrying down the steps two at a time. The front door was open, swinging on the breeze.
I burst out, tearing up the hill and into the forest. But Elliot was gone. Clearly now heâd pooped the brainrot out of his system, heâd regained his full Vanpari power. I guess blind panic also accounted for some of it.
I headed back toward the house and saw Nik coming out. I quickened my pace.
âWhat the hell happened?â I demanded. âHowâd he get free? Werenât you watching him?â
Nik instantly bristled. âHmm, let me see. Maybe leaving the guy with a knife wound in his gut to do all the work wasnât the best idea after all.â
Iâd just about had it with his attitude. He was reaching jerk level 10. If he tested my patience any more, Iâd rip him a new one.
âDid it work? The remedy?â
âIf it was meant to make him shit for two hours straight, then yeah, Iâd say it worked perfectly.â
âYou know what I mean,â I shot back. âIs the brainrot gone? Is Elliot intelligible again?â
âIntelligible enough to run for the hills and never look back,â Nik replied. His owl familiar hooted the saddest twit-twoo Iâd ever heard.
I exhaled, furiously. âLetâs get the others. Try again.â
I headed for the door. Nik came too, shaking his head. âItâs not going to work.â
âWeâre not giving up until weâre dead.â
We walked into the living room. Everyone except for Grandmaâwho was presumably now tucked up in bedâwas pretty much in the same spot where Iâd left them, staring at the TV.
âThe results are in,â Retta said, turning her head over her shoulder to look at me.
âWhat?â I cried.
âYup,â Gus answered. âGeiser won by a landslide.â
Okay, that wasnât unexpected. But it still sucked to see it for real. The graphs on the screen showed Henrietta Sugar Plumâs purple column down at twenty percent. Geiserâs yellow one was up at eighty percent.
âShit,â I said, slumping my shoulder against the wall.
I looked around at my weary friends. The heavy atmosphere in the room was as thick as molasses.
âGuys,â I said. âThis isnât over.â
No one spoke. No one dared meet my eye. No one dared even move.
Gus stood and came to me. He took me by the shoulders. The voice he spoke with was firm. âItâs over, Theia. We failed. All thatâs left is for Geiser to be announced as mayor of New York City. Thereâs nothing we can do about it.â
I shook myself free. âIâm not giving up. We can try again with Elliot. Or, I dunno, convince Kevin to help us.â I started pacing. âTrevor? He might spill if we paid him enough.â I knew I was scraping the bottom of the barrel now, but giving up just wasnât my style.
Just then, Geiserâs face flashed onto the TV screen and my words died in my throat. The smug look in his eyes made my skin crawl.
Heâd won. His plan had worked. His fake Vanpari cronies, the attack on Heidiâs party, the hostility, getting me out of the way⦠it had all worked. The sun-class had handed him the keys to half the city. Whatever archaic laws he wanted to pass now, he could.
The camera panned out and my chest clenched. Standing next to Geiser was Mom. Sheâd chosen her loyalty and boy did it sting.
My legs started to tremble beneath me. From her place on the couch, Retta reached up and gently tugged my sleeve to guide me down beside her. I slowly lowered myself down, almost as if hypnotized, as the reality of it all began to sink in.
On the screen, Geiser stepped up to the microphone.
âBy voting for me, rather than Henrietta Sugar Plum, as the sun mayor of New York City,â he began, his voice harsh and grating, âthe ordinary sun-class citizens have made their desires very clear. Our attempts to share our city with the moon-class have failed. The peace treaty forced us to share our streets and facilities with the moon-class. For decades, we did just that. For decades, they showed us no gratitude.â
On television, the crowd roared their applause. Their rapture. But in Grandmaâs living room, my moon-class friends and I were seething. I felt my shoulders slump as a sense of bleak hopelessness started to envelop me.
Geiser continued, his voice becoming bolder. âThe moon-class have shown they cannot peacefully live overground. Therefore, they are no longer welcome to. I would like to announce my intentions to bring New York City back to full control of the sun-class. Itâs time for the moon-class to return underground.â He held up a document, his evil eyes glittering with glee.
âThis is a formal eviction notice for Mayor Storm, the moon mayor, to say we are revoking our shared premises. At midnight, I will perform the necessary ceremony at the Statue of Liberty to create twenty-four hours of daylight, and New York City will be returned to the sun-class once more.â
All the air seemed to leave the room. I was stunned. The crowd watching his speech reached a fever pitch that was giving me serious Nazi vibes.
I couldnât believe what was happening. I thought Geiser was going to tighten the Twilight Curfew, not drive an entire class underground! I knew he would attempt something like this eventually, I just didnât realize heâd have that much power that quickly.
It all hit me in a rush. All the emotion at once, like a speeding freight train.
âWeâre screwed,â I stammered, shaking my head. âCompletely and utterly screwed. In a few hours, New York City will become twenty-four-hour sunlight.â
And after New York City, whoâd be next? Surely it would spread throughout the country. One city changing the rules would have a knock-on effect everywhere. The traditionally sun-class states, where barely a single moon community resided, would all turn, too. The moon-class states would turn the other way. The whole country would divide itself up. And what about all the mixed states on the east coast? Would they demand their moon-class folk return underground just like Geiser was doing with New York City? No, this meant war. Whether today, tomorrow, or two years from now, I wasnât sure. But it meant war, all the same.
Beside me, Retta fixed mournful eyes on me. Her hand gripped mine. âThis is bad.â
âWe canât stay here,â I whispered. I tried to stand but she tugged on my hand. âRetta, we have to go. Itâs not safe. Geiser will work out where we are. The fightâs over. The good guys lost.â
But Retta kept her hands locked around my wrist. âWeâre not giving up.â
âWe have to,â I told her.
She twisted her lips, her frown deepening. âNo. You said it yourself. This isnât over.â
âYes it is!â I cried, wrenching myself free. âHeâs in power. We didnât stop him.â
Everyone was watching us now. Retta leaped up to her feet too, her eyes blazing with passion.
âWe didnât stop him getting in power,â she said. âBut we sure as hell are going to stop the ceremony.â
I stared at her in disbelief. âUs? How?â I threw my arms out at my bedraggled friends. âHow do you think we can stop a huge magical ceremony like that?â
Retta looked fired up. âI donât know! We start a frickinâ riot! We burn some shit down! The last thing we do is give up!â
I paced away, running my hands through my hair. My mind was swirling. What options did we really have? Run from Geiser forever, or go back to New York City and fight? Accept defeat, or try to win?
I turned back. Cora was on her feet now, too.
âWe canât be the only New Yorkers who oppose this,â she said. âIf we go back to the city, we could find some other like-minded people.â
Aaron stood. âWe could start our own underground movement!â
Birch looked up at him with excited eyes. Juniper shook her head sternly.
âWhatever we do,â Retta said, âweâre not taking it lying down.â
The three of them at least seemed in agreement. But I just wasnât on board. I was a fugitive. I couldnât just waltz back into the city. Geiser would have eyes all over the place waiting for me. Me and Nik both.
Lucas suddenly sat straight up, like a bolt of inspiration had hit him for the first time in his life. âI have an idea.â
Everyone turned to look at him. Our expressions were all skeptical.
âWhat?â Retta asked, sounding incredulous.
Lucas was up on his feet now, snapping his fingers as he paced back and forth. âThereâs a thing in the peace treaty. A term⦠Uhhh⦠what is it?â
I caught Coraâs eye. She looked as uncertain as I felt.
âThe Sirens are only allowed isolation in peacetime,â Lucas said, as if quoting from a history textbook. âIf the moon- and sun-classes bring the world to the brink of war, theyâll intervene. Itâs to stop a second Shadow War.â He looked up and grinned. âI learned that in fourth grade.â
I raised my eyebrows slowly. âSo youâre saying the Sirens are going to swoop in and save the day, to stop the sun-class bringing us to the brink of a second Shadow War? Doesnât that seem a bit, I dunno, convenient?â
He shook his mane of golden hair. âSirens donât swoop. Theyâd prefer to turn a blind eye. But if I make a Siren call, theyâll have to respond. If weâre there at the Statue of Liberty, theyâll be able to see whatâs happening with their own eyes. Theyâll have no choice but to intervene and stop the ceremony.â
I looked at everyone else. âWhatâs a Siren call?â
âAny Siren overground can summon help,â Lucas explained. âItâs one of our things.â
Cora spoke, her voice unsure. âAnd how do you make this call? Do you just phone your folks and ask them to come save us? Send a text?â
Lucas frowned. âWe donât have telephones. Thereâs a spell. I think.â
My stomach dropped. Even if the Sirens did want to help, I didnât have much faith in Lucasâs ability to cast spells. He might be throwing us a bone here, but I wasnât in the least bit confident it would work. My reticence was made worse by the fact that Lucas spoke like he was literally missing most of his brain cells.
âSay for a minute we do a Siren summonââ Cora said.
ââcall,â Lucas corrected, clearly reveling in the one and only time in his life heâd been the most knowledgeable person in the room.
âRight,â she said. âIn what way would they intervene? What exactly could they do to stop Geiserâs ceremony? Itâs not like they hold any kind of authority overground.â
âThatâs where youâre wrong,â Aaron interrupted. He looked up from his phone. âThe law seems pretty broad and open to interpretation.â
âYouâre reading up on Siren law?â Retta asked.
âItâs all on the night web,â Aaron replied. âObviously. It says if the Sirens perceive Geiserâs ceremony to be an act of aggression toward the moon-class, they have the right to do whatever they deem necessary to maintain peace overground.â
I raised my eyebrows. âThatâs nice and vague.â
âWhat if they deem it necessary to nuke us all?â Cora asked.
Lucas scoffed. âSirens donât have bombs. You overgrounders have such weird views.â
âCan you blame us?â I said. âWe know literally nothing about your society. Or what you do. Or how you think. Or how you live. Youâre a complete mystery. And Iâm not so sure it would be a good idea to drag Sirens into this.â
He folded his huge, bulging arms. âWe prefer not to get dragged into your shit either. But you need help, so maybe you should just take it?â
Iâd never heard Lucas sound testy. He was right though. Beggars canât be choosers. Though I really wasnât feeling good about any of this, he was the only person offering us a lifeline. And while calling on the mysterious Sirens to solve our problems didnât sit well with me, I should at the very least shut up and hear him out. I buttoned my lips.
âSo,â Aaron said, âif the ceremony is considered a form of aggressionâwhich it isâand the Sirens respond to Lucasâs callâwhich they willâthen the next thing that will happen is they block the ceremony.â He shrugged. âHow is anyoneâs guess.â
We all looked at each other.
âThereâs only one way to find out,â Retta said.
âHow do we do a Siren call, then?â Cora asked Lucas.
âThereâs this spell thing,â he said, scratching his head. âAnd you, like, enchant an item and put it in the ocean where you want the Sirens to come to.â
I sighed, my confidence hitting an all-time low. âThereâs no way weâll be able to get close enough to the Statue of Liberty. The place will be crawling with security.â
âI have an idea,â Birch said, holding up his bow. âWhat if we enchanted an arrow and fired it in the ocean? We wouldnât have to be super close to the water to do that. Could it work?â
âI donât see why not,â Lucas replied. âIf I put the incarnationââ
ââincantation,â Retta corrected.
ââspell thing,â Lucas continued, âon the arrow and someone shoots it into the ocean, thatâd do it.â
I paused for a few beats. I wasnât on board. I couldnât get my hopes up. This was nowhere near a firm enough plan for me. Shoot an enchanted arrow in the ocean and hope for the best? That sure as shit wasnât going to cut it. There were way too many variables. Way too much that could go wrong. How would we even get close enough? Whoâd shoot the arrow? Me? With what bow?
Just then, Juniper thrust something into my arms. I looked down and saw my bow, intact, completely mended.
âYou fixed it?â I cried.
She nodded. âWhile you were sleeping. Thereâs an extra-special something in there to replace the magic that was lost when it was broken.â
I frowned at her curiously. âWhat?â
âA veiling necklace,â she said.
âBut Iââ
Retta interrupted me. âI took it from your room. I know you said that you didnât want it, but I thought there might be a time when you needed your big, glowy white orbs again.â
âThanks,â I said, gazing with awe at the bow.
It felt like mine, like it was completely perfect. And just like when Iâd held Juniperâs before, I could feel the unique mix of magic and history flowing through it.
Suddenly, I brightened. âIâll fire the arrow.â
Everyone turned to look at me.
âYou canât,â Juniper begged. âYouâre in too much trouble already.â
âWhatâs one more indiscretion?â I said.
âBut I want to do it!â Birch exclaimed.
Juniper turned to him, shaking her head like an angry teacher. âNo, you definitely wonât.â She looked at me. âSorry, Theia. You understand why we canât get involved, right?â
I nodded. âIt has to be me,â I said. âIâm the only one who can do it. Besides, Iâm a fugitive already, right? Whatâs one more felonyâ¦â I tried to sound nonchalant, like my growing rap sheet didnât worry me at all.
Nikâs eyebrows rose. âYou actually want to do this? To stop the ceremony?â
I thought I detected a look of admiration in his eyes. Maybe that was just wishful thinking. Still, it felt kind of nice.
I felt the weight of my bow in my arms. It seemed to be urging me on. Telling me to keep fighting.
âHeck yeah,â I said.
One by one, my friendsâ eyes began to spark, as if the fire of passion was being ignited in their bellies once more.
âThis will be hella dangerous,â Aaron said.
âWeâll need a place to hide after itâs done,â Cora said. âWe wonât be able to go back to the warehouse.â
âStaying overground wonât be an option at all,â Nik replied. âWeâll all have to go to Underground New York.â
âUnderground New York?â I asked, my head reeling. What else didnât I know?
He nodded. âItâs all still there from before the peace treaty. All the buildings and streets and infrastructure. Itâs neat. A bit dusty, maybe. Mom has a house on the Upper East Side. She can put us up.â
I thought of my own mom standing shoulder to shoulder with Geiser during his announcement. âFine,â I replied. âItâs not like I have a home to go back to anyway.â
I looked over to Gus.
âIâm definitely coming,â he said. âAfter what my parents did to me, Iâm donezo with Bear Mountain. Iâd live in a sewer before I went back to that house. Plus, you know, sexy Vanpari boys.â He winked at Nik, who flushed and looked away. I stifled a grin.
âWeâre moon-class anyway,â Cora said, looking at Aaron and Lucas. âSo obviously weâre in.â
âI would,â Birch said, glumly. âBut Juniper wonât let me.â
She folded her arms and looked at him sternly.
âI wouldnât expect you to give up your lives for this,â I told them.
But Retta was a different story. Of all of us here, she was the one with the most to lose. She was fully embedded in the sun-class community. She had a rich, supportive family. A home. An education. She had everything going for her.
A large smile burst across her lips. âI thought youâd never ask.â
*
We laid my bow and arrows out on the dining-room table. Aaron placed the incantation heâd printed off the night web beside it.
âAnd it definitely says a Siren has to do the incantation?â Retta asked, casting doubtful eyes toward Lucas.
I felt the same. I wasnât sure how much I trusted Lucas to pronounce all the words correctly.
Aaron nodded. âThe only person who can summon a Siren is another Siren.â
âI got this, T,â Lucas said, pumping his fist against his chest. âJust chill.â
He picked up the paper and began to read the incantation. The words he spoke were like nothing Iâd heard before. It was almost like a mournful wail, along with some squeaks and clicks. In any other circumstance, Iâd probably have found it funny. Who am I kidding? It sounded funny in all circumstances, this one included.
I waited, listening to Lucasâs weird wailing sound drone on and on, growing ever more uncertain with each passing second.
Then suddenly, a burst of golden light blasted from Lucasâs mouth.
âDuuuude!â he cried.
âDonât stop now!â I exclaimed.
He continued his wailing noise. The sparkling light streamed from Lucasâs mouth and swirled around the room. Then it whooshed into the arrow on the table.
The light cut out. Everyone stood there stunned, blinking.
âThat was awesome!â Birch cried. He and Lucas fist-bumped.
But my sole focus was on the arrow. It was now emitting a soft, pulsating glow. I reached forward and touched it. A shock, like electricity, zapped me. I drew my hand back.
âDid it work?â Retta asked.
âHell if I know. Thereâs only one way to know for sure.â I heaved the bow up. âLetâs take back our city.â