Chapter 8. Jenny #2
“Well, you did help that harvester. And also . . .” He pulled on a black T-shirt. “Never mind. I’ve screwed everything up, haven’t I? Ma tried to warn me. She doesn’t think I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling us?”
“You’ll think I’m stupid.”
Annette chuckled. “Kid, that horse left the barn a long time ago and is now happily munching hay in You’re a Dumbass Land.”
“We’re used to strangeness,” I added. “I was once shrunk to eight inches tall so I could hunt and kill a cursed Barbie doll.”
He searched the room until he found a pair of mismatched socks. “I saw the three of you in a dream. I came to Salem to stop you from ending the world.”
· · ·
“It’s an honor, sir.” Ronnie had gone full fanboy at the sight of Temple standing by the van. He was still pumping Temple’s hand. “I can’t believe I get to meet Annette Thorne and Temple Finn. I’ve read so much about you and your family.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but my annoyance must have slipped through, because Ronnie quickly added, “It’s an honor to meet a real Hunter of Athena, too.”
Annette coughed and turned away to hide her laughter.
“We should talk privately.” Temple extricated his hand and slid open the van’s side door. “Let’s go inside your mother.”
As I helped him climb into the van, I leaned in and said, “For the love of every god that ever was, never say that again.”
I didn’t want to be rude, but Ronnie’s mother needed a good detailing. The interior smelled like french-fry grease. Crumbs and dirt and stains covered the floor. Empty soda cans and plastic cups were strewn about, along with crumpled paper wrappers and other trash.
Taped-up cardboard boxes filled the back row of seats. Temple and I took the second row, while Ronnie and Annette sat up front.
“Ronnie had an end-of-the-world dream about us,” I began. “And Artemis called him the harbinger.”
“She did?” Ronnie stared at me. For the first time, he looked genuinely impressed. “You actually talk to a goddess? What’s she like?”
“Powerful. Overbearing. On the shorter side. Weirdly fond of strawberry milkshakes.”
“Tell us about the dream,” said Annette.
“Right, sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I saw the world covered in blackness.”
Temple nodded thoughtfully. “A common-enough occurrence at nighttime.”
“The Kensington family has always had prophetic dreams,” Ronnie continued.
“This was my first. They’re messages from our ancestors to guide us to the most dangerous threats.
The places where we’re most needed. In the dream, the sun and stars were gone, like God had painted over the sky with blood and ink.
Cities were ruins. Forests turned skeletal.
The people who survived were half-mad, hiding in the shadows like animals.
Even the animals were . . . wrong. Twisted into dark, hungry creatures with too many limbs. ”
Annette jotted his words in a small notepad. “Hungry like emaciated and starving, or hungry like feral and eager to eat your face?”
“The second one.”
She made another note. “What was the temperature?”
“Why does that matter?”
I leaned forward. “We need to narrow down what kind of apocalypse we’re talking about.”
He looked at each of us in turn. “You believe me?”
Annette shrugged. “You showed up in Salem driving a haunted van and carrying a magic knife, and you knew who two-thirds of us really were. Temple vouches for your mom. Sure, why not?”
“What else can you tell us?” I asked, ignoring Annette’s “two-thirds” jab. “What you’ve described so far could be anything from a zombie uprising to an outbreak of Unseelie herpes to—”
“Psychosis spreading through the ley lines,” suggested Annette.
“Or even a nonmagical threat,” I said. “Nuclear war. Pandemic.”
“Worldwide riots over the price of Taylor Swift tickets,” added Temple.
I picked a fossilized french fry off my seat and dropped it discreetly on the floor. “The sky in your dream is a telling detail. If the sun is really gone, the world should be frozen. The temperature tells us if the blackness is illusion or if something’s truly blocking the sun’s light and heat.”
“It was cold.” His eyes moved back and forth, like he was studying the details of his dream. “There was a frozen lake. I could see my own breath.”
“That helps,” I said. “Keep going.”
“I walked along an overgrown road until I came to an intersection. My father was there, standing next to a burnt-out delivery truck.” The skin by Ronnie’s eyes tightened, and his voice became quiet and more controlled.
I recognized the signs of old grief not fully healed.
“I had so many things I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the words.
All I could do was ask where this hell had begun.
He showed me the three of you in your shop. ”
Temple cursed. “You saw us inside the shop?”
Temple’s magic should have prevented anyone from spying on us, even in dreams. Either Ronnie’s ancestors were stronger than I’d thought, or else this was another sign that Temple’s magics were fading.
“I’m sorry to have to ask this, but are you sure it was your father?
There are things that travel in dreams, tricksters who disguise themselves to feed on your fears and your sanity. ”
“I . . . I thought I was sure.” His forehead crinkled, and he chewed his lower lip.
“Our bloodline is supposed to be protected from those parasites. It’s one of the blessings that was bestowed upon Sir John as a reward for his service.
I’m also immune to the black plague, and I can’t be thrown from a horse.
Which isn’t as useful in the twenty-first century as it was back then. ”
“For now, let’s assume the warning was genuine,” I said. “You told us you had nothing to do with the attack on Annette last night, but thinking we were going to destroy the world is a pretty clear motive to—”
“I don’t know anything about that. I swear to God.” He locked eyes with me. “Or to Aphrodite, if you prefer.”
My cheek twitched. He had to be doing it deliberately. It wasn’t like Artemis was a difficult name to remember. “What about the harvester?”
Ronnie puffed up like a songbird trying to impress a mate.
“It attacked my mother. It must have thought she was a rogue spirit. I protected her. That’s what Kensingtons do.
It escaped before I could finish it off.
When I tracked it to you, I thought that proved you were evil.
Why else would you help a creature like that? ”
That was an easy question to answer. “Because she was hurt.”
He stared at me like I’d suddenly started speaking Doric Greek. “But it’s a harvester.”
Had I ever been this dense? If so, I might owe Felipe an apology or two. “Are there any other Kensingtons we could talk to?”
“Our family made a lot of enemies. By the turn of the century, my parents were all that was left. My father was killed with a mistletoe arrow when I was nine. Then Ma . . .” He swallowed and looked away.
“Our lives are fraught, full of danger and loss,” said Temple.
“My mother was taken in a feud with the Wild Hunt. I only see her once every ten years. My father lost his mind during an expedition to Wonderland. The real one, not the bastardized version from Carroll’s book.
My sister vanished into a mirror when she was twelve years old.
My cousin Jackie was transformed into a swarm of carnivorous butterflies.
My pet collie was bitten by a werewolf and spent the rest of his life turning into a very confused human every full moon. ”
Ronnie stared at him. So did Annette and I. I’d heard about his mother and father, but I’d never known he had a sister. Or a cousin. Or a dog.
“Is that all true?” asked Ronnie.
Temple grimaced. “Some of it. I can’t remember how much.”
“It’s just me now.” Ronnie cracked his knuckles, one at a time. “I’m the last Kensington, and I’ve sworn to battle the forces of darkness. If Pa’s warning is true, it’s my responsibility to seek out and destroy the threat.”
Ronnie was so irritatingly earnest. So certain he knew the boundaries between Good and Evil. So confident in his role as a soldier for the light.
It was like looking at myself forty years ago. I couldn’t tell how much of my urge to punch him was genuine and how much was leftover anger at my younger self.
At least I’d never said things like sworn to battle the forces of darkness.
“Why would my dreams lead me to you and your shop if you have nothing to do with what’s coming?” asked Ronnie.
“Could be self-fulfilling,” I said. “Maybe by finding us, you’ve drawn us into the apocalypse-of-the-month, and things will come to a head in the bookshop.
A lot of prophecies work that way. They’re less of a straight view of the future and more like a causal loop.
Or it could be connected to Annette’s supernaturally strong attackers yesterday.
We need to figure out who they were and where they came from. ”
Annette looked pointedly at Temple, who had dozed off. “Or maybe . . .”
Sorrow clenched my heart, followed by desperate denial.
Temple Finn had risked his life countless times to protect this world.
He’d died twice that I was aware of, though in the immortal words of Monty Python, he got better.
And I knew beyond any doubt that he’d do it again in a heartbeat to stop the nightmare Ronnie had described.
I thought about the damage in the basement, damage that shouldn’t have been possible. Not if Temple’s bond with the house was healthy and strong. Not if he was in full command of his power and magic.
Maybe Ronnie’s dream had led him directly to the threat after all. If Temple was losing his grip on things . . . Wrecking the basement was bad enough, but how much destruction could a man of Temple’s power cause if he truly lost control?
“What is it?” asked Ronnie.
“Nothing.” I glared at Annette to stop her from arguing. “Go pack up your things, then check out of the Maule House.”
“Jenny . . .” Annette shook her head, looking pained. She knew me well enough to know what I was about to say.
I ignored her. “Until we get this sorted out, Ronnie—and his mom too, I guess—are staying with us.”
“Go home. I told you, we’re not worshipping the ancient gods tonight. You have a chemistry exam in the morning.”