eyebrows. “Nikki.”
“Mrs. Jenkins. Cole’s back.”
She nodded and ushered me inside. While she stayed in the kitchen to brew tea—a mainstay in her home—I brought her up to speed on Cole’s return to Park City and my spontaneous trip to the Everneath.
She emerged carrying a tray with two teacups and a kettle. It struck me at that moment how alone she was. I couldn’t imagine she had an excuse to use the tea tray very much these days.
“So, Jack is still alive?” she asked. She had always been amazed to learn about the dream connection, even though it was her own daughter who had figured out that the Forfeits who survived the Feed were the ones who had anchors on the Surface.
“Yes. Meredith’s theory is still true. I’m Jack’s anchor now, like he was for me. But I don’t know how much longer he can survive.”
I told her about him forgetting things. She got a faraway look in her eyes and stared at her fireplace. “Meredith was so smart to figure it out. I always thought she would be the next one to survive,” she said, inclining her head toward the jar on her mantelpiece. I knew what was inside that jar. The ashes of a Forfeit named Adonia. The last person in Meredith’s family line to have survived the Feed.
Adonia didn’t last long. Apparently, she didn’t want to fight the current queen and try to take over the throne, so—according to Mrs. Jenkins—Adonia’s Everliving betrayed her. Told the queen where she could find her. And the queen sucked out all of her energy until there was nothing left.
I guess that was one reason I had to be grateful to Cole. He never turned me over to the queen.
“Meredith had the numbers,” Mrs. Jenkins went on. “She was the thirty-third female born from the descendants of Adonia’s mother.”
I frowned. “What does that have to do with it?”
“The number three is important with the Everlivings. Symbolic. I thought it would mean something for Meredith. Make her special.”
Her voice had taken on a dreamlike quality. Mrs. Jenkins believed the queen had the power to immortalize entire ancestral lines at her discretion. If Meredith had survived the Feed and taken over the throne, it would’ve meant eternal life for Mrs. Jenkins.
She had a way of drifting off like this, as if her thoughts always revolved around Meredith’s failure and her own missed opportunity. I tore my gaze away from the jar and tried to focus her. “Mrs. Jenkins, I’m going to the Everneath again. With Cole back, I know I can steal another piece of his hair, and—”
“You’d try it again without an escort? Do you want to die?”
This stopped me short. Escort? In all of our talks, she had never mentioned an escort to me. Before I could say anything, though, she went on. “You can’t just go to the Everneath without an escort. The Shades will find you and take you to the Tunnels. I thought you knew this.”
“Wait,” I said, interrupting her. “Did you say escort ?”
“Well, yes. I mean, without an escort, your energy will attract—”
“By escort, do you mean an Everliving?”
“Of course. No human who wants to live would venture into the Everneath without an Everliving. Their energy void masks your energy abundance. They absorb what you give off. And then the Shades aren’t so attracted. To go alone is suicide. You knew this. That’s why you needed to find Cole.”
I sigh, exasperated. “I thought I needed him for his hair!”
“Don’t you know your mythology?” she said in a tsk-tsk kind of way. “You need the entire ferryman to escort you to the Underworld. That’s your Everliving. Otherwise, the Shades come circling like sharks who smell blood.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Part of me wanted to jump up and down at the news that I might be able to hide, and the other part wanted to smack Cole for not telling me. Was it possible that he didn’t know? I only considered it for a moment. Cole was hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. Of
“Mrs. Jenkins. Cole’s back.”
She nodded and ushered me inside. While she stayed in the kitchen to brew tea—a mainstay in her home—I brought her up to speed on Cole’s return to Park City and my spontaneous trip to the Everneath.
She emerged carrying a tray with two teacups and a kettle. It struck me at that moment how alone she was. I couldn’t imagine she had an excuse to use the tea tray very much these days.
“So, Jack is still alive?” she asked. She had always been amazed to learn about the dream connection, even though it was her own daughter who had figured out that the Forfeits who survived the Feed were the ones who had anchors on the Surface.
“Yes. Meredith’s theory is still true. I’m Jack’s anchor now, like he was for me. But I don’t know how much longer he can survive.”
I told her about him forgetting things. She got a faraway look in her eyes and stared at her fireplace. “Meredith was so smart to figure it out. I always thought she would be the next one to survive,” she said, inclining her head toward the jar on her mantelpiece. I knew what was inside that jar. The ashes of a Forfeit named Adonia. The last person in Meredith’s family line to have survived the Feed.
Adonia didn’t last long. Apparently, she didn’t want to fight the current queen and try to take over the throne, so—according to Mrs. Jenkins—Adonia’s Everliving betrayed her. Told the queen where she could find her. And the queen sucked out all of her energy until there was nothing left.
I guess that was one reason I had to be grateful to Cole. He never turned me over to the queen.
“Meredith had the numbers,” Mrs. Jenkins went on. “She was the thirty-third female born from the descendants of Adonia’s mother.”
I frowned. “What does that have to do with it?”
“The number three is important with the Everlivings. Symbolic. I thought it would mean something for Meredith. Make her special.”
Her voice had taken on a dreamlike quality. Mrs. Jenkins believed the queen had the power to immortalize entire ancestral lines at her discretion. If Meredith had survived the Feed and taken over the throne, it would’ve meant eternal life for Mrs. Jenkins.
She had a way of drifting off like this, as if her thoughts always revolved around Meredith’s failure and her own missed opportunity. I tore my gaze away from the jar and tried to focus her. “Mrs. Jenkins, I’m going to the Everneath again. With Cole back, I know I can steal another piece of his hair, and—”
“You’d try it again without an escort? Do you want to die?”
This stopped me short. Escort? In all of our talks, she had never mentioned an escort to me. Before I could say anything, though, she went on. “You can’t just go to the Everneath without an escort. The Shades will find you and take you to the Tunnels. I thought you knew this.”
“Wait,” I said, interrupting her. “Did you say escort ?”
“Well, yes. I mean, without an escort, your energy will attract—”
“By escort, do you mean an Everliving?”
“Of course. No human who wants to live would venture into the Everneath without an Everliving. Their energy void masks your energy abundance. They absorb what you give off. And then the Shades aren’t so attracted. To go alone is suicide. You knew this. That’s why you needed to find Cole.”
I sigh, exasperated. “I thought I needed him for his hair!”
“Don’t you know your mythology?” she said in a tsk-tsk kind of way. “You need the entire ferryman to escort you to the Underworld. That’s your Everliving. Otherwise, the Shades come circling like sharks who smell blood.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Part of me wanted to jump up and down at the news that I might be able to hide, and the other part wanted to smack Cole for not telling me. Was it possible that he didn’t know? I only considered it for a moment. Cole was hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. Of
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