Bad Apple (The Warner Grimoire) (23 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

HOLLOW

Penny stood in the doorway of the office “Where’s he going?”

“Gone,” Simon said bitterly. Rage burned inside his throat, bitter and sharp. “Just like he said he would.”

Penny backed away from the door. “My father’s threshold should protect us. This office is like his home, nothing should be able to get in.”

Simon was quiet, another wave of weakness forcing him to sit on the floor. “Is it bad?” he finally said. “The fire?”

Penny gazed at the roaring inferno. “Not yet,” she said. “I think we can still put it out. Here,” she said, sitting down across from Simon. “Give me your hands.”

“What?”

“Your hands,” she said, grabbing them. “Sympathetic spell-work. I talk to the Archive, you talk to the fire, okay?

“It can hear me?”

“You created it.” She squeezed his hands. “Together we can do this.”

His heart pounded in his chest. He had never held a girl’s hand before. “What do I need to do?” he asked, forcing himself to focus.

“Close your eyes,” she said. “Just follow me. You’ll probably see a few images, but try not to panic.” She squeezed his hands. “I’ll tell you what to do.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm down. It took several deep breaths, but slowly his heart slowed, then his mind began to fill with a few random images, a flower, Malkin, the circulation desk. These images did not pound into his mind but bloomed like flowers. The images tumbled together, the individual pieces piling on top of each other, assembling themselves until an image of the Archives filled his mind completely. Every floor, then every shelf and book, whether they were on the shelf or sitting in a pile on the floor. Almost all of them were on fire.

“Focus,” Penny said softly. “Repeat after me. You are the fire, the fire is you.”

“I am the fire, the fire is me.”

She squeezed his hands tighter. “Again. Talk to the fire, not to yourself
.
”

Simon took a deep breath. “I am
the fire
.” A strange sensation flickered across his tongue, hot and wild, like the flames itself. “
The fire
is me.” He began to feel feverish. “Burning,” he said, the words hot and strange, cinnamon tasting. “
We are burning
.”

“Yes, we are.” Penny squeezed his hands again. “Rest.” Her voice quavered. “
Rest in peace
.”

Sweat broke out across Simon’s brow. “
Burn
...”

“Rest in peace,” she said, clutching his hands. Another image flickered across Simon’s mind--the flower, again, then another. Hundreds of them, all sunflowers.

Be at rest,” Penny said, her voice wavering. “
Rest in peace.”

Visions of a somber and quiet place flowed into Simon’s mind. A garden. Sunflowers. Rainclouds. People wearing black, and then, Penny and her sister. Their father. Rain. The butterfly garden. Crying.

He was seeing a funeral.

The hot feeling began to fade from Simon. “Rest,” he repeated slowly. “
Rest in peace
.” The flames in his mind died away, and with it the cinnamon taste in his mouth. The image of the library slowly began to leave him, collapsing in on itself as it washed away like a dream.

“It’s out,” he whispered before opening his eyes. He found Penny staring at him intently. “Uhm...” he started to say. “Are you--”

“Lost,” she whispered, her eyes locked on him. “So lost.”

This confused Simon. “What are you talking about?”

Her eyes were puffy. “I saw--” she began. “I didn’t mean to, honestly, but...I saw into your mind.” Her eyes broke away. “I’m sorry.”

“I saw into yours too.” His heart began to pound again. “I saw sunflowers, and a funeral.”

Penny flinched and pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said. “I was like you, I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened--”

“The fires are out,” she said, standing quickly. She leaned out of the side door. “I think they’re gone.” She kept her back to him, unwilling to talk anymore.

Simon slowly got to his feet and started towards Mr. Nettle’s desk. He needed to be looking for that crystal rather than sitting there dumbstruck, staring at Penny’s back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Penny asked when she saw what he was doing.

“Lie,”
whispered the Other Voice.

Simon ignored it. “I came here to find something in your father’s desk. He has a way of finding Boeman.”

Penny stomped over and slammed the desk shut. “You have
no right
to go through his desk,” she spat.

“It’s the only lead I have!” Simon shouted, his chest tight with frustration. “Ever since I came here it’s been nothing but meetings and talking. I can
not
let Sam be taken away from me forever. I will do
whatever
it takes to find him. That means finding Boeman, whatever it takes.” He stared deep into Penny’s eyes, which were still puffy, and immediately felt regret for taking his anger out on her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m desperate. He’s the only parent I’ve ever had. I have to find where Boeman took him.”

“You could always just ask,” a cold voice said from beyond the doorway. Simon and Penny both jumped. Boeman leaned in the doorway, his hands and feet dirty with ash. “You never know. I may just be willing to work with you.” He wiped his hands on his clothes. “I have to give you credit, you’re more like Sam than you know,” he said, eyeing the doorway. “Second threshold. Clever.” His blue eye locked on Penny. “Tell me, was it the girl that thought this up?”

“How did you find us?”

“A friend told me,” Boeman said. “Besides, it wasn’t like it was really that hard. You did all the work for me, Warner. When you took your little fall out of the window and hit the ground like a limp bag of lifeless potatoes, you set off, well, let’s call it
an alarm
.” He chuckled. “So how about it, come along with me? Take you right to Sam. You can even bring your little girlfriend if you want.”

Simon and Penny exchanged a look, then backed away from one another. She scooped Malkin off the desk and held her close. “What are you talking about?” Penny asked, blushing.

“Off we go,” Boeman said to Simon. “You know, find Sam, save the day.
Die the Dark Death
,” he added mockingly. “We’ll go see him together. You already took off with Tamerlane without stopping to think. Why start now?” He pointed a crooked finger right at Simon. “How do you know I’m not the better choice? You really do need to stop and ask yourself just whether you’re exercising your most prudent options.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you. You break people.”

“Oh, come on now! Who told you that? Boy, I
help
people. I help them get what they
want
, and maybe teach them a thing or two about themselves in the process. I’m a mentor, when you think about it. More of one than that sad sack Tamerlane, anyway. He’s always moping about, isn’t he? Such a pretty face.” Boeman’s face suddenly darkened. “Pity I haven’t been able to rip it off.”

“You’re a monster!” Penny blurted out.

“Don’t be so sure, young lady.” Boeman tapped his finger on the threshold. “Besides, you might find things are easier when you are the monster.” The air sizzled around the doorway as the wood splintered. “Less things come after you when you’re what goes bump in the night.” Streaker appeared beside Boeman. “That’s a good boy,” he said to the dog, who growled in response. “Have fun,” Boeman said, backing away. “I’ve left a little present for you, but I think you’ve found it already. See if you can
read
between the lines. If you can figure it out, feel free to call on me. Do that and I’ll take you straight to your dear, beloved Sam, but don’t forget, after that, I’m going to watch you
die
.”

“I’m going to save him,” Simon said.

“Sure you will. But first, Streaker would like to spend some time with you. I’m not the only one who has business with you,” Boeman said, walking away. As he left he began to whistle, the same flat, sad song from Simon’s nightmare.

“I hate him,
” whispered the Other Voice.

Streaker gnashed hard against the threshold, sending up a shower of green sparks. The wood buckled heavily from the impact, sending splinters wildly into the office.

“He weakened the wards,” Penny said. “It won’t hold forever, not with that--that
thing
pushing against it.” She swept around the desk.

Simon flexed his hands. “I’ll try again. I’ll control myself better.”

Penny grabbed his hand. “Don’t. You’re burning your life force up every time you do that.”

“My what?”

“Your
soul
. You’re a living being. That makes you a part of the Cosmic Tide--the
Anima
, and when you just start throwing around your life force around you risk wearing yourself out. Too much magic at once, without training especially, is a good way to end up hurt, or worse.” Her voice dropped. “
Hollow
.”

Suddenly why Nathan had stopped him yesterday at the Gate became terrifyingly clear. Boeman was bleeding him dry. “Hollow?”

“If you do it too much you’ll be left too weak to fight,” Penny said. “You wouldn’t be able to hold them off anyway. They’re just wearing you down right now.”

Streaker bashed harder against the threshold, causing sparks and splinters to tear through the room as the doorframe buckled from the force. “It’s almost through.” Penny backed towards the fireplace. “Here, we’ll move back towards the side door. Just...back away, slowly. Act like were just hiding. Then once we’re out of sight we’ll make a break for it.”

“Then what?” Simon asked.

“I haven’t thought that far,” Penny said, scooping up Malkin, who let out a tiny snort and went back to sleep.

“I don’t like this.” Simon grabbed an iron poker from beside the fireplace. “We’re safer here. When he comes through, just stay behind me.

“I don’t think that’s a good--”

The doorframe burst into a thousand pieces. One final blast of green and red sparks scorched Streaker as he crossed into the office. Once past the broken threshold, the beast threw back his head and howled.

Simon gripped the iron poker tight. “Don’t run. He’ll just chase you.” Streaker moved slowly around the office, his head low and teeth bared. His eyes were pitch black in the moonlight.

The back of Simon’s neck ran cold as ice seemed to crawl up his back. He tightened his grip on the iron poker and swung wildly, hoping to connect with the beast, graze it, maybe knock it out. Penny gasped as the poker swung through the air, only to find nothing. When Simon opened his eyes the beast was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is it?” Simon spun in a circle, looking frantically for any sign. Penny stood against the fireplace, her back pressed against the brick. “Where is it?” Simon shouted. “Where did it go!”

“I--I don’t know. It was there one moment, then the next it was just...”

“Where Penny!”

“Gone.” She clutched Malkin. “Just...gone.”

“It’s messing with us,” Simon said. “It wouldn’t just run--” Something large and heavy knocked him down, sending the poker sliding wildly across the floor. Streaker landed squarely on his back, pinning him to the floor.

Penny screamed. She grabbed the poker from the floor and swung it frantically. “Get back!” she shouted. “Get off of him!”

Simon heard a soft
thunk
above him, and he struggled to lift his head against the weight of the beast pressing down on him.

A hatchet was embedded in the front of Mr. Nettle’s desk. It quivered for a moment, then went still as intricate lines and patterns in silver began to ebb and glow alone the handle, covering it in brilliant lacework, then finally reaching the blade. Suddenly, a burst of bluish-silver light erupted from the hatchet, filling the room with an ephemeral haze. Streaker fell off of Simon with a loud yowl of pain, whelping frantically as it kicked its way into a corner.

Another familiar voice came through the haze. “Hey there, doggie. I thought I told you to
get
.” Nathan stepped through the silvery mist, his bag of salts in his hand. “Guess that makes you one of them old dogs has that trouble learning new tricks, ain’t you?”

“Looks like,” said another voice. Kate stepped beside Nathan, her eyes flickering with silver. She was followed by Mr. Nettle.

Who was followed by Luke.