The Lost Boys (44 page)

I would never forget this terrace, but the memory of our first fight here was completely obliterated by the wonder of our first date now. I was glad Tristan had had the foresight to have condoms in his back pocket, and that he had put out some of the candles. I was glad for the darkness. It felt comfortable and soothing, like a nice soft blanket wrapped over us.

Afterwards, as I lay in his arms, we watched the night sky in companionable silence. When he noticed me shivering a little, he grabbed the big backpack behind us and pulled out a small soft blanket.

I snuggled close to him under the blanket, resting my head against his chest. After a while he started talking, his voice rumbling softly under my ear. He talked about his plans for the future, how much he loved playing music, writing lyrics and melodies, and how amazing it would be if maybe we could do this for a living some day. He talked about places he wanted to go and see with me, languages he wanted to learn to speak, so many wonderful things he still wanted to do.

It felt good knowing he thought about the future like that. It meant he wasn’t giving up, that he really hoped we could figure something out for the end of the year. It meant that he wanted a future; that he wanted to live. I told him then about how my dad had been in a band when he was young, that he’d played in bars to earn a living for some time, and it was in one of those bars that he’d met my mom for the first time. I told him how he had died when I was only three years old and that I didn’t remember his face, but sometimes I thought I remembered his voice singing to me. How it had been just my mom and me since then, and how she’d refused to let sorrow take over her life and had forged her rule to always be open to new things. She’d even made me learn how to play the piano and the guitar because of my dad and his love of music; she wanted to pass to me some of that love, some of his soul. I knew that was why music always particularly touched my heart. These past months had been a rediscovery of that connection. Being in The Lost Boys had made me feel closer to my dad, made me feel I hadn’t lost him completely. Playing music felt like being home again.

I had never talked about this with anyone before. It felt good to talk about it with Tristan for the first time, like a little knot in my chest dissolved and faded away.

Later, we returned to our room. Seth was already deeply asleep. All we could see was the tip of his blond hair over the top of his blankets. Tristan pressed a finger to his lips and we put all our stuff on the floor carefully, so we wouldn’t wake Seth up. Tristan started taking all his clothes off again, except only his boxers, and slipped quickly under his covers. Then he stretched his arm to me and mouthed a silent “come”.

I walked over to his bed and he pulled me to lay with him, and then he turned on to his side. Our bodies fell immediately into that familiar position, his arm wrapped around me, his hand enclosing mine and his face snuggled behind my neck. It felt like two pieces of a puzzle clicking together in all the right places. He sighed deeply and I felt his warm breath over my neck. Just like home.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Surprise Meeting

When I woke up, my face was buried in soft, warm, glittery sand. I shot upright as if a bolt of lightning had hit me, and saw a moonless sky above my head. Holy crap, this was Sky’s desert again: Death’s domain. Tristan and I had agreed I wouldn’t try this before we’d had a chance to plan things, but I’d made it here unintentionally.

How was I supposed to find Sky in this forsaken place? Should I try to call her? Was it a wise thing to do? What if there were other creatures hiding here? Waiting for a weak, dumb prey to start shouting, announcing its next meal?

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, when Sky’s voice greeted me from behind, making me jump. “Hello, Joe.”

I flipped myself around, almost losing my balance, but caught myself just in time. “Jeez, Louise! You scared me half to death … Huh … I mean …” I trailed off. Not a good opener to a conversation with Death, I reckoned. Gosh, this “talking with Death” business was turning out to be a lot more complicated than I’d expected.

“You came to visit me!” she said, smiling. “I don’t ever get visitors … Well, not willing ones,” she mused. “And everybody’s always in such a rush,” she complained.

“Maybe it’s because the place is a little … barren?” I suggested weakly, trying to make conversation.

The visiting topic seemed to be a sore spot for her. Who knew Death could be lonely? That was … well, unexpected. But if you thought about it, it kind of made sense. No one in his right mind would like to hang around Death to “chat”.

“Yes, I suppose you are right. The place isn’t very ‘lively’, is it?” She smiled at the view. “It has been like this for, oh, I don’t know, millennia?” she said. “But enough of this talk! Come, sit!” She indicated a mound of glittery sand. I sat close to her, turning a little so I could see her face. She looked so young, younger than me. I supposed that, just because she was Death, she didn’t have to look all crinkled and old, or be just a skeleton. That would be stereotyping Her long black hair fell over her shoulders and down to her waist. It was very beautiful, as was her angelic pale face and her round cheeks and plump lips. She was still wearing her dark clothes, and necklaces everywhere. Her deep black eyes watched me curiously as I watched her.

“I guess you know who am I now,” she said.

“Oh, yes.” I nodded. “Why you didn’t tell me?”

She thought for a while before answering me. “I didn’t want to rush things for you.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess …” I said, peeking slyly at her.

“And you are wondering why I look like this,” she said, noticing me staring. “Everybody sees me differently in here. If you find me terrifying, I would probably look scary to you. A dark creature wrapped in a dark hooded cloak with nothing but bones inside.” She shrugged, like it didn’t bother her at all what she looked like. “If you’re not scared, you’ll project something else. I rather like the look you give me. It’s quite … what’s the word I’m looking for? Dashing?” she offered, smiling warmly at me.

“Are you saying I make you look like that?” I asked, puzzled.

“Human personification; it’s all in your minds. You can be very creative and imaginative when you want to be. When you’re not killing things, that is. You’re very good at that; gives me loads of work to do in here,” she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice now.

“Uh … sorry,” I apologized, on behalf of all humankind.

She waved her hand at me, dismissing the topic. “So, Joe. How’s
‘Vigil’
doing? Any more punches?” she asked, excited now. I’d forgotten about that. She thought I was very … entertaining. It was like she was asking for the next episode of a soap opera.

“No, no more punches. We just talk nowadays,” I answered. “Actually, that was why I came here. I need to talk to you about Vigil,” I said, getting to the point. “He said you’re his boss …” I began.

She frowned and cut in. “I am certainly not. I don’t have anything to do with any of those gray things!” she said, affronted.

“He told me you … outrank him.”

“Well, yes. That is correct.”

“So, you’re
kind
of his boss, if you’re higher up in the command chain?” I asked, trying to get my point made.

“I’m as high as it goes, Joe,” she stated bluntly.

“So, if you told him to do something, he’d have to obey, right?” I asked eagerly. She just shrugged her shoulders, not really getting where I was going with this. “So, if you told Vigil to let Tristan be, he’d have to obey.”

“I don’t think it works that way, Joe,” she said, finally understanding where I was aiming for. “I don’t decide who lives or who dies.”

“Come on, now! You, like, kill people every day! You’re
Death
!” I countered.

“I haven’t killed anyone in my whole life!” she said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “I just show them the path between worlds.”

“B-but …” I stuttered, at a loss. What could I possibly say to convince Death to let Tristan live? She was our only hope, and it was turning out to be a total dead end, no pun intended. A burning bright light was starting to rise on the horizon. Sky glanced at it and turned to face me again.

“It’s time for you to leave, Joe. You can’t stay here much longer,” she said seriously.

“Listen, are you saying there’s nothing you can do to help Tristan?” I asked in a despairing voice, brushing aside her warning.

“I didn’t say that.”

“What are you saying, then?” I huffed, annoyed at her cryptic answers. “Are you going to help us or not, Sky?” I pleaded again. “You’re our only hope!”

“I’m so sorry, Joe. I can’t meddle in Vigil’s affairs. I’m really sorry, but that’s the way it is.” The bright light continued ascending in the sky, its light making the sand glitter like it was billions of shining stars exploding. The luminosity was so intense, it was burning my eyes, making my head hurt.

“No! There is always a way!” I cried out. I was feeling so tired; my arms were heavy, like chunks of lead. I swayed a little, sitting on the sand by her side, my eyelids getting heavier by the second.

“Joe, you can’t fall asleep in here. You fall asleep, you never wake up again, do you understand?” she warned me.

I forced my eyes open, but it was so hard to stay awake. It was like the coming morning was draining all of my energy, leaving me as barren as this waste land.

“You shouldn’t have stayed this long,” she stated seriously.

“How long have I been here?”

She pondered her answer as the morning drew near. “Time is relative between our worlds. One minute of your world can be hours here,” she pointed out. “But the most important rule of this place is that you cannot stay after the waking sun. You have to go now,” she urged me again.

“Can I come back again?” I asked urgently. I hadn’t got what I came for – a way for Tristan to live.

“As much as I enjoy your visits, Gray, I don’t advise it. It is a tricky affair, counting on your guardian spell to protect you in here. But no human spell can save you from this sun, Joe. And that is why you need to leave now.”

“You have to help us first!” I begged.

“Why? Why would I help you?”

I stared at her for a moment before answering, “Because … because I-I love him,” I said, crying, despair filling my heart.

“Yes, I have heard that plea before, Joe. From many others. Love is very common of your race. I don’t blame you for trying to stay together. I have seen many before you, and I will see many after you’re gone. When he leaves, it will hurt. But this pain will pass,” she said, wiping a tear from my face with her long, slender fingers. “You have to go now,” she informed me one last time.

The scorching sun of fire was almost in the middle of the sky, burning everything in its wake. The heat felt like it was burning me from inside, making my blood boil. I slumped over the hot sand, too tired to sit any more. I just wanted to curl up and sleep. I remembered Tristan’s voice somewhere in time. It seemed like so long ago since I last heard his voice … I felt like I had been here for centuries.

“Wake up now, Joe,” Sky said, walking slowly over to me, her heavy black boots crunching on the melting sand.

“I-I … don’t know how,” I whispered, trying to keep my eyelids open, trying to resist sleep. Numbness was taking over my whole body. I could feel tears streaming down my face. They were burning hot over my skin.

Sky kneeled in front of me, and just seconds before I closed my eyes, she pressed her thumb over my forehead. A sharp piercing pain shot through my head, making me flinch, and all my body seemed to be washed away by a cold rushing sensation.

The next thing I remembered was opening my eyes in a dark room. My room. All my instincts were shouting for me to stay still and remain calm, to get back to reality slowly, but I panicked and bolted up, gasping for air. I clutched my throat with one hand, searching desperately for help with the other. I found Tristan lying by my side and gripped him hard, but I couldn’t speak! I still could feel the scorching heat from the desert place, burning me from inside.

Everything hurt. I fell back down on the mattress and my body convulsed as I shut my eyes tight, because of the blinding headache piercing my skull. My stomach twisted inside, making me feel sick. I cried out in pain and heard Tristan’s trembling voice telling me to breathe. Just keep breathing. Relax. Calm down. Everything was going to be all right.

I felt his body holding me, his voice drifting inside my head, his touch making the pain in my body slowly melt away. I sighed and relaxed; I wasn’t suffocating any more. I could breathe!

“Joey? Joey? Can you hear me? God, please, let her be okay!” I heard him whispering over me. I breathed for a while before answering him.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, slowly trying to open my eyes. My voice sounded crooked and parched. For now, I was focusing all my energy on breathing. Slowly, deeply, inhale, exhale …

“What happened?” he asked me anxiously. His voice sounded anguished, shattered. He was suffering, seeing me in pain like that. “Was it Vigil? Did he hurt you, in your dreams? I’m going to kill him,” I heard him growl, with so much fear and anger in his voice. I fluttered my eyes open and looked at him.

“I think I’m okay now,” I said weakly. “It wasn’t Vigil. God, my head, it hurts so much,” I said, grabbing my throbbing head. A wave of nausea hit me like a punch in the stomach and I stood up fast, trying to walk to the bathroom. I didn’t want to throw up in the middle of the room! My legs gave away and I would have fallen to the ground if it weren’t for Tristan’s speed. He grabbed me before I hit the floor, his face a mask of worry.

“Bathroom … feeling sick … fast,” I managed to say, and he carried me there quickly, putting me carefully on the floor by the toilet. Another wave of nausea hit me and I threw up for the longest minute of my life. I felt his hands pulling my hair away from my face, his body pressing into mine, giving me support to remain upright. After a while, I stopped throwing up and felt a little better, so I tried to move away, but Tristan stopped me.