3MA

3MA | Chapter 28

28
AFTER HOURS

The celebration at Sal's rages on until well passed two in the morning. It isn't until I see Mag and Inka's tiny bodies hunched unconscious over the table, that it occurs to me that the party is officially over. Not just the quickly fading neighborhood gathering around us. But in the greater sense. It's a feeling in the air; the time for fun and games has officially come to a close.

One week to go before Fantasia. No clue how to defeat Black Heart. No idea what to do with the Diamond Staff, even if I miraculously win it. My life and Amaris's expiring by the second. And now LeMorte, strong-arming me into a completely unnecessary dinner date.

With Amaris, Myrna and Fisher trailing behind me, I move through the moonlit courtyard and climb the fire escape ladder, with a snoring Mag slung over my right shoulder and a featherweight Inka, neatly folded over my left. There's something about how delicate and easily broken their bodies feel in my arms that leaves an unsettling stirring in the pit of my stomach. If anything were to ever happen to them --

I peer down at the courtyard and see Fisher smiling up at us. "Believe it or not, I'm late for work."

"How many possible tunnels can LeMorte dig in this city?" I ask.

"Hey. It's a job," Fisher says saluting the group and slipping into the shadowed alleyway.

The apartment is the same unfurnished icebox I left nearly three weeks ago. There wasn't much in the way of valuables to miss, but as I limp across the bare space and deposit Mag and Inka on my mattress, there's no denying I'm relieved to be back. Home is home, I suppose, no matter how barren the space.

On top of the whiskey barrel nightstand, a shaft of moonlight caresses the cracked leather cover of my Camelot storybook. I pluck it up and wedge it under my arm.

"Will you be reading us to sleep?" Myrna asks, rubbing her hands together like a giddy school girl.

"Research," I say. "Maybe there's a clue in here about how to, you know, awaken an ancient kingdom with a pimped-out broom stick."

"Sounds like an enchanting evening but it's way past my bed time," Myna croaks, limping across the apartment and stopping in front of Mag's mattress. She crouches and prods a finger into it.

"You and Amaris can take Mag's mattress," I say to her. "I'll take the couch."

Myrn rolls her eyes. "Magicians don't sleep on couches. At least, not the good ones." She cracks her knuckles and whispers a slurred Twinning Chant. Instead of mattresses, two bright yellow inflatable rafts pop into existence. Myrna barks with laughter. "I'm too drunk for magic and too exhausted to fix it," she moans, and collapses into one of the buoyant oval-shaped boats.

Amaris smiles and hops into the other raft. "I used to watch these things float down the Kilgharrah River. I always wanted to sleep in one," she says, dangling her legs over the raft's bulbous lip.

I shake my head. "I'll add that to my Getting to Know Amaris list," I say, falling onto Mag's beaten mattress.

After a half hour of staring at the peeling ceiling and listening to Myrna's atrocious snoring and the sound of Hoversteed sirens streaking across the city, Amaris says, "it's a lot lonelier than I thought."

"What. The apartment?"

"No. Sleeping in a raft. Come lay next to me. Just until I fall asleep. And no touching me."

"Wow. You're so persuasive, Amaris," I say, grabbing the Camelot storybook. I tear myself from the mattress and settle myself into the rubbery vessel next to Amaris.

I open the book and sift from page to page, reading and rereading interesting passages from the first story in the tome, an old bedtime favorite of Mom's entitled A Boy Named Arthur.

Nothing helpful there.

I inspect the intricate pen and ink drawings that begin each chapter. Beautiful, but not very illuminating. After an hour of investigation, I snap the book closed with a frustrated huff. I look at Amaris who appears to be fast asleep next to me, her mouth slightly parted, a diffused shaft of moonlight defining every crevice of her plump lower-lip.

Amaris's lips.

Something clicks in the very back of my mind. I'm not entirely sure what it is; a stirring shadow of a half-idea. I open the book again and skim to Sir Valem and the Dragon's Heart. I find the ending in the Hall of Heirs, when Carven is about to sink a blade into his father's neck.

And that's when the half-idea cowering in the back of my mind steps out of the shadow and reveals its terrifying face.

No. It can't be.

Because if it's true, then we really don't stand a chance.

"I can feel the tension just laying next to you. What is it?" Amaris says in a scratchy, half-sleeping voice.

"We have a problem."

"Just one? Let's celebrate."

"Ok, we have another problem. And it's so big, I don't think we have enough time to solve it before the end."

"Gosh. You really know how to soothe a girl to sleep."

"Shut up and listen. I was just looking at your lips. Relax, not in a pervy stalker way. Anyway, it reminded me of our kiss."

"Marlon--

"Just listen. When I kissed you, it didn't feel like any other kiss I've ever experienced. Stop rolling your eyes, Amaris. I'm not about to profess my love to you so just listen. When we kissed, it felt like, I don't know, like...possibility. Like things that didn't even exist were bursting to life around us. Please tell me it wasn't just me."

Amaris nods once, the skeptical curve of her eyebrow softening, the more she thinks of it. "I felt it. Felt something. Something powerful. But I figured you were just a really good kisser."

"I think it's because when two objects of great power are united, something is either created or destroyed," I say.

"What two objects of great power?"

"Me and you, dummy."

"Ego much? Besides, you're the cloney-disappeary one. I'm just--

"You're not just anything, Amaris, and I think you know it."

Amaris shrugs. "What does this have anything to do with saving Camelot?"

"Think. Two objects of great power crossed paths in Sir Valem and the Dragon's Heart. And when they did, Camelot plummeted into the ground."

"What are you saying?"

"We don't just need the Diamond Staff. If we're going to restart the heart of a dead kingdom, we need its counterpart, too. We need Excalibur."

Even in the moonlight I can tell Amaris's face is paler than usual. "That sword hasn't been seen in milleniums."

"I know. But we need to find it in the next thirteen days. I'm sure of it. The staff and the sword. One part blade-

"The other magic," Amaris whispers, her voice wavering with a special dread.