Chapter 17
Waking up the next morning, I remember the nightmare about my mom and have to force myself from breaking down again. I recall what Anthony said last night about it not being real. Though I don't trust him, given his proven track record of lying, I hope he's right.
I scoot myself to the side of the bed and stretch both arms up and yawn. Rising, I locate the attached bathroom, splash some water on my face and pat it dry with a fluffy white towel. I barely recognize the reflection in the mirror. My eyes are still swollen from crying myself to sleep last night and I look frightened, my expression void of happiness. I loathe how weak I feel, and force any thoughts of despair away, knowing that if I linger on all that is wrong, I will collapse. I pull my hair up into a ponytail and glare at myself in the mirror a minute longer, trying to convince myself that I am strong.
Anthony greets me with a smile when I enter the kitchen. "I thought you might need an extra healthy breakfast this morning." He scoops an omelet out of an iron frying pan and onto a plate, which he then sets down on the kitchen table. He seems too happy for everything that is going on.
I scowl at him, trying to give him an evil look as I sit down. "Why are you so happy this morning? It seems like you don't even care that my mom's life is in danger."
"I do, but I choose to stay positive even though the situation is horrible," Anthony says.
"Well, tone it down, will you?"
He looks at my clothes for a second and says, "I am going to the mall to pick up some clothes for you because, obviously, you can't wear that."
"I can just go home and get my own clothes," I say.
His words overpower mine. "No, you can't. We already had that discussion, remember?"
I roll my eyes. "So now you think you're the boss of me?"
"No, but I'd prefer it if Maureen didn't get her hands on you," he says. "So far she doesn't know that I have betrayed her, so you are safe with me. Give it a few more days and we can return. For now, just eat and try to relax." He exits the kitchen.
I am determined to not let his kindness toward me weaken my guard because I still consider him my enemy. Sitting at the table, I pick at my food with a fork because I'm not hungry. How can I be hungry when I don't know if I'm ever going to see my mom again? After forcing myself to eat three bites, I head back upstairs.
Anthony has already made the bed and sits on the sectional, pulling his beige loafers on. "There is something I need to tell you concerning the plans I made with Maureen before she left," he says.
"What? No more surprises, please. I can't handle any more stress right now." I sit down gracefully on the opposite side of the sectional, just far enough away that I won't be tempted to reach out and touch him, or him, me.
"I need you to not freak out on me, okay?" He inches a little closer to me.
I inch farther away and I think I see him rolling his eyes, but I don't care.
"Don't freak out when I tell you this."
Now I'm worried what he'll say, but I force my breathing to slow down; it helps to calm me. "I'll be fine now, go ahead."
"The plan was for me to take you to the ballet, so Olaf could kidnap your mother."
My heart starts racing again, and I clench my lips together so I won't say something that will reveal how disturbed I am, which could easily in his mind be misconstrued as freaking out.
"I was supposed to bring you—now don't overreact—here and keep you here until I heard back from Maureen. So far, we've followed her plan," he says.
So Anthony was supposed to kidnap me? Keep breathing, I remind myself, but my chest tightens more by the second and my breathing has become shallow.
"The reason I'm telling you this, is that Maureen might call me today with further instructions. She might not, but I just want to make sure you're prepared when she does, and when she does, I want you to be part of the phone call—listening," Anthony says.
"Can I say something now?" I say, still working extremely hard to keep myself from losing it.
"Not yet, there's more." He pauses as if to formulate the sentences in his head.
I bite my lip and swallow.
"What she might be telling me when she calls is what I'm supposed to do...to you, which of course, I won't be doing, but I'll have to agree over the phone so I don't set off any red flags. Do you understand?"
"Yes." I can't believe I'm actually just sitting here, quietly listening to this.
"What she will be telling me to do to you will probably shock you." He inches closer to me, and I can smell his cologne now. I wish I didn't like it.
"What kind of things are we talking about?" I ask.
"Mostly torture—" Anthony says, looking down at the floor as if ashamed.
"Do you normally—torture people?" The hair on my back stands up.
"No, I never have. That has always been Olaf's job, but he recently taught me his torture methods. When I saw how devious Maureen's plan is, I wanted no part of it, especially since it involves destroying our own kind." His eyebrows crease.
Just as he is about to say something else, I jump to my feet because I can no longer contain myself. "This is the worst experience in my life! I cannot believe I have to go through this, and be stuck here with you! My mom is missing and is probably being tortured at this very moment, and..."
"You promised you wouldn't freak out on me." Anthony looks baffled.
"That was before you started talking about torture!" I need a quick escape, so I run to the bathroom and lock myself in to get some distance from Anthony. One time I fell off the monkey bars at school while trying to perform a trick. I had all the wind knocked out of me after having fallen a few feet, landing on my back. That's exactly how I feel now—breathless, panicking and feeling like life is being extracted out of me.
Anthony gently knocks on the door. "Sonia, come on, please don't do this. To make this work, I need your full cooperation. Please try and keep your emotions out of this."
How can he remain so reasonable? Because he isn't as emotionally invested, of course. I pause as it suddenly occurs to me that maybe he actually is just as emotionally invested as I am. It couldn't have been that easy to realize that his mom is trying to kill his own kind and it definitely couldn't have been easy to go against all that he was taught growing up. Clearly, I am not being as considerate as he is, but it's just so hard to trust him. For all I know, this could be another part of his ploy. I try and think of other ways I can save my mom. I can't contact the police, because what would they say if I told them that my mom is being held captive on an invisible island? If I involve Ashley—no—I don't want to involve Ashley and endanger her life, too.
"I'll go pick up some clothes for you now," he says through the door. "I should be back in a few hours."
I lean my hip against the granite countertop and slump as I think. If I want to get my mom out alive, I will have to get out of this emotional fog and act rationally. How would a very rational adult act in this situation? She would forget about herself and do what she needed to do when she needed to do it. But I don't know if I have the strength to do that right now since all I want is to lie down and cry. I think about my mom and how pained she looked in my dream last night. She might die if I don't do something, if I don't rise to the occasion and forget about my own pain. I fling open the door and run downstairs.
Anthony is just about to leave, and I stop him. He is clutching a gigantic book in his arms.
"What's that?" I ask.
He holds it toward me so I can see. "A book about how to hone one's Huldu powers."
"There are books about that stuff?"
"Yeah, they give you books when you go to the Academy. The books contain writings about our heritage and education."
I finally start seeing a picture of Kensington that I didn't before. Going there is all about learning who I am, where I come from, where I am going and how to fulfill my life the best way possible. In short, it is a neatly packaged gift that will teach me how to utilize my powers to the fullest as a Huldra. The idea of learning all of this intrigues me and is no longer annoying.
Anthony nears me. "Well, you're going to be one heck of a Huldra." He smiles like he knows a whole bunch of stuff about me that I don't know yet. Then he lifts his hand cautiously and strokes my cheek, and even against my own will, and against all manner of reason, my knees go weak.