To my surprise, Morgan hadn’t only allowed me to stay with him during the exam; he’daskedme to.
Jenny stepped back from the table. “I’m prescribing dish soap.”
Morgan stared at her like he was trying to figure out if she was screwing with him. I wasn’t entirely sure myself. Her face was completely serious. Bruised and covered in cuts and butterfly bandages from yesterday’s battle, but serious.
She wore wide-legged brown pants and a loose forest-green top that looked old and worn and comfortable. The chain of her Greek necklace was just visible above her collar.
Her eyes were shadowed and puffy, and she kept turning away to hide her yawns. I was amazed she was standing at all. I imagined Artemis had something to do with this new stamina.
“Liquidsoap,” Jenny clarified. “Don’t scrub yourself down with Tide Pods or anything. But dish soap should help clear up the grease and oils your body is expelling.”
Morgan’s mind was fully his own again, and had been ever since Temple freed him from R’gngyk’s influence. His body was still recovering from the infection. His pores oozed slime, and his bones were soft and flexible. But Jenny said she saw clear improvement from yesterday.
Morgan and Sage and the other ex-thralls would be staying with us for at least a week as part of their so-called “class trip.” So far, they’d mostly slept. I wasn’t thrilled about having them under our roof, but they seemed both regretful and thoroughly cowed by the events of the past week.
Noah Hovencamp and his two friends had been especially meek in the brief times when they were up and about. I hadn’t told them I was bound from harming others for a full year. Let them sweat, wondering when and how I’d pay them back for jumping me outside the Gauntlet.
I figured I’d start by making them help with repairs to the basement and the grounds.
Getting all their parents on board would have been difficult without Temple to ease their minds, but then Jenny had found Alex’s persuasion charm: a small, pressed pansy. The enchanted purple-and-yellow flower was only an inch wide. He’d laminated it and kept it in his wallet.
I’d spent two hours calling parents, calming their fears, and assuring them their kids would have a wonderful time studying the sea life of Cape Cod Bay.
Jenny and I also took a quick drive to the hospital, where the charm got us in to check on the four students who’d been brought in after taking black magic. All four were conscious and beginning to feel better now that Alex and his magic were out of the picture and we’d locked the door on R’gngyk.
Jenny used the charm to do what she called a Jedi mind trick, suggesting the kids not tell anyone about the stranger things they’d seen or heard, and also to stay off drugs. She sounded like a public service announcement from the eighties.
We locked the flower away after we got home so we wouldn’t be tempted to use it for more mundane things, like forcing our guests to put the toilet seat down when they were done in the bathroom.
Morgan rolled up his sleeve. “What about...”
A red-veined, crusty eye blinked from the inside of his elbow.
“Can you still see out of any of the extra eyes?” asked Jenny.
“No, but—”
“See how the eyelid is all wrinkled and dry? Your body’s reabsorbing it. In another week, it should be nothing but a nasty scab. A month or two, and they’ll all be as good as new. Maybe sooner, thanks to your bloodline. For now, just keep wearing long sleeves.”
Footsteps pounded through the house. Morgan tried to yank down his sleeve, but it was too late. Ava burst into the room and pointed at his arm. “That’s gross.”
“Ava, this is private,” he snapped.
“How long is he going to look like a seagull after an oil spill?” she asked.
“Not long.” With some difficulty, I kept my expression stern. “What are you doing here, Ava?”
“Today was a half day of school, and you promised me ice cream, so Dad said I could hang out here until dinner. He’s in the kitchen going through your leftovers.Hetook a sick day from work even thoughIhad to go to school.”
“Life is cruel and unfair,” I said.
Ava pulled up a chair. “Why did Uncle Temple have to die but the bad guy lived? That sucks.”
Grief lodged in my throat like a sharp stone. I knew Temple wasn’t gone completely. He’d left a message stuck to the fridge this morning, telling me I’d scrambled my eggs wrong. But ghostly nagging wasn’t the same, and Ava was right. “Yes, it does. It’s not fair, and I miss him very much. But I think he’s happy knowing he saved all of us.”
“It’s my fault,” mumbled Morgan. “I can’t believe I trusted Mr. Barclay.”
“Mistakes don’t make you evil,” I said. “Even stupid mistakes. Not as long as you learn from them and work to do better.”
