Annette chuckled. “Kid, that horse left the barn a long time ago and is now happily munching hay in You’re a Dumbass Land.”
“We’re used to strangeness,” I added. “I was once shrunk to eight inches tall so I could hunt and kill a cursed Barbie doll.”
He searched the room until he found a pair of mismatched socks. “I saw the three of you in a dream. I came to Salem to stop you from ending the world.”
• • •
“It’s an honor, sir.” Ronnie had gone full fanboy at the sight of Temple standing by the van. He was still pumping Temple’s hand. “I can’t believe I get to meet Annette ThorneandTemple Finn. I’ve read so much about you and your family.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but my annoyance must have slipped through, because Ronnie quickly added, “It’s an honor to meet a real Hunter of Athena, too.”
Annette coughed and turned away to hide her laughter.
“We should talk privately.” Temple extricated his hand and slid open the van’s side door. “Let’s go inside your mother.”
As I helped him climb into the van, I leaned in and said, “For the love of every god that ever was, never say that again.”
I didn’t want to be rude, but Ronnie’s mother needed a good detailing. The interior smelled like french-fry grease. Crumbs and dirt and stains covered the floor. Empty soda cans and plastic cups were strewn about, along with crumpled paper wrappers and other trash.
Taped-up cardboard boxes filled the back row of seats. Temple and I took the second row, while Ronnie and Annette sat up front.
“Ronnie had an end-of-the-world dream about us,” I began. “And Artemis called him the harbinger.”
“She did?” Ronnie stared at me. For the first time, he looked genuinely impressed. “You actually talk to a goddess? What’s she like?”
“Powerful. Overbearing. On the shorter side. Weirdly fond of strawberry milkshakes.”
“Tell us about the dream,” said Annette.
“Right, sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I saw the world covered in blackness.”
Temple nodded thoughtfully. “A common-enough occurrence at nighttime.”
“The Kensington family has always had prophetic dreams,” Ronnie continued. “This was my first. They’re messages from our ancestors to guide us to the most dangerous threats. The places where we’re most needed. In the dream, the sun and stars were gone, like God had painted over the sky with blood and ink. Cities were ruins. Forests turned skeletal. The people who survived were half-mad, hiding in the shadows like animals. Even the animals were . . .wrong. Twisted into dark, hungry creatures with too many limbs.”
Annette jotted his words in a small notepad. “Hungry like emaciated and starving, or hungry like feral and eager to eat your face?”
“The second one.”
She made another note. “What was the temperature?”
“Why does that matter?”
I leaned forward. “We need to narrow down what kind of apocalypse we’re talking about.”
He looked at each of us in turn. “You believe me?”
Annette shrugged. “You showed up in Salem driving a haunted van and carrying a magic knife, and you knew who two-thirds of us really were. Temple vouches for your mom. Sure, why not?”
“What else can you tell us?” I asked, ignoring Annette’s “two-thirds” jab. “What you’ve described so far could be anything from a zombie uprising to an outbreak of Unseelie herpes to—”
“Psychosis spreading through the ley lines,” suggested Annette.
“Or even a nonmagical threat,” I said. “Nuclear war. Pandemic.”
“Worldwide riots over the price of Taylor Swift tickets,” added Temple.
I picked a fossilized french fry off my seat and dropped it discreetly on the floor. “The sky in your dream is a telling detail. If the sun is really gone, the world should be frozen. The temperature tells us if the blackness is illusion or if something’s truly blocking the sun’s light and heat.”
