Part 24 (1/2)
Garrick.
The realization hits me so hard, I don't know why I didn't see it the moment I first glimpsed the Keres the night it attacked Lexie. There is only one person in the mortal world right now who would know more about Keres than I do. Only one person here who had access to them before we came.
Only one person who could have known how to bring it here. . . .
”It's not fair,” Garrick says as he and Dax enter the mansion via the garage. ”When are you going to let me drive?”
I hear them coming and stand up from the couch, where I have been waiting for them to return.
”Sorry, kid. You've got to be at least sixteen here to get a driver's license.” Dax tosses a grease-spotted paper sack onto the coffee table. ”Dinner,” he says to me.
”Dax picked,” Garrick says. ”So I hope you like deep-fried fat.”
”They're called chimichangas. And they're awesome. Almost as good as tacos.” I wrinkle my nose at the smell. ”I'm not hungry.”
Garrick flops onto an armchair. His leg dangles over one of the arms. I a.s.sess him for a moment and notice how he's dropped the small, cowering mannerisms of a Lesser. He has become too comfortable here. ”Can't you get me one of those fake ID things you got Haden?” He leans over and digs into the paper bag. He takes out two bundles wrapped in grease-spotted paper. He tosses one to Dax, who catches it without looking up, and then offers the other to me.
”I don't want it.” I wave off the foul-smelling food. Garrick doesn't even notice me glaring at him.
”I could get you an ID, but I won't. You're too young. I wouldn't let you near Venus.”
”Venus?” he asks, mockingly. ”Is that what you call your car?”
”She's my little G.o.ddess. And I'm not letting you near her again. You tried to eat a chimi in the front seat.”
”What's that?” Garrick asks, with a mouth full of meat and cheese, pointing at the guitar Daphne gave me. It's tucked under the coffee table.
”It's nothing.”
”It's something.” He bounces up and grabs it out from under the table. His greasy fingers leave prints on the black gloss paint. ”What the Tartarus is this thing?”
”Put it down,” I say, but he doesn't listen.
His filthy fingers are on the strings now.
”Don't touch that.” I reach for the guitar just as Garrick slides his fingers over the strings and a discordant jumble of notes fills the air.
”Harpies,” he says, almost dropping it. The clatter of notes as it smacks against his leg makes me cringe.
”You dung eater!”
”That thing makes music,” Garrick says. I can see the panic in his eyes. Finally, an expression that belongs on a Lesser. ”What are you doing with it?”
”Give it back.”
”It's forbidden. If King Ren finds out . . .”
”He's not going to find out.”
Garrick squeezes the neck of the guitar hard in his hand. I can feel the pulse of electricity building in his body.
”Don't you dare.”
”We should destroy it.”
”Give it to me. That's an order, Lesser.”
”No.”
I can't tell if he refuses because he's concerned about my wellbeing, or just because he wants to be defiant. Because he thinks he can be. He raises his free hand, tiny wisps of blue light crackling in his palm. I've never seen a Lesser use his lightning power before. The electricity is weak, but still strong enough to cause damage to the guitar.
I lunge at him.
Garrick squeals and scrambles up onto the armchair, but he can't get away from me. I wrestle the guitar from his hands and thrust it at Dax, who tries to stop us from fighting. I grab Garrick by the collar. I raise my other hand. The energy that pulses through me would be enough to knock the teeth from his mouth.
”Why did you do it?” I ask.
”Music is forbid-”
”Not that,” I snarl into his face. ”Why did you bring it here?” Garrick's eyes go wide. His mouth quivers. ”I don't know what you're talking about.”
”Yes, you do!”
”Haden, stop,” Dax says. ”What is this about?”
”The Keres,” I say. ”Garrick brought it here.”
”What?” he says. ”That's impossible.”
”Think about it. He works in the Pits. He has access to them. He must have brought one with him.” I shake Garrick by his collar. ”But I want to know why. Did you think it would be amusing? Did you do it to distract me? Why, you little harpy?”
”Stop this,” Dax says, trying to pull me off Garrick. ”Listen to yourself. Garrick didn't know you were going to choose him to come with us. How could he have planned it? How could he even get a Keres out of the Pits? The barriers of the pithos prevent it.” Dax's reasoning edges at my rage. I've acted again without thinking it through.
”It was an accident,” Garrick says softly. He cowers, holding his hands in front of his face defensively. ”It must have attached itself to me. They can do that. Like a second shadow. It was a stowaway, like how you suggested to Dax that first night. I had no idea it was here until I heard you tell Dax and Simon that you saw it. Then I realized what I had done.”
”You idiot. Why didn't you tell us?”
”Because I knew you would react like this.”
”I don't understand,” Dax says. ”How is any of this even happening? The Keres can't get out of the Pits. Only Hades himself could summon them through the barrier. I wouldn't believe any of this if Haden hadn't seen it himself.”
”The locks on the Pits are starting to fail. The barrier that keeps the Keres out of both the Underrealm and the mortal world is beginning to fall,” Garrick says. ”Pandora's Pithos is opening.”
”But that means more could get out. They could all get out.” One Keres is a dangerous thing on its own. But one can become more when it becomes strong enough to multiply. The Keres are kept weak in the Pits to keep their numbers low. But even a handful of Keres, which hunt in packs, could rip through the Underrealm in a matter of days. If more get into the mortal world, especially depending on the type of Keres-disease, fear, violent death, war, pestilence-they can destroy a state, a country. Unchecked, they can multiply and multiply until they destroy this entire realm-and then move on to the others.