A Vial of Life(47)

I wasn’t sure where River might be staying, but I guessed she’d be with the rest of the humans in the Vale—assuming she and her family had decided to stay in The Shade. Though, as a half-blood, I couldn’t imagine River leaving anytime soon. She had to discover a cure first.

I passed by the Residences first and approached the foot of my parents’ penthouse—my old home. Gazing upward, I almost yelled. Where the treehouse had been was the wreck of a fire. And scattered all around me in the undergrowth was scorched debris.

What on earth happened? Where are my parents? Where is Rose?

As I gazed around, all of the other treehouses seemed to have remained intact. Had this been an accident, my parents’ penthouse going up in smoke? But what kind of accident could have caused this? In all my life, we’d never come close to even a single accident involving fire in our treehouse. And how long ago had the fire been? From the looks of it, this destruction had been only recent.

I set my eyes on my aunt and uncle’s penthouse, wondering if they might be staying with them. Drifting through the front door, I searched all the rooms. The apartment was empty. Fear and confusion gripping me, I headed back to the ground. I knew that my grandfather was supposed to be staying in one of the mountain cabins with his girlfriend. That was the next logical place to visit.

But on arriving in the clearing at the foot of the Black Heights, once again, I was met with a sight of horror. Another home had been scorched, just like my parents’ had. A cabin on the mountainside. I didn’t know if this was my grandfather’s cabin, since I hadn’t had a chance to visit it during the brief period I’d returned to The Shade from The Oasis. But what was the cause of all these fires? I was about to begin moving up the mountain when voices sounded behind me.

I whirled around to see Ibrahim standing with… my father. Relief surged through me. I hurried toward them, calling out, “Dad,” as if by my sheer willpower alone, he would somehow be able to hear me.

He continued speaking with Ibrahim, oblivious to my presence. I set my eyes on the warlock. He was a channeler of magic. Was there any way that he might sense my presence? “Ibrahim!” I bellowed as loud as I could, even as I stood two feet away from him. I stretched out my arms and tried to grab him, but of course my fingers drifted right through his body. He, too, remained oblivious to my presence.

I fell silent and focused on their words.

“First thing after the funeral this morning,” my father said, his voice deep and sober, “we will begin the investigation.”

Panic arrested me again. Funeral? What happened?

My father’s eyes rested on the wrecked cabin, a deep scowl marring his face. “Whoever is behind this will pay.”

“What’s going on?” I spoke aloud, even though I knew they couldn’t hear me. “Where’s Mom? Where is Rose? The rest of our family? River? Is everyone okay?”

There was a span of silence between the two of them as they both stared at the remains of the fire before they turned on their heels and headed back toward the woods. I followed them, hoping that they would lead me toward the rest of my family, where I could verify that they were all right. But then Ibrahim touched my father’s shoulder and they both vanished, leaving the trail cold once again. Though not as cold as before. Perhaps Ibrahim had taken my father back to the Sanctuary? I figured that Corrine’s place—particularly the courtyard outside—was usually used as the base for funerals. It made sense to head there.

I raced back through the woods and reached the courtyard outside Ibrahim and Corrine’s home. I stopped outside their front door and paused for a moment, attempting to steel myself for what I might find on the other side.

I glided through the door, emerging at the beginning of a long corridor. I heard the crying of an infant, but also that of a woman. I hurried along the hallway toward the source of the noise.

The baby’s cries were coming from the fifth room on my right. Its door was ajar. I moved inside to find my aunt lying in bed and cradling in her arms a beautiful baby. My new cousin. He or she was wrapped in a blanket, and I couldn’t make out the child’s gender. I moved to the foot of the bed. Vivienne appeared tired and drained, though her eyes were brimming with affection as she cuddled up with her newborn. I wondered how long ago she had given birth. I gazed down at the child’s face, and wished that I could have greeted my cousin.

Although I wanted to stay in the room longer, even if I couldn’t hold the baby, the crying of the grown woman was eating at my nerves. I left my aunt and cousin alone and returned to the corridor. The sobs sounded like they were coming from Corrine’s treatment room. My anxiety intensified as I approached it, trying to figure out if I recognized the voice.