Fact: His Excellency the Supreme King of the Middle Realm would be a powerful ally against her. True, Mary’s power was a viral kind of charisma that could practically melt flesh from bone, but the king had acquired certain powers in Everlost as well. It might be enough to swing things in their favor.
When the conversation was done, Allie, Mikey, and Nick went off to consider their options, Jill went off alone, if only to escape from the company, and Jix sat with Clarence—not close enough to be accidentally touched, but close enough to make it clear that Jix didn’t fear him. They both watched Lacey as she played tic-tac-toe alone in the deadspot dirt. It gave Jix a pang of sadness, because she reminded him of Inez—the girl he killed. The girl he could not save. He imagined every little girl would be a reminder, from now till the end of his memories.
Jix regarded Clarence, considering his battle wounds, considering the sparking line that held together the living from the lost side of his face. It was terrifying to behold, but it was also remarkable. To Jix, Clarence was very much like an Everlost coin: undeniable proof that the universe had tricks it was not ready to reveal to anyone.
“Go on, stare at the monster,” Clarence said bitterly, misinterpreting Jix’s unblinking gaze. “Gawk at the nasty child-eating bogeyman scar wraith.”
“No,” said Jix, “I don’t see you as a monster. We are both oddities. I have respect for that.” Clarence waved off the prospect of Jix’s respect, but Jix was insistent. “Listen to me,” Jix said. “I’ve come to think it’s no accident you are the way you are. There is a purpose for you in all of this. I sense it—and if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s sensing. You already saved many people, and yet you still feel unfulfilled. It means you still have more to do in that purpose, I think.”
Both the living and the lost halves of Clarence’s face smiled, but it was a smile of apology. “I used to believe things like that,” he said, “but in my experience it all goes belly-up in the end. I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t have a purpose . . . and when I finally go down that tunnel to the pearly gates or wherever, I’m going to slap God silly for not giving me one.”
Jix nodded, accepting Clarence’s point of view without judgment. “Do that if you must,” Jix said. “But I suspect it will all be much clearer when you are there.”
A few yards away, Jix’s sleeping jaguar stirred and Clarence turned his living eye toward it. “Better skinjack that thing before it wakes up and eats me.”
“Chichén Itzá!” said Allie. “The City of Souls is at Chichén Itzá! I should have figured out it had nothing to do with a chicken.”
“I won’t go!” yelled Mikey. He could not be calmed. He raged and stormed, and as he did, his anger gave him all nature of deformities. Extra hands and arms, boils bubbling the size of golf balls on his face. Mikey didn’t just wear his heart on his sleeve, he wore it all over his body in frightening manifestations of fury.
“Calm down and think about it!” Allie told him. “What Jix proposed makes sense. You can’t go where I’m going—and anyway, I won’t be alone, I’ll have Clarence—”
“who will wipe you out of existence if he touches you,” reminded Mikey.
“So I’ll be careful. And you shouldn’t be worrying about me—you’ll have your own mission to worry about.”
“Some mission!” griped Mikey. “I will not go down to the City of Souls to grovel at the feet of some stupid king!”
“Hey,” said Nick. “I’m going there too—and I’m not complaining.”
“You’re too stupid to complain,” growled Mikey.
“That,” said Allie, “is not fair!”
“No, he’s right,” said Nick. “I’m not the boy I used to be. Maybe I never will be—but at least I’m not so selfish as to—”
“Selfish? You think I’m selfish?” Boils bubbled on Mikey’s face and popped like pizza cheeze. “I’ll show you selfish.”
“Stop it!” yelled Allie. “Now you sound like the McGill.”
Then Mikey’s face became a pale lava flow over mournful pleading eyes. “Do you know how hard I tried to find you? And now that I did, you’re going to leave? I might never see you again!”
“That’s true,” said Allie. “But there are more important things than us being together.”
“No,” yelled Mikey, “there aren’t!” and he stormed away. Allie started to go after him, but Nick stopped her.
“He’ll be okay,” Nick told her. “He needs to explode a little bit.” They watched him as he burst into different unpleasant shapes beneath the hazy morning sun.
Allie sighed. “I hate it when he explodes.”
“Actually, I think you love it.”
Allie had to smile because he was right. She thought back to the days on the Sulphur Queen. Back then Mikey was so proud to be the One True Monster of Everlost, reveling in every display of hideousness. She could not remember the moment her general disgust was replaced by understanding, and eventually love. No doubt such things sneak up on a person. She knew, in spite of everything, her feelings for Mikey were greater than the most miserable incarnations of his stormy emotions. Love, Allie concluded, wasn’t blind, it simply saw alternate dimensions.
Allie turned to Nick. “So . . . do you still love her?” she asked. “Do you still love Mary?”
Nick didn’t speak right away. She could tell he was struggling to find an answer. “I love . . . how she wraps the world around her finger so gracefully you can’t imagine it anywhere else. I love the determination she has to do ‘the right thing’. . . . But I will never understand how she can see ending the world as ‘right.’”