“Home of a ten-year-old,” I mumbled, shaking my head.
Just about to walk right through the door when Bodhi reached toward me, his arm wavering, hovering, before he dropped it back to his side, rearranged his expression from serious to friendly, as he said, “Riley—”
I turned, catching a look of real, genuine concern glinting in his eyes.
“It’s—it’s not what you think. There’s plenty more to the story. Stuff you should probably know about before you go in.”
But I just sighed and rolled my eyes, figuring it was just another stalling tactic, or some kind of psych-out. Figuring he was pretty much willing to do anything at this point, to make sure he won this one and keep me from a flying lesson he was so clearly reluctant to give.
“He’s a ghost. He’s ten. He goes by a bizarre name that either is or isn’t his fault—that’s yet to be determined—and I need to convince him to move on,” I said, uncurling a finger with each point made and still left with a thumb pressed against the center of my palm. “Seriously, how hard can it be? And what’s the worst he can do? It’s not like he can kill me, you know? So, now that that’s settled, can I please have at him? I’d really like to cross this one off my list—I’ve got a flying lesson to get to.”
Bodhi looked at me, a long, hard, conflicted stare. Then he shook his head and waved me away with his hand. Maybe mumbling some stuff about wishing me good luck, about how he’d be waiting right outside for me in case I needed any help—and maybe not.
I’d never know for sure.
I’d already moved on.
Buttercup and I were already on the other side of that door.
13
The first thing I saw when I entered that room was—
No, scratch that. First let me say what it wasn’t.
It wasn’t the Radiant Boy.
It also wasn’t the blue room.
In fact, nothing in that room came anywhere near a color that anyone would ever refer to as blue.
If anything, what I’d entered was the yellow room.
A room so incredibly bright and yellow, just looking at it made my eyes hurt.
“Back so soon?” Bohdi called, lounging on the banister in that slouchy way of his, chewing on a long, green straw, like the kind they give you at Starbucks, instead of his bottom lip which he was chewing on just a few moments earlier. Looking me over carefully and seemingly not the least bit surprised to see that I’d caved so early in the game.
Only I hadn’t caved.
Not even close.
If anything, I was totally on to him.
He was still trying to mind-game me. Going so far as to send me to the wrong room.
Some coach he was turning out to be.
But no biggie. It’s not like I actually needed Bodhi’s guidance anyway. I mean, what kind of help could he possibly provide when it was so painfully clear he was actually trying to sabotage me?
So afraid I’d succeed at where he so miserably failed, he’d stop at nothing to doom me.
That’s it, I decided. As soon as I got back, the first thing I would do was find Aurora, or even one of the other Council members if she wasn’t available, and I’d demand a new guide. Or, better yet, I’d become Bodhi’s guide. And the first thing on my agenda would be to give him a head-to-toe makeover. Insist he ditch the glasses, the clothes, start over with the hair—and that was just for starters. Then, once that was settled, once he wasn’t so completely embarrassing to be seen with, well, then we’d see . . .
“Sit tight. We’re not out of here yet,” I called over my shoulder as Buttercup and I made our way down the hall. “You sent me to the wrong room, as I’m sure you already know. But don’t get up. You’re gonna need all of your energy for that flight to London, so stay right where you are. It won’t be long before I track down this scary little ten-year-old and send him on to the Sweet Here After so that we can be on our way.”
I poked my head through a long series of doors, and after spying a green room, a white room, and a pink room, I’d finally found it.
Not the Radiant Boy, mind you; from what I could see, he was nowhere to be found. But there was an abundance of blue. And I mean, lots and lots of blue. Like an ocean. Yard after yard of the same blue fabric used to make up the drapes, the pillows, the blankets, even the little antique couch-and-chair set, what I think is called a settee, was upholstered in the stuff, while the walls were painted in an almost identically matching hue.