Jix chose not to answer that question because it didn’t matter. “Elsewhere,” he said. “I’m sure she and her vapor circled around to the north just to avoid you. And even if you do find her, you won’t defeat her. She’s too cunning, too smart, too good at what she does. You will not stand a chance against her.”
Allie crossed her arms. “We’ll see about that.”
But Jix took a few steps closer. “How many times have you faced her?” he asked. “How many times have you failed?”
“This time will be different,” the chocolate boy said.
“How will it be different?” Jix asked, but none of them had an answer. Good, thought Jix. Because when facing a spirit like Mary Hightower, knowing you knew nothing was the best place to start.
“And we have another skinjacker on our side,” Jix told them. “I believe you know her.”
* * *
Jill put her cat to sleep next to Jix’s, joining them, and they all spoke through the morning, sitting in the shade of a crossed oil well that had burned into a charred knot many years before. The decisions they reached were not easy, but Jix was persuasive in his simple, obvious logic.
Fact: The seven of them could not hope to battle Mary and her maniacal vision alone.
Fact: Mary’s skinjackers were her weakness, for she needed them to do her bidding in the living world.
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.”