Evertrue

TWENTY-TWO

NOW

The Surface. Hotel Monaco.

Will met us a while later with his laptop. He glanced at the single king-size bed. “Kinky,” he said.

Jack punched him lightly on the shoulder, nearly sending Will to the floor.

“What did you find?” Jack said.

Will rubbed his shoulder as he walked over to the desk and set down his laptop.

“First off, I found nothing about ‘Cronus Tantalus’ together. But separating the two words, I found a lot. Cronus.” He pointed to his screen. “Cronus was a Titan—offspring of Uranus—Heaven—and Gaia—Earth. He was jealous of his father’s power. His mother also hated Uranus because when she gave birth to this kid that had like a billion hands, or eyes, or something, Uranus hid the kid so he’d never see the light of day. To get back at Uranus, Gaia convinced her son, Cronus, to castrate his own father. She gave him a sickle, and he did the deed.”

Will held up his hands as if he were expecting applause.

Cole, Jack, and I just stared.

“It’s not my fault it’s a horrible story,” Will said. “Myths. They’re all horrible stories.”

“It’s not that,” I said. “It’s just that the words ‘Cronus Tantalus’ were all we had to go on, and I can’t figure out how that story helps us.”

Will shrugged. “What was the Cronus clue in reference to?” he asked.

“Destroying the Shade network,” Jack said.

Will squinted at the computer screen again. “Well, if you want to destroy something, you probably need a strong weapon. . . .” He flipped the screen so that we could all see a drawing of the sickle. “It’s forged out of the toughest stone on Earth. Adamant. And it can supposedly destroy anything.”

I looked at Cole. “Do you think that’s what Ashe was getting at? Telling us about the only thing in the world that would be strong enough to destroy the network?”

He nodded.

“It’s the best theory we’ve got,” Jack said. “But do we know where it is?”

I looked from Jack’s face to Cole’s, to Will’s, hoping that someone would have some sort of input; but the only sound came from the fan in Will’s computer.

“What about Tantalus?” I said.

“Ah,” Will said, typing something into his computer. “This one is a little more obscure. Tantalus was famous for his eternal punishment. He was made to stand in a pool of water under a fruit tree with low-hanging branches. Each time he reached up to pluck some fruit, the branches lifted out of reach. Each time he reached below for water, the water receded. Thus he was always longing for food and water but never getting it. And yes, I used the word thus in a sentence.”

I bit my lip, trying to figure out the significance of the story, but came up with nothing. I expected blank faces all around again, but Cole’s mouth hung slightly open as he stared at the computer screen.

“What is it?” I said to Cole.

“Tantalus,” he said. He turned his head toward me. “I know where the sickle is.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Tantalus is a lake,” Cole said. He squeezed his eyes shut. “It’s a place not many people know about, but Ashe and I know it. I can’t even remember why we do, but we do. I thought the name sounded familiar, but I didn’t make the connection until you mentioned the water.”

I held my breath for a moment, worried that the renewed memory would spark a flood more and that Cole would suddenly realize he didn’t want to destroy the Everneath. But nothing happened.

“It’s in the Ring of Earth,” Cole continued.

“In which Common?” I asked.

“Not in a Common. In the void between Ouros and Limneo.” His eyes went wide as the name Limneo just rolled off his tongue as if he’d known it all along. “Limneo. Another Common, right?”

I nodded and tried to keep his focus on Tantalus before his mind started wandering and remembering other key things.

“So Tantalus,” I said. “You think the sickle might be hidden there?”

Cole smiled. “That’s the thing about Tantalus. Whatever you most desire in the world will be hidden there, but you can only traverse the lake once in your lifetime. We didn’t want to waste it until there was something we really needed.”

Jack and I exchanged glances. “We really need the Sickle of Cronus,” I said.

“Then let’s go get it,” Cole said.

Will wanted to come with us, but Jack convinced him to stay and email Professor Spears, to catch him up on everything we were doing.

We left Will in the hotel room, and Jack drove us to the Shop-n-Go, where the same confused clerk watched with raised eyebrows as we entered the store and walked to the back, then formed a circle, holding hands.

He was probably understanding why Ezra went a little crazy.

This time Cole didn’t hand me a strand of hair.

“I know where I’m going,” he said. “I’ve been there. I can picture it.”

“Which means we should be able to land directly there since it’s not in the labyrinth,” I said.

We didn’t waste any more time talking, and within moments we were spinning through the darkness.

I landed on my back looking at the fake azure sky, but the blue canvas was broken up by pine trees stretching high, towering above me.

I sat up on a bed of pine needles. “Are we in a forest?” I asked.

“A forest with a lake,” Cole said.

I turned around and saw that we were on the edge of a huge clearing that held a giant lake, at least the size of Jenny Lake near Jackson Hole. The water was clear and blue; and except for the fact that there wasn’t a single ripple on its surface, it could’ve been a lake anywhere in the Rocky Mountains.

I pushed myself up to a standing position and walked to the water’s edge. I breathed in deeply, expecting the smell of pine; but there was no odor, although I felt the needles crunching beneath my feet.

“Don’t touch the water,” Cole said. “You know how the water works here. Makes you forget things.”

I paused in my tracks and raised my eyebrows. “Yeah. I’m just surprised you know,” I said.

I took a step back. Jack came up beside me, put his arm around my shoulders, and stared out at the lake.

“So Cole,” he said. “Where is the sickle?”

Cole shielded his eyes, even though there was no sun. “In the middle.”

“Of the lake?” I said.

“Yes. In the middle. Underwater.”

“What?!” I said. “How are we supposed to get it? Swim?”

Cole laughed. “No. Even if you could swim to the middle without drowning in the water—and without ingesting any, or forgetting why you’re there in the first place—it’s far under-water. So . . . then you would drown.”

Jack’s fists clenched.

I stepped purposefully between him and Cole. “What was your plan, Cole?” I said.

“I don’t know. I always thought that when I wanted something bad enough to wish for it here, I would figure it out then.”

I grabbed Jack’s fist with both of my hands before he exploded, but he wasn’t even paying attention to Cole anymore. He was staring out across the water. “There’s a tree out of place,” he said.

I looked all around us. “How can you tell? You know where each one belongs?”

He smiled and pointed to a spot that was maybe a quarter mile away. “That tree.”

I followed his gaze and saw exactly what he was talking about. In a sea of pine trees, there was one bushy fruit tree right by the edge of the water.

The myth of Tantalus talked about a fruit tree. It had to mean something. We followed Jack as he navigated a pathway to the fruit tree, keeping us close to the water.

“Maybe the sickle will be hidden in the tree,” I said.

“Yeah,” Jack said, turning and shooting me a grin. “Maybe it will be that easy.”

We made it to the tree. Searched the ground surrounding the trunk of the tree. Looked up in the branches. Tried to find anything that looked like a sickle. Or a scythe. Or a dagger. Or a sword.

There was nothing.

Cole didn’t help search. He stood there staring at one of the branches.

“Are we boring you, Cole?” I said.

“That branch looks different,” he said. He reached up and pulled on it, but it didn’t budge. But he was right; it was different. The base of the branch, where it was attached to the trunk of the tree, looked as if it could pivot with the right amount of force. “Hercules, you come try it,” Cole said.

Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Cole?” I said. “That sounded like the old Cole. A little bit.”

“Really?” He seemed genuinely shocked. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said. “Anything you can remember . . . is a good thing.” I tried to sound convincing, but I didn’t succeed.

Jack went over to the branch and pulled. It didn’t budge. He tried again until he was hanging with his entire body weight. The branch creaked as if it thought about moving but then didn’t.

“Both of you need to hang on it,” I said.

Cole reached up and added his body weight, and the branch finally gave way. That’s when the ground shook. And the waves started.