Antigone jumped around front and drove herself like a wedge into the crowd, pushing, shoving, shouldering a path into existence. People began to move before her elbows reached them. Cyrus, Diana, and Nolan followed.

"Nice, Tigs," Cyrus grunted.

"What's the fastest way to the hospital?" Antigone asked.

"Not hospital," Nolan mumbled.

When they reached the bottom of the main stairs, Diana shrugged Nolan off, hooked him onto Antigone, and wiped her wet face on her arm. "The fastest way is to find some nurses. Get him up the steps and wait there."

She skipped quickly up the stairs and disappeared. Cyrus watched her run. Antigone watched Cyrus watch.

"Come on, Cy." The two of them lumbered forward. "Don't forget that you're not even thirteen. She's sixteen."

"What?" Cyrus asked. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

Suddenly, Nolan tore himself free and fell onto the stairs. Cyrus and Antigone dropped beside him.

His eyes fluttered open and found Cyrus's. "Used the keys. I know Phoenix"-he swallowed, writhing-"stole the cloak. His coat. Phoenix's coat."

Nolan's nostrils were flaring, and the veins on his neck flickered above his burnt chest. His eyes sharpened with desperate pain. "The tooth. Like Maxi. Kill me."

"Nolan, stop it!" Antigone yelled. She leaned over him, holding his face. Nolan began to cry.

"Nikales," he sobbed. "The thief." Spreading his arms and legs, he leaned back, gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes.

Diana Boone and two nurses crested the stairs.

Daniel Smith opened his eyes. He didn't recognize the room. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep. He didn't know if he had been asleep.

He sat up.

Two metallic rods slid out of his nose. Curly cords rattled as he moved. They were taped all over him. He tugged thin receptors out from beneath his fingernails. He reached for his eyelids and peeled off four small pieces of tape. Tiny shaved patches dotted his scalp-each with its own coiling cord dangling down through a grid in the low ceiling. Wincing, he ripped them off in fistfuls.

Working slowly down his body, he freed himself. And then he stood.

He was a lot taller. His arms were longer, and his legs were thicker. His heart was beating slowly. Very slowly. And his eyes-he could see the fibers in the threads in the window curtain as he pulled it back. The sun, low above the water, seemed larger, and its aura clear.

Something, someone was pulling at him from somewhere. He was supposed to leave the room.

Dan turned and walked around his bed to the doorway. His hand twisted the k.n.o.b and his ears caught the smooth, oily click and slide of the hidden metal tongue.

The hallway was long and the floor was as green as a horsefly's eyes, tiled with thin rectangular pieces in a herringbone pattern.

Someone needed to be seen.

Dan walked down the hall. He chose a door, and he entered. Dr. Phoenix looked up from behind an enormous desk. Half of his mouth smiled.

"Daniel Smith," said Phoenix. "Well, don't you look splendid. And our relationship is beginning to find its proper footing." His smile grew. "You came when called." He pushed his thin body up from his chair. His lab coat was as dingy as ever. Beneath it, he was back in his white suit. "You do feel well, I hope? You're so much improved already. Not all that you will soon be, mind you, but it is a start."

Something tripped in Daniel's cotton-candy mind. Anger bubbled up in his chest and overflowed, roaring through him. A white marble bust of a bald man with a large beard rested on a wooden pedestal beside the door. Daniel's right hand found the back of its stone neck. He lifted it easily, and he threw it.

The bust spun through the air. Dr. Phoenix slipped to one side, and the heavy head crashed onto his desk.

Wood splintered. Papers flew, and gla.s.s vials shattered. The head bounced to the floor without its beard, cracked tiles, and split in half.

Breathing evenly, Daniel stared into Dr. Phoenix's pale, dilating eyes.

"Where's my mother?"

Dr. Phoenix eyed the rubble on the floor, and another small smile creased his face. "A certain amount of aggression is to be expected after even minor animalian modification, but I must say, you've been rather unkind to poor Mr. Darwin, don't you think? Do please remember that I am your friend."

"I could kill you right now," Daniel said. His voice was cold and even. Somewhere deep inside himself, he was surprised. "Take me to her."

"No, sir, and no, sir," said Dr. Phoenix. His smile vanished. "You could not kill me, and I will not take you to her." He looked Daniel up and down.

Clarity wavered. Something was changing.

The white-coated doctor eased back into his chair, and then pointed a long finger across his damaged desk to a chair on the other side.

"Mr. Daniel Smith," he said. "Such a short time, and I have already made you magnificent. Imagine what I could do in a year." He sighed. "Look at those legs of yours-thighs swollen with strength, calves of a kangaroo. Envy overwhelms me, my friend. Please, do sit down."

Daniel stepped behind the chair. He didn't sit. He was struggling to find his mind. His normal mind. The mind he had been using for twenty years. It was angry, but his anger was ... useless, erased, buried deep with unremembered dreams, taped in a cardboard box and forgotten. He shut his eyes, chasing the feeling, not wanting the rage to leave him. Why? Why should he want anger? He didn't. Not anymore.

"Sit," Dr. Phoenix said again.

Daniel sat.

The doctor grinned, picking thoughtfully at the gap in his teeth. "People repress themselves," he said. "They repress their strengths, their potential, their dreams. They close doors. I hate closed doors, Daniel. I open doors. I am an opener of doors, a realizer of potentials, a philanthropianist of human obtainments, a composer of goodnesses and judgments." He paused. "And I am your friend. Are you mine? I have given you new strengths, Daniel Smith. Will you use them for me? Will you fight for your friend?"

Daniel blinked. The man wasn't making sense.

"Yes, I am," said Phoenix.

Yes, he is, thought Daniel. Now I understand. His mind suddenly focused. His image of the thin man in the coat grew bright, as sharp and crisp as ice crystals after fog. He saw intellect. Sacrifice. Love.

"Good," said Phoenix. "Indeed, I am all of those things." He smoothed the lapels of his coat. "But every G.o.d has a devil. Anger me, disobey me, betray the gifts of my friendship, and you will meet with a storm of wrath greater than any sea can hurl up at the cliffs. In anger, the Phoenix burns. I am Dr. Phoenix. I can become Mr. Ashes."

He leaned forward, his pale eyes bright. "Soon there will be a funeral with very few guests and very many boxes. You will help me to fill them. Ashes for Mr. Ashes, and then the Phoenix will rise. Our real work will begin."

No part of Daniel Smith's mind was listening. Phoenix had mentioned the sea. And cliffs. And anger. Insuppressible memories welled up. Cold, pounding waves. His father's boat chewed and swallowed by distant rocks. His mother's unconscious body- Dr. Phoenix ground his teeth. "Daniel Smith," he said. "Where have you gone? Leave her. She will never wake up. Come back to me."

Daniel blinked. He was staring at the strange man who had taunted him and threatened him and climbed inside his head. The man who had kidnapped his mother.

Lunging across the desk, Daniel clamped his hands around the man's thin throat. They crashed backward in the desk chair and rolled onto the floor.

Daniel sat up and put his knee into the man's chest. "Where is she?" He clenched his teeth and squeezed.

Four large hands grabbed his shoulders from behind, picked him up, and threw him against the wall.

Gasping, Daniel slid to the floor.

The two men were identical-tall, lean for their strength, eyes b.l.o.o.d.y gold, features sharp, skin more green than tan. A row of skin slits fluttered on both sides of their necks. They helped Dr. Phoenix to his feet and stood behind him as he stepped toward Daniel.

Daniel coughed, swallowed blood, and tried to stand.

"Daniel Smith," said Phoenix, rubbing his throat. His eyes were sparking, and clumps of his black hair had fallen forward. He brushed them back. "These, Daniel, are my firstborn. Twins-my Romulus and Remus. They have a human mother, a wolf mother, a mother from among the great orange apes, and a mother devouring tuna in the sea. I am their father, and in them I am well pleased. You could have been their brother."

He extended his thin arms out from his sides. Behind him, the two gilled men stepped forward and began removing his coat.

Phoenix pulled his arms free of the stained sleeves and crouched in front of Daniel. His black hair began to lighten to white. His pale eyes muddied. His teeth lengthened, and a growl rumbled in his throat. "Now you must meet Mr. Ashes."

Rocking forward, Daniel slammed his fist into the man's face.

sixteen.

CONFESSION.

CYRUS SHRUGGED HIS blankets farther up around his shoulders. He had been awake for a while, but the blankets were warm, the stone bed was cushioned perfectly to his shape, and the night had been long, too much of it spent in the hospital wing watching Nolan writhe. But Horace was doing better-the nurses thought he might even wake soon. And Gunner had been there, watching his uncle breathe and gloating over Maxi's death.

Cyrus's sleep had been full of dreams, full of his fist swinging and bones crunching and Patricia swallowing people whole. But all dreams led to the one dream, and eventually, he'd ended up back in the kitchen of the California house. But this time, he'd been holding the tooth in one hand and the keys in the other. This time, he'd walked all the way outside into the rain, and his memory-vision had been clear.

He'd seen the man in the truck.

There was no way to tell what time it was without rolling over and checking the stilted clock. For the past hour, rolling over had seemed like way too much effort. It still did. His mind was too busy chewing.

Antigone's breathing was steady-slow, out of sync with the ticking clock. She sniffed. No. The sniff was wrong. A throat cleared.

Cyrus whipped over and sat up. Antigone was sleeping, virtually invisible in her nest of blankets. Seated one alcove over, Rupert Greeves was reading a book. At least, he had been reading. Now his eyes were on Cyrus. His forehead and jaw were bandaged. So was his left hand.

"What are you doing here?" Cyrus asked.

Rupert smiled. "Waiting for you to wake up. You earned your sleep yesterday." He raised his eyebrows, scrunching the bandage above them. "And down here, I do not have so many Keepers demanding access to a certain shard of tooth for their research or the monks a.s.serting ownership and demanding that I immediately execute all the occupants of the Burials. Even some of the Sages have heard the news and wandered out from their rooms. Where is it?"

Cyrus slid Patricia off his neck and held up her silver body. The keys clinked against the tooth as she slowly squirmed, rubbing against Cyrus's skin. Cyrus had liked her already. He could have spent an entire day just watching her move. But after yesterday, he loved her.

Rupert nodded. "Good. Put it back on."

"Her," Cyrus said. "She's named Patricia." She went back around his neck. "Why did you let me keep the tooth?"

"Because that is something not one of my enemies would expect me to do. And because I felt that I should."

Cyrus inhaled slowly, gathering courage. He looked straight into Rupert's eyes.

"It was you," he said quietly. "In the truck. The day our dad died. I remember your beard."

Yawning, Antigone pushed back her blankets. She blinked, looked at Rupert, at Cyrus, and sat up. "What's going on?"

Rupert Greeves set his book down and cleared his throat. Cyrus watched the man's big hands clench, and his dark skin glistened with moisture. He tugged at what remained of his short, pointed beard and then scratched the nest of old scars high on his chest.

Cyrus shifted on his seat. Antigone glanced at her brother, eyebrows up, eyes wide.

Rupert sighed and ran his bandaged hand across his scalp. "Two years ago, I was contacted by Skelton. He was insulting, but he was also warning me. Phoenix was quite near to recovering the last remaining shard of the Dragon's Tooth." He looked up. "I should tell you what the tooth is."

"We know," said Cyrus. "We've heard the story."

Greeves nodded. "Of course. Then you know that it was supposed to be destroyed-even the shards. Well-meaning fools did some horrible things with the Resurrection Stones." He looked around the little room. "Skelton told me that Phoenix knew where the last shard was-in a place where your father and I had once searched for it. Skelton and others were being sent to collect it, but he wanted me to get there first. He did not want Phoenix to have it. The man was becoming too vile-even for Billy Bones."

Rupert looked into Cyrus's eyes, and then turned to Antigone. "There weren't many people I could trust, and I was in a hurry. Your family had moved to Northern California, quite close to where I needed to be. I knew your father could help me, and I arrived at your house a few hours later-right before a storm. I saw you both then. Briefly. I did not know if you had seen me."

Antigone sat up like she'd been shocked. "What? You said two years ago. Two years ago when?"

Cyrus couldn't find words. Blinking, he could see his father smiling, the kitchen door closing, and the back of two heads as the truck bounced away.

Antigone tucked back her hair and stood up. "You were the one! How? You're supposed to be dead. Were you in the boat? What were you doing? Dad called you Rupe, didn't he? When Mom got home, she totally lost it. She put us in the Red Baron and we drove down onto the beach and just stared at the island until dark and, and ..."

Rupert coughed.

Cyrus tried to breathe slowly. The itch in his memory was gone, but it felt much worse. He didn't want Rupert to tell the story. He didn't want to hear what had happened. He was falling again, he was tumbling toward something unknown but awful. He was going to hear something that could never, ever be changed.

His heart kicked hard against his ribs.

Antigone shoved her fingernails between her teeth to keep from talking.

"I was on the island-"

"Elephant Island," she said. "With all the elephant seals. The sharks live around it. It's illegal to go on it."

"Yes."

"With the ruined mansion," she added. "And the smashed lighthouse and the tidal caves."

"Tigs!" Cyrus yelped. He couldn't have looked away from Rupert's face if he'd wanted. He needed this over.

"All those things, yes," Rupert said. "May I go on?"

Antigone nodded, chewing.

"We anch.o.r.ed the boat beneath a small cliff, and the sun was setting by the time we reached the ruined mansion. It was impossible to hear anything with the barking and bellowing seals, and they hated our flashlights. The animals were in every room of the house-upstairs and down-except the one Skelton had told us to search. That room was full of Phoenix's men. Skelton was with them. They'd gotten there too soon, and we hadn't seen their boat anch.o.r.ed in a tidal cave.