Chapter 39

“Oh, don’t play so coy, June,” Anton says with a dark laugh. I turn to him, stunned. “You seriously can’t think of any bad behavior that would piss off the God of Death?”

I blink at him in surprise and begin to wrack my brain.

But, obviously, it only takes like half a second to figure it out.

“Listen, no one told me not to go to the Deadlands,” I say with a scowl, turning to glare at Nic. “This is completely unfair.”

“You didn’t get the hint?” Nic asks, sarcastic. “Considering it’s called the Deadlands? And you’re alive?”

“No, Nic, I didn’t,” I bite back, narrowing my eyes. “And just in case you ever make the same mistake when you’re planning a trip to Not-a-Jackass-Ville, you’re not invited.”

Anton barks out a sharp laugh and then slaps a hand over his mouth, turning away, his shoulders shaking.

Nic just glowers at me, not thinking it’s nearly as funny.

I glower right back. “So, what am I supposed to do, just stay here?”

“Yes, Princess,” he says, dipping into a mocking little bow.

“And do what!?”

“You have your entire magnificent imagination at your fingertips and the ability to magically conjure anything that may keep you entertained.” He raises from his bow, his voice flat. “Figure it out.”

I scowl at him, hating this. “We wanted to go see Laila.”

Nic hesitates for a second, looking to the side.

“Do I smell a loophole?” Anton asks, cheerful and curious. I glance at him, considering that seeing other people uncomfortable brings him far too much joy. But then I just look back at Nic, realizing that that doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should.

“You cannot go to see Laila,” Nic murmurs on a sigh. “But that does not mean that she…cannot visit you.”

“Oh!” I say, perking up. “That’s perfect! Will you take her a note for me?”

Nic’s lips twist with a scowl. “I’m not your damn mailman, Juniper,” he murmurs. “Conjure it to her yourself.”

And then he disappears, making me blink in surprise.

“He’s a mean mailman,” I murmur.

“Call up some paper, Junes!” Anton urges, cheerful. “Let’s get our little mermaid over here, I’m bored.”

“How dare you, I am fascinating,” I murmur, even as I do as he says and conjure up a little writing desk and starting to write out a hasty note to my friend.

“Fascinating as you are, I’m sick of you,” Ana sighs, the drama with which he speaks making it clear that he’s kidding. I smirk even as I finish writing and start to fold the paper. “I wish Faiza would come back. Now she was interesting.”

The smirk falls from my face and I snap my head to the side, giving my handmaid a hearty glare.

Anton just grins at me, wicked.

I hold the little note up and vanish it away with my mind, conjuring it to Laila’s room, or wherever she is, ordering it magically to appear right where she can see it.

“Keep playing, Anton,” I murmur, holding my glare. “I’ll vanish you next.”

“No, you won’t,” he sighs. “You like me.”

We bicker cheerfully for the next few minutes until a little knock comes at the door. I gasp happily, dashing over to the door and pulling it open, very pleased to see Laila standing there with my note in her hands, wearing in a very gorgeous dawn-colored day dress and a silky cream wrap. As usual, she’s dripping with diamonds and pearls, and today she has tiny little seashell earrings.

“Hi!” Laila says, stepping quickly forward and wrapping me in a hug. “I’m so excited to see you! I’m…” Her words fade away as she looks over my shoulder and into my room where Anton gives her a cheerful wave.

“What?” I ask, pulling back and looking curiously at her, starting to get worried. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s all, thank you very much,” Laila says to her Herald over her shoulder. He disappears and she pushes the door shut, turning her anxious eyes to me. “Juniper,” she whispers, shaking her head a bit. “Why are you living like this?”

She gestures to the expanse of my room and my face falls as I look around.

“Is this part of your punishment? Your…” she glances down at the note. “Your grounding?”

“What are you talking about?” I murmur, glancing again at the room. I mean, it’s a little messy with all of the clothes Anton and I conjured piled in the corners but…

“Such deprivation, Juniper,” Laila murmurs, shaking her head and looking around, gasping when she sees yesterday’s dirty coffee cup still on my vanity. “Oh, you poor thing, you didn’t deserve this.”

Anton begins to laugh, falling back on the bed.

“What are you talking about!?” I sputter out. “The God of Death didn’t deprive me of anything! He just said I can’t leave the rooms!”

Laila’s mouth falls open as she stares at me, appalled. Anton just laughs harder.

“You live like this…” she whispers, “voluntarily?”

I frown at her, putting my hands on my hips. “Look, Laila, I don’t get it. I mean, it’s messy, but it’s not that bad.”

“You are a princess, Juniper Sinclair,” Laila snaps, defensive for my sake and making me grin. “And this will not do.”

I watch in a bit of awe as Laila begins to storm around the room, waving her hands around as she conjures thing after thing to get me organized and make my living arrangement “appropriate to my station and my dignity.” Her words, not mine.

Anton comes to stand next to me when she waves him off the bed and instantly replaces all the standard bedding with a gorgeous, plush duvet and about thirty assorted pillows in all shades of green. “To match your eyes,” she murmurs, glancing at me before moving on to conjure an elaborate wardrobe and closet set that folds into the corner of the room. She waves her hands at all of the clothes piled on the floor too, vanishing them away to be neatly folded inside.

“Why didn’t you get the girl gene?” Anton murmurs, nudging me with his elbow as she works. “That makes you all…good at designing living spaces?”

“I don’t know,” I mutter, crossing my arms and watching Laila with equal fascination. “My mom does all of this stuff. Ariel and I just…let it happen.”

“And what about your daughters,” Anton asks, glancing down at me with a smirk. “Who will do it for them?”

I give him a withering stare. “If you think that Ella Sinclair won’t be around to choose the clothes and furnishings of the next twelve generations of Sinclairs,” I murmur. “You’re an idiot.”

Anton just laughs as Laila continues to bustle around, conjuring up a living room set to go in the big empty center of the room and then a big stack of book cases along the wall.

“You fill up those,” she says, pointing a finger at me as she continues around the room – making it much more of a home than it’s ever been so far.

Anton and I have a great deal of fun over the next half hour, coming up with all the titles of our favorite books and stacking them on the shelves along with everything we’ve wanted to read but haven’t had the chance to. When the room’s all finished – and the bathroom as well, though I have no idea what she does in there - Laila comes back over to us and delicately waves a hand at the coffee table before the couch.

“There,” she says with a happy sigh as a variety of breakfast food appears. “Now you are ready for guests.”

“Seriously, Laila,” I say, looking around the room with admiration as I move to my fancy new couch and take a seat. “Thank you so much – it’s beautiful in here now.” Anton nods in impressed agreement as he sits by my side.

Honestly, the room does look lovely – featuring dark and moody furniture like that you might find in an old library, or a mysterious professor’s office. It reflects my personality quite perfectly, though I’d never, ever have been able to pick it all out myself.

“I thought it suited you,” Laila says happily, sitting down and picking up another one of those glasses of sea water that she likes so much, all fizzy and kelpy. “And now you can stay organized.”

“Just one last thing,” I say with a sigh, glancing at the foot of the bed and conjuring a little round dog cushion there. “For you, Anton!”

He smirks at me even as Laila straightens her shoulders. “Honestly, June, where does he sleep? Not…” she gasps, almost dropping her glass as her voice fades to a whisper. “Not with you, I hope?”

Anton and I both go a bit still as we turn to her.

Because…I mean, I don’t think either Anton or I thought for a second that him sleeping on the other half of the bed was scandalous.

But now that she says it…my cheeks flush even as Anton clears his throat.

“No, Laila, of course not,” he says, lying smoothly. “I’m a ghost – I don’t sleep. I just hang around until Juniper wakes up.”

“Oh!” Laila says, her face breaking into a smile. “Oh, of course! I’m sorry! That makes so much more sense.”

I smile at her, a little uneasy, but quickly move on to a new topic.

“So,” I say, leaning forward towards my friend as I pick up a cup and pour some coffee into it from a lovely little tea set that Laila had placed on the table. “How was your date yesterday?”

Laila blushes a satisfying red and raises a hand to her cheek as she looks down at her water. Anton and I just grin at each other. Because with that look?

Clearly, this promises to be a good story.