Dreamland (Riley Bloom #3)(41)
I nodded, giving Buttercup one last scratch on the head before allowing him to leap from my lap to the ground so he could go sniff all the diners and beg for table scraps—clueless to the fact that they couldn’t even see him.
“Sounds like business as usual,” I replied, with a little more bravado than I felt. While the Colosseum was certainly intimidating, nothing Bodhi had said sounded like all that big a deal. “Pretty much all the ghosts I’ve dealt with were intense,” I continued. “And yet, I was still able to reach them, still able to convince them to cross the bridge and move on, so I’m pretty sure I can convince this Theocoles dude to cross over too. Easy-peasy.” I nodded hard to confirm it, turning just in time to catch the wince in Bodhi’s gaze.
“There’s something more you need to know,” he said, his voice quiet and low.
“Theocoles was the champion gladiator back in his day. Feared by all—defeated by none.”
“Did you say gladiator?” I gaped, thinking surely I’d misunderstood.
Bodhi nodded, quick to add, “They called him the Pillar of Doom.”
I blinked, tried to keep from laughing, but it was no use. I knew the name was supposed to sound scary, but to me, it sounded like some silly cartoon.
My laughter faded the second Bodhi shot me a concerned look and said, “He was a champion gladiator. A real primus palus, that’s what they called them, which, just so you know, translates to top of the pole.
Widely considered to be the toughest, scari-est, strongest, most fearless creature of the bunch. This is nothing to laugh about, Riley.
I’m afraid you’ve got some serious work cut out for you. But then again, you did beg for a challenge.”
My shoulders slumped and I buried my face in my hands, my short burst of confidence dying the moment the reality of my situation sank in.
I mean, seriously—a gladiator? That’s the challenge the Council saw fit to assign me?
It had to be a trick, or maybe even a joke of some kind.
It had to be the Council’s way of getting back at me for always ignoring their rules in favor of making my own.
How could I—a skinny, scrawny, semi-stubby-nosed, flat-chested, twelve-year-old girl—how could I possibly take on a big, strong, raging hulk of a guy who’d spent the better part of his life chopping his competi-tion into small, bloody bits?
Just because I was dead—just because he couldn’t technically harm me—didn’t mean I wasn’t quaking with fear. Because I was—I really, truly was. And I’m not afraid to admit it.
“I know it seems like a lot to ask of a fairly new Soul Catcher such as yourself,” Bodhi said. “But not to worry, the Council only assigns what they know you can handle. The fact that you’re here means they believe in you, so it’s time you try to believe in you too.
You have to at least try, Riley. What is it Ma-hatma Gandhi once said?” He looked at me, pausing as though he actually expected me to provide the answer, and when I didn’t, he said, “Full effort is full victory.” He paused again, allowing the words to sink in. “All you can do is give it your best shot. That’s all anyone can ever ask of you.”
I sighed and looked away. Believing in myself was not something I was used to struggling with—if anything, I bordered on dangerously overconfident. Then again, the situation I faced wasn’t the least bit normal, or usual for that matter. And even though I knew I’d asked, if not begged for it, I still couldn’t help but resent the Council just the tiniest bit for indulging me.
“And what about those other Soul Catchers?” I asked.
“The ones who were sent before me and failed? I’m assuming the Council believed in them too, no?”
Bodhi chewed his straw, ran a nervous hand through his hair, and said, “Turns out, it didn’t end so well for them … .” I squinted, waiting for more.
“They got lost. Sucked so deep into his world that they …” He paused, scratched his chin, and took his sweet time to clear his throat before he said, “Well, let’s just say they never made it back.”
I stared, my mouth hanging open, empty of words.
I was outmatched. There was no getting around it. But at least I wouldn’t have to go it alone. At least I had Bodhi and Buttercup to serve as my backup.
“But please know that Buttercup and I will be right here if you need us. We’re not leaving without you, I promise you that.” I looked at him, my eyes practically popped from their sockets, my voice betray-ing the full extent of my hysteria when I said,
“You expect me to go in alone?” I shook my head, unable to believe how quickly things had gone from very, very bad to impossibly worse. “I thought that as my guide, it was your job, not to mention your duty, to guide me. And what about Buttercup? Are you seriously telling me that I can’t even bring my own dog to protect me?”
I turned, my gaze sweeping the restaurant until I’d zeroed in on my sweet yellow Lab all crouched under a table, chewing on a shiny gold stiletto a diner had slipped off her foot.
Reminding myself that historically speaking, he’d never proved to be all that great of a backup. When push came to shove he was actually more scaredy-cat than menacing guard dog—but still, he was loving, and loyal (well, for the most part), and surely that was better than going alone.