by Nazri Noor
Lastly, I reached for my neck and lifted Diana Graves’s amulet up and over my head. Its chain snagged a little on my hair, like it didn’t want to go anywhere. I set it in the center of the rug, and its red garnet eye glared unblinkingly, like a challenge.
You may note that we were missing one of the reagents, and you would be correct. But Carver said that it might still work, even without the breath of the dying. Sure, the enchantment would fundamentally be weaker, and it would tax more of my spirit, but that still gave us one additional weapon to wield against the Eldest.
I took a long, deep breath, then nodded. “I think I’m ready.”
Dad dutifully dimmed the lights, taking his place at the far end of the room, quietly tipping a beer into his mouth, his eyes wide with anticipation. I shook my head and smiled fondly. This was definitely the right place to perform the enchantment.
I lifted Mom’s amulet to my chest, holding it up in both hands so that its jewel faced the ceiling. Izanami hadn’t provided us with any incantations for casting the ritual, and so I improvised, as I always did. It was down to intent, after all, imbuing your words and your actions with purpose. The words themselves didn’t matter. Thea, once a supremely powerful enchantress herself, had taught me that.
So I turned to the very first incantation I had ever used to cast a circle of summoning, an old classic that I’d partially memorized: the marketing copy off of the back of a popular brand of doggy biscuits.
“Puppy Yum biscuits are the perfect anytime treat for your furry friends,” I droned. “Made with only the best organic beef and lamb, Puppy Yum biscuits also contain mutt-friendly grains and fiber, for – ”
The garnet began to glimmer. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dad with his mouth hanging open, the beer forgotten in his hand. I continued intoning, the words hardly making sense in relation to the process, but doing their work all the same. Give me what I need, I thought. Seal away the Eldest. Let this be the key that locks the door between our worlds.
That did the trick. The garnet shone brighter, growing warm in my hand, and a strange, stifled wind blew from beneath us. It smelled like almonds. Asher’s hair danced in the odd breeze, but his face remained staunch, resolute, his eyes reflecting the red light of the amulet.
The lock of Nyx’s hair lifted of its own accord, drifting gently in the wind, then settling into my hands. In a swirl of stars and night sky, her hair twinkled, then vanished, its essence absorbed into the amulet. Then the bottle of anguish unstoppered itself, and horrible screams – my screams – filled the house.
Asher clapped his hands over his ears, and Dad did the same, dropping his beer, his face etched with horror. He recognized my voice. He must have. But I pressed on, swallowing my fear and my remembrance of what Carver had tried to do to my heart. I watched as my own pain made liquid turned into a pale green mist, its vapors sucked into the amulet until the bottle, too, disappeared.
The screaming mercifully stopped. Asher brushed his hair out of his face, collecting himself, his breathing deeper, but Dad fixed me with a glare. He didn’t know what had happened, but he understood. I ignored him.
My eyes flitted back to the garnet as I pushed more of myself, of my very spirit into its spaces. We were just vessels, me and Diana’s amulet, and to grow its power I needed to pour more of myself in. But how much could this thing take? It fed, and it fed, burning so hot in my hand that I knew I had to let go before it scorched my skin away.
And then, just when it was too much to bear, the wind dropped, as did the amulet’s blazing heat. The garnet glimmered one last time, then went dead.
I squinted at the amulet. “Huh. Is that it?”
Asher shrugged. “Seems like it. You did everything right, didn’t you?”
“Must have,” I muttered. “I feel like drained. Like something’s been sucked out of me.”
I let my arms drop to my sides, sore from being held in the same position for so long. Mom’s amulet looked mostly unchanged, but I could sense the difference in its aura. Part of me belonged to it now, the same way that part of the amulet would always dwell in my soul.
“Well if that’s done,” Dad said, scooping up his fallen beer bottle, then heading to the kitchen for paper towels, “then we’ve got something to discuss.”
“Dad,” I groaned. “Please. Not now. I can’t do this.”
He stalked back, went down on his knees, and began mopping up the spilled liquid. “Oh, so you can basically kill yourself half to death working on this – this thing that killed your mother, but you can’t have a conversation with your own father about it?”
Asher sat perfectly still on the floor, trapped in the trajectory of Norman’s death glare.
“Dad. Please. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s the best bet we have for keeping the world safe.”
“You don’t owe them that,” he bellowed. “You don’t owe anyone anything.” The wet towels fell limply from his fingers, and he approached me, coaxing me from the rug by the shoulders. I was ready to shout back, to fight – but his eyes were wet. “You don’t owe them your life, Dust. I lost your mother to this bullshit. I’m not losing you, too.”
I forced myself to smile, biting back my own tears. “I’m not going to die,” I said through a chuckle, somehow believing my own lie. “It’s going to be okay.”
Dad’s fingers dug deep into my shoulders, pushing against my clavicles. “Promise me things will be okay. You can’t be the only thing standing between us and those fucking monsters you call the Eldest. Promise you won’t end up dead.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but couldn’t speak.
“Dustin Nathaniel Graves,” he said, his voice shaking. “Promise me.”
“I – I’ll do my best,” I said.
“Not good enough, Dust.”
Asher cleared his throat, pushing himself up off the floor. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said. “But there’s one last thing Carver asked me to do. It’s kind of why I’m here.”
Dad and I turned to him, suddenly aware that we weren’t alone. Neither of us was ashamed by the emotional display, though. This was Asher. He probably empathized better than anyone could.
“There’s another component to this enchantment, but it doesn’t have anything to do with the Eldest,” Asher said. “It’s more of a – well, a personal touch, I guess. Since it’s an artifact now, and it’s tied to you, it seems to be the perfect vessel.”
“A vessel?” I gently eased myself out of Dad’s hands. “For what, exactly?”
Asher bit his lip, unsure of how to answer. “You know how I still get to talk to my mom? How the shade of her still lingers with me?”
My spine stiffened. “Yeah. What about it?”
Asher sighed. “Since that day at Latham’s Cross, seeing you at your mom’s grave – I understand, Dust. And Norman. I understand what it means to lose someone, to want them back so badly. And being there so close to her headstone, to the last thing tying her to this earth? I felt echoes of her. She’s moved on, like my mom has.” He pressed his hands together, almost afraid. “But I can let you see her again.”
My heart stopped. I hadn’t realized before, but Dad’s hand was on mine, too, his palm rough, his fingers clenched.
“You can do that?” he breathed.
Asher nodded, a tight smile on his lips. “But only with your permission. Only if you want to. This is something so personal, but – I feel her even here. I felt her at the graveyard. It wouldn’t be too much of a drain on me.”
Dad looked at me, his eyes hard. We didn’t need to speak to seal the agreement. We both wanted this, badly.
“Do it,” I said. “Please.”
“Right,” Asher said. “Right.”
We said nothing more, only watching Asher as he walked a circle around Dad’s house, his fingers gliding across the furniture, prodding lightly at the photos of our family. Once, he stopped, holding up a specific picture of the three of us at the beach. I must have been twelve years old.
Asher completed his cycle, and when he turned to us again, his eyes were burning with pale green fire. He held out his hand. I gave him the amulet.
The chains draped over his fingers, and in the brief contact I felt that Asher’s skin was cold, like someone coming in out of chilly weather, or like a corpse. He closed his hand around the amulet as the garnet began to glow its ominous crimson.
Asher shut his eyes, and I could swear the room around us went darker. He held his fist to his lips, muttering softly into it, but when he spoke, I heard other voices. So many of them helping with his spell, completing whatever magic it was that he was working.
Then all at once, the voices stopped. The room went brighter.
“It’s done,” Asher said, returning the amulet. By the lines under his eyes he almost looked older, wearier. I gripped his hand.
“Thank you,” I said. “Whatever it was you did. Thank you.” I looked down in my hands. The gem was dull again. “So. Um. What now?”
“Put it on,” Asher said.
So I did, the star-metal of the amulet cool against my skin, tingling as it made contact, as if recognizing its creator. I looked around us, seeing nothing, feeling nothing new – until I felt soft, cold fingers looping through mine.
There she was, where she wasn’t before. A pale imitation of how she looked in life, her skin glowing with a bluish-white pallor, her hair drifting in wind that none of us could feel. She wore one of her sun dresses, its flowers and lightness such contrast to the dark of her hair, dark as mine. My heart thumped against the inside of my chest, hurting now more than ever, my throat choked with tears.
“Diana?” my father breathed. “Is it really you?”
“Norman,” the apparition said in my mother’s voice, reaching eager fingers for his hands. She smiled at him, and for the first time in so many years, I heard my father weep, and blubber.
“Mom?”
Diana Graves turned to me, her eyes as blue as a summer sky, as blue as mine.
“Dust,” she said, her voice heaving with longing and relief. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Chapter 24
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Dad said, his voice trembling.
Asher had fetched him a glass of water, half of which he’d already gulped. I was chugging down the other half, still staring at the illusion of my dead mother, sitting with us on the sofa.
Mom shrugged. “Well, here I am. And here you are.” Her eyes caught the garnet on my neck, and her mouth made a little twist. “And there’s that tiny little thing that killed me.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “There’s a lot to catch up on, to say the least.”
She gasped softly, her hand fluttering to her chest, and she turned to Asher. “You. I forgot to thank you for what you did. I can’t believe I get to speak to them again.”
Asher smiled broadly, as if he wasn’t talking to a memory, a mere recording of who my mother was in life. “It’s really not a problem, ma’am. I’m glad to help.”
“There really is so much to catch up on,” Mom said. “Starting with this.” She waved her hand around the room, at us. “What’s going on? Is everybody a wizard in the future?”
Dad laughed. “Not exactly. But it turns out Dust here has some – well, let’s just say he’s got some uncommon talents.”
“My baby, a wizard.” Mom chuckled, her voice going up an octave. “What the hell am I even saying? This hardly makes sense.”
“It really doesn’t,” I assured her. “But all you need to know is that I can do some really weird stuff. Cool stuff.” I sat up straight, my shoulders broadening. “Also, I’ve got a job now. Been at it for a while, thanks very much. Asher over there, he’s my coworker, but also, like, my roommate.”
Diana looked between the three of us, smiling. “I’m glad that you’ve done so much with yourself, Dust. And to think, we had no idea what you were even going to end up doing. You were so good at so many things, you know? Moving from one hobby to another.” She laughed again. “Leaving everything in the dust. You know that’s why your father and I use that nickname, right?”
“I’m well aware, Mom,” I grumbled.
“I thought he was going to become a mechanic,” Dad offered.
I chuckled. “Right.”
“Or an artist,” Mom said. “Or a journalist. Or a soccer player. Honestly, Dust, we had no idea.”
“R-right. I get it, Mom.”
“Jack of all trades, master of – ”
“I said I got it. Can we talk about something else, please?”
“Oh, of course we can,” she said, flipping her hair over one shoulder, resting her chin in her hand. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”
I froze.
“Ooh,” Asher said.
I glared at him.
“Any girlfriend?” she continued. “Maybe girlfriends? Ooh. Boyfriends?”
“Mom,” I whined, giving the word four extra syllables.
“I think he’s sweet on that Igarashi boy,” Dad said, elbowing me in the ribs. “Japanese kid, super handsome, wears glasses, has a great job,” he added, fleshing out Herald’s portfolio for my mother’s sake.
With each phrase, her eyes and her grin grew wider, and with each phrase, my ears burned more and more. Reflexively, my hand reached for my pocket, but I just let it sit there, just over my phone. I wondered if Herald was still annoyed at me.
“Enough,” I barked. “Come on, you guys, stop teasing me. We haven’t been together like this for ages.”
“Damn right,” Mom said, gesturing at the house. “Let’s start with this dump. Norman!” She shoved him in the chest, the immateriality of her form letting her hand pass through his shirt for the glimmer of a moment, like a hologram. “What have you done to our beautiful house?”
Dad looked at me, smiled sadly, then sighed. “It’s a long story. But Dust here helped me out.”
We sat there for what felt like hours, Mom making a circuit of the house, looking at old pictures, getting a little sad when she tried to make a cup of coffee for Asher, except that the shade of her body couldn’t become corporeal enough to do anything other than rustle the filters or disturb the instant coffee grains a little.
“It’s really okay, Diana,” Asher said kindly. “I can fix a cup for myself.”
“It’s so strange, really,” Mom said, her voice distant. “I feel like I’m here, only, not entirely, you know? Like some part of me is missing.”
Dad looked her up and down. “Well, your body, for one.”
She smacked him on the shoulder, as hard as a ghost can smack a living person. “I know that Norm.” Dad flinched, more from her glare than the impact. “Still, I’m glad we get to do this at all. I’d like to spend more time with the both of you. Dust, how often do you visit your father?”
My cellphone went off just then, blaring so loudly that it startled us all. I rummaged through my pocket, my heart ratcheting up to a quickened pace. Was it Herald? Man. Why was I so excitable?
No, I realized, looking at the screen. It was Royce. What the hell? I picked up, already frowning.
“Listen, I’m in the middle of something, and I think it’s really sweet that you want to call me in the middle of the day and chitchat, but we really should start seeing other people, and – ”
“Shut the fuck up,” Royce barked. “Shut your stupid mouth and get the hell out of there.”
“What?”
“Is your sword with you? Did you do anything with it? Something different. Destroy it, modify it, enchant it, whatever. The Heart got a read on a load of magic being put into some star-metal, and now – ”
“Jesus,” I said, leaping off the couch. “Everyone. We have to get out of here. Now.”
“What is it?” Mom said, her eyes wide.
“Just, we have to go, Mom. Please. Everyone, right now.”
It was so strange, seeing my father’s fingers loop around my ghost mother’s wrist as they ran out the front door.
I wondered, for a moment, if the neighbors would freak out, though her skin didn’t have quite as much of its eerie luminescence outside. Though as Asher and I stumbled out after them and onto the lawn, I understood that the neighbors wouldn’t have cared either. There was a whole lot more to worry about just then.
Something like a crimson star hung menacingly in the night sky. I had no way of confirming, but I could tell that it was heading straight towards my father’s house.
“Dustin?” Royce yelled into my ear. “Are you still there?”
“Asher, get them away from here,” I said.
“But – ”
“Now,” I bellowed. “Get them to safety. Run as fast and as far as you can, and don’t stop.”
“Dustin,” Dad said. “Dust, you’re not staying here to fight whatever that thing is. It’s not worth your life.”
I watched as the Heart’s orbital beam streaked its way towards the earth, a blood-red comet. It could strike the house, and much worse, it could flatten the entire neighborhood. There were too many people out here, too many innocents. I had to do something to protect them.
“I’ll be okay, Dad,” I said. “Mom. You two go with Asher. He’ll keep you safe.”
“Dustin,” Dad begged, tugging on my jacket. “Please.”
“No,” I said. “Go. Now.”
Asher was as good as a brother, corralling my parents and dragging them away from the house, disappearing behind the neighbor’s fence and running off into the night. My phone dropped from my hand, Royce’s voice still issuing from it like the drone of some huge, annoying insect. I drew Vanitas out of my backpack, and he flew out of my hands.
“What’s going on?” he said. “Oh.”
Either he saw through my eyes, or perceived in that odd, unexplained way that he could. Didn’t matter, same result: he knew that the Heart was coming.
“Stab me,” I said. “Cut me open. Anywhere you want. Just make sure I bleed. A lot.”
“You’re insane.”
“Do it,” I said. “I know I always treat you as a friend, V, but right now I am commanding you to do it.” I glared at him, his garnets glaring defiantly back. “I order you to stab me!”
