by Ashta, Lucia
Never before had I heard such determination from him. I had no doubt that what he said was true. If only I could discover Albacus’ whereabouts, Mordecai would set him free. Because he wouldn’t give up until he did.
“There isn’t much more I can tell you,” he said. “As much as I’ve studied the spirit world, there’s only so much I can learn while still alive.” He sighed, and tugged at his beard, looking suddenly nervous about it all. “Do you have any questions about what to do?”
I had just short of a million. He was asking me to do something mind boggling, something I was entirely unprepared for. But I didn’t think continuing to hash it out would be of any use. As long as I held onto the end of my rope, then I could at least try.
There was no guarantee I’d find Albacus, but so long as I preserved the way to return to my body, I’d give it my all. Assuming I could do any of the ridiculous things Mordecai instructed me to.
I told Elwin, “Tell him I don’t have any questions that’ll make any difference,” and this time it only took a few moments for Arianne to parrot what I’d said.
“All right then,” Mordecai said. “We’ll all be silent while you do this. You’ll need every bit of concentration. Remember, hold onto that lifeline no matter what. Best of luck to you... and, Isa?”
“Yes,” I replied uselessly.
“Thank you.” His voice was thick. His eyes watered.
I resolved to find his brother. It was bad enough that Albacus was dead; the brothers needed to be together.
I began to close my eyes then popped them right back open. “Elwin, please tell Nando I love him, and that no matter what happens, that I want him to know he’s the best brother I could have hoped for, and that he made my life better every day.” My voice broke, but with Elwin alone, I wasn’t embarrassed. The firedrake was wise and compassionate.
“Tell him…” I choked on my words. There was so much I should say if it was to be the last chance I got. But if I acted as though I wasn’t coming back, would I contribute to bringing about that result? I hadn’t forgotten Arianne’s teaching that thoughts and words were energy, and that magic was little more than energy. So I swallowed the many things I wanted to say to the brother I loved more than anything else in the world. “Just tell him I love him.”
I trailed off, holding back the feeling of tears, even though I wasn’t sure whether or not I could even cry in this spirit form.
Elwin nodded sagely, and bent his head to Arianne.
I prepared for Arianne to announce my words to the crowd gathered in the garden around my body, but she surprised me by moving to Nando’s side, and whispering the words to him alone.
My brother’s eyes flared and his head whipped wildly side to side, looking for me, although he must have known he wouldn’t find me. “No, Isa! No! Don’t you say that to me.”
Eyebrows raised in surprise around the group.
“Don’t you dare say that to me.” But Nando’s voice had lost its edge, and sounded close to crumbling. He’d been standing, and now he slumped to the ground to hold my hand, the one that was limp and lifeless.
“You know I love you too,” he said while staring at my face, the one that looked like I was slumbering. “So much. Please come back to me, please.”
He opened his mouth to say more, then closed it. Instead, he tilted his eyes upward, right to the place where I stood.
His eyes were filled with such anguish that desperation filled me anew to get this over with and return to my body. I couldn’t see my brother this way: broken.
He was supposed to be strong and capable.
I had to hurry so I could keep him that way.
“I’m ready,” I told Elwin, took one last, long look at Nando, then a quick glance at Walt, and closed my eyes.
The moment Arianne relayed my readiness, a deep and foreboding silence descended upon the garden.
Not even the hellhounds, rarely silent, growled or snarled. The talkative Sir Lancelot and Madame Pimlish pursed beak and lips.
Birds, oblivious to my plight, chirped happily in the background.
But when I closed my eyes and prepared to settle into myself, their sounds faded into nothingness.
There was only an awareness of myself... and a mission. Nothing more, and nothing less.
Life and death were on the line.
Chapter 3
Once silence descended, there was no reason to delay, and I wouldn’t allow myself to find one anyway. The sooner I got this done, the sooner I could return to my body, and start working to put this nightmare behind me.
I closed my eyes to block out the images of the people I so desperately wanted to rejoin. I longed for the company of even those I hadn’t entirely liked while I’d been alive. Besides, the looks of anguish carved upon their faces were far from reassuring. They looked as if I were dead already, which I actually was, and the reminder only made everything worse.
I was already dead, dead, dead. I was clutching at a desperate hope that I could reverse my current state of existence.
Focus, Isa. You have to concentrate.
I knew what to do—sort of. All I had to do was go through the motions.
I settled into myself for a moment. Breathed in and out several times. Even though I no longer needed breath, it served to calm me, just as it did when I was alive.
All right. No big deal. I’ve got this.
I pushed my panic aside, shoved my doubts that I could accomplish this ridiculous mission, and sent out feelers. What would my lifeline feel like? Despite Mordecai’s descriptions, I wasn’t entirely sure.
I realized exactly what it was the moment I sensed it.
There was little else the line of energy could be. It pulsated with life. Vibrated and glowed behind my mind’s eye.
It was the gift of life and I wanted to touch it. I wanted to wrap it around me and sink into its comfort.
This one line, no thicker than an average rope, contained the potential of an entire lifetime. Its pulsation spoke of my chances to fully grow into the woman I was capable of becoming. Perhaps even to one day begin a family of my own. Without parents to broker my marriage, I might be allowed the luxury of marrying the man I loved—assuming he’d have me without dowry or position.
The lifeline fluttered with possibilities, and I wanted to claim every single one of them. I was only seventeen. I deserved a long life of opportunities.
Nervous but pretending I wasn’t, I reached forward to wrap both hands firmly around the rope. I didn’t know how I knew to do this particular part—perhaps it was instinct—but I didn’t reach for it with my translucent hands but rather with the imaginary hands of my mind.
Maybe it was because the lifeline was visible only in my imagination, but I was certain this was how it had to be. Despite the stakes, I didn’t waver, and clutched—hard—onto the rope with my mind.
I held onto that line with everything I had, and gave it an exploratory tug.
To my surprise, the lifeline snapped free immediately.
I wasn’t ready for it, thinking it would take far more effort than that to release it, and I scrambled to travel the hands of my mind down the rope until I reached its end.
Only once I had the tip of the lifeline in my grasp did the shock hit me. I’d done it.
Without releasing the end of the line, I wove it around an arm, weaving and wrapping until the entirety of it circled my arm. With a steel grip, I clasped the end of the rope in the same hand.
Step one, complete. I was certain that if I were still in my physical body I’d be freaking out. I was experiencing the sensations of a thumping heart and fluttering breathing without the organs.
Next I had to... what was it that Mordecai had said? Allow my consciousness to roam free? Something like that. It was time to search for Albacus.
I couldn’t help the surge of excitement that I was moving through the paces quickly. Nando had given Mordecai two hours, but that included the time he’d used to instruct me. At this rate,
I might even manage to return ahead of time.
I smiled my encouragement despite the fact that I’d never been more nervous in my entire life—uh, death.
“Greetings,” a small voice said.
I screamed so loudly that I popped my eyes open. When I did, I dropped the end of my rope, and scrambled back inward to find it, grateful that I’d had the foresight to wrap all of the line around my body. Only once I had the rope firmly in my grasp did I dare open my eyes again.
The girl looked as frightened as I did—and equally translucent.
I stared at her for a few beats while I willed my nonexistent heart to stop beating like a herd of wild horses through my nonexistent chest.
“Holy heck in a gilded handbasket,” I finally said. “Are you trying to kill me again?” My voice came out too much like a shriek, but I couldn’t help it.
“I, uh, didn’t mean to, ah, scare you or anything.” The girl, who looked to be about thirteen, and as dead as I was, was shrinking backward. “I’ll go away.”
She began fading from sight.
“No, wait,” I said. She looked so very sad, so despondent. I couldn’t let her go.
I closed my eyes for just long enough to confirm that I continued to hold onto my lifeline. It appeared that I was, yet because of the distraction, I wasn’t sure.
I felt my hold around the rope, and so long as I did, it seemed to be enough to maintain my grip.
I allowed myself to study the girl. She was shy and pretty, in an outdated dress and plaited reddish hair. The colors were faded since she was mostly see-through. I figured when she was alive she would have had flaming-red hair and a dress of the highest fashion. Blue was an expensive pigment, and her clothing suggested it was of the brightest hue.
What most drew my attention, however, were the girl’s eyes. They were big, soft, and helpless. My instincts drove me to help her however I could.
I breathed in and out as much as I could, and decided to start over. “Sorry. You startled me. I didn’t expect someone to approach me like that.”
She nodded timidly. “I saw you die. I was waiting for you.”
“So... you’re dead?” Not exactly the type of conversation I would have called ordinary before today.
“Yes.” That one word was leaden. “I’ve been dead for a long time.”
“But you’re still here?”
She nodded. “I can’t leave.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know how. It took me a while to figure out I was dead. Once I did, there was nothing to take me from here.”
“Why are you here?”
She simply floated in front of me, her feet not quite touching the ground, eyes big and round and innocent.
“I mean, why here? Why Acquaine?”
She shrugged. Her eyes were a little unnerving, never leaving my face, never blinking. I tried hard not to allow myself to think her eerie. After all, I was dead too, wasn’t I?
“I died here,” she said.
“Oh? Did you live here then?”
“I did. I suppose I’m her great-great-aunt.” She pointed a willowy arm toward Clara.
I quickly did a rough mental calculation, assuming twenty years per generation. Clara looked to be in her early twenties. Which meant this girl had passed away approximately eighty-five or so years ago.
I swallowed a gasp. Had this girl been dead, alone, and confused all that time?
“So you died more than eighty years ago?” My voice was overflowing with sympathy. It sounded like a terrible fate, stuck here, unable to move on. And she was only a girl!
“No.” The girl pointed again. “I don’t mean Clara or Gertrude. I mean Arianne.”
I gasped aloud before I could stop myself. That meant she’d been dead for more than a hundred-and-twenty years! “I’m—I’m so sorry.” What else was there to say? No wonder the poor girl looked so sad.
The girl shrugged again, as if she wasn’t going to say anything, then spoke anyway. “It’s been difficult.”
“You—you’ve stayed here with the family then?” I wasn’t sure what to say. “You know Arianne and Clara and Gertrude. You must also be familiar with Gustave.”
She nodded. “There was nowhere else for me to go. Even though they’re unaware of me, at least here I’m with family.”
But she wasn’t, not really. She was all alone, and had been for a terribly long time.
My sense of hurry renewed with that thought. I wouldn’t allow myself to succumb to her same fate. I had to move on to finding Albacus.
But... now that I’d seen her, how could I leave her here?
As if she sensed what I was thinking, she asked, “Do you think you could help me move on to wherever I’m supposed to go?”
When I hesitated, she implored. “Please, I can’t stay here all by myself forever. It’s... awful.”
She misunderstood my reason for pause. I didn’t want to abandon her here. It was that I had no idea how to help her move on.
Her eyes pleaded with me, and so I spoke with feigned confidence. “I’ll help you. I won’t return to my body before helping you however I can. We’ll find the way for you to move on from here.”
“Really?” Her eyes nearly glittered, and they would have, had she not been dead.
I wondered if I shouldn’t have said what I did, but I already had. I took a moment to ensure I was still holding onto the lifeline to my body, then said, “I promise I’ll try.”
I couldn’t promise anything more. I was a novice in magic. And here I was, dealing with the spirit world,
Wait a minute. “Has your family practiced magic for very long?” I didn’t know for sure whether magic was inherited, but given how strong Arianne and Gustave’s was, and how easily they navigated the magical world, it seemed likely. Arianne had surely passed it on to Clara and Gertrude.
“My mother was a witch, as was my grandmother, and her mother before her.”
My imaginary pulse picked up. “And you? Did you have magic... before you passed?” I was trying to use delicate phrasing until I decided this girl would want her languishing to end more than have me tiptoeing around the fact that she was no longer living.
“I did. My magic wasn’t particularly strong, and I was still learning, but yes, I was a witch in training when I... died.”
“That’s good news. Not that you died, but that you knew some magic.”
“Why?”
“Because I have very little magic, and what I do have, isn’t inclined to help us.” I didn’t think the ability to portal would be of any help with her predicament.
“Oh.” Her earlier enthusiasm deflated. “I was hoping you might know what you’re doing.”
“No, I don’t, but that doesn’t mean we can’t figure it out together. I’ve already managed to figure out how to untether my lifeline from my body so that I can look for Albacus and still return to life afterward.”
Her face revealed no reaction, so I moved to explain. “Albacus is—”
“I know. I have nothing to do but watch and listen. I heard everything. You have less than two hours to return to your body.”
“That’s right.” And how much of that two hours had already passed? At least half an hour, but I wasn’t good at measuring time when I wasn’t under pressure. I definitely wouldn’t rely on myself when it was this important.
A thought struck me. What would happen once the time was up? If I wasn’t around the magicians, then how would I know? If they called me, would I hear them if I was wandering the spirit world?
I worried. That would have been an important point to go over before I disconnected from my body.
“You don’t have time to help me,” the spirit said.
“It’s true, I don’t,” I blurted out. When her face drooped more than before, I hastened to add, “But if I hurry, I can make time. What’s your name?”
“Sibylle.”
“Sibylle, I’m Isa.”
“I know.”
“Right.
” I kept forgetting, because it was highly strange to accept that she’d been watching us without our knowledge. “Do you have any ideas of how I can help you move on to, well, wherever spirits are supposed to go?”
“None. Don’t you think I’ve tried to figure it out during all this time?” She looked away, then back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sharp with you. It’s just that I’ve been trying for so long, and nothing in my family’s magic prepared me for this. I have no idea whatsoever of what to do. Nobody came to get me to lead me away. No arrows lit up to direct me. No glowing bush spoke to me. I’m stuck.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
After another quick internal check to make sure I still had my lifeline in a vise-like grip, I looked to Nando. He was checking the face of the pocket watch Papá had given him the day he left us at his brother’s house.
Time was short.
“Here, take my hand.”
“What for?” she asked, but still took my translucent hand as best she could, considering that neither one of us was solid.
“To get you out of here.”
Sibylle nodded, looking cautiously optimistic. “What are you going to do?”
I have no idea. “I’ll come up with something. Staying here isn’t working, so let’s leave. It’s what I was planning on doing anyway. I have to find Albacus. He might know, or something might happen that will show us the way.”
Those big eyes studied me.
“Would you rather stay here?”
“No!”
“Then are you ready?”
“Oh yes. Thank you.”
“Then let’s go.” I tugged on her hand, not sure whether I was actually touching it or not, closed my eyes again, and let my consciousness float away from my body.
My nearly impossible mission had just gotten more difficult. But now that there were two objectives I aimed to accomplish, chances were better I’d manage at least one of them. Even if I didn’t locate Albacus, I had faith that Mordecai would eventually find him. And even if I didn’t manage to give our side the advantage in the ongoing war, I was certain no one would be disappointed in me once I came back to life.
