by Anna Elias
As simple as they were, the words toppled Aaron. His knees gave out and he collapsed, doubling over to vomit out the toxic pain of Shellie’s death.
He trembled in Avani’s arms until the sobbing and retching stopped. Then Tal and Link helped him to his feet.
“You have a choice to make,” Sam said, taking Aaron’s hand. “Become a Vessel, like these, and serve spirits who return to this world, or we must erase your memories.”
“What?” Aaron jerked away, his brain scrambling. “But you can’t do that.”
Every eye met his, calm but affirming.
He spun back to Sam. “All of them?”
Sam nodded.
Anger twisted again and set his heart racing. The joys of life were forever connected to its sorrows, and he didn’t want to lose memories of the people who’d made both. “I had another choice,” he growled. “But you and your people took it from me.”
“Your wife died serving others,” Liam said. “You would have died serving yourself.”
“That was my choice.”
“The one you truly wanted?” Liam’s voice held no judgment.
“I tried to make that same choice,” Tal told him. “They stopped me, as well.”
“They don’t have that right.”
“I thought so, too, at first.” Her words reflected confidence, wisdom. “But they saved me from myself.”
Aaron scanned the woman for blank stares, rote responses, blind loyalty, and other signs of coercion or brainwashing, but he saw none. It confused him even more.
“If you had taken your life tonight, Aaron,” Captain Hugh explained, “you would not be with your family. Not yet. You would be among the spirits I serve, the ones coming back to make amends and earn their way to where your wife and child already are. Make this choice. Become a Vessel. Serve others until your time comes to be with them.”
The anger softened. “So—I will see them again?”
“Yes.”
“Are they in heaven?”
Another coyote howled high in the mountains.
“Souls like those of your wife and child become spirits who enter Elysium.” Captain Hugh smiled. “They wait for you there.”
“How long?” Aaron worried his window of time might narrow the longer he lived.
“Human calendars mean nothing on that side,” Liam explained. “A day, a month, a millennium, it’s the same—infinite and infinitesimal, endless and connected.” He stepped closer. “Do you wish to serve, Aaron? Or ...” He rested a hand on Aaron’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
A black void washed over Aaron’s mind, fading his memories into blank walls. When Liam removed his hand, the memories flooded back, complete with all their joys and pains.
“Don’t let that happen to me.” Aaron stumbled back. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
“Go to the Shelter,” Chief Black instructed. “Liam will give you the mark. You will be ready to host next time.”
Aaron nodded and stepped back behind the others. He wiped the sweat from his face and watched Captain Hugh turn toward the lake.
TAL
Tal feared what might emerge as Captain Hugh extended his arms toward the ship. Wind tossed his heavy jacket around his tall black boots, and strands of ebony hair pulled free of their band to sweep across his face. Within seconds, three glimmering veils of mist drifted through the ship’s open hatch like smoky pearls rising from an ancient shell. They looked just like the one that had drifted from Jake when he died.
Tal yelped and grabbed her left ankle. “My tattoo burns.”
“Mine’s glowing,” Avani said through gritted teeth.
“My whole leg tingles,” Link added.
The three mists floated across the plank toward shore. The scent of jasmine trailed them like a delicate perfume. So did a tangible sense of peace.
The burning diminished for all of them, and all three tattoos shimmered in a gemlike blend of purple, blue, and green, the viny, medallion-like symbols most of all. Captain Hugh opened a coat pocket and retrieved three ancient-looking bronze coins. He assigned one to each Vessel. “Keep this with you at all times.”
Tal turned hers over and over, mystified at the airy weight of something that appeared so thick and dense. The piece resembled an archaic relic, or treasure from a sunken ship, and the design was almost identical to the circular mark on their tattoos. The SObY letters were concealed as much in the coin’s metal tendrils as in those of flesh and ink, and the vine-like nest held the same cryptic, totem-like dove at its center. On the coin, however, the bird graced both sides, suspended in motion as if caught inside the lightweight bronze while flying through.
“It allows contact in case something goes wrong. Grip it for ten seconds and the Spirit Guard will find you wherever you are.”
All three looked at Liam.
“What can go wrong?” Avani asked.
“You have seven days,” Captain Hugh continued. “The spirits will take you where they need you to go. They control date, time, place, everything.”
Blaze shuddered and Sam stepped closer to him.
“The coin bonds with your particular mark for as long as you’re a Vessel,” Captain Hugh explained. “You cannot share it with others, and you must never show it to a non-Vessel.”
“What if we lose it?” Avani asked.
“Or someone steals it?” Link studied his coin.
Chief Black crossed his arms. “Allow neither.”
Blaze cleared his throat and spoke for the first time since the ship arrived. “Why, um, why don’t you attach something to them, instead? Like you did with the tattoo?”
Tal touched the chip in her shoulder and shot him a grateful look.
“The coins pass from one Vessel to the next as each retires,” Captain Hugh said.
Tal shifted and looked up “And if a Vessel dies?”
“The coin comes home.”
“Comes home?”
“When it no longer feels the Vessel’s mark.”
Tal frowned.
“It’s not for you to understand, Tallulah,” Chief Black said. “Only to accept.”
“Won’t the Angel Guard prevent us from dying?”
Another owl screeched, closer this time. Tal’s hackles shot up.
“Spirit Guard,” Liam corrected. “And not always. Not if you don’t reach the coin in time.” His words were grim, but his voice carried them like a quiet stream. Must be a Spirit Guard thing to state even the worst outcomes in a peaceful way.
Captain Hugh ended the conversation by shutting his eyes and opening his arms. The three small mists hovered at his chest a long moment before he looked up. “These Spirits seek loved ones in this lifetime. That won’t always be the case.”
“The spirits will come from every era, every nation,” Chief Black told them.
Avani tucked her hair in a band. “How will we know what to do? What to wear? What language to speak?”
“You will know.”
Of course. Tal blew out a quick breath. That seemed to be the answer for everything. She caught Sam’s eye. He appeared to be thinking the same.
Captain Hugh scanned the three Vessels. “Who wishes to go first?”
Tal froze. She wanted to move but her feet wouldn’t let her. She looked at Aaron who was staring at them in the firelight. Though that cosmic lightning bolt blessing earlier with Chief Black and Captain Hugh had built her confidence, and though she no longer felt the same degree of fear emanating from Link, Avani, or herself, she still had reservations.
Avani took a willing step toward Captain Hugh, but Link got there first. Knots eased in Tal’s stomach. Avani let go a grateful sigh.
Captain Hugh stood in front of Link and opened his arms wide.
Chief Black stood to Link’s left and opened his arms, as well. He chanted and the Anaho echoed his words in song and dance. Flames from their bonfire licked higher and faster as if keeping time.
Liam passed Tal to do the same on Link’s right, the t
hree men forming an equally spaced arc around the boy. One misty orb broke away from the others and floated over to hover an equal distance from Link’s back, completing the circle. Wind gusted and the air glowed white and green.
Link’s tattoo burst into rich jewel tone colors that shone from under his pant leg. Energy hummed, the air infused with jasmine and the Spirit’s mist expanded to take Link’s shape. As its head grew to match Link’s, two eyes formed on its face. When those eyes lined up with Link’s, both pairs glowed like emerald jewels until the Spirit disappeared inside Link’s back. The green light faded, the wind subsided, and the Anaho stopped chanting.
All was silent save the churning lake and crackling fire.
No one moved.
Tal forgot to breathe.
“Link?” Sam asked.
Tiny green flecks shimmered inside the boy’s hazel-brown eyes under his blue contacts. He gazed at the faces around him.
“Can you hear me?” Sam’s voice quivered.
Link didn’t blink. He gazed at everyone with new focus, a kind of strange new wisdom. “We’re fine,” said a young girl, her sweet voice blending with his. She turned him to face Avani and Tal. “You’ll see.”
Avani shuddered. Tal stepped back.
Link blinked, and his eyes returned to normal, though subtle green flecks remained. “It’s okay.” The girl’s voice was gone. Link sounded like himself again.
Tal and Avani exchanged a glance.
Liam smiled, unfazed. As if being a Vessel were as normal as breathing.
Tal snorted. To him it probably was. Everything about this crazy spirit stuff was normal to Liam.
“I’m fine. See?” Link walked around, shaking his arms and turning his neck, beaming. “The feeling is incredible. Like being on fire and not getting burned. Or, more like, being the fire.”
Link lifted his pants leg. The tattoo’s vibrant colors had dimmed and become subtle on Link’s skin, but the iridescent symbol still shimmered.
“It will stay this way while the Spirit is with you, and it will help you identify other Vessels in the field.” Captain Hugh’s voice grew stern. “But hide it from everyone else.” He put a hand on Link’s shoulder. “Godspeed.”
The word no sooner left his mouth than light flashed, air gusted, and Link vanished, leaving nothing behind but stirring leaves and silt.
Blaze pushed a few keys on his tracking device and bit his lip. Nothing. He pressed a few more buttons and rechecked the signal. Link’s red dot suddenly appeared on screen. Blaze ran a hand through his cropped hair and grinned. “Got him.”
Tal sighed in relief. This crazy thing actually worked.
She, Sam, Avani and Doc watched as a map filled in under Link’s dot.
Blaze zoomed in. “He’s in Ohio.”
Ohio? Tal’s head spun. Already?
Captain Hugh extended his hand. “Who goes next?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LINK
Link stood outside a car rental company with no idea where he was or what to do next. His body felt like a puzzle that had been blasted apart and instantly reassembled. The Spirit had beamed them from Prism Lake sometime after midnight. Yet here they stood, moments later, in the long rays of afternoon sun under a canopy of thin gray clouds.
Link’s knees trembled. He focused on road signs and business names to ease his queasy stomach.
Cleveland, Ohio. Link had never been here and had no clue how to get around. His phone came with GPS, but he did not know where else he may need to go, what address to enter, or how long it would take to get there. He prayed the Spirit would make sense of it all, and soon, before someone saw through his disguise and recognized him from his continued, albeit less frequent, appearances on headline news.
Distant thunder growled as a nearby stoplight turned green. Rush hour traffic flew past on the rain-slicked road, and Link stepped away from the curb to avoid being splashed.
He checked the slim new leather wallet Sam had given him. It carried one credit card, some cash, a new driver’s license, and his new alias—Fallon Miller. The address on his license matched that of the Tribal Office at Prism Lake, obscure to an outsider but vital to the Vessels.
Something urged him toward the car rental company. The choice was clear and deliberate, though not of his making.
The Spirit.
Sweat moistened his face and palms. He’d not operated so much as a bicycle in more than four years, and he’d been thirteen the last time he’d gripped a car’s steering wheel, when he’d been forced to steal a sports car for his stupid gang initiation.
“Are you sure we need that?” Link asked. “Can’t you, like, wish us there or something?”
You need it this time, the Spirit replied, her voice the soft and airy weight of a thought.
He didn’t ask again but was grateful for the abandoned strip mall next door. After renting the car, Link drove around the potholes and cracks of the large, empty lot and practiced everything he could think of—parking within the faded lines; pulling up alongside the curb without hitting it; weaving in and around the rows and spaces, and speeding up then slamming the brakes to miss a planter of blooming trees. He operated the lights, turn signals, and wipers until doing so required no thought. One hour later, Link deemed himself ready to drive.
He dodged several yawning puddles and rolled over a soggy carpet of fallen blossoms to reach the mall’s main exit. Sun broke through an opening in the clouds and blinded him momentarily. He adjusted the visor and choked the steering wheel with both hands.
“Which way?”
Think your words, the girl replied.
“Sorry,” he said aloud, then closed his mouth. Sorry. Which way?
She warmed.
Link sensed her joy the way an animal senses its owner’s mood, even if from another room. It was creepy but satisfying.
Turn right. We’re not far.
The light changed, and Link sucked in a breath before turning onto the busy street. He pulled alongside other vehicles, sweating to stay between the lines and a safe distance from all the other cars. The Spirit guided Link off the main road and down a series of residential streets to a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood. Though it felt like it took forever, he’d driven less than three miles from the empty lot. A few people jogged by, others pushed strollers down the drying sidewalk, and two more worked in their yards where the last rays of sun sparkled across their wet grass.
Any of these people could recognize him. Link wiped the sweat from his eyes. The Spirit warmed him from inside, an ethereal blanket to calm his nerves, and guided him to park near a buttery yellow, two-story house. He turned off the engine and stepped out, nervous but also anticipating the chance to drive again when the time came to leave.
As Link walked toward the house, the Spirit burned with a keen sense of home, something he recognized but had never known. They passed a huge oak tree anchoring the front yard. It stood thirty feet tall and sprawled with stocky bare branches that were turning green with spring leaves. A weathered yellow ribbon fluttered around the thick trunk, its frayed remains rotting against the bark.
She needs to let go. The Spirit sighed. Her sentiments were not harsh or despairing, but rather loving wishes for her mother’s sadness and suffering to be replaced by joy.
That simple moment, getting to feel this Spirit’s sense of purpose inside her words, focused the Vessels Program into perspective for Link. While he met this Spirit’s physical needs, providing a human body to take her where she needed to go and speak the words she needed to say, her enlightenment gave him power and purpose. Goosebumps rippled up his arm.
Would he ever do as much with his own soul?
The Spirit led him up a few steps to the tidy front porch. Several potted flowers lined the stained wood floor. Others perched atop the wide, white painted rail. A padded swing hung on the far side next to a table and chair.
Who lives here? What do I say?
The Spirit warmed again. You will know.
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Link spied a neighbor two doors down, a woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat and planting flowers in a bed by her front door. He hoped she couldn’t hear them, especially if things went south.
It’s time, the Spirit told him.
She already felt familiar.
Link took a breath and knocked on the front door.
A breeze cooled his skin as footsteps sounded inside. An eye peered out the door’s peephole. “May I help you?” an older woman asked from inside.
Link trembled, with no idea what to say, but the Spirit spoke up. “Rose Williams?” she said, her voice sweet and girlish inside Link’s.
“What do you want?”
The connection these two needed was not going to be achieved through a door. “I have someone here who wants to see you,” Link said, hoping his deeper voice might pique Rose’s interest.
A long pause followed instead. “Who?”
The Spirit gently pressed Link back and spoke again. “It’s Valerie.”
A chain slid back, a lock turned, and the door cracked open wide enough to reveal a well-dressed, angry woman on the other side. “I don’t know who you think you are, young man,” she said, “or what you think you’re doing, but my daughter died ten years ago, and everyone around here knows it. You better leave before I call the police.”
She started to close the door, but the Spirit stuck Link’s foot in the way. The woman frowned. He tried to pull back, but Valerie held fast.
“Your name is Rose Elaine Williams,” she said quickly. “Everyone calls you Roses because of the perfect way you decorate them on cakes.”
The woman scowled. “Everyone knows I decorate cakes. I’ve been decorating cakes in this city for years.” She tried to shut the door again.
“It’s me, Momma. I came back to say I love you and to tell you the truth about the night I died.”
Link’s heart beat like a caged bird.
Rose flushed with fury. “I will give you ten seconds to leave, young man.” She revealed the phone clutched in her other hand. “Or I will call the police, and you can explain this little prank to them.”
