Nauseous with terror, I sank against my friend. All seemed completely lost, and William was hardly the person for comfort. I didn’t even try to seek it, but he tried to offer it anyway, giving me an affectionate joggle by the shoulders.
“Well, look at it this way, darling. It could have been much worse. It’s really no fun to die in your body. Much better to be taken out of it. Then you don’t really have to worry about it deteriorating or feeling pain.” He grinned and tapped my chin with his knuckles. “Besides, it isn’t like you’re stuck with a bunch of strangers. You’re among friends.”
In some way, he was right, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him I preferred to be among living friends. I wanted to spend my time with Hunter, Pam, Shantal, and Eric, but from the start, all I’d done was screw up. Now I was trapped, totally and utterly trapped and much too devastated to cry.
“You realize you’re screwed, right?” I asked. “I’m the chosen one. I am the one who is supposed to free you. If I’m stuck here, then you can’t be freed.”
His lips pressed into grim lines. “I know that. I just didn’t want to point that out. I was trying to stay positive. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out and get you back into your body.”
“I hope so.”
With a cold ache in my bones, I began the slow journey back up to the third floor of the castle, wondering if that was truly how my existence as I knew it would end. It seemed so final. Suddenly, I was overcome with only that desire, to interact with the living people who surrounded us like the ghosts we truly were. As they funneled in from outside, what appeared to us to be the void of space, I felt them walk through me, and I let out a cry of anguish. I imagined spending eternity trapped in that place with the other spirits, the victims I was supposed to rescue, trapped far outside their timeframe, just as I would be someday. Perhaps in a few centuries, another ghost-seeing girl will come along and see me, I thought, and I’ll be just as annoying to her as William has been to me, just because I’ll want to talk to a living, breathing person so very badly.
My pace quickened, and I soon found myself in the living room with Isabella, sobbing into the beautiful fabric of her silk dress. I told her everything. Like the great-great-great-grandmother she was to me, she patiently stroked my hair and tried to give me comfort.
William looked on uncomfortably. “Why must she always cry? Does she never run out of tears?”
Isabella and I both shot him an equally disdainful look.
He lifted his head up in exasperation. “I just don’t remember Isabella crying as much in her time, that’s all.”
Frowning in concern, Isabella stroked my cheek and smoothed my hair, turning my face up toward hers. She lifted her eyebrows. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said, sniffing and wiping under my nose with my wrist. “I’m just so scared, and I have no idea what to do. What is King Geoffrey going to do with my body?”
“Well, in your form, he may appear to be incompatible with the laws of time and space,” said Isabella matter-of-factly, “but that’s roughly how we perceive you when you’re in possession of your body. I would guess that while he can communicate with us in real time, he is likely also limited by some slow-moving time stream.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning,” said William, wiggling his eyebrows, wearing a face so goofy I couldn’t help but offer him some hint of a smile, “that we have all the time in the world to come up with a good solution to all our problems.”
Chapter 15
William couldn’t have been more right. Eternity was given a new meaning by the two weeks I spent in the ghost realm; I wasn’t even sure if it was two weeks, but I’d done my best to keep time by looking at the daily calendar maintained by the principal’s secretary. Every day in the ghost world felt like a week, and that was only exacerbated by the fact that I had no need for sleep. The ghosts spent every hour wide awake, and so did I, clinging to consciousness with no respite to be found.
It wasn’t all dreadful though. If one had to be stuck in a spectral realm, that castle was the perfect place for it. Slowly but surely, I got to know all the spirits, just as I had once known my classmates. Most were friendly and even excited to meet me. On my first day, William took me around to introduce me, and everyone was supportive. They all approached the issue delicately, and most were afraid to bring it up, for fear of offending me or simply reminding me of my condition, which they all knew could turn out to be permanent. The general consensus was that King Geoffrey was a bore and a pig, and while they were all delighted to no longer see him, they were also very sorry for my loss.
I was frustrated by their complacency though. It was as if everyone just expected me to lie down and take it. For a moment, I began to believe that I might just do that, but then I saw Pam chatting happily with my body in the common room, and the sight seared me.
Back upstairs, I joined Isabella in her library and watched her scan through one page of one book at a time. I wondered how many books she’d read over the centuries, how many volumes she’d reread a thousand times in a desperate effort to free herself and her people. Beside her, reading over her shoulder, I felt helpless; she had been there all that time, and I had little hope of finding anything she hadn’t already tried. Still, I had to assume two heads were better than one, so I had to try to join her in her research. For hours, we sat in silence, neither saying a word.
Only after some indeterminable amount of time did I realize what a rare opportunity it was. I had all that time to learn something, and there was a language I wanted to get a handle on. With a gasp, I sat up and touched Isabella’s arm.
She glanced at me, and her eyebrows lifted patiently.
“Do you know the ghost language, the one the red book was written in?”
With a faint, slightly unsure smile, she nodded.
I clutched her tighter. “Will you teach me?”
“I’d love to, Zoey.
Mr. Geo was a great teacher, but he could only teach from the perspective of a living human. His expertise lay in teaching history, and he’d spent years studying dead language and esoteric rituals. While that was all good, there was no substitute for actual experience; it was similar to the difference between a Spanish teacher from Wisconsin and a Spanish teacher from Spain. Isabella was the real thing, and I was thrilled to have her by my side.
I found myself catching on quickly, even though she had to constantly clarify my misunderstandings, of which there were many.
From time to time, William snorted and looked up. “My sister was many things, Zoey, but she was most certainly not that.”
Isabella and I laughed, and she corrected me quite gently.
In time, against all reason and certainly against logic, I began to feel safe and comfortable there. I wondered if that was why there were so many ghosts. Perhaps these souls just longed for company and found the confinement in the castle to be preferable to eternal nonexistence. Still, it was so much more painful in the long run for them to be stuck. I could see it in their eyes, every time one of them glanced out the windows into the vast, open nothingness in which we were suspended.
On Monday, classes began for the week. According to William, because I had touched the sapphire when I was human, it gave me the ability to visit my world as often as he did and stay for as long as I wanted, just like he could. He never touched the sapphire when he was human, but Miss Shila had said some spell to help him stay over here longer. One thing I couldn’t do that William could was to talk to those with psychic abilities, so I couldn’t speak to Hunter, Shantal, Pam, Eric, or anyone else. William assured me that I’d be able to do it with some training, but it would take about a month, and I simply didn’t have that long!
I went to Hunter’s room and heard him talking to Eric.
“What makes you think Zoey hates you?” Eric asked.
“For starters, she won’t return any of my texts.”
“Because the king doesn’t know how to
text!” I screamed as loud as I could. “It’s not me!”
Hunter shifted his stance. “She’s been so mean lately, just plain rude. Plus, she flat out told me she wants nothing to do with me.”
“Dude, she told you that?”
“Yes, and then she just glared at me like I’m dog crap on Satan’s shoe, like she hates me more than anything in the world. I don’t know what happened. I haven’t done anything to her, haven’t even looked at another girl or anything. Maybe she’s still mad about my ex, but I thought we figured that all out.”
“I’m sorry, but she’s actually been a real bi—“
“Hey!”
“Uh…quite a jerk to all of us lately. I guess she’s just stressed out. I’m sure she doesn’t mean it, man.”
“So you think I should just give her a little space?”
“Yeah. That’s what Pam and I are doing.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
Eric looked down at his watch. “Listen, I’ve gotta run.”
“All right, man. We’ll talk later.”
“Later.”
After Eric left, I reached over to touch Hunter’s face as he stared outside his window. “I’m right here,” I said. “I wish I could talk to you and let you know.” He look so sad, so hurt, and my heart ached, down to my very core. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but it’s not me. I’d never treat you this way, not in a million years.” I noticed a bracelet on his desk, one that must’ve dropped off my arm. I concentrated and willed the bracelet to fly off the desk.
“Get out of here!” he shouted. “Get out before I get a priest to banish you to Hell!”
“But it’s me,” I whispered as a tear slipped down my face. I touched his cheek again. “Please don’t tell me to leave.”
“Get out!” he shouted.
I wiped the tear away. I knew he didn’t mean it, but my heart sank just the same. “I love you,” I said, “always and forever.” I softly kissed his lips, even though I knew he wouldn’t feel a thing.
“I still feel your presence,” he said. “I do have psychic abilities. It’s the reason I was chosen for this school.”
I started to back up.
“Yeah, that’s right. Get out…and don’t come back!”
I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart, but having no other option, I turned and left.
Chapter 16
I went about my business in the castle, occasionally popping into my classes to see my body sitting there with her eyes distant, her fingers repeatedly toying with the necklace. I wanted to scream, to explode, to knock the blackboards from the wall and flip the desks over, but I knew it would do me no good. There wasn’t enough anger in me for that degree of poltergeist activity, and even if there had been, I wasn’t sure I could lower myself to terrifying so many people just to let off a little steam.
It made far more sense to focus my attention on one or two individuals to try and get a message across. The first and most important, was Mr. Geo, who would expect to see me for my independent study, like usual. I hovered nervously around the shadows in his office, glancing at all the books on the shelves and feeling with new, more potent energy the power of the objects he kept upon his desk, from a simple deck of tarot cards to a strangely painted raven’s skull that seemed to be imbued with a brand of magic that reminded me of the pendant, for some reason. As I was pondering that, the door opened. On reflex, I hid behind one of the bookshelves, only to laugh at myself, watching as Mr. Geo made his way into the room, followed by the smooth motions of my imposter.
“Anyway, I’ve been thinking about it, and it might not be such a bad idea if I’m the one to keep the sapphire after all,” she said. Then her eyes narrowed and focused on me, cutting through dimensions, space, and time to catch a glimpse of me.
Mr. Geo, not as sensitive, paid the glance no mind. “I’m not sure that’s wise, Zoey,” he stuttered. “I-I thought we agreed that—”
“It’s the safest option,” she interrupted, barely hiding the disdain in her voice and her nasty stare. “What happens if an urgent situation comes up, one that demands it?”
“I’m not sure what good it will do you.”
“I’m not sure what good it won’t do me,” the spirit said, rather tersely.
Although Mr. Geo continued toward his desk, I couldn’t help but notice the stutter in his gait, just a hint of a changing route, as if he paused when he reached his destination. Indeed, after a moment during which I exchanged an intense, dark stare with my possessed form, Mr. Geo asked, “Are you feeling all right, Zoey? You don’t seem much like yourself today.”
“I’m fine, Mr. Geo,” the false me replied through clenched teeth, as if trying to muster a smile. “I’m just not feeling very safe anymore, and think I’d feel much, much safer if I had that sapphire in my possession.”
Mr. Geo was now reaching for his keys, and I found myself with no time to waste. As he flipped through the keyring, I placed all my concentration on it, on him, and on the teardrop hanging around my neck. I found that even though it, too, was relegated to the spirit realm, its power had not deadened; it was only operating under a different skill set. As if I were that very poltergeist I’d been so hesitant to imagine myself as earlier that day, I slapped the keys from his hands and watched them skitter across the office floor. I watched as his form froze in evident surprise. After a snarl of irritation, my body darted after them. I plucked them up and began to carry them to Mr. Geo.
I couldn’t stand to see my body being used like a marionette, with King Geoffrey as the puppet master. I couldn’t bear watching him interact with my poor misguided, clueless teacher, taking advantage of Mr. Geo’s good nature. I could not just stand idly by while the body snatcher took advantage of me when all I’d ever wanted to do was help the unfortunate souls he’d trapped. Rage began to boil inside me, and as it did, I was emboldened by a new strength. One by one, I snatched the objects from Mr. Geo’s desk and began hurling them at my false image. She danced and yelped and leapt like a lunatic, narrowly avoiding the projectiles as they bounced around from every angle. Even when the keys dropped from her hands, I didn’t stop. I was so angry that I couldn’t. I didn’t care if I gave my own Geoffrey-inhabited body a concussion or knocked out one of her teeth; it would be a very small price to pay to see him suffer, enjoying a body only long enough to feel the pain of it.
During the onslaught, Mr. Geo’s head whipped back and forth between the desk and what he perceived to be me. He shouted at last, “Just get out of here, Zoey! Something is wrong. I’ll figure it out. Just go!”
With an irritated flash shooting through her eyes, the possessed body sneered and darted into the hall. The instant she was gone, Mr. Geo slammed the door, prepared to face whatever odious entity was there to torment him and his student.
Finally, I stopped the ambush and let my hands fall limply to my sides.
He stood in the center of the office totally baffled, glancing all around and shaking his head. He bent to pick up the misplaced objects, investigating each for damage before carefully setting it back in its rightful place upon his desk or shelf.
As my anger faded, I began to feel guilty for almost breaking his nice things, but knickknacks were not nearly as important as finding a way to get his attention. I had to gain his trust, even if I was stuck in the spirit realm.
When Mr. Geo sat at his desk, I noticed something interesting: The flowers in the vase on his desk were wilted. I’d seen them before, even back when they were fresh from the ground, but neither he nor I seemed to have noticed their slow death, as we’d been otherwise occupied for quite some time. I had heard of ghosts giving life, but I wasn’t sure I could manage it; in many ways, I was still in denial about my condition, and exercising my ghostly powers would only illuminate the fact that I was merely a spirit of my former self. Even so, I was drawn to touch them. As I ran my wispy fingers over them, I felt the death in them, felt the ache in their drying stems, and I found myself feeling bad for flowers
. I wished I could give them just a little more life, a little more beauty, and as my wishing intensified, they began to regain their color and bloom.
Mr. Geo didn’t seem to notice the floral resurrection at first, not for the first five or six seconds, but when he caught a flash of yellow from the corner of his eye, his head jolted up.
The energy sizzled from the tips of my fingers, perhaps pouring from the volcano of anger that had erupted inside me in the presence of my stolen body. Somehow, I was able to redirect that powerful wrath to something positive.
As the buds burst into life again, my teacher looked around, almost directly at me, though he struggled to focus on what he could not see. “Who’s there?”
His question sounded distant, and I had no audible way to answer him. I could not influence his writing, and I didn’t have the strength to push a pen around to write him a message myself, since all my power had drained into the bouquet rescue. So, feeling quite wilted myself, I patted my teacher’s cheek and left his office.
Not very long after my departure from his office, I thought of my friends. I missed them so much, and I was very concerned about Pam—not only for her wellbeing but also for the sake of our friendship. I watched over her as closely as I could, especially during those first few days. On many occasions, the faux Zoey pushed her around, callously—and I was sure quite intentionally—hurting her feelings with flippancy or simply being downright sadistic. It made me sick to hear King Geoffrey infecting my voice, using my timbre to insult my best friend’s wardrobe or her intelligence. Pam was a wonderful person, someone who cared a great deal about me and had stuck with me through thick and thin, and it severely hurt me to see her suffer. It hurt even more that she believed I was the one being cruel to her, when really all I wanted to do was sit together in the common room and giggle at a movie.
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