“What? Mom always read me Goodnight Moon,” Jem protested.
“Well weren’t you the lucky one?” I shot back. Of course, Jem got the normal childhood. I was the weird one. “So what makes the heart so important?” I asked, turning back to Harry.
“Symbolically, the heart is the source of human conflict,” he answered. “A true exorcism ain’t like the movies. The demon won’t leave just because a religious figure commands it to do so. It needs to be lured out of the body and into a vessel. With common possessions, we can do this with a non-living relic that has been energized by the power of the Holy Spirit. A seeder demon, the likes of which you described, ain’t gonna be fooled by any old relic. It feeds on conflict and conflict is a human creation.”
“What if we get it to possess one of us instead?” Jem asked. I gave him an odd look. That was kind of a morbid thought, even for Jem.
“Are you volunteering to have your heart thrown into the holy flame for the good of man?” Harry asked him. “I thought ol’ Seth here was the martyr.”
“Sorry, I’ve already had my heart eaten by a fledgling succubus once. I’m afraid that’s an experience I don’t want to relive,” Seth said flippantly, but paled when he saw the look of alarm on Desmond’s face. “Relax,” he said to the Warrior. “I’m trying to have a sense of humor about it. Look, no one is going to give up their heart or their life for that matter. We don’t even know who the host is.”
“About that,” Desmond said to Harry, but kept a wary eye on Seth. “Do you have any thoughts on how we might proceed in looking for the host?”
“I’m afraid not,” Harry said with a sigh. “A seeder can’t sustain a host in a balanced state for very long. I suppose this wraith might have a little more time as it has to jump to claim another soul, but of that, I ain’t certain. Although…” He trailed off in thought. After a moment, he lumbered back toward the doors. “Come out to the tool shed. I got something that might could help.”
We followed the caretaker around to the back of the church, past the rectory, and into a small plastic shed that smelled of fertilizer and motor oil. Harry reached for a small, ornately carved wooden chest that looked out of place next to the hedge trimmers, chicken wire, and other gardening tools. He pulled out a small velvet bag. From that, he extracted four golden leaves, which he handed to each of us. Desmond seemed pleased by this, but Seth was just as confused as Jem and I were.
“Golden shade,” he said as if that explained everything. When it was clear it didn’t, he continued. “Wear it somewhere visible. If a Discordant is masking its presence, the leaves turn purple.”
“Cool,” Jem whispered. I had to admit, it was kind of cool. Now I had another tool I could use to find the wraith before anyone else did.
Seth thanked Harry and led us back around to the front of the church. As we were saying goodbye, I looked around and then up at Seth.
“My purse. I must have left it inside. Be right back,” I said and dashed into the building.
Sitting in the last pew, next to the basin of holy water, was my purse, where I had deliberately left it earlier. I slipped it around my neck and fished around until I came up with the small plastic water bottle I had drained earlier, silently thanking Seth for making me keep it to recycle later instead of tossing it in the sidewalk trash bin. I dunked it in the basin, filling it with as much of the holy water as I could get. Wiping the sides down with a tissue, I stuffed it in my purse and rejoined the others for the eighty-mile hike back home.
Once we finally got back, I claimed that all of the walking exhausted me and went up to my room. It wasn’t even a lie. Coming down wasn’t as difficult as going up the hill, but it still winded me and I was disgustingly sweaty. But instead of lying down, I ducked through my small closet and up the stairs into the attic. I took the bottle of holy water out of my bag and set it gingerly on the old workbench, careful not to let it touch the other items I had collected. Satisfied that I had everything I needed, I dug out my phone and pulled up the page I had bookmarked earlier. Checking to make sure no one was going to come looking for me, I got to work. It was time to try my hand at another skill that was supposedly out of my league as a Guardian.
* * *
As was now our routine, Jem and I went over to Louie’s Diner around ten. Since Desmond still wouldn’t let us hang out in the bar, Seth thought it would be a good idea to have us stationed close by and Louie’s was a safe place that didn’t mind our loitering. If he encountered a lost soul, Seth would hit them with enough influence to send them our way. So far, it wasn’t too bad and nothing at all like the insanity at school. This one night there were three lost souls, but usually we got one or even none. Jem used the time to catch up on homework (that I would copy) and I continued my research on the Discordant.
“Can we get fat?” I asked, staring down at my plate of gravy soaked and cheese covered French fries.
Jem looked up from his notebook with a puzzled expression. “Why would you want to get fat?”
“I didn’t ask permission, idiot. I was wondering if it is possible for us to get fat,” I clarified for the sake of my dense brother. Honestly, I had no idea how he got good grades when he was incapable of the most basic comprehension skills. “We can’t die and our physical age is fluid or something, so what does that mean for our health?”
“I don’t know,” Jem said with a frown. “I guess it’s possible, but you’ve never been fat, so why do you care?”
“Because, Jem, we eat like shit,” I said, gesturing to the table full of greasy and starchy foods. “How many calories do you think this is?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask them,” Jem said and waved to the front of the diner where Seth and Desmond had just walked in, followed by one of the hippies. It was Donna. I tried to be nice to her because if she hadn’t taken over, Seth would never have finished my bathroom, but she was still a new age hippie weirdo and honestly, she could be kind of gross sometimes.
“Ask us what?” Seth said as he came over to our table.
“Will we get fat from eating this crap?” I asked.
“Likely,” he said, but held up his hand when he saw my horrified expression. “I mean, it’s more complicated than that. Your weight is like your age, it will change naturally to suit your environment. Your metabolism won’t change drastically, but you might consider a salad now and then or just some routine exercise.”
“Or maybe we could all take some cooking classes,” Jem added, but immediately started blushing. “I mean… not that…”
“I can teach you,” Donna said, sitting down and helping herself to one of my fries, which earned her a death glare.
“Really?” Jem’s eyes lit up almost as bright as his cheeks. He had a major boner for the witches, especially Donna.
“What is this?” Desmond asked, picking up the list I had been making before their arrival.
“A list of common artifacts that are both readily available and effective against demons.”
His eyes narrowed at me. “And why would you be making a list like this?”
I rolled my eyes back at him. “It’s for you, not me, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.” It was now my turn to be on the receiving end of the death glare. “Look, by the end of next week, I’ll have racked up enough detentions that you’ll have to come down to meet with Mr. Marsden. When you do, bring one of these and un-possess the guy.”
“So Gary Indiana went and got himself possessed?” Donna asked, rolling her eyes. “Not surprising. That guy was a piece of work. I’m surprised the school still puts up with his nonsense.”
“Gary Indiana?” Jem asked. “Our counselor is Gary Marsden.”
“We called him that because he thought he was Indiana Jones, but he was really a hot mess,” she explained. “He was obsessed with archeology, but clearly knew nothing about it. He used to have all of these rocks in his office that he’d found on his ‘exploratory missions’ that he claimed were fossils or ancient relics. Non
e of us had the heart to tell him that even as high schoolers, we knew they were just rocks. That’s probably why he went missing. He probably found an old milk bottle that he mistook for the Holy Grail and hit his head.”
“Or he happened to stumble across a real relic,” Desmond said with a frown.
“In Oklahoma?” Donna asked flatly. I had to agree with the hippie. Our father had been an amateur archeologist and he went to places like Greece and Turkey to find important relics. “Nah, it’s more likely something local got him.”
“It’s quite possible,” Desmond said. “There are mountains in Oklahoma.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. There were mountains everywhere.
“Mountainous areas tend to be less populated and have been a big draw for mystic communities throughout history. Mountains are also mined frequently for minerals and mining has been known to cause some of the biggest breaches into the realm of Chaos. It’s possible that Gary Marsden either stumbled into the remnants of a mystic community or had an unfortunate run in with a Discordant led cult. However, the latter would not be likely to return him alive.”
“Unless…” Seth began, but cut off with a shudder. When all eyes turned to him, he went red. “It’s, um… it’s possible that his soul was destroyed. He could be a servant of Chaos,” he said quietly.
“How is that even possible?” Jem asked.
“It’s possible,” Desmond said, but he was looking at Seth with a strange, almost scared expression that piqued my curiosity. “But I don’t think that is the case here. I’m not even sure if the soulless can enter the realm of Order.”
“Who cares where he was possessed or why?” I asked, breaking up the meeting of the cryptic eye-contact club. “What can it hurt to try? You have the golden shade and you can easily get any of these,” I added, indicating the list.
“Fair enough,” Desmond sighed, but added sternly, “But once this is over, I don’t want to receive any more phone calls from the office. I don’t get enough sleep as it is.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I said, smiling tightly. Desmond returned my smile with one that might have been tighter.
“That, my dear, is what I am afraid of.”
Chapter 6
Spiritual Squatter
When the phone call came, I wasn’t surprised. Even before Nai had informed me of her intentions, I knew it was only a matter of time before the school would want to address her behavioral issues. It was, of course, a means to an end. By meeting with the guidance counselor, I would now be able to put to rest the teens’ speculations, so that we may all move on to the real reason any of us were here. If anything, I should have been relieved that she chose this route instead of taking matters into her own hands as I had worried she would. Despite knowing that Nai was not entirely to blame for who she was, I found her unconventional methods to be nerve wracking at best.
“Desmond, are you allowed to kill someone who isn’t a Discordant?” she had asked me early last evening as she sat in the living room, pretending to study, but failing to realize that I could see what she was actually working on.
“Of course not, Nai. Why would you ask me this?”
“Just thinking out loud here, but if you killed Mr. Marsden, you would destroy the demon possessing him and save a whole bunch of souls who are otherwise going to be lost to the Discordant.”
She had suggested this casually, as if she had suggested pizza for dinner. Were that the most disturbing thing I had heard out of this child, it would have been bad enough, but this was an everyday occurrence. I’d worked with a split-soul Guardian pair in the past, but that was very different. For one thing, Elle and Mel were adults and well out of their surly years when they became Guardians, and for another, they had been Guardians for several decades before I met them, so their souls were beginning to balance. Nothing about that situation had been able to prepare me for working with these two. Jem was annoying, but so was Bogie. Annoying I could handle. Nai, on the other hand, was just a bit too eager to prove she was not only the embodiment of evil, but better suited to do my job than I was. That too was annoying, but also dangerous.
“Taking a life without a damned good reason is grounds for a trial at least, but more often, results in immediate retirement of the soul,” I informed her with a shudder of revulsion.
“But what if-”
“What if nothing, Nai,” I cut her off before she could start an argument that I did not want to engage in. “I made a mistake, long ago when I was a new agent and I refuse to make another. Especially when the justification is purely laziness. We have not even begun to exhaust all resources available to us. You would do well to remember this.” I did not have to rehash my own mistakes because she had already once, without my consent, looked far enough into my past to have seen for herself. However, whether my words or prior actions had any impact or not was unclear.
Admittedly, Gary Marsden was not an easy man to track down. His last known address, the one that was still listed with his employment records, turned up what appeared to be an abandoned bungalow on the south side of town. Neither his sister nor his mother, who both lived in town, had seen him since the day after the police released him into their care. He had not returned to the Five Penny since the last time Seth had seen him weeks before. Even stranger, there were no eyewitness accounts of him ever coming or going from the school. This disciplinary meeting, it seemed, was the only way I was going to be able to meet the elusive counselor.
As I entered the school, it did become apparent that the Guardians had not exaggerated the extent to which the student body was lost. The oppressive emotional turmoil was strong enough that even I could pick up on it. Had Seth been there in my stead, I doubt he would have been able to walk through the doors without suffering a crippling headache. But that was not my concern. I assumed that I would sense the presence of a Discordant. What I wasn’t prepared for was the presence of several creatures, mostly vampires, but at least one pixie in the mix.
Discordant were traditionally not active during daylight hours, but I’d suspected that if the situation was as bad as the teens had said, that eventually they would come. After all, the draw of so many lost souls in one convenient location was certainly enough to change their predatory patterns. However, I had given them explicit instructions to contact me as soon as they discovered that anything was amiss. That no one had mentioned the Discordant’s presence to me was alarming. Both were well versed enough to recognize Discordant and Nai spent enough time studying their habits that neither had any excuse for not telling me. I would address this oversight as soon as I could, but first, I had an appointment to keep.
Like the last time I had been in the administration office, there had been an overall sense of foreboding. The woman behind the counter did not seem to notice, but whether or not she was a lost soul, I did not know. Her air of distraction as she led me back to the guidance office raised no suspicions. She seemed unaware of the dark energy that became overpowering as she opened the door.
“Go right on in,” she said with a pleasant smile.
As I entered the office, I immediately understood what it was that puzzled the Guardians. Mr. Marsden stood and gave me a practiced smile.
“Mr. Hawthorne, thank you for taking time out of your day to meet with me.” I took the hand he offered. It was cold and clammy, as was the general aura that surrounded the man. This was not a lost soul, of that I was sure.
“Likewise,” I said, projecting the impression of a concerned parent. “As I understand it, Nai has been giving you difficulty?”
“Have a seat, Mr. Hawthorne.”
“Please, call me Desmond,” I said, sinking into the chair in front of the desk. At the utterance of my name, a small spike in the room’s energy flared around me, confirming my suspicion. Hawthorne was a name I had chosen. It was meaningless. Desmond was the name given to me in my last life cycle. Much like fairy legends, there is a significant amount of power in our names. By sp
eaking mine aloud, I revealed myself as an agent for Order and the spike in energy indicated that there was indeed a demonic presence in the room and it recognized my designation.
“Mr. Hawthorne, I’m afraid this is not a social call and as such, I will address you as I feel appropriate. As you know, Nai’s behavior is appalling. I dare say, in most cases of disobedience of this level, the problem usually stems from issues at home.”
No, Gary Marsden was no lost soul. He was a damaged puppet, spouting words meant to bait me into self-doubt. He was acting as the mouthpiece for the demon inside, completely unaware that said demon held no power over me.
“You’re absolutely correct,” I said with a smile that would not be appropriate if this situation wasn’t a complete farce. “I’m afraid that I’ve exhausted all of the disciplinary resources at my disposal. What do you suggest that I try?”
While the puppet prattled on, I took a look around the office, noting the ‘artifacts’ that Donna had mentioned. Every available space on the bookshelf behind the desk was covered with common rocks, shards of glass, and even one intact 7-UP bottle that appeared to be from the ancient era known as the nineteen seventies. Unfortunately, what was missing was any real and meaningful relic that would give me a clue as to what allowed him to be possessed. Though when he pushed his hair from his forehead, I spied a fading pink scar at his hairline that gave me pause. I’d seen similar injuries in the past. Perhaps his memory loss had not been supernatural in origin.
I’d come prepared for an exorcism, but I was hesitant. I turned the small piece of wood over in my right hand. Anything lower than a wraith would normally be drawn to the artifact as soon as I released the cloak. However, I had a very bad feeling that this was not normal circumstances. Hoping I was wrong, I whispered the incantation and removed the cloak.
Splitsville (Rise of the Discordant Book 2) Page 9
