“We didn’t…” I stop and hold up my hands. “Back up. I just thought of something. I saw Tiffany in school just hours ago, at the spring dance committee meeting and in English this morning. I saw her in school a bunch of times last week too. Why didn’t I pick up that she was possessed?”
“I believe she was possessed very recently. Perhaps as recently as this morning. Did she act any differently when you saw her at school today?”
I scrunch up my nose trying to remember. “Yes, actually. Not in English, but at the spring dance committee meeting… she was nice to me, and she’s usually kind of mean. But ‘nice’ isn’t very demonic is it?”
“Actually it can be. Any change in behavior can be an indicator.”
“Huh. Really?”
I try to take this all in. Demon possessions are on the rise here in Ridgemont and around the world. Tiffany was possessed by a demon.
If she was possessed, and I totally missed the signs, then who else might be possessed? Other kids at my school… teachers… neighbors… random people I pass on the street? Is anyone I know acting differently, not themselves? When Mom was possessed, it took me a while to figure out she wasn’t just stressed or sick or having a nervous breakdown. Of course that was back when I was just beginning to learn about the paranormal world.
I’m supposed to be good at this stuff now after all my training in Mexico.
Am I losing my touch? Or are the demons becoming more clever and cunning? They’re dangerous, deadly creatures, especially when they’re in the guise of humans and can move freely through the community, wreaking havoc and destruction.
“Back to your question of why,” Aidan goes on. “I had no intention of keeping Tiffany captive any longer than I had to. I planned to exorcise the demon as soon as I extracted some useful information out of it. But it turned out the demon knew much more than I had anticipated. In fact, it was about to tell me when the pentagram spell was going to be completed. An actual date.”
I gulp. “T-there’s an actual date when the spell’s going to be completed?”
“It seems so.”
“Does that mean…” Suddenly I feel cold. Not dark-spirits-cold but I-want-to-crawl-under-the-covers-and-never-get-up cold. I slink down in the passenger seat, trembling, and wrap my arms around myself. “Does that mean Dubu knows when I… when he’s going to try again to kill me?”
If Aidan were any other dad, this would be the time for him to reassure me, tell me everything was going to be all right: No, honeybunch, don’t you worry. I promise to keep you safe! I have no idea where I got the “honeybunch”—I think heard a TV dad calling his TV daughter that particular term of endearment. But it’s Aidan, so no “honeybunch.” He just sits there for a long, tense moment gazing out the window, then he steeples his hands under his chin.
“We don’t know what Dubu intends. That is what I am trying to find out so I can stop him. This is why I had to conduct the interrogation on your friend.”
“She’s not my friend” is all I can manage to say.
And then I remember the photographs. The reason Nolan, Lucio, and I wanted to speak to Aidan to begin with. The manila envelope is on the floor of the car next to my backpack. I pick it up and pull them out.
“These,” I say coldly.
He takes the photographs from me, and as soon as he sees the first one he sets them all down without looking at them.
“Where on Earth did you get these?”
“Lucio found them by accident when he went to Llevar la Luz to pick up your folders.”
“Lucio had no right to—”
“This isn’t about Lucio. Aidan, tell me the truth. Are these the other four luiseach who died four years apart? In Japan and Australia and those other places?”
He hesitates only for a second. “Yes.”
So Nolan was right.
“Why do you have these?” I press on.
“I wanted to learn more about the girls’ deaths. There were no autopsy records, no records whatsoever. So I have been doing some investigating, running tests.”
Tests?
Alarm bells go off in my head. Tests are why I was born the way I was, why I triggered a massive energy wave that may or may not have doomed our race. “What kind of tests?”
“Chemical analyses of the exhumed remains of the victims. My notes were in the folders I asked Lucio to retrieve. I need to determine the cause of death in each case.”
“Why?”
“So I can prevent it from happening to you.”
When he says this I feel something give way inside. Aidan wants to protect me. He cares about me.
Or does he? Maybe he just wants to keep Dubu from killing me so the spell won’t be unleashed. The greater good.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”
“I’m telling you now. There’s a reason all four victims are as young as they are. They are—were—sixteen years of age at the time of death. Markons can kill luiseach, as I mentioned, but it’s very difficult for them to do so. I believe these particular girls were targeted because luiseach are most vulnerable during the first year after they come into their powers.”
“Luiseach are most vulnerable… what?” I practically shout.
“It’s more than that,” Aidan continues, ignoring my outburst. “I believe Dubu is working off an ancient demonic text called the Book of Prophecy. I’ve never come across it, although your mother—your birth mother, Helena—saw it briefly on one occasion. So we are certain of its existence, even though we don’t know its exact contents, or at least not all its contents in their entirety. There have been stories and speculations.”
I shake my head, trying to sort through this flood of new and awful information, trying not to have a complete psychotic, freak-out meltdown. I’m still trying to process the part about luiseach being most vulnerable between their sixteenth and seventeenth birthdays.
I do the math. Today is April 10. My birthday is August 14.
Which means I won’t be turning seventeen for another four months and four days.
Which means there is a four-month, four-day window during which I’m a sitting duck, a bull’s-eye target. Markon fodder.
“My current working theory is that your birth may have been foretold in the Book of Prophecy—and with your birth, an instruction for the forces of darkness to unleash a spell. The pentagram spell.” Aidan sounds like he’s describing an academic article he’s writing versus, say, my life. My life that is now on a clock—actually, ticking time bomb may be a better metaphor. “According to my hypothesis, the pentagram spell calls for the death of five luiseach girls four years apart, starting in the year of your birth and during their most vulnerable year—their sixteenth year. Furthermore, these deaths are to fall on very specific coordinates around the world that make up a kind of pentagram. You see, the pentagram is very significant in demonic lore… very powerful…”
“Yes, demon lore. Yes, very powerful. But again, why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you tell me all this before?”
“Because I didn’t want to frighten you, make you lose your focus.”
“Seriously? Maybe you haven’t noticed, but my focus is pretty darned sharp these days. Better than yours,” I add pointedly. “Or have you already forgotten? About a certain luiseach who exorcised a smoke demon even though you tried like heck to stop her?”
Aidan raises his eyebrows in surprise, and then he does something completely un-Aidan-like.
He laughs. I laugh too, although I start crying at the same time.
And then he does something even more un-Aidan-like.
He hugs me.
The Day of Reckoning
He almost learned of our plans from Diadrl.
Fortunately the girl gave in to her empathy and chose to destroy him in order to save the human named Tiffany.
Diadrl will be missed—he was one of my most devoted servants—but his loss is for the best, considering.
/> I have been doing exactly as the Book instructed: growing the darkness, ordering more and more servants to take over human bodies. Especially now that the Day of Reckoning is near.
But the Book did not anticipate the consequence: our servants, in the wrong hands, can be detrimental to our cause. They can be captured and interrogated, forced to give away valuable secrets.
And so I must be more careful—especially when it comes to the girl. My intention was to surround her with my servants, keep her close, keep her distracted. Perhaps also learn their valuable secrets.
However, I see now this approach comes with risk. Even if Aidan hadn’t detected Diadrl’s presence in the human named Tiffany, the girl would have figured it out soon enough. Her powers are growing daily, dramatically, whether she knows it or not.
Fortunately her powers are not enough—will never be enough—to detect the presence of my most valuable servant.
Also, there is one more human in her circle I intend to claim. I will simply have to take care not to disseminate crucial details to the servant I choose to do the deed.
Just for a short while longer now.
The Day of Reckoning is almost at hand.
The 119th Blood Moon of the Tertiary Cycle of the Second Millennium of the Reign of Dubu.
Or, as they say in the language of the lesser beings: April 15.
CHAPTER 33
Plan B
Another bad night of sleep. This is going to have to stop or pretty soon I’ll turn nocturnal. Mom used to tease me about that when I was little: “Sunshine, you’re going to turn nocturnal!” She told me that when I was a toddler I would wake up at 2 A.M. full of energy, pulling toys off the shelf, ready and revving to start my day. Between my nocturnalness and her insane hospital hours, the two of us were usually out of sync with the rest of the world and sometimes even with each other. She once joked she should have named me Starshine, not Sunshine.
I glance at my alarm clock: It’s 5:10 A.M. Aidan has canceled our training for the third day in a row—he had another interrogation to perform—so I could snooze a bit if I wanted… if I could. But there’s zero chance I’ll be able to go back to sleep at this point. Ashley is conked out on her air mattress, snoring and sleep-talking, and I know Mom is at the hospital covering a colleague’s shift. I pull on my robe over my Powerpuff Girls nightgown, grab my phone, and tiptoe out of the room, stepping over small, rumply piles of Ashley’s outfits. Oscar and Lex Luthor follow, no doubt hoping for an extra-extra-early breakfast.
Downstairs it’s eerily quiet. I snap on the kitchen light, feed the animals, and make myself an English muffin and a pot of strong coffee. I place my phone on the counter and set it to silent so it doesn’t wake up Ashley.
After Oscar’s done eating I open the back door and let him out to do his business. I pour myself some coffee into an I Heart My Heart Health mug (our house is full of free stuff Mom brings home from the hospital) and follow him into the backyard. The predawn sky is still inky black, although streaks of light are starting to appear on the horizon. The grass is dewy beneath my feet. The first birds of morning chirp invisibly in the trees.
I take a sip of coffee and breathe in the cool green morning air. Being out here like this, time feels infinite somehow. Suspended. Which is just fine with me because I’m not ready to face whatever the day holds. Aidan dumped a lot of heavy stuff on me last night. Like demon possessions are escalating all over the world. Like I’m definitely Dubu’s target because I’m a luiseach girl, I’m sixteen, and I live in Ridgemont, the fifth point of the pentagram. Like there’s an actual date when I’m supposed to die and unleash the spell. Like, like, like…
And there’s all the stuff I learned from Helena and Zalea too.
Maybe I should run away to Llevar la Luz, lock myself in, and not come out until after my seventeenth birthday? Or ever? Maybe the world will be a safer place that way?
I shake my head and stare out at the sky. There’s one last leftover star from the night, twinkling in the east, oblivious to the fact that its shift is done, that it’s time for the sun to take over. Last year I would have tried to run away from all this. From Dubu. From the spell. From demons and dark spirits. From Aidan. From Helena and her council. From my obligations as a luiseach.
But I guess that’s not me anymore. At some point between then and now—closer to now—I stopped wanting to hide from my problems, from the world’s problems. I need to confront this. I need to be all in.
I need to be the luiseach I was meant to be.
The question is: How?
Crunch. The dew beneath my feet has morphed into ice.
Puzzled, I take a step. Crunch, crunch. Come to think of it, the air has grown colder too.
I set my cup down on the ground and glance around warily—could it be demons?
No, not demons.
There are twelve light spirits wafting toward me through the pine trees, white and shimmering. A passenger train derailed on its way from Portland to Seattle. A couple on their honeymoon, four college students going to a sold-out rock concert at Safeco Field, a family of six visiting the grandparents.
I wonder why they didn’t go to Aidan or Helena or Lucio—or the members of the council? Or Bastian, for that matter?
But no matter. They’re here, they came to me, and it’s my job to help them.
And yet… I hesitate for a second, waiting to see if they’re just pretending to be light spirits. Will they turn dark as soon as I touch them, like the Kirsten spirit?
Don’t be afraid.
The words bubble up inside me—not for them, but for me.
Don’t be afraid. You’re a luiseach. You have the strength and wisdom to handle whatever this is.
I nod to myself and extend my hand to the spirits.
Don’t be afraid. Let me help you cross over to the other side, I tell them.
The spirits drift slowly, uncertainly toward me. And then I remember: I’m not just a luiseach. I’m a unique, special luiseach with unique, special skills. In Llevar la Luz I directed spirits to cross over on their own without my help. According to Aidan, I’m the only one who’s ever been able to accomplish this.
If the world comes to an end soon because Dubu is triumphant, if there are no luiseach left on this planet, then at least I can leave this gift to the humans who remain. The ability to cross over on their own independently, without luiseach, and thus avoid an eternity of darkness trapped on the earthly plane.
Focus on the light. Do you see the light?
Aidan’s Plan B for humanity. Another small, shining ray of hope.
Walk over to the light, not to me.
The spirits obey.
Yes, yes, keep going! You’re so close to the light now.
And then it happens. One by one they pass into the radiance. So much peace. So much beauty. As they disappear they glance over their shoulders one last time and smile serenely at me.
A slight movement. I spot Anna sitting on a tree branch, hugging her stuffed toy owl, watching the spirits curiously.
“Anna!”
She turns slowly to gaze at me and gives a little wave.
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you! Your mom misses you, she’s worried about you.”
Anna kicks her heels against the tree.
“You know that you need to cross over. Soon. Maybe even immediately. Let me help you.”
She shakes her head.
“Why not? It’s been so long since… you know what can happen!”
Anna points to something behind me.
There are two dozen, three dozen spirits, even more. They’re not just from the Northwest but from farther away, from all over—California, New Mexico, Texas, the Midwest, the East Coast, Florida.
I turn my attention to them.
No, not to me. To there. You can make the journey on your own. You can find peace.
The spirits obey and drift away, becoming one with the light.
New spirits keep s
howing up. They’re coming from all around the world, drawn to the energy, the quiet miracle of whatever is happening here. For the next minute, the next hour, the next six hours—I can’t tell—dozens, hundreds of spirits shimmer and billow and cross over on their own.
I laugh and begin to dance. It’s working!
Joy. Everything is joy. I spin around on my bare toes, my nightgown flapping and fluttering like butterfly wings. Spirits flock toward me and I send them on their way—no, they send themselves on their way, drawing just the slightest breath of inspiration from my presence, but no more. I am becoming unnecessary to them, which is exactly as it should be. Soon light spirits everywhere will be able to move on by themselves.
If I survive—if the luiseach race survives—then we’ll be able to do other good. Exorcise demons, destroy them, keep the balance in check. But this work, the work of moving on light spirits, will happen whether we’re here or not.
Plan B. I can’t wait to report this to Aidan.
“Sunshine?”
Anna rarely speaks to me, uses words, says my name.
“Sunshine! Look out!”
I was so lost in joy, love, and miracles that I didn’t notice the other thing. A new spirit rips a jagged path through the shimmering veil of light souls and knocks me to the cold, icy ground.
What the—
In the distance I can hear Oscar barking. Where did he go, where is he? I try to stand up, but the thing, the strange new spirit, knocks me to the ground again, so hard I feel as though my spine has been paralyzed.
And then it dawns on me—oh my gosh, this is a wind demon. Aidan told me about them in Mexico. How ironic—or actually not—that my luiseach knife manifested into a fierce wind last night in order to defeat the smoke demon inside Tiffany. Now the same weapon has been turned against me by the dark forces…
My luiseach knife. I reach for it, but it’s not there. Argh, it’s under my pillow, which is where I always keep it while I’m sleeping. How can I defeat this thing without it? I realize too that I left Helena’s necklace on my nightstand. I know she told me never to take it off, but it was bothering me in the middle of the night.
The Sacrifice of Sunshine Girl Page 18
