by Catie Rhodes
My father’s ghost floated out of a darkened room, the death wound on his neck gaping open. He smiled at the Coachman. “Time to go.” To me, he said, “Get him out of you, baby. And shove him down his followers’ throats.”
My father floated away before I had a chance to ask what he meant.
“I have a question for you.” I put one finger to the corner of my mouth. “You were going to eat my soul and absorb my power. What if I were to eat your soul?” I had no intention of taking his evil into me. I’d only wanted to distract him long enough to give him a taste of his own medicine. The horror on his face almost threw my concentration off to the point where I couldn’t do what I wanted. I focused again and jumped into the Coachman.
His soul was a maze of torture devices manned by black robed beings. His victims’ faces contorted in agony. The ones that weren’t human howled in dumb pain. Rage, my old friend and sparring partner, glimmered in the recesses of my consciousness. If I had been unsure of the Coachman's evil, this little slice of hell let me in on what he was. He had none of the decency most people had, none of the compassion. And he deserved none in return.
I rooted around, cruelly tearing up his playground and letting his victims go free to torture his conscience. They gave me a reward in return for their freedom. All of the Coachman’s victims called his true name. My recitation of his name had been wrong when I tried to banish him with the wax figure. The Coachman had a middle name, and now I knew it. The tortured victims floated away.
The Coachman jumped on my back like a girl who didn’t know how to fight. He tried to claw at my eyes. I shrugged him off like a bag of trash. It was time to find Zora, set her free so she could do the things she was meant to do. I ran down hallway after hallway, searching for that old wooden door.
Call her. Priscilla’s voice filled my head. The two of you know each other from before.
Zora? My voice sounded tinny and fragile, but I felt her pull and ran down a dark hallway. The door appeared. I kicked it open. Inside was nothing but a jar of blue glass with a gold top, the kind Memaw called a Mason jar, regardless of whatever brand we bought.
Pinpricks of light danced around inside the glass. It reminded me of the way older people talked about gathering what they called “lightning bugs” into a jar, which most people no longer did because it killed the poor creatures. But these were no bugs. This was a human soul, a very young one, untainted by the indignities of living life.
“Zora?” I whispered.
The pinpricks of light whirled around the jar faster, bouncing off the sides. I reached for the jar, intending to grab it and break it on the floor, to let Zora free. I figured between Mysti and me, we could direct her back to her body.
Something hit me from behind. The Mason jar danced out of my sight as I flew backward through a brick wall. The Coachman and I faced each other, circling with our hands curled. He was bigger, twice as thick, his fists twice as large. I didn’t care.
I called to the mantle and felt it pour into me stronger than ever. My eyes felt too big for their sockets, and my heart beat too hard. The black opal sizzled on my chest, and the smell of burning flesh drifted up to me. The Coachman struck. I fell to the ground, him on top of me. He crouched over me, slamming punches into my face, one after the other.
I brought my elbows up to guard but thought better of it. I could never beat him here. As long as his followers sent their power, he’d never run out of energy. All I needed to do was get him out of me. Rescuing Zora would have to wait. There had to be a way to surprise him, a way to throw him out fast, or he’d wear me down and overpower me.
The Coachman stopped hitting me. His gaze probed mine, and he tried to work his way back into my scar tissue. I unleashed the power of the mantle on him and blew him backward. It drained me to the point my bones ached. I rushed at him and hit him hard. I wrapped my arms around him, opened my jaw the same way the snake had, and bit his neck.
I ground my jaws down and shook my head, worrying the wound.
The Coachman howled and tried to push me off. I gnawed at him and felt the tough skin break. A light, sweet taste flooded my mouth. It was his soul, his power. So rich and full of promise. For the first time, greed for more power awoke inside me and stretched. Before I had time to think about it, the Coachman wrenched me away from him and tore out of my body. I remembered my father’s words. Shove him down his followers’ throats.
I repelled the Coachman’s retreating form with the last of my power and hoped it was enough. I awoke lying on the forest floor, mouth open, sucking gulps of cold, dry night air into my lungs. Sol, more monstrous in my reality than he’d been in my head, leaned over me.
“Good job. You managed to burn his followers.” Sol tapped the side of his head to show me where it burned them. His pale, puckered skin gleamed in the moonlight. The water dripping off his suit pattered a tiny drumbeat on the cold ground. “Listen to me, and I’ll tell you how to end this threat. Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” I whispered and pulled myself to a sitting position. My head swam drunkenly, and I lurched to the side. Sol pulled me close, his wild, fecund smell nearly overpowering me, and spoke in my ear.
21
“HURRY. Once your enemy’s followers realize they’re about to lose, they’ll pull back and regroup for another try.” Sol shook one black-tipped finger at me.
I crawled to my feet, reaching into my pocket for my cellphone. Gone. Shock twisted inside me. How would I ever find the others in time?
Sol put one cold hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. “Save your energy. I’ve sent help.” The monster walked into the woods and became one with the darkness a few feet in.
With Sol gone, the unreality of the situation set in. The shakes overtook me. I clutched my arms to my chest, hunched over my legs, and took hitching breaths. Images and thoughts tossed in my mind, too wild and overblown for me to latch onto any of them.
The increased power of the mantle surged behind it all, a wild horse on a frayed lead. According to Sol, this was still only a fraction of the mantle’s full power. How would I handle all of it without exploding? My heart beat too hard, and my fingertips hadn’t stopped prickling. The unusual sharpness in my vision had returned with a vengeance. A shiver so strong it was nearly a convulsion ripped through my body.
“No, no, no, no.” The moan came from a few feet away. Wade Hill took careful steps toward me, pistol pointed at me. He took a deep breath and put his finger on the trigger guard.
I held up both quavering hands. “I got him out for now.”
“How do I know?” He took a few more steps toward me, mouth twisting with grief. “Make me believe it.”
“I had to make a deal with that thing from the dark outposts to do it. Remember him? The pig guy? He widened the crack in my scar tissue to make me strong enough to get the Coachman out.” I laid my head on my knees and let myself shake. There was no way I had enough power to do what Sol told me, let alone overpower twelve other people who knew far more magic than I did.
“What’d you give him?” Wade squatted a few feet from me. He stayed far enough away so I couldn’t touch him.
“He said he’d tell me when it was time. He’s also taking the souls of the twelve who summoned the Coachman.” Freezing sweat ran down my back in rivulets.
“You can’t make open ended deals with those—” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “We’ll figure it out when the time comes.”
“He said he sent you to help me.” Another shudder ripped through me.
Wade nodded, eyes downcast. “Yeah. I was headed the other way. All of a sudden, I knew I had to come this way. Had to tromp through a fucking creek to get here.” He shoved his gun into the back of his pants. “Got my damn boots wet.” He raised his head, teeth flashing in the moonlight, eyes crinkled into a grin.
“Can you fix me? And then go back to camp and get the stuff I need?” Part of me wanted him to say no, to get up and run out of these woods, his wet
boots sloshing, and get as far away from me as he could. My deal with Sol was something I never intended. It scared me, made me question who I’d be from now on. First the mantle and now Sol. Before long, there’d be nothing of the old me left. Normal slipped further from my grasp with each step.
I shook off the negative thoughts. They were a luxury I could no longer afford. I had a little girl to save and some people to hurt. Wasn’t that always the way it ended up?
“I’ll never turn my back on you.” Wade came close and put both arms around me. I laid my head on his chest and breathed in his smell—sunshine, gasoline, and the open road. He spoke his magic words, and the power hummed from him to me. It woke me and pushed some of my long lost psychic energy back into place. A few stray shivers bucked through me, and my nerves went calm again. The whole thing took less than a minute. He let me go and stared into my face.
“Better?” he whispered. I nodded. He leaned forward until his lips brushed mine. My arms tightened around him, and we kissed hard.
A branch popped behind me. I jerked in Wade’s embrace. He lurched away from me, pistol already out. Mysti came close enough for us to see her, her hands out. Wade put his pistol away and let out an irritated snort.
“Sorry.” She raised her eyebrows at me.
I told Mysti what I’d had to do to get the Coachman out of me. She moaned and closed her eyes but motioned with one hand for me to continue. Then I told her what I needed from camp and where I needed her to meet me.
“Hell, no. We’re not leaving you here alone.” Wade’s voice raised and echoed through the still night.
“It’s better this way. We can meet at the schoolhouse.”
“Ten minutes.” She motioned Wade to follow her. He hesitated, but I nodded at him to go. I needed to gather myself if I wanted to pull this off. Wade would do nothing but distract me. My lips still thrilled from his touch.
Mysti drew out her cellphone and put it to her ear. I heard her voice raised in agitated tones. I got up and started walking to the old schoolhouse. I had farther to go than Mysti and Wade, but if I kept a good pace, we’d reach it about the same time.
At first, I tried gathering my energy, concentrating it on the task at hand. But I couldn’t quit thinking about Wade’s lips on mine. What had it meant? Likely, nothing more than the heat of the moment. If I was going to let go of the trauma surrounding my battle scars, I ought to let go of Wade Hill while I was at it. Something was wrong, some reason we couldn’t be together. Either it was him or me. Didn’t matter. Maybe it was for the best.
I neared the old schoolhouse and stopped in the woods to watch the lights flickering inside. Sol had been vague in his instructions, maybe purposely so. I wished he hadn’t. This whole witching thing was new to me, and I might screw it up.
“There you are.” Danielle's voice came from behind me.
I stared to turn around.
“No. Not so fast. I’ve got a gun pointed at you.” The hammer clicked as she pulled it back. “Just start walking toward the schoolhouse.”
I stood still, ideas flashing behind my eyes. None of them would work. I needed what I told Mysti and Wade to bring me. The barrel of the gun jammed into the area between my shoulder blades. If she shot me, the bullet would go through my heart. I’d be dead in a couple of minutes. Might as well buy myself some time. I started walking.
When we got close to the building, Danielle yelled, “It’s me, and I’ve got both the vessel and the source. Help me.”
She had Zora? I tried to twist around to see the child, but Danielle dug the pistol’s barrel into my skin. I froze. No way to save the little girl if I was dead.
A woman barely out of her teens came out of the building. She reached for Zora.
“No.” I stuck out one hand, and she batted it away.
My fist curled, and I cocked it back. I’d knock this hussy into tomorrow if she touched Zora. The impact of the pistol’s butt hitting the back of my head knocked my teeth together. I pitched to the ground and hit my forehead on the side of the building. My fight left me, and the world turned a hazy gray. Danielle's hand closed around my upper arm, stronger than I’d expected, and she dragged me inside. A young man appeared and helped Danielle drag me to the center of their circle. The two of them zip-tied my hands and ankles and hooked me up to their pulley system so I’d be ready when they slit my throat.
They’d hung me right over a black, burned spot on the floor. The odor of charred wood still rose off it. I turned my face away to find a young male nerd, the wizards and warlocks type, leaning over me.
“You almost burned this place down without even touching anything.” His breath smelled like tuna and onions. “No wonder the Lord of Babylon wants your blood.”
“The Coachman’s not a lord.” The movement of my cheek scratched against the dirty floor. “He’s just a power hungry asshole. You know how he got his power?”
Nobody answered. I took that to mean they wanted me to tell them.
“He devoured people’s souls and ate their flesh. My ancestor got rid of him once. Stop this silliness and help me get rid of him again.” I searched for a face with reason still left in it.
They all just stared at me, eyes shining with irritation and impatience.
“Do you not understand what he can promise us?” Danielle laid Zora out beside me, hand behind her head to keep it from knocking on the floor. “If we help him be reborn, we’ll be his chosen ones. No more telling fortunes, picking pockets, or working in convenience stores. We’ll live in mansions with dominion over all.”
“Nah.” I rolled onto my back to face her. “He’ll string you along until you’re no use to him. Then he’ll kill you and eat your power too.”
Danielle's face darkened with rage. She stepped over Zora and delivered a kick to my ribcage. I yelped. Maybe I’d be better off saving my energy. I needed to call up my power and wasn’t sure what it would be like now that I was getting more of the mantle’s magic. I didn’t think I could do it.
“You can control it,” said a familiar voice. Priscilla Herrera stepped out of the shadows. “I gave my mantle to you, not to my daughter Samantha, because you’re stubborn and resourceful, capable. Give yourself up to the power. Work with it instead of against it.”
But I needed the items Sol spoke of. Otherwise, I didn’t think his plan would work.
“Prepare anyway.” Priscilla faded.
“Wait.” But I was alone. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a shuddering breath. Nothing left to do but fight. Time to win or die trying.
I looked inside myself for a white mist shot with gold threads, the image I associated with the mantle. The black opal came to life on my chest, pulsing with the beats of my power. I let it flow through me, fingers, toes, until even my lips crawled with it. Ripples of magic worked their way through me. They strained at my skin, making it feel too tight to hold it all.
“It’s time to begin.” Danielle took a position at the top of the circle. She seemed ignorant of all I’d seen. Good. She held up both hands. “I call to the power of the Lord of Babylon. Join us, your highness. Your vessel awaits. Join us.” She repeated herself, and the others chorused, “Join us,” when she got to that part.
Wind, one carrying a high, rotten stench, came from nowhere and caressed my face. It moved my hair and circled around my ears. With this new, increased power of the mantle, I saw the Coachman’s presence as a slithering shadow, creeping along the corners of the room. Where were my friends? I was running out of time.
“Lord of Babylon, join the blood of Peri Jean Mace as it flows from her. Let yourself be carried into the vessel by her power and by the psychic bond connecting the two.” Danielle moved toward me, athame clutched in one hand.
Fear broke out over my body and closed my throat. My mouth went dry. I was out of time. Everything I’d endured, everything I’d given up was for nothing. We’d failed. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited to feel myself being hoisted feet first to hang upside down from the ceilin
g.
“Here it is, Peri Jean,” Wade screamed from outside. The window nearest me broke, and something golden caught the candlelight. Samantha’s disk skidded across the floor. It clattered to a stop in front of me. I turned my intent on it.
“Snake and rat king,” I yelled. These were the words Sol told me to say.
Danielle dropped her raised arms and rolled her eyes. She glared at the disk. “What the hell is this?”
The Coachman’s presence swirled hysterically around the room. “Stop it.” His voice shook the room.
Danielle grabbed at the disk. I directed my power at her mind and squeezed. She fell on her back, convulsing. The others kept their distance, eyes eating up their fool heads.
The disk jittered and rippled. On it appeared diagonals, the same way you’d cut a pie if you wanted to make twelve pieces of it. In the center of the disk a coiled snake etched itself into the metal. In each of the twelve diagonals appeared the image of a rat also etched into the metal. The Coachman’s spirit shot out of the circle. I didn’t see where it went, but I doubted it left. This was too much opportunity to run away from. I might still shit the bed.
“I call on the power of the dark outposts.” I barely recognized my own voice. It rang with a depth I’d never heard before. “The sacrifice is ready.”
The snake etched into the disk rose and glided off the metal. It wasn’t the same one Sol disguised himself as earlier. This snake was decoratively patterned and twice as big. It had two rattles on its tail and the oblong head of a python. It slithered to me and rested its black eyes on me. The message came into my mind, clearer than I wanted. If this doesn’t work, I’ll take you.
I focused my power on the disk and imagined the magical essences of each member of the coven. Just like Mysti, I saw them now. I committed the essences to the disk and imagined them being reborn as rats. The disk rippled again.
“Rat king,” I whispered, pouring my power into it. “Rat king.”
