by Sarah Fine
Dec started to laugh. Galena gave him a scared, questioning look. He was wearing an amused grin. She took another halting step toward the windows. “What the hell is happening to me?”
“There’s a soul in the Veil that needs to be guided,” he said, touching his Scope. “And now that you bear the Mark of the Ferry, you’re up.”
“I’m up?”
He pulled his own Scope from the setting at his throat. “Yeah. Sometimes you’ll feel it because a Ker has summoned you specifically. One of my best friends is a Ker, actually, and we work together all the time.” Dec paused, and Galena swore he looked troubled for a moment. Then he scrubbed his hand over his face. “But even if no Ker summons you, sometimes it’s just your turn. And since you’re new, that’s what’s happening now. You can ignore it if you need to—another Ferry will usually feel it, too, and everybody’s in this for the gold. But if you wait, you risk allowing the soul to go rabid. And trust me, you do not want to deal with that.”
“I guess I should go, then,” she said, looking down nervously at the pendant in his hand.
He walked over to her and brushed his thumb over the face of the Scope. Its center glowed white. Cold air wafted across Galena’s skin. She looked into Dec’s eyes. His smile was magnetic, drawing her to him while pushing away her fear. “All right, Dr. Mrs. Galena Rachel Margolis-Ferry—ready for your first trip into the Veil?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dec watched Galena closely as she stared at the Scope in his hands. “It’s easy to open your Scope,” he explained. “Just slide your fingertip over it, and it’ll respond to you.”
Her slender fingers rose to the small platinum disk at her throat. “I don’t know how to understand what I’m seeing.”
“Then wait until you see this.” He pulled at the edges of his Scope, stretching it to become a hoop about two feet across. Within its boundaries swirled the bubble-thin barrier between this world and the Veil. Cold rolled from it, raising goose bumps on their arms.
“Oh my God. I can see . . . what is that?” She walked around to the other side of the Scope and peered at him through the ghostly gray portal between them. Then her head popped up, and she viewed him over the top of its rim, her eyes round with shock. And then she ducked again and stared at him, like she was playing a baffled game of peekaboo. Dec held back a chuckle as she returned to his side, her trembling fingers moving forward to touch the edge of the real world. Dec felt a strange sort of pride as her fingertips traced across its delicate surface. Any fear she felt seemed to be submerged beneath a hungry sort of curiosity. She let out a gasp as her hand sank through to the other side. But instead of yanking it back, which would have been the normal response for first-timers, she merely stared unblinking at her own palm, now gray and faded.
She swallowed hard. “If the universe is infinite, and the ways matter can configure are finite because of the limitations in its components, then there must be repetition somewhere. This is proof.”
A surprised laugh burst from Dec’s throat. “What?”
She pushed forward until she was up to her elbow in the Veil. “Multiverse. String theory. I-I just . . . oh my God. It doesn’t seem adequate.” She muttered something about mathematics falling apart under certain hypothetical circumstances.
“This isn’t hypothetical¸” Dec said, hoping he didn’t sound like an idiot. “This is very real. Come on.” He yanked the Scope wide enough to cover both of them and looked down at her. Once again, he was struck by the fierce eagerness in her eyes. He’d known she was into her work, but he’d never really considered the aggressive single-minded thirst for knowledge it must have taken to get to her level, to be at the forefront of science before she’d even reached thirty, to be capable of saving millions of lives when she’d barely had time to live her own. But now he could almost picture her brain, gears whirring, the most complex machine imaginable. A weird sort of protectiveness grew inside him, different from what he’d felt before. He’d known she was important, but mostly he’d felt compelled to protect her because she was vulnerable. Now he wanted to protect her because she was, well, special, he guessed. He couldn’t think of a better word.
Oh, wait. Amazing. That one was good, too. “You ready?”
She nodded, her eyes narrowing as she wiggled her fingers. “Let’s go.”
He lowered the hoop over them, and Galena let out an adorable little yip as the Veil engulfed her. By the time the wide ring had reached their feet, she had hopped over its edge and was standing on the now-soft floor of his apartment. Dec scanned his space. No sign of Tamasin or Nader, but that made sense. Tonight, Galena was supposed to become immortal. She wouldn’t need as much protection. Besides, he was sure the two Kere had been instructed to give him and Galena some privacy.
He turned to Galena, but she’d disappeared. Then he heard a squelching sound near his feet. She’d dropped to her hands and knees, and her palms were skimming over the gelatinous hardwood. “Matter is in a different state,” she mumbled. “Except not. Still solid. But the molecular density has changed.” She tried to scoop it up, but it wasn’t possible.
“We can’t affect objects in the real world,” Dec said. “In the Veil, these structures—all the buildings, the vehicles—they’re more like suggestions. They bounce back no matter what you do to them. They only change if the actual object changes or moves in the real world.”
Galena poked her finger straight down into the floor and drew her hand back in surprise. “The surface tension . . . it’s a solid with the properties of a liquid, molecules drawn inward by cohesive forces.” There she was, nearly flat on his floor, jabbing her finger in and out of it like she’d never seen anything more fascinating. And then she moaned softly and slid forward, pulled by the need of a soul nearby.
Dec bent down and put his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him with these huge, innocent eyes, and the bafflement on her face drew another laugh from his mouth. He was so used to the Veil that it held little interest or mystery for him anymore, but now he was filled with an eagerness to show his world to Galena. “Come on, Einstein. There’s someone out there who needs you.” He helped her to her feet.
“Where, though?” she asked, looking around the gelatinous gray world of his apartment like she expected the dead person to be sitting on his sofa.
“You have to use your Scope.” He tapped it lightly. “Take it off the setting and just hold it for a second. Think of the soul that’s calling to you right now. Then open the Scope like I showed you.”
Galena obeyed him, unclipping her Scope and holding it in her palm. “It’s warm now,” she said. “Ever since I put it on, it’s been cold.”
“You were feeling the Veil inside it,” Dec explained. “Now you’re feeling the real world.”
Her fingers closed over the Scope. “But this actually feels good,” she said in this wispy, drifty voice, and Dec felt a pang. He wondered how long it had been since the real world felt good to Galena. He brushed her hair across her shoulder and moved close to her.
He flipped the Scope in her palm so the raven was faceup. “That’s the side you want whenever you’re trying to get somewhere,” he said quietly. “Now press your thumb on it and concentrate.”
She bit her lip, and Dec felt his groin tighten. Not the time, he reminded himself. He let out a long breath as she smoothed her thumb over the raven’s body, opening an intra-Veil portal. “This will take us where the soul is?”
Dec nodded. “It never fails.”
Galena smiled and pulled her Scope wide, then cautiously peered inside. That was smart. It was always good to know what you were getting into. She stuck her hand through the boundary in the center of the hoop. “So I just—”
“That’s it. Go ahead.”
She looked up at him. “But you’re coming, too, right?”
He skimmed the back of his fingers across her cheek. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
She blinked, but then held the Scope above their head
s and lowered it over them. When she was done, Dec looked around. They were in Cambridge, of all places. Right in the middle of Cambridge Common, a large weedy park dotted with scraggly trees. Dec could see the high-rise of the school of government several blocks away, and he knew that Galena’s lab was less than half a mile from here. Galena didn’t seem distracted, though—she was completely focused on doing what she’d come here to do. She glanced behind her, searching for the soul that had called to her, and then marched off to her left, her Scope clutched in her hand. Dec jogged over to keep up with her, pleased at her lack of hesitation.
“Hello?” she called out.
“The soul probably won’t answer,” said Dec. “Between the two of you, the recently dead person is always going to be more confused about what’s going on.”
“That makes a lot of sense. This wouldn’t be what I expected, either.”
They found the soul sitting at the base of a tree, right next to the shadowy shape of his own corpse. He was in his late teens, maybe early twenties, skinny as a pole, with lanky light-brown hair that hung greasy around his face. Galena slowed down as she caught sight of him.
“Um,” she said in a quiet, shaky voice. “He won’t hurt me, right?”
Dec eyed the soul. “He looks pretty mellow to me.” He figured now wasn’t the time to tell her that sometimes souls did get feisty. “But if he makes any kind of move, just know I’m here, all right?” And he would crush this guy if he so much as twitched toward Galena.
Galena nodded, and Dec wondered if she realized that she’d inched closer to him, like he was her haven. Once again, that odd sense of proud protectiveness washed over him. “Go ahead,” he told her. “Talk to him. Just tell him you’re there to show him where he’s supposed to go.”
Galena stepped forward. “Hi there,” she said loudly.
At the sound of her voice, the soul looked up. “Who are you?”
“My name is Galena,” she said gently. “How are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” the guy said. “I don’t know how I got here.” He glanced at his transparent, lifeless body and looked away just as quickly.
Galena looked back at Dec, and he nodded at her. She turned to the soul again. “I know it must be disorienting. You’re being very brave.”
His face brightened. “You think so?”
“I do,” she said.
Dec tensed, praying she wasn’t about to have to send this boy to Hell. He moved close and touched her Scope. “Turn it over so the scales are faceup,” he instructed.
Galena turned her Scope over. Her gaze traced the scales, and she frowned. He wondered if she’d realized what they stood for. The Afterlife was not a place of mercy or pity. It was a place where the balance of one’s life was weighed. Ferrys didn’t get to decide—all they did was mete out justice. “Dec . . .”
“Brush your thumb over it,” he told her, preparing to help her follow through if necessary. “It’ll open the door.”
Galena looked at the young man before her. “I’m going to help you get to the right place, okay?”
The guy’s brow furrowed. “How do you know where I’m supposed to go?”
She slid her thumb across the scales, and the center of her Scope flashed white. Dec relaxed. “It’s Heaven,” he whispered to her. “Go ahead. Use it just like we did when we stepped into the Veil.”
Galena grinned. “I’m going to put this over you, and you’re going to be in a wonderful place.”
The guy stood up, his dirty jeans sagging from his bony hips. “You promise?”
She pulled the Scope wide, and the young man’s eyes lit up when he saw what lay inside. As always, Dec felt a quiet yearning, knowing his mother was somewhere within that happy, peaceful world. What he wouldn’t give to see her face one more time.
Galena moved forward and carefully lowered the ring of the Scope over the young man’s head. “Bye,” she said quietly as the guy disappeared. She stared at her Scope on the squishy gray grass, still stretched wide, then started to push on its edges to compact it again.
“No,” Dec said, putting his hand on her arm. “Hold it up. Now you get paid.”
“I get paid?” She plucked the Scope from the ground and peered into its sparkling bright-white center.
A heavy gold coin flew out of it and hit Galena in the belly before plopping to the ground at her feet. “Wow,” she whispered. She knelt to pick it up.
“Need some help splitting that?” The silky voice came from just behind them.
Galena jumped up and whirled, and her mouth dropped open. She let out a cry and stumbled backward, landing on her ass. Dec stepped between her and the new arrivals, already irritated.
Two Kere stood just a few feet away. Luke was leaning against a lamppost, his close-cropped platinum hair gray in the Veil, his eyes glowing red. Dec had worked with him dozens of times. He was quite the voyeur when it came to death—he loved watching his victims as they struggled to take their final breaths. Next to Luke was a young woman Dec had never seen before, her deep-brown hair twisted into an elaborate knot high on the back of her head. She was cute. Round cheeks, big eyes fringed with long lashes, a few freckles dusted across her pert little nose. She wore a patterned sundress. Apart from the fangs and claws, she looked more suited for a garden party than Marking the doomed.
“Luke, who’s your friend?” Dec asked.
“I’m Erin,” she said.
“She’s new,” said Luke. “I’m showing her the ropes.”
Dec stared at Erin. The Kere were killers. All of them. They had to have murdered at least one person during their human lives for Moros to even consider allowing them into his ranks. This new Ker didn’t look the type. She bit her lip as she saw Dec watching her. “I’m expecting to get my first assignment soon. I’m kind of nervous.”
Luke smiled down at his charge. “You’re gonna enjoy it, honey. I promise.”
Of all the Kere to be teaching a newbie, Luke would not have been his choice. The blond Ker looked down at the transparent shape of the dead man lying on the grass, and his lip curled with contempt. “Took him long enough. He hung on so long I got bored.”
“Luke,” Erin chided. “Don’t be mean.”
Dec looked over his shoulder at Galena, who was on her feet now. He should have warned her about how the Kere looked in the Veil. She looked down at the coin in her hand, and then up at Luke. “You’re the one who did this? You . . . Marked that guy? You decided how he would die?”
Luke nodded. “Classic, no? I thought it was time for a little rat-bite fever outbreak.”
Dec groaned inwardly and took Galena’s hand, wishing that, of all the Kere in the world, Luke had not been the first one she had to work with.
“What did you just say?” she asked.
Erin frowned when she heard the shaking anger in Galena’s voice, but Luke gave Galena an amused look. “Rat. Bite. Fever,” he said, giving her a poisonous smile.
Dec remembered that Luke had been there the night Galena gave her speech at the Harvard fund-raiser. He recognizes her. This is a challenge. His suspicion was confirmed a second later as Luke said, “Some of the smallest predators are the most dangerous, right, Doc?”
Galena stared at the Ker, her face blank, but because Dec was holding her hand, he felt the rage kindling inside her. “That doesn’t mean they’re invincible,” she muttered. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”
Her gaze was so steady that Luke’s arrogant smirk disappeared. “It’s what I am, honey. I don’t apologize for what I am.”
“Yes, I can see you’re nearly as insightful as the Streptobacillus moniliformis itself. Congratulations.”
Luke’s brows knit together in confusion. “The what?”
“Rat. Bite. Fever,” Galena said, mimicking his condescending tone. “If you respect it so much as a predator, the least you could do is learn its proper name.”
Erin grabbed Luke’s hand, like she was trying to calm him down, even as the claws on Luke’
s other hand elongated, as if he wanted to strike. “I don’t need to know what it’s called to start an epidemic,” he growled.
Luke was an asshole, but he’d never seemed this aggressive before. Dec edged closer to Galena, who didn’t appear the slightest bit cowed. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” she said.
Dec couldn’t help his bemused surprise. He’d been prepared to tell Luke to step the fuck off, but if anyone looked like a predator right now, it was Galena.
Luke snarled. “Moros has gone soft. Or maybe weak. I don’t know why he’s protecting you.”
“Don’t talk about him that way,” Erin whispered, her fingers clutching his. “It’s dangerous.”
Luke looked down at the young Ker. “I’ll talk about that bastard however I want,” he snapped.
“Galena, you have to give Luke half of your coin,” Dec told her as Luke shook off Erin’s restraining grip and paced toward them, his eyes flicking greedily to the gold in her hand. “Toss it at him and let him split it.” The sooner, the better. He wanted to get Galena away from Luke right now.
She held up the coin. “This is solid metal. How is he going to—?”
“Not a problem.” Luke grinned, showing his fangs. “Hand it over.”
She flung it at him like she couldn’t get rid of it fast enough, and he caught it. With a nasty sort of relish, he snapped his jaws down over it. The coin split with a quiet metallic crunch. Erin’s eyes went wide, and she ran her tongue over her fangs. “Whoa,” she whispered.
Luke spit into his hand and held out the two halves to Galena. “I cut, so you choose.”
Galena looked down at the two halves of her Afterlife coin. One was glistening with Luke’s saliva. She chose the other, even though it was a little smaller, which was probably exactly what Luke had wanted her to do. Luke kept his red eyes on her as he stepped back. “Nice working with you, Doc.”
Galena smiled, a glittering grin that was almost as intimidating as Luke’s. “Same to you,” she said in a tight voice.
