The Third Sin

by Tamara Geraeds

  He moves his hands and the skeletons jump onto their feet again. “You’re trying too hard to make it do things you believe to be impossible. Try natural movements first.”

  “Okay.” I rub my hands together and start again. This time I let the wave go straight for Jeep and his zombies. I can always strike down the ones the water doesn’t get with my Morningstar.

  The wave appears again, smaller this time, and sweeps Jeep’s puppets off their bony feet. Then it goes right through the tattooed ghost. I am so stunned that he manages to stay on his feet, that I forget to step aside. The water hits my legs with so much force that I tumble forward.

  Jeep roars with laughter.

  Wiping sand and mud from my clothes, I glare at him.

  His laugh turns into a cough and he doubles over. That doesn’t look good.

  I scramble to my feet and reach him as he starts to wriggle and kick.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, scanning the moving tattoos on his arms and neck. “Is it the souls? Are they trying to escape again?”

  He lets out a howl and shoots upright. His hands fold around my neck and start squeezing.

  I gurgle. My eyes roll up on their own as I struggle for breath.

  “Dante!” Vicky’s voice rings out across the garden.

  “No, leave them,” D’Maeo says. He steps into view and meets my eyes. “Use your powers to get him off, but try not to hurt him.”

  I want to shake my head, but Jeep’s hold on me is too strong. The pictures on his arm pulse frantically and his eyes almost pop out of his head.

  Carefully I reach for my core. It’s hard to think when you can’t breathe, so my plan is not much of a plan at all. I just think very hard of golf ball sized hail stones and aim them at Jeep’s head. Instantly it gets darker above us. The wind picks up and howls angrily.

  “Concentrate, Dante,” D’Maeo calls out. “Don’t use too much power.”

  Everything around me is getting hazy and I claw for Jeep’s hands. Air, I need air! No, I mean hail. Just one ball of ice is enough.

  A second later the cloud above us drops about a million hailstones.

  D’Maeo pulls Vicky back. “Contain it, Dante. Come on, you can do it.”

  Jeep’s face doubles as I start to lose consciousness. The hail bruises my arms. My hand opens, as I want to pick up a stone and throw it at the tattooed ghost. But there’s no energy left inside me. My head slides backwards and I close my eyes.

  D’Maeo’s voice gets closer again. “Okay, grab him.”

  The hands finally release my neck and I float to the ground.

  “Dante? Can you hear me?”

  A soft, but cold hand touches my cheek. Energy pulses back into my veins.

  I blink and try to smile.

  Vicky’s worried face hovers above me. She gently strokes my neck. “Does it hurt?”

  I force an answer out of my sore throat. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.” She pulls me into a hug.

  “It’s okay,” I say hoarsely.

  With her body pressed closely against mine, she helps me up.

  “Wow.” Jeep is still on the ground. He looks up at me with wide eyes, his gaze locked onto my throat. “Did I do that? I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not your fault. We should add another point to our to-do-list. Freeing you of those souls.”

  He stares at his feet. “Maybe I shouldn’t be in your Shield anymore.”

  I pull myself from Vicky’s grip. “What? Are you crazy?”

  He pushes himself up and picks up his hat. “I am when those souls try to break free. What if they take full control of my body?”

  “They did already,” D’Maeo answers softly. “You almost choked him.”

  Vicky steps closer and folds her arms. “Yes, and you let him!”

  The old ghost licks his lips. “Yes, I did. And let me tell you why.”

  Taylar and Maël join us. All eyes are on D’Maeo.

  “We are up against the most powerful enemy in the history of… well, everything. We, as a Shield, fought him before. We weren’t able to permanently defeat him. With Dante and Quinn on our side, we are stronger. But not at the moment.”

  “What does that mean?” Vicky grumbles.

  “It means we are not ready for the battle that awaits us yet. None of us are at full strength. Some of our powers aren’t fully developed yet, some of us just don’t know exactly how to use them.”

  Vicky opens her mouth, ready to protest again, but Maël silences her with one swing of her staff. “D’Maeo is right. We can be strong together, but we are not strong enough yet. We need to eliminate our weaknesses. Learn to react faster, and to work more as a team.”

  I carefully stroke my throat. “I thought we were doing pretty well already. We saved two souls and defeated numerous demons and other creatures.”

  D’Maeo smiles. “We did. But it cost us a lot of energy. More than necessary. We all need to learn to respond faster and more efficient. We have to learn to think clearly, even when we’re close to losing our lives. Because one day very soon, Dante, we will have to fight the Devil himself.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Mona heals my throat and I assure Jeep that it’s fine and that I really want him to stay.

  We switch partners and train for the rest of the afternoon. Just before dinner time, I finally manage to summon one ball that hits Mona in the back of the head. She goes down face first and it takes a while for me to wake her up. A large bump spoils her perfect appearance.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she says before I can even apologize. “It’ll only take a minute to heal. I’m just happy that you succeeded.”

  “Took me long enough,” I mumble. D’Maeo’s words keep playing through my mind. I keep thinking that at this rate, I’ll be ready to fight the Devil when I’m eighty.

  Vicky bumps her hip against mine and I smile. “How did it go?”

  She raises a fist in triumph. “I hypnotized Taylar after ten seconds.”

  “Great job!”

  “Thanks.” Her eyes bore into mine and she plants a kiss on my lips. “You should have a little more faith in yourself.”

  We follow the others inside. “I will, when I manage to summon exactly what I want within ten seconds, too.”

  Taylar’s hunched shoulders tell me his training didn’t go so well. I decide to take his mind off it by focusing on something he’s good at. “In the next session I want you to teach me some of your moves, Taylar.”

  He doesn’t look up. “Sure.”

  “Actually…” I wait until I have everyone’s attention. “I think you should teach us all how to use a sword and shield. We need a back-up plan in case we lose our powers, and you’re our best fighter.”

  He blushes. “No, I’m not.”

  Vicky’s head bobs up and down. “Yes, you are. You’re great at offense and defense, and you’re freaking fast. I wish I could fight like that.”

  The corners of his mouth twitch.

  I slap him on the shoulder. “As soon as we have time, you can show us how you do all that.”

  He bows. “It would be my pleasure, master.”

  After a drink, Mona offers to make pasta. The ghosts decline, but my stomach is already rumbling and spaghetti sounds almost like heaven right now.

  D’Maeo suggests that the rest of us pick up the restoration of the manor where Quinn and Charlie left off. We find the paint and paintbrushes they used in one of the cupboards on the second floor.

  “Who’s good at painting?” I ask the Shield standing around me.

  No one responds. Taylar is suddenly very interested in the loose floorboard under his foot and Maël is adjusting her cape with unnecessary precision.

  I laugh. “Okay, everyone hates painting. Got it. I can do it myself, if you guys are willing to grate the door and window frames and fix the floors and ceilings.”

  “No problem,” they say in uniso
n.

  “Great, I left my toolkit downstairs. I’ll go get it. I have to change anyway, if I don’t want to ruin my clothes.”

  “I’ll help you,” Vicky says a bit too fast.

  Taylar clicks his tongue. “You need help getting dressed? Poor you.”

  Vicky pushes her upper body against mine and gives me a long kiss. “He doesn’t, but it’s more fun together.”

  Jeep snorts. “Oh please. Get a room.”

  Vicky points at the annex behind us. “We have a room.”

  Taylar walks into it and yells. “Not right now! I’m fixing the floor here.”

  I give him a thumbs up when he looks around the corner. “Good idea. I’ll get you some tools.”

  When Vicky and I reach the bottom of the stairs, there’s a knock on the door.

  I open it to find my best friend.

  “How is everything here?” Charlie asks.

  I shrug. “It’s alright.”

  He steps inside and follows us to the kitchen. I fill him in on the latest news and happenings and he seems happy to help me paint.

  “Did you find Paul?” I ask, handing him the tool box. “You’ve been gone a while.”

  He closes up his Hawaiian shirt before taking the box from me. “No, he’s gone into hiding. So either he’s scared of us now that we’ve taken out Simon, the Minotaur and the ghoul, or he’s planning some kind of attack.”

  I put on my work shoes and follow him upstairs. “We should probably assume the latter.”

  We leave the tool box and Vicky with the Shield and go into Taylar’s room.

  After looking around it for a bit, we come to the conclusion that we only need to paint the ceiling.

  Charlie pulls at the back of the bed. “Help me move the furniture.”

  I put down the can of paint. “We can’t, everything is bolted to the floor.”

  Charlie gets on his knees. “You’re right. Why is that?”

  “Good question. I’ve been meaning to ask Taylar about that. The others say it has something to do with unfinished business.”

  In the blink of an eye, Charlie is back on his feet and out the door. “Hey Taylar, can you come help us for a minute?”

  The white-haired ghost appears a second later. “What’s up?”

  Charlie shifts his gaze to me and I sit down on the bed. “There’s something we should talk about.”

  Taylar shakes some dust out of his hair. “Okay.”

  I wring my hands together. “I want what’s best for you and the rest of the Shield. Vicky’s and Jeep’s episodes are nasty, but we’re prepared for them. In order to keep all of us safe, I have to know what’s going on with you.”

  He shuffles his feet. “Nothing is going on with me.”

  Silence descends on us. When he finally looks up, I give him a stern look. “If you tell me the truth, Taylar, I might be able to help you. Why is every piece of furniture in your room bolted to the floor and why do you have pictures under your bed?”

  He plays with the hammer in his hand and stares right past me. “I don’t know.”

  His whole body has tightened and the joy has left his eyes.

  I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I won’t blame you for anything. Just tell me the truth.”

  For a moment it looks like he’s fighting an inner battle. It’s not until he answers with “Yes, master” that I realize he has to do as I tell him.

  With a gentle push I lead him to the bed. He starts talking as soon as he sits down. “As you might already know, I was left by my parents when I was young.”

  “How young?” Charlie interrupts.

  “Eight.”

  I puff up my cheeks. “Wow, that’s tough, man.”

  He doesn’t respond. “When they kicked me out because I cost too much money, my brother Lleyton followed me. He had just turned eleven at the time. He packed some clothes and food and we took shelter in an abandoned house. We lived there for more than a year. He protected me.”

  “How did you survive?” I ask. “Where did you get food?”

  “My brother was a big fan of Robin Hood, so he suggested to steal food from the rich. We did fine for a while, but one of those rich guys planted a trap. Lleyton walked right into it.”

  Charlie takes a bar of chocolate out of his pocket and hands it to Taylar. “Here, take some.”

  “Thanks.” He takes off the wrapper and stuffs a big chunk into his mouth. “We used to eat chocolate all the time, because that’s what the rich kids kept in their rooms. The healthy things were too difficult to prepare without electricity anyway, so we kept it simple. We lived on raw vegetables, cake and candy and soup.” He takes another bite from the bar in his hand and stares in the distance. I can almost see what he sees. Two young boys struggling to survive, camping out in an old, drafty house.

  “Tell me about the trap,” I say.

  His face contracts in sorrow as he continues. “The man we robbed put a tracking spell on Lleyton. He followed us home and released a gravity pixie. That night we-”

  I hold up my hands. “Hold on, hold on. A what?”

  “A gravity pixie. You know what a pixie is, right?”

  “Sure, it’s a bit like a fairy, isn’t it? Small, with wings and a nasty appetite for mischief?”

  He munches up the rest of the chocolate. “Exactly. Only their mischief can be very dangerous. Especially if it’s a gravity pixie.”

  Charlie gives the bolts under the bed a kick. “I have a feeling I know where this is going, and it makes perfect sense to me to install bolts.”

  I give Taylar an encouraging nod. “Please go on, I know nothing about gravity pixies.”

  The young ghost wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “They’re the worst kind. Let me show you.”

  A flash of light blinds me. My insides are pulled in every direction and I wave my hands in search of support.

  CHAPTER 22

  A second later I stop moving. I swallow the bile rising in my throat and carefully open my eyes.

  I’m standing in the middle of a mess. Shards of wood form bridges between torn furniture and piles of garbage. Icy wind blows up mini tornados of dust everywhere.

  I make my way around the sharp ends sticking out everywhere and notice a semi clean mattress in the opposite corner. There’s a cluster of blankets and rugs in all shapes and sizes on it. A low wooden stool serves as a bedside table, where an old children’s book waits silently next to a green apple. Something sticks out of the book and I reach for it. My hand goes straight through. I pull back and examine my arm. It looks normal.

  When I look over my shoulder at the spot where I arrived, I notice there are no footprints.

  So I can’t touch anything here. That’s too bad. It would have made exploring easier.

  But there’s no need to look around further, because a noise disturbs the quiet air. I whirl around and see a head pushing through the open window. A blond head.

  A boy that looks a lot like Taylar climbs inside and holds out his hands. “Okay, push it up.”

  A large bag slowly becomes visible and the boy pulls it through the window. Gently, he sets it down beside him and turns back to the window. Another blond head appears. This one is a bit younger. It must be Taylar.

  “Grab my hand, T.,” the boy inside says. “I’ll pull you up.”

  Taylar shakes his head. “No, I can do it.”

  His brother steps back. “I know you can, you’re the best climber in town.”

  Young Taylar hauls himself onto the windowsill with ease and slides inside. “The best climber in the country, Lley.”

  Lleyton laughs. “Of course, that’s what I meant.”

  Taylar dives for the bag. “Is it still intact?” He pulls the rope that ties it and carefully takes something out.

  “Yeah!” Lleyton cheers.

  They share a high five.

  Taylar holds up a small fish bowl, with a lonely g
oldfish in it. “Welcome to our family, Bubbles.”

  He walks to the stool and throws the book and the apple onto the mattress. Carefully he places the fish bowl on the makeshift night stand.

  My gaze shifts to the mattress. A photograph has slid from the pages of the book. I recognize it from when I drew a pentagram under Taylar’s bed. He still has this picture.

  Lleyton goes to another room to put away the food they brought.

  Meanwhile Taylar sits down and picks up the children’s book. “Would you like to hear a story, Bubbles?”

  He flips to the first page, but before he can start reading, there’s a shout of panic from behind the door.

  Taylar is on his feet in the blink of an eye. He grabs the torn armrest of a chair from behind the mattress and slowly approaches the door. “Lleyton?”

  He raises his weapon when a loud crash echoes through the house. In one swift move he opens the door and runs through it, yelling like a madman.

  “Watch out!” His brother shouts.

  He ducks and a pan flies over his head and slams against the wall. As dust crumbles to the floor, the boys are lifted off their feet.

  Taylar presses the armrest closely to his chest, while he spins through the air.

  “Put us down!” Lleyton shouts. “We didn’t do anything to you.”

  Something the size of a sparrow zooms up and hovers in front of him. Taylar watches it upside down.

  “No,” it says in a high-pitched voice, “but you stole from my master for the second time. You have to be punished.”

  Lleyton grabs a kitchen cabinet and tries to pull himself back to the ground. “Your master has enough food to feed the whole of Africa! Can’t he spare a little for the poor?”

  The creature waves a tiny finger. “That is not for you to decide.”

  Taylar has managed to steer himself upright. “There’s no arguing with a pixie, Lley.” He swings the armrest and hits the creature in the gut.

  It smacks against the wall hard and the boys fall down.

  Lleyton hits his head against the kitchen counter and Taylar hurries over to him. “Are you okay?”

  His brother blinks. “Fine.”