by Amos Cassidy
Clay reached a door at the farthest point in the corridor. It was gold, the paint peeling around the edges to expose the grey beneath it.
He knocked three times.
He’d never been inside this room. In fact, he didn’t know of anyone who had. His stomach was alive with butterflies.
The door opened with a creak and Mother Barbara was there.
“Hello, Clayton,” she said. “Please come in.” She gestured with her arm for him to come through.
Her room was small, with a bed and two wooden chairs. Between the two seats was a little table with two mugs and a plate of crackers.
“I’m afraid that is all I have,” she said.
“No, it’s fine,” Clay said. That was all any of them would have soon enough.
“I hope I didn’t falsely entice you with the promise of better food than this.”
“Not at all.”
“Good to know. Please, take a seat.”
There was clear liquid in the mugs.
“Water,” Barbara said.
Clay nodded.
“Water is the purest of beverages, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”
“Help yourself.”
He didn’t feel like eating or drinking. He just wanted to listen.
Mother Barbara took a delicate bite of a cracker and washed it down with a sip of water.
“These are dark times, Clayton,” she said.
“Haven’t they always been?”
“Indeed they have, but I am referring to something else.” She sipped some more water. “You have a good heart, I can tell. All around you I see so much goodness, so much light. You’re a very special person, Clayton. It hurts me deeply to see that light fading.”
And the Mother will be the light for you, to help . . . Whatever she was going to say, he didn’t want to hear it. He was starting to shut down. There’d obviously been a mistake on his part. He’d been worried sick about what she wanted to talk to him about. No one had a private audience with Mother Barbara.
“You have had that light stolen.”
“What?”
“Stolen, Clayton.”
“Yeah.”
“No.” Her expression darkened. “Your grief should not be your grief. Not now.”
“What are you talking about?”
She cocked her head. “I see the doubt in your eyes. It’s nothing more than a grain, but it’s there, isn’t it?”
“What doubt?”
“You know full well what I’m talking about.”
She was crazy, full-on bonkers.
“I need to go.”
“Don’t be a fool, Clayton. Look at me. There . . . there it is . . . doubt. I have my doubts too.”
“Ash?”
“Yes.”
“I said good-bye. I saw her body.”
“Did you?”
This isn’t real . . .
That voice . . . He’d put it all down to some sort of denial . . . was it . . . something more?
What do you feel, Clayton? You and your sister have a bond like no other. You shared a womb. Tell me, what do you feel?”
“I-I don’t know.” His heartbeat sped up and his palms were clammy.
“Close your eyes.”
“What information do you have?”
“Close your eyes, Clayton.”
“No. Why are you putting these things in my head? I saw her, I saw my sister.”
“You saw a body.”
“Who was wearing her clothes.”
“Yet her face was broken beyond recognition.”
“You’re cruel.”
“Me? No, Clayton.”
“Did you see her body?”
“Yes, I saw—”
“And so did I. She was my sister, I would know better than anyone if it wasn’t her.”
“You do know better than anyone. What else is amiss? Who else is missing?”
He’d gone to find Ash at Bernadette’s but no one had been there, in fact he couldn’t recall seeing Bernadette at the funeral service or the cremation. Bernadette was one of Ash’s few friends, a fellow reaper, she would have been there if she could...
“Yes, Clay, listen to your instincts.”
And suddenly the alarm bells that he had placed on mute in his head blared to life. “I don’t understand. Why would they fake something like this?”
Mother Barbara sipped on her water. “That is something you need to find out for yourself.”
“Ash is alive?”
It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. Ash was alive. He could feel her somewhere inside him, their bond was still intact. It had been there all along, just lost, buried under misplaced grief. He wanted to scream. How could he have been so blind? He should have listened to the fool’s voice, the fool who was not a fool. “Ash is alive.” His head was spinning.
“Would you like some water, Clayton?”
This was real, very real, a massive punch to his gut.
But his brain couldn’t take it. Was he dreaming? He couldn’t breathe, was too hot, way too hot.
Clay felt himself sliding out of the chair and into darkness.
***
There she is, his Ash, standing in a place he can’t understand.
Shadows curl around her.
They want to hurt her.
He has to help her.
Cool on his face.
Water.
Water.
***
Clay’s eyes opened. “Water,” he said.
His face was wet. Mother Barbara was hovering above him, a mug in her hand.
“Sorry, Clayton, but I had to wake you up somehow. Are you fit to get up?”
“Yes.”
“Good, let me help you.”
She offered him an arm, but he refused it, getting to his feet by himself. His head felt fuzzy and his legs weak.
“Have a seat,” Barbara said. “And have some water.”
He reached out for the mug and took some hearty swigs. The cold liquid soothed his insides, stopped his trembling.
“She’s alive,” Clay said. “She really is alive. I-I know she is, I know she is. I knew she was.”
“Drink some more water.”
“H-how did you know?”
“All I can say to you, Clayton, is that the Mother whispered in my ear, she showed me the false grief, how your light had been stolen for no good reason.”
“Lies are poisonous blooms,” Clay said. “Often they are beautiful flowers, there to deceive.”
“Their perfume shrouds the soul from the truth,” Barbara continued. “No matter their intention, a lie is a deadly flower.” She picked up a cracker. “As with all of the Word, there is so much truth in these lines.”
He’d been lied to. “So where is she?”
“I know no more, dear boy. I have fulfilled my duty to light your way. Now you must discover the rest for yourself.”
“Blake . . .”
“Would you like a cracker?”
He stood up. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Thank you. I-I can’t believe this.”
“Good luck, dear boy.”
He left the room full of rage and hope. Ash was alive! All of his wobbliness had dissipated. Anger was the fuel keeping him upright.
“Clay?”
He walked slap bang into Ryder.
“You’ve been down the Holy Corridor?” Ryder asked. “Sorry, not my business, it’s just no one goes down there.”
“What are you doing?”
“I-I . . .” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know. I just wanted to . . . to maybe see . . . I miss her.” He winced. “Sorry, I didn’t want to say that to you.” He put up his hands. “I’m gone.”
Clay grabbed his arm as he went to walk away. “Wait.”
“What is it?”
Could he tell Ryder? Should he? Was Ryder in on this lie? Clay looked into his grey eyes and s
aw grief, pure grief. There was no deception.
“I need to talk to you.”
“What?”
He had to see Blake first.
“Can I come to your room later?”
“Clay? What’s going on?”
“I have to go. Can I come later?”
Ryder cocked his head. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll wait for you.”
“See you later.”
***
Clay charged into the Eye to find Blake watching the monitors.
Blake started and shot round. “Clay?”
Clay closed the door behind him. “Are we alone?”
“What?”
“Are we alone?”
“Yes. Why? What’s that matter?” Blake got off his seat. “You look upset.”
“Oh, I’m beyond that.”
That flash in his eyes—the thing that had bugged Clay. He’d believed it had been stress and worry about his job. But it hadn’t been any of that. It was the sign of a lie.
“Clay?”
“Ash is alive.”
Blake’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Don’t look so shocked.”
“Clay, I—”
“You know she’s alive. All this time you’ve known.”
“I—”
“If you’re thinking of spinning more crap my way then you can stop right there.”
“Clay . . .”
“You lied to me.”
Blake took a step forward. “Listen to me—”
“No! Don’t come near me.”
Blake stopped. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Really? You’re sorry for lying to me, for making me believe my sister was dead? I thought I’d buried her! You let me look at that body and think it was Ash. How could you?”
“There’s more to it.”
“You told me you wished you could take away the pain! You had that power all along!”
“You need to listen to me, Clay.”
“Where is my sister?”
Blake’s shoulders dropped. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Clay bit his bottom lip. Sorry? He was going to play that guilty card?
“Everything is a lie,” Blake said. “All of it. There is no soil and there will be no agricultural programme. We’re dying, Clay. Ash,” he shook his head, “she’s out there, trying to find a way to save us. She’s in the Shadowlands.”
“What?” His stomach flipped.
“She’s out there, Clay. Bernadette is with her. She didn’t want you to know, she . . . we had to . . . we used a body from the slums to make it look . . .” He reached for Clay but Clay backed away in disgust. Blake’s face crumpled and he fell to his knees. “I’m so sorry, Clay. If you thought she was dead, you wouldn’t go after her.”
Clay clenched his fists. “She wanted me to think she was dead?”
“Yes, but to protect you.”
“I-I don’t get this. Everyone thinks she’s dead, how were you going to explain her return?”
Blake’s expression shuttered. “Clay, she’s in the Shadowlands and she hasn’t returned so...”
He thought she was dead! “I can’t believe this. My sister is out there. She needs me.” He couldn’t let her be out here in the Shadowlands! He had to go and find her.
“No, Clay.”
“Don’t you dare tell me no. By the Mother, she’s my sister! My sister, Blake! I don’t even know who you are.”
“You—”
“I can’t look at you anymore.” He turned away. “You lied to me in the worst possible way. All my hope had gone, everything was lost to me!”
“Please, Clay. I love you.”
Clay felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. “You made us all think we had a future. You and the council should be ashamed of yourselves.”
“Please . . .” Blakes voice trembled.
“You disgust me.” The words burned, but he had no others to offer. Blake had betrayed him. There were no tears, nothing but the ache and the anger.
***
Clay hammered on the door.
Ryder answered. “Clay? Come in.”
“You need to sit down.”
“Okay.” Ryder perched on the edge of his bed. “You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m just going to say this . . . Ash is alive.”
“What the hell?”
“Ash isn’t dead, Ryder. She’s gone out beyond the Horizon. She’s—”
“No.”
“Yes. The Shadowlands.”
“But I saw her body. We said goodbye . . .”
Clay explained everything all the lies, why Ash was out there.
“Your sister . . .” Ryder shook his head. “Dammit! What the hell was she thinking? Why didn’t she tell me?”
Clay said nothing.
“You don’t have to look at me that way. I know why.”
“Good. Now, I’m going after her.”
“You what?”
“I’m going out there. I need your help. You coming?”
“Clay, you can’t.”
“Bullshit. I’m done talking. No one is stopping me. I thought my twin was dead, and now I know she’s still alive and in the Shadowlands. You think I’m gonna sit on my arse and do nothing, wait for her safe return?”
“I’ll come.”
“Good. We go now. We gather some supplies and we go now.”
“What about Blake?”
“I don’t care. He’s not getting in my way.”
Ryder stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry he lied to you.”
“He lied to all of us.”
Ryder nodded.
“Meet me by the Eye in ten minutes.”
***
Ryder had tied Blake to his chair with rope and it broke Clay’s heart.
“I can’t let you do this,” Blake said.
“I don’t care. Ryder, open the hatch.”
“Clay, you can’t go out there. You’re not a Reaper, you’re not trained for this. It’s too dangerous”
“No, but Ryder is.”
“Clay!”
“Someone will let you out of that,” Clay said.
“Don’t do this, Clay.”
Is it too tight? He wouldn’t ask that. No matter how much it hurt to see him bound, there was no other choice.
“Everything’s ready,” Ryder said.
This was it. It was happening. He was going to the Shadowlands. Terror flooded his veins, but so did determination. His fear didn’t matter. His sister did. And, Mother, was she going to get a mouthful when he found her. She’d lied too. How could she do this to him? He’d get answers, but first he just wanted to hug her and feel her heart beating, listen to her speaking, or shouting.
He shifted his backpack on his shoulder. “I’m ready,” he said to Ryder.
“I’m begging you both,” Blake said, “please don’t go out there. We can find a way, send a team of Reapers to find her.”
“That won’t happen,” Clay said. “You know that. I know that. No one will run after her but me and Ryder. So just stop, Blake. Just stop.”
“I love you, Clay.”
I love you too. “So you keep saying.”
“Let me come with you.”
“No.”
“Please. I-I can put this right.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“I don’t trust you.” He never thought he’d say that to Blake.
Blake’s hurt transformed his face.
“Clay, please.”
“Save it. I’m done.” He turned to Ryder. “Let’s go.”
“Harness,” Blake said.
“Already covered,” Ryder said. He attached one to Clay and himself.
“Clay!” Blake called.
They entered the hatch and began to climb the ladder as Clay’s heart hammered in his chest.
ASH
As I followed Cal onto a floor I’d never been on before, I was still recovering from sho
ck. Daemon had said yes. I was going to get to Inferna! I should have been ecstatic but I wasn’t. I was scared.
There was this squirmy, dark, fear in the pit of my belly, and I wasn’t sure what frightened me the most: Daemon, or the prospect of going to Inferna. Or, going to Inferna with Daemon. But I wasn’t going to fail at this hurdle, so I did the only thing I could. I trapped that wormy fear in a box and walked through the door Cal held open for me.
I’d learned not to be surprised in this place, but when we walked into a moonlit forest, I couldn’t help myself.
Cal remained in the doorway, keeping the door open. The contrast between the dimly lit hallway beyond and the silver-tinged forest I was standing in was just too strange. I had to look away, pick one place to ground myself in. I picked the forest. It was something out of my dreams. The scents and the moisture in the air, the serenity, the dark, velvety green and brown hues highlighted here and there by the silvery rays of the moon evoked a tug in my chest, a sense of nostalgia I couldn’t understand.
I was about to ask Cal why he’d brought me here when the leaves moved, making a strange swishing sound. The air grew perfectly still and a skittering noise filled the air. I glanced wildly about, trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound, but it was impossible. It was coming from everywhere at once, or at least that’s what it seemed like.
“What’s happening?” I asked Cal.
“Remain still, you’re about to meet Coralee, our garment master.”
I did as he asked and waited.
The skittering grew so near, it was almost upon me. A huge shadow blanketed the ground, and a multi-eyed head appeared.
I screamed and jumped back, and the creature, all spindly legs and fangs, hissed. Clear fluid jetted toward me, and I held up my arm to shield myself. The air moved and the jet never reached me.
“Coralee! Calm. Ashling is our guest.” Cal had blocked the jet, moving inhumanly fast to stand in front of me. I heard a hiss and then a whimper.
