The Spirit Watcher

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The Spirit Watcher Page 20

by Cory Barclay


  Steve snorted. He knew this part: Richard had cheated on his mother with January Amos. January had told him as much. But he didn’t want to bring the benevolent Druid into this, and he surely didn’t want to bring his father into it.

  “You thought I would never understand my power if you stayed away?” Steve asked, not quite believing her. It seemed too simple and naïve.

  “I hoped it would never come to fruition. Yes.”

  “And where did you go?”

  “Here. I met someone who brought me here and I’ve never left. I’ve lived a reclusive life, son, but it’s a life I can live without harming anyone.”

  Steve frowned. “You’ve been in Mythicus for . . . almost twenty years?”

  She smiled weakly. “Not Mythicus, my son. Ethereus.”

  Steve’s eyebrows jumped. “You mean you’ve . . . been trapped in Ethereus for that long?” Annabel had told him stories of people being captives of Ethereus—in a world that shaped people’s minds.

  She was shaking her head. “I came here voluntarily, son. First, yes, I went to Mythicus. I discovered I had no taste for the politics and bureaucracy. It was like Terrus. As I became more powerful and honed my craft, I found myself spending more and more time here. Before long, I was spending all my time here, traveling through the interconnected spirit world of the mind.”

  Steve’s thoughts went blank. “How can that be? And . . . why, mom? Don’t you ever miss your family?”

  “Of course I do,” she said, a bit harshly. “You don’t understand how long I’ve waited for this moment, son. I’ve been watching you. You and your brother both. But I noticed he had no taste for this sort of thing, while you burgeoned into a Mythical champion. I’m proud of you, Steven.” A small smile crept on her face. “What you’ve done for Annabel, for the Vagrant Kinship . . . you are a good man—”

  “No thanks to you,” Steve snapped. A hurt look replaced the proud expression on her face. Steve regretted it immediately.

  “I deserved that,” she said, bowing her head away from him.

  There was an awkward moment of silence, but Steve was determined to move past it. He said, “How do you know about all the things I’ve done here?”

  “Like I said, I’ve been watching you.” She glanced back at him and sighed once more. “I don’t think you understand the scope of my abilities, son. It is partly why I left. I was scared what it might do to you. I can affect people’s lives just by conversing with them. I can shape their dreams and change their fates. It’s why I’ve lived as a hermit, so I would do as little damage as possible.”

  Steve was flabbergasted. How could his mother be so powerful? Where did this all come from? He said, “Then why are you talking to me now?”

  “Because it’s time. I’ve seen the shape of things, and it is not good. The war raging between the Brethren and the Vagrants is a blip on the radar for Mythicus. But even so, Soreltris has become a world stage. The rest of Mythicus is watching, and they disapprove of what the Brethren propose.”

  Steve furrowed his brow. “What do the Brethren propose?”

  “They wish to control Terrus. For centuries the Mythics and humans have lived peacefully, coexisting in separate worlds. The occasional Myth Seeker or Myth Maker would Sear people to and from the different worlds. Besides that, humans and Mythics lived without knowledge of each other. Now, the Brethren have realized the power of the Parallel Reflector. And their intentions are malicious.”

  “You mean dad’s? He’s the one who discovered the Reflector—he’s the one who controls it.”

  She shook her head. “No, Steven, it was you who led the Brethren to understand the power of the mirror. But it is not your fault. And it is not your father of whom I speak. Richard is not long for this world . . .”

  When she trailed off and looked away, Steve tilted his head. “You mean he’s going back to Terrus?”

  “Not exactly . . .” she said in a low voice, trailing off again. “This is something you must deal with on your own, my son. I will speak no more about your father—neither good nor ill.”

  Steve felt the color leave his cheeks. He was afraid of saying the words he knew to be true, regarding his father. So, instead, he changed the subject. “If Mythicus and Terrus are headed for a doomsday collision and all that, why don’t you do something about it? You just said you’re super strong.”

  “Because I am the Spirit Watcher, son. I am not the catalyst of these events—I only chronicle them. I would be afraid of doing more harm than good. My power is not easily contained, and it is not up to me to pick sides.”

  “Though if you did pick sides, it would be the side of humankind?”

  She nodded. “As foolish and faulty as humans are, I do not wish to see them become subjugated by a ruthless, nefarious monarch. Many would die.”

  “Who is the one instigating this subjugation, if not my father?”

  “The new leader of the Brethren. The one you call Jareth Reynolds.”

  Steve stifled a gasp. He should have guessed that fiery bastard would have something to do with this. Who would have thought Jareth would be so much more of a vicious, proactive leader than Richard?

  “Is it too late to do anything?” Steve asked.

  “Of course not. But you must act quickly. I have foreseen the dreamscape of the future and, though it’s webbed, there is a common thread. Humanity will prevail, my son . . . even if it’s not how you like.”

  Steve scoffed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, mom? Your riddles sound like January’s.”

  She narrowed her eyes on her son, the first time she actually looked angry rather than wounded. Steve realized his mistake: it was not wise to mention the woman who caused the fissure between her and Richard.

  Steve faced the ground. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean, and I’m stressed out.”

  Her face became tranquil in an instant. “I know. This all must be very confusing. But when I mention a catalyst—and it isn’t just because you’re my son that I say this—I see the power of change within you. It is why I’m talking to you now, after so many years.”

  “But what can I do?” Steve’s mind started racing again. “From what you’re saying, it seems like I have to choose: save dad, or save Annabel.”

  She shook her head. “That is not the choice at your feet, Steven. I’m afraid those fates have already been decided. No, you must take the Parallel Reflector from Jareth’s hands. Until it is out of his possession, Terrus is not safe. And neither is Mythicus.”

  Steve thought over those words. He wondered what was happening to his father, and why his mother wouldn’t tell him the details. When he glanced at her face, she had a knowing look in her eyes, like she’d read his thoughts but refused to elaborate. He sighed and clenched his jaw, exasperated.

  Seeing the defeated expression on his face, she said, “You have allies, my son. Use them. You have powers. Use them. Use every little advantage at your disposal. You can defeat the Brethren of Soreltris and its leaders. But you must be headstrong. You must decide a course of action and you must attack it with everything you’ve got. Do you understand?”

  For the first time since this dismal conversation had started, Steve felt his heart fill. His mother’s pep talk managed to strike true and he nodded firmly. He didn’t have a plan, or a scheme, but he knew what the outcome must be.

  It seemed like he was the only one who could stand up for humankind in their most dire need. And they didn’t even know about it. There would be no rewards or medals, if he even lived through this . . .

  “Fuck it,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

  The Spirit Watcher smiled. She said, “When this is all over, you will have a final decision to make. I trust it will be a difficult one, but I believe it’s one you can make.”

  Steve squinted, unsure what she meant by that vague sentence.

  She said, “Your time on Mythicus is ending, my son. You must decide where you belong, as I did so many years ago.”
r />   Ah, Steve thought, nodding. Now I understand. I have to choose between living on Mythicus with Annabel or living on Terrus with the rest of my people. I think I’ve always known it would come down to that.

  “Yes,” she said, elaborating on his thoughts. “That is the decision you must make. However . . .” she trailed off and pulled the final piece of her black garb, the veil, over her face, shadowing her from Steve.

  “However?” Steve asked when he’d grown impatient.

  “However, there is also a third option you haven’t taken into consideration . . .”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Steve tried to clear his mind as his group stalked back through the woods. He couldn’t get his mother’s words out of his mind. The “third option” she’d spoken of was a decision he’d have to make alone, so he didn’t relay the message to Aiden or Pua Kila.

  He kept his head down and stayed quiet while the group walked through the woods.

  Aiden said, “So, your ma, huh?”

  Steve nodded.

  “The surprises never stop coming.”

  Steve said nothing. He was aware of a rustling behind him. He stole a glance over his shoulder and saw a bush flutter in the breeze. Except there was no breeze. It was a still, calm night.

  “The wolf-woman is following us,” Pua Kila said without looking back.

  Aiden said, “Your ma probably told her to follow us.”

  “Please don’t call her that,” Steve said quietly.

  Aiden screwed up his face. “Why not? That’s what she is, mate. Don’t deny her that much, at least.”

  “Because I’m trying to keep things straight in my mind. It makes it difficult when you refer to her as my ‘ma.’ Just call her the Spirit Watcher, please, for my sake.”

  Aiden shrugged. “Suit yourself, lad.”

  The group headed through the forest the same way they’d come, through a well-traveled path. Every once in a while they had to veer off course to avoid hiking up a hill, or to move around a large boulder. For the most part, they kept a simple westerly path toward the Lee household.

  Steve hoped with all his heart that Annabel would be there, like she’d promised. He still couldn’t believe he’d allowed her to separate from him once he’d gone through the Parallel Reflector. He had been so close to her, but she’d slipped through his grasp once again. A small part of him knew it wasn’t his decision to make—she’d needed to make sure her family was okay. But the majority of him felt like an idiot.

  A dry leaf crackled under his feet. A plan was formulating in his mind and he tugged at the skin under his chin.

  Aiden gave him a sidelong glance. “What’s on your mind?”

  “The Spirit Watcher made it clear: we’re on a serious timetable here. Jareth could send blackguards to Terrus at any minute—if he hasn’t already. The medieval terror of those bastards could be on the ten o’clock news tonight, for all we know.”

  Aiden scratched his cheek. “What can we do about it?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking about, Aiden. A plan.”

  Steve stared ahead at Pua Kila’s muscled back. The Nawao queen ducked underneath a low branch and disappeared into the darkness. She moved methodically, deliberately, like she was afraid of waking up the trees.

  “Pua Kila,” Steve called out in a low voice.

  “Yes, Koa Steve?” she answered back, but didn’t turn. Her warriors kept pace behind Steve and Aiden. A few stragglers held the reins of their eight horses.

  “You’ve been to Aiden’s house,” Steve said. When she did not reply, he added, “So you know the way.”

  “Indeed,” Pua Kila said.

  “I want you to go there.” Steve opened his mouth to keep talking, but then closed it. “Please.”

  Pua Kila stopped in her tracks. She stood upright and the rest of the contingent stopped with her. When she turned around to face Steve, half of her face was covered in darkness, while the moon lit the other half. It gave her a menacing appearance.

  “When?” she asked.

  “Now, preferably,” Steve said.

  “Why?”

  “I want you to retrieve our friends.” Before she could ask any other “W” questions, he said, “With your warriors and the horses, you should be able to carry the loot from the house.”

  “What loot?” she asked, a “W” question Steve hadn’t thought to answer.

  “Gold,” Aiden said, stepping forward. A grin flashed on his face. “This is a good idea.”

  Pua Kila looked from Steve to Aiden. “I don’t understand.”

  Steve pointed past her. “I know the way back to the Lee house from here,” he said, glancing around at the dark trees and foliage. He didn’t know if he was correct, but there was only one way to find out. “I’ve been through here before, if you remember, through Lig’s eyes.”

  Pua Kila was nodding, but she seemed apprehensive.

  “What’s the problem?” Steve asked when she’d stayed quiet for too long.

  Folding her arms over her chest, Pua Kila said, “Can you not dream-leap to your allies and beckon them?”

  Steve said, “Yes, and I plan to.” He raised his pointer finger. “But they don’t know the way here.” He raised his middle finger. “They don’t have packhorses to carry the money we need.” He raised his ring finger. “And they don’t have protection.”

  Pua Kila nodded again, this time a bit more firmly. “Very well,” she said, “I will do it, Koa Steve. ”

  “Thank you,” he said, bowing his head slightly.

  “But tell me,” she said, “why do you need so much gold?”

  Steve poked his temple. “It’s part of the plan I’m brewing up here.”

  Pua Kila smiled.

  “When can we expect you at the Lee household?” Steve asked.

  Pua Kila turned and peered through the woods. Her head bobbed from side to side. Then she came to a decision.

  “From this distance . . . locating them, packing the items, traveling back . . . we’ll have to travel under cover to avoid any blackguards or scouts.” She continued bobbing her head, negotiating with herself. Then her faraway eyes cleared and she turned to Steve. “You can expect us to return by tomorrow evening, or the morning after at the latest.”

  “Perfect,” Steve said. He knew he needed time to drum up his plan anyway. It would take quite a bit of convincing, but he was hopeful he’d be able to finagle it.

  All it would take were three people who hated him—Constantin Lee, Geddon, and Selestria—to work with him.

  “JESUS, STEVE-O, YOU gotta stop doing that!” Dale bellowed, almost falling off his chair.

  “I swear you haven’t moved since I last saw you,” Steve said, shaking his head. He stood in Aiden’s library, again, as Dale flipped through a picture spellbook, again.

  Dale shrugged. “You said you’d be here by now, but judging by your creepy, incognito approach, I’m guessing you’re not.”

  Steve shook his head.

  “So, you’re a ghost again?”

  Steve shook his head again. Ignoring that question, he said, “Someone else is coming for you, though.”

  Dale slammed the book shut and brought it up to his chest. His face was a picture of abject terror.

  Steve pressed his palms out. “Don’t worry, man, they’re friends. You won’t be murdered.”

  Dale let the book fall to his lap. He stood up and threw the book down on the chair. He walked out of the library and Steve followed him. They walked down a lavish hallway, over a red carpet, and came into the marble-tiled kitchen.

  Shepherd and Scarlet were standing in the kitchen, their faces mere inches apart. Shepherd said something and Scarlet giggled. She leaned forward and stole a kiss from the rugged, former blackguard.

  Shepherd had let his graying beard grow in the time since Steve had last seen him. He looked even more homeless than before, if that was possible. But his bushy hair wasn’t as unkempt as before, so it seemed he’d at least showered.

>   In fact, both his and Scarlet’s hair were wet.

  Steve guessed the succubus and blackguard had enjoyed a recent bath together. My, how close they’ve become in such a short time, he thought.

  “I know,” Dale said with a chuckle, intercepting Steve’s inner monologue.

  At the sound of his voice, Scarlet and Shepherd spun around. The succubus pushed herself away from the blackguard. She looked legitimately surprised to see Dale.

  “You’ve emerged from your lair,” Scarlet said, frowning. “Come for more mead?”

  “I think I finished it off earlier today,” Dale said.

  “Who were you talking to?” Shepherd asked, arching a single eyebrow. “I hope you’re not talking to yourself.”

  “No, Shep, I’ll leave the solo dialoguing to you, my friend.”

  Shepherd frowned.

  Dale ignored the man’s offended expression and turned to Steve, who stood in the doorway. “Steve’s here,” Dale announced with a smile.

  Shepherd and Scarlet both squinted and looked past Dale.

  “Where?” Scarlet asked.

  Steve said, “I’m in your Ethereus plane, Fats, not theirs. They can’t see me unless I allow them to—or unless they’re skilled in the ways of dream-leaping.”

  Dale scoffed and air-quoted: “The ways of dream-leaping. Jesus, man, you sound like Bruce Lee or something. Have you become the water?”

  Steve furrowed his brow. He didn’t know what Dale meant by that, and he was taken aback that Dale would respond so ruthlessly. He realized Dale was probably angrier at him than he was letting on, for abandoning him at Aiden’s house.

  “Ask him what the hell is taking him so long,” Shepherd said.

  “Pua Kila will be there by the morning,” Steve said. “She’ll be with Nawao warriors to protect you, and horses to carry the gold. Do you have it all packed?”

  “Of course,” Dale said. “It’s been packed since we got here. Why aren’t you coming with her?”

  “I have other things I need to do, man. Plans that need to be set into motion. That sort of thing.”

 

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