by Ann Aguirre
I had to trust in Shannon and her gift. It was damn hard, even for a believer like me. Now I knew how other people must feel when I presented them with some inexplicable truth from touching their father’s pocket watch.
The unnatural cold sank into my very bones, making my joints ache. Only the fingers of my right hand contained any heat, still burning from their immersion in the soil. Pain accompanied that warmth, of course, but everything had its price.
Gradually, the ground sloped downward, leading toward a deep gully. I knew what we’d find at the bottom, but we climbed down nonetheless. The radio popped and hissed, revealing Rob’s agitation as we grew closer.
Overhead, the trees grew tight overhead, giving the gorge a bizarre greenish hue reminiscent of corpse flesh. My companions looked sick and strange in the primeval half-light. I braced myself for the smell I associated with dead bodies, but I detected only the dank vegetation surrounding us.
“Here.” The distant voice crackled from the radio, telling us we’d reached our destination.
The rest would be up to us.
At first I didn’t find what we were looking for, as dead leaves littered the forest floor. Shannon knelt, then brushed away some of the desiccated kudzu shroud, and I saw the pallid glimmer of bone. The rest of us joined her in uncovering his final resting place.
A hush fell as we worked, different than the eerie stillness signifying the absence of all life. This silence felt reverent. I’d been wrong, though. We couldn’t tell how this kid died. Thanks to scavengers and insects, there was nothing left but his skeleton.
We backed off so Jesse could take a look. Among all of us, he had the most expertise. He spent a few moments studying the remains, and then glanced up with a regretful shake of his head.
“Based on his posture, I’d say the kid died from a fall,” he said, pointing to damage on the skull. “To me it looks like he dashed his head on the way down, but I’m just guessing. It would take someone more skilled than me to be sure.”
I exchanged a wry look with Jesse. The chances of Kilmer possessing a bona fide forensics expert were less than the possibility of my morphing into a six-foot supermodel. I hadn’t expected this, but I guess I should have. A year was a long time for a body to lie exposed.
“We could try asking him,” Chance offered.
Shannon didn’t look eager, but she said, “Rob, do you remember what happened? How you—”
“Died?” the spirit filled in. “I was running. Scared. That’s all I know.” The radio popped with his frustration.
“What now?” Shannon sounded anxious. “I promised we’d get him out.”
Would a blessing and a proper burial be enough to usher his spirit where it needed to go? I wished Chuch were here; he might know. I made a mental note to call him when we got back to the house.
“We will,” Chance said, reassuring her. “We just have to decide the best way to go about it.”
Saldana rummaged through his backpack, cursing beneath his breath. “I wish I had flags,” he muttered. “We need to mark the site somehow.”
“Was anyone paying attention to the route we took?” I asked.
“I was,” Jesse answered. “I can get us back here again. But maybe . . .” He pulled out his cell phone and tried about six different angles before pocketing it with a huff of disgust. “Nothing,” he growled. “What the hell is wrong with this place?”
I really wished I knew. Or rather, I knew what was wrong, but I wished I knew why.
It went without saying that Shannon couldn’t use her radio trick once we’d notified the authorities. The girl didn’t want to leave, but we had to get Sheriff Robinson out here somehow. We couldn’t scoop up the bones and deliver them to Rob’s family. With our reputation, that would be the last straw.
Shadows curled around my peripheral vision. My skin prickled with awareness of the otherness that chased Jesse and me all the way to the forest edge. It was here now.
Eager as I was to get out of these woods, I suspected that if we walked away now, Rob’s remains would disappear in a malicious game of hide-and-seek. There’d be nothing to show for the sheriff’s trouble, making him unlikely to believe us ever again. We might need his goodwill down the line. Of course, I could only gauge our moves by Jesse’s impression that Sheriff Robinson was scared, not a conspirator.
“I’ll stay,” I said quietly. “It seems quiet enough right here. It won’t take you more than three or four hours to get back.”
I expected an argument, but instead, Chance said, “Not by yourself. We can break into teams. Jesse knows the way back, and Shannon knows the town, so they should go. I’ll stay with you.”
He clearly intended to fight whatever might be coming for us, even if he didn’t have his luck. I wasn’t sure what lived in the woods could be combated with fists or feet. No point in saying so, however; Chance hadn’t been here with Jesse and me, so he didn’t know how it felt.
Jesse hesitated, obviously remembering our previous ordeal. “I don’t like it,” he finally said. “But it makes sense. We need a cover story.”
“We were hiking,” I suggested, kicking my backpack. “And we came across the body.”
Coincidental, sure, but as concerned citizens, we just wanted to make sure the poor kid got a proper burial. We might even get some good press out of this.
“And I knew he was missing,” Shannon put in. “So I figured it must be Rob, and”—she bent down, checking something—“I confirmed it with his class ring.”
“Well done.” Jesse looked seriously impressed.
“You should go tell Rob’s mother first,” Chance suggested. “If she goes with you to see the sheriff, he won’t be able to say no.”
I agreed with that too.
Jesse took me aside, a good thirty yards away and behind some trees. He grasped my forearms in his big hands. His palms slid up and down as if chafing me to keep warm. “If anything goes wrong, Corine, I’ll know. We’ll come back. But damn, I don’t want you doing this.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “If it wanted to hurt me, it would have before.”
I didn’t completely believe it, but he needed to hear it in order to walk away. Jesse kissed my forehead and my cheeks, and then he brushed my lips with his, as if in benediction. His touch sent a sweet little shock through me, and then we rejoined the others. Chance gave me a cool, measuring look.
A whispery echo spilled out of the radio, making me jump. I’d forgotten about Rob’s spirit. “Thanks, Shannon. Will you tell my mom I love her and . . . I’m sorry?”
I never knew regret could have a scent until that moment, but it spilled from the ghost like burnt almonds. So many opportunities lost, possibilities denied, and for what? He probably didn’t even remember if he’d had fun sneaking off in the woods to drink cheap liquor with his classmates.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
But she would couch his words in ways a regular person could comprehend. I’m sure Rob loves you and he’s sorry you were worried, but he’s in a better place now. I’m so glad I could give you closure. Such normal condolences and comforts could hide the reality of who we were and what we could do. I totally understood her bleak look and gave her a brief hug to show I did.
All too soon, Shannon and Jesse took off, leaving Chance and me alone in the woods.
Burning Visions
Chance and I sat at either side of what had been Robert Walker, aged seventeen.
The bones lay between us.
I stared at them, blind and unseeing, until something occurred to me. Though they had once supported life, these were inanimate now. Maybe we could find out what had happened to Rob Walker without a forensic team. My sore fingers flexed. If I did this, I’d have to use my left hand.
Did I really want to cripple myself? Well, if we could do some good with the information, then yeah, I’d risk it.
Chance followed my gaze with his, and I saw the exact moment he realized what I meant to do. He reached for my wris
t too late. My left hand made contact with the bones.
There was nothing, not even a small shock of pain. I felt only the cool and pitted surface where scavengers had gnawed. Surprise washed over me.
“There was nobody to imprint them,” Chance guessed, as I drew my hand away. “The occasional nibble of wild animals wouldn’t do it.”
I conceded that with a nod. “I should have thought of that.”
“Truthfully,” Chance said, “I’m glad it didn’t work.”
“Truthfully?” I repeated. “Me too.”
It felt oddly like we were keeping vigil for Rob. There were no candles or holy words, but the intent remained. He’d been out here alone too long. I wondered—could he see us or sense us? I already knew he couldn’t hear anyone but Shannon. Was that all that awaited us? A lonely afterlife filled with tormenting glimpses of the living?
A heavy, sorrowful feeling came over me, too much work to move. From that point, I must have daydreamed. I didn’t think I had spoken to Chance in a while. He seemed to be feeling that same pressure, as if it would be easier just to topple over.
Lethargy trickled through me, weighting my limbs with lead. So tired. I wanted to curl up on my side and go to sleep. Through layers of exhaustion, I knew a spike of alarm. This wasn’t like me. I wouldn’t doze off in the middle of a scary wood. Nearly too late, I recognized the swirling darkness around us, deeper and darker than any shadow.
It carried with it the faint scent of decay and decomposition, not of meat, but of vegetation. The smell was pungent, but not revolting. I breathed it in, feeling dizzy. I forced my eyes open—or thought I did—but I couldn’t seem to move. Fear slalomed through me like an Olympic event. The heaviness all around us increased.
Shit, we hadn’t accomplished anything at all by staying. It would devour the bones and this time, us too. The futility enraged me; I couldn’t even turn my head to see if Chance was all right. If anything happened to him because he’d wanted to protect me . . . damn. I should have insisted he go with the others. He was helpless without his luck, and I should have thought of that.
“What do you want?” I managed to push the words past numb lips.
Tendrils so cold they burnt brushed my lips and cheeks in an unholy caress. I couldn’t sense malice in the touch, but I was damn near freezing to death. It was possible my brain no longer functioned at peak efficiency.
“This is my dominion, darling child.”
With an inward shudder, I recognized the voice from the last time. Any last shred of uncertainty dissolved. I imagined a certain cloying fondness in the endearment it spoke, and I remembered the dark thing had claimed to know my mother.
“I was granted this territory in a pact I have honored even when others have not. So what do I want? I want redress.”
Pact. The word resonated, lending unmistakable significance. It confirmed what I half suspected when first we discovered Chance’s luck didn’t work here.
“Who made the pact?” As the dark mist roiled away from me, it grew easier to speak. I even managed to turn my head, but Chance seemed to be asleep. I told myself not to make any sudden moves. This thing might take pleasure in talking to me—and then it might decide it would enjoy rending me limb from limb. Best not to provoke it.
“The twelve,” it said, “long since gone to dust.”
If they’d long since gone to dust, how did they manage to burn down our house? I wouldn’t start with that, though. Part of me couldn’t believe I was sitting there, talking to the thing, but I didn’t have much choice. Though I could speak and turn my head, I still couldn’t get up. Certainly I couldn’t run, not with Chance comatose.
Since it seemed to be in an expansive mood—and who knew how long that would last—I asked the obvious question. “Why did you have my mother’s necklace?”
Icy phantom fingers lingered at my throat. I imagined it tracing the curls and curves of the flower pentacle and tried to suppress a shiver.
“I was fond of her,” it answered at length. “I had a forest creature bring it to me. I kept it for you. . . . I remember you, darling child. She asked me to keep you safe.”
She asked. It could only mean Cherie Solomon, my mother.
Demons lied. It was what they did. So I don’t know why the words rocked me so much. I should have been able to shake them off, dismiss them as false. Instead, they ate into my psyche. Perhaps it was because I’d recently seen how little Chance knew his own mother. No matter how much we loved, how could we ever truly know anyone else’s heart?
“How . . .” I cleared my throat and started again. “How did you know her?”
“She left gifts sometimes. She knew I was lonely.” The earth itself shivered a little with the last word.
Could that be true? Had my mother been kind enough even to take pity on an exiled demon? Well, exiled or bound. It said it was granted these woods as its territory, but in exchange for what? What were the terms of the agreement? If I thought it would answer honestly, I might ask.
Instead, I asked something that had been bugging me. “How come you let us go before?”
“Darling child, I would never harm you.”
Huh? “Why not?”
Its amusement rippled all around me. “Have you not guessed? Hadn’t you noticed the hell fire that powers your rather unusual gift?”
Oh, Jesus. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like this.
“Corine . . . I am your father.”
“Bullshit!” I might not remember much about Albie Solomon, but I was sure he hadn’t been a demon. Maybe he couldn’t put up with being tied down or my mother’s eccentricities, but he hadn’t possessed a drop of infernal blood. I’d stake my soul on it.
Well, maybe not literally . . .
“Kidding. I’m kidding. I always wanted to say that.” To my astonishment, the dark mist coalesced into the shape of a small man, not much taller than me. He hunkered down next to me. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. “Between you and me, little one, I get tired of the whole I-will-devour-your-soul routine. Sure, I feed off the visceral terror, but where’s the spontaneity, you know?”
“Uh, right,” I said. “So what’s your name?”
He answered scornfully, “Do you think I was summoned yesterday? First I give you my name and we’re talking and having a good time; then you bind me to something worse than this forest. Forget it. You can call me Maury.”
I stifled a laugh. “Okay then, Maury. Did you kill this kid?”
The demon seemed affronted. “Certainly not.”
I raised a brow, waiting. Maybe that was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. I knew enough about demons to be sure they told you whatever they thought you wanted to hear.
“He might’ve been fleeing from me in fear,” the demon admitted, after a lengthy pause, “but the fall killed him.”
Semantics. No wonder attorneys and demons got along so well.
In quasi-human form, the bane of my existence was short and dumpy, a little round about the middle. He had bushy salt-and-pepper hair and robust sideburns. The demon could’ve easily been someone’s uncle. And I realized I wasn’t scared anymore, not even a little bit. That could’ve been a failure of some self-preservation instinct, but I was inclined to believe the thing didn’t mean me any harm.
I just didn’t know why.
“Seriously, why aren’t you terrorizing me?”
He looked at me in disgust. “Because I don’t want you to die.”
“But why?”
“You’re my ticket to freedom,” he said.
Direct questioning didn’t seem to be getting me anywhere, so I tried another tack. “Who were the twelve?”
“The ones who summoned me.”
“How long ago was that?”
Maury shrugged. “How would I know? I spend my time in a forest. Do you see a clock out here?”
“Corine!” Booke’s voice boomed out of nowhere.
That was my first clue I wasn’t awake. “What are you
doing here?”
Our contact in the UK came toward me through the woods. “I don’t think you should be here with me right now,” he told me. I remembered he’d said he could find me anywhere in the world. “And it doesn’t feel like real sleep; something’s wrong with it.”
He touched my cheek gently—
—and I snapped awake.
Chance cradled me close, his face livid with worry. “Are you all right? You’ve been out for ages.”
“Cold,” I managed to whisper.
Damn, was I ever. For the second time that day, I found myself lying in the dirt, this time on a bed of decomposing leaves, next to a pile of bones. But at least I had Chance underneath me. I gazed up the heavy lattice of tree limbs overhead and couldn’t tell how long I’d been out. Butch whined and licked my cheek.
“All right, I’ve got you,” he murmured. He took my hand between both of his, chafing the skin. I could hardly feel it at all.
“Talked to a demon named Maury.” Or had I dreamed that? Had I dreamed about Booke saving me? I licked my lips and my tongue stuck. It took me a couple tries to get out, “It must’ve been a nightmare for you. I’m sorry.”
No working phone. No luck. I couldn’t imagine his fear.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Here, drink a little.” Chance held a water bottle to my mouth, and my throat ached as I swallowed. “Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes. Tell me about this demon. Did you really say Maury?” From his tone he was humoring me.
I refused on principle to answer questions when I knew he didn’t believe me. I tried to struggle upright.
“I’m better; fine, in fact. What time is it?”
Before he could answer, I heard the crunch of footsteps. Thank God—the cavalry had arrived at last.
When Sheriff Robinson, Jesse, Shannon, and three people I didn’t know strode down the slope and into the gully, I’d never been so happy to see other human beings in my life. Mrs. Walker had insisted on coming along with Sheriff Robinson and the two men he’d drafted to accompany him. When the woman recognized his class ring, as Shannon had, she sank down on her knees and wept.
