by Ron C. Nieto
“And where exactly do we want her to fly again?”
“The otherworld. Hell. Reincarnation even. It's not as if I care, as long as it is far, far away. She won't be able to kill you if she's no longer in this world.”
The two girls stared at each other for a moment longer and finally Lena nodded. “Okay. Okay, let's suppose you're right. What do we do next?”
“Find the strings,” I said. “Destroy them.”
“String number one is that snow globe,” Lena said. “Let's have it.”
“You realize we're on school grounds, within sight of nearly every possible window, and with a bare few minutes to spare before tardy, right?” I gave her a dubious look.
“Killing. Ghost. The teachers and their grades can stuff it.”
Spoken like a girl who had no cares for scholarships.
“I hope this works.”
Alice placed the globe on the sidewalk and stepped back. Then, they both stared at me. I considered turning away for a split second, then picked it back up and smashed it against the sidewalk with the best swing I could manage—which, admittedly, wasn't that great. It got the job done, though. The glass fragments scattered like shrapnel, the delicate buildings of Victorian London were brutally demolished, and the fake snow became a sad slush wetting the concrete. Only the base remained in one piece, the engraving on the sidewalks barely visible anymore.
“Is that enough?” Alice asked, coming closer and stepping on crunchy, broken glass on the way.
“I don't think so. We should destroy the base too. Burn it.”
“We can use my house, I guess,” Lena relented. “Since it's empty.”
I didn't relish the chance to spend another evening with her, but her offer made sense. I had no fireplace, and while Alice did, I couldn't imagine explaining to her parents why we were burning the remains of their family memorabilia.
“You hold on to it till then,” I said, tossing her the base. She gave an indignant huff and juggled for a moment to catch it, and when I turned to go back into the building, I couldn't hold in the small smirk that pulled my lips.
Childish? Perhaps. Still fun, though.
Chapter 22
Who would've thought that going home by car instead of walking in the cold of January, flanked by the two most popular girls of school, one of which happened to be my girlfriend, would feel so much like the proverbial Corridor of Doom? I never minded the contemptuous looks, even the occasional insult thrown my way, but dealing with this level of attention? Worse, dealing with this mix of jealousy, confusion and curiosity aimed my way? That's what I wasn't ready for. It came too close to intruding on my personal life.
We boarded Lena's Cabrio before the bulk of the population got a chance to see us, but I was sure that the video proof of the event was hitting YouTube by the time we hit the road to Lena's exclusive development.
“When are you parents returning?” Alice asked the thick silence in the car.
“My father will be back in a couple of days.” She said nothing about her mother and I exchanged a glance with Alice.
It was kind of sad that she was so alone, really. Not just her family, but also her friends, who hung out with her just for who she was. At the end of the day, Lena was as alone as I had been before Alice walked into my life, and part of me wanted to wish her a happy ending, a chance to meet someone truly outstanding who would change her outlook in life. A larger part of me remembered what she'd been willing to do to save herself and shrugged, figuring that if she deserved happiness after that, she'd eventually get it.
When we got to her place, we spilled out of the car and headed straight for the living room, presided by the huge fireplace. We hadn't seen this room the day before. The conversation had taken place in the kitchen, and it had been a straight route from there to the guest room, but seeing it now, I understood Lena a bit better.
It was the kind of home that stares you straight out of a magazine but refuses to let you live in it. When I went to Alice's for the first time, it shocked me as an upstart, elegant place. The kind of place people with money would call their own. Lena's, however, was overstated, painfully so. Not only did it not invite you to sit and relax, it most sternly forbade you even think about it. No wonder the sterile place and broken family had produced something slightly rotten. And she'd had a curse to deal with on top of everything else.
“Don't get mud in the upholstery,” she said just then, ruining the sympathy that struggled to be felt. Did she think we'd climb the couches and jump around like monkeys? “And get the fire started while I drop my things.”
She left us, and Alice and I stared at each other and at the fireplace. A pane of wrought iron and thick glass protected it and it looked unused. A small pile of wood rested to the left, along with very clean, very organized fire-tending instruments with bronze inlays.
“You've done this before, right?”
Alice shook her head. “Fire's my dad's domain. I've watched him, though.”
I dropped my backpack, making sure to do so on the floor and avoiding any carpet, and took off my jacket. “Well, you can give the instructions then.”
“Sure. Just... pile the wood in and toss a match or something.”
She gave me a hapless look. I sighed, pulled up the sleeves of my tee and got to work.
It turns out fireplaces are complex things. You think there's nothing but the fire, but then there's the flue too. There's all kinds of filters up there, and then there's the cap to keep birds and rain from falling in. If you don't make sure it's all open and the ventilation's good before you even try to start the fire, unpleasant things might happen.
Like sinking whole designer living rooms of white leather and aluminum into a sea of smoke thick enough to hide whatever sat more than two feet away.
I'm pretty sure Lena was having fits, which I'd bet was giving Alice fits in turn. One ran around blindly, opening windows and closing doors; the other twitched, curled up in a loveseat and trying very hard not to laugh. I would've been all for the curling and laughing, but I was bent over the fire, which for the moment produced more smoke than actual flame, trying to coerce tiny flames into licking at the firewood and not at my face, hair, or surroundings.
“Someone's going to call 911 if you don't control the smoke, idiot!” Lena fussed. “You're making more smoke than a friggin' steam ship!”
There it was. “Friggin'” again. I smirked.
“I did ask you if you knew how to do this any better, remember? Don't complain now because your firewood isn't taking.”
“Maybe it was fake firewood. To look nice and cozy, you know?” Alice snickered. “Maybe there's this much smoke because we're trying to make a polyamide bonfire.”
“Polyamide? Instead of spending your energy trying to come up with cool words, you could try and help with this,” Lena barked.
“Okay.” Alice sighed. “I'll take one for the team. Here, burn this and see if that encourages your fake firewood to get going.”
She gave me a bundle of papers and I held them to the fire without thinking. Funny as it was to smoke our new frenemy out of her house, it was true that sooner or later someone would get worried and come to ask what was going on—or why the fire department wasn't here already.
The paper caught and I let it fall in the fireplace when the flames nearly licked my fingers. I did the same with another small bundle, and with another. Soon, the firewood, synthetic or not, was surrounded by an inferno of dancing fire and, slowly but surely, the logs began to give in to the flames.
I turned to Alice with a smirk. “You knew how to do this.”
“No, I promise. It just seemed like a smarter idea than trying to get a log to take fire with a match.”
“Sure,” I said, standing up for a quick kiss. I didn't care if she'd been amused by my attempts or truly inspired at the last moment, not when she smiled like that for me.
“Hello, I'm here! Get a room or something, bu
t do it later because we've work to do now.”
“You can't even see us with all the fumes hanging around,” I muttered.
“But I can hear you!” she said, making kissy noises.
“Uh, whatever. Bring the piece of snow globe, will you?”
She did. I have a feeling she wanted to toss it to me, just like I had done to her, but she didn't dare risk her house's trinkets, mirrors and glass surfaces, so she had to settle for tossing it into the fireplace.
It crackled. The flames spit and roared, but I think that was more the sound of really old wood, pigments, and varnish rather than the agonizing screams of any particular ghost. The circular base caught fire, splintered, and charred until there was nothing left but ashes and smoke and flames.
Just in case, we let it burn a bit longer until the logs were consumed and the fire died out by itself.
Nothing felt different.
It was rather anticlimactic.
“Do you feel any new juju?” Alice asked.
“No, not really,” Lena said after a moment. “What do you think I am anyway, a ghost speaker?”
“I don't know, just the only one here who is supposed to have gotten an education on dealing with your murdering great-grandma?” With a huff, Alice bent down to pick her stuff and started walking for the door. I followed close behind, wondering if we'd have to walk back home or would hitch a ride, and then it hit me.
It wasn't a metaphor. The notes hit me like a brick wall, faint and too high-pitched, but grating my nerves and setting my skin on fire. The smoke had time to clear out, but as I pitched down I saw tendrils that refused to dissipate. They hid in the corners, swirling around the legs of chairs and tables, not strong enough to show anything but the furious whirlwind of emotion the voice hummed.
“Keith!” Alice was by my side in a rush, but I heard her as if coming across a veil, somewhere so far away her voice could barely reach me. The plaintive notes drowned everything else.
Reaching out, I grasped Alice's hand, letting her know that I was fine, that I was still there. Then, instead of fleeing, I focused on the sound.
There was... hope, somewhere. And tenderness and kindness intertwined with fear and pain and rage. I could tell what the song had been, but it was no more and I had to laugh.
“He's gone off the deep end now,” Lena said, closer than I expected her to be.
I shook my head. “No, I haven't... But she nearly has.”
Alice stiffened, her arms tightening around my shoulders. “She's here?”
I nodded and she looked around, even though she couldn't see anything. It seemed like she couldn't hear anything either, but she believed me.
“It's fine,” I said. “It works.”
“So that was a desperate ditch attempt to... what? Suck out your soul again?”
“I think... I think she was just lashing out. Not trying to do anything, because she can't touch either of us, but getting really mad.”
“Of course she can touch us,” Lena said.
“No, she can't,” I insisted. “Alice is linked to this, and while I don't exactly understand how, that keeps her safe. If not, she'd have killed her when she had the chance. And I've already seen through her song, so she can't affect me anymore.”
“She can attack me.”
She had a point.
“She won't,” I said at last, getting up and dusting off my pants. “She might have a backup plan, but it'd be risky. She won't attack you until you're a real threat.”
“When will that be?”
I'm pretty sure it was a rhetoric question. I told her anyway. “Maybe tomorrow. You need to talk with the Nightrays' trust, see what else could be acting as an anchor.”
“What?” Her eyes bulged. “What are we going to tell him? If he's on her side...”
“I'm sure you'll figure something out.”
Alice and I made it all the way to the front door.
“Wait, I'll give you a ride.” It didn't look like she wanted to. Right at that moment, we probably weren't her favorite people and she saw no reason to hide it, but I think she was more scared of staying behind with an angry ghost than she was mad at us.
Just as well. There was plenty of reason to be scared, after all.
Chapter 23
Lena dropped both of us in front of Alice's place. Sparrow was waiting for us, sitting on the front porch, and Alice's jaw dropped open.
“I swear I left him locked up in room. How does he do that?”
“Don't have an answer, not sure I'd want one anyway,” I said, turning my back on the cat to look her in the eye. “Hey.”
“Yeah?” Her hands came to rest at my shoulders; mine encircled her waist. There was a measure of comfort in the physical contact, a feeling of belonging and an assurance that everything would work out all right wrapped into one.
“There're more pieces out there, and she's only going to get angrier. What if I'm wrong?” I looked her in the eye to show her how much I worried about this fact.
“About me being able to dispel her?” Alice's fingers trembled a bit on my shoulders.
“About her not being able to touch you.”
“That's a risk, I guess. There's not much we know for sure. But I think you're right. That night when you were playing for her?” The memory made her shiver and I shifted our casual stance to a closer embrace. “She'd have killed me then if she'd been able to. I'm sure of that. But you protected me. So if something goes wrong again, well, you'll be there once more.”
I frowned slightly. I recalled that night, sometimes with a little too much detail. I remembered the fear, the brutal pain searing my chest, and drowning me in fire. Then, I remembered Alice coming for me, and me playing on, and then her lips on mine and Beatrice slowly, slowly fading out.
“You protected me,” I whispered into her hair.
She shook her head. “She tried to get to me, but she couldn't because you were there. It was like...” She fumbled for words, finding trouble expressing what the moment had been all about. “Like this cocoon she couldn't break wrapped all around me. And that was you. Because...” She pushed off my chest and ran her hands through her hair, fussing with her bangs. “I'm not saying it right. But trust me, I know how it happened.”
Perhaps she did, but her words made me wonder. I didn't recall doing anything to protect her, not specifically. But it was true that the sole reason I had gone to play the song that night in the abandoned house was because I thought it'd get the damn ghost to move on to the next thing and then it would leave Alice alone. So, in a way, I had played to protect her, and I had done so because I'd fallen in love with her.
I almost had an idea, but it kept dancing out of reach. Emotion was clearly the key to this particular ghost. It was what created it. It would be what destroyed it. Could it also be what shielded against it?
My cell rang just then and both of us jumped out of our skin. It was starting to get late, so I picked it up, thinking Lena found out something new or ran into an issue in her very haunted, very creepy, very rich house.
“Hey, kid, I want you over tomorrow for a test recording,” a male voice said.
“Ah... What?” That was the best I could manage under the circumstances.
“It's Stuart,” he clarified, even though I had managed to guess that much. “You. Here. Tomorrow. Record.”
“I've got class tomorrow,” I said, not caring much for the commands nor for the lack of respect behind them.
“So come after class. I don't care.”
“There's a pretty long bus ride, I'll get there late.”
“Did you get my first ‘I don't care,' kid? Just get your ass over here and bring your guitar.”
“Okay,” I said. It was bad timing, but if I had to be completely honest, since the visit to the studio had rendered my hopes of living off my music slightly more tangible, I wasn't in such a hurry to ditch the rocker life for a stable accounting job. “I'll be th
ere. Do I need to prepare anything in particular?”
“No.” And he hung up.
“What was that?” Alice asked when I pulled the cell away from my ear and stared at it quizzically.
“I was wondering just that myself. It looked like a studio booking, though.”
“That's amazing!” she said, promptly jumping me for a congratulations hug.
“We're kind of busy with other stuff right now,” I began, but she cut me off with a noisy kiss on the cheek followed by a quick peck.
“Don't be ridiculous. The other stuff will be taken care of this week, but your career will last your whole life. Go there and give them your best!”
I laughed. She was right. And, damn it, I wanted to feel good about something.
“Not sure I'll be able to,” I said, cutting her off when she went to protest. “Think you can come for inspiration?”
“Absolutely. I'll be there.” She grinned so full of life and so happy for me that I just had to kiss her, a longer, lingering one this time.
I had missed spending time with her like this, not just like friends at school, and certainly not just like a couple of investigators racing to uncover some stupid mystery over a century old that kept killing people around us. I missed the “couple” part: the lazy walks, the soft touches and the tenderness behind unhurried kisses, without anything else to worry about.
Just like this.
The lights on her front porch came on, then off, then on and off again up to five times. With a groan, I let her go and stepped back.
“Hi, Dad!” Alice called over my shoulders.
I pondered whether the earth would be kind enough to open up right about that moment, but it didn't.
“Hi, Mr. Thorne.” I offered a small wave and the man gave me a stern nod back.
I counted it as a victory. It wasn't a physical threat, and he hadn't fetched a shotgun yet.
