Path of the Heretic (The Beholder Book 2)

by Ivan Amberlake

  Debbie bit her lip, trying to believe him. She was thankful to have Tyler by her side, the one who could hug her and make all her tension go away. They got up, and she stepped to him and pressed herself into his strong chest, enjoying the steady sound of his heartbeat. Somehow, its unhurried thumping pacified her. She closed her eyes, concentrating on that sound alone.

  Alexei brushed the floor with his boot and then toed a little stone. “I don’t think he’ll come,” he said.

  Debbie turned to him, waiting for the explanation.

  “I just don’t see him coming here,” he went on.

  “Is he stuck?” Violet asked.

  “You can’t get stuck in a tunnel,” Tyler said. “It always takes you somewhere. Apparently, he’s been sent to a different location, but I don’t see why.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Matt erupted in rage. “You’re a Sighted. You have to do something.” He pointed a finger at Tyler. “Get Jason out of there!”

  “Matt, stop it!” Debbie hushed him, standing between the two men.

  “No, wait, Debbie.” He brushed her aside. “Screw that meeting. You have to take us out of here and we’ll go find Jason, wherever he is.”

  ***

  Jason’s head buzzed with non-stop sound. Voices merged in relentless white noise, threatening to pierce his brain. He tried to open his eyes, but they hurt because of the blinding light, as if someone had stuck needles into them. Placing a hand over his face, he moaned.

  “Sir, are you all right?” a male voice asked close by.

  “Maybe we need to call an ambulance?” a worried female voice said.

  Jason tried to shake his head despite the shooting pains in his neck, but he wasn’t sure if he actually managed to move.

  Someone’s hand took his and pressed their fingers against his wrist. Feeling my pulse. Jason’s drowsy brain started working again.

  “His heart rate’s too fast,” the woman added.

  Jason found her touch soothing. His eyelids fluttered open, his fists clenched tight. He gasped, and the world around him came in sharp lines and distinct colors. The woman had short, ginger hair, her face studded with a multitude of tiny freckles.

  “Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said in a low voice, checking the side of his head where it hurt the most. When he let go of his head, there was blood on his fingertips. Damn it! “Where am I?”

  The man and the woman exchanged a brief glance.

  “We’re at King’s Cross,” the man said. “Let us help you,” he offered.

  Jason sat up then sprung up to his feet, looked around, searching for anyone, Tyler, Debbie, or Violet. They’re not here.

  “You should lie down for a bit,” the woman said.

  “No, I have to go.”

  Despite the woman’s warning not to do it, he walked along the platform, his hand on his head, his vision swimming before his eyes.

  I’m at King’s Cross. What’s next? I’m supposed to find a girl. He looked around, but there were too many people. Some had kids with them.

  With shaking fingers, Jason took the sheet of paper out of his pocket and reread the message. King’s Cross. The girl. Don’t let her die.

  In that moment the pain rushed in and the letters went blurry before his eyes. He blinked a few times before he could see them again. He pushed the sheet of paper back into the pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. To his surprise, it was intact, but the battery was dead.

  The tunnel must’ve ruined it. It’s good for nothing now.

  He looked around. A crowd idled on the edge of the platform, waiting for the next train to arrive. There was only one thing he could try that might help him. The Sight. He was too weak, but he had to try it.

  Closing his eyes, Jason focused, pushing his pain to the back of his mind. Come on. Let it work. I need to enter the Sight and find this girl.

  When his eyes opened, everything was bathed with silvery shining. It was so bright he had to squint. He scanned the people as they passed him by, unaware of the light that touched them and made their features smooth and perfect. Nor did they take any notice of the trails that drifted in their wake.

  Waves of warm liquid light tickled his back, and he swiveled on his heels and found himself gawking at the crowd inundated with liquid silver coming from beyond it.

  She’s there. His feet pushed him to the edge of the platform, his heart racing. When he finally managed to scramble through the crowd, he saw her. A little girl in a white spotless dress was standing right on the railway line. Her blonde hair reached down to the waist. When she looked in his eyes, the sense of déjà vu overwhelmed him. It reminded him of the way he’d met Violet.

  A train showed in the distance, its lights glistening along the tunnel walls, and then Jason remembered the letter: Don’t let her die.

  You must be kidding me, he thought.

  The train was slowing down, but was still going at a high speed.

  “A girl on the tracks!” he yelled. “There’s a girl on the tracks!”

  People threw wary glances at him, and then Jason realized why.

  They can’t see her. The train’s not going to stop. He had to get her out of its way. There was only one thing he could do. He jumped down and ran along the railway, right towards the girl. People gasped and shouted, pointing at him, but he kept running forward.

  The train driver hit the brakes, the screeching reaching its peak within seconds, but the train kept moving, carried forward by its momentum.

  The girl stood rooted to the spot, her dress rippling in the draft. She looked at Jason, as if unaware of the train that was about to run over her. A porcelain statuette about to be ruined by an immense force.

  Jason’s calves caught fire. His muscles ached after the journey through the tunnel, but he had to get to her before the train did.

  A few more steps and he would reach her. Then what? A thousand frantic thoughts dashed through his mind. He’d push her up onto the platform and save her life—that porcelain statuette just could not be broken. Jason jumped and stretched his hand to her, the train roaring, braking, but still moving forward, about to run over the girl and take both their lives.

  He gripped the girl’s delicate wrist, and found himself plunging into the white light of the train headlights. His teeth clenched tight; he expected to be crushed, but instead he landed facedown on a cold, hard surface, and the screeching of the brakes wasn’t there anymore. He panted for breath, his lungs still burning from running.

  Feet pattered closer towards him, and then someone’s small hand touched his shoulder.

  With a grunt, Jason turned, recognizing the girl from King’s Cross sitting and staring at him.

  “I’m Alice,” she said, her voice like a bird chirping. “Are you Jason?”

  “Yeah. How do you know my name?”

  Bit by bit Jason’s eyes got used to the semi-dark. He leaned on one elbow then pushed himself up with unsteady hands.

  “The train. Where’s it gone?” he asked, his voice shaking.

  The girl tilted her head. “The train?”

  “Yes. There was a train. You were on the tracks, and it was about to run over you.”

  Alice smiled. “I don’t know. I was here all this time.”

  “This is crazy,” he said. “What is this place?”

  The room was thick with the smell of neglect, furnished with a chair and an old desk where a candle burned.

  “It’s deep underground, in London.”

  “Underground? How could I get underground?”

  “Emily told me you’d be surprised.” The girl smiled.

  “Wait. You know Emily?” he asked.

  “Yes.” The girl stood and walked to the desk. Taking a pencil, she started working furiously over her picture.

  Jason’s legs trembled as he came over to the girl and looked over her shoulder.

  “I was about to finish it when you appeared,” she said.

  The
picture Alice was working on showed a square with a fountain and a beautiful statue with wings and a bow. Some of the buildings were unfinished yet, but Jason recognized the place.

  “Piccadilly Circus,” he muttered. “Wow, you’re really amazing.”

  With sharp, confident strokes, Alice added new lines to the scene, changing the crayons quickly, drawing with unusual eagerness that Jason couldn’t help but admire. Jason watched her in silence, afraid to interrupt the girl’s work. A few minutes later the picture was finished.

  “Done!” Alice exclaimed.

  “I’ve never seen anyone draw like this,” he said. “It’s fantastic.”

  “Thanks.” Alice smiled. “I have another one here. Emily said I’d have to wait a bit before you came.”

  She laid the picture aside, and beneath it Jason spotted another drawing—black and white this time—where Alice stood hand in hand with Emily on a platform. Alice had made the background close to black, which helped bring her and Emily to the foreground. Jason could swear Emily shined in this picture, her light touching Alice’s skin and making it shine as well.

  Some of the lines were done carelessly, but it made the picture even more vibrant. It depicted her so lifelike Jason couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered.

  “Take it,” Alice said. “It’s my present to you.”

  Jason smiled at the girl. “Thank you. It’s so kind of you. I will always keep it with me.”

  He folded the picture twice and put it in an inside pocket of his coat.

  “Did Emily tell you anything else? Maybe she left a message for me?” Jason asked.

  “She said that as soon as you get here we’ll have to find the City of Tranquility.”

  “The City of Tranquility? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “You will see where to go,” Alice said. “You’ll see her trace.”

  Jason sighed. “Are you sure?”

  The girl nodded enthusiastically.

  Jason knelt down beside her. “Before we go there you should know something. Alice, you’re my protector.”

  The girl’s face became serious, her eyebrows knotted together.

  “You see, there are people out there who don’t like me,” Jason went on.

  “Why?”

  “Well, they see everything in a different light, and my appearance causes them to feel a lot of pain.”

  “So are you bad?”

  Jason squeezed her hands gently. “No, I don’t mean to hurt anyone, I swear. It’s just the way I am and the way they are. And I’m afraid they won’t like you either, because you protect me, but I don’t want you to get hurt, so you’ll have to stay with me, okay?”

  The girl nodded again.

  “Okay. Now let’s take a look at this place.” Jason entered the Sight and the room blazed with the light around Alice. Her aura made the walls and the floor scintillate with a heavenly glitter.

  Jason took Alice by the hand and staggered out of the room into an empty corridor. A beautiful sapphire-colored thread ran along the wall. Jason approached and traced the thread with his fingertips, its vibe so strong and yet delicate.

  Alice’s eyelashes fluttered, and she gasped in awe. “It’s so beautiful!”

  “Can you see it?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I always see them now. It started the day when Emily came to take me.”

  She let go of his hand and placed her fingers over the sapphire-colored thread, giggling as it coiled around and tickled her hand.

  Alice walked along the thread, caressing it with her small hand, and it burned brighter.

  Jason stood still, watching this beautiful fairy. Then Alice turned. “Let’s go. We have to follow Emily’s light.”

  Mesmerized, Jason couldn’t believe he’d found another defender. Untouched by the Dark Ones. Not dead as he’d thought previously.

  They roamed the corridors a while, turning left and right. As they passed by doorways, Jason peeked inside. Some of the rooms were filled with old furniture. Others had piles of old clothes, toys and books scattered all over the place, everything covered with a thick blanket of dust. People had been here once, but now the place looked chilling.

  Alice stopped and turned around. “Jason, look! The trace goes inside this room.” She pointed a small finger.

  “Give me your hand,” Jason said.

  The girl did as she was told. They entered the room. All of a sudden, a door whizzed out of the wall behind them and sealed the room shut, burying both in total darkness.

  “What’s going on?” Alice’s hand tensed in Jason’s grip, and she grasped him by the sleeve with the other.

  “It’s all right,” he soothed her. “You shouldn’t be scared.”

  He lit the place with his bright light. Alice squinted and tilted her head to the side, her eyes mere slits.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Let’s take a look at it.” He came to the door and checked for a handle, but it didn’t have any. He applied his hand to its cool surface, and in seconds it flared hot.

  “Ouch!” He jerked his hand away from the door. “That hurt!”

  “I’m scared,” Alice whimpered.

  “We can’t get back through that wall anymore.” He looked around the room. An old mahogany desk sat close to the far wall, cluttered with papers, a dusty leather armchair next to it. The wall was lined with rows of shelves crammed with thick folders.

  Among the piles of paper in the center of the table there was a kind of register. Jason picked it up and turned it over. A long list ran down the page, ending somewhere in the middle. Names. He looked at the last one and frowned. Jason Walker. And the one before him. Emily Ethan.

  Slowly, another name appeared below his own. Alice Foster.

  “Is your last name Foster?”

  “How did you know?” Alice asked.

  “So it’s a register of all the people who visited this room.” He gave the shelves full of registers another look. Impressive.

  He suddenly remembered the story Emily had told him about some of the rooms in the underground. Why would she lead us into this particular room?

  According to Emily, there were dozens of them here constructed by gifted people who left their souls inside the rooms when they died, each serving a particular goal. Emily would never send him here without reason.

  He studied the list of the names above Emily’s. Santiago Garcia, Belle Christi, Vladislav Chernyavski. He thumbed through the list and turned to the previous page, but he didn’t recognize anyone.

  There was nothing else there, so it was impossible to tell when these people had visited the room.

  “What do I have to do?” he muttered.

  “Find the twelfth name in the third column on page 243 of volume 27,” Alice said.

  “What did you say?” Jason asked.

  “It says so on all these sheets.” She raised one to Jason, then picked another, and another one. He took the sheet Alice offered. Only one phrase there.

  “Volume 27?” Jason muttered.

  At the same time he noticed another thing that made him worried: his own light faded a bit. Alice’s aura shimmered as she paced around the desk, picking up some more papers. The girl’s trail vanished, almost instantaneously. Something wasn’t right.

  “This room feeds on our Energy,” Jason realized. “Alice, we need to find the register and get out of here.”

  He shut the one in his hands and studied its gray cover. In the right top corner he spotted a small number imprinted into it. 301.

  “That’s nice,” he said, tossing the register back onto the desk.

  He swiveled towards the shelves. Where can I find the 27th?

  He spotted a small ladder in the corner, darted towards it and snapped his head up to look at the shelves above. They looked the same, and it was difficult to say where the first one was supposed to be.

  He climbed the ladder and picked the first register on the left. It had number 68 on it. The next
in line had 121 on its cover.

  “Damn it!” There had to be a way to find it quicker. Use your Energy?

  He touched the registers on different shelves and focused on them.

  His aura flickered like a faulty bulb as his Energy seeped into the book, but nothing else happened.

  “Maybe we should look for it somewhere else? Where it’s not that obvious?”

  Alice stopped to think for a few seconds. “The desk?”

  Jason tilted his head, not sure whether they had time to keep rummaging through the shelves or if they should try the desk drawers, then he climbed down and started pulling the drawers. He pulled out the top drawer first, but it was empty. So were the next few. When he pulled the bottom drawer, it wouldn’t open. “Didn’t think so,” he scoffed. “At least we may be right about where it might be hidden.”

  Alice smiled, but then her smile faltered. She stumbled, suddenly weak, her skin pale as if translucent.

  “Whoa.” Jason took a few steps, trying to get to her and break her fall, but his head hurt so much he had to stop. The room came in splotches. He moved slowly to her and picked up her limp body. Though she weighed barely anything, stars flecked his vision, his hands shaking. He checked her pulse. The vein throbbed weakly, but at least her heart was beating.

  Alice stirred and opened her eyes. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “I… have…” Her eyes were half closed as she sat nearby. “Here.” She put her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a brass key. Alice’s hand fell to her lap, her head dropping to her chest.

  “Alice! Don’t fall asleep! Alice!” Jason shook her, but she didn’t respond. He gripped the key in his fist. Laying Alice carefully onto the cold surface, he pushed himself up and stumbled to the desk, breathing heavily.

  We need to get the hell out of here, he thought.

  He bent to take a closer look at the drawer, inserted the key into the key hole, and turned it. The lock clicked and Jason wrenched at the drawer.

  “It worked!” He exclaimed and a fit of cough racked his body.

  His vision swam and he blinked a few times, the register in his hands out of focus. The silver of his aura barely lit his hands. Darkness shrouded the rest of the room, and consumed Alice too.