Mortals: Heather Despair Book One

by Leslie Copeland

  "This spirit food is amazing! It beats mortal food by far," I said.

  "Interesting," said Emmett. "A lot of mortals gag on spirit food." He twiddled his spoon in his coffee and cleared his throat, then smiled at me.

  "Why do you think Dad and Sam went to the . . . the Hollow Hill Hold?" I asked.

  "The Coterie has been busy there," he said. "You summoned me from there. Don't you know what they are doing?"

  "They said they were making it ready," I said. But ready for what?

  "They imagine they can stop the Turned Against," said Emmett. "I have my doubts."

  "I was attacked by those cloaked weirdos," I said. "If we don't stand up to them, me and my friends could end up like my dad and his friends. But I stopped them. I fought them off."

  Emmett's eyebrows shot upward. "You fought them? That doesn't sound safe." He reached across the table and took my hand in his. His hand buzzed in and out. I opened my hand and let him hold it.

  I smiled. "We never know if it's safe. But it was right."

  "That's what I said! You're quoting me!" said Emmett. He smiled a beam of pure sunshine that filled my stomach with butterflies, or maybe they were Dead Town moths or bats.

  I looked down at our clasped hands. Then up at Emmett's face. His cheeks flushed pink when he met my eyes. I could feel the heat rising to my own face.

  "I dearly wish you would not leave for the Coterie," he said. "Not, at least, without your artifact. It worries me, I think. You, unprotected."

  He squeezed my hand a little tighter and I shivered at the tingle this produced.

  "I can't allow my friends and family to face danger without me," I said. "When the Coterie takes a stand, I have to be there. The Turned Against can't be allowed to run rampant, attacking spiritualists. They're affecting the spirit world, too. You're in hiding from them. Holed up in All's Hold."

  His shoulders sagged. "It is true. They've taken over more and more." He reached into his waistcoat with his free hand, and dropped the ring box on the table.

  "My wish is for you to become my protégée. But please, Aether. I will gladly release that wish. I give the ring freely, with no obligation. It is merely for your own protection. Aether, I . . . I do not wish you to come to harm." He flickered, and his hand in mine felt like it was fluttering. I reached out and took his other hand in mine. I held both his hands, until he stopped flickering and raised his hopeful face to mine. "It really is all right if you don't want to be my protégée. But if you insist on fighting, I want you to be safe." He gazed intently into my eyes. His face held only sincerity. I believed him.

  "You were right about me," I whispered.

  He nodded, holding tight to my hands. Never once breaking eye contact.

  I slid into the blackness of his eyes, deeper and deeper, until he spoke.

  "Your eyes," he said. "Are so beautiful. Like kaleidoscopes of gold."

  I took a deep breath for both of us. I found my gaze drifting to his lips. I leaned a little closer. What would it feel like, to kiss a spirit?

  "Emmett," I said, very softly, "I have to return."

  He swallowed, his cheeks now flushed red. I let go of one of his hands and touched his cheek. "You're getting color," I said.

  He touched his own cheek, absently. Still gazing into my eyes, he said, "If you insist on fighting, I will accompany you. I could do more, if you were my protégée, to protect you. But I will do whatever I can."

  "Thank you," I said. I held up my left hand. "Since you offer it freely, I will take the ring."

  "Yes?" He clasped my hand to his chest. "Oh, thank All!"

  I felt the warm buzz of energy on his chest. For a second, he felt solid and almost alive. Then it faded. Emmett held up the ring and moved it toward the ring finger of my left hand.

  "Wait," I said.

  He cocked his head in disappointment. "No?" he said.

  "Emmett, I do," I said.

  "I beg your pardon?" He froze, holding the ring up, looking from me to it in confusion.

  "I do want to be your protégée," I said at last. "Maybe it's irrational, and maybe it's not safe. But the Coterie will need all the help they can get. And I . . . I can tell it's right."

  "Quoting me!" Emmett grinned wide, that infectious smile that made me smile as well. Then he fumbled for the ring. I trembled a little, and he flickered, and together we slipped the Ring of Esperance on my finger.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Able's Fate

  I stood inside the enormous charcoal-colored turret of rough-hewn stones and gazed directly upward. Emmett's tower. A circle of gray spirit world sky was visible dead above, where the roof wasn't. Though the room around me was furnished with stuffy Victorian chaises and loveseats, I still got the eerie sense that I waited at the bottom of a well.

  Above, Emmett's black-and-white shape morphed, wisped, flitted here and there. I could hardly keep him in my sight. He cruised the inside wall of the tower, round and round. Every inch contained books, with shelves lining the inner walls. But most of them were over my head.

  "What are you looking for?" I whispered.

  "A moment longer. I'll find it," he called down. His voice echoed hollow off the books, as if they, too, were made of stone.

  "Shh! Hurry," I said. There was no telling how long we'd remain undiscovered by the birds. They could easily enter this tower through the open roof.

  Along the floor drifted a little white shape, almost transparent. I jumped, then recognized the dog who had saved me before.

  "Hey, it's Specter," I said. "Here, boy." I whistled to call him to me.

  Specter drifted closer. When he reached my feet, he lowered his head and dropped a bone at my feet. I picked it up, wiping away some ecto-slobber. The bone unraveled in my hand. It wasn't a bone at all. It was a scroll.

  Specter woofed once, then sank down through the floor. His sad eyes were the last to go; they looked at me for some time before disappearing with the rest of him.

  I unrolled the scroll, and nearly dropped it. The blocky handwriting, and the signature at the end! "It's from Sam!" I said and hurried to read it.

  Heather—I'm sorry I left you behind. Bruce gave me some trouble, and I had to escape through Valente's portal. I wound up in the spirit world and couldn't get back.

  The scroll is because I can't mind message. Too dangerous. Turned Against roaming everywhere.

  I found Dad! He insisted on going back to the mortal world because of a problem with our house. I told him it's not our house anymore. He says that's the problem. The Vic was never supposed to be sold to non-spiritualist mortals. He says we have to take it back.

  We heard you and Emmett teamed up. Dad said congratulations. Emmett's a highly respected spirit. He said if you're with Emmett, you're safe.

  So, congratulations, I guess. As soon as I can, I'll find you.

  —Sam

  "Ah, good. Specter had it," said Emmett, now floating over my shoulder. "That's what I was looking for."

  "You had a message from my brother this whole time?" I fumed. "I thought you were finding a book for me."

  Emmett frowned. "This is my personal library. I don't give these out to just anyone." He squinted at me as though I might steal them.

  "But the message!" I hissed. "Why didn't you give it to me earlier?"

  Emmett held out his hands to calm me. They brushed mine, and in my anger, spectricity sparked and jumped to him. He gritted his teeth as the outline of his manifestation blurred and fizzled. He faded, then reappeared dimmer, like a failing light bulb.

  "I'm sorry!" I said to his haggard face.

  "Use the ring." His voice came out thin and hoarse.

  I held the ring out before me, concentrating to pull the spectricity back. Immediately, it zipped into my hand. Not a crackle remained.

  "Wow!" I said, staring at my hand.

  Emmett flickered, then he shook. His manifestation brightened. "Much better. You're improving—my little protégée."

  I turned so
he wouldn't notice me blushing at the nickname.

  Pop! He was before me, grinning into my hot face. "That message just arrived. Specter brought it in. We often receive messages here, in my tower. Books, deadzines, missives. It's the best place to look for communication that flies under the telepathic radar."

  "Oh. That's why the dog had it," I said. I tried to frown, but his grin coaxed me into a weird half-smile.

  "Indeed. Burying his bones. So many things wind up here because of Specter," said Emmett. "He's worse than a shade."

  "What is a shade?" I asked.

  Emmett hung his head. "Nothing. Nothing at all. A useless bit of a legion spirit that floats around, disturbing things. More often than not, collecting things, too."

  "Oh." He looked so embarrassed. And I'd seen him collecting things. Could it be? "Is that what you are?" I asked. "Are you a shade?"

  "What an impertinent question!" He turned his back on me. "Just what are you implying?"

  "Hmm," I said. "You didn't deny it."

  "I shouldn't have to," he said, sniffing. "Am I a shade, indeed!"

  It didn't seem so far-fetched, to me. He did go around collecting things. He did float, and sometimes, disturb things. And as for useless . . . he hadn't exactly proven to be a man of action. He was great at talking my ear off. I wondered if shades did that.

  I did my best, then, to rouse him to action. "Please, I need to return to the mortal world right away!"

  "The tower is closer to the portals," said Emmett. "We'll fly quickly, before they see us. Even though I hate to fly. But I shall miss you terribly." His pleading eyes tugged at my heart. But I stood firm, held up the ring proudly.

  "I'll return soon. And if anything gets in my way, I'll show them this!" I opened my hand and formed a ball of spectricity. I spun it upward, toward the opening to the sky above. It whizzed around, knocking books from shelves, scattering pages everywhere.

  "That is indeed impressive," said Emmett with total sincerity. "But please don't ravage my bookshelves again." He shook a few pages from his shoulders.

  "I'm so sorry!" I lowered my hands carefully to my sides.

  "It's all right, my little protégée. Now, if we are separated, there's one thing you must know. Never, ever remove the ring. Nor let anyone else remove it. The consequences will be disastrous." He frowned very dark. Then burst into a wide, sunshine grin. "Other than that, have fun!"

  "That's it?" I clutched my ring hand. "There's no other rules?" I had already guessed I couldn't remove the ring, just like the other wearers. The All would be quick in his retribution, so said the history. And I wasn't about to cross the All. If he was real, he'd no doubt be extremely powerful.

  "Rules? Of course not! Although . . . you might experience some minor alterations in the mortal world. Changes to your appearance. And some other strange effects," he said.

  "Such as what?" I squinted at him.

  "Nothing important. They'll most likely fade in time. Please try not to worry," he said, resting his arm lightly on my shoulders. My body hummed, but I focused, and avoided zapping him this time. I wiggled my fingers, watching the black stone flash. So much easier, with this ring. I was suddenly very grateful to have it. I smiled.

  "Take me back," I said. I slipped my hand into Emmett's. He gritted his teeth, and clenched his eyes shut, but he rose, drawing me with him. Together we spun upward, out the top of the tower, and drifted toward the portal field that would return me to the mortal world.

  Drifting through clouds, gazing down from the giddy height, we saw no sign of birds. However, something was wrong below. Darkness gathered on the portal field, black mists, a crackling storm.

  All the time I'd been here, the weather stayed constant—that same bland, featureless gray sky and still air. The spirit world felt, well, dead. Motionless, like a world frozen under glass. Not threatening, exactly. Just still.

  Inside the city, although murk gathered and passages darkened with funeral gloom, nothing was dramatic. No shadows, no wind. Mist and murk and wafting ectoplasm. Sounds echoed away into silence. Everything calm.

  Now, for the first time, black clouds and lightning, the roar of thunder. Not in the sky, where storms belonged, but low to the ground, thickly covering the portal field.

  "The Turned Against!" I shouted to Emmett. "They're blocking the portals!"

  "Cruxing All!" he swore. "Hide!"

  He slid us into the Disenchanted Forest, behind a large slough tree. I stiffened with fear, remembering the Feeders from last time.

  "Try to relax," he hissed. He laid his arm on my shoulders. I felt its hum. When I didn't stop shaking, he surrounded me with both his arms. Though he flickered in and out, I could feel him hum around me, blocking out the forest, keeping me safe.

  I relaxed. Emmett stopped flickering. For a brief moment, I felt him pressed, warm and alive, against me. Like a mortal boy. I breathed in deep. How good it felt, to be held by him. Better than Oskar carrying me. I leaned in, my head on his shoulder, and wrapped my arms around him. Then I almost fell forward. He'd disappeared. My empty arms still tingled from his embrace, but only the lightning scent remained.

  "Emmett, where are you?" My voice cracked with longing.

  "Heather?" A much deeper voice than Emmett's replied through the trees. I looked all around for the source. Then, from behind the slough tree, out stepped—spiky hair, leather jacket—could it be?

  "Sam!" I grabbed him, latched around his waist and hung on. I started to cry.

  "Shhh, Heather. Keep cool," said Sam. "They're here."

  Yeah, it was Sam. Way too calm, while I freaked out.

  "Why did you leave me?" I shouted. "Do you know how worried I've been? I love you. I missed you." I sobbed into his T-shirt, getting it all soggy.

  "Heather, I'm sorry," whispered Sam. He backed up, dragging me with him deeper into the forest.

  I reared back, glared at him. "Do you know how scared I've been? I was going to run away on my own! Crazy cloaked people attacked me in Portales Espirituales! And the Coterie! And ghosts! I had to deal with all of it on my own! I hate you, Sam Despair!" I punched his arm as hard as I could.

  "Ow! Crux, Heather, I'm not your enemy! We were attacked, too! I got separated from Dad!" Sam glared back at me, holding his arm.

  I burst into fresh tears. "I love you. And you're safe. That's all that matters. I'm sorry." I patted his arm where I'd punched him. Sam winced.

  "May not be safe long. Turned Against are out there. We can't get to the portals. Worse, I don't know which portal is the right one." Sam shook his head.

  I peered between the trees, at the flickering mass of thunderclouds. The lightning flickered blue. Spectricity.

  "This is like what happened in Portales Espirituales. I bet it's that cloaked couple again," I said.

  "The Doctormans." My ear tickled with a spirit's whisper. "Xenia and Aurelius."

  "Emmett! Please show yourself," I begged.

  "He's here, isn't he? I can hear his whisper," said Sam, gripping his temples. "Gah, tell him to tone it down. Hurts my head."

  A faded, black-and-white outline wafted in the air before us. Sam groaned and rubbed his forehead.

  "Sam, meet Emmett," I said. "Emmett, this is my brother Sam. Could you tone something down? Otherwise his head's going to explode."

  "Sorry." Again, I had to rub my ear from the tickle of his whisper. And pop! There stood a fully formed, solid Emmett before us. Still black-and-white, but he appeared more or less alive. He extended his pale hand to Sam.

  Sam smiled with relief. "Thanks," he said. He gripped firmly Emmett's hand and shook, like a man that meant business. Emmett laughed.

  "Truly an honor. The great Samhain Despair. And such a grip, for a mortal!" said Emmett. "Aether neglected to give my full title. Emmett Groswald Cornelius Marie-Claude St. Claire Juan Rodriguez Gabriel Lysander Tippetarius O'Toole Carlisle Fitzhugh." He shook Sam's hand, faster and faster, until Sam was holding nothing. Emmett's hand had drifted into transparency,
the rest of him wafting mists.

  Sam waved his hand to dispel the ghost vapors. He raised one eyebrow at me.

  "New boyfriend, huh? Seems nice." He shrugged. My face flushed, so instantly hot, I thought the Turned Against might be able to detect it.

  "Shut up, Sam!" I whispered. "It's not like that. Emmett's a spirit."

  Sam just looked at me, silent.

  "Shut up!" I said again.

  "He likes you—Aether," said Sam. "Doesn't take seer powers to see that. And you—"

  I punched his arm again, hard.

  "Great cruxing All!" Sam held up his hands. "I'll never mention it again. Not until the wedding."

  "What wedding?" Emmett faded in between us. "Who's getting married?"

  "Shhh," I said. "Sam's in love with Lily, that's all."

  "Who's Lily?" Sam sounded bored. "That nerdy little girl, with the big glasses? Yeah, our love's a raging fire."

  "Congratulations!" Emmett shook Sam's hand again, until Sam nearly fell into the slough tree. "It's marvelous luck, when you find the one you were meant to be with. That special someone who will be with you for all eternity." He gave me his enormous grin. I twisted the ring on my finger.

  "Eternity?" I said. "That seems like a pretty long time."

  Emmett held his arms open to me. I shrank back.

  Luckily, the crackles and rumbles in the clearing grew louder, interrupting us. We all sneaked closer to the tree line to see why.

  They emerged from the dark clouds, the hooded figures with long staffs. Just as before, I couldn't see their faces, but I heard them talking to each other.

  "Keep the portals covered in a half-reality maze, Xenia. Anyone who enters will suffer Able's fate," said the man's voice.

  "Yes, Aurelius," said the woman's voice. "But will he really come?"

  "O ye of little faith," said Aurelius. "Our master promised on his scepter to intervene at the least disturbance."

  Sam clenched my arm. "Dad got by them. I acted as a decoy, and he got by. That's how come we got separated."