Mortals: Heather Despair Book One

by Leslie Copeland

  "Then what do they mean by Able's fate?" I asked.

  Sam pulled me back from the tree line, under the sheltering boughs of a slough tree. "This," he said, and pressed his finger to my forehead.

  The vision came over me gradually, with a dim awareness of Sam touching my forehead, and the tree branches and forest floor faded away. Clouds and darkness filled my sight, and I clawed my way through mist and murk, a musty smell overpowering my nostrils. Before me, an elongated form appeared out of the clouds. Tall and gaunt, old and sly, I knew immediately who it must be. The Bellum! Far taller than any normal human, his long, bent body swayed like a snake ready to strike. His smile stretched wide, his tiny black eyes glittering bright.

  Before him stood my stubborn, unflappable father, Able Despair. He had more hair than I remembered—this must have been ten years ago—and he wore a black trench coat over T-shirt and jeans, and a peculiar amulet. His boots flashed with unnecessary straps and buckles. I wanted to snort—always trying to be the cool spiritualist, dressed like a rock star from the eighties. Then I heard his words, and my heart ached.

  "My name is Able Bastyr Despair," he said to the Bellum. "I am the last of the Despair line. Take me instead of them."

  "Are you truly the last of your line?" The Bellum's dark eyes burned with curiosity. "The council believes the Despair family to be extinct." He cackled to himself.

  "We will be, if I perish," said Able, lowering his head.

  "Foolish mortal!" shouted Bellum. "I will take whomever I wish. The Four are even now but a memory of Portales Espirituales history. Name them!"

  His head still bowed, Able intoned, "Valente de los Santos. Maximilian Pollander. Arturo Benavidez. Able Bastyr Despair—myself."

  "Their spirit names, mortal!" Clouds roiled in fantastic shapes behind the Bellum.

  Able held out his hands, empty.

  Bellum growled. "You don't know? And you come to my bidding, without caution or protection? Not knowing spirit names? What kind of spiritualist are you?"

  Able straightened, and locked eyes with the Bellum.

  "The last of my line," he said, his voice steady, his gaze sure. I lost sight of him in the blast of spectricity that emanated out of Bellum and swallowed my dad, flinging him backward.

  Although I couldn't see it, I felt my dad's pain, his energy draining away—I knew Able Despair had been spiritually wounded, afflicted with the weird, incurable cancer that would take his life three years later, while he wasted away among the children he'd protected, and watched the friends he'd named die, one by one.

  I came out of the trance crying. Emmett handed me his black handkerchief.

  "You saw?" said Sam.

  "He protected us," I said, wiping tears away.

  Sam nodded. "He did at least do that."

  "Don't be so hard on Dad! He did what he could. To face the Bellum, I mean, he had no idea! None at all. And no way to protect himself."

  "Your father faced the Bellum?" Emmett's eyes were wide. He backed up.

  That is what Arturo meant, when he was talking to me in the truck. "I don't blame Able for what happened." Of course. Exploring the spirit world alone, with no escort or guide, how could my dad have resisted a direct summons from the Bellum?

  Sam's face crinkled with emotion. "He got all his friends killed. He could have gotten us killed. That really would have been the end of the line. And he never saw any of it coming."

  "How could he be expected to?" I said. "Dad didn't have anyone to teach him. He's not as powerful as you or me. Don't be like Mom. She told me he should have given it all up."

  "Yeah, well . . ." Sam's dark look said it all.

  "You don't mean that." I was shocked. "You do not mean that! Where would we be without him? You think twice, Samhain Despair, before you tell me Dad should have given up spiritualism. You think about what that would mean."

  "It would mean he'd be alive," muttered Sam.

  "No! It would mean we'd be dead! Both of us. We'd have no one to protect us or teach us. Just like he had no one."

  Sam's mouth opened, but he didn't say anything.

  "If Dad hadn't taken risks—if he'd given up—we wouldn't have a hope. You think about that the next time you mope that Dad didn't foresee his own death. Who says he could have avoided it anyway, if he had foreseen it? We aren't gods, Sam. Just mortals. Just spiritualists."

  Sam nodded. I decided to stop lecturing while I was ahead—I was beginning to sound like Emmett.

  "Remember Dad saved us. He sacrificed himself," I said.

  Emmett was muttering to himself. "Facing the Bellum. No-o-o. Very dangerous."

  Sam closed his eyes. "Each time I lose Dad, I think I'll never see him again. I need him!" He opened his eyes, and I saw the tears he was trying to blink away. "We've got to get past the Doctormans."

  "Agreed," Emmett said, floating up behind Sam. "We must recover your father."

  "Well, then," I said, "Let's give them a taste of their own medicine. Spectricity!"

  "No, Heather, wait!" Emmett flapped around, flickering in and out. "If you fight them head on, the Bellum might appear! Let's be clever. We can sneak around them."

  "How?" I glanced at Sam, then Emmett.

  Sam cracked his knuckles. "Let's go. You blast them. I'll come in punching."

  "Please, not violence! There are portals near the back that may not be affected! Let's try there first," said Emmett.

  A bat-Chi, maybe Sybil, popped its head out of Emmett's chest and yipped at me, as if agreeing with him. Then she disappeared again.

  "Emmett, you're right. Sam, you're right, too," I said. "I'll create a diversion. Then Emmett, you take Sam and the bat-Chi's. Find a likely portal. If I can get the Doctormans to move off a little, you can all escape." Then I grabbed Emmett's tie. I pulled his face close to mine. "Make sure Sam gets the right portal," I said. I stared down those black wells. "I'm counting on you."

  Emmett flickered, pink in his cheeks, and he grinned wildly. "Yes, Aether. If you call me, I must come. If you send me, I must go."

  "Heather, you can't sacrifice yourself for me," said Sam. "We're in this together."

  "You've got to be the one to find Dad," I said. "You found him before. I've got to be the one to fight these guys." I held out my hand. A blue flame flickered in it, perfectly formed and under control. "I've got the fire power. I can do this."

  I knew then, what I wanted. Maybe it was some kind of instinct. All I knew—I wanted to face them, like Dad faced the Bellum—but this time, I wanted to win.

  "Take him," I said to Emmett. Sam crossed his arms, stubbornly.

  "Yes, my little protégée. You gave me my wish," said Emmett. "Now I do your bidding."

  "That's right," I said. I reached out, took Emmett's hand. "Take him to the Vic, in the mortal realm. Keep him safe."

  Emmett spread his arms wide and flew at me. I braced myself for a hug, but he swept through me instead, leaving me all hot and cold and shivery-feeling. I gasped, the lightning scent enveloping me. Emmett whirled toward Sam, who tried to wave him off.

  "No, I'll stay and fight!" said Sam, punching and kicking, as Emmett swirled around and around him. All I could see was a gray blur, like one of the portals. The blur lifted and moved off through trees. I caught one last angry mind message from Sam.

  —Heather! Tell your boyfriend to let me go! I have a right to stay and fight them!

  I shook my head no. Nor would I answer. I raced to the edge of the trees. On the brink of their storm, Xenia stalked back and forth. Her hood down, she was a tired-looking woman, black hair and blonde roots. I snickered and drew her fierce blue-eyed gaze.

  "Who is there?" Her voice shook with fear when I stepped from the trees, fire flaring in my palm.

  "Haven't had time for a dye job lately, huh?" I grinned at her. "Your roots are showing."

  She drew her staff, held it out before her. "That ring!"

  "You like it?" I tilted my hand so she could see it better. She snarled and aime
d a blast at me from her staff.

  Quickly, I raised my hands high, forming a shield of blue energy. Her blast bounced off. "Not going to fall for that again," I said.

  "Aurelius!" called Xenia in a high-pitched voice. "Come quick!"

  Good, just as I intended. If I could keep these two busy, Emmett could get Sam out of here.

  Aurelius popped his head out of the black clouds. "What is it now?" He saw me. "Bellum's bells! The Heir of Despair!"

  I rolled my eyes. "Please tell me you don't go around calling me that."

  "She has . . . the ring!" said Xenia in a choked voice.

  "The Ring of Esperance!" Aurelius paled. I wiggled my hand around, flashed it at him, just to make him nervous. Then I raised the flame in my hand, higher, higher. It touched the slough tree branches above, and they caught fire. The tree made an awful groaning sound, as the blue fire raged across its crown.

  I looked up. The entire top of the tree was ablaze. I had not meant to set it on fire, had not even known slough trees would be flammable. But it seemed right to take advantage, so I jumped behind the trunk, and shouting "tim—ber!" I blasted away at the roots.

  The tree shook and groaned some more, almost like a living thing. Beyond, the Doctormans' eyes had grown wide, frozen with fear. I gave one final blast, and the entire tree leaned, vibrated for a long moment, then tore loose from the earth, plunging toward the Doctormans and their storm. It fell across the tempest, bisecting it, the blue flames creating a barrier down the middle.

  The roots flailed in the air like dying things, and from the hole the tree left behind, misty spirit shapes wafted. They shook their fingers at me, clucked and scolded, then were gone, whizzing away to find some other tree. I peered down the hole, which was deep and dark and echo-y.

  On the portal field, Aurelius had gone one way, Xenia the other, and they called to each other from opposite sides of the field.

  I had to clear this storm. I remembered before, in Portales Espirituales, how I'd absorbed the energy of a storm like this, then used it against the enemy. I could do that again, but I had to reach it. Maybe I could fight off Xenia.

  I walked down the Xenia side of the burning tree trunk, the right side, and aimed blasts of spectricity in her direction. When I got close to the storm, I reached out. The sparks touched my hand. The storm's energy started to trickle into my hand while my fingers danced. I focused on absorbing the spectricity from the storm.

  An explosion flashed in front of me, searing my eyeballs. What was that? I jumped and started firing again. Xenia retreated into the trees, and now that cruxing Aurelius had come through the storm and was firing at me. I was forced to raise my shield.

  Backing up to the base of the smoking tree, I studied the hole. It just went down and down and down, the roots of the tree apparently the entrance to a world below. Big enough to hold another world. Big enough for . . . I had an idea.

  Yes. It might work. But did I have the power? This ring had given me control, but was it enough?

  Only one way to find out. I let down my shield with a long, slow, breath. Held my hands to my heart. I had to want it. I had to desire it, really feel it. Know it was true.

  And there was a tingle, a pop and a crack. I stumbled back, woozy, and fell on my rump. Sitting there, dazed, I saw before me, at my feet—a large hole, but no longer empty and echoing. A large hole full of black clouds and blue lightning, the entire storm now trapped within the cavernous opening below my feet. I had captured their storm. I reached out . . .

  The energy fed into my hands, draining slowly, and I lit up blue. Spirals of spectricity ran up my arms, blue wings flowing off my shoulders. I felt like I might fly, so strongly did the power pulse through me. I drained off the last bit of energy, then got to my feet, wobbling. But there was no need to raise a shield. Blue power emanated out of me, and I rose ever so slightly off the ground, my toes dragging.

  "Wow!" I said. "This is power!" I aimed my finger at the storm beneath my feet, and with one zap had quelled its rumbling. It evaporated away into the calm gray sky.

  With a wave of my hand, I extinguished the tree's fire into a smoking ruin.

  I drifted toward the portals, toes dragging the ground, astonished that I was almost flying. If this got any stronger, who knew what I might do?

  The Doctormans converged on me, and I expected more blasts, but instead, they bowed low in the gray grass. To me?

  I scanned the portal field. Nothing in sight. No Sam, and no Emmett. Had they gotten through?

  —Sam? I dared one tiny mind message.

  —He is safe, Aether. At the mortal hold, guarded by bat-Chi's. As you commanded.

  I jolted with shock. That wasn't Sam! Sam's messages felt sharp, abrupt—almost spiky. This message felt ornate, curling, golden. Emmett? I savored the feel of him, touching my forehead with a smile.

  A deep laugh boomed across the clearing, rattling my brain.

  "Yesss." The voice hissed and had a thousand whispers and echoes. "Telepathy. Very good. And with spirits—not just your kin."

  I came down to earth, stood solid, looking for the speaker. "Show yourself," I said, though I had some inkling who it was.

  Clouds roiled up on the edge of the portal field, and from them walked the tallest, longest person I'd ever beheld, stooped over and leaning on a scepter. That scepter must have been at least nine feet long. The elongated, drawn face smiled wickedly down on me, black eyes switching back and forth, the black-cloaked body swaying like a cobra about to strike.

  I quivered, wanted to shrink back into the woods, maybe find that hole to hide in. What was I doing? The Bellum. I couldn't face the Bellum! I—I was just a girl. A junkyard rat. Even my father couldn't face the Bellum and come out on top! My knees trembled.

  Then I remembered Dad, standing so firm in front of the ancient spirit god. Firm and unmoving and refusing to give us up. Maybe he was just stupid.

  "I can be stupid, too," I said to myself.

  Maybe, though, he had a big heart. A big heart and a brave one, that wouldn't give us up. If only he'd also managed to save his friends.

  "Heather Desperate Despair," said the Bellum's whispering hiss. It seemed to fill the sky, the air all around me, pressing in on my eardrums, on my mind. "Pleasure to meet you at last. I've heard good things about you."

  I just growled at him.

  He glared back and forth, at the Doctormans. "Stand up, you fools. My shades tell me the seer and the spirit have reached the Hollow Hill Hold in the prior world, below. Follow and ensure they don't leave." He snapped his long, bony fingers.

  The Doctormans bowed and scraped and scuttled down a portal. I watched with some curiosity as they stepped out over a large, blue-glowing hole. Holding hands, they tumbled in, whipped around briefly in the air over the hole, then spun down.

  My hands shook with fury. Here I was, trapped by the Bellum, while Sam and Emmett and maybe Dad would get attacked by those Doctormans again. I only hoped Emmett had Sam hidden someplace and hidden well. I thought of Emmett's wide grin, that serious part in his hair. If you send me, I must go, he'd said. I wondered if that was true, if he really had to do as I asked.

  A knot formed in my throat. I missed him. I missed all of them, but especially Emmett, which was peculiar, because I'd known him about one day. I kept thinking of the way he held me in the woods, not just his arms but his whole being nestled around me, and for that one second, he was alive and warm . . .

  My stomach tingled, and now there was no denying it. I may be destroyed by the Bellum, seconds from now. No reason to hide it anymore. I was crushing hard on that crazy monochrome spirit.

  It might even be love.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Battle

  I sized up the fifteen-foot spirit god before me. Stretched my arms over my head. Cracked my knuckles. Yeah. This wouldn't be so hard.

  Never mind that everybody had abandoned me here, to face him alone. Never mind that even my dad hadn't been able to best him, a
nd he was the strongest spiritualist I knew.

  Wait. That wasn't like me, to think like that. Why did my head feel all . . . echo-y?

  "Very good," hissed the Bellum, his ancient face crinkling with laughter. "You're no pushover. Will you grant me the answer to one question, if I may?"

  He'd done something, used my thoughts against me.

  "I'll answer a question if you will," I countered. "What exactly is your full name again?"

  The Bellum bowed low. "Some call me Bellum Omnium Contra Omnes, though really I feel that is too grand a title for me. I prefer simply Bellum."

  "And that means?" I had kinda pieced it together, but I wanted to be sure.

  "The War of All Against All," he replied, his head still bowed modestly.

  "Right," I said. "How did you get that name?"

  "Ah-ah." His head came up, eyes flashing. He shook his extremely long forefinger at me. "Not until you answer my question first."

  I bowed in return but didn't lower my head. Didn't take my eyes off him.

  "Your spirit name," he said.

  "I don't know it." I shook my head. Wasn't about to tell him, even if I did. Names. That's how he got the Four. I wasn't about to give this guy anything name-related. But I had his name. That had to mean something.

  Maybe he was so powerful, he didn't find me a threat.

  "I know you to be the heir," he said. "Able lied when he claimed he had no progeny. And you're more powerful than he was. More powerful than all of them. It's as though all the power, through the generations, concentrated itself in you. That's why I wish to know. Which one of them are you?"

  I didn't reply, just stared him down, golden-eyed and determined.

  "Are you Pearl?" He cocked his head sideways at me. "She was very powerful. The last to hold the ring, before you. Of course, my minion saw to that." He winked.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

  He shook his head at me. "Able was so remiss in training his children. You would think, with power like that, he'd hang around and teach you. But he just left you both behind, didn't he? Deadbeat dad, taking off with a mistress for the far dimensions."