Spirits

by Leslie Edens Copeland

  The All seems to have interpreted these invasions as the Bellum's affair and to have left Bellum to deal with it. The peaceful fourth era had come about due to cessation of conflict between the All and the Bellum. Therefore, the All may have been reluctant to take any action that could re-ignite old rivalries."

  I paused. "Okay, so this means the All didn't want to interfere because he'd made friends with the Bellum?" I made a disgusted raspberry noise. "How could he be naïve enough to think that would last?"

  Emmett looked sad. "It is not naïve to want peace, Heather."

  "Yes, but the Bellum! Listen to what it says next." I read, "Some historians have suggested that the Bellum purposely provoked the demons to invade. When the inevitable counterstrike occurred and the demons were pushed back, the Bellum ultimately profited from the newly empty lands, which he seized as his own. Bellum's realm, formed from a mishmash of stolen lands and distant, unprotected regions, floated in a mass of enjoined Lexiverses and grew ever larger and more powerful.

  Soon the peace would break. With Plouton's forces contained and Lady Mystery strangely silent, the Bellum was free to stage his attack upon the All. The fourth era ended in horrific battle that raged until the sudden transmutation of the All and Bellum into the mortal realm. Only then did Lady Mystery come forth to rule in their stead and sort out the realms, rebuilding while enforcing the strict borders and uncrossable boundaries that defined the fifth era."

  I put the scroll down. "The Bellum turned on the All. I bet it's not the first time."

  "Not by far," whispered Emmett.

  "Oh? Do you remember any of this?" I asked hopefully.

  "Remember it? Why would I remember it?" said Emmett. "It is quite fascinating, though. Heather, don't you find this so interesting?"

  "Huh? Oh, sure." I nodded at Emmett's bright smile, but secretly, I wanted to fly up through the open top of his tower and get away from all this boring history. We already knew the All fought the Bellum down through time and there were battles aplenty from era to era. What happened in the distant past didn't matter to us today!

  "One thing it confirmed," I said. "The All is too soft on the Bellum."

  "I don't see how you came to that conclusion." Emmett frowned. "It says a horrific battle raged. Obviously, the All was trying to avoid that."

  I frowned too. "The All has a habit of avoiding things. Like forgetting to help mortals who need his protection. Instead, the All disappears and lets the Turned Against run rampant. He lets Bellum attack mortals like my father. It's almost like Bellum is more important to the All than the mortals and spirits he's supposed to protect!"

  "I never knew you felt this way," said Emmett.

  "My father died because of the All's absence," I said, "As well as the rest of the Four. The All could have easily stopped that from happening."

  "Maybe, Heather." Emmett's smile was vague. "It's generally not wise to judge a life one has not lived."

  "The All isn't even alive!" I fumed. "Except through you. Come on out of there, you crusty old spirit deity! I know you're laughing at us!"

  I stared into Emmett's black eyes. Emmett stared back.

  "Well?" I said.

  "Don't be ridiculous, Heather," said Emmett. "Of course I'm alive. And I want to remain so. I think it best we return to the Vic and forget this ever happened."

  "Fine," I said. "You're giving up again. Like I said, it's typical."

  "I have no idea what you are referring to," said Emmett.

  I marched out of his haunt. I heard him crash into a wall behind me.

  "Emmett, there's a wall there," he told himself sternly and continued on through the door.

  Outside, I nearly bumped into a heavyset woman of middle age, draped in yards of cloth. She bowed respectfully to me, her hair bound in a colorful head wrap. When Emmett emerged, she bowed even lower to him.

  "I'm Madame Fustery," she said. "I believe you summoned me, your All."

  ***

  "I didn't summon you," I said to Madame Fustery for the nth time. The three of us were all gathered in Emmett's tower once again, waiting for the Madame to perform her "services" that she insisted we had requested.

  "I am honored to be of service to the All and the All's protégée," said the Madame.

  "Emmett didn't summon you either," I said. "He can't."

  "Nevertheless, the All requested a reading," said Madame Fustery in a stuffy, certain voice.

  "I'm not too happy with the All lately," I said. "He just made us read a lot of really boring history. We learned that he failed to protect his own realm and he made friends with the Bellum. I get that he wanted peace. But why would he go so easy on Bellum?"

  "The All sought to settle the conflict," said Madame Fustery. "To that end, he transmuted into mortal form. It is not my place to say. But in my opinion, the All's attempts to quell the conflict were honorable."

  I nodded. "It's all right. I'm happy to hear your insight. I certainly wasn't there!"

  "Well . . . the tale everyone hears is that the All disappeared after going mortal. The year was in 1885 in the mortal realm. The All's mortal incarnation—that is, Emmett Fitzhugh—" She gestured to Emmett, "died at the age of fifteen in 1900 and returned as a mid-level spirit. Only a very few of us knew who he really was, and even them that knows did not know what he did with the All."

  "And the All was AWOL from that point on," I said. "Well, it stopped the conflict. Unfortunately, as usual, it did not stop the Bellum." I snapped my fingers. "Something happened to Emmett in his last life. Or . . . no. Something happened in his last death. Whatever it was, it must have caused him to hide the All."

  Suddenly, Madame Fustery seemed like a great person to have at my disposal. I took her hand in mine and pleaded, "Emmett once told me you could bring back memories of past lives. How about memories of past deaths? I think Emmett's death may be what caused him to . . . hide the All." I whispered that last part.

  "I will prepare to put him under hypnosis," said Madame Fustery. "But past deaths—that's a twitchy little in-between area. The memories may be quite traumatic."

  "Please try," I said. "We need to know. I'm sure the memories won't be too hard to locate. He's spent most of his life dead."

  Madame Fustery nodded, then passed her ghostly hand directly into Emmett's head. He fell back into a chair, looking stoned but conscious. To my questioning look, Madame Fustery said, "It's so much easier, now that I can get directly inside. I almost never use the watch trick anymore." She winked and said, "Emmett! I'm taking you back to a dark time in your lives. It is the time . . . after the accident."

  Emmett's jaw slackened in horror. He thrashed and kicked, screaming, "NO! Teddy, why?!"

  I tried to hold him still as Madame Fustery intoned, "It's after the accident, Emmett. The fireball is going away. The pain is receding. You've arrived to a dark place. Do you remember the place?"

  "What accident?" I whispered in awe.

  "Emmett's previous mortal incarnation died in an airship accident. Teddy was his younger brother. It came up during his last hypnosis. Or was it the one before that? Now, shush, so I can guide him to his time of death."

  "I remember the dark place. It was the grave," Emmett murmured.

  "No. This is a place of spirits and hauntings, a labyrinth city of stone towers and tall iron gates, standing next to a deep, gray sea," said Madame Fustery.

  "The grave is dark and cold, with many worms, but no city," said Emmett.

  Madame Fustery turned to me. "It's just a little harder to get to these memories. I'll try something else." She said, "Emmett, do you remember how you met Heather?"

  "Indeed, I do. We met in her peculiar Round Room at the top of her house. A mutual friend, Oskar, invited me over for tea and Heather also attended." Emmett cast his head about blindly, smiling at the fond memory.

  I shook my head.

  "I know that's not right," said Madame Fustery. "Everyone in Dead Town knows Emmett placed the Ring of Esperance on your fin
ger. You met in a junkyard in the mortal realm, correct?"

  "Yes, that's right. Why can't he remember?" I asked.

  Madame Fustery slid her hand once again inside Emmett's head. I cringed as she cranked her elbow, feeling through each nook and cranny.

  "I can't locate it," she said finally. "It's my opinion that he's got a block on his memory. It's deep, wherever it is. I suppose he put it on himself. You don't see a spirit as advanced as Emmett submitting to that sort of thing against his will. He must have some reason to not allow his true memories to surface."

  "Could Bellum have done it? Bellum said he cruxed Emmett's mortal incarnation," I said.

  "Shhh, please. Bellum's immensely powerful and she can hear you anywhere in the spirit world," said Madame Fustery.

  "She? I saw a man!" I said.

  "Oh yes, she can appear that way," said Madame Fustery. "I suppose Bellum is whatever Bellum wants to be. And yes, she could have done this to him, had she won the battle. But she didn't. He wouldn't be here if that had happened. She would have swallowed him and brought about the Coming End."

  The Madame hummed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she gazed up, into the murk above, and said, "There will be an end to the spirit world and that end has been shown to us. A wise and gifted seer many years ago prophesied the Coming End. When Bellum rises up and defeats the All, it is upon us. Then those who are ancient will be destroyed, save one. That one remaining ancient will become the One God and the worlds will be made anew."

  "That's exactly why Emmett avoided fighting the Bellum," I said. "He's gone through so much to stop it. If he doesn't fight, the Coming End has no chance of happening." I had a little more sympathy for the All now. "I think Emmett's last death was too much for him. He couldn't go back to the fighting. But he's lost something of himself in the process. I mean, look at him. It's like he's lobotomized."

  We stared down at Emmett's frozen face.

  Madame Fustery said, "Yes, it does seem like a piece of him is gone."

  "Could he have gotten rid of part of himself or hidden it?" I asked. "He changed after that last battle."

  Madame Fustery tapped her colorful head wrap. "I doubt he could ever get rid of it. That sounds like the kernel of existence itself. Some call it the soul. He might be able to displace it, but never destroy it."

  "Maybe Bellum took it, like he did my ring," I said.

  'Maybe he hid it," said Emmett from his stupor.

  I leaned over him. "Are you trying to tell me something? Did you hide it?"

  "Yes. I unwrote it with the cockleberry pudding," said Emmett. He sounded utterly loopy.

  "Oh, Emmett." I was disappointed, but then an idea struck me. "I think he did hide it to keep it from Bellum. Then he went mortal because he wanted to be with me."

  "Yes, I want to be with you," said the hypnotized Emmett.

  "True, he bypassed many of the usual rules for life," said the Madame. "Like being born, having parents, having memories. He tried to transpose his spirit self directly into mortal life."

  "He wanted to be with me. A normal alive boy with a normal alive girl. He didn't want to be dead Emmett anymore." I held his hand, limp in mine. Two mortal living a normal life together. Could it be so strange? Emmett didn't think so.

  Madame Fustery clucked her dismay. "I don't know how he did this. Emmett's old and powerful, but I didn't know ancients could do this. And why he'd choose the age of fifteen. Who'd want to relive that?"

  "He went back to that age because I'm that age and that's the age he was when he died. He felt cheated out of the last life. He wanted a chance to start again, live out that life with me." I wiped my watery eyes and squeezed Emmett's hand.

  "I don't doubt you're right," said Madame Fustery. "But if that's the case, you won't get anything further out of him. Let me bring him up." She spoke to Emmett, awakening him out of his trance. Gradually, he grew more alert, until he sat up and gave me that adorable grin.

  "Em, I want you to try to remember your last mortal life," I said. I hoped if we could connect him to those memories of his past life, his mental block would break down and he would be whole again. "Think back to long ago. Did you ever have a brother?"

  "I do have a brother," said Emmett.

  "No, not right now. You're mixed up. I'm talking about long ago," I said.

  "Theodore. We call him Teddy," said Emmett.

  I raised my eyebrows at Madame Fustery, impressed. Emmett remembered his brother perfectly well after hypnosis.

  "Where is Teddy now?" I pondered. "He died too. Is he here, in the spirit world?"

  "He could be, but reincarnation is also a possibility. I haven't encountered this Teddy myself," said Madame Fustery.

  Maybe, if Emmett encountered Teddy again, he'd remember his most recent life in the Victorian era. He might also remember who he was now and how he got that way.

  It was all I had to go on. Emmett's past was wrapped up with Teddy's somehow. My guess, they died in the airship accident together. Emmett must have been traumatized by Teddy's death, as well as his own. Maybe seeing Teddy again would help Emmett work through what had happened and come back to himself.

  "I want to thank you for all your help. But I've just had an idea, and I think we're leaving now," I said, taking Madame Fustery's hand and shaking it.

  "By all means." Madame Fustery bowed. "So pleased to be of service to the All. Do summon me any time, Madame d'Espers, your All." She floated away, bowing, until she was only a mist.

  Emmett got to his feet. "Are we going home now?" he asked.

  "Not quite yet. Just one more visitation," I said. "There's someone from your past we need to find. I think if you see him again, it will help you to deal with your death. Then your memories may return. Maybe you'll be able to come out of hiding."

  I linked arms with him. "Teddy Fitzhugh, Teddy Fitzhugh, Teddy Fitzhugh," I said. I twisted the black stone of the Ring of Esperance.

  Rule of three. Emmett once claimed it worked almost everywhere in the spirit world. Could it get me to Emmett's brother?

  We were about to find out.

  Chapter Six

  Teddy

  We swept upward instantly, the ride smooth, controlled, and so much better than the wild portals we'd ridden between the mortal and spirit worlds. Seconds in ecto-time later, our feet touched ground. My feet slipped on the unstable, shifting texture. Sand?

  When the portal's whirls subsided and my vision cleared, I almost screamed. There was my teardrop trailer, and there—the old school bus! Green fires simmered and yellow brimstone smoked around the twisted piles of junk scattered everywhere. Clumps of clouds erupted from the sand. Outside the chain link fence stretched not desert scrublands, but a cloudy plain.

  I moaned. "Why this place? I hoped to come here nevermore."

  "Where are we?" His voice shook with fear.

  "Oh, it's just Bruce's infernal junkyard." I kicked a cloud mound. "We're back in the mortal realm. It merged with the Lexiverse after Bellum cruxed with it and it'll probably never be normal." I glanced around, taking in the heaps of old cars, cast-off refrigerators, piles of wooden pallets, and bales of wire. "Why are we here? Teddy's not here, is he?"

  "No, I'm sure Teddy's fine at home," said Emmett. He sounded addled again. "He's excited about the zeppelin ride."

  What would Teddy be doing in the junkyard anyway? Only Bruce was here. And maybe some old coyotes. Teddy didn't reincarnate as either of those.

  "Teddy loved inventing stories. He used to play with his toy bear, Mr. Bells, and all the little horses he could gather. He acted out battles on the sitting room floor until our mama chased him outside," said Emmett.

  "Used to. Because something happened to him, didn't it?" I said. Maybe this would jog his memory at last.

  "Of course not. He's fine," said Emmett. He watched the clouds bank up on the horizon, past all the junk piles. Higher and higher they piled.

  I said, "Think back. The zeppelin? There was an accident, and Te
ddy . . ."

  "He's fine," said Emmett. "I can see him. He's right over there."

  I spun around to see a young, tawny-haired boy, about five years old, playing in the cloud bank. He lined up toy soldiers and horses, placing a toy bear in command. Then he blew his tiny bugle, "Too-de-too-de-too!" and to my shock, the brigade of toys started marching.

  "I guess the Lexiverse really is merged with the junkyard, if he can do that!" I said.

  "It must be fun for him to play here. He can finally get his brigade to really march," said Emmett, smiling fondly at his younger brother.

  Teddy approached us and saluted. He guiding his marching toys in our direction. "Hi, Emmett!" he called in a happy voice. "Want to play with me?"

  Little Teddy spread his hands out like a conductor, arms held wide. "Emmett! Watch this!" The brigade set to fighting one another, soldiers in hand-to-hand combat, the toys spearing each other with bayonets. In moments, only the bear stood, next to several toy horses that had run away from the play carnage.

  Emmett approached cautiously, eyeing the scene. "Why'd you do that? Don't attack your own soldiers. Make an enemy to fight against."

  Teddy stuck his lip out at this criticism from his older brother. Then his face brightened.

  "YOU be the enemy!" Teddy shouted. From the clouds marched a large brigade of camo-dressed toy soldiers, followed by tanks, helicopters, and bomber planes. "Let's play!"

  "Teddy, I'm not here to play war games. My friend and I are searching for something I lost," said Emmett, reaching for my hand. "Something I hid."

  I turned to look at him. "Do you remember something? Do you know where it is? That thing you hid."

  Emmett whispered in my ear, "Don't tell Teddy where it is. Promise?"

  "I promise," I said. I was getting excited. My plan was working! If he found what he hid, it should help him to remember.