02 Awaken-The Soulkeepers

by Adams, Lori

  When we stop for a break, I lean forward, bracing my hands on my knees, panting. Chang`e is instructing but I’m not listening. I have a strong sensation that something is wrong. I stand up and look around. The others are watching and chatting among themselves. No one is concerned. Not even Michael, who has taken up his power stance with arms crossed and eyes drilling into me.

  You didn’t go to the dance either.

  I snap out of it and resume fighting. We move across the field, over the ground where Michael and the candidates killed that beast. Chang`e hurls herself in the air and comes down with a hard blow. She makes a solid hit against my shield that sends me reeling. I roll across the meadow and skid to a stop. She is relentless, whirling through the air, end over end like a possessed cheerleader. I jump aside and she comes down where I had just been laying. She pounces, and we summersault twice before crashing sideways. I’m flailing, distracted.

  “Stop!” I yell before she strikes again. We’re breathing heavily, but Chang`e tells me not to stop, to fight. Always fight.

  I look toward the barn door. Something is wrong. Is it Bailey? Somehow, I have the overwhelming feeling that Bailey is in trouble. Serious trouble.

  I climb to my feet and march across the meadow. “I have to go.”

  Chang`e is on my heels. “You have to practice, Sophia. Whatever you’re after, don’t go. You’re not ready.”

  She’s right, of course. Haven’t I already proven that tonight? But I can’t stop. Something deep inside me is calling, propelling me to keep walking.

  I pass Michael and say, “Bailey is in trouble,” but he frowns and shakes his head. Michael doesn’t sense that anyone is in trouble. I hesitate at the door. If Michael doesn’t feel it, then why do I? I look back at everyone staring at me. I’m the only one reacting to the jarring sensation that my friend is in trouble.

  Michael says, “Don’t go,” but I walk out and slam the door.

  * * *

  The roads surrounding the town square have been blocked by decorations, so I park the jeep on the shoulder and climb down. My destination is the courthouse. I understand that the third floor has been converted into a glamorous ballroom for the dance. If Bailey is in trouble, that’s where she’ll be. I’ll just have to sneak in so no one recognizes me.

  I pass the library and make it as far as the ice-skating rink on the courthouse lawn when I sense evil behind me. I stop and gradually turn around, raking my eyes over the square. With the dance well under way, the town is empty and quiet, like the inside of a freezer. Nothing moves.

  But I’m not wrong. There is something out there. I move cautiously across the street, making my way between the Russianized gazebo and St. Basil’s Cathedral. The lights are on but they cast creepy shadows all around me. Snow crunches beneath my boots, making a racket in the stillness of the night. I stop in the center of the park and try to settle my fear. Bailey is in trouble. Perhaps a lesser demon got her?

  I check the rooftops. They are empty for the first time in weeks. I didn’t like the demons up there, and I like it even less now that they’ve vanished.

  Where have they gone?

  The sensation that I’m being watched returns and I spin around, my heart knocking in my chest. I’m trembling. Something moves in the distance and I twitch.

  Don’t be afraid. Not now. Not when Bailey needs me!

  I walk toward the ice palace, to the opening of the long tunnel where the ice sculptures loom. A dark figure emerges at the far end, and I tense and hold my breath. Its head goes up and I hear a whinny.

  My whole body relaxes.

  It’s a freaking horse. Probably got loose from the troika sleighs.

  The horse tosses its head and moves on, clopping lazily through the snow. I walk into the tunnel where the dim back lighting begins to flicker. I stop, as awareness ripples through me. This is the place where I felt someone watching me and Bailey. This is the place that now reeks of evil.

  My scalp prickles with fear, and I know I’ve been tricked. Michael was right. Bailey is not in danger. I am.

  On either side of the tunnel are the ice sculptures that tower over me. I look closely at them for the first time and discover my horror. They appear as murky silhouettes, but now I can distinguish their distinct beastly heads; they are dark creatures encased in the ice. I hear a crackling sound that makes my blood freeze. The evil I sense is coming to life. I backpedal, slipping and falling against ice benches. The largest sculpture grows black in the center and eventually forms a man in a long black coat. Throughout the tunnel, the sculptures pulsate with red light, illuminating tiny fissures that are spreading across the ice like spider webs. They run deep and crack open as the beasts struggle to free themselves from their frozen coffins. They are tall, black beings with flat faces, gaping mouths, and horns that curve around their faces. Hideous creatures with dead eyes.

  Chunks of ice tumble down, and a roar shakes the tunnel as the giant beast in the black coat is freed at last. He steps forward, slowly turns his head, and looks down at me.

  Wolfgang!

  I recognize his black, bottomless eyes, dark hair, and square jaw, but he now has two small horns protruding from his temples. He is part man, part beast; but it’s definitely Wolfgang. His eyes blaze when he sees me, and I scramble away, racing into the square.

  Instinct propels me in the direction of my house, but two lesser demons step from the shadows. Their eyes are solid black, and they carry battered clubs. I spin away, running for the crystal forest. More demons emerge with daggers and swords. I look to the right and more come. They’re not attacking but herding me back to Wolfgang.

  I whirl around to find him slowly making his way from the crumbling tunnel. He and his creatures are kicking blocks of ice out of the way. Wolfgang stops and snarls at me.

  “Nowhere to run this time,” he growls, and I stare in open shock. Wolfgang has fangs, and he snaps at me with some primitive urge. They are made to tear meat. And so is he.

  Panic overwhelms me and I look for help. There is no one. I stumble over the ice, desperate to reach the life-size chess game. I wrestle a spear from the Nutcracker in Russian garb. A lesser demon laughs and comes at me, and I whirl the spear overhead with lightning speed. He lunges, only trying to scare me, but I knock him in the head. He reels away, cursing at me.

  Lesser demons hurl chunks of ice, taunting and hissing. I duck and race for cover between the chess pieces. My cheekbone stings and I touch it, coming away with blood. Demons surround the chessboard, but Wolfgang yells orders that no one is to kill me. He, alone has been given the privilege. He stomps through the game, clawing and smashing and shoving the pieces aside. I scurry next to the king, who is tall and wide. As I flatten myself against him, my hand lands on the crystal dagger at my hip.

  I have my weapons!

  I drop the spear and whip out my dagger with renewed confidence. Lesser demons approach my flank, poking spears at me. They flush me out of hiding, and I jump forward, running across the park. Wolfgang takes off after me. I hear him tearing up the snow just behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see him loping like an enraged silverback. It sends a jolt of fear through me, and I stumble over a chunk of ice that a lesser demon hurls at me. I fall to my hands and knees.

  A moment is all it takes, and I know I’m exposed; I’m an easy target now, and Wolfgang can make the kill. I scramble to my feet as he slides to a stop, fog shooting from his nostrils like a wild beast. He bares his teeth again, inching forward. I’m panting hard and my dagger is shaking in my hand. With lesser demons at my back, I face the worst, and I raise my chin in defiance.

  “Look at you, Wolfgang,” I taunt, because all common sense has bailed on me. “Some great Demon Knight you are. Turned into a monster and sent to kill me, nothing but a small-town girl. I haven’t even graduated high school yet. The Order must think I’m all you can handle these days, huh?”

  He rises to the insult, roaring an ungodly sound that makes the lesser demons cower. His han
ds claw the air while his nails extend into daggers. His face contorts and his eyes—wild with rage—roll in his head and then come around and lock on my dagger. Pulsating blue light radiates from it, and he recognizes its power. In one swift movement, I haul back and throw it at Wolfgang. It slams into his chest, just below the collarbone. He wails in pain. His arms tremble and his hands hover over the weapon but he won’t remove it. He’s afraid to touch it, and so he seizes in agony.

  With Wolfgang writhing in pain, his creatures launch themselves at me. I whip out the pistol crossbows and fire, nonstop, until they stagger and fall. Lesser demons howl like sadistic wolves and race toward me, weapons raised, claws out. I turn 180 degrees, methodically firing at anything moving. I have an endless stream of arrows, but they hurl swords and daggers at me. I duck and take off running for cover in the crystal forest.

  I weave in and around, firing at anything black. Shrieks echo far across the square, and I peer through the trees. Kanati, Chang`e, and their friends are attacking the demons. Kanati moves with unnatural speed, wielding a gunstock war club and a tomahawk. Chang`e slashes her sword, and then throws a moonglow grenade that explodes with dust. It burns the demons like acid. They screech and writhe, dissolving into lumps on the ground.

  Demons are coming out of the woodwork, and I push through the forest to help the hunters. As I clear the trees, Wolfgang leaps through the air, knocking both of us to the ground. The pistol crossbows skid across the ice, out of reach. I’m stunned with sudden pain shooting through my chest. I can’t breathe. Wolfgang rises up and rakes his claws across my legs. I cry out in agony and roll away. Instinct kicks in, and I scramble up, holding out my left hand. The crystal dagger imbedded in Wolfgang’s chest retracts and flies back to me. Then I spin around, gaining momentum, and send it whirling through the air and into his chest again. It slams, dead center, in the place where his heart used to be. He throws his head back, roaring in disbelief. I call to the pistol crossbows lying in the snow. Once secured in my hands, I turn and fire. Over and over, I drive arrows into his torso and arms. He stumbles for cover behind the tallest nesting doll. Lesser demons surround Wolfgang, stopping me from advancing. I lower the pistols, trembling and fighting to catch my breath. My ribs throb and my legs burn like they’ve been severed at the knees. I take a weak step forward. I can’t go on.

  The hunters creep closer. They are crouched and ready for attack. Chang`e’s porcelain face is grave as she stares at me, anticipating my next move. What is my next move? I’m paralyzed with indecision. She gives me a nod of encouragement, and then looks down at my pistols. I understand there is more. They can do more.

  Wolfgang is hiding, but my weapons will answer to my call. My call.

  In that moment, I realize that I’ve forgotten who I am. I’ve forgotten the girl I felt hiding deep inside me when I defended myself against Psycho Steve. I am a spiritual warrior. I am made to destroy evil.

  My spine stiffens, and I turn to the lesser demons and the large nesting doll that stands between me and Wolfgang. Calmly, I raise my crossbows and aim directly at the nesting doll. I fire, causing the lesser demons to flinch. But the arrows whizz in an arc around them and the smiling doll face, disappearing behind it. I hear a loud grunt so I fire more, up and around, and the arrows find Wolfgang because that’s what I’m calling them to do. I continue to pelt him until he staggers into the open and the lesser demons back away in fear. Wolfgang has more than thirty arrows draining his blood but his eyes blaze at me. I holster the pistols and then raise my hand, calling to the dagger still buried in his chest.

  I run at Wolfgang as it flies through the air, glowing with supernatural light. In one continuous motion, I spring off the smallest nesting doll, snatch the dagger from the air, bound off another nesting doll, and come down at him from above. I swing my arm in a wide arc, slashing through his neck. I hit the ground, roll, and slide into a crouch, ready for retaliation. But the strike is fatal, and Wolfgang’s head falls to the ground. His knees buckle, and his body collapses forward, spewing black blood. When the lesser demons see Wolfgang dead and me surrounded by hunters, they back off and fade to nothing.

  Kanati, Chang`e, and the hunters stare at me. No one is more shocked than I am. After all, I’m just a small-town girl. Who knew I could destroy a powerful Demon Knight like Wolfgang?

  Chang`e’s face lights up with a smile. She points, and I look down. My left hand holds the dagger but my right hand is glowing with my Chelsea Light. It’s vibrant indigo and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I suddenly feel as though my strength and my compassion have equalized within me. In my left hand, I hold the means to defend what is righteous. In my right, I hold the purest form of love. This knowledge radiates throughout me, and I finally understand what Rama has been trying to teach me all along—there is balance in the world, and it is righteous and pure.

  I blink and realize that my eyes are not my own but that of the spirit warrior I had glimpsed in the past. She is here and I am her. Slowly, I turn and gaze at my surroundings as though I’ve never truly seen before. Colors and shapes blend and then separate to form detailed objects with pristine clarity. There is a splendid measure of accuracy as everything solid becomes momentarily translucent. The faintest sounds annunciate their intentions with precision. They wash over my skin like a million feathers, surrounding me and then taking flight in a swirl of rich chaos. I look to the night sky, anticipating the oncoming snowflakes that I can hear gently floating from Heaven. They crash against each other, forming new shapes and sticking together where they land. I recognize the natural formation, a primordial purity of all things around me. My innocence falls away, and I am liberated from the cycle of life. I have no more lives to live but this one. It’s overwhelming and far more than I expected to experience. The transcendence brings serenity and order within me. It has brought my Chelsea Light to the surface.

  I lower my chin to find the demon hunters sharing expressions of shock and awe. In the distance are Michael and Raph, walking into the square. Michael has a look of reverent understanding. He knows what has transpired here, and he hesitates the moment my second heartbeat strikes.

  Raph is laughing. He rushes over and grabs me in a fierce hug. “You did it, Sophia! You killed that son of a bitch and got your Chelsea Light.” I laugh, too overcome to speak. Michael stops and frowns down at Wolfgang’s headless body. I don’t understand why he shouldn’t be happy. Isn’t decapitating a demon a good thing?

  A faint sizzling sound rises from Wolfgang’s remains, followed by green smoke that drifts up and around. It quickly dissipates in the wind, and all that’s left is a pile of clothes.

  “Good riddance,” Raph mumbles, and then Chang`e says, “What’s with your hair?” and everybody looks at me. Raph pulls my ponytail over my shoulder; the dreadlocks are glowing indigo. I clutch them and flush with embarrassment. Biting into my smile, I look at Michael, hoping he’ll at least approve of this. But his eyes are wide and his face has gone pale.

  A voice behind me says, “They are special for my wahine,” and I whirl around. Rama is picking his way through the snow and the piles of leftover demon clothes. He has a dopey grin. He understands what’s happened, or maybe he witnessed the whole thing, who knows. All I know is that I’m overcome with gratitude. And since I can’t help myself, I throw my arms around him.

  “Oh, Rama! I have so much to tell you! Something has changed inside me and … and …” I choke up, and my eyes fill with tears.

  Rama fidgets awkwardly, patting my shoulders and trying to hold back his own emotions. He unwinds me from his neck, sniffling and nodding. “Azright. But … save it for the ceremony.”

  I say “What ceremony?” and Raph wails, “You mean you didn’t tell her?” He throws his hands up and shakes his head at my incompetent Ascended Master. He has no patience for it, and wraps an arm around my shoulders. While Raph explains about the official ceremony I’ll be attending later tonight, I watch Michael, wondering what he could possibly
think of me now.

  * * *

  The barn has been transformed into something out of medieval times. Colorful tents are scattered along the perimeter, and people in current fashion stroll among knights in black and gold armor. I recognize them as Halos of the Son.

  A stage has been set up in the center of the meadow with rows of benches and an aisle up the middle. The Halo candidates are lined up at the foot of the stairs, stage left, and will receive their honors before us spirit walkers. Two others have joined me: a guy named Marco from Turkey and a girl called Nayelli from Spain. We’re at the foot of the stairs, stage right, and wait quietly for things to begin.

  I scan the crowd, finding Rama seated among the Patronus family. Even Uncle Pavvo, Aunt Sasha and Milvi are here. Uriel has a bird on his shoulder, and Raph a smile on his face. Michael’s parents must have left the dance early; they’re still dressed in their formal clothes. Seeing their smiling faces, I can’t help but feel a pang of regret. I have no family here. Not even Mom, whom I’ve been searching for on the off chance she might appear. No luck. Of course, Dad, Bailey, and Ka are still at the dance and couldn’t be here anyway. But it would’ve been nice to have someone close to me to witness this most, un-freaking-believable event.

  Kanati and Chang`e have taken seats in the crowd, and wave to me. Chang`e was nice enough to show me the dressing chamber where I changed clothes and washed off the demon blood. I’m wearing brown ankle boots, a brown leather vest that laces up the sides, two leather cuffs laced around my wrists, my black sheath and leg holsters—empty of weapons because they are waiting on the ceremonial table on the stage—and indigo shorts that match the dreadlocks glowing in my hair. My ponytail is high and the center dreadlock wrapped around it like an indigo crown. I’m feeling like anything but a princess. Lethal. Ready.