“There’s pizza in the kitchen,” Zara says without looking up. “The boys are in there too. Kyran’s been waiting to show you some stuff.”
“Thanks.” I drop my bag by the door, careful not to move my still tender arm, and head for the kitchen. The lab report can wait.
The three guys are all discussing something when I walk in and don’t notice me, so I grab a few slices of pizza before making my way over to them. “Find anything useful yet?”
Kyran looks up and grins. “Come here. We’re close to figuring out what you are.”
“What I am,” I grumble. “That makes me sound like an alien or something.” Ghost girl I can handle. Alien? I draw the line at being referred to as a what.
Tugging me closer, Kyran says, “You know what I mean. Get over here.”
Malachi has a pen poised over one of Lucy’s mishmash of symbols. The drawings are all hasty and lacking any artistic talent, but several of them have labels now…or comments anyway.
“We started with the Egyptian symbols first, since that’s what I’ve been studying most. The FBI translator’s notes helped quite a bit…kinda. Anyway,” he says, pointing to a symbol from his chart that is also on Lucy’s drawing. “There are a few different components to this hieroglyph. They don’t seem to have been put together like this anywhere else. Just the ferryman’s book. The notes, though, helped me figure out some of the parts.”
Kyran pushes the paper aside, for some reason, and searches for another paper. Once he finds it, he slaps it down on top of the mess. I’m not sure what to make of it at first. The leopard print the hieroglyph woman is wearing isn’t really my style, but it’s her headdress that’s most unusual. “Is that a marijuana leaf on her head?”
Chuckling, Malachi says, “That’s what I thought it was, too.”
Holden rolls his eyes. “It’s the top of a papyrus plant. You know, the stuff they made paper out of?”
If that’s supposed to explain anything…it doesn’t. Kyran must realize that. “This is Seshat, the goddess of wisdom, knowledge, and writing. That’s where the paper comes into play. She’s also a funerary goddess who keeps the memories of the dead alive.”
Now that is interesting. I pull out the chair next to Kyran and sit down. I pull the sheet of Lucy’s symbols toward me. In the hieroglyph group Kyran thinks refers to me, it doesn’t show the whole image of Seshat, but the headdress is there—though it looks more like a Christmas star under a dome than a pot leaf in the simplified drawing. The papyrus frond is only part of the whole hieroglyph, though.
“So what about the rest of these. The Ankh I recognize, but I don’t know what it has to do with Seshat.”
Holden leans forward. “The Ankh means life, as you know, so we think the combination of Seshat and the Ankh has something to do with bridging the gap between life and death and might possibly have something to do with preserving knowledge during that transition.”
“Like I’m supposed to be preserving their knowledge?” I ask. “That doesn’t seem to be something I can do. I’m sure I’d have a way easier time getting through my classes if I were absorbing ghosts’ knowledge.” I really wish that was the case right about now.
“There’s got to be more to it,” Kyran says, “but we’re still working on it. There’s one more symbol in the hieroglyph we haven’t quite figured out yet. Maybe it’ll make things a little clearer.”
We can only hope.
“What about these other drawings she did?”
Malachi sighs. “These are the Reiki symbols for true memory, power and protection, and energy clearing, all clumped together, but what they all mean together? Who knows?”
“Same with the Celtic symbols. We’ve got the Awen for balance and divine illumination, the Tree of Life, and the Triskele for unity between mental, physical, and spiritual,” Holden says. “It’s the same with most of these, symbols from all over the world, linked in ways they aren’t usually, and all pointed toward similar but not the same ideas.”
I munch on my pizza as I think about that. Life, spirit, knowledge, balance, protection…did they all boil down to a single concept—a single purpose—or are they just a list of all the impossible things I’m supposed to be capable of doing. If they’re even referring to me in the first place. Kyran could totally be wrong about that. He probably isn’t…unfortunately.
“Well, I guess we better get back to it,” I say.
So we do.
Three hours later, Griffin joins the party. He gets the stink eye from me before settling in to help with the research. We’ll talk later—which I think he knows. I’m contemplating taking a break to get started on my lab report when my phone rings. It takes a few seconds to find where it’s been buried beneath random papers and books, but when I see Mrs. Bridger’s number pop up on the screen I answer the call quickly.
“Is everything okay?” I ask before she can say anything.
“Yes, it’s fine,” she replies. “Agent Morton just told me to let you know any time Timothy falls asleep. His stomach was hurting, so I kept him home from school, and he just dozed off while watching cartoons. It doesn’t mean he’ll go into the Field of Reeds, but I wanted to let you know…just in case. We’d both feel horrible if you were hurt again.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Bridger. I’m home doing research, so I should be fine even if he pulls me in.”
“And Malachi?”
“He’s here too.”
She sighs in relief. “Oh good. After what happened, I’m terrified he’s going to pull one of you in while you’re driving and cause a head on collision or something.” She exhales slowly, her breath quivering as she does. “He said you were able to come and go on your own last time. Can you teach him? I’m afraid it will take him too long to learn to control this and he or someone else will get hurt.”
“I can try,” I say uncertainly. I barely know what I’m doing when I leave, and I’m still not totally sure how I got there in the first place. That was pure accident. I don’t tell her that, though. She’s already stressed out enough as it is. “Morton said he’s trying to locate someone who can teach him, too. He knows a lot of intuitives and people with weird abilities. We’ll do everything we can to help him, I promise.”
She sounds like she’s trying not to cry when she speaks. “Thank you, Echo.”
I don’t really feel worthy of her gratitude, so I just say, “We’ll figure this out.”
I end the call soon after and toss the phone back down. Suddenly, I want to take a nap too. Then I think…maybe I should. This isn’t a normal time for Timothy to be in the Field of Reeds. He tends to end up there any time he falls asleep, so there’s a good chance he will, but if there isn’t any danger he might not call me in. If this is an unusual time for him to be in there, maybe the Devourers won’t be expecting him. We might get a little more accomplished if we’re not dodging those creeps every five minutes.
When I look up, Griffin is watching me. “You’re going in?”
He phrases it as a question, but I have a feeling he knows he’s right. Yeah, we are definitely having a nice long conversation after this. “Yeah, if I can. I figure the Devourers might leave us alone for a while if they aren’t expecting us.”
Malachi stands. “Can you take me in, too?”
“I don’t know. I’m not even sure I can get myself back in. If I do get to the Field of Reeds and I can’t take you, I’ll have Timothy pull you in.”
He nods, but doesn’t sit back down. I don’t particularly want to have to lay in bed with Malachi on the off chance I’ll be able to bring him into the Field of Reeds with me. I’m not sure there’s any room on the couch, though. Cerise and Zara had it covered when I was in there earlier. Great.
“Well, let’s go then.” One of these days my life is going to be less weird.
They all stand, even though I was really only talking to Malachi. “Guys, I’m never going to be able to fall asleep with an audience like this.”
“I don’t think you need
to fall asleep,” Kyran says. “You just have to meditate. You weren’t asleep last night when you went there.”
“I wasn’t? How could you tell?”
He shrugs. “You were breathing normally, then boom, fell right into a meditative pattern and your entire body relaxed.”
“Oh, well, okay.” I frown, as I consider what he said more thoroughly. Plenty of therapists and psychiatrists over the years tried to get me to meditate the ghosts away. Clearly that didn’t work, but despite all the forced practice, I’ve never been very good at meditating on my own. Clearing my mind has never been easy. I doubt I’ll be any better at it now.
“Want me to guide you through it?” Kyran asks. When I look over at him, surprised even though I know I shouldn’t be, he offers me a lopsided smile. “Aunt Aurelia taught me, my dad too. Made us do it together every night after she moved in hoping it would keep my dad in line.”
“Did it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Kinda, in some ways. In others, not so much.”
Malachi seems surprised by his friend speaking openly about his family. Kyran rarely even mentions them, let alone gives up private details. Thankfully, he seems glad for the change rather than upset.
“Sure, if you don’t mind,” I tell Kyran. The chances that I’ll either fall asleep or meditate my way in on my own are pretty slim.
“Holler if you need anything,” Griffin says before sitting back down. Malachi and Holden follow his lead, though more slowly.
I jump in surprise when Kyran takes my hand, but he’s towing me toward my room before I can say anything about it. “Bed or floor?” he asks when we reach my room.
Hesitation makes me slow to answer. Being on my bed again with Kyran is dangerous. Falling into a trance and whacking my head on the floor sounds unappealing as well. I’ve had more than enough injuries for the present. Sighing, I say, “The bed, I guess.”
Kyran snorts. “Don’t sound so excited.”
I ignore him and sit on the bed with my legs crossed. He joins me, sitting so he’s looking directly at me, and holds his hands out for mine. I doubt hand holding is strictly necessary, but I could use a reassuring touch right now. I take his hands and exhale. My eyes close a moment later and I try to remember what various shrinks taught me about meditation. It’s been a while since I’ve made the attempt.
“What breathing pattern do you prefer?”
“Um, I don’t know. I usually just count, but it doesn’t seem to work very well.”
“Okay, let’s try abdominal breathing then. It’s more active and forces you to focus a little more.” He withdraws his hands from mine, then says, “Lie down. It’ll be easier that way.”
So he says. I keep my grumbling to myself and lay back. Lying down next to him is not going to help my concentration. At all.
Maybe he’s reading my mind, because instead of lying down with me, he stays sitting but scoots in next to me. I think this is probably better, safer, until he presses his hands to my rib cage. I freeze, not sure what he’s doing but liking the feel of his hands on me way too much.
“Now, you want your middle fingertips together, just barely touching, right below your sternum,” Kyran instructs. “When you take a deep breath in, expand your abdomen as you breathe…” He waits for me to do it, then continues. “Feel how your rib cage opens and the tips of my fingers separate?”
I nod, wondering if he’ll let me try it again before he pulls away. I wasn’t terribly worried about my appearance this morning and only threw on a sports bra under my t-shirt. I don’t think he realizes how his thumbs are brushing against me, but I’m having a really hard time not thinking about it right now.
“Echo, did you hear what I just said?” Kyran asks.
My eyes flutter open and I stare at him blankly. Clearly that’s answer enough.
“Should we try a different pattern?” he asks.
“This one’s fine,” I say, swallowing my embarrassment. “It just might work better if you’re not touching me like this.”
Kyran’s lips part, then press closed again. “Yeah,” he says, “you’re probably right.” The corner of his mouth turns up, but he purposely looks away. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I wasn’t exactly complaining.
Kyran chuckles nervously and scoots back from me so we’re no longer touching. “Try again?”
I nod and take a deep breath. Once my hands are in position, I focus solely on what my breath is doing and whether or not my fingertips are separating. Stray thoughts try to creep in, but I force myself to focus harder—to not think about Timothy yet, or Lucy, or how Kyran is still within reach. I’m sure I’ve been lying here at least an hour before that strange, peaceful feeling settles in. It’s such a rare thing for me, it feels weird, almost creepy. The emptiness of thought is disorienting. I’ve got to be one of the only people in the world whose skin crawls at the feeling of clam. Such is my life.
Once I settle into the feeling enough that it no longer feels as though someone were watching me, I think back to last night when I accidentally took myself into the Field of Reeds. As soon as the thought forms, so does the memory. It’s super weird and nearly makes me lose my focus. I hold on, barely, and let the memory replay in my mind. Getting home required thinking of Kyran and the peace being with him inspires. Leaving the living world requires the need for refuge, for what the Field used to be before the Devourers began destroying it.
I let my thoughts center, not on the forest I’m used to seeing when Timothy pulls me in, but on the blank greyness of the world I visited last night. Seeing Timothy’s version was helpful in understanding the lore we were dealing with. Seeing no version at all leaves the spiritual plane bare of hiding places and bare of masks. Those are the expectations I form in my mind as I imagine myself moving between realms of existence.
28: All That’s Left
(Echo)
It worked. It actually worked!
I glance around in surprise. The grey nothingness is a comfort this time. There are no trees or hills or caves to obscure the approach of a Devourer. It won’t help Timothy see them, but I’ll be able to give us some warning, at least. Considering the Devourers, I immediately wish Malachi were here, which reminds me I’m supposed to try to pull him in. Not exactly sure where to start with that, I simply focus on him like I did in trying to get here.
I get nothing.
Well, not nothing. I do feel something, some presence, but it’s here in this plane. They’re here in this plane. There’s more than one, I realize. Panic begins to creep into my mind, but I do my best to hold it off for just a little while. The spots of life I feel aren’t dangerous. At least, they don’t feel dangerous. I can’t really explain that. It is what it is, though, and I decide to trust it.
Forgetting trying to reach Malachi for the time being, I turn toward the nearest pinpoint of life and walk in that direction. The sensation grows slightly stronger the closer I get. It’s vague no matter what, but there is enough of a change that I can tell I’m heading in the right direction. My sense of time is as nonexistent as the scenery in this place, so I have no idea how long I walk before I see something. A lump. A little dark bump in the otherwise drab expanse. I can’t quite tell what it is, but I move a little faster. When I get close enough to tell it’s a little rear end sticking up from a balled up little boy, I run.
“Timothy,” I call out as I near him. “Timothy, it’s Echo.”
He lifts his head from where he had it hidden in his arms and stares at me. “You did it again.”
“I did,” I say proudly. “Your mom said you fell asleep so I came in to make sure you were okay.”
Sighing in relief despite not seeing any signs of Devourers nearby, he scrambles forward awkwardly and climbs to his feet. Half a second later he throws his arms around me. “I hate being here alone. It used to be really nice, but now…”
I know he must see the dying, black trees and the frightening darkness that were once a beautiful forest. Hugging hi
m close, I say, “I bet it’ll go back to being like that once we get rid of the monsters.”
He sighs. “I hope so.”
“Speaking of monsters, have you seen any since arriving?”
Timothy shakes his head. “No, I just found that tree to hide under and stayed there.” He frowns and looks up at me. “How’d you find me? The branches went all the way to the ground and I didn’t think anyone would see me there.”
“I can’t see the trees,” I tell him. “It’s all empty and grey. I can only see you right now. Nothing else.”
“How’d you come in so close to me? I can’t control where I arrive. Can you?”
Honestly, I have no idea, since everything looks the same. I have what’s probably a more useful answer, anyway. “I could feel where you were.”
He considers this for a moment. “That’s super weird. I can’t feel you. I thought I was the only one who could feel stuff like that. Can you feel the souls? Can you help me find them?”
I have to think about that for a moment. I did feel multiple spots of life when I first arrived, but now I realize it’s not a bunch of other blips on my spiritual radar. It’s one. “There’s one other person or soul or whatever that I can feel, but that’s it.”
Worry crowds in as I wonder if we’re too late. Is there only one soul left in this entire place? That can’t be, right? The Devourers have eaten a lot of souls, but surely not that many.
“There’s more souls than just one,” Timothy says. That’s a huge relief, but also confusing. He seems to think so as well. “If I’m feeling lots of souls really far away, but you can only feel one…are the others just too far away for you to feel or is it…” His voice trails off as his thoughts pull together. Suddenly, his eyes widen. “What if it’s my dad, Echo? He’s not like the other souls. He’s different!”
The Ghost Host: Episode 2 (The Ghost Host Series) Page 24
