by Leslie Edens
“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 put 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.
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 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 appeared 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.”
“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. 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. He wore a black trench coat over a T-shirt, 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,” growled Sam.
“No! It would mean we’d be dead!” I said. “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 at 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. 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 blond 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 aimed 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. 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.
