Serpent Cursed (Lost Souls Series Book 2)

by Bree Moore

  A natural vent in the ground off-gassed behind him and Tyson jumped, shrieking at the heat scalding the back of his legs. He stumbled down the mountainside and away from the peak, rocks stabbing his feet and sliding out from beneath his steps. He landed hard on his behind.

  A high-pitched cackling echoed over the blackened slope. “That’s not how it’s done, is it?” A lanky-armed, long-legged figure leapt to the top of the boulder at the peak. Its pockmarked face gleamed with flecks, like the shining mica or quartz bits found in common rocks. It could have been human, once, but the face was too wide, the eyes narrow like a cat’s, the ears stretched and floppy. It seemed to have all the right parts in all the wrong proportions.

  “Is your name chaos, by chance?” Tyson muttered, more to himself than to the being.

  “I’m offended. My name is Lars. I’m your guide.” Lars bowed.

  “Who sent you?”

  “No one sent me. I have a job here and I do it.” Lars wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something bad. “Yeesh, nosy. Maybe you want to listen for me a moment before offending me. We are standing on an active volcano. Due for an eruption any moment.”

  Tyson cocked his head and scanned the boulder. “How can you tell? There’s no seismic activity.”

  The being swung its arms and twisted its mouth into a mocking expression. “‘There’s no seismic activity.’” The voice that came out of its mouth sounded exactly like Tyson’s.

  Tyson blinked at the being.

  Lars rolled his eyes. “Listen Mr. Earth Science, let me tell you how this works. You have to get down this mountain and to the nearest village. The kicker is,” the being sprung off the boulder, mouth split as wide as it would go in some version of a grin, “you’ll be blind.”

  A steam vent erupted between them as soon as the words were spoken and Tyson stupidly looked down. Instead of steam, however, this time it was a black cloud. It coated his eyes and sealed his eyelids shut. Tyson’s hands grabbed at his face, fingers probing where the black smoke had touched. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t seem damaged in any way, and in fact, he could still pry open his eyelids with both hands peeling back the folds of skin, but his eyes could no longer see anything other than darkness.

  “What did you do to me?” Tyson yelled. “What gives you the right?”

  “I told you, this is my job.” The disembodied voice floated from Tyson’s right. “The sight you rely on most has been stripped from you. Learn to rely on other senses.”

  Tyson turned toward the speaker, hands and jaw clenched. The mountain rumbled below his feet, enough to jostle, but not upset. “What was that?”

  “Your seismic activity. Are you coming?” The voice sounded farther away now, as if the being were moving.

  “Do you at least have a name?” Tyson held his arms out in front of him as he took his first steps downward on the steep slope. “I can’t keep calling you ‘the being’ in my head.”

  “Nicer than some things I’ve been called. You mortals are so forgetful. I introduced myself already, don’t you remember?”

  Tyson scanned his memories, still trying to keep his breathing even. The smell of sulfur burned into his nose and down to his lungs, making it hard to concentrate. Had it gotten stronger?

  The being sighed. “Lars. It’s Lars.”

  “And you’re a guide, Lars? How do I follow you without my sight? If you’re about to say by sound, we’d better think of a different plan.” His mouth felt dry. He swallowed, but he couldn’t bring the moisture back. His palms, ironically, were sweaty.

  “You have an inner sight. You’re meant to learn how to use it.”

  “So is this a simulation or…”

  “The volcano is real. This is your body. If you do something foolish, you will die. If you do not learn to use your inner sight, you will die.” The mountain quivered again, nearly knocking Tyson off his feet.

  Tyson grimaced and rubbed his hands together. He didn’t sign up for this, but it appeared he didn’t have a choice. It put a whole new spin on the idea of ‘trial by fire.’

  “Follow me!” Lars sounded far too cheerful. It also sounded as if he had started running.

  Tyson took several jogging steps forward, mentally trying to reach outside of himself, to extend his ‘sight’ beyond the darkness his physical eyes were smothered in.

  Every step spiked Tyson’s adrenaline. Without even trying, his pace increased. The pull of the slope brought his feet down with jarring thuds. He stepped on a rock and yelped.

  “Open those eyes, dreamwalker.” The voice had shifted to the left.

  But I’m not a dreamwalker. I’m human. I can’t do magic. It’s the knife. Tyson focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He turned to the left, matching what he thought he heard.

  “Not that way, idiot,” Lars growled. His voice burst out in Tyson’s face, clearly on his right. “The sound bounces off the rocks and echoes strangely here. You need to open that third-eye. Didn’t you learn anything?”

  “No one appeared to teach me, if that’s what you’re asking. This is the first I’m hearing about all of this!” The mountain heaved, and a massive boom shot through the air.

  “There she blows!” Lars screamed. He grabbed Tyson’s arm. “You have one minute, then I’m letting go.”

  “What happened?”

  “Volcano top released. We’ve got toxic smoke and ash raining down on us and fiery balls of death flinging from the mountain’s mouth. If we don’t run, we’re both dead.”

  “You can die?”

  Lars made an indecisive noise. “Well, no, but I thought it might make you feel better if I implied that we were in this together. I do get in trouble if you don’t make it, though. Don’t get any dumb ideas. Also, stay calm.” His footsteps told Tyson he’d taken off running again.

  Stay calm?! Well, that’s simple enough. Tyson breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. He counted to five and took off jogging. He didn’t have the senses developed for this. He relied on his eyes to show him where he was going, and his feet were clumsier than usual as a result. There was no feedback telling him where he needed to place his feet.

  And none of his psychology knowledge was helping. He had dozens of tools for helping paranormal clients visualize to improve their lives, but none of them seemed appropriate right now. He physically couldn’t see, not just figuratively.

  Picture the end result the way you want it. A common phrase he had used time and again. It felt pathetic now, but as fear crept through his limbs, stilting his stride, Tyson knew he had to try. The way I want it. Unharmed. Or, whole, at least. And… In his mind’s eye, he saw the Alaskan wilderness. And Becca standing there, smiling, and Quinn next to her. And next to him, Harper. With her brown eyes that were always charged with determination, her ebony wings flaring out from her narrow shoulders, and her smile… well, that was different. She rarely smiled around him, but in this visualization, she beamed as if seeing Tyson was something she had waited for, even anticipated.

  Tyson’s foot caught a stone and sent him skidding and rolling several yards. Blood trickled down his face from a sharp point of pain on his forehead. He’d received a cut, not to mention dozens of bruises on his limbs and ribs. He groaned and lay face-down, listening to the mountain rumble beneath him. A flare of pain burned in his back. Had an ember struck him? He didn’t bother touching it to see if his back had burned. He squeezed his eyes, then widened them as far as they would go, feeling the uselessness of it all. Silly dreams wouldn’t help him succeed at this impossible task. He couldn’t go any farther like this.

  It’s like dreaming. Open your inner eye.

  The male voice sounded vaguely familiar to Tyson, but he couldn’t put his finger on who it would be.

  How could he dream while awake? He went limp and let his mind wander. It wasn’t easy amidst the ground shaking and Lars running up, yelling his name. A red-hot pain seared between his shoulder blades, yankin
g him out of his nearly-relaxed state. He bit back a yell and breathed in and out rapidly until the pain dulled. He let his breathing fall into a rhythm, in time with his heartbeat, in time with the pulsing throbs from the points behind his elbow, ankle, and back.

  A click resounded in his mind, and his breathing shifted, becoming less forced. His mind drifted until it aligned with his subconscious mind, and an expanding sensation filled his head.

  Tyson opened his inner eye and Saw.

  At first the image made no sense. A jumble of angles and curves, swirling with color.

  “You’re about to be swallowed up, my man!” Lars shouted.

  Tyson focused on the bobbing image that seemed to be the creature’s face and his vision cleared. The facial features never settled fully, which was dizzying, but he could see. The mountain around them, rivulets of lava flowing down narrow crevices around where Tyson lay on a more raised portion of the mountain.

  Tyson reached a hand out to Lars, who took it without question. He grinned at Tyson, who nodded, and the two took off down the path, a path that to Tyson’s inner vision glowed blue. Could Lars see it? Or had he taken the path enough times to know it was the right one?

  The heat barely touched Tyson now. Geometric shapes appeared in the smoke-filled sky and the red-hot lava, shifting, changing, warping Tyson’s vision. But if he kept his eyes on the sapphire-lit path, he had no trouble keeping his feet.

  Ahead, Lars dodged a flaming boulder that bounced past them and rolled down the mountain, setting fire to the tree line ahead. “Is there anyone who might bear you ill will, by chance? A jilted lover, a sworn enemy?”

  “Why do you ask?” Tyson hollered. He racked his brain. Possibly some clients he had pissed off from his time at Camp Silver Lake. But more than likely, if anyone hated him enough to cause turbulence in his subconscious, it was…

  A symbol shaped like a fox flashed briefly across Tyson’s vision, like those bright spots he saw when he stared at the sun and closed his eyes. A figure stood at the cliff edge that marked the end of the path Lars and Tyson ran down. Her red hair streamed behind her as if made of living flame. Tyson’s feet slowed.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, no stopping. That’s a rule, remember?” Lars slowed briefly before wheeling his gangly arms and legs harder to regain momentum.

  “You didn’t tell me about any rules except don’t get killed,” Tyson murmured. He pointed. “Who is that?”

  Lars looked at Tyson as if he’d lost his mind. “If you’re seeing people, this is about to get worse.”

  Tyson looked again. The woman was still there. He hadn’t expected to see anyone other than James or Violet. As soon as he thought of them, they were there, standing next to the woman with the flaming hair. They came forward first. The forms they wore now were somehow different than what they’d been in life. Tyson took a subconscious step backward.

  “We should run straight through and ignore them,” Lars said to Tyson, eyeing the images warily.

  “Are they hallucinations?” Tyson asked.

  “Er, no. I don’t think they qualify as that. Here, they could kill you.”

  Violet’s hair flowed behind her, and her feet floated above the ground as she came forward. “Tyson Miller, you will have blood on your hands.”

  “I didn’t kill you,” Tyson shot back. “You tried to kill me, if you remember!” He didn’t know if this spirit, or whatever she was, if she would remember.

  The spirit cocked her head and let out a throaty laugh. James’ masculine chuckle joined her.

  “Oh no, this isn’t about us. But we are tied to it, and therefore we are here,” James said. He and Violet floated aside in concert, gesturing toward the young woman with the fiery hair.

  Tyson blinked.

  Lars nudged his side. “We go now.”

  “But that’s…” He swallowed. “Reya?”

  The woman turned a fiery gaze on him. She held something that glinted in the dim light of the flaming mountain. She tossed it at him.

  Tyson fumbled the catch at the medallion-like object rolled away from him. Without thinking, he took off after it.

  “Stay on the path!” Lars yelled, just as Tyson’s foot left the sparkling blue line that marked the path he was supposed to take.

  The mountain blew again with a thunderous crack. The rumbling through Tyson off his feet. He slithered on his belly toward the coin, which glinted innocently a few feet away. His fingers scrabbled in the dirt and he managed to grasp the coin. A ‘V’ shape was raised on the worn brass surface of the coin. He turned to face Reya. The mountain was blank where she had stood. James and Violet stared at him without moving.

  Tyson held up the coin. “What does it mean?”

  “It won’t matter if you die here.” Lars hauled him up by the arm and dragged him back to the path. “From my experience, we have exactly one minute before the village is destroyed, and us with it.”

  Tyson clenched the coin inside his fist and pumped his arms and legs. His steps were out of control fast, skidding and slipping over rocks and ledges. The ridged edges of the coin bit into his skin, but he couldn’t think about it now, or what it could mean. His lungs burned with smoke and exertion. Ahead, through the sparse trees, he saw lean-tos and smaller fires. The villagers sat peering out of the entrances of their tents, staring toward Tyson and Lars. They didn’t move. It was as if they didn’t see the mountain spitting fire from its peak.

  Tyson waved his arms. “Run!”

  “They cannot. You must protect them.”

  Why? Tyson’s mind screamed the thought. Why me? He couldn’t protect anyone. Not Fletcher, not Violet and James, not Harper. Not even himself. Who had thought it a good idea to put him in charge of a whole village?

  He gazed into their faces, sweat pouring down his brow. Rivers of lava flowed past him faster than he could run, curving around him, then in toward each other to meet in front of him. He wasn’t going to make it in time, but he had to try.

  The lava met and pooled into a thicker stream that spilled in the direction of the village. The people watched it coming with wide eyes, holding children close, not a single sound escaping any of them.

  Tyson closed his eyes, which did nothing to block his inner sight, and jumped.

  He soared in an arc, and for a moment his vision split and he saw from two perspectives—one from his own perspective, high in the air, higher than he’d ever jumped before, somehow defying the law of gravity, the laws of his own biophysics. The second was that of someone watching him from the village, his face set in determination, his eyes shut tight, his feet angling to land. Despite the filth on his arms, body, and face, Tyson cut an epic image. Something he might have seen on a movie poster.

  Then he landed. Rocks spewing, dirt filling his eyes and mouth, forearms, chest and knees scraping the surface of the mountain. He laid face down and waited for the lava to reach his legs and burn him alive.

  Instead, a buzzing sound filled his ears, and the silence was broken by the whoops and hollers of the people who were emerging from their tents, clapping and leaping into the air. His eyes blinked open and the geometric patterns faded. His real sight was back.

  The peoples’ faces and forms changed. Tyson recognized past clients, friends, family—including his parents with tears streaming down their faces. Even Becca and Harper stood in the midst of them.

  Tyson sat up, bewildered. A vivid blue dome, like a force-field, surrounded the village. Lava poured around it, an orange-red river that hadn’t touched a single tent or being within the circle.

  A less-familiar, but still-smiling face emerged from the crowd. His face glittered with tiny rainbows, and his lanky arm reached down to pull Tyson up.

  “How are all these people here?” Tyson asked.

  “Oh, they aren’t really here. But this is how they would feel if they were, I assure you. A fabrication of the test to celebrate your accomplishment. I’m supposed to tell you two things now: t
he first is, you are not finished here. Clearly, your life has more purpose and meaning than this moment. And second, by surpassing the barriers in your mind to achieve what you have today, you’ve unlocked a number of abilities, only a fraction of which you’ve discovered. You may be surprised by some of them. But do not worry, a guide will be sent to you to help you on your path.”

  “It won’t be you, then?” Tyson asked. After everything they’d been through on this mountain, he hoped…

  Lars shook his head. “No, I have a job already. I’m flattered, though.” And the man winked before loping off and disappearing through the force field. Tyson could barely see his outline as he waded through the pooling lava outside.

  The crowd around them grew sparse as, one by one, the people Tyson knew and had known blinked out of existence. His parents, Harper, and Becca were last, in addition to a red-haired little girl standing at the edge of the protective force field. As soon as Tyson spotted her, the little girl faded. Why was he seeing Reya? Was this some manifestation of his guilt over her death, or was he supposed to be gaining some new understanding?

  His hand cramped and he opened it, looking at the worn coin he held. The ‘V’ stared back at him.

  “Are you what comes next?” he muttered to himself.

  When he looked back up again, the figure of Harper stood alone in the center of the clusters of lean-tos. Her wings flared, flapping twice as if to get his attention, and then she pointed down.

  A rift stood open in the earth at her feet, just wide enough for a person. Tyson approached her. He looked down, and a faint blue glow emanated from the depths. He drew in a breath.

  “Am I supposed to go in there?” Tyson took in Harper’s face. It was hard to believe this wasn’t her. She looked so real. His hand reached up automatically, touching her cheek. It felt real enough. But the real Harper would have never smiled at his touch the way this image of her did. He let his hand drop. The image blended into the air and disappeared like the others.

  Tyson squeezed the coin tight in his fist and knelt down, putting a hand on either side of the crack and sliding his legs into the opening. His feet met nothing but air. He couldn’t see whether there was a ledge he was meant to land on, or if he had to drop and trust. His arms trembled as he hesitated. He took one last look around at the village and the shield he’d somehow created to protect people he thought were strangers. He wanted to sit and ponder the meaning of everything that had happened so far, but the next part of this test awaited him.