The Lily Harper 8 Book Boxed Set

by HP Mallory

  It was my only plan so I had to go with it. I walked over to the bed and lay down on it and closed my eyes. Gathering every scrap of knowledge I ever recalled about lucid dreaming, I took a deep breath through my nose and exhaled slowly through my mouth. The basics I remembered were simple enough: breathe in through the nose, breathe out through the mouth, lie as still as possible, and focus on the place where you wanted to go. My heart was racing, which made it hard to do the last two steps but I stuck with it.

  Eventually, I heard and felt my heartbeat slowing down. My breathing was also more relaxed and smooth, creating its own rhythm. The awful room around me began to matter less and less as I faded out of consciousness.

  ***

  The area around Fergus Castle looked the same as it always did, heavenly. The grass was a brilliant green, the sky an azure blue and the loch below looked like a mirror reflecting the clear sky above. The sun was sinking lower as if it were the late afternoon but there was plenty of daylight left. The gentle breeze wafting over me made me shiver as I glanced down. The clothes I’d been wearing when I was awake were gone, and I was naked once again.

  I looked around for anyone else and my heart sank when I realized I was truly alone this time. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t here for a social visit but strictly to locate my sword. And that was what I fully intended to do.

  I closed my eyes and called out to my blade, imagining the weight of it in both hands, as well as the sensation of the cold steel.

  When I opened my eyes again, a glint of metal way off in the distance drew my attention immediately. The unmistakable shape of my sword’s hilt was winking at me, using the golden sunlight from above. Overwhelmed with joy, I ran towards it as quickly as my legs could carry me.

  Vines suddenly reached out and wrapped around the blade as the slightly disturbed earth indicated I was standing in the same spot where Tallis and I buried Persephone. It was a little peculiar that I hadn’t seen my sword the last time I was here. Maybe whatever I needed to deal with at Fergus only appeared when it was necessary for me to see it? I shook my head. It didn’t seem important enough that I should try to figure it out right now. No, I simply needed to locate my weapon.

  I grabbed the hilt and pulled but only managed to move it maybe a couple of inches before something stopped me. I tried pulling on the handle again but couldn’t make anymore headway than the last time. What was going on? Didn’t my sword want its freedom? Or was someone or something holding it in the ground?

  I knelt down to take a closer look. The vision I saw reflected in the blade sent me scrambling backwards.

  It couldn’t be!

  But it was. The closer I got, the more I discerned the unmistakable shape of my former body looking back at me. That plain image made me glance down to see if I’d actually reverted back to my old shape. But no, I still occupied the same AE-issued body of feminine perfection.

  The blade began to hum and vibrate. A blue light hit me in the face before my old memories washed over me…

  I saw my date at the senior prom saying that it was better if we were just friends while he tried not to make goo-goo eyes at Crissy Martin, the cheerleader who’d been after him since we started dating…

  I was sitting in Streethorn’s office, panicking over the threat of one hundred years in Shade…

  I was listening to my mother’s nth lecture about how badly I needed to be proactive on the dating scene because she wanted to have grandchildren before she died…

  I was attending my first training session with Tallis, and barely able to swing my new blade, never mind defend myself with it…

  I was eating dinner with Alaire as he showed off his gallery of paintings and insinuated things I preferred not to think about…

  I winced at the rush of chickens smacking into my windshield…

  I felt my fingers on Persephone’s crown at the caretaker’s quarters…

  “Stop!” I screamed.

  It was way too much, all of it. Every buried feeling that was attached to those memories boiled up inside me and threatened to emerge all over again. I hugged my chest and started rocking back and forth, while my breathing grew shallow and ragged.

  But the sword didn’t stop there. It reran those memories like a YouTube video stuck on replay. But what was the point of it? Why rub my face in all of that misery?

  Then it hit me.

  While I was alive, I distracted myself with medieval group activities, too many self-help books and working at my job. When I was sent to the other side, I did the same thing, serving the demands of a Soul Retriever. Both times, I kept telling myself that all I had to do was complete something I really hated before I could finally be happy with the person I was.

  All that made me closer examine the body I’d chosen to occupy. When all was said and done, it was only the last empty promise of happiness the old Lily Harper ever accepted. I looked up at my old body in the sword without a sense of horror or fear. There was actually no real difference between them. Persephone had proven that any physical “perfection” was utterly meaningless. Good looks were not a true reflection of a person’s inner self. They didn’t matter a damn.

  I retained a certain distance while looking at both my old and new bodies when all of that suddenly sank in. Whether I was the living Lily who died in the most ridiculous car accident in human history or the freshly dead one who let her terror con her into taking the worst deal the afterlife had to offer, I was neither of those people anymore. So who or what exactly was I now?

  Another bright light in the distance made me look over the sword hilt. There stood Tallis, his head silhouetted by the low sun and shining like a halo. It was the ideal Tallis smiling at me, the unspoiled Tallis, untouched by his time in the Dark Wood, or with Alaire or any of the thousands of other tortures he took upon himself. My heart ached for him and I wanted to stand up and run into his arms, never to let him go again. But I only managed to rise two inches before he held up his hand and shook his head. Using his raised hand, he pointed at the sword.

  I looked down at the blade’s reflection again. This time, someone else stared back at me. I’d never seen her face before but I felt like I’d known her all my life. Not as plain as I was during my time on Earth but neither was she as jaw-dropping gorgeous as I was now. She was in that perfect sweet spot between them, pretty enough to draw your attention but plain enough to allow you to connect with her. Even as I stared at her, I couldn’t really nail down any other details about her features. I couldn’t even decide on her hair and eye color. But one thing I knew for sure: she was me… the real me.

  I read a lot of Jung, and one special word summed her up: Self.

  I glanced up at Tallis again, only to see he was gone. My heart crashed a little at that. I guess in this place you really did only see the things you needed to.

  As if to underscore that point, the sword changed its humming. The vines clinging to it started to wilt and fall away. The dirt became a darker color. On a hunch, I grabbed the hilt again and pulled the sword out effortlessly as I stood up. This time, the sword slipped free before a blinding blue light blotted everything else out…

  ***

  I woke up gasping, and rose straight up in my bed. I heard a faint hissing in my ears that made me look around. What was making that noise? It stopped and then started up again, the sound going on and off like a skipping CD. After a while, I realized it was actually a voice. It was shushing me and urging me to calm down. That revelation made me relax and I lay my head back down on the pillow.

  Something felt different inside me. Donnchadh was still bubbling up in my subconscious, but someone else had awoken inside there with him. I closed my eyes to see the Self’s face appearing behind my eyelids. It startled me so much I had to open them again. I took a calming breath and closed my eyes again.

  “Can you hear me?” I whispered out loud.

  I didn’t hear any words in return but the feeling I got suggested that the Self—and by extension, my blade—had
heard the answer.

  I probably could have only thought my next question but saying it out loud helped me steady my still-frayed nerves. “Can you tell me where you are?”

  Instantly, another image flashed in front of my face. The trophy room that I suspected was there all along. Everything was displayed from fine jewels to worthless crap, filling the shelves and racks. The stone on the walls indicated it was somewhere in the castle. My vision zeroed in on one rack in particular. Hanging on the lowest peg, I saw my blade, as if it were waiting patiently for me to snatch it up.

  I frowned. Sure, the image was helpful but it didn’t say much about the actual location of the room. “Where is it? Where am I supposed to go?”

  My inner eye remained fixed on the sword in the trophy room, despite my efforts to look elsewhere. I took a second deep breath and decided to rephrase my question while using my thoughts to communicate. What I mean is… I’m here. How far away from you am I?

  Suddenly, the image shifted and I saw my vision moving out through a wall. Before I started moving rapidly through the castle corridors, I caught a glimpse of the room I’d been pulled into. Even though I only saw it for a second, the furniture was impossible to miss. The table and chairs were familiar to me. The vision finally stopped its impromptu tour through the castle. It looked down at me in the bed, only it wasn’t me lying there. The Self, clad in the same tunic I’d been wearing the whole time, rose up from the bed and said her first actual words, “Find me.”

  Those words echoed in my head and my eyes snapped open. While I still didn’t know how to get into that room, I at least had a rough idea of its general location. Now I had to devise a way to convince Alaire to take me there. And I would make my first attempt to do that during dinner.

  I glanced down at my tunic, which was comfortable and comparably modest when it came to fashion choices. But I needed something a little more practical for my next step. I got back onto my feet, throwing the tunic onto the bed. I opened the armoire to see if Persephone had anything to wear that could provide me with some reasonable discretion.

  “For her I keep it, the celestial dame…”

  - Dante’s Inferno

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Bill

  Somehow—and I can’t tell ya how, seeing as angels are pretty easy to spot in Dis—I managed to avoid detectionoise for the entire ride over. But it’s like gettin’ lucky at a card table… sooner or later, the house will take ya for everything ya got. Right now, I just wanted to hang on until I got to Lucky Block Three where the girls said the shop was. ‘Course, one complicaution with that plan was me not knowin’ what the fuck I would do about disembarkuatin’ without bein’ observated.

  My left hand suddenly lost its grip and my right hand didn’t have enough strength to keep doin’ the job all by itself. So, yeah, I flew out into the street, and barely missed collidin’ with some fugly-ass-dude drivin’ what looked like a motorized dirt bike. I had a meat-and bones-grindin’ halt right there on the sidewalk. I prolly looked like something Tido woulda served up to me and Nips for dinner.

  I groaned a little and shook my head. Fuck the pain! Stayin’ on this street was a guaranteed way to lose the game. Cheery thoughts like that got me back on my feet tutti-fruiti sweet. While I was tryin’ to convince myself this wasn’t as bad as the bomb-droppin’ treatment Furiosa gave me, three of Alaire’s Watchers rounded the corner up ahead o’ me. They all stopped cold the second they spotted my poor ass.

  “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I yelled at the top of my lungs while runnin’ the other way down the block. I mean, goddamn it, couldn’t I catch a break here? I didn’t have to worry about Watchers doin’ painful things ta me—their game was in their name—but what they might bring into the picture was freakin’ me the fuck out. My stumpy legs made my little feet slap the pavement the way I’d like to be slappin’ Jenny’s ass, an’ I did a few quick calcu-clusions. Best I could figure, I only had about one to two minutes before they locked the entire block down tighter than my old cell was. And even that seemed more like wishful thinkin’.

  The alley looked safe and clear, so I took another gamble and ducked into it. Another stealth-friendly dumpster was leanin’ against the wall but I wasn’t kiddin’ myself. We were way past the point where dumpsters could keep my sexy angel ass safe. If I wanted to get around the nasfurrier stuff Alaire intended ta put me through, I needed to get inside the nearest unlocked entrance ta one o’ the buildings.

  An’ I figured whatever the hells I had ta do, it had ta be quick. I felt like Cinderfella havin’ ta get home before midnight so my shoes didn’t turn inta pumpkins or whatevs.

  I managed to spot a fair possibility on the wall in the middle of the alley: a rusty vent cover that was bent back far enough to let me slip through. No way Tido or even Nips (okay, maybe Nips) coulda been able to fit through that crack. The rat hole wasn’t much smaller than the prison bars I squeezed through back at the Helliday Inn. Yeah, there was some bonuses to bein’ all svelt.

  “Worked for Solid Snake,” I muttered as soon as I got close enough. I checked both ends of the alley before I tried ta squeeze through. I could hear the patter o’ footsteps around me but nobody saw me yet. My reductified gut gave me a little bit of a hard time but I finally managed to scrape through before the steps got too much closer. And I do mean scrape… a sharp piece of the cover sliced through my shirt and the fuckin’ thing ripped me wide open when I pushed through. I was admarvelin’ my gapin’ flesh wound when I realized there was a lot less ground under my heels than I thought there should be. By that time, I was already topplin’ backwards and fallin’ straight down a shaft behind me. I had to clench my jaw ta keep from screamin’ the whole way.

  I landed with a thud that was only a little less noisy than a shell being shot. Crashin’ in there like that, I was sure my goose was well and truly cooked. Then my sensitible ears picked up something that was even louder than me: laughter. Not a chuckle or two but the out of control guffarts that you’d expect from a peyote party. The racket was comin’ from the other side of a grate I saw ahead of me. It had some orange sodium light spillin’ out of it. After rollin’ onto my gut, I tried to ignore the little signals o’ pain while I crawled up to the grate. That flesh wound was smartin’ but it would be gone pretty soon.

  First thing I saw was the greater imps… or, as I prefers ta call ‘em, the greater assholes. Those big bastards were real hairy. Not like nice dog fur hairy but more like sharp, wiry points of hair. And they also had some mean lookin’ underbites. But nothing could be worse than a greater imp’s personality. They was seriously lackin’ in the kindness department. At present, those glowin’ personalities were takin’ out their anger on some poor sap who was stuck in the middle o’ them.

  I couldn’t get a real good look at the dude, but I’d seen enough ta know that he was definitely a dude. If not for all the blood and bruises those assholes were inflictin’ on his body, he mighta been fairly mansome. But good luck holdin’ onto yo looks when fuckers like them intended ta use ya for their personal piñata. They just batted ‘im around with whatever they had lyin’ around: heavy wrenches, ball-peen hammers, swords. I even saw three o’ the biggest ones usin’ their hammy fists to ruin the poor sap’s day. I squinted a little ta make out the piñata’s aura. It was another one o’ Skelterhorn’s suckers who’d been given the Soul Retriever spiel.

  I was good and ready to look at something—hell, anything—else, so I gave the rest o’ the place a once-over. I saw tools hangin’ on pegs on the back wall, so I guessed it were some kinda workshop. That went a long way towards explainin’ the arsenality o’ what the goons were tenderazing the poor sucker with. Yeah, yeah, it weren’t past me that I needed ta do somethin’ ta help the dude out but I just wasn’t sure what.

  Then I saw something important that made me realize where I actually was… it was the Maserati that drove Tido to destination unknown and most likely, unfriendly. It was a lot less pretty than the last time I saw it. Where
ver it went, it had its paint strip-teased off, and the mirror was cracked and parts of what I guessed was the engine were lyin’ all around it. I ain’t no mechanic, but something had done the mechaniculled equival-ain’t o’ puttin’ this vehicle in the ICU.

  Comin’ around from the other side was a big, gray giant, wearin’ a white blindfold. The only other clothes he had on was a loincloth, which looked more like an adult diaper. And judging by how saggy his was, he musta just taken a nice, ripe shit. His skin straddled the line between stony and scaly when it came to his complexion. His head looked like it was maybe two or three inches away from scrapin’ the ceiling, makin’ him twice as big as the car. And roughly twice the size of the greater assholes. His big ears told me there was no way he coulda missed the fest-depravities happenin’ only a few feet away from him. Didn’t seem to get any kick outta that though; and his jaw was sealed so tightly, I coulda sworn I heard his molars grindin’ together. All he did was kneel down and start ta fiddle with the car pieces on the ground.

  A cannon boomed around the circle and got everybody’s attention. Meanwhile I winced ‘cause my ears started ringin’ again, and then I caught the unmistakable whiff o’ gun smoke comin’ through the grate. One of the big assholes usin’ his fists ta beat up the sap fell over with a thud, missin’ half his head. The rest of the ugly fuckers backed off in a hurry from the corpse when they saw a guy holdin’ the smoking’ gun.

  The new guy was definitely human but his aura indicated he’d been dead for a while. Goin’ by that ugly face (which made Blindfold look as pretty as Alaire), I guessed his age was somewhere around fifty. He was nearly bald with a few wisps of white hair pressed around the bottom of his head and neck. He stood at a little over six feet tall and was wearin’ a green uniform that had gold trim on the shoulders, with a mural o’ campaign ribbons on the upper right chest. The gold buttons on his shirt shone as brightly as the spit-polished black boots on his feet. Colonel Khadafi mighta considered his outfit over the top. Somehow though, it looked as right on this guy as the ivory-handled revolver he held in his hand.