Mildred leaned against the railing and watched the spirits diving and gliding through the waves. “I never thought I’d live to see a spirit pack.” She looked over at me. “It’s a rare gift you have, child.”
Her words surprised me. “You’ve never seen someone with a spirit pack before?”
“I’ve heard of such things, mostly legends, folklore. Wild things have no understanding of evil. Instead, they fight for balance against chaos. The predator that kills more than it needs jeopardizes the balance, but predators are still needed to cull the weak and sick.”
Even after all this time, Mildred was such a mystery to me. She lifted her face up to the sky. Raindrops fell and glided down her cheeks. When she looked back at me, her hair was slicked back against her head and body. “Luke told me about the men who attacked you in the woods.”
I was surprised that he’d confide in her.
Mildred reached into the pockets of her dress and pulled something out. She opened her hand and lying in her palm was a blue pouch. Its edges were burned.
“Where did you get that?” I demanded.
“The girl gave it to me.”
It looked like one of the magic pouches the Redeemers were wearing when they’d attacked us. Luke had burned the men, but I’d watched as his magic had bounced off their magic pouches. How did Jamie get her hands on it?
As if reading my mind, Mildred said, “She must have snuck out of the house. Maybe followed you. The girl is full of curiosity. She’s always sneaking away when no one is watching.”
“The other night in the woods I saw her…”
Mildred interrupted me. “Singing to your spirit pack.” She smiled at the expression of surprise on my face. “You weren’t the only one up that night, strolling in the woods.”
When I looked at the old woman that night, she’d been asleep. But I knew from my days back at the asylum that Mildred didn’t sleep much. When I went out into the woods, she must have followed me.
“What was she doing?”
“Drawing the darkness off them. The darkness they get when they clash up against the death dealer’s banshees.”
“She was healing them?” I asked.
“I’m not sure.”
I gave her a hard look.
She shrugged her shoulders. “She might’ve been healing them. She might’ve been sucking in the darkness like someone who’s thirsty and desperate for a sip of water.”
That last suggestion sent a chill down my spine. Was the child drinking in the darkness? “Do you trust her?”
“The better question is, do you?”
It was infuriating when Mildred talked in riddles. She made it difficult at times to get a straight answer. “I’m not sure if I can trust her.” I looked back to the waves—the spirit dolphins had moved on. There were so many unanswered questions. I leaned against the railing, feeling tired and confused.
“Do you really think we can cross a demon over and then destroy it?” When she didn’t answer me, I spun around and said, “You seem to know an awful lot about the evil creatures.”
Mildred turned her head to the side and gave me an odd smile. “Do you think I enjoy knowing so much about the beasts?” Her voice filled with anger, and she waved her hands in the air. “I know that morphing into human form weakens them and it takes a great deal of power for them to transfer back to their natural form. It’s in their dark, horned creature form that they hold the most power. But when the creatures pass into our world, that’s where they gain real power.” She lowered her voice and a wild glint came into her eyes. “They can come into our world in their true form, but it takes a Hellgate, which is very difficult to create and doesn’t last very long. Demon killers could open them, and they used them to call across and kill demons that were trying to possess human victims. The demons still fear that demon killers will reemerge, and for a generation the creatures have kept a low profile. I know no more demon killers exist, but old habits die hard. The demon is a creature who likes to hide, who likes to live in the shadows.” She grabbed my arm, and her fingers tightened. “An Archdemon in its true form hasn’t walked the earth for almost ninety-five years. The creatures have been hiding, only using possession and influence to look for human playthings, but that time is over. They’re ready to come back to the world of men.”
I pulled my arm away and rubbed my wrist. I could still see the imprint of her fingers on my skin. “Why do they want to cross over now?”
“Because now there’s someone who possesses the power to bring them over.” Her eyes bore into mine. “You, child. They’ve been waiting all this time for you.”
Everyone kept saying I was the most powerful mage around, but a part of me felt as if they were saying it as a joke. I knew I could do things that other death dealers couldn’t, but it was crazy what the old woman was telling me. How could the demons have been waiting for me?
“You know it wasn’t an accident that your family was killed,” she said.
Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. My mind reeled back to the moment it had happened—my father’s eyes full of defiance as the blade slit his throat. The light in his eyes slowly dying as the blood poured from his body. My mother screaming and rushing to his side, only to be killed by a bullet that tore through her head. And my brother, Jamie. Macaven’s men had somehow ripped Jamie’s spirit from his living body.
It had been no accident that Macaven had killed my family. It was at the bidding of a demon. The creature had used me and Macaven as his puppets and had pulled our strings until we’d done what he wanted—we’d brought the monster into our world. We had brought that thing out of the dark abyss. Was all this just another part of the monster’s plans? Were we once again just the creature’s playthings, dancing to its evil tune? Even now as we headed toward Gage, were we unintentionally following the demon’s master plan?
“I know I have some powers that are different…”
Mildred interrupted me with a harsh laugh. “Child, you have no idea what you’re capable of.”
“Stop with all the mystery and riddles. If you know what I can do, tell me.”
She gave me a small smile. “There are rules to this game. Rules that even I can’t break.”
“What game?” I demanded.
She cocked her head and looked off into the distance.
I took a step forward, reached out, and touched her shoulder. “Mildred.”
She turned her head and slowly focused her eyes back on me. “Child, you’re dripping wet.”
“Mildred, what game?” I asked.
“You want to play a game? I know quite a few. How about hide and seek?” She laughed and started to skip away.
We were entrusting our lives to the information given to us by a mad woman. For the last few days, Mildred had seemed lucid and sane. Everything she told us about the demons, we believed without hesitation. But now as I watched her skipping in the rain, clapping her hands and singing out as she went, I had to wonder how much of what she'd told us was true.
* * *
I stayed outside for awhile longer, enjoying the cold, salty air. The wind blew dark clouds across the sky, throwing long shadows over the small rocky islands we passed. On a few I could see houses small and large, with the occasional mansion tucked into the heavy trees. The wind blew spray onto my face, chilling and invigorating me at the same time.
I turned back to look through the glass behind me at the packed passenger deck. The quiet, intense group of passengers was why I stood out in the cold. They seemed less festive than I’d expect from a group of vacationers en route to a resort island. But maybe they were headed for one of the other large islands that the ferry would visit before it headed back to the mainland. Some of the islands were big enough to qualify as towns, at least according to the map on the ferry wall. We’d already made a couple of stops, and a few people had gotten off, but most still sat in the passenger cabin or milled in small groups on the covered deck. The ferry wasn’t so very large, and
the forty or so passengers made it feel crowded.
I looked back down at the cars below us and at the small minivan in which Luke, Jamie, and Dean slept. When we’d boarded the ferry the other’s had taken one look at the crowded cabin and decided to wait back in the minivan. We’d been driving non-stop and it was still early. Everyone was exhausted. The others had soon fallen asleep, but I’d been too antsy to sleep anymore. The poison was in my system, wearing away at me, making me feel thin and fragile—and those feelings made me acutely aware of my own mortality. I didn’t want to waste any time, waste any experience. The cool sea wind on a cloudy day was a good experience.
We had three more hours on the ferry before we reached our final destination, and I felt an urge to explore the boat. Gathering my energy, I pushed through the door into the passenger compartment. Dozens of faces turned to watch me enter, a few with smiles, but most just watched me with guarded curiosity. I walked down a tiny hallway to the rear lounge. Laughter rose to meet me, as a smaller, happier group filled the rear room. Brightly dressed people talked and laughed, free of the worry and constraints of their work-a-day lives. In spite of my weariness, I felt some of the pleasure in the atmosphere and couldn’t help but smile. I loitered on the edge of the party, but I felt like an uninvited guest and soon moved on.
I pushed through another set of doors and back into the brisk sea air. I moved to the steep stairs by the side rail and down to the car deck. Turning to the back, I watched the ferry’s wide wake turning the dark blue water a misty gray. It left a wide scar through the calm sea, but the lightly rolling swell quickly wiped it away. I leaned against the rail and watched the seagulls diving into the wake.
Without any real urgency, I weaved through the cars back to the bow. A few delivery vans seemed to take up most of the deck, the tops of them only a few inches from the ceiling of the compartment. I had to turn sideways to fit between the sidewall and the wider of the trucks. I moved up beside the old minivan that held the others. They slept peacefully, lulled to sleep by the gentle rolling of the boat and a long night on the road. Luke was in the passenger seat, his head cushioned against a sweater and the window. I smiled at the peaceful scene, resisting the impulse to wake Luke up so that he could enjoy the boat ride with me. He needed the rest.
I moved on, and as I cleared the van I noticed someone leaning against the door of one of the panel vans. He brought a bandaged hand up, and it disappeared in the darkness of his hooded sweatshirt. The end of a cigarette glowed, smoke rolling out of the shadowed depths and wrapping around the lowered head. There was something about him, the way he stood, his very presence that seemed ominous.
There was nothing to fear. We were on a crowded ferry. No one knew we were death dealers. If there was going to be trouble, it would’ve happened when we first boarded the boat. But I couldn’t help but shudder as I looked over at him. I quickly moved on before he looked up.
I passed back into the sunlight of the bow with a sigh of relief. And there stood Jamie looking out toward the water. I’d thought she was asleep in the car. She didn’t seem to notice me. Her eyes were focused on the water. I followed her gaze and saw dolphins swimming and diving in the wake of the boat. Not live dolphins, but spirits. The dolphin spirits that had come to me earlier.
I watched as Jamie laughed, clapping her hands in glee as two of the spirit dolphins jumped into the air and smoothly landed back in the water. I realized I’d never heard her laugh before. Suddenly she stilled and slowly turned around. She looked at me warily.
I walked over until I stood a few feet from her.
She didn’t say a word, but her expression became guarded.
She had hidden her magic from us. I could feel the anger rage through me. I’d been a fool to trust her. She’d been playing us the whole time. “I saw you in the woods the other night. Singing to my spirit pack.”
Jamie’s eyes widened with surprise from both my declaration and my tone.
“What were you doing to them?” I demanded.
“They were hurt,” she said in a small voice.
I looked down at the dolphin spirits gliding through the water. I’d been standing above this deck when I first spotted them. My spirit pack never came to me unless I was in pain or a great deal of fear. I had just assumed the dolphins had come to me, but I realized now I was wrong. They had come to the girl. Jamie had somehow called them to her like she had the spirits in the woods the other night.
Are you evil? Will you hurt us? Do you hear the demon? These questions flashed through my mind. But if I asked them and she answered, could I believe her answer? Instead I asked, “The spirit animals come to you?”
Her hands were behind her back. She stood looking up with those blue eyes. My brother’s eyes. “I hear them sometimes.” She finally answered. Everything about her body language screamed that she didn’t want to talk about it.
But there was nowhere she could go. I was blocking her only way back into the car compartment.
She looked at me, her eyes wide with fear, and for one brief moment I felt compassion for her. But I pushed those feelings away. “Do you only hear animal spirits? What about other spirits? Can you hear the dead?”
I didn’t think she would answer my questions, but she finally spoke. “I see a woman sometimes.”
So she could see the dead. It shouldn’t have been a surprise; the demon had taken my blood to create her. I could see the spirits and so could she, but I could see the spirits only after I went through the dark rituals. I had to die and come back before I could hear, feel, and speak to the dead. She might have my blood, but she hadn’t been initiated as a death dealer. How was it that she could see spirits?
“The woman is really sad. She’s looking for her family.” Jamie looked so young and innocent standing there, her hands now clasped in front of her. “She was killed.” She reached up and rubbed her forehead. “She has a hole right here and she’s covered in blood.”
I froze at her words.
“Run, baby, run,” Jamie whispered.
Those were the words my mother had cried out to me when Macaven’s men had advanced on Pagan’s barn. I reached out and grabbed Jamie’s arms. “Where did you hear those words?”
“In the cabin. Back at the stronghold,” she said.
Jamie had told me she’d heard voices talking to her when we were in the cabin, and now she was claiming one of the voices was actually my mother’s. I had not felt my mother’s presence in the death dealer’s camp. I had hoped—believed—that my mother’s spirit had moved on. Was she still out there, tortured and confused? Would her soul forever wander the in between?
My fingers dug into Jamie’s arm. “You’re lying to me. My mama’s spirit wasn’t back at the camp. I would have felt her.”
Jamie looked up at me, her eyes full of fear.
I let go of her arm and grabbed her by the shoulders. I shook her hard once. “Who are you?”
Her head snapped back and, tears welling up in her eyes, she said, “I’m your sister.”
It was not the answer I expected. I wanted to shake her again. I wanted to force her to tell me the truth. I wanted answers, and I was tired of playing games. I wanted to hurt her. And at that thought I took a deep breath, and let it out. I forced the anger back. I wasn’t going to get the answers I wanted by scaring and hurting her. I let go of her, and she fell back onto the deck.
“You’re not my sister.” There was no anger left in my voice when I said it.
Jamie looked up at me, a single teardrop rolling down her face. “Mildred told me I am. That we have the same blood.”
All along the way to the ferry Jamie had stayed close to Mildred. I had often seen them with their heads together, whispering away. What had they talked about? What else had Mildred told her? “Did she tell you how you came to be?”
“She told me it was a spell.”
“A spell done by a black mage. One that raised a demon. The demon made you from my blood.”
The news d
idn’t seem to surprise Jamie. “That’s why you’re scared of me,” she said. She reached out her hand. “But you don’t have to be scared anymore. The demon is gone.”
My instincts screamed at me to go to her, to comfort her, but I ignored them. There was a cold edge to my voice when I said, “You told me there were voices talking to you in the cabin. They told you my boyfriend was back. It wasn’t spirits talking to you was it?” That wary look was back on her face. “I can feel spirits, and there weren’t any there that night with us in the cabin.”
“I hear them in my head. The voices,” she whispered. “Sometimes I hear growls.”
I gasped out loud. I had heard the same sounds in the dark abyss. “What do they say to you?”
“Things,” she answered and then looked away.
My anger resurfaced. I stormed forward, reached out, and pulled her to her feet. “What kind of things?”
“They say that he’s waiting for you. That he was so sad when you went away.”
I felt a cold chill go down my back. She was talking about Gage.
Jamie continued. “They tell me that your friend is not happy. She cries a lot.”
Wendy.
Jamie’s eyes shone brightly. I had seen the same look in Mildred’s eyes. “They say that they’ve been waiting a long time. That you’re going to finally set them free.
I let her go and took a step back. “I’ll never allow the Legion to cross over.”
Jamie broke the silence. “They say you’re the one they’ve been waiting for.”
The growls, the snarls. Creatures from the black abyss. The demons were talking to Jamie. They were talking to her just like they’d communicated with Wendy. Mildred said a piece of them could cross the veil and possess a person. When Wendy was possessed, the demon talked using her voice, controlled her movements, filled her mind with darkness and madness.
Mildred said if the girl let the demon back in it could possess her again. I had thought I’d made Jamie human with that spell. But I was wrong. She wasn’t human. She was something else. She had magic, she could see spirits, and somehow the demons were communicating with her from the other side.
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