Ablaze - Book 4

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Ablaze - Book 4 Page 11

by Chrissy Peebles


  Panic flooded me at the sureness in his threat. I looked around for any sign of physical reality, for anything of determinable length, width, or height. I cried out and tore my legs free from the entity that anchored them. I ran at first, then, upon realizing the buoyancy of the blackness that was engulfing me, I began to swim. It really was a sea, I realized as I cut through it. I felt its deep desire to claim me, to swallow me whole, to grip me as it had before. My eyes squeezed shut. I swam and swam through that wretched dark lake, until I felt the muscles in my arms and legs might burst. Just before they snapped, I broke through the surface, emerging from my body with a tremendous gasp. In its sleep, my body turned over, and my lips twitched into a frown. Shaken, I stumbled away from it, out of the dorm room, seeking solace with William and Isabella. Nothing could be done, at least not until the sacrifice, or so it seemed. Our only hope was to find a way to disrupt the ritual. Either that, or we would have severe consequences to face, and I sensed those would be far worse than anything dreadfully imaginable fate my mind could conjure up—a cruel fate for each and every one of us, for all of eternity, trapped in those gray walls.

  Chapter 17

  It seemed as if June came suddenly; in a blink, the date of the ritual was upon us, the first full moon of the month, when my body was supposed to be sacrificed, even though I no longer resided in it. Unfortunately for Mr. Rowens, he’d been unable to find the sapphire, despite his frantic efforts and endless searches, so I felt safe. I was secure in the notion that nothing would happen, that the principal’s plan would fail and I would be given time to figure a way out of the mess I was in. It was hard to stay chipper, though, when even William was less than his usual self.

  “Today’s the day, isn’t it?” he asked. “I’m sure he’ll try it anyway, even without the gemstone.”

  I nodded, watching the students go to their classes. “Where do you think it’ll be held?” I asked.

  He glanced downstairs. “Many magical ceremonies have been performed in the temple outside in the forest.”

  “Show me,” I said, even though I wasn’t so sure I wanted to see such a macabre place.

  He walked outside and led me to the temple. I easily saw the parallels between that vast stone room and all the sacrificial altars depicted in movies. It was simple to imagine candles, perhaps even a pentagram.

  The day wore on, and the classes filtered out. In time, just after seventh period, the principal arrived and began to draw one of those five-pointed stars, pausing every so often to cough, often hacking clots of blood into the stained fabric of his handkerchief. A look of endless concern crossed his face, and I touched the projection of my necklace to hear him think, I have no idea how I will even get her down here. Call her over the speaker? No. Then everyone will know. How? How, darn it!? How can I possibly manage to do this?

  In that moment, I thought he resembled the saddest creature I’d ever seen, just a dying old man, trying to live a little longer, trying to free himself from the spirit who insisted on leeching the life right out of him.

  As his worrying thoughts seemed to cry out in some heart-wrenching crescendo of desperation, thoughts as dark and evil and hopeless as the sacrifice room itself, a bit of movement in the doorway drew our attention. We turned, the principal and I, and both of us inhaled deeply when we caught sight of the other Zoey.

  “Hello, Principal Rowens,” said King Geoffrey with her mouth, using those borrowed legs to take a few tentative steps into the room. “Are you ready to receive your eternal life at midnight tonight?”

  “I… Zoey? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m not Zoey,” the spirit said plainly, walking a slow circle around the little old man, never pulling her eyes away. “I’m only renting her body for safekeeping, to make sure we have her blood when we need it.”

  “King Geoffrey?” the principal murmured.

  She smiled and patted the edge of his shoulder. “That’s right. King Geoffrey.” She chuckled and shook her head, tossing that familiar mop of hair around, hair I’d brushed a thousand times. “Plans have changed, but it doesn’t matter. It is a small price to pay for the cost of helping another gain eternal life.”

  It was then that I realized, with the jolt of a terrible memory, something King Geoffrey had said earlier, something that made no sense at all: that he would still eventually get his body back. Inch by tickling, trickling inch, understanding dawned upon me, and I fell back with a gasp, clutching my necklace. Mr. Geo was right all along: The ceremony was not really meant to bestow eternal life to the person who performed it; instead, it was meant to grant immortality to the king himself.

  “He’s lying to you!” I screamed, momentarily forgetting that King Geoffrey was the only one of the two who could hear me.

  To that end, the stolen body shot me a sneer.

  “Please, Principal Rowens! He’s lying to you, and he has no intention of saving you or anyone else. You might even die too!” I warned.

  “Just be sure to be prompt,” said King Geoffrey, smiling thinly. “The ceremony begins at midnight, under the first full moon in June. Oh! How clever of me! I made a little rhyme there…in case you care,” she teased snidely, making me want to punch the goblin in my own face all the harder.

  My body was being held hostage, and the principal, wilted and ostensibly alone, burst into tears, coming to the stark realization that there was no turning back. I felt much the same, overcome with such devastation that it took a span of delirium and William’s eventual, reluctant leaving to realize he’d locked me in the room with the spell book containing the ceremony.

  My ghostly heart stirred as I flipped open the front cover and began leafing frantically through the pages, each more unrecognizable than the last. Finally, though, my eyes fell on that particular, familiar page. After what had felt like eight weeks of tutoring by Isabella, I was able to identify a great number of the symbols on the pages before me, particularly “gemstone,” “ghost,” “holy,” and “chain. A white-hot chill rushed through me when I realized, line by line, that they needed my necklace too. According to the notes, the gem was the source of great connection to the spirit realm, a gift handed down through powerful members of the royal family for centuries.

  I shut the book and rushed to find my friends. Both William and Isabella were lurking gloomily, like waterlogged shadows, gazing out at the void that enfolded the spirit of the castle.

  The principal dawdled unhappily at the edge of the room, checking and rechecking his watch, desperately, breathlessly anxious. He was now dressed in a hooded black robe. In his hand, he held something that glinted blue in the darkness.

  “What!? How did he get the sapphire from Mr. Geo?” As soon as the words spilled out of my mouth, I realized I’d been so wrapped up in my own drama that I hadn’t seen my teacher in two or three days. With a horrible churn in the pit of my stomach, I wondered if I’d inadvertently managed to cause another good person to be discharged from the castle. Another pang of anger hit me as I realized I might never have such a privilege. As my rage grew, the room began to blur, and I nearly missed the moment when my body returned, wearing a hooded purple robe.

  King Geoffrey assessed the gem and medallion and sneered. “This had better be the stone…and the right medallion.”

  “It has to be,” Mr. Rowens said, trembling.

  Mocking him with a high, whiny pitch, the evil one rolled her eyes and assessed the sigil painted on the floor in crimson, the blood of livestock. “Not bad for a first effort. You could have spared some time to practice before the main event though. Perhaps we should have allowed Miss Shila to infect you with a bit of Picasso.”

  “I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not used to all this.”

  “Lucky for you, it is not a particularly complicated spell, merely a little incantation. The secret is in the blood,” the evil twin said with a little flick of her wrist, revealing the blue veins beneath, as if happily offering herself up to
a blood bank.

  King Geoffrey put the stone in the middle of the pentagon, then surrounded it with candles. A chant was recited, and the thing waved her hand over it. The flames began to connect into one larger, blue one, as blue as the sapphire itself, indicating that the stone was releasing its power. King Geoffrey jutted those stolen hands into the blue flame, and power flooded into the body he inhabited. For a moment, I seemed to be staring at my own electrocution, and I watched my arms and legs jerk, contort, and twist in horribly unnatural ways. My stomach lurched at the sight. How could he do that to me, to anyone?

  Colorful balls of energy formed in her palms, and King Geoffrey began dispersing them around the circle. I watched in disbelief as my body summoned those orbs of energy; it was like a scene from some twisted fairytale, and I wanted no part of it, but my body had no choice but to obey the sick whims of a crazed, homicidal king.

  I watched my body walk around in the purple hooded robe. I looked like a witch or something. Especially the way I was picking up balls of energy like it was nothing.

  The king walked over to the principal and placed the gold medallion around his neck to protect him from the paranormal energy. “The sapphire has been activated,” King Geoffrey said. “The medallion is in place, and the right words have been enchanted. The proper combinations of energy have been placed around the ancient circle. The stars are aligned with the silvery moon. All that is left now is to spill the blood of a princess, the blood that is now pumping through me.” With that, she walked over to stand in the center of the pentagon, watching as the principal wearily set about lighting the beeswax candles.

  As horrified by the spectacle as I was, Isabella slipped her hand into mine, her ghostly pulse beating with anxiety to match my own. So funny that a ghost is scared, her heart beating like that, I thought, and so funny I even care right now, that I can even think such a thought at such a terrible time. I had no idea what else to think, and I certainly had no idea what I could possibly do.

  Still, amidst all the confusion and fear and desperation, I felt the necklace. I knew it was the key somehow; it had gotten me in the whole situation in the first place, and it was entirely possible that it was the key to the ceremony, if not to my salvation. As Isabella and I shared a look, I felt in my heart that we both had only to follow our instincts and discover the right thing to do.

  With a deep, tumultuous breath, the principal picked up the dagger.

  The spirit laughed through my mouth, tilting her head back. “Why are you so frightened, old man? I’m the one who has to die.”

  Chills shot down my spine.

  “Please!” Mr. Rowens begged. “Please don’t remind me. She’s just an innocent girl.”

  “No one in any world is truly innocent,” the king said, trying to justify all his dirty deeds. “You were infected with that scourge, with cancer, and you’ve spent thousands looking for a cure. You learned about immortality in Haiti, and the brilliant idea for this school dawned in your thick head. You hatched this plan and lured that so-called innocent girl here, all so you could live. You mustn’t become a coward now, old fool.”

  “But I know Zoey now. It was different when it was just a plan on paper, just a name without a face, just—”

  “You walked down the dark path, and you cannot remove that filth from your shoes, nor will you be able to remove her blood from your hands, no matter how long your pathetic life is.”

  “I can still change my mind!”

  “No, you stupid cow. You have involved me, and such wishy-washiness does not bode well with a king. You made your decision long ago, and you will not turn your back on it now.”

  “But y-you made the cancer spread faster, made me sicker than what I was already.”

  “I had to. If I had not, you would have lost the little amount of courage you had. Desperation is often the best motivation, you frail insect.”

  “I-I just wasn’t thinking clearly. I could never kill anyone on an altar like this, dressed up like some hooded freak in a B-movie,” he said, looking down at his robe in humiliation. “I cannot do this. I won’t.”

  “But it’s the only way to free the spirits, and I want to be freed. When she dies, you will be granted immortality, and I will have my freedom. I had your word, and you cannot go back on it,” the doppelganger spat, an obvious lie.

  “But Zoey is so innocent,” the principal said.

  Sneering again, the king said, “No one from her line is guiltless. They committed great sins against their nation and against me.”

  “Zoey had nothing to do with that.”

  “She wears their symbol, and her heart pumps their toxic blood. She is just as guilty of their crimes as any member of their wretched clan.” King Geoffrey lit more candles, then started to read a spell. Thunder boomed overhead, and wind tousled the hair on top of his head. “I’m a willing victim!” the king said, climbing up on the altar. “Pierce me directly in the heart, just as we discussed, and immortal life will be yours forever.”

  “No!” I shouted. “Give me back my body!”

  The principal’s white-knuckled hands tightened around the handle of the knife, and he slowly approached my body.

  I closed my eyes, praying, squeezing the teardrop of my necklace so tight that even in the spirit world, I felt it might cut my hand any second. I was so busy frantically repeating my prayers to myself that I didn’t see the principal lower his knife, but I did manage to hear him say, “I can’t.”

  My body scoffed and began to sit up. “What do you mean? Are you telling me you’d rather die than end the life of a girl who hasn’t even had time to live yet? It’s not as if you’re destroying someone full of memories and accomplishments. She is merely an idea, a whim, not even a life at all.”

  “She’s a girl, and as far as I know she’s never done anything to hurt anyone, not even me, when I was so nasty to her.” The blade slipped from his hand. “I simply can’t. Kill me if you must. I’m doomed anyway,” he said, staring at the floor.

  Baring her teeth, my body stood and snatched him by the fabric of his shirt, then shook him so hard he cried out. “No! I’ve waited too long, centuries for this moment, this very moment, this body, this blood. You will not foil my plans!” King Geoffrey snarled through me again. “I’ll simply inhabit you and kill Zoey myself.”

  “Not before I destroy the stone!” Mr. Rowens threatened.

  “No!” I wailed, desperate for him to hear and heed my warning. “Without that stone, we can’t release the trapped spirits!”

  Chapter 18

  Principal Rowens grabbed the stone and threw it against the stone wall. It didn’t shatter when it crashed, but it began to blacken and dim when it hit the stone floor.

  “What have you done, you fool?” King Geoffrey barked, lifting the stone to examine it. “You have weakened it immensely!”

  “Good,” Mr. Rowens said. “We both know how much power that spell requires. This is over, Geoffrey. It ends here and now, unless you’ve got some kind of cosmic battery charger for that thing, which I know you don’t.”

  “Lucky for you, I think quick on my feet,” the faux me said. “We shall form a new plan.”

  “A new plan? You truly are insane!” the principal yelled.

  “These objects are needed to release the spirits, so we shall do just that.”

  “What?” Mr. Rowens asked, baffled. “Since when did you get a heart? Since when do you care about freeing anyone?”

  “I don’t, you fool, but when the spirits are released, the energy will be powerful enough to replace that of the damaged stone.”

  When the king spread the pilfered hands out in the sky and began chanting uncontrollably, the candles flickered in the wind but didn’t go out. The wind roared all around us as the chants grew louder, and the colorful orbs of light began to glow, lift, and merge into one. In a flash of glorious light, they started spinning, until a swirling doorway appeared in the ceiling, a gateway or portal, burning fiercely and ablaze with s
wirling colors.

  I was already familiar with portals, and I knew that was the one way the castle spirits could leave, their only way out. After being trapped for centuries, the sinister king, in his selfish greed and power lust, had given them an escape, a glimmer of hope, a chance at the freedom they’d longed for for so very long. My body was at risk of dying, and King Geoffrey would be bestowed with undeserved immortality, but the imprisoned spirits would be free to move on to Heaven, so they could live in the paradise that had been kept from them for so long.

  “Go!” King Geoffrey shouted. “You are now free from your curse!” As the spirits exited, whooshing through one by one, like stars being sucked into some sort of vacuum, the king said, as if in a trance, “Yes! I can feel the power increasing. Their energy is transferring, like a power source.”

  The sapphire returned to its original color, an even brighter blue than before, as if it had been recharged, and I could feel the heavy energy crackling in the air. His plan was working, and while that was fortunate for the captured spirits, it was quite unfortunate for my physical self.

  I watched in great horror as the necklace and eyes blackened and the blackness began to slowly seep out of my form, until my body fell back into the pentagon with a lifeless thump. Though the principal turned and tried to run, the smog poured around him, into him, and King Geoffrey’s anger easily overpowered Mr. Rowens’s already weakened mind and body.

  I was so shocked by all that I was observing that I nearly missed my William’s terrified call of my name. I snapped to at the sound of his cry, realizing what it meant. I dashed across the room, narrowly avoiding tendrils of smog that shot out to trip and grab me. Letting out a shriek, I fell into my body, but the experience didn’t feel the same as before; this time, it felt explosive, as if my skin was too tight. For the first few disorienting seconds of my return to the flesh, I assumed it was just a necessary adjustment, but when I looked around the room and saw only the black smog manipulating the body of the principal, as well as with a glimpse of my friend William, I realized the truth. If I needed any confirmation, it came when Isabella screamed my name.

 

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