Finding Jade

by Mary Jennifer Payne

  Cassandra’s eyes are wild with fear. Not only is her fear giving the demons strength, but it also seems to be allowing the lost souls to interact with us more fully. The woman is now dragging Cassandra away into the crowd. I look around. Lily’s gone. Has she been grabbed without us even noticing?

  “We need to help Cassandra.” The words barely leave my lips before I feel something wrap itself around my wrist like an icy snake.

  I yelp in surprise and turn. The old woman creature draws back her cracked lips.

  “Mine,” it says. The voice is deep and raspy.

  It begins to pull me away from Raphael and into the crowd. Terror fills my body. This is how Jade must’ve felt. Tears spring to my eyes. Its grasp becomes stronger, and I feel my other hand slipping from Raphael’s.

  I need to stop being afraid. I’m feeding this creature with my fear.

  My hand is torn from Raphael’s, and then I’m surrounded by the mob of lost souls. They close in around me like a pack of wild dogs. Their negative energy washes over me, as elbows stab into my ribs and leather boots connect with my shins. The pain is real. I feel like crying, but blink back the tears as I stumble. It takes all my strength just to keep standing. I don’t want to risk being crushed. A shiver runs through me as I remember the bodies tumbling down on top of each other on the subway steps, taking Jade along with them.

  There’s sudden movement and a flash of metal from behind the creature dragging me. Its head snaps violently to one side. A guttural roar fills the air, and a spray of cold liquid hits my face as the skin between the demon’s neck and body tears apart. Instinctively, I close my eyes, while frantically wiping at my face with the sleeve of the dress. The liquid stings my skin and, like everything in this place, smells of death and decay.

  I open my eyes again. The demon is clawing at the air above its stump of a neck. I stare, blinking back the liquid trickling down my face.

  “Don’t just stand there, Jasmine!” Lily is beside me. She’s holding a metal pole out in front of her with both hands. It’s slick with a clear, slimy liquid. Demon blood. “They’re really pissed now and this pole is getting harder to keep a firm hold on.”

  I snap out of it. The demon sinks to the ground, gurgling sounds coming from the stump where its head used to be.

  I look at Lily and then back at the crowd. She’s right: they’re angry. Killing what could pass for a little old lady hasn’t won us any popularity contests here in jolly old Limbo-England.

  Raphael is beside us. “They’ve taken Cassandra to the river.”

  Lily’s eyes widen when she hears this. She places the metal pole in front of all three of us, using it like a shield to ward off the advancing crowd. “STAY BACK OR ELSE,” she shouts. Her voice is strong and steady. I’m amazed.

  We move sideways, toward a small alleyway between some of the houses.

  “What are they going to do to her?” I ask Raphael.

  “Likely something called trial by ordeal,” he says. “If she sinks, they’ll find her innocent of witchcraft. If she floats, they’ll see that as proof she’s a witch and drown her.”

  “A real win-win situation,” I say with a grimace.

  Panic claws at my throat. Things seem so much more dangerous down here this time. If the energy of the lost souls is strong enough to drag Cassandra away from us, what must the demons’ powers be like?

  Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see something coming for Lily. I open my mouth to shout, but my words are cut short by her screams of pain. The elderly man demon has sunk his teeth deep into her right shoulder. She drops the metal pole, which clangs noisily onto the cobblestones. There’s a flurry of movement from the crowd as they rush toward it.

  “Get the pole, Jasmine!” Lily screams. Tears stream down her face. Her skin is as pale as the white sleeves of her dress. Blood seeps from the demon’s mouth, which is still firmly fastened onto her shoulder. Crimson stains bloom down the length of her upper arm.

  I dive for the pole. My knees hit the cobblestones, sending sharp fingers of pain skittering up and down my legs. Several hands grab for it at the same time as I do. But something tells me I’m stronger. In my hands, this pole is a dangerous weapon. Even Lily was able to use it to kill the demon.

  As I wrench the pole up and away from the crowd, I begin to understand. We’re Seers. I’m a Seer. I can feel the power building deep inside me.

  “Back!” I shout, swinging the pole at the crowd. I’m no longer afraid.

  They move backward, almost in unison. There are fewer of them now. I wonder if that’s because some of the lost souls went to see what’s happening to Cassandra. As soon as I think it, a vision of her pops into my head. She’s being dragged, kicking and screaming, down some stone steps. There’s a river, but the water isn’t very deep where they’ve taken her.

  “At high tide we’ll find out if ye is a witch,” one of the men says. He’s nearly as wide as he is tall, and his sausage-like fingers busily wrap thick rope around Cassandra’s wrists. He spits a large gob of green phlegm out of the corner of his mouth as he finishes speaking.

  We have time. Not much, but at least we’re not too late. I can see in my vision that the tide is coming in, but it isn’t high tide yet. I snap out of the vision, and turn my attention back to Lily. She’s weakening; the demon’s slowly draining the life out of her.

  Grasping the pole like a martial artist, I run at the creature. He sees me and releases his teeth from Lily’s flesh. She slumps to the ground, and Raphael rushes over to cradle her in his arms.

  I spin the pole in my hands, smashing it into the side of the demon’s head. Even though the pole doesn’t feel completely solid in my hands, the upper portion of its skull collapses like a month-old jack-o’-lantern. The demon lets out an angry howl and grabs the pole.

  For a moment, I’m afraid it’s too strong and that I’m going to lose the pole. Then I realize that the demon can only be stronger than me if I allow it. Seers hold more power than demons. And there are two of us here, even if Lily is injured.

  “No!” I shout, grabbing the pole back. The demon’s eyes widen. Do I see fear?

  It doesn’t matter. I bring the pole down and across the demon’s neck, using it like a baseball bat.

  THWACK!

  The pole slices through the demon’s neck. The creature lets out a bubbling, gurgling howl as its head falls to the cobblestones.

  “They’ve killed both Mister and Missus MacTaverty!” shouts a man from the crowd. “An eye for an eye! Off with their heads!” There’s a communal roar of anger.

  I look over at Raphael and Lily. He’s holding her injured shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. Her lips are a bluish colour, and her eyes are barely open. All I can see are the whites. We can’t possibly run. I don’t even know if she’s alive. And we’re still in danger.

  I turn back to the smattering of people still left. Several are moving forward.

  “Stop!” I say, holding my pole beside me like a spear. “If you do not leave us immediately, I will put the curse of the plague upon every single one of your houses.”

  Everyone slows. They look around, giving nods of encouragement to one other. But I can see the fear and doubt creeping into their eyes. No one wants to be the first to attack.

  “I mean it!” I say, putting up one of my hands, palm forward. “Leave now and I will spare your family. Continue to move toward us and expect all your loved ones dead by tomorrow.”

  There’s concerned murmuring, and a few of the lost souls at the outer edge of the crowd slink away.

  “The witches can’t curse us if they’re dead!” a woman bellows. I watch, holding my breath to see what the crowd’s reaction will be. A few of them nod their heads in agreement, and then there’s a sudden, angry rush toward us.

  Chapter 18

  “’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble
in the wabe!” I stop and observe the crowd. They’re frozen with fear.

  “She’s putting the pox upon us,” one man says, his voice shaking. He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. “We should’ve left with the others whilst we could.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him and point for effect. “ALL MIMSY WERE THE BOROGROVES AND THE MOME —” Everyone begins to run, scattering in every possible direction. I watch, trying to keep a straight face.

  “… Raths outgrabe,” I finish. My voice is hoarse from shouting. Not one of them remains. Only a small child watches us from the doorway of one of the houses. His face is a mask of dirt, and his nostrils and eyes are crusted with snot. Large, red sores cover his arms and face.

  I try to smile at him, but find it impossible. How can a little kid be here, in the Place-in-Between? It doesn’t seem right. No kid’s spirit could be so angry or so jealous or whatever else it takes to get stuck in this place.

  I turn to ask Raphael why a child would be here and am shocked to see him and Lily sitting, talking, and smiling.

  “‘The Jabberwocky.’ Nice,” Lily says, pulling herself to her feet. “I love Lewis Carroll. Pretty good choice, too. I definitely feel like Alice today with all of this craziness happening. We need to get to Cassandra.”

  I nod, but don’t respond right away to what she’s just said. Instead, I stare at her shoulder. Aside from a tear in her dress, there’s no other visible clue to show that she was attacked by the demon.

  The three of us begin walking, careful to keep an eye out for any stray lost souls from the crowd.

  “What happened to your injury?” I ask. Her eyes are sparkling, and the colour is back in her face. If anything, she looks even better than she did when we met at the subway in Toronto.

  Lily frowns. “I guess I must’ve fallen when that demon attacked me,” she says. “I tore the dress, and my shoulder feels a little bruised, but that’s about it. Sorry I scared you guys. I faint sometimes when I get really nervous.”

  I arch an eyebrow at Raphael. “Really? She faints?” I ask sarcastically.

  He looks down at the ground and pretends to be fascinated by a pebble or something.

  Three times. The dog. Then Mom. Now Lily.

  I believe in coincidences, but come on. Raphael clearly has the power to heal people and animals. The dog had cancer. Mom’s last kidney was packing it in. Lupus isn’t curable. Lily was badly injured. Whether she remembers or not, I know Lily was more dead than alive just a few minutes ago.

  “We should be faster,” Raphael says. “Cassandra needs us.”

  “Naw,” I say. “We have all the time in the world. If she’s dead, you can just bring her back to life.” I walk closer to him, place my index finger under his chin, and lift his head. “Can’t you?”

  His emerald eyes meet mine, and for a moment, they seem to be illuminated. It’s as though they are miniature suns. I shake my head. Impossible.

  “Please don’t do this, Jazz,” he says. “Not now.” He sounds so much older and more exhausted than he looks. “We’ve got too much to do. We need to find Cassandra.”

  “We’ve got time,” I say. “The tide isn’t in yet.”

  Our eyes remain locked for a moment, and sparks of electricity shoot through me, warming every cell in my body. I fight the desire to lean over and kiss him. Wouldn’t be a wise move, in case he decides to reject me again, especially with Lily watching us. I’d die of embarrassment.

  “Don’t,” he whispers. There’s that fear again in his eyes.

  “Don’t what?” I ask, trying to mimic Cassandra’s confidence by tossing my hair nonchalantly behind my shoulder. Some of it hits me in the mouth and sticks to my lips. Great. So much for looking confident and cool.

  “I had a vision. They’ve tied Cassandra up by the river, and they’re waiting for high tide,” I say, picking the pieces of hair off my lips. “So she’s not in immediate danger, but we do need to get to her.”

  “She could be almost anywhere along the Thames,” Raphael says. “Try to connect with her again. See if there are any clues we can use to locate her.”

  I close my eyes and think about Cassandra. In the vision I had, she was being dragged down some stone steps at the river’s edge. It hurts to think of how terrified she looked; Jade had the same look in her eyes when I had the vision of her in this place.

  “Can you help me?” A tiny voice asks, interrupting my thoughts. I open my eyes. It’s the little boy I saw earlier. I figure Lily and Raphael can deal with him. Poor kid. Imagine dying and then being stuck here, all alone. I close my eyes again.

  Cassandra comes into view. She’s sitting on the steps still, and the tide is higher now. The bottom steps have disappeared under swirling, foamy water. Rows of people are standing above her along a stone walkway. Some of them lean over, spitting and throwing sticks and bits of rotted food at her. Her arms are bound and the water is around her ankles. Her usual confidence is gone, and she is weeping quietly.

  Maybe I was wrong about how much time we had to get to her.

  “I asked if you could help me.” The child’s voice is gone. In its place is a deep, raspy, and completely inhuman voice.

  “Oh my God,” Lily whispers.

  I force myself not to open my eyes. Is the child a demon? What if it attacks me? Raphael and Lily can handle this, right? I hope so, because I need to locate Cassandra….

  There are buildings above where she’s being held, but I can’t see them clearly.

  The demon’s growl is intensifying.

  “Hurry, Jazz,” Raphael says. His voice is urgent, but controlled.

  There’s a bridge. Just down the river, there’s this massive bridge lined with buildings and bustling with activity. Tall, wooden structures crowd unsteadily along the entire stretch of it. It’s as if an entire city is jammed on there. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  Lily screams and my eyes fly open. The demon is growling and snapping at her ankles like a rabid animal. She holds the pole in front of her, her eyes wide with fear and disgust.

  “Kill it!” I shout at her. The demon is crouching lower now, as if it’s getting ready to run at Lily’s legs. If it grabs the pole, we’re going to be defenceless. I look around for something I can use as a weapon. Other than a chicken pecking aimlessly at some bit of dirt on the cobblestones, there’s not much.

  “But it’s just a little kid,” Lily says, her voice wavering. “I can’t kill a little kid.”

  Like a cat stalking its prey, the demon slowly crawls toward us. It growls softly, a grin playing across its crusty face. This is no kid. Black eyes gleam like glass marbles inside its face. I grab the pole from Lily.

  “Then I will. It’s a demon, not a child.” I run at the creature and swing the pole at its neck, putting my entire weight into the movement. It hisses and skitters sideways like a crab. My pole whistles through the air, and I’m nearly thrown off-balance.

  This demon is fast. Worst of all, because it’s small and crouching low, it can easily protect its neck.

  “Jazz, I think we better make a run for it,” Raphael says, pointing at a row of houses across the road from us.

  I try to keep one eye on the demon in front of me, while checking out what Raphael’s talking about. My heart skips a beat. At least half a dozen more children, many of them coughing and covered with sores, are spilling out of the doorways of the houses and into the street.

  “Where are we going to run to?” I ask out of the corner of my mouth. We certainly can’t take on all these miniature demons.

  “We need to get to the water,” Raphael replies. “Since you have the pole, you’ll be last. Move quickly, and don’t look back unless you absolutely need to.”

  I swallow hard. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. I repeat the mantra in my mind, knowing that if I allow the terror that is bubbling under the surface to be
felt, these demon children are going to instantly be strengthened.

  “Do you know how to get to the river?” Lily asks. She’s keeping her eyes on the children. They’ve stopped moving and are standing as still as statues, heads cocked to the right, as though intently listening to something. I wonder if they can hear us.

  “Yes,” Raphael replies. “You follow me, and Jasmine will bring up the rear. No one is to stop or look back. No matter what we hear or think might be happening. Understand?”

  I understand. He means if something happens to me, he and Lily are not to stop.

  “On the count of three,” he says. “One … two —”

  He doesn’t even get to three before there’s a loud scurrying sound as the demon children rush forward at us like an army of cockroaches.

  Chapter 19

  “RUN!”

  We turn and dash down the alleyway. It’s difficult to run in this dress — my feet keep getting caught in the hem, threatening to pull me down. I notice that Lily is holding her dress up in front of her as she runs. I would have to ditch the pole to do that, which would leave us without a weapon and the demons with an extra means to attack.

  Raphael takes a sharp turn to the right. We’re back on a busy, narrow street that’s crowded with people. In the middle of the craziness, a juggler is commanding a small audience of people. One of the things he’s juggling is a knife. Lily veers off and snatches the knife out of the air in one fluid motion as she passes, ignoring the cries of protest from both the juggler and the crowd.

  I smile to myself. I underestimated her. She’s not what she seemed.

  Something grabs the back of my skirt. I stumble and catch myself from falling. I turn. It’s the first demon child, and he’s latched onto my dress. He bares his pointed teeth at me and hisses like a snake.

  Instinctively, I reach down with my free hand to grab the skirt back, and that’s when he sinks his teeth deep into the fleshy part of my hand, just below my thumb. I scream and bring the pole down like a javelin through the top of his head.