Radiance

by Alyson Noel

But he was already ten steps ahead. Glancing over his shoulder to say, “All in good time, Riley. All in good time.”

  10

  It took a trolley, a tram, a bus, and a subway just to get part of the way there.

  Or at least I called it the subway.

  Bodhi called it the tube.

  While the guy who checked our tickets called it the tunnel.

  So who really knew?

  All I knew for sure is that I was more than a little disappointed there wasn’t any flying involved.

  And I don’t mean flying on an airplane flying, I mean the kind of flying usually reserved for birds, or butterflies, or angels, or maybe even dead people like me.

  The kind of flying you sometimes get to experience in your dreams, when you just take off and start soaring through the clouds for no apparent reason.

  That’s the kind of flying I was hoping for.

  And when it didn’t happen, when I realized we’d be stuck with the same old methods of transportation I’d known back home, well, I’m not even sure why I was so disappointed. Especially since, up to that point anyway, nothing in the afterlife was anything at all like I’d expected. So why would flying be any different?

  “Wrong again,” Bodhi said, eavesdropping on my thoughts, which, by the way, was really starting to get on my nerves in a very big way. I mean, it was bad enough knowing my entire existence had been documented, but having what I once thought of as my private thoughts so easily accessed by my afterlife guide, well, it really bugged me.

  “There is flying.” He nodded, not bothering to push his hair back when it fell into his face yet again, just leaving it to hang there, dangling before his glasses, like a thick, greasy noodle. “And trust me, it’s as fun as you think, if not funner.”

  “Funner?” My eyes grew wide as a smile pulled at my lips. “You sure about that—that it’s actually funner?”

  I couldn’t help it, I just burst out laughing right there in front of him. And I’m talking the eye-squinching, belly-clutching kind of laughing. But he just ignored me, and continued yammering on and on as though I hadn’t even called him out on his grammar.

  “It doesn’t require wings like you think,” he said, straightening his legs until they took up the two empty seats on the aisle right across from me and dangled off the end.

  “So, when do I get to fly?” I asked, calming myself down enough to look right at him.

  Watching as he leaned down to scratch Buttercup between the ears, glancing at me when he said, “All in good time.”

  I rolled my eyes, already sick of the phrase and correctly assuming I hadn’t even come close to hearing the last of it. Scrunching way down in my seat, bringing my knees to my chest, and wrapping my arms tightly around them as I stared out the window, trying to grasp hold of the passing scenery, to pause it, to make sense of it, but the train was moving so fast it was hard to grasp any one thing in particular. Still, I had this sort of inner sense of a whole stream of images. Like a continuous flow of pictures, events that happened on the earth plane, including stuff that was both way before me, and way after me.

  The entire story of mankind.

  The history of time.

  And even though it was impossible to tell just how long the journey took, it didn’t seem like it took all that long. Or at least not nearly as long as you’d think a trip like that would take. And before I knew it we were out of the tunnel, off of the tube, and standing on a platform as Bodhi looked all around us and said, “This is it.”

  A gush of wind swept past me as the train we’d just disembarked vanished from sight, leaving the three of us gazing all around, trying to get our bearings in a place that, while I was sure it was part of the earth plane, didn’t look even the slightest bit familiar.

  I stayed focused on Bodhi, hoping he knew where he was going as he wordlessly led us down one street, and then another, before reaching a long, narrow alleyway which eventually let out onto a narrow cobblestone lane. He pointed up toward the sky and said, “That’s it.” Then he paused for a moment before adding, “I think.”

  “You—think?” I narrowed my eyes, the miniscule amount of confidence I’d granted him gone, just like that.

  “No, I’m sure of it. Really. That’s definitely it,” he repeated, straightening his shoulders and nodding firmly, trying to appear certain, commanding, like a confident sure-footed guide, but still I had the sinking feeling he was as clueless as Buttercup and I.

  “So, what is it exactly?” I said, following past the tip of his pointing finger, trying to squint through the clouds, gray skies, and extreme fog but not getting very far.

  “That, right up there.” He continued to point into the distance, at what I was sure was nothing in particular. “That’s where we need to be. Warmington Castle. That’s where he lives.”

  “He?” I turned, taking him in, fully aware of Buttercup pressing himself hard against my legs in a way that told me he didn’t feel any better about this than I did.

  Watching as Bodhi smiled, closed his eyes, and manifested two skateboards, a black one for him, and a purple one for me. Wasting no time before jumping onto his and glancing over his shoulder as he said, “Your first subject awaits. The Radiant Boy. Now follow me, and try to keep up.”

  11

  All I can say about the skateboarding is that Bodhi did not ride at all like I’d assumed he would. Because to be honest, I expected to see a pretty bad spectacle—a real wince-worthy display. But the truth is, he didn’t fall, didn’t wipe out, didn’t even falter the slightest bit.

  On the contrary, he did so many loops and turns and spins and tricks—it was all I could do to keep pace.

  I guess I just didn’t see that coming.

  I was stunned in every conceivable way.

  And just in case you think it can all be attributed to the fact that he’s dead—well, think again. I’m dead too, and I could barely stay upright, much less loop and spin my way up and down those winding, swooping, curving hills. Nope, that was pure skill on his part, a skill I clearly lacked. And by the time we’d reached the top, I watched as he clicked the end of his board in a way that made it flip effortlessly into his hand as he looked me over and said, “Told you I was about to go pro.” He tilted his head, motioning toward the building before us. “So, what do you think? It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. Because even though it was my first castle, a fact that left me pretty much in awe and eager to be impressed, it was obviously one of the good ones. Made of smooth, grayish stone, it was tall and impressive and seemed like it meandered forever. Dotted with lots and lots of those high, pointy towers I think they call turrets. The only thing missing was a moat filled with alligators, but I was willing to overlook that.

  I swallowed hard, unsure if I really was ready for this. I mean, if I lived in a place this amazing, I might not be so willing to give it up either.

  Keeping a nervous eye on Buttercup who was off sniffing and marking the extensive, well-manicured grounds, I cleared my throat and said, “So, what exactly is it we’re doing here anyway?” Discreetly kicking my skateboard under a nearby bush, hoping I wouldn’t be required to use it again anytime soon.

  “This is where he lives,” Bodhi said, his voice filled with reverence. “The Radiant Boy. He’s been here for years. Centuries, really.”

  “Why do you call him that?” I squinted, more interested in delaying than in getting the actual answer.

  “Because that’s his name.” He shrugged, chewing on his bottom lip in this weird way that he has.

  “So, you’re telling me that his mom actually named him the Radiant Boy?” I shook my head and rolled my eyes, fingers drumming against my wool, plaid skirt. “No wonder he’s still here, still haunting the place. He’s angry. He wants a do-over. A second chance with a better name. It’s not his fault. The kid got a bum deal.”

  Bodhi peered at me from the corner of his eye, clearly not amused. “No one knows his real name, or even where he came f
rom. All that’s known about him is that he’s spent hundreds of years scaring people. The how and why is a mystery, and that’s where you come in.”

  He turned toward me, staring right into my bugged-out eyes and wide-open mouth. My guide, my boss, my teacher, my coach, whatever he was, whatever authority he claimed to have over me, I sincerely doubted he truly had the power to just expand upon my job description like that. The Council already told me I’d be trained as a Soul Catcher, one who catches earthbound souls and makes them move on. That’s it. No one ever said anything about learning people’s personal histories, motivations, or solving mysteries of any kind.

  “Last I heard, it was my duty to lead him to the bridge, nothing more, nothing less,” I said, wanting him to know, before this went any further, that while he may shame me when it came to skateboarding, I was not one to be messed with.

  He smiled. Well, he almost smiled—his lip lifting just the tiniest bit at each corner, before dropping back down again. “And, just how exactly do you plan to do that without gaining his trust first?” he asked.

  I gulped. I hadn’t really thought about that. Hadn’t really thought about much of anything past returning to the earth plane again. And now that I’d made it, and realized the enormity of my task, well, let’s just say it was making me start to miss my new school, Perseus, cheerleader girl, tunic boy, and all that went with it.

  I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very small and inadequate, unsure if I was really equipped to handle any of this.

  And it’s not like Bodhi was about to make it easier. He just went on and on, like some narrator in one of those boring documentary films they make you watch on rain days at school, saying, “He’s known to be a golden-haired specter who actually glows in the dark, and the legends all claim that seeing him is an omen of misfortune or doom. Though, in the last century, that seems to be disproven, as many people have seen him and not one of them, or at least not yet anyway, have, um, found their doom—so to speak. Also, there are more rumors about him maybe being German and perhaps even murdered by his own mother, but again, that’s just purely speculation. What I can tell you for sure is that there’ve been many accounts of a series of Radiant Boys haunting various castles in both Cumberland and Northumberland counties, but my guess is that all those others are fakes, a lie started by the castle owners in an attempt to compete with Warmington and try to draw business and put themselves on the map. Not to mention how—”

  “Wait—what counties did you say?” I asked, gazing at the large stone castle before me, and stalling in the very worst way.

  “Some counties here in England. Anyway, they also say—”

  “Wait—we’re in England?” I looked at him, eyes wide with excitement. That was the first good news I’d heard all day. Bodhi nodded, eager to continue with his lecture, but I wasn’t interested. I was still stuck on the part that I’d just made my first international trip. “So, can we check out London? After we’re done with—um, pushing the Radiant Boy across the bridge?” I asked, discreetly crossing my fingers and hoping we could, because that would make it all worthwhile. That would be really, really cool.

  Bodhi frowned, clearly annoyed, saying, “Yeah, sure, whatever. But first you need to pay attention. You need to know just what you’re dealing with here. Not to mention how nobody is pushing anybody anywhere. You will coax him, and convince him; he has to cross over on his own volition.”

  I glanced at Bodhi, thinking how funny it was how one minute he was like any other normal fourteen-year-old kid using words like funner, and the next he was all serious and businesslike, using words like volition. And as someone who also likes to mix up my vocabulary a bit, I decided I’d like him for that.

  But only for that.

  I gazed up at the castle, overcome by excitement.

  I was going to London!

  Home of Robert Pattinson, Daniel Radcliffe, Princes William and Harry, not to mention my dad’s all-time favorite band, the Beatles (okay, maybe, technically, they were from Liverpool—but still, it was close enough for me).

  All I had to do was rid this place of a ghost and I was there. Convince some pampered mama’s boy with an unfortunate name who refuses to give up the big house with the fancy gardens and fountains and pointy-topped turrets to move on to, well, from what I’d seen of it, a really weird school and a really uncomfortable life review.

  And in that moment, I knew I could do it. Easy peasy. I had all the motivation I’d need. I mean, seriously, I was so suddenly sure of myself, I was just brimming, overflowing with confidence.

  Cutting off Bodhi’s never-ending speech when I said, “Okay, so let’s cut to the chase here. What exactly am I dealing with? Just how old is this kid?” Figuring it was best to go in with a plan, and knowing his age would tell me just how to approach him.

  Either he was younger than me, and therefore less scary, maybe even completely inferior in every way. Or he was older, and, well, I’d have a little more work cut out, but nothing I couldn’t handle for sure.

  “I don’t know.” Bodhi sighed. “Nobody knows. This kid’s a real enigma, a complete and total mystery. But some say he appears to be around ten.”

  “Ten?” I gaped, glancing between the castle and Bodhi. I could hardly believe my good luck. This kid, this scary ghost kid, was only ten? “Please.” I laughed, shaking my head and allowing for a slow, dramatic roll of my eyes. “I remember ten.” I blew my bangs off my face, squared my shoulders, and straightened my skirt, preparing myself to go in. “So, where is he? Where’s this scary little ten-year-old kid? Let me at him. I’ve got a trip to London waiting for me.”

  Bodhi looked at me, obviously weighing something in his mind. Clearly deciding against whatever it was, when he shrugged and said, “Fine, we’ll do it your way. For now. Follow me.”

  12

  Buttercup and I followed him across a large garden, cutting across a path of carefully trimmed hedges that made for a pretty complicated maze for those who couldn’t just walk straight through them like we could. Continuing right past the thick stone wall and emerging on the other side into a huge, oversized room with a super high ceiling, large stained-glass windows, threadworn rugs, dusty chandeliers, and, like, a ton of old things that I guessed to be priceless antiques.

  “He’s said to haunt the blue room,” Bodhi whispered, even though no one was present and no one could hear us. His eyes darting all around until he spied the large, sprawling staircase, dropped his board, and skated toward it.

  “So, this place has so many rooms they have to color code them?” I asked, having visited more than a few celebrity mansions in my earlier dead days, but never an actual castle, never anything quite so big and sprawling and amazing as this.

  But Bodhi just shrugged, having already reached the top of the landing and tilting his head to the right as he said, “If I remember correctly, it’s that way, third door on the left.”

  I stopped. Stopped right there in my tracks. Not liking the sound of that. Not liking it one measly bit.

  “What do you mean if you remember correctly?” I studied him closely, trying to find some kind of tell, some kind of giveaway nervous tick, twitching eye, jerking knee, something. But other than that odd chewing of his bottom lip, I got nothing. He was stone-faced. Completely unreadable. Unwilling to give anything away. “You mean you’ve been here before, right?” I continued to probe, knowing he was hiding something, something I might very much need to know, for future use if nothing else, and I was determined to make him spill. “Was it for the Radiant Boy? Were you sent here to convince him to move on? And if you were, does that mean you failed? Does that mean you were unable to—” I raised my hands, curling my fingers into air quotes when I said, “coax and convince the ten-year-old to cross the bridge?”

  He looked at me, his eyes betraying nothing when he said, “It’s a long story, Riley. One we clearly don’t have time for if you want to make it to London.” And even though his voice was curt, and more than a little dismi
ssive, it didn’t work. I was on to him now. I could feel it in my nonexistent bones.

  He’d failed, where I was about to conquer.

  Ha! Some guide he was turning out to be.

  “Fine.” He sighed, giving a little, but only a little. “Let’s just say you’re not the first to have a crack at this kid. Many have tried over the last, uh, several hundred years. But that just means that the bar is set so incredibly low no one’s expecting much from you now. Which is lucky, since ten bucks says you run out of there screaming the first second you lay eyes on him.”

  “Ten bucks?” I rolled my eyes, swinging my blond hair over my shoulder. “Please. I can manifest mountains of ten-dollar bills, as can you. You wanna bet for real, then bet me something that’s actually worth something. Seriously, give me a little something to strive for here.”

  He squinted, lips lifting at the sides when he said, “How about that trip to London? You convince the Radiant Boy to move on, you get your trip. If not—” He shrugged, leaving the rest to hang there, though the meaning was clear.

  But I just shook my head. We’d already decided I was going, all I had to do was get the job done in a timely manner. No way was he changing the rules now. Not after they’d already been set.

  He turned away, trying to hide the smile that snuck onto his face. The smile I didn’t have to see to know it was there. By the time he turned back again it was gone, wiped away clean, and replaced by a look of deep skepticism when he said, “Fine, you don’t run out of there screaming, you succeed where all others have failed, you actually get the Radiant Boy all the way across that bridge and I’ll teach you how to fly to London, okay? There. How’s that?”

  And when he looked at me, it was clear he was proud of himself. So sure that it would never happen, that I’d fail miserably, and the whole thing would be off.

  Which was fine by me. As the youngest in my family, I was used to being underestimated, and I loved nothing more than to prove everyone wrong.