Afterlife

by Claudia Gray

  There was an awkward pause that made me cringe, but then Dad seemed to pull himself together. “No such luck. But we could come up with a distraction, maybe. A crisis to get her off the grounds for a day. She’d hear about it when she got back, but that would buy us some time to cover our 202 tracks.”

  “She’ ll know I’m in on it,” Lucas said. “After I turned her down flat the other day — she’s got to know. But hopefully I can cover for the rest of you.”

  Mom cleared her throat, like it cost her some effort to speak to Lucas politely. “Mrs. Bethany will suspect us, too, especially if we’re involved in getting her off campus. So we should just agree now that it was the three of us. Nobody else.”

  “Hey, that’s not necessary,” Balthazar said.

  “Spare me the noble routine, okay?” Lucas shot him a look. “Nobody wants that woman on their bad side if they can help it. So don’t be stupid.” To my surprise, Balthazar grinned. “You’re a good friend, Lucas. Though You’ll never admit it.”

  They shared a smile, and I could see my parents realizing that — against the odds — Lucas and Balthazar had actually gotten fairly tight. For some reason, the fact that I loved and accepted Lucas didn’t have as much impact on them as that simple proof of friendship.

  Vic made aT sign with his hands. “Time out from the male bonding, okay? There’s one thing we haven’t talked about — Bianca.”

  “What about me?” I said.

  “You ‘re, like, Superghost, right? So You’re exactly who Mrs. Bethany is gunning for.” Vic looked from person to person, as if hoping someone would contradict him, but of course nobody could. “Okay, so how do we stop her from figuring out that you’re a wraith? And that you’re here? Because she’s got to be on the lookout.”

  “You’ve all been really careful,” Mom said. Her eyes briefly met Lucas’s, as if thanking him for helping to protect me. It was a small moment, but it made me want to hug her harder than ever. “She has to know that Bianca’s changed into a wraith, but maybe — maybe Mrs. Bethany doesn’t realize that she’s here. If she did know, wouldn’t she have tried to capture Bianca before now?”

  I had to admit that was a good point. The traps weren’t for me specifically; Lucas’s room hadn’t been targeted.

  Mom continued, “I don’t like not knowing how much Mrs. Bethany knows, but hopefully it’s about to be a moot point. Within a couple of weeks, 202 I suspect the three of us will have left Evernight Academy forever, and . .. You’ll come with us, won’t you, Bianca?”

  “Wherever you guys are.” I leaned my head on Lucas’s shoulder, with enough weight to make him smile. The glowing strands of my hair fell across his chest. “That’s where I’ll be.”

  Afterward, as everybody prepared to go back into the school, I went invisible, becoming no more than a vapor trailing overhead. Balthazar, I noticed, rose from his seat but didn’t walk away with the others, lingering at the gazebo a moment longer. The moonlight outlined his silhouette amid the scrollwork iron and the ivy.

  I drifted a little lower and whispered, “Are you okay?”

  “Sure,” he said, though his voice was odd. I remembered the Autumn Ball two years ago, when we had walked out here together to watch the stars; it was the night I’d told him that I loved Lucas, and I was still learning how deeply that had affected him. Was he recalling that night, too?

  Balthazar looked up in my general direction and said, “Lucas is heading up to double — check the traps, make sure they’re well hidden. So he won’t be going to bed for at least an hour or so.”

  “Yeah. What about it?”

  “I want you to come into my mind when I’m dreaming tonight.”

  Immediately I knew why he was asking, what he planned to do. “Balthazar … I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We’re headed into a fight. You need your strength.”

  Til be all right. It’s taken me a long time to face what I have to do — but I see it now. We can’t put this off any longer.” His expression was unreadable, but his voice was firm. “Trust me.”

  After spending a couple of months second — guessing him at every turn, for something that hadn’t been his fault to begin with, I owed him that, didn’t I? “Okay. I’ll come.”

  We went back into the school. The great hall’s grandeur was in shreds — the candles were out, the flowers had been knocked on the floor by panicking students, and the orchestra’s bandstand had clearly been abandoned in a hurry. Balthazar unfastened his bow tie and cuffs as he went up the stairs; his footsteps echoed on the stone. After what had happened earlier tonight, I was willing to bet that most people remained wide awake and would be for hours, but nobody was risking wandering around alone at midnight.

  Balthazar didn’t turn on the lights when we entered his dorm room. That was probably so he could have some privacy while he undressed; of course, I looked away regardless. The moonlight was at work again, though, so I could see his shadow against the wall as he slipped off his shirt and unbuckled his belt.

  And he’s not Patrice’s “type “?I thought. !just don’t get that.

  When I heard the covers on his bed rustle, I returned to watching him, hovering just above his bed. Balthazar lay on his side, and he appeared to be one of those lucky people who only had to close his eyes before sleep began. Within a few short minutes, I could sense that he was dreaming.

  Although I felt awkward about doing it — almost as though I were cheating on Lucas just by sharing this with anybody else — I stretched myself thin and dove downward, into the very center of Balthazar’s sleeping mind — And found myself in the forest, again at nighttime.

  At first I thought these were the woods near Evernight, but then I realized that wasn’t right. Most of the trees here were taller, and some of them were hugely thick — ancient, perhaps. In the distance, I could hear a few people talking, and some other sound: horses’ hooves. As I peered through the inky night, I realized that the people were riding in an old — fashioned wagon along a dirt road, and the clothes they wore were unfamiliar, with large hats and long cloaks. It reminded me somewhat of the scene I’d glimpsed in Christopher’s memories of his life, but I sensed this was longer ago.

  “You made it,” Balthazar said.

  I turned to see him standing next to me, wearing the same kind of clothes; because he was closer, I could see that he wore trousers that only came to his knees, with high boots that flared out slightly at the top. His coat was belted, his cloak trimmed with fur. His hat — well, despite everything, I had to smile. “You look like the star of the Thanksgiving pageant.”

  Til have you know, this was colonial high fashion in the year 1640.” Balthazar readjusted his hat so that it sat at a slightly more rakish angle. s More serious now, I said, “Is this what you dream about? Your life?”

  “Sometimes.” Balthazar pointed toward a distant light — the glow of an oil lamp in the window of a small cottage. “Let’s see what we can see.”

  I walked with him through the woods until we reached the clearing for the cabin. It was more primitive than I would have imagined, though when I thought about it, this made sense; Balthazar had probably helped his father build this house with their hands and whatever few tools they’d possessed. Smoke curled up from a slightly crooked stone chimney, and the single window was covered with some kind of waxy paper, rather than glass. A shaggy dog slept next to the chimney, his back to the warmth. Balthazar smiled and leaned down to pet him. “Hello, Fido.”

  Fido didn’t stir. Maybe he couldn’t feel the touch, in dreams.

  Then, from inside, I heard a woman’s voice, sharp and angry. “Your disobedience tasks us, Charity. “

  “I’m ever so sorry, Mother.” Charity’s voice rang out, clear, strong, and not sorry. “But I’m afraid I have to disobey you even more.”

  I’d known this moment was coming from the time Balthazar had first asked me to come into his dream, but that didn’t make it easier to face. To judge by the dread in Balthazar’s eyes, he felt
the same way.

  Balthazar walked to the front door and pulled it open. There I could see Charity, standing in a long, dark dress with a white apron, and a small white cotton bonnet on her head. Her face was younger than I rememb — ered — this was her a couple years before death, when she was only a child. In front of her sat two people who were clearly Charity’s and Balthazar’s parents, dressed in the same stark fashion as their children, their faces stern and unamused.

  Charity grinned, a too — adult expression on a face rounded with baby fat. She tugged her bonnet from her head, exposing her fair curls. “I’m not going to cover my head any longer. In fact, I don’t think I’ll cover any of my body, ifl don’t want to.”

  “The devil has gotten into you, my girl,” boomed their father. He looked like an older, heavier version of Balthazar — but harder, somehow.

  Unpleasant. There was no love in him as he scolded his daughter, only disapproval.

  “That’s right!” Charity laughed out loud, glorying in disobeying her stern parents. “Do you want to see what the devil can make me do?” To Balthazar, I whispered, “Was she always like this?”

  “I used to think it was just rebellion,” he said. “But, yeah. Charity was always looking for trouble, from the beginning.”

  At that moment, Charity noticed us. Her face instantly shifted from gleeful triumph to confusion. “What are you doing here? What is she doing here?”

  “Let me at her,” I whispered. After what she’d done to Lucas, I felt like I could rip her apart.

  “No,” Balthazar said, stepping between us. “She can hurt you here. But for me, this is just a dream. She doesn’t have any power over me.”

  just like she’s attacked Lucas — he’s attacking her.

  Balthazar leaped forward, tackling Charity and sending them both sprawling to the ground. Although their parents protested, neither Balthazar nor Charity paid them any heed; they were dream phantoms only. This fight was for real. She backhanded him savagely. but Balthazar managed to twist one of her arms behind her and thrust her toward the fireplace. When her face was only a few inches from the flames, she started to scream. “Stop it! Stop it! Balthazar, you’re hurting me!”

  “And I hate it.” His voice shook. “You know that I do.”

  “It wasn’t enough to kill me!” She twisted violently in his grasp, trying to claw at him with her free arm, but she couldn’t quite reach. The scene, terrible enough as it was, looked even worse when I realized how childish and helpless Charity seemed. “Now you want to torture me?”

  “I want to leave you alone. Just like you want to leave me alone. But you have to let Lucas go.”

  Charity laughed, though her gold curls began to smolder. “He’s mine. All mine. You loved her better than me, and she loved him better than you. But she ‘ll never have him the way that I do.”

  “You’re going to let Lucas go,” Balthazar repeated. “Or else . .. every single night you go into his dreams to torture him? I’ll come into your dreams and do the same thing back to you.”

  “You don’t have the right! Not after what you did to me!”

  “If I could go back in time and kill myself rather than turning you, I’d do it.” Balthazar was shaking now, either with the effort of holding the 207 struggling Charity close to the fire or from pure emotion. “But I’ve let guilt control me for too long. You’re a menace, Charity. You hunt, and you kill, and I should have stopped you a long time ago.”

  “By killing me?” Charity’s voice had changed; real pain had slipped in. “Again?”

  Balthazar didn’t answer. “You’re going to let Lucas go. You’re going to stop invading his dreams forever. If you ever break your word — ever — I promise you, I’ll know, and You’ll be sorry.”

  Charity tried again to claw at him, but without the same strength. I could smell burning hair. “It hurts. Balthazar, it’s hot.”

  “You’re going to let Lucas go.” Balthazar never flinched, but I saw the dampness shining in his eyes. Despite everything, he wanted to protect his little sister — and despite that, he was willing to do this, for Lucas and for me.

  After a long moment, she whimpered, almost too quietly to hear, “Okay.”

  “Swear it.”

  “I swear! Now stop! Just stop!”

  Balthazar pulled Charity away from the fire and shoved her toward the far corner. Soot had blackened her apron and her cheeks, where I could see the outlines of tears. “This is for her, isn’t it?” She pointed at me, her hand shaking. Her face was so terribly young. “Did you pick another girl to save because you can’t save me?”

  “I can’t save you,” he repeated dully. “But I love you, Charity.”

  She threw the fireplace brush at him and started to cry. That was probably Charity’s version of “I love you, too.”

  As she wept brokenly beside the fireplace, Balthazar rose and walked out, past the now — mute, reactionless forms of his parents. I followed him, saying nothing at first. He paused by the dog for a few more seconds, watching it sleep.

  When I dared to speak again, I said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yeah. I did.” Balthazar pulled his fur — trimmed cloak more tightly around hims·elf. “Charity wouldn’t have stopped any other way.”

  “Will she keep her word?”

  “Yes. Strangely enough, when she actually makes a promise, she keeps it.”

  We began walking farther away from the house into the woods. The air smelled so fresh and clean — there would have been no po!Jution yet, no 208 engines, no smog. “I know that was hard for you,” I said. “To violate the bond in that way. To hurt her.” Balthazar winced, but he said, “I did what I had to do. Maybe Lucas can find some peace now.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Maybe,” he said again, and I knew that Balthazar had seen the same desperation in Lucas that I had.

  Then he lifted his head, looking toward the distance, and a small smile flickered upon his face. I followed his gaze toward another cottage in the very far distance. “What’s that?”

  “That’s where Jane lived.” It was the ·only time he’d ever openly acknowledged his long — lost love to me. I’d never learned what had gone wrong for them, but I knew that his passion for her had endured the four hundred years from then until now.

  Greatly daring. I said, “Do you want to go see her? I could leave.”

  “She would only be a dream.” Balthazar looked down at me sadly. “I’m done with dreams.”

  We took hands for a moment, the briefest of touches. Then I willed myself up and out, toward waking.

  When I appeared again in the dorm room, Balthazar remained asleep. Now, though, he wasn’t dreaming; he just rested. I brushed a hand against his dark curls in gratitude.

  The next day, a cold hush had fallen over the school. Winter’s first hard frost had silvered the trees and the ground, but after last night. that seemed less like nature taking its course and more as though the wraiths had claimed the entire world for their own. The vampire students, mostly petrified of the wraiths, kept to their rooms; even the human students — usually calmer about these things, given that they came from haunted homes — seemed disquieted by the possessions. A few kids had already dropped out; we might not have to work too hard to get the rest of the humans to leave. As I zipped around the school. free at last to move around without fear. I saw almost no one in the hallways and heard no talking or laughter. Frozen, I thought. Frozen in place.

  Mrs. Bethany remained in her carriage house. Once or twice I saw her silhouetted against her windows. Although I doubted she was scared of the wraiths. or of anything. she had apparently decided to remain in a structure that was completely safe from ghostly invasion.

  Had she discovered that her traps were missing yet? If so, she gave no sign. In the meantime. her absence from the school building gave us a brief window to meet without worrying about being observed.

  Everyone gathered in my parents’ apartments. Vic spr
awled on the sofa, a slight fuzz on his cheeks from where he’d failed to shave. Next to him, Ranulf and Patrice drank cups of the coffee my mother had made for us. Lucas took the chair at the farthest end of the room, like he thought my parents might chuck him out at any second, but Mom brought him coffee, too. I stayed near him, and Maxie dared to materialize right at the doorway, where everybody could see her.

  “Next weekend will be our best chance,” Mom said as she set the coffeepot down. “Mrs. Bethany sometimes takes advantage of Riverton trips to leave the school for a couple of days. We can encourage that.”

  Vic brightened. “Yeah, and with the rest of the humans in town on the Friday trip, less chance of us getting found out, right? Oh, man, I just called people humans.”

  “Actually, no,” Dad said. “The vampire students throw their biggest parties of the year when the humans are gone. Which is he!J on the chaperones, but more to the point, makes it hard for us to get something done. But if we wait until the next night, that Saturday — a week from today Mrs. Bethany won ‘ t have returned yet, and we’ll have freedom to work.”

  Lucas and I shared a look. He said, “We were going to talk to some former Black Cross friends of ours in Riverton.”

  “Black Cross,” Mom muttered, in the same tone of voice she used when she swore.

  “It’s Raquel, Mom,” I said. “And Dana, who helped us get away when we were nearly caught last year. They’re our friends, plus they’re fighters, and they have a little experience in capturing wraiths. We should make them a part of this. They could help, both with the wraiths and with getting you and Dad and Lucas away afterward.”

  Mom and Dad clearly weren’t sure what to think, but they nodded. I turned to Maxie. “Okay, when the wraiths are freed, they’re going to . . .

  freak out.”

  “You got it,” Maxie said. “We’re talking about fireworks, like the fourth of July. Energy and light and frost going in every direction. Bianca will 21o have to guide them where they need to go, whether that’s back to their original homes or on to the next realm, whatever. Away from here — that’s the main thing. I’11 help if I can.”