A Song of Forgiveness

by Lillian I Wolfe

TWELVE

  I arrived at Gavin’s house eager to tell him about the conversation I’d had with Cara Gilroy and anxious to meet his colleague. I hoped that he would have some revealing information for us. So, I was stunned when I met Gavin’s friend, Dr. Orielle Chour.

  “Call me Orielle,” she said when he introduced us and I somehow managed a charming smile. A stunning, exotic-looking woman, Orielle’s features reflected her French Cambodian heritage. Slightly taller than I, she wore plum-colored, tailored silk trousers—you couldn’t call them pants or slacks; they had that forties’ movie look—and a mauve blouse that highlighted her features beautifully.

  Immediate jealousy settled like a panther in my psyche, ready to strike out. I performed a mental slap and told myself to behave. So she was beautiful and looked like an Asian goddess, it didn’t alter her reason for being here, and I needed the information she had brought with her.

  “Did you have a good flight in?” I asked as a lame conversation starter. Meanwhile, Gavin poured drinks from a liquor decanter, the pale gold liquid sparkling in cut-crystal glasses and handed one to each of us; her first.

  “Yes. Quite good to San Francisco, but the flight into Reno was somewhat bumpy. Gavin tells me that’s normal.” Her voice had a low sexy quality and her English carried French inflections.

  “It is. The mountains make the air uneven, I guess, and it’s often a bumpy ride in.” I sipped the drink, tasting the sweet tang of the alcohol, and trying to place the flavor, like I had clue with my limited knowledge of fine wine.

  Gavin lifted his glass and said, “Welcome to my home, Orielle. May your visit be fruitful for us all.”

  “Indeed, it must,” she replied and tapped his glass.

  Even though I’d already sipped, I joined in on the toast and lifted my glass toward theirs without actually touching them. The reach would have been awkward.

  “Let’s sit,” Gavin said, motioning toward the furniture around the coffee table. I took the armchair on the left while Orielle seated herself at the far end of the sofa. He settled down in the middle next to her.

  “First off, I filled Orielle in on what’s happened in regards to the shades and how we can both see them. She’s run across references to them in various books and translated scrolls.” He glanced at her.

  “Yes, that is true. I have found many references and just recently I uncovered an interesting and quite old scroll that might hold a key for us. First, let me tell you a little about how these creatures are regarded by those who encountered them in the past.

  “They called them the pacura yiaiwa which, when loosely translated, means soul thief. From what Gavin has told me, that seems an apt description.”

  That must have been the document Gavin told me about when we’d gone to eat. She pronounced the name a little differently with the inflections of a native speaker, but ours was close enough. “Yes. I’ve been calling them soul eaters, but I think the thief fits the regular shades well. They seem to gradually work at the soul until they take all of it. I think the True Shades might be the ones who devour and frankly, I fear that a soul lost to one of them is gone forever. Destroyed.”

  Orielle’s eyes locked on mine as I said it and it felt like she was trying to bore into my brain. Was she trying to reach all the information she needed by osmosis or what? Weirdly, I couldn’t seem to look away from those deep chocolate pools that attempted to penetrate my mind. It only lasted a few seconds before she broke contact and glanced at Gavin before returning her gaze to me.

  “You are an old soul. I can see why you were chosen. I think you may be correct about the destroyer demons. The documents do talk about two levels of these creatures. First, do you understand the planes of existence?”

  “A little, but not very much,” I admitted. I’d looked them up when I’d first landed in the transitional cemetery, but I didn’t learn any details about them. At that time, I’d been reeling from the change in my life and this new ability I’d seemed to gain. I took another sip of the liquor and tried to relax a little. I needed to remind myself that Orielle was on our side, but the look Gavin was giving her made me aware of how entranced he was with her beauty and intelligence.

  “Let’s start there then,” she went on. “We are on the physical plane. This is a solid plane and objects are dense and real. We interact physically with each other and with everything around us. Our existence in it is bound by time.

  “The next plane is the astral plane where our souls or spirit bodies go to rest and prepare for their next lives. It’s a place without time where the spirit can reflect and grow.”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted, leaning forward a bit as I framed my thoughts. “So this plane is the next step up, right? When I am singing, my spirit goes to another place that I call the transitional cemetery or ethereal cemetery and it’s a construct that looks like a cemetery leading to a gate with a tunnel of light beyond. But that isn’t the same, is it?”

  She thought a few moments. “I don’t have an exact name for what you experience, but I think you are correct in calling it transitional. In some religions, it might be considered purgatory. Tell me more about what happens there.”

  Apparently, Gavin hadn’t told her everything, which was a relief in an odd way. For a bit, I felt as if he’d betrayed our confidences. At least now, the decision about what I told her was mine. “I encounter troubled souls in the graveyard. They’re always the ones that I sing for at the funeral, or in one case, related to the deceased. I try to help with their problem or to give them guidance to reach the gate to the light tunnel. I always assumed this is the one so many people have spoken of as the light that guides them to Heaven.”

  She nodded as I spoke. “So, it is not quite the purgatory that religion preaches, but a more benign level. You are there to assist these people. Do you wonder why these specific ones?”

  I stared blankly at her. I hadn’t thought about it that much, but why was I summoned for these people? “I don’t know. I don’t always go to the cemetery when I sing. Sometimes it’s just a service and I sing because I’ve been asked to and nothing happens. But other times, I’m pulled there and the deceased has an issue or some business that needs to be resolved on Earth before they can move on. But why these particular ones? No, I don’t see any specific reasons other than they need help.”

  Orielle leaned back, considering what I’d said. “It would seem your transitional location is somewhere between the physical plane and the astral one, a place where those not quite ready to move to the next plane come and prepare to move on. It might not even seem like a cemetery to the ones who don’t need your help. It is an interesting picture you’re presenting. And this is where you usually encounter the yiaiwa?

  I nodded. “There’s a section of the cemetery that’s foreboding, dark, and evil. I can feel the malevolence from it. I think that section has been usurped by these demons. But where do they come from?”

  “For the most part, metaphysical books don’t speak of the lower planes. They talk of the seven planes, beginning with ours and moving upward. But some references I have seen show there are two lower planes. Those of us, who have been researching this, believe the yiaiwa come from the plane directly below us. They represent the fallen souls. If, as you suggested, this demon is a soul thief, then the souls on this level are particularly tortured, but not totally lost. This might be the Hell that religions preach. It’s a Hell of the soul’s own making. If they can regain their worth, then they can escape.”

  “But that’s just speculation,” I said as I got to my feet, feeling the need for movement, and began walking toward the bookcase as I thought.

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  I turned back toward her and Gavin. “Then, would it be reasonable to assume that the lowest plane is Hell and that’s where the True Shades, the devourers, reside?”

  “Not an unfounded assumption,” Gavin said. “I never believed in Hell as a construct, but this kind of thing seems quite possible.”


  I sighed. “I never believed in Heaven or Hell. I wanted to believe there was something more in the Universe, but the duality scenario didn’t seem plausible to me.”

  “You’re skeptical,” Orielle said with a small laugh. “Most scientists are as well. In fact, many are atheists. If you can’t see and prove it, then it doesn’t exist. But you, and Gavin—and I—have seen what does not exist for others.”

  “You’ve seen one of the yiaiwa?” It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that she might have actually seen one.

  She nodded. “Several, in fact, although not as close as you two have. I’ve traveled in visions during meditation. I have seen them during my travels. They are slipping into our plane, little by little. That is how I have noticed them.”

  “Well, welcome to the team,” I said as if she had just presented her true credentials.

  She flashed a smile. “I like your skepticism.”

  After that, our discussion covered much of what we’d talked about before. Gavin told her how he’d found the puzzle box that had seemed to release an energy form when he’d opened it. He hadn’t thought much of it then, but he began to notice the shades on Earth soon after.

  “Do you think that was what allowed them on this plane?” he asked, his brow wrinkling with concerned lines.

  “It is a possibility,” Orielle replied, drawing it out a little as she considered the option. “But it is only one possibility. I am sure there are more. Until we can piece together more information, getting a clearer picture of when they first started appearing or increased in visitations, then I don’t think we can pinpoint it to one specific event.”

  “What about the other object you found? That ball of filth,” I said, distaste flowing from my mouth as I thought of it.

  “It definitely is a totem of some kind,” Gavin answered. “I found it on a dig and it seemed to come from India, made of ivory. It had some very bad, dark juju attached to it.”

  “Juju,” I said with a wry smile. “Is that a scientific term?”

  “You could feel the bad vibrations from it?” Orielle questioned.

  “A little,” he admitted. He glanced at me as if asking me to tell it.

  I hesitated, but then thought that it would come out sooner or later if we were together. “He asked me to do a reading on it. I can do a little psychometry. It was vile. Horrific images that left a foul feeling within me as if I was filthy all through my body.”

  Even Gavin looked surprised by the intensity of my words and possibly by the description. At the time, I’d just told him it was terrible and refused to touch it again.

  “Wow. I knew you didn’t like touching it, but I had no idea your reaction was that bad.”

  I shrugged, then paced back over to the bookcase, looking at it. “Do you still have it here?”

  “Not in the house, no. I have it in a safe deposit box until I send it back to the owners.”

  “The owners? You mean the University that sponsored the dig? There’s no way anyone would want that in their home. Not if they were sensitive at all to the paranormal at any rate. But I’m glad you don’t have it here.”

  He almost laughed. “It’s actually a beautiful artifact with something terrible attached to it. For a minute, I thought you might be offering to read it again.”

  I shot a glare at him. “Don’t even think it.”

  Orielle cleared her throat and interrupted, “If I may... While you may not want to read that one again, if you have the ability, we might learn more from some of the other objects I have. There are some very old artifacts that I’ve been working with along with the documents I have. One or two of the original scrolls might have some event attached to them and if you can interpret them—”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said, suddenly fearful of what she might be suggesting. Reading objects could be very emotional and it was a skill I’d never really be trained in. I’d only recently gained the talent and I wasn’t consistent, although my track record wasn’t too bad. “I only see things and I don’t always understand what I’m seeing.”

  “Of course, I realize that you might get an impression that is not clear to you. But if you can describe what you see or feel, then perhaps Gavin and I can make some sense of it.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I rubbed my upper arms nervously. I didn’t like the idea of reading these old artifacts, especially knowing what we were looking to find. If there were events or memories attached to the yiaiwa or worse, then they were likely to be vile images, much like the ones I’d gotten from the ivory ball.

  “You don’t need to decide now,” she said. “Think about it, but also consider, if we don’t find an answer, then we may not be able to repel these creatures. They’ve already breached to the transitory level you visit and are showing up more frequently on this plane. What is to stop them from continuing to the astral plane?”

  I caught my breath. “What might that mean? What do you think could happen?”

  Orielle shrugged her shoulders, looking to Gavin, who refilled his glass and took a sip before he spoke. “Well, let’s think a moment. What’s on the astral plane? Free souls. Unfettered and accessible. Can the yiaiwa take the souls at that level? Maybe. Are we stronger at that level, more able to battle them off? Who knows? But if the Soul Eaters, the True Shades make it there, they can destroy the souls. If the soul is gone, there’s no reclaiming it.”

  A shudder shot through me. Oh, crap. That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. How in Hades could we stop them? Right now, I was the only one of us on the interim plane, although Orielle could at least astral project. I turned my gaze to her. “Can you materialize in any form when you do astral travel?”

  “You mean take a physical body? No. I can’t do it. Someone may be able to do it, but not me.” Her eyes asked the question her mouth didn’t.

  “What about if you are in astral form, are you able to fight or take on an opponent in any way?”

  “No, I–I don’t actually know,” she said, her voice reflecting her uncertainty. “But when in spirit form, the soul is vulnerable. If I encountered a lesser yiaiwa in this form, I could probably withstand it as well as I could as a complete soul on the way to the next plane. But if I encountered a True Shade or soul eater, then my soul would be in as much jeopardy as yours. As to whether I could fight, I don’t know. I have never tried to do anything physical, such as hurl objects or wield something on that plane. It’s mostly been observation.”

  I nodded, taking that in.

  “How often have you done it, Ori?” Gavin asked.

  “Maybe a dozen times over several years. It’s not something I do often. I did the first few times to see if I could, then from there, it’s been to document what I’ve done and how true the travel actually is.”

  “So it’s all been experimental,” Gavin went on. “Can you try doing it again and seeing if you can move something?”

  “Like shift a vase across a room? Something like that?”

  Gavin and I both nodded.

  An idea began to form and I spoke aloud as it came to me. “If there are others like Orielle, who can do astral travel and could move objects or interact even with each other, then we might be able to build a fighting force against the shades. Is that possible?”

  Energized, he got to his feet and walked past me to his bookcase where he looked for a book. He pulled out one and flipped it open, scanning the table of contents. He set that one down and pulled out another, repeating the action. Picking up the other book, he brought both back to the couch with him.

  “These are both books on astral travel. In one, the author mentions being able to move an object using his energy while in an astral state. The other one talks about the possibility of doing it, so I think we might have a little homework to do. Gillian, you might be on to something here.” He gave me one of those approving looks you might get from your teacher.

  I also noticed that he hadn’t called me “chica” even once in front of Orielle. Was I reading
too much significance into it?

  While we’d talked, it had grown late and I was surprisingly tired. I’d not had the opportunity to say anything about my own research, nor did I want to with Gavin’s guest there. We said goodnight and planned to meet again on Saturday afternoon. I reminded Gavin that I had a band gig that night, so we made it earlier rather than later and agreed to meet right after lunch.

  As I drove back to my home, I reflected on the other pressing matter in my life; Roger’s death and the police questioning me. I had a feeling that my reading that flash drive had somehow incriminated me into it. Had Moss tricked me into implicating myself? I had a hard time believing he would intentionally do that to me. But revealing how he’d gotten the information had certainly made me look suspect.

  Although at this point, it didn’t seem Roger’s death might be anything more than an accident involving drugs. My own feelings about it confused me. I’d known Roger, even if I didn’t like being stalked by him, and he’d been a fan. Yet, I felt like it should bother me more that he’d died.

  I really wanted to talk to someone about it and that was the one person I couldn’t call–Ferris.

  THIRTEEN

  Since I hadn’t had a chance, or the inclination, to say anything to Gavin about the priest in England, I decided to try to find out a little more on my own. The profile on CaraG showed she lived in a village in the Midlands called Heath Barrow and a little research brought up three churches in the town. Only one was Catholic and, if I was right, that was the only one that had a priest. I found an email for the church, but not a specific one for the Father.

  Thinking carefully, I composed an introductory email to Father Garrity explaining who I was. I touched on my purpose for contacting him, saying I was researching unusual phenomena and someone in my chat group had mentioned his name. I worried that it wasn’t obscure enough that he couldn’t connect it with Cara. But then, if she was the only one who’d ever mentioned the shades to him, he would know right away. I continued by telling him that I would like to talk to him about it more if he would be willing.