Roxie had eaten the entire box of the Atkins bars before she’d sped her way back home. The original bars had never disappeared from Luis’s desk, but her body back in the spirit world was already responding to the sustenance. Still, it was far from enough.
Grandma grabbed a pencil from a holder sitting next to the phone, retrieved a spiral notepad from a kitchen drawer, and sat back at the table. “I’m ready.” She held the pencil poised over the green pad.
“I apologize this might sound strange, but Roxie assured me all of this is necessary. First off, you need to build a little altar for her. Get a bunch of pictures of her, some candles, flowers, white sage, and some incense sticks. The incense will attract spirits, and the same goes for the candles and flowers, and the white sage will keep away negative spirits. The pictures will declare who the food is for and help Roxie claim it. It doesn’t matter how you arrange everything on the cloth so long as you leave a spot for whatever food you offer up to her, and so long as everything is in a location that will remain undisturbed. Normally, you’d place everything in front of a gravestone but, since she’s not dead, it doesn’t matter. Do you have all that so far?”
Grandma nodded as she scribbled down the lack of particular arrangement detail. “Yes. Why does she need me to feed her? I don’t understand.”
“She told me that she still has her bodily needs, but the spirit world doesn’t have any food and such, so it’s up to us to give her a hand.”
Grandma nodded again. “Is there anything else I need to do?”
“Yes, one more. You need to perform a short Sending ritual to send the food to the spirit world. It’s like a short prayer. You can say it aloud or in your head, but it must be recited every time, or it won’t become available to her, okay?”
“I understand. What are the words?”
“All you have to say is ‘I offer up this gift out of love. May it help you on your journey.’ And that’s it.”
“How often do I feed her?”
“She’s not sure, but we both agreed that you should leave her something once a day, and as much as she’d normally eat. She can get back in contact with me if it turns out to be too much. Whatever you do, don’t eat any of the food you place on the altar after it’s been offered up. It’ll upset your stomach. And don’t remove the food until the next meal, just to be safe. And all that should do it.”
“That’s it?” Grandma wrote down “eat offerings” and drew an oval around the words with a diagonal slash across the middle.
“That’s it. Set up the altar and start feeding her as soon as you can, then get on a regular schedule in the morning.”
“I don’t have any incense or white sage,” Grandma said, glancing at the kitchen.
“Don’t worry. Those two things are just precautionary, but don’t wait too long. And don’t hesitate to call my cell number if you have any questions or concerns. I’m here for you.”
“Thank you. As strange as her situation is, I’m so glad to hear she’s alive.”
“Me, too. You’ve got a wonderful granddaughter. And I don’t mean to draw this conversation to such an abrupt close, but I was in the middle of a meeting that I need to get back to before people start getting worried.”
“I understand. Thank you again and good night.”
“Good night, ma’am.”
Grandma hung up and stared at her phone, and then at her notepad. She got up and hurried down the hall.
Roxie meant to follow after her, but Sekiro’s alarmed voice stopped her.
“Roxie, I need to take you back to the spirit world immediately. We’ve got new problems.”
“What problems?” Sight of inside her house faded to darkness. She felt Sekiro’s hand slip out of her skull and her forehead tear away from hers. Fatigue and hunger clawed at her, and her headache returned with incessant blows to her temple. All that discomfort paled in comparison to the ring of dead people closing in on her, their eyes boring into her with hungry stares.
Chapter 4
Pursued by Darkness
Sight of the dead people gave Roxie goosebumps and a lump in her throat, choking her ability to scream. The people were more shadow figures than anything, yet half of them still had pronounced faces. The rest were just black, humanoid outlines. Roxie drew her sword and lurched to her feet, propping herself up against the lighthouse. They were closing in on her from all sides, and from probably the other side of the Buffalo Main as well.
She would’ve simply flown off, but her pounding headache was making her vision blur. She gritted her teeth as she held out her sword, fully aware that she had no idea how to fight with it. Sekiro stood beside her, eying the shadow people with trepidation.
“Roxie, we need to get out of here. Start flying already!”
Roxie clutched at her temple and the shield latched to her left arm blocked her vision. She unwillingly let go and held the shield out protectively in front of her. “Wait for my headache to subside a bit. It’s making me feel nauseous. I don’t want to throw up what I just ate.”
Sekiro whined and fluttered her wings, but stayed put.
The shadow people were only several steps away, but closing in on her slowly, more drifting than walking. “Should I run or fight them?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice on the edge of tears. “I’m experiencing so many firsts with you. I’m going nuts not knowing how to help or guide you.” She fluttered her wings again.
“Do you think it’ll be a bad thing if I hurt them with my sword? I know they’re dead, but they’re still people, right?”
“They are. Very lost people. We Numina can do nothing to help them until they snap out of their current state and seek help.”
Roxie could reach the nearest ones by lunging with her sword. “How long does it take for them to snap out of it?”
Sekiro hunched her shoulders. “Long explanation short: some never do. It’s very sad.”
Roxie sheathed her sword and held up her hands unthreateningly. She’d have to remember how to detach her shield later. “Hey! Everyone, stop!” Shouting didn’t help her headache, but she had to make herself heard. If these ghosts were still people, then there was no point in attacking them with her sword. The shadow people directly in front drifted within arm’s reach and kept creeping closer, their gliding footsteps silent. “I said stop! Please! What do you all want?” She pressed her back and wings into the lighthouse. The nearest shadow people reached out for her with arms that rose like black flags billowing in a sudden breeze. Roxie drew her arms to her chest.
One of them whispered, “Energy.” Its voice drew out the last syllable and sent shivers up and down Roxie’s spine.
Roxie swiped at the nearest amorphous arms. Her hand went right through them, but those she swiped through stuck like a squid’s tentacles latching onto prey. She let out a cry of alarm as she tried to shake off their freezing grip. The shadow people touching her stopped moving and went rigid. Their forms solidified, filled out, and became detailed to the point where their clothes were visible and faces readable, fingers clamped around her forearm. At the same time, it felt like she was being drained of energy--not the power that made her a fully-realized Aigis, but the energy that kept her alive.
The people that had robbed her of energy let go, grinning with mouths stretching wider than their eyes. Something wasn’t right with their eyes as well, but she couldn’t focus her blurred vision on them. What she was able to notice is that the energized people came from varying eras. One was a Native American, another a Colonial man, and the third someone from the early 1900’s. They let go.
Roxie clutched her frozen arm to her chest. She could still move her fingers, but slowly.
“Roxie, move! They don’t care if their greed kills you. Just get away from them!” Sekiro fluttered into the air, but stayed just above Roxie’s head. None of the shadow people’s gazes followed the Numina.
Guarding her face behind her fists, Roxie barreled forward at superhuman speed. S
he knocked over the people who’d stolen her energy but passed right through the shadow figures, and just like before, their limbs latched on to her. There had to be hundreds of them. Their touch intensified her nausea, making flying out of the question. It felt like she was wrapped in ice.
Once she broke out of the crowd on the other side, she noticed her body was lost in shadow from upper arm to her ankles, making out her ornate boots through small gaps in the dozens of shadow tendrils clinging to her. She slowed her stride as she tried to wrench herself free, flailing her arms and lunging this way and that, but it worked as well as trying to detach her own shadow. She turned and walked backwards, the tendrils hindering her no more than if she’d changed sleeping positions under her sheets. The shadow people followed her at a walk, which was faster than their creeping pace from when she’d first seen them. Hundreds of black shadow ropes stretched between her and them, and they didn’t waver or wobble. She reflexively swiped at the elongated shadows, but her arm passed through every last one. Desperate, she drew her sword and swung upwards and her weapon swished through air.
“Keep running, Roxie,” Sekiro said from above her. “The more distance between you and them, the better.” She alighted next to her and, grabbing ahold of one of Roxie’s arms, began prying off the shadows with her free hand as she walked with her.
The tendrils lengthened in Sekiro’s grip and reattached to Roxie, filling her with fresh waves of icy numbness, and she gasped for air as she stamped out one step after another.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sekiro ran at the shadow people with her arms in the air. “All of you stop! Leave her alone. Her energy doesn’t belong to you.” She began shoving them one by one with a palm to their shadowy semblances of faces. Each of them reeled back and straightened up like punching bags, and resumed their walk.
Three solid figures pushed their way through the shadow mob, past the front line, ignored the Numina, and headed straight for Roxie.
Roxie held her sword and shield up, and the Colonial man led the other two solidified shadow people. He looked like someone straight out of an Amish community. He also looked insane with his unnaturally wide grin and intent stare. He strolled along the shadow tendrils, and reached out. Roxie swung her sword at his hands, and this time her blade met resistance as it cut through flesh and bone. Her superhuman strength made it feel like slicing through cooked meat wrapped around a toothpick. She almost let go of her blade in disgust, even though no blood dripped from the severed appendages, which evaporated into nothing once they hit the trimmed grass.
Holding his arms in front of him, the Colonial man let out a horrendous scream. It sounded like a human voice that carried through the air with the intensity of a wolf’s howl.
Before Roxie realized what she was doing, she jabbed the man’s neck with her shield arm, cutting the scream short with a choking sound. He staggered, but got his feet back under him and lunged for Roxie, stumps leading the way. She thrust her sword into his chest as she shielded her face. More flesh and bone scraped along the blade. She recoiled her weapon and pushed the man away. He hit the ground with a soft plop, but didn’t evaporate like his hands had.
Roxie stared at her clean weapon, then at the gaping, bloodless wound. It was just a hole in the chest through which she could see grass. “Did I--?”
The other two solidified shadow people stepped over the fallen man and came at her like bears dropping their massive frames on prey. Roxie backed out of their attack, swinging her sword horizontally, even though she didn’t want to stab another. That seemed unavoidable, though. The tendrils clamped to her hindered her movements to the point where she felt like she was moving in slow motion, yet could achieve short bursts of speed. She willed her feet to carry her backwards as she held her sword between her and the shadow people.
The Native American circled towards her from her shield side. Roxie held her shield out towards him while leaving her sword pointing towards the mob and early 1900’s man. Industrial age? Her shield had a cutting edge along the bottom corner on her fist end. The edge curved into a jagged section that aligned with her knuckles. Two triangular points jutted out farther than the rest of the metal teeth. Had she come up with such a shield with her own imagination, or had some other power been at work? Had it helped shape her preconceived notions of what an ultimate warrior and protector looked like?
As much as she wanted to be as strong and dependable as Aerigo had been, she didn’t want to lead the soldier’s life.
Still, she already had two kills to her name, counting the Elf assassin Kabiroas. She was about to add two more, along with dozens more if she didn’t suck up her headache and nausea and fly off.
Roxie detached herself from her emotions, detached herself from knowing what these shadow people were underneath their hostility, detached herself from knowing that her brutal defenses were murderous.
She lost awareness of her physical ailments and slipped into mental state of calm. The world around her slipped into what felt like a dream state and the shadow people closed in on her with surreal slowness. Roxie turned to the Native American and bashed him in his shadowy face with the flat of her shield, then followed with a stab in his chest. The blade slipped in and out in a blur. If she cut through bone, she didn’t feel it. She turned on the industrial man, who’d thrown himself at her in a full-body lunge. Sidestepping, Roxie deflected him with her sword arm, then came down on his back with the teeth of her shield. She aimed her blow, severing the spine, but didn’t feel the disgusting sensation of mutilation she’d expected. The man’s body went limp.
Roxie straightened up and faced the mob with cold calm. They were only a few steps away, their tendrils growing thicker as the neared. She swung her sword through them again, but they remained firmly attached to her.
Sekiro was still among the shadow people, frantically trying to push or pull them away. They swayed under her force, but otherwise ignored her and resumed closing in on Roxie.
“Sekiro, let’s go.” Roxie’s voice came out flat and emotionless. She sounded like someone who felt like they had all the authority in the world, and wouldn’t hesitate to take on and take down anyone who challenged them. The sound of it almost knocked her out of whatever mental state she’d slipped into. She forced herself to stay there. She needed it if she was going to get away from these stupid shadow people.
Sekiro turned at the sound of her name and her eyes widened. “Your eyes are glowing white. I thought you said they only glow red, yellow, or blue.”
Roxie sheathed her sword. The icy numbness from the tendrils was returning, and it was eating away at her calm. She turned and took flight with one heavy downbeat of her wings, then kept beating them to gain altitude.
“Roxie, wait!”
Sekiro’s buzzing wings drew closer. Roxie beat her wings faster, making a point to stay ahead, flying towards the inner city, no particular destination in mind; all that mattered was getting away from the shadow people.
“Don’t lead the way!”
The tendrils’ grips thinned to the point where her limbs and torso began to look striped like a tiger. They tugged at her--not physically, but emotionally. They filled her with a yearning that wasn’t her own, a yearning to turn around and fly back to them. The feeling cracked her emotionless calm and tears welled in her eyes. Her wingbeats slowed and she looked over a shoulder. Sekiro was headed straight for her, eyes wide with fright and arms reaching for her. The tendrils stretched as thin as fishing line, and the shadow people watched her retreat, one huge black mass that ringed the lighthouse like a drop of water hanging off, about to drip towards the city.
Sekiro ducked under Roxie’s wing and, in one swift motion, grabbed her arm and took the lead, picking up their pace. “Man, your arm is heavy!” She snatched a look before facing forward once more. “What did I say about you always following my lead?”
Roxie didn’t care what she’d said. All she cared about was the fact that the tendrils were losing their icy grip on h
er. They shrunk into nothing, and then her body heat seeped out from her core. Right after a downward stroke, she allowed herself to sag with relief, taking Sekiro with her.
“Ack!” Sekiro fell on Roxie’s head.
The Numina’s weight didn’t feel like much, but it was enough for her tender temple. Roxie lost all forward moment and began to plummet. Sekiro beat her wings and yanked on Roxie’s arm with both hands, but they continued sinking. Roxie let go and angled downwards, building momentum like a diving falcon, then arced up and circled back towards Sekiro, going around a lightless building to catch back up. Once they were close enough, Roxie said, “Which way?”
“Away from the lost souls.” Sekiro waved her onward.
They headed deeper into Buffalo at a leisurely pace, Roxie taking a moment to enjoy being free of the shadow people’s grips. Yes, her head hurt and she felt sick to her stomach, but those two things would go away in time. She still felt cold but her healing abilities had already heated her most of the way up.
After flying for a few blocks the sky seemed to grow darker. The sun was still showing but the light seemed to be shining through a black filter.
“What’s going on?” Sekiro said, reigning in to hover over a hotel.
Roxie pulled up beside her, beating her wings hard to stay aloft and in place. “I was just about to ask you the same. Welcome to another first with me, I guess,” Roxie said ruefully, gesturing to the darkness blanketing the sky. It looked like someone had thrown a cloak that covered the sky from horizon to horizon, and the material was rapidly thickening enough to blot out the sun. It was like a solar eclipse with no moon.
“We’re finding some cover,” Sekiro said in a tone that brooked no argument. She searched the rooftops, then grabbed one of Roxie’s wrists and yanked her towards the roof of a restaurant.
Determination Page 4