Terri’s shadowy eyes did not cry. In his last moments, David looked at her and knew that his Terri no longer existed. He didn’t know where she’d gone. Maybe his Terri had already died. Maybe he’d see her again in the afterlife. He hoped so. All he knew was that Terri was gone and now, so was he.
15. Friend or Foe
Emily
Greta and Tristan’s weeks of stakeout yielded no results.
“The guy hardly ever leaves his apartment,” Greta said.
“But loads of other people go in and out,” Tristan said.
“Sounds like a drug dealer,” Julie said.
Silence. I could practically see hope melt.
“Doesn’t sound promising,” I said at last. “I think you can end your stakeouts.”
“Why?” Greta asked.
“Because he’s probably a smarmy drug dealer, like hundreds of others in this stinking town,” Jake said.
“Yeah, but how do we know that the growing swarm of drug dealers isn’t somehow related to Ciardha being here? If we tail this guy long enough, maybe he’ll lead us to Ciardha like we hoped,” Greta said.
“Maybe,” I said. “But unlikely.”
“Yeah, we’ve got better things to do than spy on a loser drug dealer,” Julie said.
“You might, but I don’t,” Greta blurted out.
All fell silent and stared at her. It was unlike Greta to sound desperate, but that’s exactly how she sounded. My first thought was to laugh out loud at her and start listing the twenty-seven other better things that Greta had to do than waste her time in a car with Tristan, staring at the outside of an apartment door.
Fortunately, I’d begun to learn not to say out loud the first thing I thought.
Alone with Tristan in a car. Of course. What better thing did she have to do than be in a car with Tristan? Nothing.
We had stopped going to school weeks earlier. It had gotten to the point where it was not only a waste of time, but recklessly dangerous. Most of the teachers were turned. Others had left never to return. The same was true of the students. I didn’t know if anyone bothered to show up at school anymore. I didn’t know what any of it meant for our futures. As the weeks passed and the shadow of darkness spread, it seemed less and less likely that we’d ever go to college or have careers or …
Or live any semblance of what used to be a normal life.
Greta was probably as bored as I was. I lived for the few hours I spent each day with our Lucent Tribe. The rest was biding my time, trying not to go bat-shit crazy holed up in my house. The rest was just trying to stay alive.
“Continue it, then,” I said. “If you both want to.”
“Seein’ as how Blondie can’t get enough of T, sure. I’ll babysit her for you,” Tristan said. He winked at me as he said it.
Greta’s face was red. “You’re such a … you’re so …”
“Charming? I think that’s the word she’s looking for, don’t you, J?”
“Yep, as charming as flies swarming horse shit,” Jake responded.
“Traitor,” Tristan said as he playfully punched Jake in the arm. The two of them may have been having fun, but Greta fumed. She doesn’t like fun at her expense.
“You two are not funny,” she said.
I didn’t say a word. On the outside, I tried to give a stern look to the two goading Greta. But on the inside, I couldn’t help but laugh.
At the end of our meeting, Greta, Tristan, Jake and I left together as had become our custom. The late November air had turned from chilly to cold while we’d been inside. I wished I’d worn more than a T-shirt and a hoodie. Thankfully, I was the first to be ‘dropped off’.
“Night, Red,” Tristan said. “See ya tomorrow.” He gave me a bear hug, then turned me loose. I’d started to feel warm in Tristan’s big arms. When he let go, I felt colder than I had before he hugged me.
“See ya tomorrow,” I said.
“Night,” said Greta. “And try to get some sleep.”
I wanted to say, “Yeah, fat chance of that.” But instead I said, “You too. All of you.”
Jake gave his head a nod at me. I wanted him to push the others out of the way and lean in close and kiss me long and hard. But why would he? I’d done everything I could to distance myself from him. After that day we’d touched hands and I’d felt the old spark, I vowed to push thoughts of him aside. I should have been content for ‘just friends’. If I could’ve found a way to hang out and be the old Jake and Emily in the friend zone, then we could have bided our time together in those days. It would have been a hell of a lot more fun. But I couldn’t seem able to be ‘just friends’ with him. Every time I was within a few feet of him, I felt the heat rise in me, my energy soared, and I found myself staring into his eyes and wishing I could feel his arms around me and …
I worked the keys to unlock the four deadbolts. I turned and saw each of their faces before I closed myself in and quickly bolted the locks and pulled the chain across. As soon as I’d locked the chain, I heard Tristan say, “See ya, Red,” through the door. Then I heard their footfalls as they went down the steps and off into the twilight of night.
“Sleep,” Greta had said. I vaguely recalled days when I’d slept in my own bed, a down comforter pulled up over my head, my body cocooned in the warmth.
Since Ciardha took my dad, I hadn’t slept in my own room. I opted instead for the old, lumpy couch in the family room. I got some sleep, but it was fitful. I’d wake aching from the hard sofa, a ridgeline on my cheek from the piping on the cushions digging into my face all night.
As I stepped into the hallway, my house seemed no warmer than the outside had been. I walked to the thermostat in the foyer and dialed it up about five degrees. Just to warm myself up, then I’ll turn it down.
Even though I had money, I tried to be frugal. Okay, I had my dad’s money. But I didn’t know how long it would last. Prices for everything kept going up and up. The fuel bill was twice what it used to be. How much further will it rise? Or will it shut off entirely?
I was one of the more fortunate orphans of Ciardha’s dark game. At least my dad had a good job and was a saver. He’d left behind a healthy bank account and a fat 401(k).
After he’d been taken, I’d freaked out about how I was going to survive. Greta had seen me through that mess.
At first she suggested, “Stay with me.”
It was as generous an offer as it was surprising. I figured Greta wanted me in her house about as much as she wanted to wear a 1970s polyester pantsuit.
But I declined her offer. I didn’t want to leave my house. “What if my dad comes back?” I’d said.
“Then stay with me until he comes back,” Greta had said.
“It’s very generous of you to offer, Greta. But it’s just … I feel like I should stay at my house. It’s my home. It’s all I have left of … them.”
Silence grew between us. Greta finally broke it.
“You’ll need money. And you’ll need to learn how to get online and manage your accounts and pay the bills and stuff.”
I snuffed the snot up my nose and nodded.
“Do you know where your dad keeps his account passwords?”
“I think so. He writes everything down on little pieces of paper and shoves them in the drawers of his desk. It’s a mess, but I’m sure that I’ll find it all in there.”
“Not very organized, is he.”
“Look, he’s a messy genius, and I love him.” Greta never spoke ill of my dad again.
Greta had helped me figure out how to transfer money from his savings to his checking so I could use his debit card to get cash advances to pay for groceries and anything else I needed. Before Ciardha’s foul stench had stunk up our world, my newfound financial freedom would have meant a huge shopping spree, maybe even buying myself a new car. But that thought never occurred to me. My dad was gone, and I was alone.
It wasn’t fun or easy, but I made it work. I held onto my house like it was some kind of lone
fort, the last bastion of freedom and light. And it was. For me, anyway.
Sometimes I wondered. If Fanny hadn’t been stuck in the Umbra Perdita and if it had been her to offer me a place to stay, would I have accepted it? Would I have left my house then? The thought of Fanny made me want to cry. I missed her. Every single day, I missed her.
“I wish you were here, Fan,” I said to the cold darkness of my house.
The empty house had no answer. That was probably a good thing. I had enough to deal with. I didn’t need to start hearing voices.
My body ached from training, and I felt grungy with dried sweat. I wanted to get into the shower and let a long, hot cascade of water wash over me and rinse away the dark residue that seemed to cling to me like dust every time I went out. But I looked upstairs, and my eyes met the near total darkness of the upstairs hall. There could be anything up there, lurking in the dark.
My imagination began to race with visions of red-eyed ghosts and razor-taloned monsters. I knew it was silly. It was the same at night as during the day only darker. But my time in the Umbra Perdita had taught me that sometimes, nightmares become real.
Stop it, Emily. Stop it. There are no monsters in your house. Still, I couldn’t get my legs to make the trip up the stairs to a hot shower.
Food it is, then. I walked down the hall to the kitchen. I turned on every light along the way as I went and chased away the shadows of early evening. I switched on the oven and dug around in my freezer for my last remaining frozen pizza. I know you’re in there somewhere. My fingers were almost numb from the cold by the time I found the thin, square box, which held what may well have been the last frozen pizza in all of the city. I unceremoniously unwrapped it, dusted the ice crystals off of the top, and chucked it in the oven.
I felt a shiver despite the fact that I stood by the warming oven.
I did turn the heat up, didn’t I?
I padded back down the hall. The thermostat was set on 70, but the temperature read a mere 58.
Did I forget to pay the bill? Or have we lost gas supply now?
I cranked the heat another five degrees anyway and went back to the kitchen. I planned to pour myself a glass of the watered-down crap they sold as orange juice at the market. But as I entered the kitchen, the air felt even colder than it had in the hallway. I decided to bag the refrigerator and headed to the coffeepot instead. I’d already used the grounds three times, but even watery and weak, it would be warm. I flipped the switch to get the coffee started. As I stood with my back to the room, mindlessly listening to the water in the pot heat up, I had the realization that I was not alone.
My pulse quickened. A mustache of sweat beads broke out on my upper lip. Despite the chill in the air, I began to sweat like a runner in the park in summer. My gut seized with panic.
Don't panic. A Priestess is calm in the face of danger. Breathe.
I sucked in a low, slow calming breath. I slowly opened the silverware drawer in front of me and grabbed a steak knife.
It's no Singing Sword, but it will have to do.
I turned slowly and deliberately, expecting to find a Dark Mobster or maybe even Ciardha. Instead, the person I saw sitting at my breakfast bar made me drop the knife.
Draicha!
Draicha had appeared to me three times while I was in the Umbra Perdita. Each time he’d appeared, he’d offered me help. In fact, he was the only person or thing in the Umbra Perdita who had helped me at all. And there Draicha sat in a chair at my breakfast bar as if he belonged there. Am I dreaming this?
As in the Umbra Perdita, Draicha dressed in black from head to toe. His fedora of black felt was trimmed with a satin ribbon of the same color, covering most of his jet-black hair. His coal-black suit contrasted intensely with his alabaster-white skin. His black cat sat on the counter beside him. Draicha’s hand languidly stroked its smooth head.
“Draicha? But … how? Why?”
“The how is not nearly so important as the why.”
“Then why?”
“You are in need.”
“Me and most everyone else on the planet.”
“You have a particular need at this time. A need that I am able to assist you with.”
“Particular need? Me?” I went silent, trying to think about what need Draicha referred to. I couldn’t see that I had a need any different from countless others that suffered just like me. I wasn’t the only one to lose a loved one to the shadows. I saw Taisha’s face in my mind, the anguish written on her like newsprint. What was my pain compared to hers?
In the Umbra Perdita, Draicha had always arrived in the nick of time, and I’d learned to feel relieved when I saw him. But for some reason, seeing him in our world at my breakfast bar didn’t comfort me. It felt … off.
“How did you get here and into my house?”
“The how is a mystery I choose not to reveal.”
In the Umbra Perdita, I’d clung to Draicha’s words, his counsel, and his offers of help. I’d even thought that maybe he was Madame Wong in disguise. But Draicha was from the Umbra Perdita, not the Netherworld. I’d needed help for over a year. Why hasn’t he come to me before? If he was of the Umbra Perdita, I knew I had to use extreme caution.
“Draicha, just tell me what you came here to say.”
“Direct, as always.”
“I’m not one for word play or games. Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
Draicha chortled softly. “I shall. You and your friends have been on a quest. A scavenger hunt of sorts, yes?”
I turned my back on him and pretended to check on my pizza. It didn’t need to be checked, but I didn’t want him to see my face when I spoke. I’m a terrible liar.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Oh, but you do. There is someone you would like to find. In fact, someone you would give anything to find.”
“Me? Looking for someone? That’s … I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m not in the mood for a riddle, Draicha.” I opened the door to the oven, pretended to care about what I saw inside, and closed the door back up as I spoke to him.
“I know all about your so-called Lucent Tribe,” he said. “I understand why you are reluctant to admit your involvement in an organization dedicated to worship of the Goddess in these times when she is shunned and unwelcome.”
“I’m not in a tribe.”
“Oh, do not worry. Your secret is safe with me. But no matter. Even if you do not want to admit the truth of it to me, I will help you all the same.”
I turned to face him. “And what help, theoretically speaking, can you give me?”
“The location of the one you seek.”
Careful, Em, careful. Play it cool.
“And who, exactly, is it that you think I’m looking for?”
“The one who owns the shadows, of course.”
“Ciardha?”
“One and the same.”
“And you know where this shadow man is?”
He nodded and never took his eyes from me. He didn’t show even the tiniest hint of emotion on his face. He continued to slowly, sweetly pet his cat. For its part, the creature kept its eyes half closed and looked content.
“Okay, assuming you’re telling me the truth, how is it that you know where Ciardha is?”
“Let us say that I keep a very close watch over the shadows.”
I could feel the blood drain from my face and pool up somewhere in my gut. Ciardha’s location. It was exactly what we’d wanted. Finally, the chance to get our people back. That’s what we hoped, anyway.
I should have been excited, ecstatic even. The location of Ciardha most probably meant finding my dad.
But instead I was scared shitless. The others in the Lucent Tribe didn’t know what we were up against. Okay, except for Jake and Greta. They, too, knew Ciardha’s black current of death. Like me, they had felt their blood boil in their veins as Ciardha’s Dark Energy volts surged through them, cooking them from the ins
ide out.
My body involuntarily shivered, and I wrapped my arms around myself again. The unnatural cold reminded me to watch my step. Things aren’t always what they seem.
“I can’t imagine what I would want with such information, Draicha. If you want to keep your freedom, maybe you shouldn’t go around giving away Ciardha’s location and plotting against him.”
Draicha pulled his lips into a thin smile. He stopped petting the cat and scooped her up as he stood. “Ah, I see that I am wasting your time. I thought that you were a great warrior. Was I incorrect?”
“You’re not … I mean, I am … I was a warrior. Brighid’s warrior. But she’s … Look, I was a warrior of Lucent Energy. But now? I fight mainly to stay alive.”
“Gone? And does that mean that you give up? Is that what Madame Wong would tell you to do?”
My head snapped up. I was suddenly at full attention. As in the Umbra Perdita, his words – the way about him – reminded me of Madame Wong.
And he was right. Brighid’s imprisonment didn’t take away my training or my purpose. I was – no, I am a Priestess of the Order of Brighid. I am a warrior for Lucent Energy.
“Madame Wong would hit me with her cane and tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself. She’d remind me of the ones I love. She’d remind me to stay alive and fight for them.”
“And you must stay alive. This Madame Wong sounds very wise.”
I couldn’t answer for fear that if I thought too long about my master I would cry. In the Netherworld, that crazy place of no time, I’d spent countless hours with Madame Wong. I didn’t allow myself to think of her often because it made my heart ache.
“I have taken the liberty of writing an address on this card. Whether you fight on or not is your choice. I will say only this: they are lost without you.”
The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series Page 58