“What is that thing?” I asked.
“Miss Emily not recognize her old friend?”
Old friend? No, it can’t be.
“Hindergog?”
Madame Wong didn’t reply, but the blue orb brightened.
“But, he’d never try to eat me. Hindergog is civilized.”
“Was,” she said.
“What happened to him?”
“Dark Energy,” she said.
“Ciardha! So he did this to Hindergog. But why? Why would he attack such a harmless creature?”
“That one only interested in shadows, not fur.”
“Okay, I’m confused, then. You said Dark Energy was responsible, but now it’s like you’re saying that Ciardha didn’t do this to Hindergog. Which is it?”
“The shadows have grown. Your world not only one affected, youngling. Even the Netherworld is darker. All things change when light is taken from them.”
“That’s why it feels different here and why I can’t make it look like home like I did last time?”
“Yes.”
“But on Earth, people who have been taken over by the darkness, their eyes grow black and it’s like they don’t have a conscience, but they’re still people. They don’t turn into snarling, hairy beasts.”
“Maybe not hairy, but beasts they are. Yes?”
“Well, sort of. I just don’t understand why Hindergog can no longer talk or walk on two legs. It’s like he regressed.”
“Each species affected in its own way. Hindergog was more animal than human, though he not like admit it.”
“Why did he stop attacking me?”
“Madame Wong told him not to.”
I walked toward Hindergog. As I approached, his ears perked up and he pulled his lips back to show his teeth again.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I talked to him as softly and gently as I could.
As I got closer, he began to snarl at me. “It’s okay,” I cooed as I held out my hand. “I want to help you. I can heal those nasty cuts and stop the bleeding.”
I held out my hand so Hindergog could sniff it. It’s what my dad had taught me to do when I meet a dog I don’t know. I hoped it would put him at ease.
He sniffed my hand with his piggish snout; then he continued to sniff up my arm then down my pants leg. At least he’s not trying to eat me.
I knelt in the mist and began to pet his neck fur with my left hand as he continued to sniff my right. His hair was coarse and not all that pleasant to pet, but he seemed to enjoy it. He licked my hand.
“That’s a good boy,” I said in a whisper. I looked into his large brown eyes. He had the same wrinkles in his black skin that Hindergog had around his eyes. And just like the first time I’d met him, the creature’s eyes were droopy and he looked melancholy just like Hindergog.
“It is you,” I said. His eyes met mine, and it seemed like he knew me. I wrapped my arms around his furry body and buried my face in his stinky, wiry fur. “I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t answer me. He couldn’t tell me stories or walk with me anymore.
Another one you’ve taken from me, Ciardha.
“Do not grieve for him,” Madame Wong said. “Hindergog not dead.”
“You’re right. He’s not dead, but he’s imprisoned just the same as Jake and my dad and the others. He’s in there. I know he is. But it’s like he’s trapped.”
“Hindergog not in pain, Miss Emily. Reach to him with your mind and see it true. Hindergog content.”
I did as she said and found that she had told me the truth. There wasn’t a hint of pain or angst in the little guy. His mind was peaceful.
“Maybe this is how he coped with the change,” I offered.
“Youngling may be right.”
I turned to gaze upon the orb that was the new Madame Wong. It was so strange to hear her voice but not see her body or her lined face. Even Madame Wong has changed. I didn’t think she ever changed.
“Madame Wong, what happened to your body?”
“Body heavy burden to carry. Madame Wong shed body like snake shed skin.”
“Do you miss it? Your body, I mean.”
“Miss that bag of water? Hah!” The orb glowed brighter still as I heard Madame Wong cackle with laughter. The thick fog and stillness of the Netherworld muffled her voice and prevented an echo.
I got up the nerve to touch the orb that housed the essence of Madame Wong. I kept one arm around Hindergog’s doggy shoulders as I reached out to touch the glowing ball. But as I reached to touch her, my fingers felt nothing. There was only a slight shimmer of the light as my hand passed through the orb.
“You … you’re so …”
“Beautiful? Yes. Blue good color for Madame Wong.”
“Yes, you are beautiful. But also … well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re so insubstantial. It’s like you’re hardly there at all.”
“Who you call insubstantial? Madame Wong pure thought. You think thought insubstantial?”
“Well, sort of. Thought has no form.”
“No form? Thought creates worlds!” she boomed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just that I expected you to have a body. Without one, I don’t see how you can complete my training and help me restore our world – and Brighid.”
Though the blue orb that was Madame Wong didn’t move, I felt a smack at the back of my head. I turned and looked for the culprit, but I saw nothing but the nothing.
“Was that insubstantial?” she croaked.
“How?”
“Intention. By the Goddess, Madame Wong starting over with this one!”
“What do you mean? You’re not starting over. I’ve learned a lot. And my powers are–”
“Juvenile. You call yourself a Priestess? Bah!”
“Gee, thanks a lot. Look, I didn’t come here to be insulted.”
“Why you come here, then? Why you disturb Madame Wong’s peace?”
“I came for help. I need you. My whole planet needs you.”
“Miss Emily a Priestess now. She know all lessons. No need help, especially from someone insubstantial.”
Gone. In an instant she was completely gone. As soon as the orb disappeared, Hindergog got up and ran away.
“Hindergog!” I called. But there was no answer. The grey mist swirled around and covered the place where my furry friend once sat.
Alone. Again.
I’d spent months fighting back tears. Tears for my dad. Tears for losing Jake – again. Tears for Brighid and Fanny still trapped in the Umbra Perdita. And tears for all of the lost souls I saw every day at the bus stop, the grocery store, school. Tears for Megan and Sherry and Heather.
But for the most part, I’d kept my tears in check. I’d manned up and shown everyone my strong side. It was an act, of course. On the inside, I was a blubbering mess.
The wall I’d built around my tears crumbled. The dam was destroyed, the floodgates were open, and a year’s worth of salty liquid spilled down my cheeks. A flood of sorrow.
I flopped down on the spongy immaterial surface of the Netherworld and wailed so loud, it could wake the dead. I blubbered and cried until my throat was sore, my eyes almost swollen shut.
In that place of no time, I have no idea how long I lost myself in self-pity and self-loathing. Hours, days, weeks? It’s hard to say. But eventually it felt like an effort to continue my crying jag, so I stopped and drifted into a dreamless sleep. When I woke, I had no more idea what to do than when I’d begun my crying spree. But I knew I couldn’t lay in the grey nothingness and cry for the rest of time.
My mind was filled with images of playing tennis with my dad, sitting in the stands with Jake watching Fanny play softball, and of snuggling next to Jake on the couch watching movies together.
Jake. I’d never had my first kiss with Jake.
Jake. He was still alive. I don’t know how I knew it, but I knew his light had not yet been extinguished.
�
�Get up, Emily,” I told myself. “Get your ass up, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. They need you.”
I wiped the crusty crud of sleep from my eyes, stretched my arms over my head, and jogged in place a little. Wake up!
“Madame Wong, I am a Priestess of the Order of Brighid. I may not be a very good one. I may be filled with fear most of the time. But I still wear the torc. And I’ve got a world to save. You can skulk around here in the mist, enjoying your peace and quiet, or you can help me. Maybe we’ll even get Brighid back where she belongs.”
This time, I felt the mist shift before I saw her.
“As mouthy and insubordinate as last time.”
“Yep.”
“Miss Emily still wears the torc?”
“Yep.”
“Perhaps fun yet to be had by Madame Wong. Perhaps I show Miss Emily the secrets of the torc.”
“Secrets?”
“Mysteries not yet revealed. Would Miss Emily like to learn?”
Did I really need to answer that?
“Begin with a riddle.”
“Ugh! No more riddles, Madame Wong. I hate your riddles.”
The air around me filled with Madame Wong’s cackle.
“Why you think Madame Wong give Miss Emily so many? Always face that which you fear. First riddle. Why Ciardha not kill Miss Emily?”
An easy one. Could it be that easy?
“Because he wants to feed off of my Lucent Energy.”
“Ciardha plenty well fed from time on your planet. No need more Lucent Energy. Why no kill Miss Emily?”
Of course it couldn’t be easy. I hadn’t given it any thought. But Madame Wong was right. Ciardha could have – should have – killed me off. I wasn’t much of a threat – me and my band of misfits. But still, I was about the only thing standing between him and total planetary domination.
But if he killed me, the torc would be …
“Nothing more than hunk of metal.”
“Powerless,” I whispered. “He wants the torc.”
“Yes.”
“But why? He’s a god. What could he possibly want with the torc?”
“Forged by ancient faerie hands, imbued with the concentrated magic of thousands of years of Brighid’s Priestesses. Concentrated Lucent Energy. Powerful magic and mysteries wound around Miss Emily’s arm.”
My left hand instinctively touched the torc on my right arm. Even in the cool misty Netherworld, the torc was warm to the touch. As I focused my attention on it, the torc began to glow.
“Mysteries. You’ll teach me, won’t you? You’ll teach me what I don’t yet know about the torc?”
“Madame Wong will teach. Whether Miss Emily learn or not … well, that another mystery.”
I wanted to protest at her comment, but who was I kidding? We both knew she was right. If I’d learned anything since I stumbled into the Netherworld the first time, it was that I was the biggest obstacle to myself.
“I’ll try my best.”
“Then, let us begin.”
22. Scullery Dude
Jake
As I lay there busted up and broken down, the anguish of the pain in my body and the hurt in my heart melded together and fused into one giant ball of darkness. The throbbing pain in my body made it harder to think positive thoughts. It was far easier to take the train of darkness and ride it through the night.
Emily had left me to die – again.
You told her to leave you. Sacrifice one for the good of the many.
Ciardha’s words reverberated in my ears. “How does it feel, Mr. Stevens, to have the one you love forsake you yet again?”
She chose not to save me.
“How does it feel?” he’d asked.
It felt like shit and hurt like hell, just like the first time.
Stop it, stop it, stop it! Don’t give in to the dark thoughts he planted. He’s playing you.
My bruised hands squeezed my head as if I pushed hard enough, I’d be able to squeeze Ciardha’s manipulations out of my brain. The head squeezing didn’t rid me of Ciardha’s nasty sneer ringing in my ears, but it did give me a headache. I wanted to curl up in the fetal position on the floor, cry like a tired baby, and hope to die quickly rather than be slowly tortured by Ciardha.
But I didn’t. I did what Tristan had told me to do. To replace the grim thoughts floating around my mind, I had to think of good stuff instead. And when I tried to access my files of good times or my dreams of a better future, all those files included Emily. Hearing her laugh. It wasn’t a high-pitched girly laugh, but it wasn’t a dude laugh either. It was warm, rich and throaty. It was the most beautiful music I’d ever heard. Seeing her eyes flash bright green when she was angry, alive with color and fire. She’d probably have punched me in the arm if I’d said out loud that I was turned on when I saw her angry eyes, but the truth was her fiery temper was hot. And then there was her softer side, like when she was showing Megan how to access her inner power or how to punch or kick as hard as a guy. She’d been so patient with Megan and with all the rest of us.
She is a Priestess of Brighid.
And I knew in my heart that at that moment, she was probably curled up on her couch. She’d be wrapped in a quilt on the outside but wrapped in guilt on the inside.
You can’t give up. I tried my best to send that thought out to her, but I had no idea if she’d be able to receive it.
You have to fight on. If not for me, for all of the ones who have been taken. For Taisha’s sweeting.
As I lay there thinking that Emily couldn’t give up, I wallowed in self-pity and contemplated my own death. Then something in me screamed, “Get up and fight. She can’t do it alone.”
I’ll fight you, Ciardha. You understand? I’m never going to give in to you. I’m never going to give up on her.
I pushed myself up into a sitting position. When I moved, it felt like someone had busted me across my chest and back with a baseball bat.
It’s just broken ribs, man. They’ll heal in a few weeks.
I stood up and was relieved that my legs felt fine, no hobbling pain or torn muscles. I can run if I have to. If an opportunity for escape presents itself.
I didn’t have a clue what was going to happen to me. Would I stay in that room twenty-four hours a day? Would they give me food? I remembered the bucket in the corner. Don’t eat or drink too much.
How long would it take a person to go mad in that place? How long before a human soul simply gave up the fight?
I figured I’d find out.
Not being able to see the light of day was going to drive me mental. And not being able to talk to anyone sucked even more. But the worst part was that I didn’t have anything to read. There wasn’t even one of those things usually on the back of a hotel room door telling you about the emergency exits and stuff. With nothing to occupy my mind and nothing to distract it from the negative places it was going, how would I be able to hold out and not turn?
“Tell me, Emily. Tell me what to do?”
That’s when I started talking to her. There was no one there to look at me like I was nuts for talking to thin air. I knew she couldn’t hear me. And I knew she wouldn’t answer. But I talked to her anyway.
“How am I going to keep myself Lucent? What would you do?”
As I waited for the emptiness to whisper an answer to me, I heard someone unlock the door. My instinct was to prepare myself for a fight.
The door opened, and my eyes saw two silhouettes in the doorway. With the brighter light from the hallway shining behind them, I couldn’t make out their faces.
“Come on, you,” one of them said. Even though I put up no fight, the dude unnecessarily pulled me roughly by the arm and cuffed me in the back of the head just because he could.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Shut up, Puke,” the other said. He gave me a backhand across the face. He didn’t hit me that hard, but my face was still in agony from the beating I’d taken from Melita and her chums, so his cra
ck across my face enflamed the old wounds like gasoline on a smoldering ember.
“My name is Jake, not Puke,” I said.
“Not no more. Melita says your name is Puke, so that’s what it is now.” He hit me again, this time across the other side.
“Whad’ya do that for?” I asked.
“’Cause you talkin’ outta turn. You don’t say shit unless we ask you to, got that? Now you ain’t nothin’ but a cow.”
“Or a pig,” said the other guy.
“He’s so puny, maybe he’s just a little chicken is all he is.” Both of them began to laugh, cackle like chickens, and flap their arms to mimic chicken wings. One of them pushed me in the back with his fist, and I began to walk behind the guy in front.
In my head, I was screaming in rage. But on the outside, I put up no fight and played the obedient little chicken that they said I was. If I put up no fight and played their game, I figured I had a better chance to stay alive.
Just do what they say, Jake. Follow orders. Lay low. That’s your job now. Lay low.
They escorted me to the elevator. One guy pushed the ‘B’ button, and we descended to the basement of the place. I’d clenched my fists, and I could feel them getting clammy with sweat. My imagination began to picture some kind of basement torture chamber that they were leading me to. Torture or left alone in a dark room. Which would break me faster?
They pushed me through a set of white, swinging doors, and I found myself in a huge kitchen. The air was filled with the sound of clanging pots, shouts of, “Watch it!” and, “Over here, moron.”
The kitchen for Ciardha’s prison. It was easy enough to recognize others that, like me, had been taken. Others that had been pressed into involuntary servitude by Ciardha.
The room was filled with sallow faces, eyes ringed in dark circles. Their clothes were filthy and hung on their bodies. Their faces were streaked with dirt and some with blood too. They kept their heads down, and not one of them turned to look at the new prisoner. I caught a few eyes dart furtively to catch a glimpse of me, but mostly they went about their work and didn’t pay me any mind.
The Akasha Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set: The Complete Emily Adams Series Page 67