by Alyson Noel
He was the one who was afraid to go before the Council.
After everything we’d just accomplished, which was pretty dang major if I do say so myself, he was feeling pretty insecure about how it might go over—doubting the Council would view it in his favor.
After all, his job was to guide me, and if you think about it in its most basic terms, it was pretty clear he’d totally failed on that one.
He’d tried to guide me toward not going after the Hell Beast. But did I listen? Of course not! I just willfully went off on my own, leaving him with no choice but to chase me down, and even so, once he caught up with me, he still couldn’t stop me—he’d had no choice but to follow my lead.
The thought alone made me feel bad.
Maybe even a tiny bit ashamed of myself.
Clearly, I was just as difficult to guide in my death as I had been in life.
I was still stubborn, still impulsive, still impatient—I was all the awful things he’d accused me of being and more.
It was as though nothing had changed—or at least nothing having to do with my personality anyway.
And yet, as he himself said earlier, I’d had every right to exercise my free will.
And no one, not even my guide, could rob me of that.
“Let’s go,” I repeated, glancing over my shoulder to see Buttercup running, trying to catch up with me. “We can fly, we can walk, we can ignore the bridge and take the long, scenic route if you want. I’ll leave that up to you. In the end, it all leads back to the same place. It all leads back home.”
25
By the time we got back to the Here & Now, Bodhi seemed pretty eager to be rid of me.
I didn’t even get so much as a good-bye, see ya later, adios, nothing, before he was well on his way.
“Um, hel-lo!” I called, narrowing my eyes at his retreating back and shaking my head. “Aren’t you forgetting a little something called the Council?” Sure, he was trying to avoid what I knew to be inevitable.
He stopped, spun on his heel, and looked right at me. “We don’t approach the Council, Riley, the Council approaches us.”
Oh.
I gazed down at the ground, feeling painfully aware that for all my bravado on the earth plane, I was still pretty incompetent Here.
“So, how will I know when it’s time?” I asked, feeling kind of stupid for asking, but how else was I supposed to learn?
But Bodhi just looked at me. “They’ll summon me, and then I’ll summon you.” He gazed all around, as though he had somewhere urgent to be. “So—are we through here?” he asked, never more eager to get away from me.
I nodded, watching him retreat again, and having to physically restrain Buttercup from going after him.
Traitor! I’d started to say as I glared down at my dog, the word melting fast on my tongue the second he gazed up at me with those big brown eyes.
Still, it’s not like I could blame him for preferring Bodhi over me. From what I’d seen, Bodhi was like the rock star of this place. In fact, he probably had a whole slew of groupies and friends, an entire entourage of fans just waiting to catch up with him, while I just had me.
Okay, maybe that’s not exactly true.
Maybe I had my parents and my grandparents too.
But still, as nice as it was to know they were out there, somewhere, it still couldn’t compare to the kind of friendships I longed for.
The kind I’d had back on the earth plane.
The kind that came with laughs and good times and a shared interest in a lot, if not all, the same things.
And to be honest, not only was I totally confused by the way things worked Here, but I was so bad at controlling what could only be described as my overly judgmental, superficial thoughts and opinions that apparently everyone could hear, that I didn’t even know how to go about making any friends.
So I wandered. Telling myself it would help me get the lay of the land, though the truth is, deep down inside, I knew it was a lie.
I knew exactly where I was headed, which meant it came as no surprise when I ended up just outside the Viewing Room.
Even though I knew it was discouraged, if not downright frowned upon—even though I knew it would disappoint my parents, the Council, and probably Bodhi as well, even though my dog stopped just shy of it, refusing to be an accomplice and go any farther, gazing up at me with an Oh, no she didn’t kind of gaze—I ducked in anyway.
Grabbing a number from the dispenser and taking my place in what turned out to be a pretty long line, lying to myself yet again when I vowed I’d just take a quick peek, check in on my sister and maybe a few old friends, and then be on my way.
I waited my turn, checking out all the blue hairs, many of whom I recognized from my last illicit visit, and I couldn’t help but wonder why it was okay for them to look in on the earth plane, but not me.
Was it because they all claimed to be merely checking in on their grandkids, as opposed to salaciously watching the goings-on as though it were some kind of live-action soap opera like I did?
Or was there some kind of Here & Now double standard that allowed only the geriatrics to get all nostalgic, while the young ones were urged to forget?
The line grew as I inched my way closer to the front. Determined to keep to myself, to mind my own business, when I heard some old guy behind me say, “She still worries about me. After all this time, she just won’t stop grieving. No matter how many times I visit her in her dreams, no matter how many times I take her hand and say, ‘Helen, listen to me, I promise you, I am A-OK. Now please—get back to living!’ as soon as she wakes up, she convinces herself it wasn’t really me, and the grief starts again. And sometimes…” He paused, as I took a moment to surreptitiously check out the shiny black dress shoes and matching black socks he wore with his plaid Bermuda shorts. “I tell ya, Mort, sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I’m not making it worse.”
I turned. I couldn’t help it. I turned and blatantly stared right at him.
I’d never heard of such a thing.
Didn’t know it was even possible to visit another person’s dreams.
And before I could ask to hear more, he looked at me and said, “Can I help you?”
Though the words may seem kind on the surface, believe me, that was hardly their intent, not in the least. The tone in his voice informed me loud and clear that he wasn’t the least bit charmed by the sight of me, and was clearly annoyed by my eavesdropping.
“Um, sorry,” I said, my eyes darting between him and his friend. “But I couldn’t help but overhear, did you just say something about entering someone’s dream?”
He narrowed his crinkly lids and looked me over carefully, as his friend, the one in the bright purple-and-orange Hawaiian shirt, the one he’d called Mort, decided to answer for him. “A dream visitation, that’s right.” He studied me carefully.
My mind swirled, spinning with all the major possibilities of such a thing, before saying, “And, um, could you maybe tell me how someone might go about doing something like that?” I pressed my lips together and prayed that didn’t sound nearly as desperate to their ears as it had to mine.
They peered, scrutinized, practically dissected me in a way that made it clear they were veering way closer toward not helping me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe my glow was at fault.
My pale green, barely there glow that, according to Bodhi anyway, clearly marked me as a member of the level 1.5 team—a virtual newbie as far as they were concerned.
Even though I hadn’t had a chance to check it, to see if it’d been in any way affected by everything I’d accomplished back in St. John, one look at the way they both glowed this soft, serene shade of yellow, well, I figured they probably thought that sort of information was way too advanced for someone as lowly as me.
I’d started to turn away, telling myself to just let it go since they were obviously reluctant to help, when Mort looked right at me, rubbed his chin with a set of surprisingly shiny, manicur
ed nails, and said, “Well, first you gotta go to the place where all the dreams take place.”
I swallowed and squinted, but otherwise did my best to remain still. Not wanting them to know that up until that moment, I’d had no idea there even was such a place.
Still, it was pretty clear by the look he exchanged with his friend that they both saw right through me.
Which is why I was so surprised when he ignored his friend’s elbow nudging hard in his side as he said, “It’s easy enough to find, all you have to do is—”
I leaned forward, eager to hear every last detail, only to have his words interrupted by someone shouting, “Next!”
I turned, seeing my number flash on the screen.
“Looks like it’s your turn.” Mort shrugged, along with his friend.
I was torn. Torn between wanting to check in on the earth plane, check in on my sister and friends, and my sudden but desperate need to learn more about the place where all the dreams happen.
I’d just started to broach it again when Mort’s friend, the one who started all this, said, “Listen, you gonna take your turn or not?”
I glanced between the two of them, and it was clear by the way they both looked at me that neither one of them had any plans to tell me anything more than they already had.
But while the moment may have passed, the seed had been planted.
And as far as I was concerned, it was good enough for a start.
I thrust my ticket into Mort’s hand and made a quick exit, hoping to find some kind of library or research center, some lofty place that might offer some answers, only to find Buttercup waiting right where I’d left him, with Bodhi, chomping hard on his straw, standing right alongside him.
“It’s not what you think!” I screeched, regretting the words the instant they were out. I mean, seriously. It’s not like I didn’t know better. I was pretty well-versed in how that sort of denial never works.
“We’ve been summoned,” Bodhi said, choosing to ignore my ridiculously transparent statement. “Which means you might want to take a quick moment to spruce yourself up. Oh, and you might also want to take a moment to hope and pray that no one finds out that the very first thing you did upon your return was come here.”
I screwed up my face, annoyed by his words, but still, I did what he said. Ridding myself of what had become a pretty filthy swimsuit and cover-up, before manifesting a cool pair of jeans, some ballet flats, and a super cute T-shirt in its place.
“Better?” I lifted my brow and tilted my chin.
But Bodhi just grunted and rushed ahead, calling over his shoulder to say, “Whatever you do, just follow my lead, okay? Please. Just do yourself a favor and—”
He paused long enough for me to catch up.
“Do yourself a favor and let me handle everything.”
He rounded a corner, and then another, then he led us up a whole lot of stairs to the same smoky-glass building where my life review had taken place.
And to be honest, if I’d had a stomach, that’s pretty much the exact moment it would’ve begun to spin and curl and somersault its way all the way down to my knees.
They were inside.
Aurora, Claude, Samson, Celia, and Royce—the entire Council assembled together, waiting to hear my side of things.
There was no way to avoid it.
I had no choice but to face it.
I’d acted willfully, rashly, stubbornly insisting on flaunting my free will despite being warned not to.
No matter how well it may have turned out in the end, the fact was, it wasn’t an assignment. If anything, it was the opposite. My guide had strictly forbidden it.
I squared my shoulders, checked my posture, and promised myself that whatever happened next, whatever happened on the other side of that door, I’d do everything I could to follow Bodhi’s instructions and not make things any worse than they already were.
He looked at me and I nodded sagely in return, acting as though I was ready, even though I was pretty darn sure that I wasn’t.
My hands trembling as he reached for the door, started to fling it wide open, only to have me slam my palm hard against it, slam it so I could get a better view of myself.
My eyes glued on my reflection, which was nothing at all like the last time I’d seen it.
Sure the usual sights were all there: blond hair, blue eyes, stubby nose, flat chest—pretty much exactly the same as the last time I’d checked, but the glow that surrounded it was entirely different.
Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating.
Maybe it wasn’t entirely different.
I mean, after all, it was still green.
But the shade of green was different. The tone of it was changed.
Like a seriously noticeable, marked alteration.
The kind that can’t be disputed.
“Congratulations.” Bodhi nodded, flashing a quick smile my way. Though his face fell just as quickly, as he shook his head and said, “But before you get too carried away with yourself, you should know that there are consequences to our actions, as you’re about to find out.”
I nodded, aware of the words, noting the warning they contained, but still too entranced by my own reflection to really pay them much notice. Seeing the way the deeper, richer shade of green glowed and swirled all around me, and knowing it was the direct result of the choices I’d made.
“Remember what I told you,” he said, his gaze signaling that he did not trust my ability to not say a word, to not blow it, to let him handle things—not for a moment.
I frowned, started to push past him, watching my glow wave and retreat as he stood to the side and ushered me in.
“In case you haven’t noticed,” I said, pausing to look at him, “I’ve totally got my glow on. So really, how bad can it be?”
I checked my reflection again, convinced that no matter what happened, no matter what the Council might say, my glow would be with me. It was something I’d earned. It wasn’t going anywhere.
The thought instantly canceled by Bodhi’s voice at my ear, saying, “Wrong again, Riley. Whatever the Council gives, they can also take away. And now, thanks to you, by the time we get out of here, we may never glow again.”
author’s note
While the characters and the situations they find themselves in are fictional, the story itself was loosely inspired by the 1733 slave revolt in the Danish West Indies (now known as St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands). In Africa, a number of noblemen and -women, as well as wealthy merchants, had been sold into slavery after a revolt against them, then brought to the Caribbean to work as slaves. Eventually, they rebelled against the plantation owners and managers with the purpose of retaining other African slaves from different tribes to do their labor.
Purported to be among the first of those killed was a plantation owner and his young stepdaughter.
Also, the sadistic game of “beach bowling” is alleged to be true.
acknowledgments
Once again, great thanks are owed to Jean Feiwel, Matthew Shear, Rose Hilliard, Anne Marie Tallberg, Jennifer Doerr, Katy Hershberger, Brittney Kleinfelter, and Angela Goddard—just a few of the awesome, hardworking people who help bring my books to life; to Bill Contardi, for the wisdom and laughs; to Jeanette Harvey, who is, without a doubt, the best assistant I could ever imagine; to Sandy, for sharing the magic that is Oobleck; and of course, to my amazingly awesome readers—your enthusiasm and support mean the world to me!
Questions for the Author
In what ways are you similar (or different) to Riley Bloom?
Actually, Riley and I share a lot in common. I know what it’s like to be the baby of the family, and though I hate to admit it, I’ve also been known to hog the microphone while playing Rock Band on the Wii!
How do you come up with your characters?
Honestly, I’m not really sure! The story idea usually comes first, and then as I’m busy working on all the ins and outs of the new world I’m creating, the cast just sort
of appears.
What was your inspiration for the Here & Now, the magical realm where Riley lives?
Back when I first started working on the Immortals series, I did quite a bit of research on metaphysics, quantum physics, ghosts, spirits, and the afterlife, etc, all of which sort of fed into the concept of the Here & Now. I guess, in a way, it’s how I hope the afterlife will be.
Do you believe in ghosts?
In a word—yes. I’ve definitely experienced enough unexplainable phenomena to ever rule it out.
Did you grow up with an older sister the way Riley did? How many brothers and sisters do you have?
I have two older sisters, both of whom I completely idolized. There’s a bit of an age gap between us, one is ten years older, and the other five years older, and trust me when I say that I did my best to emulate them. I listened to their music, watched their TV shows, and read their books—all of which was way more appealing than my own, more age-appropriate stuff. And like Riley, I used to try on their clothes and makeup when they were out with their friends, though I suspect that revelation will come as no surprise to them!
Where do you write your books?
I have a home office where I put in very, very long hours seven days a week—but I have the best job in the world, so I’m not complaining!
Have you always wanted to be a writer?
Well, first, I wanted to be a mermaid, and then a princess, but ever since sixth grade when I finished reading my first Judy Blume book, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, I decided I’d rather write instead. I’d always been an avid reader, but Judy Blume’s books were some of the first that I could directly relate to, and I knew then that someday I wanted to try to write like that too.
What would you do if you ever stopped writing?
Oh, I shudder to even think about it. I truly can’t imagine a life without writing. Though I suppose I’d probably start traveling more. I’ve traveled a good bit already, both when I was working as a flight attendant and just on my own, but there are still so many places left to explore. Oh, and I’d probably enroll in some art classes too—painting, jewelry making, crafty stuff like that.