Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6)
Page 20
Shadow Man’s dark red duster brushed against the leaves, yet they didn’t stir as he grew closer. Not even the leaves could prove he was there.
He lifted one impossibly long arm and pointed a multi-jointed spider finger at me. His jaw pulled up to his face so he could speak. “Your friends cannot help you, Aegis. Come with me.”
I bit my lower lip and shook my head. “No. Do what you’ve got to do, but you do it here.” I pointed at the ground in front of me.
The thin slash of his mouth pulled up on the sides in a horrific smile. He reached into his coat and pulled out a flute. “Shall I play for you?” He blew into the mouthpiece, his fingers fluttering across the holes.
The sound that came out reminded me of blowing across the neck of a bottle—tuneless and flat.
“What are you doing?” I asked, eyebrows raised.
“I’m calling you with my pipe. Now you must come.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s the Pied Piper. You’re Shadow Man.”
He shook his head in confusion, then shimmered in the dull light. A moment later, a crooked old woman with bad teeth and an apron stood before me. She cackled.
The smell of baked goods drifted on the wind.
I shook my head again and spoke slowly, as if to a child. “That’s the witch from Hansel and Gretel.”
She shivered, and the witch disappeared, replaced by a dark, frightening creature in a Santa hat.
I sighed. “That’s Krampus, not you.”
He shifted again, returning to his original shape. Confusion and unhappiness washed across the clearing from him.
“But I need the children.” His distress prickled at my knees. “And they need me.” He glanced around and noticed our kids. “Why did you take them back?”
“They didn’t belong to you. You are Shadow Man.”
His dull orange eyes lit up. “Yes. That’s right.” He lifted his chin and pulled his shoulders back. “I am the Last Hidden.”
“No,” I said. “You weren’t meant to be the Last Hidden. I’m sorry. This is not your time.”
“I am the Last Hidden. And you are the Last Aegis.”
I peeked at Silas out of the corners of my eyes. He was staring right at Shadow Man, but nobody else was. I was losing the conversation. Silas had made progress, but needed to work faster.
“You were born too soon,” I said. I was trying to stall him. I could see where this was going.
Shadow Man took a few more steps toward me and stopped close enough to touch my head with his disturbing fingers.
Stay the course, Zoey. You can do this. The only way to win is not to fight.
Not fighting was the hardest thing I’d ever done. It was like asking me to keep my eye open while somebody threw a dart at it. I leaned away without thinking. Pine needles crunched beneath me, and Silas grabbed my shoulder to steady me.
The crowd must have seen the panic on my face, because a collective murmur rose around us. I had to get it together for them as much as for myself. I forced my gaze to meet Shadow Man’s bottomless orange eyes. Fear shot through me like I’d been doused with ice water. I rose to face him, planting my feet firmly in place.
I took a deep breath and pushed down the terror inside. Despite Silas standing next to me, able to see Shadow Man, he was not enough. I felt the isolation Shadow Man wanted me to feel with every second ticking by that Silas didn’t succeed in making this creature viewable by everyone.
But maybe that was what I was supposed to do. I couldn’t lure him in without some sort of bait. A little isolation wouldn’t hurt me. It was temporary.
I hoped.
Those terrible fingers came closer, finally coming to rest on the side of my face. He placed the other hand on the opposite cheek, cradling my head.
I closed my eyes. This would be easier if I didn’t have to look at the hideous face of a creature humans had crafted as an experiment. If they’d known what would happen, would they have stopped?
The singing of crickets filled my ears. Somewhere far away, Riley yelled at Sara to let go of him.
Shadow Man’s fingers vibrated against my skin, and tendrils like smoke dug into my skull. He was searching inside of me, poking around, looking for pockets of isolation in my psyche so he could feed.
The need to put up my shields against his invasion consumed all my thoughts. Shielding my mind would be the easiest thing in the world. Leaving myself open went against every instinct, as if I were trying to force myself to inhale while submerged in water. But I didn’t fight him. I let him enter my mind, his prodding tentative at first, then bolder when he found I didn’t resist. The deeper he went, the easier it became for me to relax and let him in. I waited quietly, stifling my disgust at the invasion until he was fully within my mind.
Building walls to keep out the stray emotions of others was the first skill I’d learned as an empath. I was very good at it by now, and quick. The wall went up without effort, surrounding my mind with an impenetrable barrier. Shadow Man was locked inside with me.
In my mind, we faced each other in my mother’s garden—a nice, neutral space.
“What have you done?” Shadow Man pressed a hand against the walls I’d built. The barrier didn’t budge. “You can’t do this.”
“Of course I can.” I folded my metaphysical hands against my metaphysical body and watched him.
He bent forward, his hand on his stomach as if he were in pain. His voice was raspy. “I’m so hungry. Why aren’t you feeding me? Where is the meat? Why does this hurt?”
“I suspect what you’re feeling is twenty or thirty people staring at you right now.”
He choked. “Impossible.”
I shrugged. “Everything’s possible around here. You’re experiencing the opposite of isolation, which I suppose is starving you pretty fast.”
His jaw swiveled on its unsecure hinges and his face became a hideous scowl. “I am the Last Hidden.” He groaned. “I need the children.”
There was that glitch again. He hadn’t evolved. He kept reverting to other people’s stories. He had his own story—open the portal and rule the new world—but he didn’t have the focus to stick with it. Especially now that he was losing so much energy.
I felt no animosity toward him, despite the fact that he’d killed my mother. I was an Aegis—the Last Aegis—and it was my job to care for the Hidden. None of the Hidden needed me as much as this one did now. I wanted to hate him. I really did. But he was, essentially, a child. A lost child who should never have been born.
I reached my hand out to him. “Shadow Man is a terrible, lonely name. What should I call you instead?”
He hesitated, then took my hand, though his expression showed he was puzzled by the action. “I like the name Peter.”
“All right.” I smiled. “Are you tired, Peter?”
He nodded. “Nothing works the way it’s supposed to in the world.”
“That’s because the world isn’t ready for you, yet. Many, many things were supposed to be born before you.”
His face crumpled. “My minions didn’t come back.”
I held out my other hand to him and took a step forward. “I wouldn’t let them.”
He frowned, but took my hand anyway. “You can’t stop them.”
“I can do anything, Peter. I’m the Last Aegis. You made it so.”
Standing hand in hand with me, he looked so childlike, despite his frightening face and glowing eyes. He ducked his head. “I suppose I did.”
“Are you ready?” My voice was soft.
“Will it hurt?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so, no.” I didn’t know that for sure, but it seemed reasonable. “Just look into my eyes and relax.”
He obeyed, focusing his disconcerting orange gaze on mine. “W
ill I be back?” he whispered.
I rubbed the backs of his hands with my thumbs. “Someday. And you’ll be much happier when it happens naturally. Now, deep breath, exhale and let go.”
Shadow Man’s—Peter’s—chest rose and fell, and his edges blurred. The smudging spread inward, and his outer edges turned bright, dissolving and rising in a cloud of glittering mist. When the last of Shadow Man was gone, nothing remained but a dense shimmering fog.
I lowered my walls to set it free, and it disappeared into the distance. Before I returned to the real world, I replaced my barrier, then opened my eyes.
Shadow Man was gone, and everyone I loved surrounded me. Riley dropped to the ground and put his arms around me without a word. He held me gently, as if afraid I might disappear in a puff of smoke if he squeezed too tightly. Sara stood behind him, and I knew by the look on her face she’d had a tough time keeping him from trying to save me.
Maurice sat next to me and put his hand on my knee, his huge yellow eyes still filled with sorrow over Mom’s loss. “Is he gone?”
I nodded. “There is no Shadow Man anymore, and the ether of story is full again.”
A murmur went through the crowd as the news spread. Everyone was safe. The bad man was defeated. Everyone got a happy ending.
Here and there in the trees, our lost fairies sat in solemn silence.
Across the clearing, my gaze met with Darius’s, and my heart broke all over again. He stood slumped against a tree, devastation pooling around him. I could fix a lot of things. Hell, I’d just saved the world. But I couldn’t fix this one thing for him.
I couldn’t fix it for me.
Darius turned and walked toward the cottage, while the rest of the forest rejoiced.
The crowd took a little while to disperse. They all thanked me in turn for helping them avoid a forced emigration to a new world run by an unstable tyrant. I smiled and made small talk, though my heart wasn’t in it. I was exhausted, in mourning for my mother and wanted to go home where I could be with my family.
At last, all that remained was our small team, minus Darius—and Mom. Riley helped me to my feet, and I leaned into him as we walked.
Kam moved up the path beside me and touched my shoulder. “Hey. I think I’ll check on Darius if you’re going to be okay without me for a bit.”
I gave her a weak smile. “That’s a really good idea. Make sure he’s okay. Stay with him if it’ll help.”
She jogged off toward the cottage. Overhead, the phoenix and the little tropical bird split up, and the little one followed Kam. The phoenix followed us, fluttering from tree to tree. I worried that it meant I wasn’t done yet. I hoped I was wrong.
We reached the house, Riley and I in the lead, with Rene and the kids and Molly’s family behind us, and Sara and Maurice bringing up the rear. Phil had left with Tashi, and Gris had gone ahead to turn the lights on and make sure the house was welcoming. I didn’t see Silas and had a feeling he’d hit his limit of good intentions and had already grabbed his suitcase and gone.
All along the way, Aggie flew overhead in the form of a phoenix. That is, until we reached my yard. She fluttered around my head, then flew into the invisible bubble around the backyard. When I didn’t follow, she returned and did it again.
I sighed. “I knew I wasn’t done yet.”
I stepped into the bubble in my backyard, and everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-One
Light flickered in the darkness and grew until I could see the familiar spot where the Simurgh had talked to me so many times before. Great wings whooshed like a tornado and threatened to topple me over. The Simurgh, the First Hidden, folded her rainbow wings and regarded me with one enormous golden eye.
“Welcome, Aegis,” she said. Her voice was sunshine and freshly baked bread, and filled with more wisdom than any one human could hold. “You did well.”
I didn’t know what to say at first. Had I done well? My mother died. I couldn’t stop that from happening. “I did well enough,” I said. “I could have done better.”
“There was no way to save her. You must let go of that idea.”
“There’s always a way. I just didn’t find it.” The words tasted bitter, and I knew much of what I was feeling was exhaustion. And my head hurt.
“Blame is for the guilty, little chick. And we have much to do. Let go of it.”
I so didn’t want to hear the phrase we have much to do. I groaned. “What’s left?”
“Aegis, regardless of the positive outcome, Peter’s actions ended the Covenant.”
I felt the blood leave my face. “No. You can’t take my friends away.”
The Simurgh cocked her head to the side. “What? No. The new world isn’t upon us. The Covenant is broken is all. We must forge a new one.”
I frowned. “A new Covenant? We can’t just copy the old one or renew it?”
“You are the Last Aegis, but the world is not a new one. Therefore, you are the First Aegis. We begin again.”
“What does that mean, exactly? I can change things?”
“Together, we can change many things. We can shape the world as we see fit.”
I smiled. “I have some ideas where to begin.”
My biggest concern was the birth of new Hidden. When the world was new, stories grew organically, through word-of-mouth, over the course of many generations. The human population had been nowhere near the scale of what it would become, and new Hidden evolved over time. In the modern world, humans existed on every continent and, through the miracles of technology, they could all talk to each other instantly.
This was what had caused the premature self-awareness of Shadow Man, and we couldn’t allow that to happen again.
“The number of times a story is told is what triggers the birth of a Hidden,” the Simurgh told me. “But I think that no longer works. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” I curled myself into the comfy chair the Simurgh had manifested in the empty space between our minds. “The criteria should be time-oriented now. The story has to be told for so many years, rather than told so many times. New Hidden need time to evolve.”
And so began a long session of agreements and negotiations. We did what we could to prevent another Hidden from forcing its way out of the ether, and we addressed a number of other problems I’d wrestled with over the last two years.
Shadow Man had wanted to change the world. He’d succeeded, though not in the way he’d intended. The world was about to change to what I wanted it to be—what I knew it needed to be.
When we finished, I felt refreshed. The fatigue dragging at me when I’d arrived had vanished. I found myself in Riley’s arms, cradled in his lap in the grass.
“Welcome back.” He kissed my cheek. “You kind of collapsed when we came through the bubble.”
I glanced around. “Where is everybody?”
“They went inside.” He pointed at the phoenix perched on top of the nearest tent. “She didn’t seem alarmed, so we figured you were talking to the First Hidden.”
“I was.” I climbed out of his lap and squinted at the sun overhead. “I was there for hours, I thought.”
He looked at his watch. “Long enough that Kam came through on her way back and wanted to draw a moustache on you. You’re welcome, by the way. I didn’t let her. You’ve been out of it for about thirty minutes.”
“Nifty trick.” I took a step toward the phoenix. “She’s been here the whole time?”
Riley pulled himself to his feet. “The whole time.”
I moved slowly so I didn’t startle the beautiful bird. It regarded me with one bright eye, and the tuft on its head bobbed. “Aggie?” I whispered to it, hoping but not expecting an answer.
She ruffled her wings in response, then dipped her body forward.
“Mom was w
ith you earlier, wasn’t she?” My throat clogged with tears. I missed Aggie so much sometimes. She’d been like a grandmother to me. And now Mom was gone, too. I felt queasy. Who would take care of me now? I was on my own.
Riley stepped up beside me and took my hand in his. The phoenix straightened and made an odd cooing sound. I would have sworn she winked before she stretched her wings and took flight. The small tropical bird I believed might hold my mother’s soul flew from the woods to join the phoenix.
I watched the splotches of red and green in the sky until they became tiny dots, then disappeared.
Riley gave me a minute to collect myself before turning me toward the house. “How about we have some dinner, maybe watch a movie?”
I gave him a tired smile. “Take the blankets off the windows?”
He stopped and took a deep breath. “Do you smell that?”
I sniffed. “What?”
“That’s the smell of no one wanting to kill you.” He inhaled again.
I leaned my head back to suck in a lungful of air. “It smells kind of like a happy ending.”
“You think so?” He put his arm around me and kissed my head, still handling me like I might pop like a soap bubble if he squeezed too tightly.
I nodded. “A bittersweet one, but yes. A happy ending. Time for a family meeting.” I tugged his hand and led him into the house.
I found everyone sitting around the kitchen table, talking, drinking coffee and munching on fresh cookies straight from the oven.
“But Africa’s so far away,” Kam said, waving a cookie at Sara. “You’ll be back, right?”
“Of course we will.” Sara took a delicate sip, made a face, then blew on the rim of her cup. “Eventually, we’ll have to figure out where to live. We can’t sleep in Zoey’s guestroom forever, and when we stay at my house, I’m always nervous about turning on the lights in case the neighbors think it’s a burglar.” She saw me come in and smiled. “Besides, Zoey’s going to sell my house for me anyway. Right, Zo?”
I shrugged and took a warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie from the plate. “I don’t know. I was thinking you might want to call off the Realtor and keep the house.”