He laughed, then brushed my cheek with his wafting hand. "Your face is pink!" he said. "Delightful! Don't tell a strange spirit you'll do anything they ask. Especially in a séance. It binds you to obey their every desire. You have to grant me a wish."
"A wish?" Was he serious? I stared at him.
"You are lucky it was me, Aether. My wish will not be burdensome," he said. He patted me on the shoulder, his hand passing through.
"You're really going to ask me for a wish." I could not take this in. "What am I, your personal genie?"
"Something like that." He nodded and grinned. "I know just what I'll ask for."
"What?" I waited.
"Tell you when we get there. I have to check with the spirit council first," he said.
I pondered this, shivering with worry about what he might ask me to do. The crackles of spectricity responded, flickering through my hands.
"Will you answer something for me?" I said, staring at my lit-up hands.
"Of course." He put his scroll back into his side. "I will pay for my wish by teaching you, Aether."
I had no idea what he meant by that. I asked, "Why do I have this spectricity?"
"Your family history would explain that better than I could," said Emmett. "You're manipulating spectral energy. Spirits, you see, are mostly ectoplasm enlivened by spectricity. If a mortal can manipulate spectricity—"
"I can control the spirits," I said.
"No," said Emmett. His face wore a pained expression. "Not control. Connect. Build a bridge. Don't think of it like control."
"Is what I'm doing like what a spiritualist does? Like my father?" I asked.
"Like Able Despair? Oh, you've loads more ability than Able." Emmett flashed his brightest smile. "You're meant for so much more than hanging around a medium room, telling fortunes."
"But Dad always seemed to think Sam would be the talented, powerful one," I said. I thought of Sam that last night, so certain Dad's beliefs were the truth. My brother was supposed to carry on the Despair spiritualist legacy, not me. "Growing up, I never heard the end of it: The Great Samhain Despair, heir to the family legacy."
"Yes," said Emmett. He had dislodged his scroll again and was reading along the parchment. "Samhain Despair. He's known to us. An extremely accurate and powerful seer—it's likely he's completely accurate. Wow! Very few infallible seers are known to exist. Only seventeen years old. This guy is your brother?" Emmett goggled at the scroll, then at me. "What a pair!"
"Sam's always complained of visions—and hearing voices. But he never sees ghosts, like I do," I said.
"Some mortals are spirit blind. But a visit to the spirit realm fixes that. And infallible seer—may I just say again, that is incredible power." Emmett nodded his respect. Then he craned his head around, assessing our position. "We'd better get moving. We have a long time to go."
"Oh no, really? I was hoping we wouldn't have to go down many more of these stairs," I said.
"Actually, this is where we start going up," said Emmett. He turned around and wafted upward, back the way we had come.
After a long climb—I could swear several more hours had passed, and my aching calf muscles agreed, but Emmett claimed only minutes had passed in dead time—he finally stopped and held up one hand. "This is it. I'm sure."
"You're sure?" I sat down, rubbing my legs and panting. "You're surely sure?"
"Be ready," said Emmett, but his wide eyes and stiff face told me nothing about what to be ready for. He took my hand to float me across the abyss between the spiral staircase and the castle wall. There we lighted on a landing, and Emmett drew a circle with his finger on the stones of the wall. The circle lingered, flickering bright. Emmett knocked three times in its center. I braced myself.
The wall swung inward to admit us into the next passage, revealing a cavernous room full of thrones, and each throne contained a personage, of sorts, and each throne tended to float a good foot or two above the ground.
Chapter Fifteen
The Protégée
Emmett and I approached the thrones. I stood, one foot behind the other, as the enthroned personages moved in closer, surrounding us, encircling us. Many of them spun around and around—very unsettling. Emmett floated up to their level and gave a deep bow.
"So, this is the one you've brought among us." The lordly man with sharp features rubbed his long, thin beard, pointed like an icicle, hanging almost to his waist.
"Esoterica." Emmett nodded to the man.
A stately woman with a high brow, clothed in a toga, swooped in close. She glowered at me from beneath lowered eyebrows, and I disliked her immediately.
"Hello, Columbia," said Emmett, drifting between us. "How've you been?"
Emmett's voice boomed upward, echoing through the cavern, as he addressed the council. "Esoterica, Columbia, everyone else—this is Heather Desperate Despair."
At least he remembered my name! Although, I don't think I ever told him the whole thing. The enthroned spirits spun around me, faster now, staring and murmuring to one another.
"And can she really—" began a small, chubby spirit on a tiny throne.
"Quiet, Pan," said Esoterica. He lifted his hands to call order. "This mortal girl of the family 'Despair' has been identified as having significant spiritualist abilities. She is brought here before us by Emmett for evaluation. This case is somewhat unusual because she has reached the age of fifteen years without detection."
From the spirits higher up, I heard whispering, and one called down, "Is this the same Despair family as that last one? The boy?"
"I don't know. Emmett?" said Esoterica.
"What boy?" My voice came out dry, a croak. "Is it Sam? What have you done with him?"
They all ignored me. Emmett said to Esoterica, "The boy's mentioned as Samhain Despair in my Nonbook. He's her older brother, and Able Despair is the father." Then Emmett grinned and winked at me. "That's right, isn't it?"
I nodded, backing away from the circle of spirits. I hated to be the center of attention—my stomach had filled with butterflies and sweat dripped down my back. Did they all have to stare at me? This was worse than giving an oral report at school.
"Please. Did you see my brother?" I begged them. They just went on talking like I wasn't there.
"Quite astonishing! The Despairs, unearthed! We thought they'd all died out. Twice!" said Esoterica.
"Some of the most powerful spiritualists ever known came from the Despair family," said Columbia. Then, her face sour, she said, "Of course, they had help."
Esoterica frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "The Despair artifacts again? Columbia, I had hoped you'd put this tiresome obsession behind you," he said.
Columbia ignored him. She drifted closer to me, staring in this brazen, unblinking way that made my face heat up and my knees shake. I inched back.
"Humph. Not much to her, is there? What is to be done? Will we test the girl here?" she asked. She extended one finger a hair's breadth from my forehead. I held my breath. But she hesitated, then whirled and flew back to her place in the circle without touching me.
Emmett spun two feet higher into the circle and announced, "I've already done it!"
Gasps echoed around the spiral of spirits. Columbia said, "Tested her? So soon? But couldn't that be dangerous?"
"What could be dangerous?" I asked.
"No, I don't agree. Unexpected, yes. Uncanny, perhaps. But not dangerous. I think she's perfect," said Emmett. He gazed down at me, adoration shining from his black eyes. I flushed.
"Perfect for the task?" asked Esoterica, rearranging the long robes that wreathed around him.
"Perfect for the task . . . and for me," said Emmett. The lightest tinge of pink on his face, like before, in the chamber. Then gone. "I wish to take this mortal as my protégée, if it please the spirit council."
Columbia's face wore a bitter scowl, but Esoterica ran his hand over and over his beard, thinking. Pan made a whistling sound, whizzing around and aroun
d.
"Emmett," said Columbia, "We spoke about this. Might I remind you once again that you must retain no sense of attachment? Remember the last time." The look she directed at Emmett fairly creaked with ice. I shivered.
"Yes, yes, of course. I only meant I could work with her perfectly. She's very powerful—and talented," said Emmett. He nodded at me with a sly smile, then bowed to Columbia, all respect.
"I'm sure he meant nothing by it, Columbia," said Esoterica, taking out a small pair of scissors and paring his fingernails.
"I think he did!" said Pan, but no one listened to Pan.
Esoterica raised his white, shaggy eyebrows and peered down at me. "What abilities have you ascertained in your testing?" he asked. His beady stare made me feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. I tried to scoot back again and bumped into the wall. Then I felt Emmett's arm around my shoulders, cool but reassuring. He'd materialized next to me.
"Don't worry. We'll soon be done," he whispered. I rubbed my ear. His whisper tickled.
"But what will we be done with? What do you mean, your protégée?" I asked. He only gave me a bright smile and turned back to the council. His arm on my shoulders made my neck tingle—probably from the spectricity.
"She's powerful, but undisciplined, in spectricity manipulation. She has undeveloped abilities in telekinesis, telepathy, and as you can see by the eyes, healing. She's also summoning and communing with spirits in the mortal realm—full manifestations," said Emmett.
The council, including Esoterica, went silent. Their stares all centered on me. I wanted to shrink and crawl into a crack in the wall. Into this silence snarled Columbia's haughty voice. "That's all you know? We need more thorough testing. The boy had seer abilities! She may also."
"Tell me what you know about my brother! I'm here to find him. I'm not your lab rat!" I shouted. I glared up at them, saving a special glare for Columbia.
"No. You're not," said Emmett. He joined me in glaring up at them. "Esoterica, please illuminate Miss Despair about the fate of her brother."
Esoterica shook his gray head until his beard swayed back and forth. "We examined him, as we examine you now. We ascertained he was an exceptional seer. But he grew angry at the delay in seeking Able Despair, his father. He set off for the far dimensions, and we were unable to detain him."
The spirits all held their heads, moaning. "Such pain!" said a creaky spirit near the top.
"The far dimensions? Where's that?" I demanded.
"It is very far," said Emmett. "And Columbia, as to more testing, you see where it got the council with Samhain Despair. Please desist, before we lose another great spiritualist. Ecto-time will tell what Miss Despair is capable of achieving. I have requested her as my protégée, and that will be quite enough. Remember, we need the assistance of mortal spiritualists. Our duty is to build connections with the mortal world—not to study the mortals! We are all stronger together."
Several spirits applauded and said, "Here, here!"
"What about the girl?" groaned a creaky old spirit from high up in the circle. "What does she say to this? We must have her consent."
"Oh, I—I haven't asked her yet." Emmett turned visibly red then—bright splotches against his alabaster complexion. The color lingered. What was happening to him?
"Well, then. The ring," said Esoterica in a bored voice.
"Oh! Oh no! For the love of All! Give us some privacy, please. This is kind of . . . personal," said Emmett.
Columbia's eyebrows shot up her forehead, and her mouth curled down like a half-moon. "And why, may I ask, is it personal? This is a mere formality. I knew you were getting soft, Emmett. A hundred years out of life have made you kriot-filled, sentimental, and foolish."
"N-no, no indeed! And there's no call to insult me, Columbia. It's just that I must perform certain tests and rituals when I place the artifact, best kept from public disclosure." Emmett focused his most affable smile on the gyre of circling spirits. "Besides, I've only been out of life for fifty years, not one hundred." He winked at Pan, who doubled over with laughter, and flipped his throne over backwards, only to come bobbing back up.
"You've lost track," said Columbia. "Or you are lying. No matter. A spirit as pathetic as you needs all the help he can get, even if it must be in this way. If you are to be believed, this mortal will be a strong spiritualist, capable of protecting against the Coming End. So be it. Have your privacy."
"It's all the same to me," said Esoterica, buffing his fingernails. He called out to the circle, "Does anyone else object?"
No one spoke. Finally, the creaky old spirit near the top said, "What about the girl? Does she object?"
"Object to what? No one will tell me what this is about!" I said. I mean honestly! Talking about me in third person and ignoring me like I wasn't even there!
"I was getting to that," said Emmett, sinking down slightly. He addressed the spirits again. "If I could just speak to her alone!"
Esoterica rose and stood on the air. "I see no significant objection here. We have decided. Pending this mortal girl's approval, Emmett shall be allowed to take one living protégée, as befits his honored status as a spirit of two millennia. He shall be allowed to proceed without further untoward interference. Emmett, you will keep us apprised of her progress, unnaturally, and we bid you congratulations and best wishes. There will be a party in your honor, of course. Do see if you can find it this time. Until then, we'll leave you to your privacy." Esoterica coasted down to Emmett and shook his hand. "Congratulations," he said. Then he took my hand and said, "Best wishes." While I tried to sling the ectoplasmic moisture from my hand, he glided away, dissipating as he went, until only a mist remained.
"He slimed me," I said.
"Yes, very smart fellow, Esoterica. I might have thought of that. Protects against all that undisciplined spectricity," said Emmett.
"I'm disciplined," I said. Columbia shook Emmett's hand, and extended her slimy palm to me. "Best wishes," she murmured, but her eyes said, "Watch out!" Before I could wonder why, Pan had grasped my hand, falling all over himself to give me his best wishes.
Each spirit congratulated Emmett and gave me best wishes in turn, my hand now so covered in ecto-slime that no one feared a shock. I felt like a bride in some twisted version of a receiving line. This was all getting way out of control! What had I gotten myself into?
At last, the creaky old spirit from the top came down to pay his respects. He patted Emmett's hand as he congratulated him. "Don't you pay Columbia no mind. That time before, weren't no fault of yours," he wheezed. Then to me, he said, "Best wishes, dear. I'd be attached to you too, if I could. You make a lovely couple."
The creaky old spirit wafted out, waving and smiling. When he had wholly disappeared, I whirled on Emmett, shaking my gooey fingers in his face.
"What exactly did he mean by that? 'You make a lovely couple.' Emmett, you tell me what this is about! And how do I get this stuff off my hand?!" I shouted.
"I—I don't know about that last fellow. Pastoria's gone a little soft in the head. Too much hanging around in the rafters, you know?" His smile flickered. He pulled a black square of cloth from his left hip—his spectral handkerchief, I suppose—and swiped the slime from my hand. He tossed the cloth onto his left shoe, where it lay a moment, then disappeared.
"What am I so perfect for? And why are we getting congratulated?" I demanded.
"Well, I suppose it is kind of a big deal," said Emmett, pinkening again. "In the life of a spirit. If you can call it life. In a way, it might be our equivalent to marriage, but really, Aether, really—"
I turned my back. I didn't need to hear any more of this! How dare he try to trick me into their "equivalent to marriage"! I'd only known him one day! At least, I think it had been one day. Ecto-time made it really hard to tell.
I felt my body lift and spin to face Emmett. He'd levitated me around, and now he was still talking!
"It's actually more of a working partnership. I mean, there's a rela
tionship aspect to it, also. I mean—it'll work out well for both of us. You see, as they said, I'm allowed to take one living protégée. I've looked and I've searched, and finally, Heather, I've found you. This is my wish. I would be so honored, Aether, if you'd be my protégée."
He knelt before me. He'd actually gone down on one knee and held up a ring. A larger-than-life ring with a tall, ornate setting that dazzled my eyes, the black stone glittering like a starry midnight sky. I shifted my gaze to Emmett's face and saw only sincerity. When I lightly touched the black stone, a shock ran through me. So mesmerizing. So beautiful.
"It is a lifelong bond. For at least your current mortal life, you will be bonded to me," he said. "First as my protégée, then as a full medium, if all goes well."
"What kind of bond?" I was thinking, Emmett, you're cute and all, but I'm not sure I want to be bonded to you for a week, never mind for life! Yet I fingered the ring, thinking it over. My fingers brushed Emmett's hand. His hand stayed solid.
"I'll always be at your disposal," he said. "Summon me whenever you wish. I'll teach you about the spirit world. But we need your help to communicate with the spirit world. And we will protect each other."
"From the Turned Against?" I thought of those cloaked figures who attacked me in town. Then of evil dogs and birds and Feeders.
"Both our worlds have their share of animosity." He nodded, his brow heavy and serious.
"But the attacks. It's like there's a war going on," I said.
Emmett shook his head. "There is always a war going on, Aether." He waited, still down on one knee, his black eyes shining with hope. "More importantly, this is your ring. Even should you decide not to fulfill your destiny and become my protégée, I implore you to take this ring!"
"Why? What does it do?" I asked. I touched the ring lightly. My eyes and toes and the tips of my fingers tingled. I waggled my fingers, sparks dancing between them. I could direct the sparks as I chose—make them dance or disappear.
Emmett gave me a shrewd look, like he could see through me to something interesting on the other side. "Did you know you were this powerful?"
Mortals: Heather Despair Book One Page 13