by G. P. Ching
It wasn’t long before she recognized she was in a swamp. Ahead, the path ended at a body of water, coated with algae. She inched her toes closer to the edge and wondered how she might get across. Her sari was supposed to provide guidance. She looked down at the shiny material and doubted its usefulness. “Unless it can help me walk on water,” she whispered.
She took one tentative step forward. Her slipper sunk through the green slime to the mucky bottom. “Nope,” she said and pulled her soggy foot back to shore. Retreating a few steps, she held the cloth closer to her face, wondering what type of guidance it could give.
A tickle on her shoulder made her drop the cloth and swipe her hand over the spot. Fur and legs! “AHHH!” She swiped the spider from her sari. It scuttled off but more dangled above her head from eerily invisible webs. They were tarantula fat, some as large as a salad plate and all getting a little too close for comfort. “Eww,” she said, brushing her fingers over her hair frantically to check for more. She backed away until her heels touched the edge of the water.
“Deepest fears. Yep, spiders are one of them, which means—” She turned to face the water again and saw a patch of scaly skin a foot wide break the surface. “Snakes. Large, venomous snakes.” She was talking to herself, which may have been a sign she was going insane from fear, but it helped to hear a voice say it, even if it was her own. Calling out the obstacles always helped her overcome them.
On the far bank, the path picked up again. Obviously, her first test was to get across. Then, who knew? To her right, an eye the size of a basketball broke the surface of the water. The snake was watching her. Instinctively, she stepped back from the water’s edge.
Malini’s heel stepped on something rubbery—a spider. Behind her, more spiders dropped to the pathway and approached her with hungry eyes. There were thousands of them. A creepy-crawly itch prickled across her skin, but when she looked there was nothing there. She searched the trees for a vine, a branch, anything that might help her.
A few feet to her left, a rotting log jutted into the swamp. With a leap, she landed at its base, brushing the spiders that had crawled onto her legs into the water. The murky depths churned where they fell. They did not resurface. The other spiders stopped at the water’s edge, presumably fearful of the predator within.
Malini shuffled down the log anyway, aware that the eye that had been watching her had sunk back into the swamp and the current around the log was uneven, as if something large waited just below the surface.
The boom-boom of her heart threatened to knock her off her perch. The other bank was too far away to reach without wading through the water and going back was not an option. Hundreds of spiders now crowded the roots of the fallen tree, thousands of eyes locked on her every move.
“Guidance,” she stammered. She ran her hand over her sari again. “I need help!” she cried. No one answered. She was alone. At the hem of her pallu, the loose end of the sari, she felt a thread hanging. Without thinking, she peeled it off with unsteady fingers.
A bead of sweat fell from her forehead. She placed the thread across her palm, wondering what Fatima had meant about the fabric being her guide. What made the material special? It was so hot and humid that her head swam as she tried to examine the fiber. She dug her toes into the bark to steady herself.
Concentrating on the thread, she became aware that the shimmer was caused by alternating light and dark pieces along its length. On … off … on … on … off. Maybe it was a code, like how a computer reads pulses of electricity. But how could she read it? The answer came quickly on the question’s heels. As she focused on the fiber, the pulsating light wrapped around her body and pulled her into the thread.
With a jolt, she found herself in a clearing on the edge of a jungle. The ground was sandy, broken by the occasional mound of green brush. A tiny Indian girl looked out over the landscape.
“Hello?” Malini said. The girl did not respond. Reaching out, Malini tried to shake the girl’s shoulder, but her fingers passed right through.
“Wisnu!” the girl called. Her voice was urgent, worried.
An older woman approached, a basket on her hip. “Come, Avantia. It is time to go.”
Malini startled at the name. Avantia was the name of her great-great-grandmother.
“We can’t go, Mama. Wisnu is missing.”
“Who is this Wisnu you are talking about?”
“My pet. The lady gave him to me.”
“What lady?”
“The old lady in the jungle. She gave me Wisnu.”
“We have no room for pets, Avantia. Let the woman keep her strays. We don’t need another mouth to feed.”
“Don’t worry, Mama. He lives outside and he hunts his own food. Wisnu! Wisnu!”
“Stop playing. It is time to go. Baba will be angry if we are late.”
The girl stomped her foot. “Not without my Wisnu.”
At this the older woman snatched the child’s wrist and dragged her toward the two ruts that Malini assumed served as a road. Avantia followed behind obediently, weeping and mumbling, “Goodbye, Wisnu.”
Abruptly, Malini came out of the thread and back into her head. Bending her knees, she struggled to maintain her balance on the rotten log. What kind of guidance was that? A child calling for an invisible pet? She placed the thread into her pocket with a huff and wiped her head with the back of her hand. So hot.
Before she knew what was happening, the log beneath her feet crumbled inward, its rotting flesh unable to hold her weight a moment longer. She dropped into the swamp. Thankfully, the water wasn’t deep. Her feet hit bottom. Popping her head above the surface, she raced, half running, half swimming for the opposite shore.
The thick, scaly body of the snake wrapped around her waist. She tried to push it away, but in seconds it had coiled around her, ankle to chest. The head came around to face her, and she looked into the yellow eyes of the thing that had been watching her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to make herself as big as possible. She knew how this would work. Once she exhaled, the snake would tighten. Unable to inhale again, she would suffocate and the snake would eat her. She had only one breath left. She had to use it wisely.
“Wisnu!” she screamed as loud as she could. It was her only hope. She had to trust that Fatima had given her the sari for a reason and that the piece of history she had seen would be somehow useful. Her breath gone, the snake constricted. It rolled her under the water with bone-crushing strength.
Malini didn’t bother to struggle. Beneath the murky depths, she tried to clear her mind, to accept death with dignity. The light of the red stone flickered as she sank to the bottom. The snake’s open mouth approached her head.
To her surprise, the vise around her waist loosened. She was thrust to the surface. Gasping for air, she forced her crushed and aching body to shore. On nothing but adrenaline fumes, she propelled herself onto the delta of sand. Air entered her lungs in hungry gulps. She searched the swamp for the miracle that had freed her.
What she saw filled her with dread. A gigantic rat had attacked the snake. Razor-sharp teeth flashed. It locked its jaws around the reptile and Malini watched grayish-brown fur and scaly skin tumble into the water. All Malini could think of was how the scene reminded her of a Godzilla episode. Would she be the tasty prize for the winner?
Spiders, snakes, and rats: the hellish trifecta of terror. The horrific din of the monsters battling in the swamp ended. By the shreds of reptile littering the shore, Malini guessed the rat had won. Would it come for her next?
Tears boiled up and spilled down her cheeks. She tried to run, but her body wasn’t ready and she crumpled to the pathway. She tried again, succeeding to drag herself a few blessed lengths up the path. But the surge of adrenaline had used up everything she had. Her muscles refused to work for one more minute. Closing her eyes, she waited for the rat to attack, and tried to stop the uncontrollable trembling that had overtaken her body, despite the languid heat.
Something w
arm and wet slid up her cheek. Her eyes popped open. There was a mousy snout touching her nose, and two dark brown eyes that looked crossed, they were so close.
“Gah!” She startled backward in the sand.
An uncommonly long pink tongue jetted out and up the side of her face, over her ear.
“Eww.” The tongue was gross but the rat wasn’t gnawing on her. She pushed herself to a seated position. “Either you’re friendly or you’re tasting me. Which is it?”
In response, the creature, which was roughly the size of a tiger, sat on its haunches.
“I’m going to presume friendly. You aren’t a rat at all, are you?” She could see more of him now and the spotted tail that was beginning to dry on the bank of the swamp. “You’re a mongoose. I’ve been saved by a giant mongoose.” She giggled and the animal jumped to its feet and turned in a circle at the sound.
Then an idea flashed in her mind. It was an idea so crazy she almost didn’t want to say it out loud. “Are you Wisnu?” she asked softly.
Of course, she didn’t expect an answer, but the mongoose stepped forward and bowed.
“It is you. You’re Wisnu. Wow, saved by my great-great-grandmother’s magical pet mongoose. I did not see that coming.” She reached forward and scratched Wisnu behind the ears. “I guess this is what Fatima meant about going back to go forward.”
Wisnu lowered his entire body next to her. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she had the sense she should climb on, that Wisnu wanted her to ride him. The spiders in the branches above her were the only encouragement she needed. She accepted Wisnu’s invitation and climbed onto his back, burying her hands in the fur near his neck.
He was off. Malini clutched his pelt to keep from falling off as he bounded down the trail. Soon the trees thinned and Wisnu paused on an emerald-green plain. Malini slipped from the animal’s back and stretched out on the grassy knoll, grateful she’d escaped the swamp.
Finding herself in relative safety, she gave in to the pressing exhaustion. Her last thought before drifting off was of Wisnu keeping guard beside her.
Chapter 19
Confrontation
Thankfully, the Laudners were quick to forgive Jacob for leaving the hospital without permission. They were probably too exhausted from keeping vigil at Katrina’s bedside night and day to worry about their healthy nephew. Katrina wasn’t any better and the doctors were hesitant to give a prognosis. So, after a brief scolding, they let Jacob off the hook.
Later, across from Dr. Silva in her parlor, Jacob finished telling the story of Eden for the second time. Mara glared at Dr. Silva with pit-bull resolve. She wanted answers. None were forthcoming.
Dr. Silva clutched the schedule and letter in her hands. She leaned back in her chair, tapping her foot nervously. Jacob had long given up on trying to follow her darting gaze.
“How can this be? I’ve never heard of this in all my generations. Gideon? Did you know?” Dr. Silva asked tentatively.
Gideon paced in front of the fireplace, a habit that was becoming all too familiar to Jacob. His wings twitched. The air around him crackled. Jacob had never seen him so agitated. “No, I did not. But you must remember we are not of Soulkeeper blood and you were called to this role after Warwick’s lifetime.”
“Did they all die?” Mara asked. “How many Soulkeepers are left?”
Dr. Silva shifted in her chair. “I’ve always thought only Helpers trained Soulkeepers. I knew of your great-great-grandfather, Jacob. I even suspected he was a Soulkeeper. But never did I suspect he was part of something like this. A school! For Soulkeepers! And a council!”
“Dr. Silva, answer the question. How many Soulkeepers are left? You must know. You must have a way of finding them or you wouldn’t have found me.” Mara pushed a piece of hot pink hair from her forehead. She locked eyes with Dr. Silva and Jacob shivered at the aggression that was in that look. Mara wasn’t afraid … of anything.
“I didn’t know, until recently,” Dr. Silva whispered.
Gideon, who’d resumed his pacing away from her, turned on his heel. His eyebrows knit and his lips parted.
“I suspected what we were dealing with when I saw the reports of the missing. It’s not just Chicago, Mara. It’s everywhere. No one likes to talk about it. You humans think it will always happen to someone else. I know better. This new activity reeks of Watcher.”
She spread her hands as if there was nothing more to say.
“Spill it, Abigail,” Mara said.
“I knew something was going on and I needed to pull a team together to investigate. But when I visited the medicine woman and asked for names, she wouldn’t give them to me. She said the time wasn’t right for me to organize a larger team of Soulkeepers. But I knew … I knew Jacob wasn’t ready to do this alone, even with Lillian’s help.”
“And, so? How did you find Mara?” Jacob asked.
“I conjured the list with sorcery.”
“No!” Gideon dug his fingers into his hair. Heat and light rolled off of him like he was radioactive. “Why, Abigail?”
“I don’t get it,” Mara said. “What’s the big deal? Why does it look like your head’s about to explode?”
“Abigail walks a space between Heaven and Hell. She has access to things through her sorcery that no other can rival. To use that power against the advice of the medicine woman is pure folly and she knows it. Our Healer is our only hope in these dark times,” Gideon explained.
“So, you broke the rules. You conjured my name. So what?” Mara asked.
“I conjured all of their names.”
At this, Gideon sat down on the leather recliner so hard Jacob thought it might buckle under the force. “That’s how they know. That’s why the Watchers know who they are! You brought knowledge into the temporal realm. How could you not realize that Lucifer could reach it here? How could you not realize he would be watching you, waiting for you to make a mistake?” Gideon glowed brighter. Jacob leaned away from him.
“It needed to be done!” Dr. Silva snapped. Her eyes flashed in a way that couldn’t be mistaken for human. “The medicine woman is ancient. She’s out of touch with contemporary society. She didn’t give me a prophecy and she certainly didn’t give me a mandate. She simply wouldn’t help me. Don’t you see, Gideon? Organizing the Soulkeepers would mean she might have to leave the Amazon. She’s two-hundred-fifty-eight years old! Don’t tell me it wasn’t self-serving for her to deny me. Don’t tell me she wasn’t hoping I would wait until the next medicine woman passed her initiation. Hell, she might have known about Malini.”
“You don’t always know better, Abigail. We have roles for a reason.” Gideon smashed his fist into his palm.
“We don’t know for certain they have the list. I put a very strong Nocturous spell on it. For all we know, they were bluffing. Lucifer knows the list was conjured. He might not know who is on it.”
Mara held up a finger. “They have to know. They came after Jacob.”
“They already knew who Jacob was. He killed Mordechai last year in Nod. We knew they would come for him sooner or later. But the fact Katrina passed Lillian up the first time she tried to kill you means the Watcher inside of her didn’t know what she was initially. That could mean they can’t read the list.”
Jacob rubbed his temples, his mind reeling. He tried his best to sort out everything he’d just learned.
“I saw that thing, the Watcher who came out of Katrina, take some sort of picture of Malini before it escaped. If they didn’t know what she was from the list, they know now. She’s at the hospital alone. Someone needs to protect her. They’ll come after her for sure.” Jacob rose to his feet.
“I’ve enchanted her room. No one can reach her, only the illusion. She’s not there anyway, not really. She’ll be gone for three days and if she comes back, she’ll be a true Healer. She’ll be more powerful than all of us,” Dr. Silva answered.
“What do you mean, if?” Jacob said through his teeth.
Gideon and
Dr. Silva exchanged glances. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, Jacob. The reason the medicine woman is over two hundred years old is because the last two Healers did not survive their initiation. Malini has everything she needs to survive but if she chooses not to trust in the gifts God has given her, she will die.”
Jacob swallowed hard and fell back onto the sofa. To prevent sprinting out the door, he clutched the plaid fabric. She wasn’t there, not really. And he couldn’t protect her this time. He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. He tried to accept that this was one journey she had to complete on her own.
Mara reached across the coffee table and grabbed Dr. Silva’s wrist. “How many are there, Abigail?”
Dr. Silva frowned at Mara’s grip. “There were thirteen on the list. Three Helpers, not including myself or Gideon, nine Horsemen, and one Healer. Thirteen Soulkeepers.”
Mara dropped Dr. Silva’s wrist and cupped her fist in front of her lips. “That’s it? We need to hold back the tide of Hell with fifteen people?”
“No,” Dr. Silva said. “Thirteen people, one angel, and me.”
Chapter 20
At Death’s Door
Malini awoke to Wisnu’s wet tongue lapping up the side of her head. He alternated licking her face and nudging her shoulder. Once she was fully conscious, she understood the why behind the alarm clock routine. The stone’s glow was noticeably dimmer.
She pulled herself to her feet feeling achy but better than before. The bruises she should have had from the snake’s choking grip didn’t exist. From the outside, she didn’t look hurt at all. On the inside, well, she refused to give those feelings a voice just yet.
Wasting no more time, she continued her journey down the dirt path. Eventually, she could make out a magnificent stone castle on the horizon. She climbed on Wisnu and urged him forward, closing the distance to the castle at a high run. But when he’d reached the garden in front of the stone steps, the mongoose stopped, pinned his ears against his head, and growled in the direction of the dark fortress.