Spirits

by Leslie Edens Copeland

  "What do you promise?" asked Teddy, his bright little eyes switching back and forth from Emmett to me.

  "Nothing," said Emmett and I together.

  "Tell me! You always keep secrets from me. I hate you!" shouted Teddy.

  The clouds edging the junkyard darkened. Teddy picked up a doll with golden eyes and curly hair. He swung it back and forth, making it hit itself with its little hands. An urge came over me to do the same, but I fought it. Emmett saw me struggling, and put his arms around me to hold me steady.

  Teddy laughed. "She's strong. Most people can't stop if I want them to do something. But watch me do this!"

  He picked up a soldier toy, a dark-haired one eerily like Emmett and bashed it into the girl doll. Again and again, he smashed the two toys together, making them fight.

  I burst free of Emmett's hold, my arms wind-milling wildly. Unable to stop myself, I knocked Emmett's glasses off. Emmett guarded his face, but did not strike back.

  "I'm sorry!" I gasped, "Stop me! Please, make me stop!"

  Emmett darted in close and put his arms around me, holding me. Now I could no longer strike him—but he was holding on a little too tight. Tighter and tighter he squeezed, until I struggled to breathe.

  "Em—!" I croaked. "Too tight, let go!"

  Emmett frowned with fierce concentration and wrenched his arms violently apart, with such force that he overextended his shoulders.

  "Ow, ow!" he yelped.

  "Are you all right?" I croaked, still catching my breath.

  "Are you?" Emmett massaged his sore shoulders.

  "I'm okay," we said at the same time and laughed.

  Teddy snorted

  "Stop this, Teddy," said Emmett. "You can't make us turn on each other. I love you, but this isn't right. If you don't stop, there will be consequences!"

  Teddy ignored Emmett and turned to the cloud bank, busily forming more toys with his hands.

  "He used to do things like this. Creepy things no one could explain. Then the accident happened," said Emmett.

  "So, you remember?" I clasped my hands together.

  "I'm . . . starting to. It's fuzzy. Don't you—have something to help with that? A key?" asked Emmett.

  A key? The spirit Emmett had hundreds of keys, but we hadn't found anything like that. Wherever his kriot went, he didn't carry it around as a mortal.

  "I wish I knew what to look for," I said. "You keep asking for something you hid, but I have no idea where. We've only got the entire spirit world to check over."

  Emmett shook his head. "No. I wouldn't have hidden it there. It goes to someone I trust. In fact, haven't you got it?" he asked.

  "Got what? I haven't got anything," I said.

  "Heather, we can discuss this later. Right now, I really need that book," said Emmett.

  I pressed my hands to my face. "The scroll!"

  Please, let it still be there! I touched my sweater sleeve. Not there.

  Tried the other side. An unraveling cylinder, and did it grow longer and longer as I pulled it from my sleeve? How did it ever fit? "Could this be what you're looking for?" I held out the full-sized scroll in amazement. "This isn't a spirit notebook for me. It's your Nonbook, isn't it?"

  "Indeed," said Emmett. He plucked the scroll from my hand. He pulled out a length of the parchment and scanned it. "Let me review the instructions."

  Emmett held the Nonbook up, shut one eye, and inspected it with the other. Then he held it at arms' length and eyed it suspiciously. Finally, he said in a low voice, "That's an obscure reference. I expect I'm meant to decipher what that means." He read aloud from the scroll.

  "I have to write . . . what was unwritten. I have to read what was unread. Joiner of worlds, quintessence of aether, ghostwriter of the dead."

  As he read, his expression morphed from the blank look I'd become used to over the past weeks, to the whimsical and slightly absurd expression I remembered from our first meeting.

  "Heather, who's the ghostwriter?" he said.

  "Hmmm. You are the ghost, or you were. But I believe I am the writer," I said.

  "These instructions clearly want someone who meets both our qualifications. But they name you. See, right there—that's your name." He pointed to the word "aether."

  I shook my head slightly. "Even if that is me, Em, I don't know how to write what is unwritten or read what is unread. Joiner of worlds? Quintessence? I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

  Emmett closed one eye and squinted at me with the other, just as he had with the Nonbook.

  "Despite your protestations, you're Aether. I'd recognize you anywhere. Here you are, turning up in a junkyard like a bit of treasure among the trash, long mislaid, but you're as Aether as you were that first day." He took my hand. "I've missed you so deeply, so much," he said, his eyes sad with longing.

  I squeezed his hand, a little tingle tickling my stomach. "I've been right here. For almost a month now," I said.

  "But you were gone such a long time before that. I was so lonely . . . and nothing but him." Emmett indicated Teddy, who sat on the cloud bank, his soldiers broken and scattered around him, his finger up to the knuckle in his nose. We both shuddered.

  "I'm sorry you were lonely, Em. Truly . . . sorry," I said. His eyes searched mine. The tingle moved into my knees. A funny little smile played across his face.

  "You always used to call me Em. Come here," he said softly. He pulled me close and—he kissed me.

  I leaned into him, not sure what to do, my head spinning, feeling his lips soft against mine. My hands forgotten on their own, my mouth pressed against his sweet, warm mouth, my heart beating against his chest. He surrounded me with his arms. I'd wanted this for such a long time and now, I never wanted it to end.

  So, when he stopped to stroke my face and gaze into my eyes, I pulled him to me again. I kissed him deep, all my uncertainty dropping away. I lost myself in his kiss, until our energies seem to merge as one. Too late, I heard the crackle of spectricity. A small explosion of blue plumed around us, taking my breath away. Then we were apart, Emmett standing several feet away with a stunned expression.

  "Em?" I ventured. "Emmett? What happened?"

  He gulped and blushed a deep red, his mouth an awed grin.

  "Are you all right? Did I shock you?" I asked.

  He touched his hand to his mouth, still awed. "You did. And you did it just right, Aether. You knew exactly how, or I did, one of us . . ."

  "We," I said. I could not stop smiling. He kissed me! Emmett finally kissed me!

  "Yes, we wrote what was unwritten," said Emmett.

  "That wasn't writing," I said, touching my lips.

  "You . . . this . . . is my past. You were my past, Aether, in a long-ago incarnation, when I first gave you the Ring of Esperance. My past was unwritten—voided, nullified, cruxed. And with your kiss . . ."

  "I wrote what was unwritten," I said.

  "You have brought me back to myself," said Emmett, nodding. "And what's better, I've got you back." He gazed into my golden eyes with those black, infinite eyes and the space between us vanished. We were together, entwined, kissing softly. He whispered, "Don't ever let me go."

  Again, our energies merged, but this time, the spectricity hummed between us. We basked in its warmth. I whispered "Em" in his ear, and he blushed and whispered back, "Aether. At last."

  The arrows whizzing around us were very real, and Emmett nearly took one in the chest. I screamed and squeezed him tight. Behind us, Teddy fired arrows from a toy bow. They stuck in the clouds around us with sharp, deadly-looking points. One bounced off me, knocked aside by the spectricity.

  "I'm Cupid!" Teddy's smile was wild and fierce. He pointed an arrow straight at Emmett's chest. "I shoot you in the heart!"

  Emmett looked at the arrows, then at Teddy in disbelief. "I won't allow you to do this anymore. You will not hurt Heather or anyone in the spirit or mortal realms! You are hereby banished, Theodore Fitzhugh!"

  "Nyah! You can't banish me! You'r
e only a mortal," said Teddy, sticking out his tongue. He fired again and Emmett barely managed to dodge.

  I grabbed Emmett's hand and ran, shielding us both with a layer of spectricity. I fired bolts of blue fire behind us. They blasted the ground at Teddy's feet, destroying his bear.

  "Don't!" shouted Emmett. "It never works to fight him head on."

  A cry issued from Teddy when he saw the tattered, smoking remains of his toy bear.

  "You killed Mr. Bells! You're mean!" he screamed.

  A shower of arrows rained down and I had to focus to deflect them all. They'd come out of nowhere! Teddy hadn't even used a bow. I grimaced at Emmett in desperation and shouted, "How is he doing this?"

  "He's my brother. He's powerful. Do you see now?" said Emmett.

  My spectricity flickered and waned.

  "Uh oh." I tried to raise my shield and got only a slight flicker in return.

  "Run!" shouted Emmett.

  We took off, hand in hand, down the closest junk corridor. Dodging burning piles of brimstone, we scrambled beneath the overturned body of a half-crushed car.

  "Why is he doing this?" I whispered.

  "Thinks he can get away with murder in his own little universe," Emmett whispered.

  "How is this junkyard his? He may be powerful, but he's just a little boy," I said.

  "Heather, that's Bellum out there," said Emmett. "This junkyard is his Lexiverse. And he means to kill us."

  My breath left me as I doubled over in shock. Emmett covered my mouth with his hand. Outside, Teddy paced by, his little white shoes kicking the sand. He carried a jump rope, a toy gun, and his bow.

  "Emmett!" he called. "I'll let you have your choice of weapons. Come out and play!"

  We froze as he passed by, hardly daring to breathe. A million questions whirled through my mind. I crouched in the sand, eyeing Emmett's tense face.

  When Teddy's footsteps faded from earshot, Emmett whispered, "He knows where we are, I think. He's playing with us. Always playing."

  "How is that Bellum?" I whispered.

  "Yes, Bellum is my brother. A fact I often conveniently forget. Helps preserve what sanity I have left. Teddy is the form he took in his most recent mortal incarnation." Emmett's head hung low. He squeezed my hand.

  "How could you forget that?" I whispered. "Emmett, this is not convenient. We have to escape."

  I stared down at our locked hands.

  "The ring," I said.

  "Try," said Emmett.

  I twisted the stone. Nothing.

  "He always breaks my stuff," muttered Emmett. "That was an enchantment of the All, wasn't it? Bellum can block it from in here. This is his universe now."

  "What does he want?" I huddled closer to Emmett. From far away, Teddy's high-pitched voice called again.

  "What he always wants. To fight the All for the Coming End," whispered Emmett.

  "But the Bellum can't challenge you when you're mortal!" I said.

  "It does him no good to fight a mortal. He wants the All," said Emmett, his face heavy with sorrow.

  "Then you're safe. Except . . ." I puzzled.

  "Except he's trying to kill us. Killing mortals while he's a spirit god is a bad strategy. It will weaken his spirit essence, so he usually has his minions do it for him. But he has no minions here. It's only him and us. If he kills me, he can get to the All. But if he kills you—oh, great All, Heather, if he kills you—" Emmett could not finish.

  I saw it again, in my mind's eye—the flash of light and fury. The spectricity that flung my father into oblivion. Again, I heard Shirleen say, "He came back all burned and withered. They diagnosed a type of cancer no one had ever seen before."

  Some people had to learn the hard way. But I wouldn't let it end like that. I wasn't giving up that easily!

  "I'll incant you into the All!" I said to Emmett. "Then you'll fix the ring, so we can escape!"

  "I'm mortal," said Emmett.

  "So, what you're saying is—" Fear gripped me as the meaning of his words sunk in.

  Emmett bowed his head to me. "I think we both knew this couldn't last," he said. He looked up, his eyes so sad and dark. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. "Could you kiss me one last time?"

  "NO! Emmett, not death! There has to be another way!" My voice grew louder as I fought against the idea. "You said he has to kill the All, not you! You're safe as a mortal!" I touched his face, clutching him desperately. How many of my precious loved ones would Bellum steal from me?

  Emmett brushed my cheek softly, his eyes resolute. "Heather, shh. He's not going to let this go. Teddy—Bellum—wants the All. Only my spirit self can become the All. He'd kill for that. It'll be me or you. Heather—Aether—it will not be you. Not again."

  I stared at him, my mouth open. "Are you saying this little creep's killed me before?"

  Emmett closed his eyes and a tear slid down his face. "When I refused to fight him. I didn't think he'd really do it. You weren't even involved in our struggle! It didn't get him anything except he hurt me by hurting you. He killed for spite." Emmett opened his eyes, teeth clenched, face stricken with pain. "I can't think about it. Right now, I'm concerned with keeping you alive."

  I touched his arm gently and he jumped.

  "One last time," he said. Tears welled up in my eyes as Emmett tilted my face to his, kissing me tenderly. His lips tasted of tears. He enclosed me in his arms and I felt him shaking against me.

  "Don't go," I whispered. "Please stay with me."

  "I have to. I will not let him kill you," said Emmett. I tugged at him, but he let me go, crawling from our hiding place. With heavy steps he walked away, down the junk corridor to meet the Bellum.

  Chapter Seven

  The Death of Emmett

  "Teddy? I'm ready to play. You're a monster and we both know it. Just make it quick." Emmett's voice shook, but he continued walking in the open, searching for Bellum.

  "I'm probably better off dead anyway," I overheard Emmett say to himself.

  I wouldn't let him do this! I struggled from under the car body to follow Emmett. A tinkle of metal behind me stopped me cold. I turned.

  Teddy grinned, standing atop the car body and aiming his arrows straight at me. Mere feet away. "Gotcha," he whispered.

  I heard screaming then—Emmett—and then shouting. "Bellum Omnium Contra Omnes! Get out here and let's finish this! Now!"

  Emmett's voice, so filled with pain, brought tears to my eyes. Teddy snorted and gestured to me to climb up the junk pile. I raised my arms and stepped up, hoping his attention would lapse and I could make a move. He kept the arrows trained directly on me the whole time. From the top of the pile, I spotted Emmett standing in the corridor alone. I kicked a piece of scrap metal that clanged down the pile. Emmett looked up. Our eyes met. Emmett paled when he saw Teddy holding his bow, taut with many arrows, at my throat.

  Teddy giggled. "I captured the queen. Now I take out both of you. I win!"

  "NO!" howled Emmett. "Teddy, please. I will fight you. I will do it, for real and no going mortal. But never if you harm her. Never."

  I shook my head at Emmett, but his look of fierce resolve stopped me. I nodded slightly, and gave him the same determined look back. We were trapped, but come what may—I was with him.

  Emmett stood up straighter and his stare burned into Teddy, who glanced from me to Emmett, his eyebrows raised in suspicion. He'd lived millennia causing discord between people. I think Teddy could tell when we were in sync. Still, it wouldn't stop him. The prospect of fighting the All was everything Teddy lived—and died—for.

  Sure enough, Teddy called down, "You promise to fight me? You promise?"

  Emmett nodded once, his teeth gritted.

  "Don't move and I won't hurt the queen," said Teddy.

  "You'll be quick?" said Emmett. My heart thumped hard, realizing what they were about to do. Teddy wouldn't really—would he?

  "Yeah, quick!" Teddy laughed so evil then, a nasty little giggle. I wanted to pun
ch him, but his arrows were still at my throat.

  "I'm ready." Emmett closed his eyes, face tensed. He waited. Nothing happened, so he opened his eyes and fixed Teddy with his fierce, determined glare. He lifted his chin.

  And his eyes met mine, dark pools I could get lost in, and he looked so lost himself, standing with his chin raised and his chest exposed. He reached out toward me.

  "Good-bye," Emmett said, his gaze never wavering from my eyes.

  Teddy had taken the arrows off me. He aimed them straight for Emmett's own mortal heart.

  "Em!" I screamed.

  I moved to knock Teddy aside. But he'd released the arrows. They whizzed through the air straight at Emmett while Teddy screamed, "To fight me, first you have to DIE! DIE, EMMETT, DIE!"

  The arrows flew true and when they reached Emmett, they circled like tiny missiles, whirling around him in a deadly gyre. Emmett waited, his black eyes meeting mine. I shook, sprawled on the junk pile next to Teddy, but I didn't look away. Then Teddy lifted his hands and one of the junk piles creaked up off the ground. It hung over Emmett's head, dripping sand, suspended.

  "DIE! DIE! DIE!" screamed Teddy and the arrows turned, struck Emmett's chest, pierced his heart, wracked his body. Bloody and broken, he fell to his knees, his dark eyes still locked with mine. I shook with terror and agony—then the junk pile crashed down, covering his body and muffling his moans. Teddy fired the toy gun into the center of the junk. BB shot pinged off the twisted metal. Then, silence.

  "Dead," said Teddy, with a satisfied nod. He stood tall, looking over the junk where Emmett had fallen, then he trained several arrows on me and waited.

  I licked my lips where the taste of Emmett's kiss still lingered, but my tears were quickly washing it away. He tasted of the lightning strike during a storm—like sweet, open air that buzzed on the tongue. I took out the Nonbook, sobbing. I would write it. I would not forget.

  A pen dropped from within the Nonbook's furls. I gripped it and wrote, my tears dripping on the parchment. I wrote the smell of Emmett and the taste of him. I wrote his sunshine smile and eyes like dark wells and what it was to kiss him. I wrote of his black Victorian suit, the way he inhaled chocolate chip cookies, how he called us "sweethearts." I wrote Emmett, the mortal, down in the Nonbook for all to remember and know. My tears flowed, blocking my sight. I wiped them aside impatiently and kept writing Emmett.