Spirits

by Leslie Edens Copeland

  Emmett was still talking. "And don't let anyone else get close to you, either. I can take off the curse if I can sense what it is, but all this time in the Underwood has lessened my abilities. You, however, may be unhindered. Now Aether, I want you to reach out with your mind—no, don't let go of my hand."

  His death grip on my hand hurt a little, but I didn't mind in the least. Suddenly, there before Plouton, I could wait no longer. I had to hear him say it before we did one more thing together.

  "Emmett," I whispered into his ear. "Are you my boyfriend?" My face burned at hearing the words leave my mouth. One last wisp of sap flitted away, toward the ceiling.

  "I beg your pardon?" Emmett went from brisk to flustered in half a second of ecto-time. Then he shimmered. I'd never seen him do that before. He shimmered like a lake in a light rainfall. Oh, he was beautiful! Could I get away with kissing him here? Plouton would never know the difference.

  "Are you my boyfriend?" I repeated in a louder voice.

  Now Emmett's consistency resembled something fizzy, effervescent. He pinkened.

  "Of course I am, Aether," he said, still trying to play it cool despite the fact that he resembled a glass of pink soda.

  "And I'm your girlfriend?" I said, my voice squeaking with delight. I never thought I'd be so excited to hear Emmett say it—but I was, I really was!

  "Oh, for the love of All," said Emmett, grinning. "You're my girlfriend. Come kiss me."

  I floated into his embrace, pressing my lips to his. Several shocks passed through me, taking my breath away, but I tilted my head back and kissed him even more passionately. I'd give him the hour in ecto-time that I had promised right now . . . but then he dematerialized and I had to let him go.

  He re-appeared seconds later, quite flustered. "Aether, I . . . you . . ." he said. "We . . ." He fumbled for words and we stood gazing at each other, lost to our surroundings.

  "We what?" I said. I took his hands in mine. I beamed at him, absolutely overflowing with energy, and smiled up at him. We could do anything! Together, we were unstoppable. Right then, I knew we could!

  "What are you doing, All?" asked Plouton. "And would you like to do it a little closer to me? Bring your protégée, too. I'll wager she's got nice, pink brains to match her face."

  "We . . . have to get to work," said Emmett. "But you gave me such a burst of energy! I feel like a bolt of lightning!"

  It was true. He stood up straighter and materialized like a champion, although a silly grin remained on his face.

  "Okay, I'll help you free this cow-person right now," I said. "But I must fulfill your wish when we're done."

  "My wish?" Emmett kissed the back of my hand with a small crackle that ended in my fingertips.

  "Yes. I believe you were promised an hour in ecto-time," I whispered.

  "Oh, that wish." Emmett shimmered again. His eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Aether, you're the most amazing mortal to walk in both worlds. Please, I want you to reach out with your mind and tell me what words Teddy said to Plouton. This curse is like the common cold. It's super annoying and there are thousands of permutations. And because you're so wonderful, I know you can figure out which version of the curse Teddy used."

  "All right, Em. Because you're so wonderful, I know you can guide me." I squeezed his hand and quick-kissed his cheek, sparks flashing in my vision. I marveled at the spectricity that danced around our locked grip.

  I breathed deeply, then cast out with my mind in Plouton's direction. I worried that this wouldn’t' work if I couldn't touch him, like Madame Fustery did when she saw into Emmett's mind. However, Plouton was a spirit god. Even though compromised, he was still a pretty strong sender. I picked up on his desire for us to come closer right away. I took one step in his direction, but Emmett held me fast. Delving past Plouton's surface desires, I sensed for his recent memories.

  "I see Teddy standing before Plouton," I said, my eyes shut tightly. "I can hear Teddy speaking the curse. I know the words, but I don't want to say them aloud."

  The words he'd spoken sounded like a crazy word salad. I knitted my forehead to hold on to the order of the weird little rhyme Teddy had spoken.

  Crux crush curse

  zumie zornie zambie

  flux flesh flex

  zimbie zumbie zombie.

  "Don't speak it, by All!" said Emmett. "I forgot to tell you that, but of course, you're brilliant, my little protégée. Simply send me a message."

  I concentrated hard on sending to Emmett exactly what I'd heard. My eyes were closed and I didn't notice anything unusual until I heard Teddy's mad cackle. Then a blow struck me. I tumbled headlong through the air, my breath knocked from me, thrown from Emmett's grasp. Gasping for air, I opened my eyes and saw Teddy rubbing his hands together with delight. How did he get loose? He must have run at me and hit me as hard as his little body could manage, knocking me forward.

  I slowly turned. Directly above me, I saw the well-muscled arms and legs, the strong torso and above it, the bovine face leering down at me. I had sprawled inside Plouton's enclosing circle, well within reach of the cursed spirit god.

  "Fresh brains!" screamed Plouton with frenzied joy. He grabbed for me. When he touched my arm, he hesitated, his eyes glazed with confusion.

  "You're mortal," he said, poking at me as if I were a rotten vegetable. I tried to crawl away, but he roared, "I'll eat you anyway!" and lunged, his horns extended to gore me.

  I rolled and dodged. At that moment, Plouton froze in his pursuit. His body was edged with a golden glow as he stood statue-like above me. I heard Emmett reciting the curse words I had given him, only backwards. Snatches of the curse escaped to my ears, as Emmett muttered into his hands: "Crux . . . curse . . . zorn . . . flux . . . zombie . . ."

  Plouton straightened up and stood, a frozen Minotaur. Shaking, I crept from the circle and back into Emmett's arms. He flickered badly from fright, holding me close, and buried his face in my hair. Humming surrounded our embrace.

  "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered. "Again."

  "Never," I said. "We can do anything, Em. You did exactly the right thing." I kissed him with a little zap and he shone forth bravely, solid and material.

  "Yes. Yes, I did, didn't I? Plouton's in stasis. Now, to remove the curse." Emmett cracked his knuckles, with a sound like a thousand shots. It echoed in the chamber. Emmett glanced nervously over at Teddy. "I hope they've got him restrained this time."

  "Oh, my All!" I said when I saw Teddy. Black and red demons covered the boy like enormous ornament on a tiny Christmas tree. They bit him whenever he moved.

  Watching this, Emmett winced. Then, tapping the side of his head, he said, "My memory is so awful. For the undoing incantation, I have to reverse the words with a negating syllable on each word. The correct syllable is either em or en."

  Emmett bared his palms to me. In the center of each hand lay a symbol. One was shaped like a two-winged creature. The other slashed down the middle of his hand like a twisted lightning bolt. Em and en.

  I held up the Nonbook. Maybe the answer would be within it. But Emmett shook his head. His eyes bored into mine, deep and black.

  "It's not in there," he said. "I'm afraid there's only one place you can find it. You'll have to cast into my mind."

  In his tower, and in his mind, and in the book he left behind. His mind. The last remaining place that Pastoria advised me to look. And I, Heather d'Espers, had an affinity for reading spirit minds. But could I read his?

  I'd seen much of his past. What further secrets could his mind hold?

  He knelt before me, black curls flying askew. He bowed, yielding to me the part in his hair.

  "Be careful," he said. "Come out if it's too much."

  Remembering Madame Fustery, I rested my hand lightly on the back of his neck. My hand didn't sink in.

  "I will be careful," I whispered. "And gentle."

  I moved my hand to his bowed head and I cast out. At first, I was apprehensive about the spectricity
I might encounter. Yet I felt no shocking or zapping, but sank down immediately, encountering his mind like a giant book with a billion complicated pages. I saw myself moving within a giant library, feathering through book pages, and I allowed instinct to lead. Over my shoulder, a tattered moth hovered. It fluttered with my every move. Somehow, I knew the moth was Emmett with me, leading and guiding me.

  Hundreds more books floated in the veiled library space, some hung by wires, some suspended in the air, some grouped on shelves stretching high beyond my reach. This must be the spirit library. Somehow, it existed in the mind of the All, with Emmett's singular mind providing a way in. I drifted, following the moth's dizzy spins down book-filled halls to the end of a long and winding tunnel. At the very end of this tunnel lay a lecture holding a single, dark-bound book. I approached cautiously. The moth flapped its wings very fast over the cover of the book, so I carefully opened it.

  Inside, I viewed a page scribbled with arcane and esoteric passages—all in spectral script and mostly indecipherable to me, but I noted that same two-winged symbol, over and over. Em. The moth flitted and dove, stretching its wings wide over the symbol in pantomime.

  This had to be it, the symbol for the syllable that we needed.

  I had to hurry. Backing away from the strange book and the moth who guided me, I tried to recede from the library and pull quickly away from the theater of books. Too quickly. I found myself ensnared in a rush of energy, a pulse of red, liquid emotion, frothing with heat, too torrid to be part of a specter's makeup. The force of it spiraled me around and around, spinning out of control, until I washed up—on his innermost.

  A silver flashing blinded my sight. When my sight cleared, I found myself trailing along a bank of sand. The bright silver light had flattened into a mirror's surface. I saw myself there. But was that indeed me?

  I could hardly recognize myself. Through Emmett's eyes—from the center of Emmett's crux—my alien figure graced the shores of his mind. I was a queen in gold lace, with long skirts of pages billowing behind and words pouring free all around me.

  Stunned by this image, I eased away. Slowly this time, my consciousness rose and I came back to my own mind and body. I felt my heavy arms and legs as I struggled to awaken, clinging fast in my mind to the syllable that Emmett required.

  I awoke curled on the hard floor of Plouton's hall. I felt Emmett's light touch on my hair and opened my eyes. Above me, my spirit boyfriend's pale face burned crimson with emotion. His manifestation flickered in and out with worry. I forced myself to smile at him, my mouth dry and numb, then gave him the answer he was searching for.

  "Em," I said, then my head rolled sideway and my eyes slid shut. I was so exhausted.

  I heard him, as if from a great distance. He said, "She's out again. Was that it, Aether? Is the syllable em? Or were you calling my name?"

  I felt him lift my head up to cradle it in his arms and I groaned to answer, but my words wouldn't form in my mouth.

  "The stasis is fading!" Emmett said in a panic.

  "Take a chance!" I heard Percival the demon say. "This mortal radiates gold for you. She speaks truth for you!"

  "Yes." I felt Emmett lay my head down, gently, on his ecto-coat. "I have to trust you, Aether."

  He pronounced the words, negating each one with the em I'd given him.

  Cruxem crushem cursem

  zumiem zorniem zambiem

  fluxem fleshem flexem

  zimbiem zumbiem zombiem.

  I cracked one eye open to watch him recite the undoing incantation. Trickles of the words leaked from between his fingers, though he tried to conceal the curse behind his hands. I reached my had up to rub my ears as his ghost whisper tickled them.

  Then, as I finally opened both eyes, I saw Plouton freeze in response to Emmett's words. A great, golden corona blazed around him, so bright Emmett hovered over me to block out the brilliant rays. The terrible brightness made me squeeze my eyes shut again. When loud laughter boomed against the temple's stones, I dared to glance.

  There before us stood Plouton, now with a man's proud face and full beard. The bull's head had vanished.

  "HA! Thank the mighty All!" he shouted. "Release me, my demons and shades, for I am restored!"

  The demons and shades crept into the throne room little by little, cautious and jumpy. They looked to Emmett for confirmation of Plouton's words. But Emmett looked to me.

  "Aether, can you sense Plouton? Is he back to normal again?" Emmett asked, squeezing my hand in his.

  I held my ring high to sense Plouton. I cast out upon the Underwood's god. I marveled at the blast of fiery power, like the magma of the earth's core, that seethed within his full-powered manifestation. But nothing bovine, no curse, no urge to eat brains did I sense.

  "Plouton's all right! The curse is off," I croaked in a weak voice. Jubilation rose up through the ranks of the Underwood denizens. Percival waved his claw to several smaller demons to remove the chains from Plouton. Soon, the newly cured spirit god of the Underwood stepped from the circle and took his throne, his hands raised high.

  "I proclaim the All and his mortal protégée heroes of the Underwood! They shall always be welcome here!" bellowed Plouton. "They are heretofore our eternal friends. But—we shall not keep them."

  "Oh, thank you!" I said, leaning on Emmett to sit up.

  He brushed my cheek with his fingers and smiled. "You look better," he said. "You were so pale and then you passed out. I was terribly worried . . ."

  I tried to hug his shifting form, but he flickered out and I nearly fell over. Still, his smile glowed with pleasure when he next appeared.

  Plouton spread his hands wide to his cheering demon horde. In a grandiose voice, he announced, "We shall grant the All and his mortal protégée the highest honor we have to bestow."

  The demon crowd ooed and awed, clapping their claws together, stomping and hopping. The thunderous cheer echoed off the high ceiling. Outside, as the news spread, the tremendous roar of the multitude of demons and shades shook the very ground.

  "Emmett and his mortal protégée shall be allowed to pass freely back and forth, from our world to the next," said Plouton. "No one in this world shall stop them. Of course, the pure of heart cannot be held here. But we shall allow them to leave and return too, if they wish, unhindered. As none have done before!" In response to this, the crowd roared and howled and screamed.

  "You mean we could have gotten out on our own?" said Emmett. "Fascinating! I really must make a study of this. That is, if I ever get out of here to begin with."

  My heart lightened at Plouton's words. "We thank you, O Lord Plouton!"

  The Lord of the Underwood beamed, igniting new jubilation among the demons. They jumped high in the air, twisting in a crazy dance of joy. The shades followed suit by whirling and writhing in time to the demons' dancing.

  Watching them and marveling at their movements, I suddenly remembered Dad, and how my visions had told me he was trapped somewhere down here. I bowed low before the mighty Underwood god.

  "There is yet one thing I must ask of you, before we depart," I said.

  "Ah, yes. We do have a favor to ask of you. A small matter for one so powerful," said Emmett, wisely buttering Plouton up.

  "Anything!" Plouton spread his arms wide. "I am eternally in your debt."

  "I don't know about eternally, but just now, my protégée has misplaced her father somewhere in your realm. We humbly request your assistance in finding him," said Emmett.

  "Done!" roared Plouton, raising his beard high. He pointed to Percival and a pack of minions. "The father of this mortal is somewhere in my realm. Fetch him before me!"

  Percival scraped low, then leapt over to us, holding a sharp rock in one claw and his own pointed demon tail in another. "His name? And a description?" He licked the stone, poised to write.

  "Able d'Espers," I said. I described Dad as I'd seen him in my vision: his boots, coat, amulet, and dirty blond hair.

  "He was in a cel
l of red rock," I said.

  Percival scratched copious notes on his tail, then snapped to attention before the minions.

  "Another search! We must check every crevice, particularly those with red rock!" said Percival. With an anxious face, the shaggy black demon whispered to me, "Able d'Espers isn't mortal too, is he?"

  "No. He's a spirit," I said, frowning. I'd almost forgotten Dad was no longer alive. Then Emmett squeezed my hand. He wasn't alive either, but he met my eyes with a smile. I smiled back.

  A small shade floated before us, a shifty jumble of mist who squeaked sounds so high-pitched I couldn't understand her.

  "I see," said Percival, "No matter. Begin our search."

  The small shade spoke again, this time in an even higher, more urgent pitch. I covered my ears to block out the sound.

  "I said it is of no consequence!" shouted Percival at the shade. "We shall search regardless. Now get going. I want all available demons and shades searching immediately!" He stomped forward in a threatening manner and the minions bolted away—all but the small shade, who squeaked once more, then zipped off after the rest.

  "What did she say?" I asked.

  "It's nothing. She claims there's no red rock in all the Underwood. But these shades. They can be weak of senses, particularly sight. I assure you, we will find him," boasted Percival.

  "Certainly, we shall! And we consider it an honor to care for the brother of the All," said Plouton. "Who, if he belongs anywhere, certainly belongs here. Bellum, of course, can never leave. We shall work our arts upon him. He is in much need of correction and improvement."

  "Agreed and I thank you," said Emmett. He bowed to Plouton and I bowed with him.

  Teddy's cherub face warped like a melted doll's. "I deserve as much as Emmett! This shade pit will never hold me!"

  He strained against the demons ornamenting his body, dribbling clear ectoplasm from their many bites, but he could not shake them off. Finally, he fell still. His voice resonated up from his weakened, flickering form, "But I will play along, for now. Until I call again—or you call to me. The prophecy will see to that. Brother."