“I beg your pardon?” I said, pulling myself up.
“You heard me,” Harry said dismissively and looked over at Seth. “You don’t feel it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are referring to,” he said apologetically.
“Could be nothing…” Harry muttered and turned his beady eyes back to me. “You there.”
“My name is Nai,” I said shortly.
“You there, Nai,” he continued with a puff of exasperation. “What did you feel when you stuck your hand in the holy water?”
“Um, water? A wet hand?”
“Don’t sass me, young lady. What else. Did it hurt? Did you feel a surge of energy?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I mean I can sense the energy coming off of it, but it did nothing to me.”
“You then, boy,” He pointed his finger at Jem, who shrank visibly. “What do you see?”
“Um, it’s holy water…” Jem stammered. “I can feel the energy too.”
“Stick your hand in it,” Harry commanded.
“Um, okay,” Jem reached out and dunked his hand in the basin. “What the heck?”
I leaned forward, we all did. When Jem put his hand in, the water jumped away, as if repulsed by him.
“Wow, Jem,” I quipped. “What dark secrets do you have?”
“W-what? N-nothing!” he spluttered, looking more scared than I had ever seen him. “What’s happening?”
“I’m not quite sure,” Seth said with a frown, turning to Desmond, who shook his head, indicating that he had no idea either.
“What was supposed to happen?” I asked, a little nervous, though I’d never admit it.
“You should have felt the energy, but also a repulsion,” Desmond said. “Jem should have felt a calming effect. A typical Guardian would have felt neutral power as Guardians do not wield holy weapons.”
Well that was interesting. Instead of repulsion, I was drawn to the energy that the holy water was giving off. I was going to ask if that meant I could wield a holy weapon, but thought better of it when a plan began to form in the back of my brain.
“Whatever,” I shrugged. “We aren’t here to talk about how weird Jem and I are, are we?”
“Weird don’t begin to cover it, Missy,” Harry said, still eyeing me like I was going to spontaneously burst into flames or pull a knife on him or something. “Can’t say that I know for sure, but I reckon something more than divine intervention had a hand in splitting the soul.” Seth looked like he was going to say something, but Harry pressed on. “But that ain’t none of my business. What was the urgent matter you wanted my help with?” he asked Seth.
“We have reason to believe that there is a wraith in the area,” Seth explained, still looking like he wanted to say something about Jem and I’s souls.
“A wraith?” Harry looked confused. “I ain’t never heard of one of those.”
Seth explained what a wraith was and why he thought there was one in Blackbird. When he was done, Harry shook his head.
“I’m not sure a normal exorcism is going to work, even if you find the host.”
“Why is that?” Desmond asked. “Doesn’t the church have artifacts that can be used as a vessel to hold the Discordant?”
“The Catholic Church does, yes, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to go to Rome if you want that kind of help.”
“I don’t understand,” said Seth. “We’ve used vessels from this church in the past.”
“The type of demon you’re describing ain’t gonna be held by the type of artifacts we have at our disposal. Not even wood of the cross is strong enough.”
I raised my eyebrows. Wood of the cross, from everything I read, was a powerful artifact that was used to kill all types of Discordant. It wasn’t actual wood from the cross that was used to crucify Jesus, but that was what it symbolized. It was wood that had soaked up the blood of a martyr. Still, it was as rare as it was morbid, so if this church had it, I was actually impressed, and wondered how I could get my hands on some.
Seth and Desmond both paled for some reason.
“I see,” Desmond said with a sigh. “For everyone’s sake, I do hope you are incorrect, though it is not likely.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, wondering if anyone was going to let us in on what just ruined their day.
“Harry is implying that we need a corpus vessel,” Desmond explained.
“Corpus,” I said, remembering the word from dad’s research. “That means body.”
“You mean we have to do a human sacrifice?” Jem asked, horrified.
“No,” Seth assured him. “A corpus vessel is an artifact that was once part of a living being, usually a saint, a pure soul, or someone who led an otherwise pious life.”
“Typically, the heart is required,” Desmond added, “but there have been noted exceptions.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jem moaned. I, however, was fascinated.
“You mean the Preservation Knights are real?” I asked. Father had once told me about a secret society who went around collecting and preserving the hearts of important historical figures. Of course, he told me that this was just a story and most likely grave robbers were the ones responsible for the desecrations. Harry narrowed his eyes at me.
“Now how would you know about that?” he asked, adding, “For the record, it’s not Preservation, it’s Resurrection. The Resurrection Knights of the Holy Roman Empire.”
“Father was an historian,” I explained, feeling indignant for some reason. By the way Harry was now staring at me, you would have thought I had told him that pickling hearts was my favorite past time. “Other kids were read Goodnight Moon, we got myths and legends as our bedtime stories.”
“What? Mom always read me Goodnight Moon,” Jem protested.
“Well weren’t you the lucky one?” I shot back. Of course, Jem got the normal childhood. I was the weird one. “So what makes the heart so important?” I asked, turning back to Harry.
“Symbolically, the heart is the source of human conflict,” he answered. “A true exorcism ain’t like the movies. The demon won’t leave just because a religious figure commands it to do so. It needs to be lured out of the body and into a vessel. With common possessions, we can do this with a non-living relic that has been energized by the power of the Holy Spirit. A seeder demon, the likes of which you described, ain’t gonna be fooled by any old relic. It feeds on conflict and conflict is a human creation.”
“What if we get it to possess one of us instead?” Jem asked. I gave him an odd look. That was kind of a morbid thought, even for Jem.
“Are you volunteering to have your heart thrown into the holy flame for the good of man?” Harry asked him. “I thought ol’ Seth here was the martyr.”
“Sorry, I’ve already had my heart eaten by a fledgling succubus once. I’m afraid that’s an experience I don’t want to relive,” Seth said flippantly, but paled when he saw the look of alarm on Desmond’s face. “Relax,” he said to the Warrior. “I’m trying to have a sense of humor about it. Look, no one is going to give up their heart or their life for that matter. We don’t even know who the host is.”
“About that,” Desmond said to Harry, but kept a wary eye on Seth. “Do you have any thoughts on how we might proceed in looking for the host?”
“I’m afraid not,” Harry said with a sigh. “A seeder can’t sustain a host in a balanced state for very long. I suppose this wraith might have a little more time as it has to jump to claim another soul, but of that, I ain’t certain. Although…” He trailed off in thought. After a moment, he lumbered back toward the doors. “Come out to the tool shed. I got something that might could help.”
We followed the caretaker around to the back of the church, past the rectory, and into a small plastic shed that smelled of fertilizer and motor oil. Harry reached for a small, ornately carved wooden chest that looked out of place next to the hedge trimmers, chicken wire, and other gardening tools. He pulled out a small
velvet bag. From that, he extracted four golden leaves, which he handed to each of us. Desmond seemed pleased by this, but Seth was just as confused as Jem and I were.
“Golden shade,” he said as if that explained everything. When it was clear it didn’t, he continued. “Wear it somewhere visible. If a Discordant is masking its presence, the leaves turn purple.”
“Cool,” Jem whispered. I had to admit, it was kind of cool. Now I had another tool I could use to find the wraith before anyone else did.
Seth thanked Harry and led us back around to the front of the church. As we were saying goodbye, I looked around and then up at Seth.
“My purse. I must have left it inside. Be right back,” I said and dashed into the building.
Sitting in the last pew, next to the basin of holy water, was my purse, where I had deliberately left it earlier. I slipped it around my neck and fished around until I came up with the small plastic water bottle I had drained earlier, silently thanking Seth for making me keep it to recycle later instead of tossing it in the sidewalk trash bin. I dunked it in the basin, filling it with as much of the holy water as I could get. Wiping the sides down with a tissue, I stuffed it in my purse and rejoined the others for the eighty-mile hike back home.
Once we finally got back, I claimed that all of the walking exhausted me and went up to my room. It wasn’t even a lie. Coming down wasn’t as difficult as going up the hill, but it still winded me and I was disgustingly sweaty. But instead of lying down, I ducked through my small closet and up the stairs into the attic. I took the bottle of holy water out of my bag and set it gingerly on the old workbench, careful not to let it touch the other items I had collected. Satisfied that I had everything I needed, I dug out my phone and pulled up the page I had bookmarked earlier. Checking to make sure no one was going to come looking for me, I got to work. It was time to try my hand at another skill that was supposedly out of my league as a Guardian.
* * *
As was now our routine, Jem and I went over to Louie’s Diner around ten. Since Desmond still wouldn’t let us hang out in the bar, Seth thought it would be a good idea to have us stationed close by and Louie’s was a safe place that didn’t mind our loitering. If he encountered a lost soul, Seth would hit them with enough influence to send them our way. So far, it wasn’t too bad and nothing at all like the insanity at school. This one night there were three lost souls, but usually we got one or even none. Jem used the time to catch up on homework (that I would copy) and I continued my research on the Discordant.
“Can we get fat?” I asked, staring down at my plate of gravy soaked and cheese covered French fries.
Jem looked up from his notebook with a puzzled expression. “Why would you want to get fat?”
“I didn’t ask permission, idiot. I was wondering if it is possible for us to get fat,” I clarified for the sake of my dense brother. Honestly, I had no idea how he got good grades when he was incapable of the most basic comprehension skills. “We can’t die and our physical age is fluid or something, so what does that mean for our health?”
“I don’t know,” Jem said with a frown. “I guess it’s possible, but you’ve never been fat, so why do you care?”
“Because, Jem, we eat like shit,” I said, gesturing to the table full of greasy and starchy foods. “How many calories do you think this is?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask them,” Jem said and waved to the front of the diner where Seth and Desmond had just walked in, followed by one of the hippies. It was Donna. I tried to be nice to her because if she hadn’t taken over, Seth would never have finished my bathroom, but she was still a new age hippie weirdo and honestly, she could be kind of gross sometimes.
“Ask us what?” Seth said as he came over to our table.
“Will we get fat from eating this crap?” I asked.
“Likely,” he said, but held up his hand when he saw my horrified expression. “I mean, it’s more complicated than that. Your weight is like your age, it will change naturally to suit your environment. Your metabolism won’t change drastically, but you might consider a salad now and then or just some routine exercise.”
“Or maybe we could all take some cooking classes,” Jem added, but immediately started blushing. “I mean… not that…”
“I can teach you,” Donna said, sitting down and helping herself to one of my fries, which earned her a death glare.
“Really?” Jem’s eyes lit up almost as bright as his cheeks. He had a major boner for the witches, especially Donna.
“What is this?” Desmond asked, picking up the list I had been making before their arrival.
“A list of common artifacts that are both readily available and effective against demons.”
His eyes narrowed at me. “And why would you be making a list like this?”
I rolled my eyes back at him. “It’s for you, not me, so don’t get your knickers in a twist.” It was now my turn to be on the receiving end of the death glare. “Look, by the end of next week, I’ll have racked up enough detentions that you’ll have to come down to meet with Mr. Marsden. When you do, bring one of these and un-possess the guy.”
“So Gary Indiana went and got himself possessed?” Donna asked, rolling her eyes. “Not surprising. That guy was a piece of work. I’m surprised the school still puts up with his nonsense.”
“Gary Indiana?” Jem asked. “Our counselor is Gary Marsden.”
“We called him that because he thought he was Indiana Jones, but he was really a hot mess,” she explained. “He was obsessed with archeology, but clearly knew nothing about it. He used to have all of these rocks in his office that he’d found on his ‘exploratory missions’ that he claimed were fossils or ancient relics. None of us had the heart to tell him that even as high schoolers, we knew they were just rocks. That’s probably why he went missing. He probably found an old milk bottle that he mistook for the Holy Grail and hit his head.”
“Or he happened to stumble across a real relic,” Desmond said with a frown.
“In Oklahoma?” Donna asked flatly. I had to agree with the hippie. Our father had been an amateur archeologist and he went to places like Greece and Turkey to find important relics. “Nah, it’s more likely something local got him.”
“It’s quite possible,” Desmond said. “There are mountains in Oklahoma.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. There were mountains everywhere.
“Mountainous areas tend to be less populated and have been a big draw for mystic communities throughout history. Mountains are also mined frequently for minerals and mining has been known to cause some of the biggest breaches into the realm of Chaos. It’s possible that Gary Marsden either stumbled into the remnants of a mystic community or had an unfortunate run in with a Discordant led cult. However, the latter would not be likely to return him alive.”
“Unless…” Seth began, but cut off with a shudder. When all eyes turned to him, he went red. “It’s, um… it’s possible that his soul was destroyed. He could be a servant of Chaos,” he said quietly.
“How is that even possible?” Jem asked.
“It’s possible,” Desmond said, but he was looking at Seth with a strange, almost scared expression that piqued my curiosity. “But I don’t think that is the case here. I’m not even sure if the soulless can enter the realm of Order.”
“Who cares where he was possessed or why?” I asked, breaking up the meeting of the cryptic eye-contact club. “What can it hurt to try? You have the golden shade and you can easily get any of these,” I added, indicating the list.
“Fair enough,” Desmond sighed, but added sternly, “But once this is over, I don’t want to receive any more phone calls from the office. I don’t get enough sleep as it is.”
“I’ll do what I can,” I said, smiling tightly. Desmond returned my smile with one that might have been tighter.
“That, my dear, is what I am afraid of.”
Chapter 6
Spiritual
Squatter
When the phone call came, I wasn’t surprised. Even before Nai had informed me of her intentions, I knew it was only a matter of time before the school would want to address her behavioral issues. It was, of course, a means to an end. By meeting with the guidance counselor, I would now be able to put to rest the teens’ speculations, so that we may all move on to the real reason any of us were here. If anything, I should have been relieved that she chose this route instead of taking matters into her own hands as I had worried she would. Despite knowing that Nai was not entirely to blame for who she was, I found her unconventional methods to be nerve wracking at best.
“Desmond, are you allowed to kill someone who isn’t a Discordant?” she had asked me early last evening as she sat in the living room, pretending to study, but failing to realize that I could see what she was actually working on.
“Of course not, Nai. Why would you ask me this?”
“Just thinking out loud here, but if you killed Mr. Marsden, you would destroy the demon possessing him and save a whole bunch of souls who are otherwise going to be lost to the Discordant.”
She had suggested this casually, as if she had suggested pizza for dinner. Were that the most disturbing thing I had heard out of this child, it would have been bad enough, but this was an everyday occurrence. I’d worked with a split-soul Guardian pair in the past, but that was very different. For one thing, Elle and Mel were adults and well out of their surly years when they became Guardians, and for another, they had been Guardians for several decades before I met them, so their souls were beginning to balance. Nothing about that situation had been able to prepare me for working with these two. Jem was annoying, but so was Bogie. Annoying I could handle. Nai, on the other hand, was just a bit too eager to prove she was not only the embodiment of evil, but better suited to do my job than I was. That too was annoying, but also dangerous.
“Taking a life without a damned good reason is grounds for a trial at least, but more often, results in immediate retirement of the soul,” I informed her with a shudder of revulsion.
Rise of the Discordant: The Complete Five Book Series Page 25