Glow of the Fireflies

by Lindsey Duga

  In that moment, I did want to tell her. About everything—Alder, Mom, the wisps, the ethereal plane, the spirit gates…

  But what if she didn’t believe me? I barely believed it myself. How could I prove it to her? I didn’t know if all humans could see spirits like I could. Was that part of what made me “special”? And what if she never looked at me the same way again?

  I couldn’t lose Izzie.

  I took a deep breath. “Thanks, Iz. I appreciate it.”

  …

  After making sure Gran had everything she needed for bed, I took a long hot shower and turned toward my attic bedroom, the one Gran was letting me use. Seeing the door at the top of the steps, another feeling of nostalgia crept up my back and squeezed my shoulders.

  Rolling them back to get rid of the strange sensation, I climbed the steps. As the stairs creaked underfoot, I remembered each sound so clearly that I must’ve gone up these at least a million times before.

  The attic wasn’t a “suburban attic” with boxes and insulation everywhere. Instead, it was a finished room with sloped ceilings and a braided rug on the wood floors. There was a twin bed in the corner with a bedside table and a reading lamp. A shelf with old toys and picture books huddled in the other corner, along with a dresser with an old mirror on top. I crossed to a window, pushed it open, and let the musty air out and the fresh air in. Although it was dark, thanks to the light of the moon and stars I could see beyond Gran’s garden. The same lake stretched from the shores of the nearest mountain all the way to a large meadow. Along its edges were more trees, more flowers—nature as far as the eye could see.

  The attic obviously hadn’t been used for some time. The entire room seemed to be covered in a thick layer of dust. It was so bad I was about to grab my inhaler from my bag, when I remembered I no longer needed it.

  I sat on my bed and the springs squeaked beneath me. Groaning, I collapsed sideways onto the pillow. As much as I didn’t want to sleep on a bed that was noisy, I knew I’d rather sleep up here than where Izzie was—in the bed of the woman who’d abandoned me and my dad.

  I doubted that I’d ever be able to fall asleep after everything that had happened, but as soon as I closed my eyes, I passed out.

  The couch cushions were well worn and loved. They were big fluffy things. I felt like I could get sucked into the cracks of the couch, like the remote control sometimes did, or loose change out of Dad’s pockets.

  I cuddled into the throw pillows, nuzzling my cheek against the soft tassels, and as I did, a strange smell tickled my nose. For a moment, I couldn’t place it. It smelled like a fireplace, or the stove after Mom left the bacon on too long.

  Burning.

  Tearing the pillow away from my face, I flung it against the wall, the whole thing smoking. The tassels that had once been against my face now burned, smoldering black and red like embers.

  The smell got stronger. I looked down—I really was sinking into the couch. But the cushions were burning, too.

  I wrenched my eyes open with a sharp gasp. The attic rafters, turned a hazy gold with the early morning sunlight, stared back down at me, reminding me where I was. Sighing, I scrubbed my hand over my face, trying to pull myself out of the remnants of the dream.

  Just a nightmare. I was used to them, but this one had been more detailed than ever before. My body felt heavy with sleep. As I began to lift myself on my elbows, yawning, I dropped my gaze—and found a fox sleeping on top of me.

  Chapter Nine

  “Holy shit!” I twisted and jerked, falling off the narrow twin bed with a thump, twisted in the covers. Meanwhile, the fox leaped gracefully to the floor.

  I clapped my hand over my mouth, listening for any sounds of movement downstairs from Izzie or Gran. Nothing. Apparently they hadn’t heard me. Hopefully they were still sleeping.

  The fox lazily blinked eyes that were dark emerald green, similar to the human version of Alder, and slanted, vixen-like, same as Mom’s and mine.

  But its body was see-through.

  It was a spirit. A large spirit fox had been sleeping on top of me.

  “It’s about time you woke up.”

  Luckily my hands were still over my mouth, because I let out another scream—this one muffled.

  The words had come from the fox. Its translucent body had glowed brighter as it tilted its head in the way that animals do.

  It talked.

  The fox arched its back like a cat and stretched. Then it yawned, its long pink tongue rolling out to reveal glistening white fangs.

  “Calm down, Briony. Weren’t you expecting me?”

  Once again, the voice clearly came from the fox, but his mouth hadn’t moved. Of course, I wasn’t sure if that would make the experience any less creepy.

  I tried to focus on what he had said. I was expecting… “Oh! You’re the emissary.”

  “Well done. How clever of you.”

  Great, he’d been blessed with sarcasm. “Excuse me for freaking out when I find a nature spirit using me for a bed,” I grumbled, ripping off my cocoon of covers, and then stood. “So you’re here to show me how to open the spirit gates?”

  The fox looped around me and headed for the attic door, his little spirit paws not making a sound as he padded across the rug. “Yes, so let’s get started.”

  I darted to cover the door to prevent the fox from going downstairs and scaring my grandmother into cardiac arrest. “Whoa, slow down there, Mr. Fox. I need to put on actual clothes first. I’ll meet you outside.”

  The fox huffed and shook his head. “Humans are such a bother. Hurry up. We don’t have much time before the solstice.”

  I was about to ask him just how long opening these gates would take, when he vanished entirely. His body had grown more and more translucent until it was gone altogether.

  Now alone in my attic bedroom, I rushed around, breathless, throwing on clothes and sneakers. I could hardly believe this was happening. Yesterday when I’d said I was going to open the gates, it already seemed like it had been a dream. But it hadn’t. Now I had a see-through fox telling me to hurry my ass up so we could get moving.

  As I was creeping down the steps, trying not to make a noise that would wake up Izzie or Gran, I thought about Alder and his offer to help me.

  As immensely curious as I was about him, his warnings weighed on me heavily. He said he wanted me to leave this valley. Who’s to say he wouldn’t try to thwart me somehow? If this fox showed me where to go, I could skip out on my meeting with Alder at my old house. I’d never said I’d meet him there anyway. He’d just told me to and assumed I would.

  After scribbling a quick note to Izzie that I was going back to my old house, I grabbed her keys and headed out the door, wincing at the slow creak of the screen door as it closed.

  I absolutely hated dodging and sneaking around my best friend, and I knew that this couldn’t be my solution forever, but as this fox had reminded me, I had so little time. The summer solstice was less than a week away and no one had yet shared how far these gates were away or how difficult they would be to open.

  The idea of leaving Izzie disappointed and hurt made my gut twist, so I promised myself that I would tell her as soon as I saw her again. So what if she looked at me like I was crazy? I had to take that chance. She was the closest friend I had, like a sister even.

  Moving through Gran’s garden toward Izzie’s car, I scanned the rhododendrons and black-eyed Susans and the rest of her overgrown weeds and flowers, looking for my new orange, green-eyed friend. “Psst. Mr. Fox? Where are you?” I hissed.

  After moving around the garden for far too long looking for him, I stomped over to the car and yanked the door open. Maybe I would have to rely on Alder after all.

  Scratch that.

  The fox was in the passenger seat.

  “Son of a—” I gasped, jumping back and bang
ing my hip against the open door. “You must stop that.”

  “Stop what?”

  I slid into the car, buckling my seat belt. “Forget it, just tell me where to go. Is there some magical rainbow highway that will take us to the spirit world?”

  “Just go north. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  North. As if everyone knew where north was. But even if there hadn’t been a compass on Izzie’s dashboard, I actually would’ve known. The sunrise was telling, how the sun was still working its way over the eastern mountain ridge to my left, but I could also just feel it. I didn’t know how.

  I shifted the car in reverse, did a three-point turn, and then started down the long gravel driveway, taking a left onto the highway.

  As we drove, the fox was silent and immobile. His green eyes were set on the moving forest, and his translucent body would sometimes get lost in a passing shadow.

  Unnerved, I decided I had to talk to him. If he wasn’t going to offer any information, I needed to ask as much as I could. “So my mom called you an emissary. What does that mean exactly?”

  “I’m your link to the spirit world. I’ll guide you on finding the gates and opening them.”

  “You mean like a spirit guide?”

  The fox huffed out a breath through his nose, fogging up the window glass. “Well, I am a spirit, and I am your guide, but I wouldn’t use that term. Putting aside that it can mean different things to different human cultures, it implies that I care about your spiritual well-being and the path your life is taking… I don’t.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “I’m here to ensure you open the gates. What happens afterward for you is not my concern.”

  Well, at least he was honest about it. “Okay, do you at least have a name that I can call you?”

  The fox turned away from the window to face me. “I have many names, as do most spirits, but you may call me Raysh. As for what I am, I am a projection of a spirit from the ethereal plane. My true body cannot exist in the physical plane.”

  Hence the see-through factor.

  “But Alder can walk in the physical plane and he’s a spirit,” I said. In fact, I recalled Alder had mentioned that he was the only spirit, apart from the wisps, that could walk in the physical plane. “So like…what’s his deal?” I asked, “How can he be here but other spirits can’t?”

  Raysh’s tail swished and his eyes narrowed, as if the mention of Alder was irritating.

  “That boy is an anchor to the planes of existence. Think of them as three leaves fluttering in the wind. Alone, they twist and twirl midair, apart from each other. But when on a branch, they are connected, and a bug can travel from one leaf to another. Alder is that branch.”

  “Okay, he’s a branch. Sure.” Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, I rubbed my temple, where a headache began to form. “So what’s in it for you? Why did you agree to be my emissary?”

  Raysh looked back out the window. “I’m almost as old as time itself. You cannot imagine the monotony of seeing the same things day after day. Being an emissary allows me to see a new world.” His voice felt heavier somehow, laced with longing.

  Sensing that was a delicate topic, I moved past it. “Can you tell me more about how these gates work? For example, how am I supposed to unlock one?”

  “Each gate is attached to an element of the physical world. The elements are the building blocks of the physical world, but they cannot exist without mana. So the gates are essentially pools of mana that make up the elements in the physical world. They serve as pillars to the astral realm.”

  “So how will opening them allow Mom to come home?”

  “Unlocking the gates merely allows the mana to flow freely. Humans can then pass through the barriers that would have otherwise been blocked off to them.”

  “But how did she get there in the first place?” I asked. “Did she go there on purpose? Did she leave and then just accidentally fall down a rabbit hole?”

  “Rabbit holes would be too big for humans.”

  Why would I have thought a spirit fox would get that reference? “No, I just meant, did she actually stumble upon it through some weird portal?”

  “You’d have to ask your mother. Stop here and turn.”

  Almost slamming on my brakes, I just barely managed to swerve down a side road. Hummingbird Road.

  Chills danced across my arms as I thought of Alder waiting for me there. “Hold up. Why are we going to my old house?”

  “We need the human spirit to assist you in opening the gates.”

  More chills. “You mean Alder. Why?”

  Raysh’s lips rippled back, baring his white teeth. “I don’t like it, either, girl, but we need him. He is a product of all three worlds, and since the gates are as well, they require his touch.”

  “So you’re saying I can’t open the gates without his help?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Mom said only I could unlock the gates.”

  “Yes.”

  Finally, I stopped the car entirely to turn and stare at the fox in my front seat. “Both of us have to?”

  “Yes.”

  I leaned back, trying to process this new information. I had to work with him to open the gates. Had to. There was no way this would go well. For one thing, Alder hadn’t been too thrilled about this whole quest. It seemed like the only reason he was coming was because he wanted to make sure I didn’t get myself lost or eaten by some spirit. For another, I didn’t even trust my classmate to write half of our science report, how the hell was I going to trust a tight-lipped, ethereal nature boy who kept telling me to get lost to do something he didn’t even want to do in the first place?

  “Where the hell is my house?” I exploded, slapping my palms on the dashboard. I couldn’t explain it. I’d been here just yesterday. I was already at the end of the road and I didn’t see a single gravel path to turn down.

  Raysh stood on his hind legs, placing his paws on the window. “We don’t need the house. Just him.”

  I looked to the right and, sure enough, Alder stood off the side of the road, under the shade of a large tulip tree, leaning against the trunk.

  As I parked Izzie’s CRV on the shoulder, I could see that he had reverted back to his more human-looking self. Gone were silver and gold, replaced with blond hair and eyes the color of the leaves he stood under.

  While I had been grilling Raysh, I had gone up and down the street twice, and the burned house was nowhere in sight. Had the bulldozers come early? Was my house already leveled, its rubble transported away? That fast?

  But then my gaze caught on a strip of white gravel running along the side of the road not far from where we were standing. The beginnings of a driveway. The only problem, of course, was that there was no driveway, just an entire wall of thick trees.

  Had he…? How…?

  Alder watched me carefully, clearly waiting for my reaction while I put two and two together. I opened my mouth and then closed it, pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth to prevent myself from saying anything I would regret.

  The truth was I wasn’t sure what to say or how to feel. I didn’t need to see it myself to know Alder had somehow caused an entire copse of trees to grow overnight. Obviously a nature spirit would be able to make plants grow, but a miniature forest? That was impressive. His trees now shielded my house from view—all to keep the bulldozers from finding it and tearing it down.

  At least, that felt like the only plausible explanation.

  Alder’s eyes narrowed at the fox sitting by my ankles. “The emissary, I take it?”

  I glanced down at Raysh, who didn’t seem thrilled to meet Alder either. Did spirits get along? “Um, yeah, this is Raysh. He said he can show us where the gates are.”

  Alder tore his gaze away from the fox to look at me, his brows lifting. “Us? So you do want me to com
e along?”

  My stomach flipped. “Well, apparently, I need your help to be able to open them.”

  Alder tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “How’s that?”

  “Good question,” I muttered.

  Like Alder had said last night, he really didn’t know much about the gates, including, apparently, the fact that I needed his help to unlock them in the first place. He’d offered his help last night purely on an I don’t want you to do this alone mentality.

  Nice of him, but unnecessary. I’d rather trust myself to do something than trust a total stranger.

  Only now it looked like I was forced to work with not one, but two strangers.

  I turned to the fox. “You want to walk us through how this is supposed to work, O furry one?”

  “A gate can only be opened by bringing its key into the physical world.”

  I folded my arms. This endeavor seemed to get more daunting by the minute. “No one mentioned a key.”

  Raysh shot me an annoyed look. “All gates have keys. Unfortunately, the key cannot be stolen by a spirit.”

  “Why not?”

  “The guardians that hold the keys are powerful, ancient beings. Stealing from one of them is taboo for a spirit, and besides, we are bound to the elements they control. So only you can get the key, Briony.”

  I folded my arms. “Then why do I need Alder?”

  “Bringing the key to the physical world is only part of the process of unlocking the gate. It must also be combined with the mana of its element. Alder is the only one able to infuse the key with enough mana to unlock the gate.”

  I imagined opening an old treasure chest under a giant tree, and then a little victory tune went off as I pulled out an old-fashioned brass key and held it up over my head—like in one of those old video games that Izzie’s older brother played. It was what had come to mind, but truthfully, I didn’t know what to expect. I glanced at Alder to gauge his reaction.

  He was already staring at me with an unreadable expression. “You need me to help you, but you don’t want me to.”

  My cheeks burned for some reason, because it wasn’t that I didn’t… My history with Alder had to be the definition of complicated. That feeling that I kept having whenever he’d touch my arm or hand, or even being in the same presence as me? It wasn’t just nostalgia. It was loss. I’d lost something very dear when I’d forgotten this boy in front of me.