"Said the ghost," Sydney said sarcastically.
Cooper and Sydney may have looked alike, with their dark hair and blue eyes, but their polar opposite styles usually put them at each other's throats. Coop's death did nothing to change that. Though Cooper was a spirit, Marsh looked more like the sore thumb with his blond hair and brown eyes.
The three were in the living room of Marsh's house in the suburban town of Stony Brook, Connecticut. It was a home that had always been so comfortable. So normal. It was a safe haven for Marsh until a malevolent spirit had turned it into a house of horrors.
"This is a no-brainer," Coop declared. "There's one crucible and two of you, so just stay together. You're practically joined at the hip anyway."
"You don't . . . watch us, do you?" Sydney asked with disgust.
"Give me a break," Cooper shot back. "Like I don't have enough to deal with."
"That's not practical," Marsh said, and held out the golden ball to Sydney. "When we're together, we'll be fine. When we're apart, Sydney keeps it."
"But I won't," Sydney argued.
"Give it to me," Cooper ordered, and tried to grab it, but his hand traveled through Marsh's like a beam of light passing through a solid object.
"Damn," he said in frustration. "Can this get any older?"
Marsh and Sydney were the only two beings in the Light who could see Cooper. To them he appeared the same as any other person, though he was anything but.
"Forget the crucible," Sydney exclaimed as she pulled Marsh toward the couch. "It can't protect either of us forever. This is about Damon."
"Agreed," Marsh said.
The two sat close to each other. Sydney kept a firm grip on Marsh's hand out of affection . . . and for security. Her nerves were still frayed.
"I'm way ahead of the curve on this," Coop declared. "I'll handle Damon."
"That gives me exactly zero confidence," Sydney said coldly.
"Let's hear what he has to say," Marsh offered.
Sydney bit her tongue and forced a smile.
"Okay, Mr. Afterlife," she said to Cooper. "How exactly are you going to 'handle' Damon?"
Cooper had already shared with them the entire story of his adventures with Damon in the Black. There were no secrets between them.
"First I have to find him," Cooper began. "I have no idea where he is."
"So much for being ahead of the curve," Sydney said.
Coop ignored her and continued, "I haven't seen him since his army was sucked into the Blood, but I've seen the damage he's caused since. The guy wants revenge. On me. That much is obvious from the way he busted up my vision in the Black."
"How did he do that if his army was sent to the Blood?" Marsh asked.
"I don't know," Coop admitted. "And I don't know what happened to the spirits who were with me . . . my grandfather, Maggie Salinger, Zoe, and—"
"And my mother," Marsh said.
"Yeah. They're just . . . gone. Damon must be responsible, but as to where they are . . . your guess is as good as mine."
Sydney suggested, "Maybe he took them to his own vision."
"Okay, I lied. Your guess isn't as good as mine," Cooper said curtly. "I told you, his vision doesn't exist anymore. The Watchers took it from him. Damon's flying loose somewhere."
"Maybe they all moved on to the next life," Marsh offered hopefully. "You know, the place you go after the Black?"
Coop squinted at him. "Do you really think that happened?"
Marsh thought for a moment. "No."
Coop said, "I think Damon knows exactly where they are so he can use them to get what he wants."
"The poleax," Sydney declared.
"Yeah, the poleax," Coop confirmed. "For that he needs you, Ralph."
"But I don't know where his sword is!" Marsh declared with frustration.
"Maybe not, but he thinks you can find it."
"That's insane," Marsh grumbled.
Sydney asked, "And what happens if Damon gets it?"
Coop took a tired breath and turned serious. "The guy has something to prove. He feels as though he was never given his due as a general in Alexander's army and wants a second chance."
"To do what?" Sydney asked. "When did he fight for Alexander? Two thousand years ago?"
"Doesn't matter," Coop said quickly. "Time has no meaning in the Black. You can find spirits who lived yesterday or centuries ago. For all I know, Alexander himself is still floating around someplace and Damon wants to show him what a bad little soldier-boy he can really be."
"But why does he need that sword to prove that?" Marsh asked.
"That weapon holds the spiritual power of all those he killed in life. He can use it to tear open another Rift between the Light and the Black. Between the living and the dead. The Black is a very real place, but the spirits are . . . spirits. Not flesh and blood. I think for Damon to prove himself as a warrior, he'll have to do it here in the Light against living soldiers."
"So he wants to tear open a new Rift, come into the Light, and start a war?" Sydney asked. "Won't he be, like, two thousand years out of his league?"
"I don't know, Sydney," Coop said impatiently. "Maybe he'll get his ass kicked, but that's not the point. Can you imagine if a doorway was created between two worlds so that spirits could come back to reclaim their lives? There are millions of spirits in the Black. Billions. What would happen if the dam opened up and the Light was overrun by its own history?"
The three fell silent, imagining the possibility.
Marsh finally said, "Armageddon."
"Something like that," Coop agreed. "That's why the Watchers gave me the ability to be seen by you guys. My being here is totally against the way things work, but it seems like it's fallen on us to stop Damon."
Marsh said, "Because I'm the one he's coming after to find the poleax."
"And he killed me to get to you," Coop added. "Let's not forget that."
Sydney asked, "Why don't the Watchers stop him?"
"I think the only thing they can do is send him to the Blood, but that's the last thing they want because it'll put Damon back together with his army. No, they want Damon destroyed, and I don't think they have that ability."
"And we do?" Sydney asked.
"Not 'we.' Me. I'm a spirit. I can move through the Black and use one of those spirit-killing swords on that bastard. That's how this is going to end. It's the only way it can end."
"So what are we supposed to do?" Sydney asked.
"Nothing," Cooper answered quickly. "I mean it. Nothing. Stay together and keep the crucible with you. As long as you two have that thing, Damon is powerless over you."
"No," Marsh said flatly.
Cooper shot him a quick, surprised look. "What do you mean 'no'? I told you—"
Marsh stood up to face his friend. "I heard what you said, Coop. I get it. But I'm not going to sit around doing nothing. None of this would have happened if my mother hadn't gone digging around under that temple and destroyed the first crucible."
"So what?" Coop shot back. "This is serious, Ralph. We're not playing army."
"Do you really think I'm playing?"
"No, I don't," Coop said, backing down. "But I mean, c'mon, you're in way over your head."
"I'll be the judge of that," Marsh said quickly.
Coop walked away from Marsh, his mind racing, trying to come up with the right thing to say.
"Look," he said sharply. "I may be a spirit but I can't be hunting for Damon in the Black and babysitting you at the same time."
"I don't need a babysitter," Marsh said, bristling.
"No? How many times did I bail your butt out when Damon was coming after you?"
"This is as much my battle as it is yours," Marsh said through gritted teeth. "You may think I'm still a little kid that you have to coax into trusting himself, but things have changed."
"I'm sorry, Marsh," Cooper said, softening. "I know you've been through a lot and you aren't the same guy you were before and blah, blah
, blah, but this is way more important than you trying to prove something to yourself."
"Do not put me in the same category as Damon," Marsh snapped.
"That's not what I meant—"
"I don't care what you meant. I'm telling you that I'm going to do what I can to make this right. You're just running around like you always do, thinking you can handle anything. Well, you can't. Damon got you. He killed you, remember? You're in as far over your head as I am. The only difference is that you won't admit it."
The two stood toe-to-toe, neither backing down. "Okay, Ralph," Coop said coldly. "I'm going to the Black to track down and kill a demon. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find Ennis Mobley," Marsh said with authority.
"Why?" Coop asked with surprise.
"You haven't thought of everything, Coop. You never do. There were six crucibles. One was broken in Damon's tomb when my mother and Ennis found it. The second one I broke. Your grandfather broke the third in the Black. The fourth I've got right here, and the fifth is protecting the poleax, which is why Damon can't find it himself. That leaves one more. If these things have as much power over Damon as you say, I think we should try to find it, and who has a better chance of knowing where it is than the guy who found them all in the first place?"
Coop started to argue, but held back.
Sydney smiled. "He's got you there, spirit boy."
"All right," Coop said. "Go for it. But stay close to my sister. And keep that crucible with you. I don't want to have to come back here to save either of you. Again."
"Just worry about yourself," Marsh said coldly.
A colorful, swirling mist appeared behind Cooper. "What I'm worried about is ending this, and there's only one way that can happen. Damon has to be destroyed."
"So stop talking and find him," Sydney called out. Cooper took a step backward and disappeared into the mist.
Marsh and Sydney stared wide-eyed at the colorful cloud as it quickly vanished.
"Well," Sydney said with a sigh. "That went well."
"Here," Marsh said, holding out the crucible.
Sydney pushed his hand aside and wrapped her arms around his neck. Marsh hugged her close.
"You know the strangest part?" she asked.
"There's more?" Marsh asked with mock surprise.
Sydney chuckled. "Something good has actually come out of this."
"Enlighten me. Please."
"If none of this had happened, I'd still think you were a geek."
Marsh smiled.
"Actually," Sydney added. "I still think you're a geek, but now you're my geek."
"Good . . . I think."
"I love the way you're stepping up," she said, turning serious. "But I also know how scared you are."
Marsh shrugged but didn't disagree.
"We're in this together, Seaver," Sydney said. "I have no idea how this will play out but there's one thing I'm sure of: If my brother is going to finish Damon, then somewhere, somehow, he's going to need your help . . . and you're going to need mine."
She leaned forward and the two kissed.
Marsh held her close, enjoying the last few seconds of sanity before their lives would, once again, be turned inside out.
3
In spite of his bold promises, Cooper had no idea where to begin his quest.
Though he had all of time and history at his disposal, he felt as if he had to work fast. Damon was a brilliant tactician and Coop had no doubt that he had already formed a plan. The fact that he had resurfaced and gone after Sydney proved it. Damon was very much back in business. In desperation Coop began by trying to track down the spirits that had disappeared. He had no doubt that they would somehow factor into Damon's plan, and finding them was crucial.
He first went to the vision of Marsh's mother, Ree Seaver, the spiritual leader of the Guardians of the Rift. From Marsh's house in the Light he stepped through the veil between lives, between the Light and the Black, and entered Grand Central Terminal. Or what was left of it after the battle between Damon's soldiers and the Guardians. Nothing had changed since he was there last. The vision of the 1970s' version of the train terminal was a wreck. A bombed-out war zone. The train engine that had jumped the track and crashed into the passenger concourse still stood amid the rubble of crushed granite and cement. The entrance to the building was destroyed. The vintage army tank that had caused so much damage still stood where it had fired on the Guardians during the battle. There was an eerie quiet that made the tumultuous scene appear that much more impossible.
Coop walked to the center of the promenade, kicking through the remains of the pulverized information booth, to confirm that the Rift into the Light that Damon had cut centuries before was indeed no longer there. Seeing the empty floor where the Rift once existed was the only visible proof of the Guardian's victory.
As he stood in the center of that cavernous building, he was overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness. Ree was gone. The Guardians were gone. It was a dead, abandoned vision. As forlorn a feeling as that was, the fact that it still existed gave him hope. If her vision was there he felt certain that Ree's spirit still existed in the Black. Somewhere.
Cooper descended the stairs to the subway tracks beneath the terminal where Ree's private rail car stood. Empty. There was nothing there to give him any ideas about where else to search for her. He thought of walking to the warehouse where the Guardians had first captured him and Maggie, but knew what he would find there. Nothing. Wherever Ree Seaver was, it wasn't in her own vision.
He thought of Zoe, the daughter of Adeipho, Damon's enemy. With one step he left the train car and stepped onto a rocky beach on the shore of a calm ocean. The air was warm, the sky brilliant blue, and the sun hot and welcoming. He turned to see that he was in an ancient fishing village somewhere in Greece. Coop figured it had to be the vision of where Zoe lived in the Light when Adeipho fought alongside Damon a few centuries before the year zero. It wasn't much more than a collection of crudely constructed huts surrounded by palm trees. The tranquil beach was scattered with small wooden boats and jumbles of fishing nets.
What Coop didn't see . . . was people. Like Grand Central, this vision was empty. As much as his curiosity tempted him to explore the village, Coop didn't know enough about Zoe to know what clues to look for that might help him find her. Instead he thought of his grandfather.
With one step he was back in the familiar front yard of Eugene Foley. It was a cool fall day, just like always. The autumn-colored trees swayed in a slight breeze. The scene wasn't as eerie as the others, for Gramps didn't normally have other people populating his vision. His white farmhouse and tomato garden looked as inviting and normal as always . . . except that Gramps wasn't there. Coop was about to walk up to the house, when he glanced to the house next door. Maggie's house. He turned and headed for it, vaulting over the split rail fence that separated the two properties.
When he came down on the other side, he had made the transition from his grandfather's vision to Maggie's. The sky had grown darker and the season had made the transformation from fall to early winter. The colorful leaves were gone and a chilly wind rustled Coop's hair as he stood between Maggie's house and the barn where her parents had died.
"Hey!" he yelled, not expecting an answer.
It struck him that since he had communicated with the Watcher in Damon's lost vision, he hadn't seen any other Watcher in the Black. Anywhere. He didn't expect them to be observing empty visions, but he had hoped they were still looking out for him. He glanced around, wishing he would see one of the dark-clad figures standing in the distance in their usual pose, silently observing.
Nobody was there. They had asked for his help and then left him on his own.
Coop strode toward Maggie's house, not at all sure what it was he was looking for. Damon had done something with these spirits, of that he was sure. Was it for revenge? Or part of a devious plan for a counterattack? The sickening truth was, it was probably both.
/> Coop was about to climb the stairs that led to Maggie's porch, when his foot crunched on something that sounded like broken glass. He lifted his shoe to see the remains of the vessel that had once contained the blood of Alexander the Great. It was one of the six crucibles that were created by ancient priests upon Alexander's death as a curse to keep Damon from coming back through the Rift. The crucibles had done their job for a few thousand years.
Cooper knelt down and picked up one of the larger pieces. It was all that was left of the crucible that had protected the Rift in Ree's vision. He and Maggie had stolen it to try and force the Guardians into a battle with Damon and his soldiers. Instead Coop's plan backfired and Damon demanded that he break it or he would kill Marsh and Sydney. Coop would have smashed it to save his sister and best friend, but never got the chance. His grandfather had taken that difficult decision away and broken it himself . . . right there in front of Maggie's house.
Coop examined a sharp piece of golden glass. It had a streak of blood inside that had already dried to a dark brown. It was a gruesome artifact . . . that reminded him of another grisly relic. Thousands of years before, in their final battle in the Light, Damon had severed Adeipho's ear and kept the flesh as a barbaric memento. Damon had given the ghastly artifact to Cooper, telling him that it had a strong connection with Adeipho (obviously) and by using it Coop would be able to track down Adeipho's spirit.
The crucible had a strong connection with Damon. It had been one of the items that had cursed him for centuries. Was it possible? Would the connection between Damon and the crucible be strong enough to track him down? Coop clutched the glass, feeling the sharp edges digging into his palm. He closed his eyes and thought of Damon, his two sharp teeth and his malevolent laugh. Without opening his eyes he stood up and took a step.
The air grew instantly colder and the sky went dark. Cooper opened his eyes to see that he had arrived in another vision. One he had never been to and wasn't familiar with.
He couldn't help but smile. The hunt was on.
He stuck the glass shard into his jeans pocket and made a slow turn to see that he was in a dense pine forest. A sharp wind blasted through the trees, whipping the branches about and kicking up leaves that danced through the air. The sky was clear and the moon was full, which made it easy to see. The challenge was to know which way to go and what to look for. He wasn't about to shout out: "Hello? Damon? Ready or not, here I come!"
Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood Page 2