“Joseph!” he gasped.
“What’s going on?” I breathed. It was an odd feeling being underwater, and not having to worry about opening my eyes or even breathing. I could talk the same as I could when I was above the surface.
“We’re doomed!” Chantel sobbed.
“What?”
“The light came for us on the mountain,” Nolan began, his face lined with devastation. “But it was not the light we expected. It did not take us to the other side. It brought us to this hell instead.”
“Of course, this is not actually Hell,” a rasping voice spoke behind us. I whirled around to see the ghost of an elderly woman, crouched in a corner, just a few feet away from us. Her form was humanoid, though she did not look quite like a human, nor a vampire. I wondered what she was.
Momentarily forgetting about Chantel and Nolan, I asked her, “Then what is this place?”
She blew out a sigh. “The Underworld. Also known as the realm of the ghouls.”
The realm of the ghouls.
“But… how?” I stammered. “Why? Who were those glowing beings?”
“It’s all a hoax,” the old woman murmured. “Whatever those fae told you, it’s a pack of lies.”
My jaw couldn’t drop any lower. “Fae?”
“Yes, fae,” she replied. “You wouldn’t have seen one before, not if you’ve never traveled beyond the walls of a portal.”
“What are fae?”
“Elemental spirits who inhabit the ether in between dimensions. They captured all the ghosts in this pool.”
I was still wrapping my mind around ghouls—my mother and father had told me about an experience they had with one on the island that had caused utter havoc, even killed two of The Shade’s residents, though I’d never seen one in the flesh before, so to speak. And now… fae? There was a lot more I could’ve asked her about the “fae”, but at the forefront of my mind was the question:
“Why? Why would they bring us here?”
The elderly ghost shifted from her position and moved closer to me. “Almost five decades ago now, the fae made a pact with the ghouls. At the time, the realm of the fae was in chaos as they fought to overturn their monarchy. A group of insurgents struck a deal with the ghouls to further their cause. The ghouls would help them fight a war in their realm to overturn the current rulers, and in exchange, the fae would agree to serve them by supplying a constant flow of ghosts for the next fifty years.… In fact, I believe the time is almost up.” She eyed me bitterly. “You’re unlucky to be caught within the catchment date.”
I gaped at her. “Why do ghouls want ghosts anyway? They can’t eat them. What use are they to them?”
The woman’s eyes darkened. “Ghouls live for death, reveling in all things morbid and macabre… in case you hadn’t noticed their rather singular taste in decoration. They are known by some as grave robbers, by others as collectors; they are hoarders of all things relating to death. And ghosts… we are like trophies to them.” She paused, eyeing the ghost-infested water surrounding us. “They keep us here, like ornamental fish.”
It took a moment to find my voice again.
“How long have you been here?” I dared ask.
“Not long compared to some others in this hell hole, but… long enough to have gleaned some of the evils of this place. No ghost in this particular pool has been here for more than a few months. I was captured about three months ago, and when I arrived along with a group of other ghosts, this pool was completely empty.”
“You were also captured by the fae?” I asked.
She looked almost embarrassed to admit it. “I too had fallen for the myth of the light in the portal that would lead one to the other side—a lie spread by the fae among the ghost community to ensure they have a constant, easy supply of them.”
Wow. The extent of the deception was staggering. I wondered how they had initially planted the lie. I guessed that would have been the hardest part, because once the rumor started spreading, desperate ghosts would latch onto the hopeful fable… just like Chantel and Nolan. They were willing to suspend disbelief for any far-fetched story, simply because they’d been at the end of their tether and saw no other way out of their miserable half-existence.
“And what about the other pools? There are loads in this place.”
“I do not know if all of them were caught by fae,” the elderly woman replied. “Some could have been collected by the ghouls themselves—I suspect many of them were. At least those on this upper level.”
“Upper level?”
“The newest recruits are kept here on this level, the highest level,” the woman explained. “At least, while there’s still life in them. Gradually, as spirits lose their shine, they get shifted down, down, down… until eventually, when their souls have all but died, they get cast into the furthest depths of The Underworld. The Necropolis, some call it.”
“A necropolis for ghosts?”
She grimaced. “Strange, isn’t it, how even ghosts can have graves.” She paused as Chantel’s sobbing intensified.
I furrowed my brows. “How do you even know all this?”
“I’ve done my fair share of wandering,” she replied wearily. “At least in the beginning, when I first arrived and was far more reckless than now. I visited the caverns deep down. It’s…” Her voice faltered, horror filling her eyes. “Let’s just say it’s so bad, you can practically tell how many years they’ve been here just from glancing at them. It’s rare to find a ghost cognizant enough to even talk to down there.”
Years.
“There’s got to be a way to escape,” I hissed. “We’re ghosts, dammit!”
It was Nolan who replied this time. “I tried, Joseph,” he murmured behind me. “Chantel and I tried and… it wasn’t worth it. Trust me.”
I whirled on him, stunned. He’d barely been here a day. How the heck can he have given up so quickly? I felt a sense of frustration—even anger—toward him for being so spineless.
“We tried to flee for the exit,” Chantel managed. “But they caught us. They caught us and they…” Her voice choked up again.
“What did they do?” I demanded, lurching closer to the couple.
Nolan shook his head, while Chantel buried her head in her wispy hands. “Don’t make us talk about it,” he rasped. “Please, Joseph, just take our word for it.”
I twisted to face the elderly woman, raising a brow. “What do the ghouls do to those who attempt escape?”
As helpful as the woman had been until now in answering my questions, chillingly, she too became tight-lipped.
I cast my gaze around the rest of the hapless ghosts in this pond. All was quiet by now as they listened in to our conversation. “What do they do?” I shouted. Anger overtook me as none offered up an answer.
How can they all be such wimps?
It wasn’t right for me to feel anger toward these poor, unfortunate souls. They’d done nothing to harm me. But I realized that it wasn’t really anger propelling my actions. Beneath my heated temperament was ice-cold fear.
I cast my eyes back to the surface of the water, where the ghoul had been hovering to make sure that I remained within the water. I could no longer see his shadow looming. I could only assume that he’d moved elsewhere.
I attempted to adopt a calmer tone before addressing the old woman again. “None of us are bound by chains. We have free movement. We can pass through walls. We can—”
“And so can ghouls,” the woman finished for me. “And for your information, the only reason that they don’t chain us is because, again like fish, they like to see us roaming about. That is also why they like to have a constant influx of ghosts, to decorate their chambers—those with fresh life in them. And those ghosts who drain out get shifted down lower, out of sight. Because what attraction is there to a bloated, unmoving fish? I also have a suspicion that they enjoy the chase when a ghost disobeys their will… I’m sure they also enjoy the discipline that follows.”
�
��What do you mean by discipline?”
“Just trust me when I say you don’t want to find out.” The woman pursed her lips.
I couldn’t accept what she was saying. I was a ghost. A spirit, barely even existing. I’d given up the confinements of a physical body and one of the few advantages I had left in this half life was that I was ethereal… and yet not so ethereal that ghouls and fae couldn’t touch me…
“How are ghouls able to touch us?” I asked. “And for that matter, how are fae able to touch us?”
“I don’t know for sure,” she replied. “All I know is that both are spirits of a different kind. Although they can assume physical forms—as solid as any human—their natural state is subtle.”
I wondered now if jinn could touch and see ghosts. I’d never gotten a chance to see Aisha again after I left my body. She’d been trapped in Julie’s blasted Elder box.
My mind trailed back to just before the fae had caught me. I’d ventured beyond the walls and explored the vacuum. Then, before returning, I’d yelled. I supposed that those fae must have been somewhere nearby to hear… although I hadn’t been able to spot them when I was drifting around on the other side.
“I doubt there is any ‘other side’ after all,” Chantel croaked.
“Oh, there may well be,” the old woman replied. “A counterfeit object doesn’t preclude the existence of a genuine one. It’s just that this… this is all a hoax. To unsuspecting humans or supernaturals—those who have never encountered fae before—they look quite like the traditional concept of angels, don’t you think? The cunning creatures know this, and they use this to fool people and lure them into their trap. They are the worst, most despicable kind of cheaters, playing on the hopes and desperation of lost souls.”
Bastards.
Now I wondered whether it was even possible for a ghost to reach the other side, if the whole glowing gate thing was a load of crap. I wondered whether “the other side” was still indeed beyond the walls of the portal, as Nolan and Chantel had believed. Anyway, there was no point in thinking of it now.
My mind turned back to escape. “So, what you’re really trying to tell me, is that you don’t know a single ghost who’s managed to escape this place?”
“That is what I’m telling you,” the woman replied. “I’m not saying it’s impossible but after a few tries… it tends to wear you down. There’ve been cases of particularly stubborn ghosts who try and try again, but it’s always them who end up being removed from the upper levels first. The rumor among ghosts here is that five is the unlucky number.”
I raised a brow. “Meaning?”
“After five attempts—failed attempts, I might add, which they always are—no ghost has been known to possess enough life to warrant the ghouls keeping them in the levels above The Necropolis.”
My eyes traveled over the grim ghosts surrounding me—almost everyone now seemed to be listening in to our conversation. Their hopeless, pale faces were a harrowing sight, and these ghosts were supposed to be among the latest recruits. I couldn’t imagine how any ghost would still have a sound mind after one year in this hellhole. It was no wonder that they became shadows of their former selves… What was life as a ghost like here? What did they do all day and night, cooped up like koi fish? I guessed the same applied for any ghost, in a way. What did ghosts do with their time? Try to get lost in dreams like Ernest, I guessed. Though in this place, I couldn’t imagine there were any dreams. Only nightmares.
I studied the old woman’s face closely, again wondering what she was—or rather what she had been. This time, I asked.
“A werewolf,” she replied, with a small, strained smile.
That would explain the bushiness of her brows…
“And a rather old one at that. My name is Marcilla. Marcilla, of the Brownback tribe, from The Woodlands.”
The Woodlands. The realm of the werewolves, where I had visited briefly.
So the fae are stealing ghosts away from the portals in the supernatural dimension, too.
Although there were still hundreds more questions crowding my mind, I was already suffering from information overload. I needed to first process what I’d learned so far.
“Thank you, Marcilla, for answering my questions,” I said.
“You’re welcome… Joseph, I believe the witch called you?”
I didn’t bother to correct her with my real name. I simply nodded before drifting back. The rest of the ghosts in the pond were still silent, eyeing me. Some looked even disappointed, as though they had wanted the conversation to continue. I guessed the drama that followed the arrival of a new recruit was the only entertainment they had all day.
Now I needed to be alone. Alone with my thoughts. Alone to face my fears. As dead as I was, seeing my mother, sister and River back in that oracle’s cave had sparked a fire within me. I was going to escape, no matter what the pain or sacrifice. I had to. I’d made a promise to River, and I intended to keep it, no matter how impossible it seemed.
On the subject of the oracle… damn the woman!
I realized now that, had it not been for her ambiguous wording, I probably wouldn’t have bothered to float through the tunnel walls. I probably would have followed my instinct and fled the moment I saw that fae emerging from the gate. But playing at the back of my mind all along had been the faint possibility she’d planted with that one little devious answer…
“You’re telling me I need to go to the ‘other side?’… But how would that bring me back to my old life?”
“I never said it would,” she’d countered. “Though I never said it wouldn’t, either.”
I hadn’t even been aware at the time how much her words had been playing on my subconscious. But now I saw it all. Why else would I have bothered venturing through the tunnel walls when I’d already been told that “the other side” lay somewhere beyond them? Buried within me had been the small belief that maybe I ought to blindly follow the oracle’s suggestion, and trust that I would be better off for it.
I cursed myself for my naïve stupidity.
But then, as I continued replaying the meeting over in my mind, I recalled another little sentence she’d dropped into the conversation…
“My patience wears thinner than a ghoul’s skin.”
The analogy was certainly an uncommon one. In using it, had she been foreshadowing what was to come? What was meant to happen? Or were these just more of her endless mind games?
But would she really be so malicious as to send me to this hellish place just for her own amusement? Would she really be so evil?
I could describe the oracle in many ways, but she’d never struck me as evil.
Whatever the case, it didn’t matter.
I was here.
But I can’t just sit here.
I gazed once again toward the rippling surface of the pool. No matter how many warnings I’d received against it, I was going to try to escape.
“Not try.” For some reason I imagined the oracle’s voice correcting me in my head. “Trying is for cowards.”
Not try.
I am going to escape.
Ben
I surfaced near the edge of the pool, at the side that was closest to the path that ran through the cavern. Slowly, I raised my head above water and glanced around the chamber. There were no signs of the ghoul anymore. Either he had made himself invisible to me or he had gone.
There was only one way to find out for sure.
I cast one last glance back down into the pool, eyeing the ghosts. Chantel, Nolan, and Marcilla were staring at me, as were several other ghosts.
They already knew what I was about to attempt.
“Good luck,” Nolan mouthed, even as Marcilla grimaced.
I nodded back curtly in response, refusing to allow their expressions to dampen my resolve.
Then I dared lift fully out of the pond, all the while keeping watch on my surroundings. In one swift motion, I swept across the chamber toward the same tunnel entrance t
he ghoul had escorted me through. That was the way to the exit. The ghoul had never given me a chance to see whether I could actually pass through the main door. Now was my chance to test it. I zoomed back along the path that I had been brought down, even as I gazed around me in constant worry of being spotted by a ghoul. It was endlessly unnerving to think that one could approach me at any time and I wouldn’t even know it.
By some mercy, I managed to reach the main door, and as I sank my form through it, I was able to pass to the other side. I’d been hoping against hope that this would be the case but now that I’d actually managed it, I found myself almost in shock. How could they just allow that?
I emerged in the dark cavern that enclosed a vast black lake. My eyes immediately fixed on the tunnel that I had traveled through on the boat with the fae. I zoomed across the water toward it and, entering, I wound round and round the ghostly canal until I reached the first cavern I’d visited. The entrance cavern.
Here, I was met with a stunning sight. A sight I’d not been able to see before due to my limited view from within the coffin. I gazed up at the towering ceiling to see that… it wasn’t all ceiling at all. In the center was a large, gaping hole, swelling with spiraling water. And it was through this hole that faint trickles of light emanated. It was the base of the strange vortex I had fallen through. I wasn’t sure by what magic, but only droplets of water trickled down to the lake beneath. The main mass of water remained suspended in the ceiling.
I was about to begin advancing toward it when something else caught my attention. Ghouls. There was a crowd of them—ten altogether if I counted correctly—hovering near the entrance to the whirlpool. They appeared to be conversing amongst themselves, making strange, eerie tittering noises.
I thought for a moment that perhaps they were about to exit—depart on an excursion to kidnap some ghosts, or perhaps rob some graves—and if I just waited, I would get my chance. But they showed no signs of approaching the eye of the vortex. They remained as they were, hovering nearby. They must be guards.
A Flight of Souls Page 6