Mortals: Heather Despair Book One

by Leslie Edens

  I looked up. The entire top of the tree was ablaze. I had not meant to set it on fire, had not even known slough trees would be flammable. But it seemed right to take advantage, so I jumped behind the trunk, and shouting “Tim—ber!” I blasted away at the roots.

  The tree shook and groaned some more, almost like a living thing. Beyond, the Doctormans’ eyes had grown wide, frozen with fear. I gave one final blast, and the entire tree leaned, vibrated for a long moment, then tore loose from the earth, plunging toward the Doctormans and their storm. It fell across the tempest, bisecting it, the blue flames creating a barrier down the middle.

  The roots flailed in the air like dying things, and from the hole the tree left behind, misty spirit shapes wafted. They shook their fingers at me, clucked and scolded, then were gone, whizzing away to find some other tree. I peered into the hole, which was deep and dark and echo-y.

  On the portal field, Aurelius had gone one way, Xenia the other, and they called to each other over the slough tree’s burning trunk.

  I had to clear this storm. I remembered before, in Portales Espirituales, how I’d absorbed the energy of a storm like this, then used it against the enemy. I could do that again, but I had to reach it. Maybe I could fight off Xenia.

  I walked down the Xenia side of the burning tree trunk and aimed blasts of spectricity in her direction. When I got close to the storm, I reached out. The sparks touched my hand. The storm’s energy started to trickle into my hand while my fingers danced. I focused on absorbing the spectricity from the storm.

  An explosion flashed in front of me, searing my eyeballs. What was that? I jumped and started firing again. Xenia retreated into the trees, and now that cruxing Aurelius had come through the storm and was firing at me. I was forced to raise my shield.

  Backing up to the base of the smoking tree, I studied the hole. It just went down and down and down, the roots of the tree apparently the entrance to a world below. Big enough to hold another world. Big enough for . . . I had an idea.

  Yes. It might work. But did I have the power? This ring had given me control, but was it enough?

  Only one way to find out. I let down my shield with a long, slow, breath. Held my hands to my heart. I had to want it. I had to desire it, really feel it. Know it was true.

  And there was a tingle, a pop and a crack. I stumbled back, woozy, and fell on my rump. Sitting there, dazed, I saw before me, at my feet—a large hole, but no longer empty and echoing. A large hole full of black clouds and blue lightning, the entire storm now trapped within the cavernous opening below my feet. I had captured their storm. I reached out . . .

  The energy fed into my hands, draining slowly, and I lit up blue. Spirals of spectricity ran up my arms, blue wings flowing off my shoulders. I felt like I might fly, so strongly did the power pulse through me. I drained off the last bit of energy, then got to my feet, wobbling. But there was no need to raise a shield. Blue power emanated out of me, and I rose ever so slightly off the ground, my toes dragging.

  “Wow!” I said. “This is power!”

  I aimed my finger at the remains of the storm in the cavern. With one zap, I quelled its rumbling. It evaporated away into the calm gray sky.

  With a wave of my hand, I extinguished the tree’s fire into a smoking ruin.

  I drifted toward the portals, toes dragging the ground, astonished that I was almost flying. If this got any stronger, who knew what I might do?

  The Doctormans converged on me, and I expected more blasts, but instead, they bowed low in the gray grass. To me?

  I scanned the portal field. Nothing in sight. No Sam and no Emmett. Had they gotten through?

  —Sam? I dared one tiny mind message.

  —He is safe, Aether. At the mortal hold, guarded by bat-Chi’s. As you commanded.

  I jolted with shock. That wasn’t Sam! Sam’s messages felt sharp, abrupt—almost spiky. This message felt ornate, curling, golden. Emmett? I savored the feel of him, touching my forehead with a smile.

  A deep laugh boomed across the clearing, rattling my brain.

  “Yesss.” The voice hissed and had a thousand whispers and echoes. “Telepathy. Very good. And with spirits—not just your kin.”

  I came down to earth, stood solid, looking for the speaker. “Show yourself,” I said, though I had some inkling who it was.

  Clouds roiled up on the edge of the portal field. From them walked the tallest, longest person I’d ever beheld, stooped over and leaning on a scepter. That scepter must have been at least nine feet long. The elongated, drawn face smiled wickedly down on me, black eyes switching back and forth, the black-cloaked body swaying like a cobra about to strike.

  I quivered, wanted to shrink back into the woods, maybe find that hole to hide in. What was I doing? The Bellum. I couldn’t face the Bellum! I—I was just a girl. A junkyard rat. Even my father couldn’t face the Bellum and come out on top! My knees trembled.

  I remembered Dad, standing so firm in front of the ancient spirit god. Firm and unmoving and refusing to give us up. Maybe he was just stupid.

  “I can be stupid, too,” I said to myself.

  Maybe, though, he had a big heart. A big heart and a brave one, that wouldn’t give us up. If only he’d also managed to save his friends.

  “Heather Desperate Despair,” said the Bellum’s whispering hiss. It seemed to fill the sky, the air all around me, pressing in on my eardrums, on my mind. “Pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve heard good things about you.”

  I just growled at him.

  He glared back and forth, at the Doctormans. “Stand up, you fools. My shades tell me the seer and the spirit have reached the Hollow Hill Hold in the prior world, below. Follow and ensure they don’t leave.” He snapped his long, bony fingers.

  The Doctormans bowed and scraped and scuttled down a portal. I watched with curiosity as they stepped out over a large, blue-glowing hole. Holding hands, they tumbled in, whipped around briefly in the air over the hole, then spun down.

  My hands shook with fury. Here I was, trapped by the Bellum, while Sam, Emmett, and maybe Dad would get attacked by those Doctormans again. I only hoped Emmett had Sam hidden someplace and hidden well. I thought of Emmett’s wide grin, that serious part in his hair. If you send me, I must go, he’d said. I wondered if that was true, if he really had to do as I asked.

  A knot formed in my throat. I missed him. I missed all of them, but especially Emmett, which was peculiar, because I’d known him about one day. I kept thinking of the way he held me in the woods, not just his arms but his whole being nestled around me, and for that one second, he was alive and warm . . .

  My stomach tingled, and now there was no denying it. I may be destroyed by the Bellum seconds from now. No reason to hide it anymore. I was crushing hard on that crazy monochrome spirit.

  It might even be love.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Battle

  I sized up the fifteen-foot spirit god before me. Stretched my arms over my head. Cracked my knuckles. Yeah. This wouldn’t be so hard.

  Never mind that everybody had abandoned me here to face him alone. Never mind that even my dad, the strongest spiritualist I knew, hadn’t been able to best him.

  Wait. That wasn’t like me, to think like that. Why did my head feel all . . . echo-y?

  “Very good,” hissed the Bellum, his ancient face crinkling with laughter. “You’re no pushover. Will you grant me the answer to one question, if I may?”

  He’d done something, used my thoughts against me.

  “I’ll answer a question if you will,” I countered. “What exactly is your full name again?”

  The Bellum bowed low. “Some call me Bellum Omnium Contra Omnes, though really I feel that is too grand a title for me. I prefer simply Bellum.”

  “And that means?” I had kinda pieced it together, but I wanted to be sure.

  “The War of All Against All,” he replied, his head still bowed modestly.

  “Right,” I said. “How did you g
et that name?”

  “Ah-ah.” His head came up, eyes flashing. He shook his extremely long forefinger at me. “Not until you answer my question first.”

  I bowed in return but didn’t lower my head. Didn’t take my eyes off him.

  “Your spirit name,” he said.

  “I don’t know it.” I shook my head.

  Wasn’t about to tell him, even if I did. Names. That’s how he got the Four. I wasn’t about to give this guy anything name-related. But I had his name. That had to mean something.

  Maybe he was so powerful, he didn’t find me a threat.

  “I know you to be the heir,” he said. “Able lied when he claimed he had no progeny. And you’re more powerful than he was. More powerful than all of them. It’s as though all the power, through the generations, concentrated itself in you. That’s why I wish to know. Which one of them are you?”

  I didn’t reply, just stared him down, golden-eyed and determined.

  “Are you Pearl?” He cocked his head sideways at me. “She was very powerful. The last to hold the ring, before you. Of course, my minion saw to that.” He winked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  He shook his head at me. “Able was so remiss in training his children. You would think, with power like that, he’d hang around and teach you. But he just left you both behind, didn’t he? Deadbeat dad, taking off with a mistress for the far dimensions.”

  “Lying,” I said. “He would have returned if he could.”

  “You don’t really know, do you? Whether that’s true? Sam knows,” said Bellum. He hobbled closer, leaning on his staff, weaving back and forth. “Samhain Despair, infallible seer. How I would love to have his skills on my side. Especially since he’s so young. So impressionable. At his age, he could become anything.”

  “Leave Sam out of it,” I snarled.

  Fear struck my heart. What if he could get to Sam, turn him? I mean, not that Sam would ever—but maybe, if he were wounded or confused.

  Don’t think like that. Dad didn’t turn, and he was wounded.

  But Dad gave away all his friends, came that whispery voice. Even Dad couldn’t resist the commands of the Bellum.

  “Enough!” I shouted. “Enough of your doubt-casting! Are you here to fight me or talk all day?”

  I reached my hands high, pushing as much of the blue electricity into them as possible. They burned and crackled, the power in them extreme. I’d never felt such explosiveness in my own body. I shot a lightning bolt upwards, just as an experiment. It cracked the sky.

  I’m a goddess, I thought. A freaking superhero. What am I?

  But I knew better. The thoughts were startling close to the kind of megalomania that got one trapped in Bellumism. So, I dismissed them. I was here to fight, not revel in my own power.

  “No more tricks,” I said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  This is crazy, I thought. As far as I knew, no one had ever actually fought the Bellum before. Maybe he wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. He sure seemed to use words a lot more than he used muscle or firepower. If Sam were here, what would he do?

  Probably go in punching. And that was right. What could a spirit god do against a purely physical, mortal attack?

  Or a spectricity attack. One that contained the power of an entire spirit world storm.

  I lifted up, half-flew behind the charred trunk of the tree I’d felled, careful to avoid the hole. Hidden by its spreading roots that still quivered as if alive, I pulled all my power together, fused into a single force, my twitching hands held before my center. There. Now I needed to be able to target him.

  Mist and smoke were already zipping around me, like random missiles. Small chunks rained down, burning sulfur and black, fiery rocks like briquets. I dodged but held my power steady. I’d have, at most, one shot.

  Bellum’s voice boomed over the sound of spattering rocks and zipping debris. “The New Four. Their names, mortal. I command you to reveal them.”

  I felt the names form in my mind. His commands were incredibly hard to disobey.

  “Their spirit names,” he thundered.

  “I don’t . . . know them,” I squeaked. If it were up to me, I never would, either. Seemed nothing but dangerous. “I’d never reveal them to you, even if I did!”

  I charged then, came out punching.

  “Why are you so threatened by a pack of mortals? Unless—you know one of us will take you down,” I said.

  I glared, unflinching, into his dark, beady eyes. He raised his staff. The shock on his face, mouth hanging slack, eyes horrified, gave me extreme satisfaction. I took careful aim, then released my power. All the power I’d gathered from the storm, all the spectricity I naturally gathered from my environment. I aimed it straight at the Bellum’s dark heart.

  He howled and held his staff aloft. The storm of spectricity whirled around him, lone bolts snapping and cracking when they made contact. He gritted his long teeth, eyes bulging, as he held back the storm. I pushed, keeping it steady. The energy surrounded him. If I could keep going, hold it in place—I might be able to overpower him. Or at least do some damage!

  —Spirit names.

  I trembled, as though I stood on shaky ground. The more I blasted him with my power, the more the Bellum found ways to undercut it. The faces floated before me, portraits in my mind’s eye. Trenton’s blue eyes and dimples, his springy blond hair. Oskar’s strong, handsome chin, hazel eyes, perfect auburn hair. And Lily: black, spiky hair with pink stripes, enormous glasses, argyle sweater, and that know-it-all look.

  I couldn’t let them be found. But their spirit names were already forming in my head, against my will. St . . . Te . . . O . . .

  I struggled to hold them off, sure he’d read them from my thoughts. I clenched my forehead and held the storm steady. Smoke poured off the Bellum, his face enraged, as he continued to spin the storm around him, avoiding my attack. The storm flickered, its power starting to wane. Bellum raised his arms, his scepter. Blackish purple flickers overtook his body, spectricity of a darker kind.

  The only way was to go straight through him. I took a step forward. Couldn’t avoid him, couldn’t give up, or I’d be dead in an instant. I urged the storm on, shaking with exhaustion.

  —Your spirit name . . . Heather Desperate Despair. What is your spirit name?

  I shook his message from my head. The storm spinning slower, Bellum waving it off, pushing it back with his purple force. I hadn’t gotten through. I was too weak. I stumbled back, cowered in the shelter of the fallen tree.

  —Speak your name, my child.

  I opened my mouth. A sound came out.

  “Heather Desperate Despair,” I said.

  “Nooo!” howled Bellum. “Your spirit name!”

  A wave of strength coursed through me. I stood. I floated! Almost a foot above the ground. And I let go. I pushed that storm with everything I had, everything this time, not energy I’d gathered from the storm, but inner energy—what had always been there.

  I gave it my all.

  The storm flared up, surrounding Bellum’s purple fire. Through my squint, I couldn’t see Bellum anymore. I could hear him screaming and smell a horrible electrical burn. I ground my teeth and clenched my fists, shoulders up around my ears, and held the pressure. My limbs shaking, my mind shrieking in exhaustion and fear, but I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t give up, nor give him one more chance to find my friends, threaten my family, attack or kill those I loved.

  After many long moments, my strength gave out. I fell forward, nose to the gray grass. I looked up, groaning, as my storm dispelled, spikes of energy crackling off into nothingness.

  And in the middle, nothingness too. The Bellum had truly gone.

  I gave a tiny cheer, then I must have passed out. I awoke to a stabbing pain on my back.

  “Now that you’ve thoroughly exhausted those powers—and shown me what you can do—I shall escort you to my hold. Then we shall see about those names.”


  Oh no. That booming voice. Was I dreaming? Couldn’t be . . .

  I rolled sideways. The long staff, jabbing at me, and up above, so far up above—Bellum. The evil ancient face leered, the thin body swayed.

  “You are your own worst enemy,” he said. “All mortals are. Wore yourself out to prove something that can never be. You can never win against me. You can’t even fight me. The battle was lost before it began, because you’re only fighting yourself. Avoiding the inevitable—that you will join me. Together, we will stand against the All and rule in my new world.”

  I spat at him.

  “I won’t join you,” I whispered. “You’ve got the wrong Despair.”

  “Oh. That may be,” he said, sounding surprised. “The prophecy didn’t specify. It could be your brother Sam who turns against.”

  “Not . . . Sam.” I heaved myself up, pushed his scepter away. “Not my brother. Not my friends. Not my father. Not my world.” I started working up a ball of spectricity in my hands.

  Bellum laughed, deep and resounding. “More resistance? All you mortals do is resist. And it only feeds me more energy.”

  He lifted his scepter, roaring with purple flames. “Time for a new lesson. Die slowly and with great pain.” He drove the scepter down, aimed for my heart, and in a split second I thought, This is it. Just like Able. At least I was brave. I didn’t give them up.

  Then a gray blur. The scepter slammed away, Bellum cursed, and I rolled. I crawled until I was nearly under the slough tree, hidden in some low-lying murk. I peeked out.

  Bellum stood heaving in the center of the portal field, unarmed, his scepter gone.

  “Whichever spirit did that,” he bellowed, “You’ll answer to the Bellum!” He sniffed.

  “Come on, Aether!” I rubbed my ear. That tickle! I felt his arm, light as a feather, on my shoulders. The outline of a black-and-white face grinned at me.

  “Emmett!” I said.

  He held his finger before his lips, smiling. I smiled back. Then, I couldn’t help it. I reached into the air—he had to be there somewhere—and hugged. What I hugged, I couldn’t say, but it felt fuzzy, in turns hot and cold, and smelled of lightning.