A Courtroom of Ashes

by C. S. Wilde

  “She said ‘Mommy is gonna save you.’”

  Mamma Na Se’s eyes get wet. “Oh, child…”

  A continuous whisper sizzles from behind Mamma Na Se, blooming from the darkness beyond the fire. John and Irving stand alert. In the whisper that doesn’t end, I recognize the word ‘light,’ reverberating in a mantra.

  The boys step back to us, so that we’re hiding Mamma Na Se in a triangle.

  “Her light attracted a pack,” John says, Spritebreaker in hand.

  “Santana?” Mamma Na Se’s image breaks as if stricken by interference.

  Several white irises shine beyond the fire. Nine pairs of them, actually.

  The Shades cross the darkness, allowing the fire to reveal ragged, drooling monsters, their dark blue skin blending in with the falling night. Their grins show pointy teeth, built to tear flesh apart. Some of them are completely naked and instinctively, I turn away.

  Their whispers linger as they say, “Liiiight.”

  “Santana, run!” Mamma Na Se shouts before she clears out for good.

  But I can’t run, I can’t even move.

  The Shades step back. They’ve lost their light, and I let out a relieved breath. We’re safe; without the light they’ll go away. But a Shade bigger and bulkier than the others steps forward. He has a huge scar across his face, from the top of his head to the tip of his chin, and I catch myself staring at him.

  The Shade laughs a rough, inhuman laugh before he points at me and yells, “LIGHT!”

  Shit, the light in my eyes!

  The Shades close in on us and we step back. I grasp Foxberry, but the truth is I don’t know how to use my sword properly yet, and they are too many.

  We’re royally screwed.

  Out of nowhere, a wooden spear flies over my head and into the heart of one of them. The Shades stare dumfounded at the spear sticking out of their friend’s chest, half impaling him. Then the monster turns into black ashes.

  So decapitation is not the only way to die in Death. Piercing people’s hearts can do the job too.

  I turn back to where the spear came from, and see a dark shadow with blonde hair. It’s Barbie, face pinched like a wild thing, pearl-white teeth bared for all to see. The Shades recede as she steps forward and retrieves the spear, shaking the black ashes from it in defiance.

  Barbie walks back to us, eyes on the Shades, until she stops by my side. Irving and John stand ready. The quiet of an impending storm reverberates through the air much like electric sparks.

  Slowly, the leader retreats and the Shades follow. My entire body relaxes.

  As soon as they disappear in the dark, I wrap Barbie in my arms. “You’re back!”

  She’s here! My best friend! I found her, well, actually she found me!

  She tries a smile that doesn’t quite fit her face, as if she’s forgotten how to do it. She taps my back awkwardly.

  “How do you feel?” Irving asks, and I think he means me before he pulls me away and checks under Barbie’s eyes.

  “O,” she closes her face. “O-kay.”

  “You have more hair.” He bites and bares his teeth so that Barbie does the same. Confused, she does. “Perfect white teeth too. I say that’s pretty good news, heh?”

  Barbie stares at him, then hides her face, a tiny smile on her lips.

  “I’m Irving by the way.” With no respect for personal boundaries, he checks behind her ears.

  What on Death is Irving doing? He’s not her doctor, and he’s not her best friend!

  “It’s different,” John says, interrupting my thoughts.

  “What is?”

  “The Shade who died from the spear must have recently passed. The longer you’ve been dead, the more detached your spirit-body. The more damage you can take.” He lifts his chin in an all-knowing way. “Molly can take a sword to the heart at any time of day. It’s all about one’s development as a spirit.”

  I suspect he said this to give Irving time to analyze Barbie.

  John smirks. “No, I just didn’t want you to act like a jealous fool.”

  I punch him softly in the shoulder, and this is as far as I’ll go toward admitting he was right.

  “Sssanty?” Barbie looks at us with a puzzled expression. She points to John and I think she’s about to say something, when a spear dives in the ground, five inches from where I stand.

  20

  The leader of the Shades watches us from beyond the fire, and when he roars a battle cry, the nine pairs of shiny eyes return, popping out of the night.

  The fizzling sound of blood traveling through veins fills my ears as the monsters close in. As if on autopilot, I unsheathe Foxberry, fully aware that I could vanish from existence today.

  Suddenly, loud cries shatter the buzz in my ears and wake me from my panic. John and Irving are attacking the Shades, fighting back-to-back in perfect sync. While Spritebreaker beheads a Shade, Irving’s sword cuts across another Shade’s stomach, almost slicing the monster in half. Blood sprays from the wound, but it morphs into black sand that swooshes in the air. The Shade stares wide-eyed at its own blood turning into dust, but soon black sand infects all of its body, and as it disintegrates, Irving jumps over a rock and bellows a guttural cry that sends shivers down my spine. There are no two things more opposite than Irving and primitive, yet here they are, working perfectly together.

  Some of the monsters step back. Irving’s roar clearly scared them, but only for a second. The Shades walk forward now, hungry eyes on Irving. He doesn’t flinch before diving into the middle of them with a bloodthirsty grin.

  Holy shit.

  John darts to join Irving, but the bulky leader of the Shades lunges toward him from behind.

  I shout, “John, watch out!” just in time, and the Shade’s tattered sword misses him by an inch.

  Their weapons clash in loud clangs, but Spritebreaker finds gaps in the monster’s defense, slicing at his ankles, arms, and legs. The Shade blocks Spritebreaker’s slash at his neck, then crashes a blow over John’s face with his free hand. John stumbles backward, and I lose the ground beneath me. Sword in hand, I run to help him, ready for whatever comes, but someone grabs my arm. Barbie. She’s looking to our right.

  We have an audience.

  Three Shades approach, staring at us with starving eyes. One of them, a toothless woman, jumps at me, a flying shadow with silver moons behind it. I lift my hands to protect myself—as if that could ever stop her— but Barbie meets her in midair and both fall under nearby bushes.

  I let out a relieved breath, but it doesn’t last: The remaining two Shades lick their lips and grin at me.

  I’m alone.

  With them.

  Straight back, steady base. I can do this. My muscles clench as I grip Foxberry with all I’ve got, but that’s when Irving comes from some dark spot behind the shades and slashes one’s throat and the other’s stomach. He didn’t take more than a heartbeat. I stare completely speechless at this William Wallace incarnated, and he seems to find it amusing because he winks at me and smiles before leaping over the fire to engage in another fight. Before I can shout a thank you, a sting pierces through my scalp and I crash with my back to the ground. All the air in my lungs flees.

  Gasping, I glare at a Shade’s drooling face. His white irises stand out from the dark of his skin, and his smile shows his toothless gums. He pulls me by the hair, dragging me across the ground. My scalp burns, and the stones and twigs on the forest floor tear at my back. I slam Foxberry over his hand, but he doesn’t let go. I swing it, trying to cut him, but the positioning is all wrong. All I can do is yelp.

  Suddenly he stops and releases me. I tilt my head, staring upside-down at his back. He doesn’t move. Then his head slips over his neck and drops on the ground like a ripe coconut.

  The head and body crumble into ashes, revealing John right ahead. He smiles down at me and although I’m panting up my chest, I manage to smile back. “Thanks, Mr. Braver.”

  He winks in a careless
way, as if we’re not battling a horde of Shades right now. As if we’re completely safe. “Anytime, sweetie-pie.”

  The urge to kiss him comes up, not only because I’m terribly in love with him, but because I want to thank him for being my knight in shining armor. I’ll never be the blushing damsel-in-distress type, but as long as John is by my side, I’ll be all right.

  The rusty blade comes out of nowhere, piercing a spot below John’s chest, then his belly and his throat. His mouth contorts in pain and Spritebreaker falls from his grasp. A thin stream of blood sprouts from the corner of his mouth, runs down his chin, and mingles with the blood gushing from his neck.

  This isn’t happening.

  A storm rumbles under my skin, thundering, blasting. John falls, hands clutching his throat, body slumping against the ground.

  Not him. Please, not him!

  The bulky Shade stands behind John’s fallen body, grinning like this is the happiest day of his life. The Shade is covered in cuts and bruises, and dark red drips from his broken nose.

  John started the job. I’ll finish it. Tides of fury and sorrow drown me, and I hear my own heartbeat, lungs breathing in and out, so loudly. The storm inside thunders one word: Kill. My muscles clench, and my vision clears. I see everything, smell everything: the willows, the ashes, and this Shade’s blood. A thought bursts into my mind: Smash his head into a heap of flesh and skull.

  The Shade points his blood-stained sword at me.

  I’m ready. I don’t know how, but I am. I lift Foxberry as easily as one lifts a finger, right before his sword clashes against mine, throwing Foxberry out of the way. His fist has a clear shot at my ribs, but he’s too slow. Pivoting, I concentrate all my strength on Foxberry. It draws a horizontal line in the Shade’s face as I complete the spin. Cutting through his flesh and bones is as effortless as ripping a sheet of paper.

  Should it be that easy?

  The Shade remains frozen, his fist raised in midair, until the upper part of his face slides to the ground. The body dismantles into dark sand, but there’s no time to wonder how I did that.

  Running to John, I press my hands against his chest and belly wounds. His blood is warm and it’s painting my skin. “Stay with me!”

  John coughs and drools blood. I plead for the liquid gushing out of him to stop, but it doesn’t obey. He mouths something I can’t understand.

  Irving runs to us. “Mate, come on, yer dead already! This is nothing, ye hear?”

  John mouths what I think is, “Feels like something.”

  Please, God or whomever, you took my mother and Barbie, please don’t take him!

  The image of Tommy, worry all over him, erupts from my memory. “Take care of your wounds,” I mumble.

  Finding my backpack, I grab a bulky piece of cloth, forgetting to watch out for those demons. But all the Shades are either dead or gone.

  I cut a long line and wrap it around John’s chest, stomach, and neck. He’s heavy, so Irving helps me turn him over. John shivers so hard; this can’t be a good sign.

  Barbie kneels beside him and orders him in her husky Shade voice, “You, go back.”

  John’s eyes widen and he coughs harder, shaking his head as much as he can. Blood flows out of his wounds, soaking the cloths.

  “If you gone, she’s in more danger,” Barbie nudges her head toward me. “Go back to Shade, now. Heals quicker, buy you time.”

  He grits his teeth, wrinkling his face in pain, and an invisible hand presses my heart. It hurts to see him so broken.

  I grab his hands. “Please, John.”

  He shakes his head as his voice rings in my head. “I’m sorry I never told you I used to be a Shade.”

  “I don’t care.” I press my lips to his in a soft tender kiss that tastes the copper flavor of blood. It’s not enough; it’ll never be enough. So I kiss him again. “I can’t lose you.”

  John gawks at me. “I’m so glad I met you. I hope she’s happy.”

  Does he mean Molly? If so, why?

  It doesn’t matter, not now. I kiss him again, tears warm against my cheeks. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “We need to keep him warm.” Irving gently grabs John’s shoulders and Barbie his legs. They drag him toward the fire. “You comfortable, mate?”

  John doesn’t reply or open his eyes.

  “John!” I pound on his chest. “Come back, now!”

  Barbie grabs my raised fist before I strike him again. She points to the flickering firelight against his skin, which shows a pale blue tone. His veins are a sickening dark blue.

  “This should do.” She points to the stream of blood coming beneath the cloth around his throat. The flow has slowed.

  “Need to find safe place.” She looks around the woods, in that way animals have when they’re checking for predators. “Come.”

  We hike deeper into the blue willows, the trees painted silver by the moonlight. Barbie walks ahead while Irving carries John. His arms shake from John’s weight, but he proceeds. There are not enough words to thank him.

  We find a cave and start a fire. Irving and I lay John down and wrap him inside three blankets, while Barbie runs to the woods and returns a few moments later, holding two full bouquets of herbs. She drops most of the herbs on the ground, leaving only three stalks in her hand. She opens John’s backpack and rummages through it like a squirrel, throwing whatever she finds useless against the wall of the cave.

  “Hey lass, careful!”

  But Barbie doesn’t stop until she finds a small bowl. She breaks up the herbs harshly with her thumb, moving with the speed of a hummingbird, then grabs a water bottle and adds liquid to the mix. She keeps smashing the herbs until she gets a green paste, rougher than the one that heals broken ribs. She takes the water bottle and unwraps the cloths I tied around John’s wounds. She lays them dripping on the ground and washes his gashes. Blood rushes out.

  “Stop!” I screech.

  “He’ll bleed less each time.” She spreads the paste over the bruises, then cuts new pieces of cloth, closing the wounds with them.

  She hands the bowl to Irving. “Four times day.”

  “We have something like that in our backpacks,” Irving says.

  “Not like this. See how I did it?”

  Irving nods.

  “Four times day.”

  He raises his eyebrow. “Where did ye learn how to make these?”

  She eyes Irving for a second. “I met someone when I arrived. Showed me things, told me things.” She turns to me with a pained glance. “They say I should fix unfinished business. I tried.”

  Meanwhile, John is withering. I swallow back the desperation that’s trying to choke me. “Will he be okay, Barbie?”

  “Don’t know.”

  I can’t take it anymore, it’s too much. Desperation possesses me completely as a wave of weakness brings me to the ground, my nose pressed against the cave floor, hands clasped over my neck. “How can John’s body recover if there’s no body in the first place? He’s dead, you’re all dead! How can he die when he’s dead? It’s insane!” I’m crying and I’m tired and I can’t breathe.

  Barbie kneels. “Death doesn’t make sense. You make it with what you have.” She points to John. “He needs you to calm down.”

  Breathe, Santana. Breathe.

  “You two stay,” Barbie orders as she stands up. “I look for Lummeni.”

  “Have you lost it, lass?”

  Barbie glares at him as if he just insulted her. She speaks from behind her teeth, “They can help.”

  “What’s a Lummeni?” I fight to keep my voice at a normal pitch, but it’s useless.

  “Lummeni are so-called ‘enlightened’ spirits that haven’t gone to Heaven yet,” Irving says with a hint of disgust.

  “Like Molly?”

  “Molly is much better than all of them. Lummeni set themselves apart from the rest of us. They think they’re better.”

  Barbie rolls her eyes. “Lummeni know how the spirit-body work
s. Someone told me they live in the Wastelands, in a fortress. They can heal spirit-body.”

  “A fortress no one has ever seen, and even if you find it, what guarantees ye they’ll help?” Irving crosses his arms. “This is a bad plan.”

  “Your friend’s only hope.”

  Irving swallows dry. There’s nothing he can say to that.

  I stand up and start gathering supplies into my backpack. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Are ye both insane, women?” Irving stamps his hands on his head. “John was the one who knew the Wastelands, without him you’ll get lost. That is if ye don’t get caught by another pack of Shades! We need to stay here until he recovers. He’ll get better with the herbs. He’s John Braver for Christ’s sake, he can get through this, I know he can!”

  Barbie looks at Irving with pity. She puts a patronizing hand over his shoulder. “You know he can’t. Feel it.”

  I can’t feel it at all, but if John were a candle, he’d be flickering in the wind now, waiting for the breeze that will shut down his light. I want to protect him, put my hands around him so his light won’t fade, but I can’t.

  This won’t help. I need to put my emotions on the back burner, be the stealth lawyer once again. For John. “We need to hurry.”

  “Screw that, I’m coming!” Irving stands up, and Barbie pushes him down all too easily.

  He stares up at her. “H-How did you do that?”

  “Stronger than I look.” Barbie shrugs. “Shade strength not important. You’re best warrior—fast, smart. Bad Shades out there. You will protect him.”

  “No, I can’t let ye both alone out there.”

  “Irv, we’ll be fine.” I gently take Spritebreaker from John’s too-still body, hoping he’ll wake up and ask me what the hell I’m doing, but he doesn’t. I hand Spritebreaker to Barbie and she wraps the scabbard around her back. “We’re going.”

  He frowns at this, worry pouring out of him.

  Barbie rolls her eyes. “If we meet a pack, we run back. Okay?”

  He nods, but worry still fills his face and his arms remain crossed.

  I kiss John’s forehead before we leave. “We’ll be right back, I promise. Just hold on.” But my gut tells me I’ll never see John again. And my gut rarely makes mistakes.