Eerie (23 page)

“Asher,” she called as she hobbled near.

He stood on a bluff, facing a breathtaking view of snow-draped mountains and turned only slightly to greet her.

“I find it very difficult to talk to you on Earth,” he said.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, but hearing it so plainly sort of hurt Hailey's feelings.

“I'm very quickly frustrated with your defiance,” he went on, and Hailey pressed her lips together.

“Asher. You threatened to lock me up. How am I supposed to respond to that?”

He stepped away from the bluff, and Hailey shambled behind him.

“I really like the flowers,” she offered, trying to keep up.

“They remind me of you—
wild
flowers.” he said sharply, but then his mouth twitched. Hailey wasn't sure how to take it.

“You're doing it again. You make me so nervous—it seems like you're always mad at me, I—”

He spun around. “Hailey, I wish to heal your foot.”

“You can do that?”

“Yes,” he said, looking apologetic. “But not here. It has to be done on Earth. May I come see you?”

Hailey beamed. “Of course!”

She reached out to him, and he moved his translucent hand over hers.

“Then I will see you soon.”

Hailey woke just as Asher was leaving her room.

“Asher. Wait,” she said groggily, and he hesitated at the door. “Won't you stay and talk to me?”

His eyes glowed warmly when he turned to her. She swung her feet over the side of her bed and wiggled them excitedly.

“Did you fix my foot?”

“I did,” he answered even as Hailey unwrapped the bandages.

“This is amazing,” she said, pirouetting and laughing her relief. “Thank you!”

Without thinking, she danced to the door and flung her arms around him, hugging him tight—something she'd always longed to do when she'd seen him in the Aether. It felt good to feel him close; it felt warm and safe.

But when Asher didn't embrace her, she slid her arms off him and stepped back.

“Why did you do that?” he asked.

“I guess I was happy to see you,” she said, cringing inside. Clearly, she'd invaded his personal space. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Asher took her hand and pulled her back into him. “I can never predict you,” he said, stroking her back, and Hailey melted into his powerful arms.

“Clothes,” she blurted, leaning slightly away. “I was only wearing Fin's clothes because a poltergeist stole mine. I wasn't—”

“I'm aware,” was all he said, and Hailey studied his eyes.

“So, you're not going to kick me out of lab tomorrow?” she teased.

“No.”

“What are we going to work on—crystals?” Sliding out of his arms, she pranced to her pile of school materials, unable to hide her curiosity as she held up the vibrating box.

“Or . . .” She put those down and pulled on her Magnoggles, which reminded her of something the Red Baron would wear. “What do these do?” she asked when she found him looking perfectly normal on the other side of the lens.

“They allow you to view the Northern Lights.”

“Oh.” Pulling them off, she turned them over in her hands. “You can't see the Northern Lights without goggles?”

“Not properly,” he told her. “I'm afraid we won't be using them until November.”

“What about this?” She held up her vial of gold dust and shook it.

“For calibrating a ghost trap,” he said striding toward her.

“You have to calibrate them . . .oh . . .” Hailey said thoughtfully.

Very gently, Asher took the vial from her hand, pausing to brush his fingers across her skin. “You remind me of the wonder I felt when I first came to your world. And I very much look forward to working with you.” He gazed into her wide eyes for several seconds before placing her vial of gold dust back on the desk.

“Tomorrow, we'll discuss DOPPLER,” he said with a somber tone, but Hailey was still transfixed by his swirling eyes—so adoring, so kind.

“DOPPLER . . .” she repeated dreamily. Then she blinked several times, remembering Tomas.

“Why did they kidnap my poltergeist?”

Asher nodded, seeming to already know what she was talking about. “The men there are ambitious. They seek information and leverage in their dealings with the Envoys, and they know that you're . . .important...to me.”

“Am I?”

Asher trapped her in his piercing stare again. “I would reorder the world for you,” he told her softly, and Hailey caught her breath.

Hailey-Khu and Schatz—that's what Tomas meant—she was Asher's treasure—he protected her soul. She dropped her gaze, not sure she rated such a compliment even as Asher pulled her close and moved his lips to her ear. “I promise you, Hailey,” he whispered, “I'll never lock you away. Forgive me for suggesting it.”

As he looked her in the eyes again, Hailey held her breath, convinced he was about to kiss her.

Instead, he stepped back and surveyed her room.

“How are you adjusting to Alaska? Do you require anything?” he asked, and Hailey breathed again.

“No, I don't think so.” She waved her arm at her school books. “Thank you for bringing me all this. You're a life saver. And Fin's driving me into Anchorage on Thursday for some . . .shopping . . .”

Hailey's voice died when Asher flicked his eyes at her. They erupted, and without explanation, he stormed out of her room, slamming the door behind him.

If she had a pillow, Hailey would have screamed into it.

In the morning, Fin caught up to Hailey as she bounded down the stairs, heading purposefully toward Olde Main for her first lab with Asher.

“Why are you wearing your wellies? It's not raining,” was how he greeted her.

“My sneakers ran away.” She pointed at his feet. “It's forty degrees out here—I can't believe you're wearing flip-flops.”

“This is Alaska, Hailey. It doesn't matter how cold it is—if there's no snow on the ground, it's flip-flop weather.”

Hailey nodded, impressed.

“How's the agony of the feet this morning?” he asked.

“Great! It's completely healed,” she said brightly, and Fin stopped her.

“You didn't ask Asher to heal your foot, did you?” he said, his eyes narrow.

“No,” she said defensively. “He just showed up in the middle of the night and fixed it.” Hailey's stomach dropped. “Why?”

“Because,” he cautioned her, “if you ask for a favor from an Envoy, it's like handing them an eternal free pass into your head. They basically make you their immortal slave forever and ever amen.”

“Well, I don't think I asked him . . . I mean, I remember talking to him in my dream, but I don't remember what we said.”

“Oh, you'd remember.”

“He's mad at me again, anyway,” Hailey said glumly. “I told him you were taking me to Anchorage, and he just left. He slammed the door.”

Fin laughed out loud.

Hailey shot him a sharp look. “It's not funny.”

“Ohhhhh,” Fin sighed heartily. “Sorry,” he said, still tickled.

“Do you know where Giselle is?” she asked to change the subject. She hadn't seen her roommate since the carnivorous splinter incident.

“I don't know—sharpening her demon teeth?”

Hailey rolled her eyes, and Fin held his hands up as they approached Olde Main.

“I have no idea what that thing does,” he told her, opening the door. “You're in Lab 1, which is down there.” He pointed to a hallway that was stretching and compressing like a horizontal slinky. “I'm upstairs, so I'll catch up with you later,” he said, walking backwards as he spoke, and Hailey waved.

Wearing her wellies, Bear Towne sweatpants, and a “Where the heck is The Middle of Nowhere” sweatshirt, she shuffled into Lab 1 a full ten minutes early. It would have been fifteen, but she'd stopped in the girl's bathroom to fuss over her hair, which Tomas had insisted she wear down.

After thirty minutes of staring at the door, waiting for Asher to arrive, Hailey gave up and decided to pay a visit to Dr. Woodfork, whose office was also on the first floor.

She found his door slightly ajar and heard the unmistakable boom of Asher's voice coming from inside.

“Get rid of her, Simeon, or I will,” he almost roared.

Shoot. Is he talking about me?

He stormed into the hallway but stopped abruptly when he saw Hailey. His mouth turned down, and he tilted his head away from her.

“You will leave this place,” he said with ice in his voice.

Her heart fell. Eyebrows squished together, she glanced at Dr. Woodfork for an explanation, but he avoided her.

She swallowed hard. “I . . .no. I will
not
,” she said, looking Asher up and down.

When he put his face in hers like a drill sergeant, she pulled her head back slightly but refused to back away, even as her throat tightened. She stared at him defiantly, and he stared back, a thunderstorm of dark violet clouds rumbling to life inside his eyes.

Then, as suddenly as the storm in his eyes erupted, it dissipated, and his face softened.

“It's no longer safe for you here,” he said gently, and he dropped his gaze then walked out, leaving Hailey stunned into silence and staring after him.

She turned to Professor Woodfork, following him into his office as he retreated. “What was that?” she breathed, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Oh, dear,” said the professor, sighing deeply as he sat pensively at his desk. “Ah, don't worry,” he said brightly. “I don't believe he truly wishes for you to leave. Come,” He motioned her to a leather armchair near a woodstove. “I'll conduct your first lab. Let's have a short discussion about Envoys, shall we?”

Standing, he plucked a book from his shelf and placed it into Hailey's hands. “He'll probably know that I've given you this—he can see into my mind, but he doesn't always look. Still, best if you didn't mention it to him,” he warned, and Hailey nodded.

She ran her hand over the gilded leather cover. It was obviously an antique, an objet d'art in remarkable condition, and a book he'd written himself—a chronicle penned in an elegant old script. She hungrily scanned the first couple pages, picking out the gist of the story of the Envoys.

During the seventeenth century B.C., a king among men became obsessed with the Aether, the realm, which holds life energy, as he believed he could harness and wield its power. What few records survive, indicate the king conducted barbaric experiments in his effort to understand the Aether, oftentimes slaughtering his slaves while they slept.

Through a series of increasingly larger explosions, the king succeeded in tearing the barrier between the worlds. It remained open for several seconds, during which a vortex pulled many Envoys from their home in the Aether and hurled them onto the Earth.

Fascinated, Hailey flipped to the center of the book.

Seven of the Envoys pulled across the veil made contact with humans: Theon the Loyal, Asher the Benevolent, Cobon the Clever, Kiya the Serene, Adalwolf the Veracious . . .

Flipping again, she found what she was looking for.

An Envoy is devoid of emotion, incapable of experiencing what we call “feelings.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

A Dark Tunnel

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

- William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Hailey stood, staring at those lines, lips parted as some mix of disbelief and horror bubbled in her stomach.

 . . .devoid of emotion . . .

That . . .couldn't be right. Could it?

Asher certainly had at least anger figured out. And he cared about her—he'd said so.

“You'll read this then and return it to me once you've finished,” Woodfork instructed, and Hailey nodded slowly, unable to tear her eyes from those words.

“But . . .Professor,” she said in a small voice, “this can't be . . .” If Asher had no emotions, he could betray her tomorrow and never think twice about it. A twinge of fear in her belly robbed her breath.

She looked up at Woodfork, shaking her head.

“It's a long story,” he said. “You'll read the rest, yes?”

“But—”

“And return it to me once you've finished.” Woodfork turned his back, gathering some objects into a bag as Hailey stared, slack-jawed and unable to spit out a thought.

“That'll do for an Envoy discussion for one day.”

“But—”

“And now . . .” He spun around, smiling. “Let's go explore a dark tunnel.”

“Asher told me to stay out of the dark tunnels.”

“Huh,” he grunted. “He does worry after you. But! You'll be perfectly safe. All we need is a robust spirit of adventure.” He dug around inside one of his desk drawers. “Aha! And some portable light.” He held up an Indispensable flashlight. “Our back-up will be the Indispensable Never-Fail Lighter,” he said, handing her a small bronze object.

“What is . . .how does it work?” The whole thing was smooth. She couldn't even tell where the flame would come out.

“With breath,” he said, and Hailey frowned. “As if you're blowing out a birthday candle, like so.” He took the lighter, and holding it out from his mouth, he blew a puff of air against it whereupon a giant flame popped into the air over the professor's head, as if it belonged to an invisible torch. He handed the lighter back to Hailey, and the torch-less flame floated over her head.

“How do you put it out?” she asked, never taking her eye off the fire above her. “And where's its fuel source?” She turned all around, still looking up at it, trying to figure it out.

“Simply hold your breath,” he told her, which she did with one eyebrow raised. To her astonishment, the flame snapped out.

“How is that possible? I mean, where's the fuel?”

“Oh, you are a delight! A healthy dose of skepticism is always in order when one studies the science of the paranormal,” he told her. “After you,” he said as he opened his door.

She adjusted her backpack, and—

Wait. He was trying to distract her from asking about Asher. And she was falling for it!

Well enough of that.

She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated a bit too long.

“The fuel source is the Sun,” said the professor. “The Indispensable Lighter is simply a precision barrier breaker—a bomb of sorts.”

“A bomb?”

And once again, her curiosity betrayed her.

Woodfork nodded, indicating her to lead the way down the stairs of Olde Main.

“Indeed. It opens a discrete in-between, which doubles back on itself, effectively folding our dimension so that a bit of the fires from near the surface of our sun come through. And it attaches its position to the breath of the one holding the lighter—quite a feat of para-engineering. That was Pádraig's project when he first arrived here. He's been a very productive student for the Indispensable brand.”

“Indispensable makes a lot of things I've never heard of,” Hailey remarked as they reached the tunnels.

“Yes, well, of course it's the University's brand. Not much demand for it outside of the paranormal world, but our devices are wildly popular among the supernatural creatures of Earth. They sell very well in the hidden places of this world,” he said proudly. “Let's try this one.” Professor Woodfork pointed down a dark tunnel to the right, which emitted a low, mournfully spooky cry.

Hailey peered into the darkness. “What do you think is down there?”

“Let's find out, shall we?” He clicked on his flashlight, and Hailey blew a puff of air onto the lighter, igniting the nuclear sun-torch above her head.

Down the tunnel they went. As the moaning grew louder, it took on a more pathetic tone, like a cry for help. Soon they were right on top of the noise, but Hailey saw nothing that could be causing such a racket.

“Aha!” said Dr. Woodfork. “A moaning bookworm. Well, this isn't normal.”

Hailey side-eyed him. Nothing about Bear Towne was normal, and she wondered if the professor knew that.

“You see,” continued the professor as Hailey squatted next to him, “he's bookless . . .and it appears . . .” With his thumb and forefinger, the professor touched what looked like a fat inch-worm and raised a tiny object. “Yes. You see, it appears his eyeglasses are broken,” he explained, showing Hailey a teeny pair of spectacles. “We'll get these straight over to I-MET for repair, and then we'll bring them back along with a book.”

He handed the tiny glasses to Hailey. “Otherwise, if we were to neglect this little guy, he'd morph into a tunneling earworm—I believe you're familiar?”

Hailey nodded.

“You see, the dark tunnels are where various creatures come when they have . . .issues. Second-year students spend an entire semester sorting out the ones they can, and of course avoiding the ones that are too far gone.

“Those,” he said, waving his finger in the air, “are the ones that become killers.” He held up his flashlight. “They hate the light. As you can see,” he told her as he shined a light on the bookworm, “our little friend here does not shy away from the light, and so he's still redeemable.”

“What do bookworms do?”

“Read, mostly. And drink tea.”

“Out of tiny cups?” Hailey tried to imagine it.

“Actually—and you'll find this in the library—they can suck down a normal size cuppa in less than a second—it's remarkable to witness. It does make them swell, though, and some of them swell to an enormous size. But, they are very gentle creatures,” he said as he started down the main corridor.

Soon they'd be topside again, and Hailey would miss her chance to ask what she really wanted to know. Or not know. Truthfully, she didn't want to confirm what she'd read, and he'd probably just shut her down again anyway, but it was now or never.

“Professor,” Hailey said, gathering her courage, “you wrote in your book that Envoys are emotionless . . .” She drew a breath but chewed her lip, rethinking this whole line of talk as she envisioned Asher listening in through Woodfork's head.

“You want to know if Asher is capable of love.”

“Yeah . . .” she sighed, feeling exposed. “I mean, he seemed to want me here yesterday, but now it seems he's just kicked me out of the university.”

“As you'll read in my chronicles, the Envoys came to this Earth devoid of emotion, but as the centuries passed, they became infected with feelings. It's new to Asher—to feel. In a lot of ways, he is emotionally like a child—very easily injured. Be patient with him, Hailey. I believe his feelings for you are genuine.”

The tunnel opened to the Olde Main stairwell, and Dr. Woodfork led them into the darkness behind the stairs, where a large, rusty door hung with the letters I-MET painted in bright white.

Inside sat a crooked reception desk and a few tattered chairs under dim light, like the waiting room of a haunted doctor's office. The professor tapped a “ring for service” bell, which called forth a shrouded figure, who held his hand out as if he were expecting them.

“This won't take long,” the professor told Hailey after the ghoulish figure disappeared.

“Do you know where I can find Asher?” Hailey couldn't stand it when someone was mad at her. Mostly, she wanted to straighten out her expulsion and find out why it was suddenly “unsafe” for her there. Honestly, she thought she'd handled things pretty darn well so far. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more her Irish blood boiled. He had a lot of nerve expelling her!

“The Observatory, I believe,” Woodfork answered as I-MET presented a repaired set of teeny eyeglasses. The ghoul also handed the professor a paperback book.

Hailey frowned as they made their way back to the dark tunnel. “The Observatory's off limits to students, isn't it?”

“Yes, and I would
not
disturb him there.” He handed her the glasses.

Very gently, she placed them onto the face of the bookworm and set the paperback in front of him. Immediately, the groaning stopped—the worm flipped open the book—and both the book and the worm vanished.

“Where'd he go?”

“The library, most likely.” Woodfork beamed at Hailey. “Well done.”

Following her successful rehabilitation of the moaning bookworm in a dark tunnel, Hailey had every intention of disturbing Asher at the observatory, and headed out the doors of Olde Main via the red-buttoned out-between with quite a bone to pick.

Marching to the Observatory with an increasingly quickened pace, she swatted all thirty-five species of Alaskan mosquitos as she went, trying but failing to reach a particularly hungry one attached to the middle of her back. By the time she reached the off-limits building, she didn't hesitate to barge inside to escape the hungry swarm of bloodsuckers.

“Asher!” she called.

She got no answer from the Envoy at the top of the mezzanine, who looked through a telescope in the middle of the day, undisturbed by her yells.

“You've got a lot of nerve—ignoring me now . . .after . . .” She had to catch her breath. “ . . .if you . . .think I'm leaving this . . .place . . .”

The room swayed a bit, and she staggered.

“ . . .I'm not . . .afraid of you . . . You're . . .” She couldn't believe she had to catch her breath again. “ . . .I'm not . . .” She forgot what she wanted to say and blinked hard before falling to her knees.

Asher landed with a metallic clang on the grating in front of Hailey, and she squinted to see him. Fingers of blackness crept around her eyes as Asher helped her crumple gently to the floor.

“Asher . . .” she breathed. “ . . .I don't . . .feel . . .” As numbness spread down her legs and pins and needles jabbed her hands, Asher pulled a quill from Hailey's back.

“It's poison,” he said with no emotion, and then he paced away from her, looking thoughtfully skyward.

“Asher . . .” Hailey cried between gasps. She tried reaching out to him, but her arm didn't budge. “Asher?” she called again, but he didn't budge, either, and darkness caved in over Hailey.