Two Halves Series (62 page)

He read my face. “Seekers?”

“Lots of seekers.”

“Do you have your abilities?”

I pushed my feet, zooming across the room and back. It felt good knowing I wasn’t completely useless.

“William, there are thousands of them.” When I floated through the grand hall with my mother, the seekers gathered like a colony of ants. “I can’t float or pass through walls. I’m not sure what they can do to a ghost that’s solidified. And you . . .” My voice shook, the heat of their searing palms was still fresh in my mind.

“I don’t think we have much choice. I need you to promise me that, no matter what happens, you’ll keep going,” he said solemnly.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Promise me. I need to know you won’t give up. For our children and for humanity.”

My face felt drained of blood. “Does this have something to do with your secret?”

“Promise?” he pleaded.

“I do.”

Was I foolish to believe William could fight Aseret’s army? The thought of the grand hall froze my spine. Its burned bridges and the lava underneath . . . even a ghost couldn’t escape the bubbling flow of magma.

William took my hand as we stepped into the blossoming bushes. The aroma of the black roses soon left an acidic film on my tongue. I took another whiff while passing the last stem, and the stench of dirty socks and rotten eggs abused my nostrils. Since I expected we’d exit into an adjoining hall in the underworld, the smell didn’t surprise me.

Instead, we stood in the middle of the hell I’d been thinking about on a swinging bridge roped to rotting posts, over a river of molten rock and lava, near the central fire pit of the grand hall.

Chapter 12

We didn’t move. The throne was empty, but Aseret’s absence didn’t ease my anxiety. Throughout the hall, seekers and demons worked on their assigned tasks, clearly oblivious to our presence. Some trained; others repaired the damaged structures used to connect the two ends of the grand hall. A bridge adjacent to ours, broken midway along its span and dangling from thread-thin ropes, hung too low to cross.

Magma, its level higher than I remembered, bubbled and spat deadly blobs of lava upward. Its orange glow illuminated the hall, softening the light from the hundreds of candles on the chandelier above. The seekers’ sulphuric stench flowed through the hall in waves of sweat, drowning all other scents. How could anyone stand breathing the acidic air? It’d take a minute or so before our scent reached the seekers’ terrier-sharp noses, through their own toxic stench.

William pulled something out of his pocket. “Put it on. If it works, you should be a ghost again. Go,” he whispered, sliding my ruby ring onto my finger.

My hands disappeared. The ring retained its power to show the true form of its wearer. It was the same ring we’d used to trick Miranda in the past, to show her real form when she stole my body.

“What about you? We need to get to the dungeons,” I whispered.

Though William controlled his breathing and kept it shallow, beads of sweat rolled down his temples. It wouldn’t take long for the seekers to recognize his smell.

“I’ll follow soon. I just have to deal with them.” He nodded toward the end of the bridge, where seekers concentrated on adding ropes to the existing supports to strengthen the structure.

Even if William ran at his fastest speed, he wouldn’t make it to the dungeons. “I won’t leave you. You cannot do this by yourself,” I insisted.

“I can’t fight them if I have to protect you, too. Now go.”

“I don’t need protection. I will
not
leave you. Stay still.” With caution, I moved forward on the bridge, hoping my invisible feet wouldn’t make it sway. I couldn’t float; the ring seemed powerless to confer all of my ghostly abilities. The seekers at the end of the bridge were absorbed in tying one knot after another. My soundless footsteps carried my ghost as I approached. The demon eyes remained on the ropes; I squeezed past them, then tiptoed away, freezing when a seeker lifted its head and sniffed the air.

My eyes fell on a rock at my feet; moving slowly, carefully, I picked it up and threw it toward one of the doorways into the maze, well away from the direction I intended to go. The rock tumbled down the stairs. The grand hall fell silent except for the echo of a stone that bounced off the wall. All eyes concentrated on the doorway. The seekers left the bridge and moved toward the entrance to investigate the mysterious sound.

William sprang forward. The talented noses of Aseret’s army inhaled in unison, their chests expanding at the same time. I felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room with a giant’s straw. The seeker’s gazes darted to William, who’d reached the rock footing securing the bridge. Some of the seekers rushed to block all of the doorways, while others launched themselves at William.

I had no doubt he’d handle the first few, but more would attack in their wake. Those were already charging forward behind the leaders, screeching and releasing high-pitched yelps when comrades plummeted into the fissures bisecting the floor.

“If you don’t remember me, you will now,” I heard him growl as he shoved them into the lava-filled cracks. William’s ferocity and power were a combination few could overcome, but even my husband couldn’t fight thousands.

This is a suicide mission.

The grinning demons hung back, waiting with their arms crossed for their chance to attack. They’d probably let the seekers tire William before they used their powers. From beyond the doorway, I watched his defensive moves against their scorching paws and claws that sliced his arms and torso. I cringed at each cut, even though I knew they’d heal quickly. William threw one seeker after another into the lava below, their ashes floating like black feathers in an updraft only moments later. But he was nearing the brink of the crevice, getting closer to the edge.

Another dozen seekers approached William. He looked behind him, a yard remained, and he shoved a seeker at his side into the two behind it. All three dropped and tumbled, screeching and yelping, into the fissure. William had taken another step back.

Straining to keep my nerves intact, I picked up a rock and threw it toward the same entrance as before, but only a few of the seekers inspected where the sound came from.

William’s scent for these creatures was like that of a bleeding seal in a bay full of sharks. I took a step forward to help him, drawing several pairs of glowing eyes my way.

Sarah, stay there,
Eric warned.

I whirled around but didn’t see my evil-bender.
You need to help him.

I know. You go where you’re supposed to,
he ordered.

Before I turned to go to Miranda’s lair, I saw William wobbling on the brink of the fissure. A seeker pushed one of its fellows into William. Arms waving in an attempt to keep his balance, William lost the battle with gravity. He toppled into the crevice. The hiss of singeing fibers and flesh preceded the smell of burnt flesh mingled with woody musk. Wisps of yellow mist rose toward the ceiling of the grand hall.

“Go!”
Eric yelled.

Shock made me an automaton. I fled.

* * *

My feet led me down the circular staircase into the dungeon. Instead of following the tunnel to Miranda’s lair, I skidded to the right, into the third cell, where Aseret had imprisoned me four years before. The fog-like spell that bound me at the doorway four years ago didn’t confine me this time; I chose to stay in the murky room. My back pressed against the farthest wall, my legs pulled up to my chest, my arms wrapped around them. I removed my ring so I could sob and mourn my husband. My skin throbbed as shivers of grief rose from my toes to the tips of my fingers. My jaw shook, and I rested my chin against my knees, trying to stop its trembling. It didn’t help.

I stroked my blue orchid tattoo. My moans returned, floods of tears sheeting down my cheeks. The vigorous shaking of my body made me gasp for air. The walls of the room felt as if they’d closed in to the size of a coffin. Part of me wanted to run up to the grand hall and give myself to the seekers, let them throw my ghostly flesh into the river of lava so I could join William in the afterlife.

Even when things seem like life is not worth living, it is. You’ll need to be strong.

Honoring William’s plea seemed impossible. Would I see his ghost beside me in a few minutes? I recalled Miranda’s story and realized his spirit could never return to his body. He’d be lost in the hereafter. Could he even find me as a ghost?

Miranda. The pain shooting through my body turned toward the witch. The rage I’d forgotten returned. Adrenaline overpowered my veins. A growl came unbidden from the back of my throat. Inside, the anger brewed, steeped with guilt and the feeling that I’d failed to protect my family. Focused on revenge, I’d ensure the witch could never hurt my family again. The ire built to a frenzy under my skin, tingling. It moved into my organs, tightened around my arms and the back of my neck. The need for vindication fueled me further; it was exactly what I needed to ensure that Miranda died.

Body taut, I stood, fists clenched, and screamed until my lungs felt like they’d burst. The dungeon walls shook. Pebbles dribbled to the floor and rolled around my feet. I didn’t care if anyone heard. In fact, I wanted to be heard.

Finally, I stopped, lips quivering, and slowly regained my composure. Bending, I ripped a strip from my pant leg, then pulled my ring from my pocket. I slipped it on my finger, then wrapped the strip of material around my palm, leaving my ring finger exposed, all before my ghostly form returned.

I headed toward Miranda’s cell, silent fury fueling my determination. Leaning forward, I sped toward the wall at the end of the tunnel. Before I reached it, an entry opened and the witch’s ghost stood in the entrance to her cave, hands on her hips. Her smirk faded when she saw me.

Game time
.

“You’re a ghost . . . who dared take off my spell? Was it Xela?”

I grinned.

“Hannah?” She floated closer. One more step and she’d touch me, but she cautiously drifted out of reach.

I shook my head, my arms crossed, and showed no fear. Miranda would think she had the upper hand.

“No one’s strong enough to remove my spell. What are you hiding?” She glided around me with caution.

“You and I need to talk. Won’t you invite me in?” I faked a sweet voice reminiscent of the old me.

Startled, Miranda moved aside, still careful not to get close as I entered her lair. “You know you’re not getting out of here,” she said.

“I don’t care. My husband just died. The quicker I leave for the hereafter, the better. I need you to send me there.”

The wall behind us slid and shut, rock grinding against rock. I hovered near the fireplace, for the first time understanding the reason underworld creatures tended to have one near. The heat energized me. It sizzled courage and dominance. Not many could face off against such a natural force, or control it.

My gaze found my mother’s drained ghost tied to the wall with magic ropes of light. Her head hung between hunched shoulders, and her silhouette was beyond translucent; it was almost invisible. I wanted to rush over and remove her bonds, but I focused on appearing indifferent. Her eyelids fluttered open, and the burden of her pain was reflected in her hazel eyes. Shifting slightly so that my back was to Miranda, I let my expression show my mother my concern and that she needed to remain quiet.

The witch’s book of magic rested on the table in the middle of the room, its pages opened to a spell. Detailed drawings of knots and ropes woven between ancient words filled the paper.

When I turned to face Miranda, the witch still seemed confused. “Hmm . . . ” She put her finger to her lips. “William dead?” She narrowed her ghostly brows. “I shall welcome him soon. What about the twins? Where are they?”

“I haven’t seen them in days.” I lowered my head, feigning despair. “It’s like they abandoned me too.”

“You’re lying?” Her accusation came in the form of a question.

Good; I needed her to be skeptical.

“Why? I’ve lost my husband. I’ve lost my children. I
want
to go to the hereafter. There’s nothing left for me!” I raised my arms. “Nothing!”

“I told you, you’re not leaving this place alive.” Miranda rushed at me and grabbed my ghost’s arm. “You will not leave this place until Aseret has his say. You will be the perfect bait. Ha! Stupid, silly half-breed,” she hissed, her grin exposing crooked teeth. Even as a ghost, the witch held her persona.

“What are you doing?” The charade became easier with each minute that Miranda thought she controlled my actions.

“You think I’d let you leave and not use the energy of a half-breed vampire who’s been touched by the keepers?” She wafted toward the table, gliding her hand along the dagger that rested beside the book of spells.

“They never touched me.”

“Physically, no, but the magic is present in your essence. It runs in your family. You may not feel it, but we do. We always have. Not all has been transferred to the twins. Not all.”

With caution, I slid my other hand behind my back and slipped the ring off my finger, knowing Miranda’s touch had just done the opposite of what she wanted to accomplish. I hoped it would take just as long for me to change into a true ghost as it did for her original curse to work. Phasing into a ghost before she left would ruin my plan. And Miranda would leave; after all, my children were vulnerable and she’d want to brag to Aseret.

“Ha! I’m getting better at this,” she gloated.

But it wasn’t her magic that turned my ghost into flesh.

She moved toward the wall and shut the secret entrance. “Can’t float through walls anymore, can you?” The witch grinned as she rushed toward the end of the cave.

Not yet,
I thought, but I played along, trying to pass through, bumping into the wall, then the table.

Her form started to pass through the wall.

“Wait, where are you going? You can’t leave me here.” I pretended to panic.