Spirit Page 10
“To never age, never grow old, never die,” I said, and again he nodded. I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly very weak. “What about the ones who did die before they came here?”
“They were kinslayers, oathbreakers, and kinbetrayers. Their fate, their path, still led to the Outlands,” Gwyn said.
After a few moments of quiet, I said, “Gwyn, if I ask you something, will you answer me truthfully?”
“The Fae cannot lie,” he said, the same line every Fae ever said when asked that question. It was well practiced.
“Right,” I said, very tired all of a sudden.
“Ask your question, Shayna.” He made my name sound as lovely as Liam used to. I tried to push thoughts of my vampire out of my head, but my stomach still knotted.
“Is there an edge to the Outlands?”
Gwyn didn’t answer me at first. For a few moments, he just stared at me, expressionless. The black of his eyes seemed like some abyss I could fall into if I’d let myself. When I wouldn’t look away or break the silence, Gwyn turned away from me. I watched him, my eyes trailing down the near endless length of his hair, just waiting. I thought maybe he wouldn’t answer me, that maybe he was waiting for me to just give up and leave, but I had nowhere to go, so I was willing to play this waiting game.
“I don’t know,” he finally said, his voice a rough whisper in the quiet. “I was told there was one, a long time ago; I was told the same fable I told you.” He turned and looked at me, fixing me with those obsidian eyes. Anger and loss showed plainly on his face. “I have been looking for it ever since.”
I sat there, dumbstruck, staring at him, waiting for him to tell me this was some stupid joke. Gwyn just stared back at me, letting his words sink in.
“How…” I stumbled over my words. “I don’t understand. You’re the Hunt Master; how can you look for the edge of the Outlands? You said yourself once the Hunt has you, there is no escape.”
“I did say that,” he agreed, “and that is true, but the Hunt does not have me; I am not the Hunt Master.”
“What?” I demanded. I felt a headache start to form between my eyes.
“I was banished here, just the same as you.”
“But all of these, these, whatever,” I waved toward the entrance to the tent just as he had done, “they follow you. You led the charge on Jacob.”
“You are half right,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “They follow me, yes, because they have no one else to follow. As I’ve traveled through these lands, I have found those running from the Hunt and the beasts of these lands, and they have joined me. But I lead no charges. The Hunt has not caught me. I find no joy, no peace, in hunting.”
“You carry a spear,” I pointed out.
“If you were on your own in this world, would you carry a weapon?” he asked, tilting his head toward me.
“Well, yeah, I guess. So they have all been caught by the Hunt, they’re part of the Slaugh now, but you’re not?”
“Yes.”
“Do they know?”
“Yes,” he said. “Which is why they keep their distance from me.”
“It looks like they follow you,” I pressed.
“Because they have no one else to follow. If one of them got it into his head to lead, he could and the rest would follow him, leaving me behind. I have magic and power here, whereas many do not, so they see me as someone powerful. Therefore, I am someone to follow.”
I rubbed my temples, closing my eyes and trying to let this all sink in. Gwyn, thankfully, stayed quiet while I regrouped my thoughts. His news was just a little more than I could take as exhausted as I was.
With my eyes still closed, fingers still pressed into my temples, I said, “So, that’s why you didn’t tell me how to find the edge. You have no idea.”
“Yes.”
I opened my eyes and saw anger on his face. “How long have you been looking?”
“Forever.”
***
I walked out of Gwyn’s tent, throwing the flap behind me as if I could slam it like a door. Gwyn stood stock still as I stormed out, not even his eyes following me. Balor had jumped up and rushed out after me. I had so many questions, but I was so angry I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight; all I wanted to do was run at him and pound my fists into his stolid face until it broke.
He owed me nothing, not even the truth, but finding out he had kept such a huge secret from me made something inside of me snap. I had stayed with this group for safety and to cover more ground, but Gwyn had been searching for the edge for years without finding it. For all I knew, we were going in circles. If I had left nights ago, I might’ve figured out the magic of this place and been that much closer to the edge.
“All that time wasted,” I muttered through gritted teeth, making Balor swing his head toward me. His fuzzy eyebrows raised in question. I found a deserted fire and fell to the ground to sit by it, Balor flopping down at my side. He nudged my arm with his large snout, forcing it up until he could tuck his head under my hand. I scratched behind his ears absentmindedly, which seemed to make him more than content as he rested his chin on my thigh.
“Can’t trust any damn faeries,” I grumbled. Balor huffed and whined. “Oh, I’m sorry, Balor.” I softened my voice for him. “Not you. Faerie hounds are obviously the exception.” Balor huffed again and I couldn’t help but chuckle, ruffling the top of his head, but his fur was too short to muss.
I sat there and took in the fire’s heat, letting the warmth work out some of my tension. I listened to Balor breathing beside me. Maybe when I left, he would come with me. Having some company would be nice; especially the company of a massive hunting dog that could take down a horse.
I heard footsteps behind me. Assuming Gwyn was coming to make amends, I refused to look over my shoulder, staring resolutely into the flames. When the small, water sprite woman came into view beside me, lugging her cauldron, I was startled. She didn’t look at me; she didn’t even act like she knew I was there. She just swung her cauldron around, sloshing out some of the water in her effort, and plopped it into the middle of fire, making the embers swirl up and the wood splinter. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since before the earlier ride. I hoped she was making some food and would let me have some.
She threw something like a powder into the caldron, causing a small explosion. The water within began to steam and bubble. She walked around to stand in front of me, her heavily lined face set in a permanent scowl. Her pointy fingers were laced together in front of her as she waited. So many nights it had been me seeking her out that to have her come find me was strange.
“Yes?” I finally asked. I didn’t like her just standing there, staring down at me.
“Would she look?” she asked.
“What?” I blinked up at her.
“She said she wanted to look. Here’s the chance; would she look?” she asked again, and I realized what she was saying.
“Wait, seriously, you’re gonna show me my home? Finally?” I asked, scrambling to my feet. Balor huffed loudly, a puff of dust swirling up as he settled his head on top of his paws.
“If she looks,” the woman said again, waving one hand toward the caldron. I moved over to the edge of the fire so that I could look down into the caldron. The surface of the water looked as clear as a mirror, showing me my own reflection.
“Does it show whatever I want?” I asked.
“See what you wants to see,” she said, an edge of annoyance to her voice.
“All right,” I said, hoping I understood.
“See what you see,” she said, holding up one pointy finger, “but remember what I says: You can’t reach thems through the water.”
“I remember.” I nodded, holding my breath.
“You may regrets it,” she said, squinting at me, challenging me.
“I won’t,” I said confidently.
“Meh.” She waved a hand at me in dismissal. She didn’t believe me, but that was fine. She di
dn’t know me. To her, I was just some lost human in the faerie world. I wouldn’t believe me either if I was her. I bounced impatiently on the balls of my feet as she watched me. Balor whined like he thought this was a bad idea too, but I paid him no heed.
“Thinks about who you wants to see,” she instructed. She waved her hand over the surface of the water. I watched as the mirrored surface fogged over, rippling inward and out until it cleared again. My mind reeled as I tried to decide what I wanted to see, afraid she’d only give me this one chance. Finally I thought about the night Steven banished me, and that moment took hold of my mind. I watched as Anthony’s apartment came into focus, and I could see Steven standing there, talking to Anthony. My pulse thundered in my ears and my throat began to tighten just as tears welled in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks.
Chapter 8
The noise of the slamming door still echoed in the room, along with my cries for Steven to stop, cursing him for not hearing me.
“Dude, Steven, tell me you heard it that time?” Anthony said.
“I did hear something that time.” Steven reached for the doorknob, starting to unlock it, but Anthony was there, his hands on top of Steven’s.
“Do not open that door!” Anthony said. “If you got it to go, then let it stay gone.”
“But…” Steven started to argue, but his voice trailed off. “Maybe that was a mistake,” he whispered.
“What?” Anthony asked, shaking his head at Steven.
“Earlier today, remember when Jodi and I went into Shay’s room?” Anthony nodded. “Well, we were talking about Shay and we started to argue and all of a sudden we heard something and then the light on her desk flickered.” Anthony just stared at him for a few moments before Steven walked back to the couch.
“So what if a light flickered in her room?” Anthony asked, following him.
“It’s just a weird coincidence, you know?” Steven said as he sat on the couch, pulling his legs up under him and gripping a throw pillow to his chest.
“No, I don’t know.” Anthony sat on the couch as well, sitting sideways so he could look at Steven. “How is a light flickering in Shay’s old bedroom and my TV turning a coincidence?”
“Because your TV didn’t just turn. It turned on and off and then moved.” Steven glanced sideways at the offending TV.
“I’m not following,” Anthony said at little slowly, like he was worried about Steven.
“I think maybe Shayna’s trying to reach out to me,” Steven said bluntly, clutching the pillow until his knuckles were white and ducking his head so all I could see were his too-big, brown eyes peeking over.
“Steven--” Anthony started to say, but when Steven shook his head at him, he went quiet.
“I know I sound crazy to you,” Steven said.
“No,” Anthony said slowly, as if he really did think Steven sounded crazy.
“I know I sound crazy to you,” Steven repeated, “and if it had just been the lamp, or it had just been your TV, I wouldn’t think anything of it, but both?” He paused to shake his head again. “No, both is too much. I mean, your TV moved, Anthony!”
“I know,” Anthony said, glancing toward the television. “Maybe it was an earthquake?”
“That we didn’t feel but was strong enough to move the TV?” Steven picked his head up from behind the pillow.
“Yeah…” Anthony sighed and pulled his eyes away from the television. “So, what then?”
“I’m not sure,” Steven said. “I tried to talk to Jodi about it, but she just acted like I was crazy and walked out.”
“Well, Steven,” Anthony said gently, placing a hand on his knee, “most people don’t believe in ghosts and hauntings and things like that.” That made me smirk; Steven hadn’t felt comfortable telling Anthony our secrets, which I was fine with, but it looked like the time had come to enlighten him.
“Tread carefully, Drake,” I said as if he could hear me.
“I, uh,” Steven stuttered, and I knew he was trying to build up the courage to say the words crowding in his throat. “I have to tell you something.”
“Okay,” Anthony replied, taking his hand back and folding them in his lap. I knew if I could still feel emotions, the air would suddenly be full of static, putting my nerves on end with anticipation and a little bit of fear.
Steven began, “Jodi should believe me. See, we – Jodi, Shayna, and I – have always believed in ‘things like that.’”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Steven cleared his throat, “we believe in things like that because we can do magic.” With the words out of his mouth, hanging in the air between them, Steven froze, waiting for Anthony’s reaction.
“You can do magic?” Anthony repeated, tilting his head to the side, making sure he heard him correctly.
“Yes.” Steven’s voice was a little surer, as if he took strength from finally saying the words. Now he couldn’t turn back; now he had to finish. “Shayna was really, really powerful, more than Jodi and I ever were, but we can all do things. Shayna could control the Earth.”
“The Earth?” Anthony interrupted, his eyes wide.
“Well, not like the whole Earth, but she can control Earth,” he said as if that explained things. “And Jodi can control Air.”
“And what about you?”
“I can control Fire.”
“Fire?”
“Yeah,” Steven said, “that’s why I’m never cold. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed that.”
“I have noticed,” Anthony said slowly. He wasn’t freaking out yet, which was good, but his eyes were still wide and his words slow, so I knew it was only a matter of time. I was just worried about how badly he’d freak out.
“Okay, look, I know this sounds crazy--” Steven began again, but Anthony cut him off with a laugh.
“Oh, thank God! I was worried you were being serious!” Anthony laid a hand on his chest as he rocked back.
“Anthony,” Steven said, stopping Anthony from laughing, “I am being serious.”
“Look, sweetie,” Anthony said, putting his hand on Steven’s knee again, “you’re upset about Shay’s death. I get it. You just have to deal with your emotions, you know?”
“Do you have a candle?” Steven asked, his face hard.
“A candle? Yeah, uh, why?”
“Get it for me.”
Anthony watched Steven’s face for a moment before he stood, keeping his eyes on Steven a little too long. Steven just stared back, arms crossed over his pillow.
“Be careful, Drake,” I said. “Just don’t scare him.”
Anthony left and came back with a short, thin, white candle, the kind you keep in a disaster kit. The wick was still white and coated in wax. He looked confused as he handed it to Steven, but Steven kept his mouth shut when he took it. Steven inhaled through his nose, held it for a moment, and then exhaled through his mouth, blowing at the candle. The wax on the wick melted away before it flamed to life. Steven’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. I think, just for a moment, he was worried it wouldn’t work since he and Jodi had felt their powers fading away. But lighting candles with his breath was always something he could do, even before he met us, and emotions always powered our abilities. Right now, he was pissed.
We both looked at Anthony for his reaction. He stood there, staring down at the lit candle, slack jawed as if someone had punched him in the gut. His eyes flicked from Steven’s face to the candle and back again, and yet he couldn’t seem to find anything to say. He closed his mouth and swallowed audibly, blinking rapidly. When he opened his mouth again, only unintelligible sounds came out.
“So,” Steven said, saving Anthony from finding something to say, “like I said, we can do magic and I control Fire.”
Anthony collapsed on the edge of the coffee table, still staring stupidly at the burning candle. Unable to help himself, Anthony reached out and passed his fingertips through the flame.
“Don’t do that,” Steven said, pulling th
e candle back before he blew it out. He tested the wax to make sure it wouldn’t keep dripping before he set it on the coffee table next to Anthony. Steven stood up and paced the room.
“Um, I don’t even know what to say right now,” Anthony finally said, though he didn’t turn to look at Steven.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I’ll answer them, I promise.” Steven spun on his heel and started to make the track back through the room. “But I don’t really have time right now. I just need you to understand I’m not bullshitting you. Jodi, Shay and I can all do magic, but since Shay died, something has happened to Jodi and me, and we’re suffering for it.”
“What do you mean?” Anthony’s voice sounded a little stronger.
“I’m not even really sure, but Jodi doesn’t have as much control over her powers now and mine are weakening, and she’s acting really weird.”
“How so?”
“Like she doesn’t want to be around me.”
“She probably just needs some space.” Anthony stood up and moved toward Steven but then seemed to have second thoughts about actually reaching out for him. “You probably just remind her of Shay too much right now, you know?”
“Maybe,” Steven said dismissively. “But that’s not the part I’m worried the most about right now.”
“What is then?”
“The electronics acting weird around me.” Steven took a breath. “I really think Shay is trying to reach out to me.”
“Like her spirit?”
“Yes, like she needs help, and she’s trying to make contact with me.”
“Wait, if you think that was Shay, then why did you do that whole exorcism thing?” Anthony asked, his face a mask of confusion.
“A banishing,” Steven corrected.
“What?”
“I didn’t do an exorcism; I banished the entity,” Steven said.
“Dude, whatever,” Anthony said with a roll of his eyes, sounding amazed Steven would bother with semantics. “If you thought it was Shay, why would you banish her?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” Steven said, lowering his eyes. “I just panicked, and it didn’t occur to me until just now, when she screamed out my name, that I was sending her away.”