He certainly had. Credit was due to him for it, too. He’d inspired me to keep going, to not fall into the vortex of fear and anguish that had been quietly forming beneath me. I would’ve snapped days ago, had it not been for Seeley.
Yes, he was rough around the edges, and yes, he was a cold and sometimes mean jerk, but he did have a sense of who I was. He understood me, and, most importantly, he could still find a way to drop the occasional nugget of precious information without breaking his precious rules—like he’d done just now, by suggesting I could try harder to reach out to Zeriel instead of waiting for Amelia to drop by.
It meant that I could, in fact, make more meaningful contact with Zeriel. That I could maybe even send him a message, if I worked hard enough. Perhaps I could write something… or even implant a thought or something?
Nah, that’s ghoul territory.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t at all discouraged. I made a plan to keep trying until I could get actual words across to Zeriel. If Seeley suggested I could do it, then I would’ve been a fool not to give it a shot.
Seeley stifled another chuckle. “Oh, man, I can only imagine what Amelia must be going through right now, if she’s seeing ghosts.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning.
“She has no idea what the scythe can or cannot do in her possession. Wherever she is, there must be a wandering soul or two there. Once she sees them and the others in her crew don’t, she’ll start to think she’s losing her mind.”
He was so amused, as if he’d just told himself a fabulous joke. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Can’t help it,” Seeley replied, pressing his lips into a thin line as he tried not to laugh some more.
I, on the other hand, found myself worried about Amelia. How long before she’d realize that she could see spirits, and that it was strictly because of the scythe? She was, by far, one of the most intelligent creatures I’d ever come across, but even she had her limitations, especially since she was dealing with so many unknown things at once.
The scythe didn’t come with a user manual. The poor soul. She must be freaking out.
Amelia
I was probably losing my mind. Or maybe I was the victim of a peculiar phenomenon that only targeted me. Of the two possibilities, my rational side was inclined to go for the former, while my emotional and supernatural side aimed for the latter. Either way, I had a lot of questions.
As we moved through the tall woods, I continued seeing them. People of all origins, known and unknown, scattered between the trees and watching us. Semi-transparent manifestations of creatures I’d seen before and some I’d maybe dreamed about, figments of my imagination now firmly fixed in reality, somehow. I was well within my rights to doubt my sanity, at this point. We’d been through so much over the course of… what, a week?
We’d lost a friend to the Hermessi. We’d been running and hiding and struggling to survive while trying to find a way to stop the natural elements from killing us and everyone we loved. The stress had to have been taking its toll on me.
A few hours into our trek, we stopped by a waterfall. It marked the altitude shift from a narrow, stony plateau coming in from the east and a network of crevices packed with trees and shrubs. Between them, the waterfall fed a strip of even land and forest, allowing the sun to shine down on the mossy ground. By now, I’d pulled on my hood, my mask, and my goggles, once again thanking all the stars that Yamani hadn’t thought of taking those, too, along with our weapons and supplies. I wasn’t sure what happened to Reapers after they died, but frankly, given his clearly wretched soul, I dared hope there would be nothing for him. Absolutely nothing.
“We should stop here for a while,” Taeral suggested.
We hadn’t said much along the way, having spent most of our time analyzing our surroundings and getting to know the local fauna and flora a little better. Wherever this was, it was a beautiful and healthy planet. The oxygen surplus in its atmosphere made every breath a pleasure, heightening my senses and stimulating my circulation.
“Great idea,” Lumi said, then bent down by the river. She scooped up a handful of water and took several cautious sips. A smile followed. “It’s really good. The faint sweetness is an added bonus.”
“Fresh water, then. Drinkable,” Raphael concluded. He gave me a sideways glance. “You okay?”
He’d asked me the same question repeatedly along the way. His concern was endearing, but it was also an irritating reminder that I’d been seeing people, and that wasn’t normal, since no one else in my crew could see them.
I gave him yet another faint nod. “For the umpteenth time, yes.”
“Any more sightings?” Taeral asked, genuinely interested. His was a more clinical approach, which I appreciated. He didn’t worry about my wellbeing, even though I did. He simply believed I could see people around us, like it was acceptable. Well, at least, that was how he sounded to me, and it was a welcome respite. He probably worried, too, just not as obviously as Raphael.
“Yeah, all the way here,” I said, then pointed at different individuals I was currently seeing around us. “Over there, your one o’clock. And there. Also there, farther to the west, approximately fifty yards from where we’re standing.”
“Do any of them say anything?” Raphael replied.
Finally, a question I could answer without lying to him or myself, because I was anything but okay. “Nothing whatsoever. They just watch. It hasn’t gotten any less weird.”
“There must be a reasonable explanation,” Eira said. “Illusions? Or spirits?”
“From GASP’s previous brushes with death, I can tell you for a fact that we can’t see spirits,” I replied. “The fae could, given Sherus’s past exploits, which would then mean that Taeral should be able to see them, not I.”
“I’m half fae, though. Maybe that’s playing a part?” Taeral wondered.
“Then illusions?” Eira replied.
“If I’m the only one seeing them, it’s a possibility, and it doesn’t speak well of my sanity.” I chuckled, though cringing on the inside. I’d been going through the same process since I’d first begun to see them.
“Could be visions,” Lumi said. She didn’t seem worried about me, either. Or maybe she was just good at hiding her concern, like Taeral or Eira. Raphael, on the other hand, barely took his eyes off me. Granted, I didn’t exactly mind the attention, but I preferred it when it came in the form of flirtatious teasing or those long, intense looks he’d given me back on Cerix. Those made my stomach fill with raucous butterflies.
Raphael nodded. “Maybe you’ve got a connection to something here,” he added, seemingly on board with Lumi’s theory.
Good, it means you don’t think I’m crazy, after all, I thought to myself, and the relief that followed was almost comical. “That’s possible. It would then beg the follow-up question: What the hell am I connected to?”
No one had an answer, not even our beloved, Word-connected swamp witch.
“Until we figure it out, we might as well rest for a bit,” Eira said, smiling. “We can keep moving after this.”
“I’m also getting hungry.” Taeral sighed.
Raphael’s stomach was quite vocal in its agreement. It prompted a turbulent blush in his otherwise diaphanous cheeks as he looked at me. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Don’t worry, we all get that way, sooner or later,” I said. “I should have some blood, too. If there’s anything around here that might want to kill us, including the Hermessi, we might as well be physically prepared.”
