A Flight of Souls
Page 9
“Who are you?” he grunted, even as the living ogre snored loudly by his side.
Good question. It seemed that I had been so many things in the past year. Human, vampire, serf of the jinn, child of the Elders, and now a ghost.
“Ben,” I said, not bothering with the idiocy of giving a false name again like I had with Chantel and Nolan.
The ogre scrunched up his face in confusion. “Vampire?”
I nodded. “I was. How long have you been here?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t keep track of time,” he mumbled.
“How did you die?” I prodded.
He glided to his feet and, turning around, he revealed a massive gap in the back of his skull. Wide enough for a large axe to have wedged through it.
“I see,” I murmured, as he turned around again and resumed his slouch on the ground. Before he could return my question, I asked another. “Do you know of any way, no matter how difficult or seemingly impossible, to continue living in one’s former life? To reconnect with one’s loved ones?”
The ogre stared at me like I was talking Chinese.
“No,” he grunted. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be sitting here, would I?”
Well, maybe you’re just too lazy to do what it takes…
But he had a fair point, and it was one I feared I might receive from any other ghosts I encountered.
My fear came to fruition. After leaving the ogre, I kept moving about the island and discovered a surprisingly large number of other ghosts. Some had been vampires, some wolves, one had been a human, and there was even what looked like a harpy. I found myself wondering why there were so many ghosts here. Perhaps because this was a shelter to so many otherwise homeless creatures, this was the place they truly considered home, having been shunned by their own realms.
Although the numerous ghosts all had varying degrees of approachability—with the harpy being the lowest on the scale—all of them responded with exactly the same answer. There was no way to move backward.
My desperate hope was that there had to be some seemingly impossible way to do it, and the reason nobody did was because nobody was crazy enough. Because I was used to impossible circumstances. And even an impossible task was better than none at all.
But here I found myself, with no leads whatsoever.
By the end of the day, after speaking to dozens of ghosts, I found myself drifting toward the beach and then back over the waves. I wandered slowly, aimlessly, deep in thought and worry. I ended up back near the small islet that held the portal. The sight of the star-strewn abyss brought my mind back to the present. Many hours had passed since leaving Chantel and Nolan, and surely it would be well past midnight by now. I felt curious to see whether all those ghosts were still waiting on the other end. Whether that fable had been just that—a stupid fable. Probably concocted by some miserable spirits to make themselves feel better.
Hovering over the gate, I traveled back through the ethereal tunnel and shot out of the other side, landing back in a world of ice.
When I gazed around the snowy plateau, there was nobody in sight. I moved over to the cliff and gazed down at the ledge where the ghosts had been gathered. Also empty.
I guessed that they had waited until past midnight, and seeing that nothing was happening, they had all drifted away, hapless and disappointed.
I drifted over the plateau, toward the steep drop where the ledge was, and decided to sit there for a while. I could see why most of the ghosts had gathered here to wait. The view of the mountains was breathtaking.
Now… What next?
I still couldn’t help but feel that, if there were any answers, they would lie back in the supernatural realm. But where? The Tavern was really the only place that I was familiar with. Of course, as a ghost, it was not like I would be in danger roaming around the various realms, but, although I had the time… I did not want to be roaming forever.
I mulled over the matter a while longer and was about to head back to the gate—to return to The Tavern and ask the first ghost I saw where the nearest main settlement was where I might find more ghosts to speak to—when I felt an odd sensation. Suction, coming from behind me. As though somebody was holding up a powerful vacuum cleaner right next to me, I found myself being sucked backward, but on twisting to see who was there, there was nobody.
The suction intensified, dragging me in the opposite direction of the gate, even as I tried to fight it. Then it became too strong. The next thing I knew, I was flying away from the mountain, pulled by some invisible force. My speed increased until I was going so fast that the world around me became a blur. Utterly bewildered, I continued to hurtle forward, until eventually—I could not say how long it took—I came to an abrupt stop through no exertion of my own.
My vision coming into focus, I found myself standing on a rocky shore directly in front of the entrance to a cave. This cave was familiar. Uncannily familiar. This was… Hortencia’s cave.
Without warning, the oracle wheedled in my head, “Enter if you dare…”
What is going on?
Hurrying forward into the cave, I moved along the narrow passageway until I reached the oracle’s grotty front door. A sense of anticipation—even excitement—swelled up in me. The oracle. She knew of my existence. She could sense my presence. Heck, apparently she had even summoned me to her. Witches could not sense me, and according to Nolan and Chantel, it was unlikely that jinn could either, but this oracle was different in many ways. She could see things that nobody else could. And apparently that extended as far as ghosts.
Good question. It seemed that I had been so many things in the past year. Human, vampire, serf of the jinn, child of the Elders, and now a ghost.
“Ben,” I said, not bothering with the idiocy of giving a false name again like I had with Chantel and Nolan.
The ogre scrunched up his face in confusion. “Vampire?”
I nodded. “I was. How long have you been here?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t keep track of time,” he mumbled.
“How did you die?” I prodded.
He glided to his feet and, turning around, he revealed a massive gap in the back of his skull. Wide enough for a large axe to have wedged through it.
“I see,” I murmured, as he turned around again and resumed his slouch on the ground. Before he could return my question, I asked another. “Do you know of any way, no matter how difficult or seemingly impossible, to continue living in one’s former life? To reconnect with one’s loved ones?”
The ogre stared at me like I was talking Chinese.
“No,” he grunted. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be sitting here, would I?”
Well, maybe you’re just too lazy to do what it takes…
But he had a fair point, and it was one I feared I might receive from any other ghosts I encountered.
My fear came to fruition. After leaving the ogre, I kept moving about the island and discovered a surprisingly large number of other ghosts. Some had been vampires, some wolves, one had been a human, and there was even what looked like a harpy. I found myself wondering why there were so many ghosts here. Perhaps because this was a shelter to so many otherwise homeless creatures, this was the place they truly considered home, having been shunned by their own realms.
Although the numerous ghosts all had varying degrees of approachability—with the harpy being the lowest on the scale—all of them responded with exactly the same answer. There was no way to move backward.
My desperate hope was that there had to be some seemingly impossible way to do it, and the reason nobody did was because nobody was crazy enough. Because I was used to impossible circumstances. And even an impossible task was better than none at all.
But here I found myself, with no leads whatsoever.
By the end of the day, after speaking to dozens of ghosts, I found myself drifting toward the beach and then back over the waves. I wandered slowly, aimlessly, deep in thought and worry. I ended up back near the small islet that held the portal. The sight of the star-strewn abyss brought my mind back to the present. Many hours had passed since leaving Chantel and Nolan, and surely it would be well past midnight by now. I felt curious to see whether all those ghosts were still waiting on the other end. Whether that fable had been just that—a stupid fable. Probably concocted by some miserable spirits to make themselves feel better.
Hovering over the gate, I traveled back through the ethereal tunnel and shot out of the other side, landing back in a world of ice.
When I gazed around the snowy plateau, there was nobody in sight. I moved over to the cliff and gazed down at the ledge where the ghosts had been gathered. Also empty.
I guessed that they had waited until past midnight, and seeing that nothing was happening, they had all drifted away, hapless and disappointed.
I drifted over the plateau, toward the steep drop where the ledge was, and decided to sit there for a while. I could see why most of the ghosts had gathered here to wait. The view of the mountains was breathtaking.
Now… What next?
I still couldn’t help but feel that, if there were any answers, they would lie back in the supernatural realm. But where? The Tavern was really the only place that I was familiar with. Of course, as a ghost, it was not like I would be in danger roaming around the various realms, but, although I had the time… I did not want to be roaming forever.
I mulled over the matter a while longer and was about to head back to the gate—to return to The Tavern and ask the first ghost I saw where the nearest main settlement was where I might find more ghosts to speak to—when I felt an odd sensation. Suction, coming from behind me. As though somebody was holding up a powerful vacuum cleaner right next to me, I found myself being sucked backward, but on twisting to see who was there, there was nobody.
The suction intensified, dragging me in the opposite direction of the gate, even as I tried to fight it. Then it became too strong. The next thing I knew, I was flying away from the mountain, pulled by some invisible force. My speed increased until I was going so fast that the world around me became a blur. Utterly bewildered, I continued to hurtle forward, until eventually—I could not say how long it took—I came to an abrupt stop through no exertion of my own.
My vision coming into focus, I found myself standing on a rocky shore directly in front of the entrance to a cave. This cave was familiar. Uncannily familiar. This was… Hortencia’s cave.
Without warning, the oracle wheedled in my head, “Enter if you dare…”
What is going on?
Hurrying forward into the cave, I moved along the narrow passageway until I reached the oracle’s grotty front door. A sense of anticipation—even excitement—swelled up in me. The oracle. She knew of my existence. She could sense my presence. Heck, apparently she had even summoned me to her. Witches could not sense me, and according to Nolan and Chantel, it was unlikely that jinn could either, but this oracle was different in many ways. She could see things that nobody else could. And apparently that extended as far as ghosts.
