Dark Company (15 page)

“What’s that?”

“It’s where human souls go to get advice and readjust their life’s trajectory before they reincarnate on the earth plane. They spend the in-between time talking to their Advisers so they can make good decisions when they return to earth.”

“And then they become people again?” she asked, swishing to one side to let a group of silver beings go by.

“Yes.”

“And their Guides help them when they’re on earth?”

“Yes. They provide guidance to help keep people on track.”

“Oh.” This was the most exciting thing Skylark had heard since she’d arrived. She needed to learn more. “Do Guides always have so much fun? I mean, how come they’re not working and training like us?”

“Because their role is different,” the mouse said. “They train through remote observation. In fact, most of their work is done remotely, through dreams and projected ideas, though they often appear to humans in times of great distress to offer comfort and guidance.”

“Is that why they look like people—in case they need to appear?”

“Yes. They’re energetically connected to humans. It helps them to communicate if they pattern their form and energies to match those of people. Some assume other likenesses—dwarves, elves, rangers and such. It depends what their human feels most comfortable with.”

“So … they have shape, like me,” she said.

“They don’t have to. They just like to. Their true form is amorphous.”

But the Guides have a choice, she thought. Which made them as close to human as she would ever find in the city. “How do they change their shape?”

The mouse clucked. He’d grown tired of her questions. “They just rearrange their particles. It’s not difficult for them, though it does take practice. Guides evolve over many lifetimes. They spend quite a few tours of duty in the corporeal world.”

“If their true form is amorphous, why do they assume human shape when they’re here?”

The mouse didn’t answer right away. “It helps to keep them connected to their human charges,” he finally said. “And for fun. Guides are allowed to enjoy human pleasures and interests—to some degree—to help them understand the ones they work with.”

Skylark sighed. Why couldn’t she have been a Guide? She swerved to avoid an Adviser, nearly gliding over its wolf in the process.

“Just keep your eyes on the road,” the mouse admonished. “It doesn’t help to dream about being something other than what you are.”

“But I—”

“Enough talk,” the mouse said. “We need to get back to your room.”

Skylark folded her arms. What was the point of being out if she couldn’t have a good time? If the mouse really expected her to give up everything she loved, he could relax a little. She was so frustrated with his rigid rules and constant strictness that she jumped home in protest, landing with a deliberate thump to rattle his teeth to the roots.

“Door open,” she growled, and then she slammed it closed after they’d entered the room.

Sebastian leapt from her shoulder onto the pillow and nestled in as before. She moped on the edge of the bed, staring angrily at the big brown book. The mouse wasted no time falling asleep. With nothing else to do, Skylark glided begrudgingly over to her desk and thought the book open. “Show me your purpose,” she said.

The book’s pages immediately filled with weird symbols and drawings and the tiniest writing imaginable. Skylark flipped through several pages, each one more excruciating than the last. She read a few lines. It was a manual of sorts, from what she could understand, written in the most laborious style. Something
specifically for Warriors. She touched the page with her finger and the words enlarged in front of her. A voice recited the contents. It was the same stuffy narrator from
The Book of Events
.

Skylark clapped the book shut. She was not in the mood for learning—she would never be—especially after seeing the Guides having so much fun at the bar. She thought about what the mouse had said, how the Guides rearrange their particles to change form. Closing her eyes, she stood with her arms at her sides and imagined what that would feel like. After several moments, a funny tingling stirred in her fingertips. Her eyes popped open and she looked at her hands. They appeared the same. She glanced warily at Sebastian. The mouse was still asleep on the bed.

Closing her eyes again, she relaxed her mind and it opened like the petals of a flower. She imagined the molecules of her body moving apart and dancing slowly around each other. The tingling returned to her fingertips. It moved up her arms and across her chest. It crept to her scalp and down the length of her body, through her legs, across her knees, and all the way to her toes. She could feel her energy reaching beyond her shape. Slowly opening her eyes, Skylark saw a misty outline glowing around her form. At the centre of her body was a birthing star, pulsing and expanding. This must be her soul light!

“Mirror,” she whispered to the ether.

A mirror appeared and hung in the air before her. She allowed her mind to go deeper still, watching as her form turned to fog, breaking up around her. Her features blurred, and her body took on the appearance of luminous smoke. She conjured an image of the girl she used to be, and her particles danced slowly around each other, rearranging. To her amazement, her human self stared back at her in wonder from the mirror. She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with blue suede sneakers. Her heart-shaped face was surrounded by a mass of blond curls. Only her
eyes didn’t change. They remained the same deep colour of violet. Skylark gazed at her reflection. How she loved her face. Her lips were full and her eyes were as big as a deer’s. It thrilled her to look human again. But what would it be like to have straight hair? she wondered. Her blond curls instantly relaxed and hung in a thick curtain over her shoulders.

“How about red?” she whispered, and her hair turned red.

“Shorter.”

Her hair halved in length.

“Frizzy.”

It looked like a halo.

“Longer.”

It tumbled down her back.

“Straight.”

It instantly relaxed again.

“Black,” she said. “The colour of raven wings.”

Skylark turned her head from side to side, admiring her shining mane of dark hair. She really liked what she saw. It made her want to go out again, to see how it would feel to move through the city in her new form.

She would have to change her clothes, though. Trying out a bunch of outfits, including half a dozen dresses, she eventually decided on pants, ankle-high brown leather boots and a black shirt—form-fitting and buttoned up the front with a collar and long sleeves slightly flared at the wrist. She changed the colour of her pants several times before landing on black as well. Scrutinizing her reflection, she concluded she needed something more, and gave herself a studded brown leather belt that clung to her hips. And fingerless gauntlets, laced at the wrists and dark brown, to match the belt. When she was happy with the results, Skylark closed her eyes and imagined her form solidifying and holding its shape. Opening one eye, she was astonished to see that it had worked. Well, most of it. The healing cord on her
floppy arm was still visible through the shirt, though its colour had deepened to a shimmering brown. She puzzled over this for a while, decided she liked the look and went with it.

Throughout this process, the mouse slept peacefully on the bed. Would he approve? She wasn’t going to wake him to find out. I’ll only be gone a little while, she told herself. What harm could it possibly do?

Swishing softly to the door, Skylark whispered for it to open, glided out and closed it quietly behind her. She wanted to stroll through the city in her new form, take her time, and gauge the reactions of other beings. But that would take too long. What if the mouse woke up? Or she ran into someone she knew? Best to jump instead, she thought.

Skylark hid behind a tree on the edge of the practice field and imagined the bar where the Guides gathered. The roar filled her ears and the stars started to slipstream. She felt a tremor in her body and to her dismay, her robe snapped back into place. “Oh!” She’d ruined all her hard work.

Calming her mind, she focused on her new outfit. The robe dissolved and the new clothes reappeared. She centered herself, to jump again. As soon as the roar began, her robe returned. She’d have to glide to the bar after all.

Moving as gracefully as possible, Skylark floated through the city, avoiding eye contact with the beings she met along the way. She could feel them watching her. Were her seams showing? Could they tell she’d changed her form? If they could, no one said anything. They’re only staring because you look so awesome, she reassured herself. When she reached the bar, she gathered her courage and glided up to the door.

“Open,” she thought.

The door didn’t move.

“Open,” she said with her mouth.

Nothing.

Skylark grabbed the handle, yanked the door open and stumbled backwards. Straightening herself, she cruised into the bar and was met by a wall of music, laughter and conversation. It was so exciting! She cased the room, trying to look like she belonged. Every table was full and everyone seemed to know each other. Where was she going to sit? There were a few empty seats at the bar. She would take one of those.

Several Guides greeted her as she passed. She was definitely drawing attention. She nodded, maintaining her cool. What she really wanted to do was stare at everything—the way the Guides were dressed, the things they were drinking and eating, the way they talked with their mouths. It was hard to contain herself. She chose a seat one away from a casual-looking Guide. He was sitting alone, leaning over some bluish-looking drink, tapping his fingers absently to the music. She absorbed as much of him as she could from the corner of her eye. Blond hair. Blue jeans. Hooded shirt. Cute. She felt guilty for thinking that last thought. What would Poe say? She stifled a laugh. She was having so much fun.

After several minutes of sitting, she was approached by an affable being behind the bar. It was tall, formless, little more than a face reflected on water. It smiled and small lights sparked at random intervals through its energy field.

“What’ll you have?”

Skylark shifted in her seat. “Umm. Pardon me?”

“To drink. What would you like to drink?”

She’d paused too long. She hadn’t had anything to drink since … she couldn’t even remember when. The being waited expectantly. She cleared her throat, speaking in a low voice. “I’ll … uh … I’ll have whatever he’s having.” She pointed surreptitiously to the cute Guide beside her.

The being reached beneath the counter and produced a heavy-bottomed glass. Pushing a lever on one of the taps, it filled
the glass with a viscous blue liquid and placed it in front of her. She thanked him … it … lifted the glass to her lips the way the other beings were doing and took a sip. The blue liquid burned all the way down to her toes. She coughed. It felt good, and deeply familiar. Like whiskey. Only blue. And thicker. It filled her body with the most incredible sensation of warmth.

“Hey, it’s good,” she said, raising her glass.

The blond Guide shot her an amused look.

“Cheers,” the bartender said.

After several sips of the blue liquid Skylark felt confident enough to swivel in her chair and check out the scene. How amazing it felt to be part of so much commotion. This was a joyful place—it was easy to see that. The Guides were fun to watch, too. They assumed every shape and size—some old, some young, some fantastical, like gnomes and druids and elves.

Tapping her foot to the music, Skylark threw her drink back and ordered another. Raising it to her lips, she caught a Guide staring back at her from a shadowed corner of the room. He was tall, Japanese by the look of it, twenty, maybe, with short black hair, a long overcoat and black pants and boots. She liked his style. He was wearing sunglasses, even though the light in the bar was far from glaring. She watched him for a while. Then he stood and walked toward her. Oh no. Skylark spun around in her chair and faced the bar, her cheeks burning. Seconds later the Guide appeared, leaning casually next to her.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

She fiddled with her glass. “That’s because I’ve never been here before.”

He smirked. “That’s a surprise. You don’t look like a Guide.”

An elvish-type character stepped up to the bar, ordered a drink and returned to the crowd.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Your EP—it’s different.”

She contemplated the blue liquid in her glass, hiding the fact that she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He leaned closer.

“Your energetic print, in case you were wondering.”

Skylark threw back her drink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Smacking her glass down on the counter, she ordered another. He took this as an invitation and claimed the seat next to her, ordering two more drinks. She stole a glimpse of him. Was his energetic body bleeding around his human form? Or were her eyes playing tricks on her? She looked at her glass. It was empty again. And there was another drink waiting. How many had she had?

He held his hand out. “My name’s Kenji.”

She stared at his hand for a moment, then shook it. She still couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes. “Skylark.”

“Seriously?” He held her hand, his energy pulsing up her arm. “Pleased to meet you,
Skylark
.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” She pulled away. “Keep your vibrations to yourself.”

“It isn’t usual to see your kind in here,” he said. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like you before.”

She pressed her scarred arm against her side. “Is that right?”

He leaned closer. She could feel the energy snapping off him.

“So … why are you here?” he asked.

She turned at last to engage him and was surprised to see her reflection in his glasses. She’d almost forgotten she’d changed herself. “I don’t even know where
here
is,” she said.

He smiled. She planted her elbow on the bar, resting her head in her hand. She felt deliciously relaxed.