Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy (40 page)

I
stumble up beside her. Celia wastes no time on explanations, grabbing my hand and
towing me along behind her as she zips through the mists. I really need to
figure out how to speed travel better so I don’t have to bounce along behind
people like baggage. “Where are we going?”

“To
the Central Expanse. You’re going to flip when you see this!”

“Can’t
you just tell me?” I ask as we slam to a stop.

“No,”
Celia says. “You have to see it. But we’re here, anyway.”

I
push my tangled hair out of my face and peer around the empty space. I want to
ask what I’m supposed to be so hyped about, but Celia is already talking again.

“I
figured it out the day you were taken,” Celia says. “Everything with Lance’s
party and the way Milo was acting got a little overwhelming. Not to mention, I
had a big performance coming up at school. I needed some alone time, but the
training house was filled to the brim with people. I couldn’t find a single
quiet place. That’s when I thought about the spirit world. I’d been there a few
times already for training. They were mostly short trips, though, and I stayed
near the barrier. When I went into the spirit world, I didn’t want to be
disturbed by anyone else coming through so I went further in, to the Central
Expanse. Here.”

She
pulls me to the very center of the area, to the edge of a circular depression
in the ground. It’s the only one like it I’ve ever seen in the spirit world,
but no one could ever tell me why it was there. Celia stares at it excitedly.

“I
was just sitting here thinking, at first, but after a while I noticed how
different the spiritual energy felt here. It wasn’t like near the barrier.”

I
hadn’t really noticed before, but now that Celia has mentioned it, this place
does feel different. It’s odd because I’ve been here dozens of times and it has
never felt like this before. Usually in the spirit world, the flow of spiritual
energy seems to follow the current of the mists. Or maybe it’s the other way around.
Either way, the energy was always just here, before, like the ocean. It wasn’t
fed by any source like a lake is fed by a river. It was just a body of mist.
Now I can feel the distinct pouring in of spiritual energy. It’s fresh and
wonderful, like swimming in feathers. There is no doubt that the source is the
depression in front of us.

“What
is it?” I ask.

“It’s
a gateway.”

I
look over at Celia in confusion. “A gateway? What do you mean? A gateway to
where?”

“Not
to
where,
from
where. We can’t go through it, but others can come
here,” she explains in a way that leaves me completely bewildered. “When I
noticed the difference, I decided to poke around. So I gathered my own
spiritual energy and sent it into the gateway.”

“Celia,
that could have been dangerous!”

“I
know. I wasn’t thinking, but it turned out all right. Putting my energy in opened
up the gateway and they all came rushing through,” she says, her eyes alight
and eager. “Pay attention so you can do it on your own next time.”

She
starts gathering her energy and I panic. “Who came through? Celia, wait! Maybe
you should explain things a little more before you just dive in again.”

Too
late. Energy hurtles into the depression and the mists suddenly push away. Her
energy seems to hover over the depression for a few seconds. Neither of us dares
to take a breath. We watch as it sinks down slowly, an empty space forming at
the center and growing larger. Startled, I take a step back. Celia does the
opposite. When the emptiness engulfs the depression entirely the power stops.
At first I don’t think anything is going to happen, then, mist starts pouring
out of the gateway. It doesn’t remain mist for long, though. As soon as it
clears the gateway, it coalesces into a shape, into a body. More and more forms
emerge from the gateway.

“Celia,”
I whisper, “what’s happening? Who are these people?”

“They’re
ghosts!” she whispers back, her excitement making her voice turn high and
squeaky.

“What?”

She
nods. Her whole body bounces along with her head. “Before the Spiritualists
locked the Ciphers in here, this is what people used the spirit world for, to
talk to people who had passed on. Locking the Ciphers here did something to the
gateway so it wouldn’t work anymore, but once they were gone it started working
again. They just needed someone to activate it so they could come through.”

“These
people are dead?” I ask.

“Yeah.
I’ve only told a few people I can absolutely trust about it, and they have been
coming here trying to find people they’ve lost. It’s been amazing,” Celia
gushes. “It’s hard to find who you’re looking for, though, because I guess it’s
pretty difficult to get through for them. The ones who’ve been dead the longest
have the easiest time, because they’ve had more time to figure things out.
People who were Spiritualists in life can come pretty easily, too, but it’s
still hard to find who you’re looking for most of the time.”

“These
people are all dead. You can talk to people who’ve died.” I can’t believe this.
I turn to Celia in my astonishment, and say, “Celia, that means …”

“Libby?”

His
rough voice has been softened by death, but I would recognize it anywhere.
Tears well in my eyes and spill over in a torrent of joy. I turn around slowly,
and meet his gaze.

“Dad,”
I whisper, “you’re here.”

Chapter
31

Strangest Thing

The moment of shock wears
off quickly and I run to him. Right before I throw my arms around him, I wonder
if I’ll just pass through, but our spirit bodies collide softly and his arms
encircle me. My tears evaporate before they even make it down my chin. So do my
dad’s. Thoughts of getting back before Milo finds me dissolve under my dad’s
touch. We hold each other and cry like there is no time or reality.

A
lifetime later, my dad pulls back enough to see my face. New tears spring up as
he touches my face gently. “Libby,” he sobs, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for
everything I put you through.”

“It’s
okay, Dad,” I say.

“I
tried to change who you were. I left you to face all of this alone. I’m so
sorry, Little Libby.” His whole body shakes as he weeps in earnest.

“Dad,
it’s all right. Please don’t cry. Everything is all right, I promise,” I say.

Suddenly,
his sobbing turns into rueful laughter. I look at him, worried his ghost self
isn’t entirely stable. Who knows what happens to your mind after you die. He
notices my concern and attempts to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, Libby, it’s
just that I never thought you would be the one telling me everything would be all
right. That was always my job.”

“Things
have changed a lot since the last time you had to pull me out of one of my
messes.”

“I
know, sweetheart. Just seeing you, so grown up and beautiful, I can’t believe
how much I’ve missed.” His eyes tear up again, but he holds them back. “And
speaking of growing up, I want to hear about this young man you’re seeing.
Braden, right?” he asks, looking over at Celia.

She
nods happily. My eyes snap between them in disbelief.

“You’ve
met my dad?” I ask Celia.

“A
few weeks ago. He had a hard time getting here at first since he wasn’t a
Spiritualist in life, but he came looking for you. I’ve caught him up on most
of what’s been going on. The dead can’t see anything happening in the physical
world like the Ciphers could,” Celia explains.

I
look back at my dad in amazement. I want to stay here forever, but I know that
can’t happen. “Dad, I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay. I have to get
back before Milo brings me dinner in my cell …”

My
dad cringes at the mention of both Milo and my cell. Celia must have been very
thorough in her explanation of my exploits.

“Libby,”
Celia says, “I can go and come back before it’s time for Milo to come. That way
you can visit with your dad without worrying about time.”

“I’m
not for sure when Milo comes. I think it’s usually right before sunset.” The
small shadow that grows dimmer as the light fades while Milo questions me is
the only indication of time I have in my cell.

“He
comes at six o’clock,” she says. When I look at her in confusion, she explains.
“Lance. Those weeks where you were in pain, he felt it every day starting at
six. Just to be safe, I’ll come back for you an hour before, okay? Stay with
your dad until I come to get you. That way you won’t have to wonder.”

My
heart expands with love for my friend. I pull her into a crushing hug, and
whisper, “Thank you, Celia.”

She
nods, smiling, and disappears.

Turning
back to my dad, filled with relief, his stoic expression startles me. I know
that look. It says I’m about to get in trouble. What on earth could he possibly
…?

“Twenty-three?”
he demands.

Oh.
He’s serious, but I can’t help grinning. “Dad, please, you should be happy I’m
dating someone who’s mature and level-headed. You weren’t exactly thrilled when
Lance and I started dating because you said he was too reckless. You can’t have
it both ways.”

“I
know, but twenty-three? Really?” he complains. “He’s too old for you.”

“No,
he’s not,” I say softly. “He’s exactly right for me. In every way.”

“Because
he’s your Companion?”

“No,
because he’s the only one who keeps me from forgetting this world is filled
with as much love and beauty as it is hate and darkness,” I say. “And because I
love him more than I have ever loved anyone, and he loves me just as much.”

My
dad is silent for a long time. I’m afraid he’s going to fight me about this,
which seems silly with everything else I’m facing. I wait silently, nervously.
The slow turn of his frown into a smile lets me finally take a breath. “You
really love him that much?” my dad asks.

“I
really do,” I say with a grin.

“Then
I guess I can’t complain. But I do want to meet him.”

That
sours my expression. I hold up my wrist with its three sets of diktats. “That’s
not going to be easy. Not only did I break Braden’s link to me as my Companion,
I also stole his ability to come here. Until I figure out how to give his
talents back …”

My
dad takes my upraised hand and runs his fingers delicately across the black diktats.
No doubt he’s reliving the night he tried to do the same thing and failed.
Grief and regret plague him. Suddenly he shakes off those emotions and looks up
at me. “You didn’t break your connection with Braden, Libby. You’re still
Companions.”

“What?”

“The
bond is still there, it’s just suppressed because his talents are gone. It’s
the talents that amplify the connection. Without them, you can’t feel the
effects of being Companions,” he says.

I
try to contain the bubble of joy rising inside of me because of the lingering
reality. “But, Dad, even if that’s true, I still can’t use the Companion link
to help me unless I figure out a way to give Braden his talents back. You don’t
know how to reverse the Serqet, do you?”

He
shakes his head. I can’t stop myself from growling in frustration. “Mr. Walters
said you could help me!”

“What
do you mean?” my dad asks.

“Before
he died, he left me a message that told me what he did wasn’t the first time
I’d been betrayed. He had to have been talking about you. And the prophecy said
I had to learn from the person who tried to take everything from me and failed,
that I had to learn from it and use it to win. It has to mean you trying to
perform the Serqet. There’s an answer there somewhere. I just can’t figure it
out!”

My
dad’s face crumples, his body drooping in shame. “I did betray you, didn’t I?”

Realizing
how my words must have seemed like a vicious accusation, I hurriedly try to
apologize. “Dad, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No,
it’s the truth.”

“You
were trying to help. I understand that, Dad. And to be honest, at the time, if
you would have told me what you wanted to do, I would have been all for it. I
didn’t want to be the Destroyer any more than you wanted me to,” I said.

“But
you wouldn’t say that, now, would you?” he asks, pride shining in his eyes.

I
shake my head. “No. Even with everything I’ve been through because of who I am,
I won’t choose to hide. I believe what I’m doing is important, and worth the
risk. I have to see this through to the end. Whatever that may be.”

My
dad steps over to me, his arms cradling me in a hug. “I’m so proud of you,
Libby.”

“You
might want to save that until I actually win,” I say. “I still have so much to
figure out.”

“Well,
I may not know how to reverse a Serqet,” he says, “but I think I might be able
to help you with something else.”

“What?”

“Dorotabos.”

“What?”
I ask again.

“Cipher
zombies, Dorotabos, whatever you want to call them.”

My
mouth quirks up at hearing this new nickname for the Cipher zombies. “Who came
up with that name?”

“Alex
Takima was the one who started it,” my dad says. “Apparently he speaks his
native Japanese, and as soon as the others heard him using the name Dorotabos,
it kind of stuck.”