The Black (46 page)

Damon struggled with his horse to keep from being pulled in as one after another, with horrified cries of terror, his soldiers were dragged closer toward the last stop they would ever know. I saw them desperately grab at the air as they flew by. It was their last act in a place where they'd had the chance to make things right for themselves, but had chosen to embrace the hatred and anger they knew in life.

Some chose the easy way out. I watched in horror as several of Damon's soldiers took their black swords and cut their own throats, turning themselves to smoke rather than be sent into the abyss for all eternity.

Damon was putting up a good fight. Or at least his horse was. I didn't think either of them would last much longer. Most of the soldiers had been pulled through the dark
curtain, but the wind didn't let up. I thought it was only fitting that Damon would be the last to be taken. Though the event wasn't over, I relaxed.

It was a mistake.

Damon changed tactics. Instead of battling against the relentless pull of the wind, he kicked his horse and charged across the bottom of the stairs, directly at us. We had no choice but to scatter. Ree and I fell one
way, and Zoe fell the other. I took my arm from around Zoe's shoulder, and regretted it.

Damon galloped to where we were huddled, reached down, and grabbed Zoe by the throat. The girl was a battler but she was no match for this man who was driven by desperation. He lifted her up . . . and the wind stopped pulling at him. The guy had made a brilliant and ruthless move. He realized that Zoe wasn't being pulled into the Blood and he was using her to save himself. Zoe struggled to get away but Damon wrapped his arm around her and pulled her up onto the horse.

He looked down to me and called, "You did not think I would give up that easily, did you?"

I jumped up and tried to grab at Zoe, but Damon yanked his horse away from me and kicked it into a gallop. The horse, with Damon and Zoe aboard, charged back across the mouth of the abyss with no problem. On the far side, the colorful mist appeared and Damon galloped directly into it, disappearing, along with Adeipho's daughter.

As the last of his soldiers was pulled into the dark opening, the howling wind grew to a crescendo, drowning out the tortured screams of those within. Its mission complete, the black curtain closed, sealing the portal and choking
off the last of the howls. The wall then lowered to the ground and slipped out of the concourse the same way it
had come in, pulling back and moving over the floor like a liquid snake. It broke in two and disappeared down each of
the two corridors that led away from the concourse, leaving no trace that it had ever been there.

The only spirits left in Grand Central were the surviving Guardians. And me. Strewn across the
concourse were several black spirit-killing swords. The weapons had not been sucked into the Blood along with Damon's soldiers, which meant the fighters were defenseless against whatever they found in there. I liked that.

Ree looked shell-shocked. All the Guardians did. "Why?" she asked.
"After so many centuries, why were they sent to the Blood now?"

"I think Damon finally went too far," I said.

I didn't tell her about my discussion with the Watchers. Actually, it was more of a tirade. Whatever. It seemed to have gotten through to them. Or maybe it had nothing to do with me and the opening of the Rift was what had sealed Damon's followers' fate. Either way, the result was fine by me.

I glanced across the concourse to see that standing beneath the wreckage of the Kodak photo was a lone figure. A Watcher. It was the same older guy I had first seen when I ran to the edge of
Ree's
vision. He stood there, alone, expressionless. Maybe I imagined it, but it sure looked as though he gave me a slight nod the moment before he disappeared.

"We have to find Damon," Ree said. "He has Zoe."

"We will," I assured her.

Ree gazed around the terminal and saw something that made her eyes open wide. I wasn't so sure I wanted to have any more surprises, but I turned to look anyway.

"It's gone," she said, breathless.

I followed Ree to the center of the concourse. The other Guardians were right behind us. We walked closer to the destroyed booth to see . . . the Rift wasn't there. The floor of the information booth was just that.
A floor. Lying on the spot where the Rift once was, was Zoe.

Ree ran to her and helped her sit up.

"Are you all right?" Ree asked.

Zoe looked around, dazed, trying to focus on her surroundings.

"Yes," she answered tentatively. "When we rode into the mist, everything went dark, and when I opened my eyes, I was lying here."

"Because he didn't need you anymore," I said.

"It was my fault he escaped," Zoe said, dropping her head.

"It wasn't,"
Ree
said quickly. "There was nothing you could have done."

Ree stood on the spot where the Rift once was and stomped her foot. In spite of all the horror we had been through, she smiled.

"Damon created the Rift over two thousand years ago," she announced. "And today it's been closed, thanks to the sacrifice made by Adeipho and the Guardians."

I looked to Zoe and saw pride through her pain.

There was no cheering. No shouts of joy or victory. There were only tears and hugs. Adeipho and the Guardians had done their job. They had protected the Rift. Damon did not get through into the Light, nor did any of his soldiers.

The Guardians' mission was complete.

I wanted to say that the Watchers had also done their job, but there was too much I still didn't know about the Morpheus Road. I could only go as far as to say that the Watchers were every bit the force that the spirits in the Black thought they were. They just worked in mysterious ways.

There was only one issue not resolved, and it was a big one.

Damon was still out there. Somewhere. He may not have gone through the Rift into the Light, but that wouldn't stop him from his quest to find the poleax. We had won the battle, but the war was far from over.

And Marsh was still in Trouble Town.

30

There's a strange thing about being dead. It's really not so bad.

Besides the whole ancient-spirit-bent-on-revenge thing, that is. That part sucks. But if it weren't for that, the transition from the Light into the Black and having a vision of your physical life to help you work on your personal issues is really kind of a cool thing. I think that's why the spirits in the Black aren't all weepy and sad for the most part. They know that being there is as much a part of life as being in the Light.

It isn't all roses, though. Peeking back to your old life is great in theory, but it can also make things harder because it's a reminder of what you can't have anymore. I guess some people handle it better than others and maybe that's part of what it takes to move on to the next, better life. You have
to let go of the past before you can accept the future.

But I didn't want to. I liked my life too much. That's why I was tempted by Damon's offer. But I couldn't go back, for all sorts of reasons. I was going to have to accept that and settle for the occasional glimpse into the Light to see what I was missing.

It's all that any of us could ask for.

"Are you okay?" I asked Ree. "You look as white as a ghost. Get it? White as a ghost?"

Ree gave me an impatient glare. "I'm fine."

She didn't look fine. She was tense. Way more tense than when she was facing down an army of ghost soldiers.

"Maybe you should wait awhile," I suggested.

"No," she said quickly. "It's time. It's past time."

"Okay," I said with a shrug, and held out my hand to her.
"You're shaking," I said. "It's going to be fine. Trust me."

She nodded and took my hand, and the two of us stepped through the swirl of colored fog into the Light. It was
Ree's
first visit there as a spirit, not counting the vision we saw of the mayhem on the lake. We were in the living room of my family's cottage on Thistledown Lake. It was night. The house was quiet. Ree looked around, skittish, as if she didn't belong and didn't want to be there. That is, until her eyes set on something. She let out a small gasp, and the tears were right behind.

What she saw was Marsh, her son, lying on the couch.

She squeezed my hand hard enough to break bones, if I had bones. I put my arm around her shoulder and wrenched my aching hand away from hers.

"Go see him," I said.

She didn't move. I think she was afraid to.

"It's okay," I said. "He won't bite."

Ree walked stiffly toward the couch and knelt down next to her son. It was the first time she had been close to him since she left on the fateful trip to Greece.

Marsh was wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn't begin to imagine what might be going through his head after all that had happened to him. Knowing Marsh, he was thinking hard, trying to understand. I wished I could help him.

Ree started to push his hair out of his eyes but stopped herself.

"I know he won't feel it," she said. "I just want to pretend like he might."

Seeing Ree watching her son, in tears, was like being on the other side of the looking glass. The departed spirit was broken up over losing a loved one who was still alive. The fearless leader of the Guardians of the Rift had become a mom again.

"It's the hardest part of dying," I said. "Both sides lose." Ree stared at Marsh and smiled through her tears.

"He's grown up," she said. "I've missed so much."

"Now you can visit him as much as you want. You don't have to miss another thing."

Ree leaned closer toward her son and whispered, "I love you, sweetheart. I miss you."

I felt myself tearing up.

"And I'm sorry," she added.

I didn't want her to go there. This was about visiting Marsh, not dealing with the horrors of Damon and his quest.

"They know about my accident now," I said, wiping away a tear. "The search for my body starts tomorrow."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I peeked into the sheriff's office when they were questioning Marsh and Sydney about the accident. I think most everybody realizes I bought it. Everybody but Marsh, that is. He still thinks I'm alive. It's going to be a rough day for him."

"How could he possibly still think you're alive after all that's happened?" she asked.

"I don't know, but he's holding out hope."

She smiled. "Stubborn."

"Yeah," I said. "I wish I could be the one to tell him the truth. Before they drag the lake and pull out, well, me."

"Maybe you can," Ree said. "You've connected with him before."

I laughed. "Listen to you, throwing out the rules."

"You've done a lot worse than that," she said.

"True. But I wouldn't know how to tell him." My eye caught something on the table at the other end of the couch. "Then again . . ."

"What?"

I knelt down next to Ree, very close to Marsh's head. "What are you doing?" she asked.

I leaned toward Marsh, closed my eyes, and concentrated. If there was ever a chance for spirits to communicate with the living, it was then. I had a strong connection with Marsh, but that was nothing
compared to what he had with his mother. Together we couldn't miss.

I heard Ree gasp. I didn't have to look to know the ripple of color had appeared between me and Marsh. I leaned closer to him and blew, pushing his blond hair across his forehead.

"How did you do that?" Ree exclaimed.

Marsh reached up and brushed his hair back.

Ree gasped again.

"He felt that!" she exclaimed, her tears returning.

"C'mon, help me," I said.

I took
Ree's
hand and led her to the table where I pointed to one of the framed pictures on display. She understood.

"Concentrate," I said. "The stronger the connection between the spirit and the living, the better chance we have of creating the energy."

I knelt down next to the table and focused on the picture. "I want to move it," I said.

She knelt beside me and held my hand.

Marsh sat up. He sensed our presence, I was sure of it. We had a short window to make it work. The picture was the birthday gift that Ree had given me years before. It was the photo she took of the African tribal elder and his great-grandchild. She called it
Eternity.
I didn't think the message would be lost on Marsh.

Ree and I focused on the picture. I heard a slight squeak. The frame twisted on the glass table, but Marsh didn't hear it. I squeezed
Ree's
hand, putting all my focus on the picture. The frame shook, tipped, and fell over.

"Incredible," was all Ree could say.