The Ghosting of Gods (15 page)

32
it was a lie

Ava defiantly sets her jaw. Using her fingers to comb tangles out of Leesel’s hair, she speaks. “He deserved it. Jesse, he had no right to ask you to risk yourself like that. And for what? That girl. Who the hell is that girl that you would risk yourself? She’s no one. She means nothing to us. But you mean everything to me and Leesel. Did you even think of what might happen to us if we lost you? Did you? You’re supposed to protect us!”

Leesel sighs with exasperation. She gathers up parchment and moves to a corner of the hut. Yawning, she returns to her work.

“Ava, Chastity was screaming. Did you expect me to do nothing? I had to try!”

“Oh,
Chastity
. The
monster
who abducted you and Leesel, dropped you in a pit, and held you for two days while I was sick with fear of what had happened to both of you. Forgive me, Jesse, for not understanding why you felt compelled to risk us all by playing exorcist for her.”

“This is about Poe. He’s the kindest person in the world, yet you break his heart without blinking. What’s wrong with you? You keep asking me why I don’t want
us
together. This is the reason. You don’t have a heart.”

Her defiant expression falters. “What?”

“Not for others. Yes, you love Leesel. You love me. You love us so hard, but no one else. There’s something wrong with you.”

“That’s not fair. It’s not true.”

“Belittling Poe is a hobby for you. The best thing you feel for him is pity. And do you know what, Ava? You’re not half the person he is. Poe is the sweetest soul I’ve ever known. He’s like Emmy was.” I lose my voice, but I swallow. Keep talking. “He’s
my brother
. Do you know why he asked me to help Chastity? He
can’t bear to see another human being suffer. Compassion is his nature. But you know nothing about that.”

She begins to cry. “Stop saying these things. You’re hurting me.”

“Like you hurt Poe?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Her tears have no effect on me.

“Jesse, please. It’s weird, how he believes he loves me. If he would only leave me alone…he’s so strange. What do you want from me? Do I have to be with Poe for you to like me again? To let me and Leesel live with you? Is that what you want?”

“That’s sick.”

Wiping away her tears, she looks at me angrily. “I’m not attracted to him. He’s physically undesirable to me.”

Opening my mouth to retort, I suddenly realize Leesel is listening to us. She’s sitting, thumb in her mouth, her books and papers forgotten. Ava sees too, and goes to her.

Sighing, I turn away.

Poe stands in the doorway.

“Look, Jesse, Leesel is done studying,” Ava says, her voice falsely cheerful. She looks up, a bizarre smile on her face, and sees Poe. The weird smile vanishes.

He heard enough. I can tell by the whiteness of his face. His neck strains, as if he’s swallowing hard in an attempt not to cry.

Ava has the decency to look ashamed. “Listen, Poe…”

“It’s okay,” he interrupts, only letting himself glance at her. He speaks in a rush. “Elspeth is back. It was a lie, Jesse.”

I don’t follow what he means. “What was a lie, Poe?”

“They were never going to let Elspeth heal Chastity. I saw them ambush her as she entered the camp. They knocked her unconscious and dragged her away. Saint Thomas saw too, and he’s livid. And he knows you’re an exorcist, he’s going on about your treason. Ruth is trying to calm him down.” He shuts his mouth. Looks down. “It’s my fault,” he chokes.

I tell him it’s not. I hug him, but he’s stiff.

“Ruth told me to come back here,” he continues, his voice monotone. “She tried to convince Saint Thomas that you’re mentally disturbed and not a traitor. But Saint Thomas insists on speaking with you in order to verify your insanity. Ruth says…” He wipes at his nose. “Ruth promised me she would try to protect you.”

Ava holds Leesel in a death grip, looking as wild as she did when we found her in the skeleton tunnels.

“That’s not all,” Poe adds. “Ruth says to warn you to stay away from Elspeth, to not get too close to her.”

“What do they think she might do?” Ava asks in a tight voice. “Why do they feel they need to warn Jesse?”

I answer when Poe can’t. “Elspeth thinks I can find her ghost. The first one she had before she died and another one possessed her. It’s crazy.”

“You’re an exorcist,” Poe says.

“So?”

“All the covenists are obsessed with ghost stuff. They want to get rid of bad ghosts. Seems like a big coincidence to me that here you are—an exorcist.”

“Poe’s right,” Ava says. She goes to the hut doorway, looks anxiously out into the rain that’s begun to fall. “They’re all interested in you, Jesse. Remember how the coven prodded at Ruth’s ghost when it went out of her body? They hate ghosts. It makes sense that they’re interested in you. You may be the only exorcist around. The rest have probably been imprisoned, right? So something’s going on here.” Ava paces, her arms crossed over her chest. “Right now Ruth is trying to save you from Saint Thomas, so he won’t take you away. Why?”

“Ask Leesel,” Poe says.

Ava frowns. “Ask her what?”

He points at Leesel, who yawns time and again. “She’s been here a long time. She must know something.”

33
witches want to melt

There’s a rap at the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” says Hannah, the little girl who claims to be Leesel’s friend. She uncovers a tray with food and tea. “We though you might need to eat and drink.” She passes out biscuits. Pouring a cup of tea for Leesel, she stirs in a powder from a pouch she conceals in her hand. The rest of us don’t receive the drugged tea.

Hannah whispers in Leesel’s ear and giggles, but Leesel only yawns.

“Drink your tea, you’ll feel better,” Hannah says. She kisses Leesel on the cheek, waves goodbye to us, darts back out into the rain.

“Are your studies going well?” I ask Leesel. I bump into her shoulder before the teacup reaches her lips. Most of it spills. “Woops. Sorry. Here, I’ll give you mine.”

Leesel takes a sip of my tea. Making a face, she sets it aside. Ava places a biscuit in her hand. Dutifully, Leesel nibbles. Yawns. My hope is that she’s not too sleepy to talk, but she’s sleepy enough to let down her guard and answer my questions.

“Leesel. Can I hold you?”

She holds out her arms to me.

Lifting her, it’s clear that she’s lost weight. I cradle her in my arms. Right away, her thumb slips into her mouth. I think how many times Ava and I have pulled out that thumb, telling her she’s too old for that. What did it matter? The rest of Leesel is consumed with things she’s too young for.

Her eyes close. Jiggling her, I try to keep her awake. “Leesel. You’re working so hard. What is it the coven has asked you to do?”

She talks around her thumb, keeping her eyes closed. “They keep bothering me,” she says, sounding petulant.

Ava gives me a wry look. With the drug wearing off, Leesel sounds more like herself.

“What do they want from you?”

“A new equation. To make the ten thousand things into one.” With her free hand, she draws numbers in the air. “But I like quantum options. I work on the new equation for awhile, then they teach me theories not in books at school. It’s a deal. Otherwise Elspeth doesn’t get to keep me here.”

She’s mumbling so that I can hardly make out what she’s saying. I jiggle her until she speaks louder. “…quantum options and…manipulating strings of probabilities to obtain…in parallel worlds
without
creating a reactionary event…minus given universe operating within.” Scowling, she ‘erases’ a mistake in her calculations.

“Leesel. What do the sisters think about ghosts?”

“Bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“They want rapture.”

I’m familiar with the old religious beliefs about the rapture of saints, but I doubt this is what Leesel is referring to. “What is rapture? Can you tell me?”

“Find the equation to chant. It’s very important. Find the equation or the sisters will sleep forever. Elspeth makes a face. Elspeth says what they really want to do is to melt, and it disgusts her.” Though drowsy, Leesel grins. “I told her on our world you can melt a witch with water. Elspeth didn’t get it. She asked if we baptize witches. She’s read all about your religion getting ready for you, but she gets it mixed up.”

Ava strokes Leesel’s hair. “What does Elspeth want with Jesse, baby?”

“Want Elspeth to pay attention to me. I’m tired of hearing her talk about Jesse. I like it when she’s nice to
me.”

“Elspeth is nice in some ways,” I say, trying to tread carefully. “But not in others. She healed me and your mommy when we were sick. She’s taken care of you. But she’s also drugged your tea, to keep you awake and exhausted so you’re too tired to question anything she says. The coven has brainwashed you. Do you know what that means?”

She scowls.

“Leesel, sweetie,” Ava wheedles. “Look at yourself. You can hardly stay awake. Jesse spilled your tea, and gave you his—undrugged—tea. That’s why you’re so sleepy. Haven’t you wondered why you don’t have to sleep much anymore?”

Leesel’s eyelids flutter. “Elspeth loves me more than anyone.”

“No, Leesel,” Ava says in a flat voice.
“I
love you more than anyone. Elspeth stole you from me. Don’t you remember?”

“Elspeth didn’t steal me.” Leesel yawns so big her next words are distorted, but I hear them.
“Chastity
stole me from you. Elspeth came and saved me. Bad Chastity. Stole me twice.”

Hell. I can’t believe it. Chastity was the one who abducted Leesel?

“Tea…can’t sleep…” Leesel struggles to sit up and get away from me.

“What are you doing?” I ask her. “You need to sleep now.”

“No. If I go to sleep…it may be for a long time.” Her words are slurred, and she stumbles. Ava tries to help her, but she resists, slapping her mother away. “Leave me alone! You’re glad that Elspeth doesn’t really love me.”

“Baby, no, you had to understand.” Ava’s voice rises in despair. “Come back! Where are you going?”

Leesel staggers out into the rain. I lunge to pull her back in, but Saint Thomas blocks me. “Let the child go,” he says. I watch helplessly as Leesel gets away, but I see she only goes as far as the next hut over. Hannah is there, throwing her arms around Leesel and drawing her inside.

“Should I doubt your sanity?” Saint Thomas queries, looking
down his nose at me and rattling his key chain at my ear.

A covenist appears behind doubting Thomas, her fist full of needles. She points, indicating I should get back in the hut. Over her shoulder, I see witches gathered. I nod, step back in the hut. The witches outside disperse, but I’ve no doubt they’re watching.

Saint Thomas steps inside as well, but he stands quietly against the wall, studiously ignoring the covenist. Her soaked dress clings to her angular body, dripping. Apparently she’d been standing in the rain for some time, keeping guard.

“Why did Leesel leave?” she demands.

I hook a thumb in the direction Leesel went. “She just left on her own. I think we bothered her by talking too much. She couldn’t study. If you ask me she needs to lay off the books, get some sleep. She was so tired she couldn’t keep her eyes open.”

The woman’s eyes travel to Leesel’s tea cup, just as I knew they would.

“By the way, can I have some more tea? Leesel’s got spilled, so I gave her mine.”

Understanding dawns on her face.

“I’m thirsty,” I add, and she leaves.

“Can I speak with you, Saint Thomas?” I ask, purposely not looking at Ava.

He follows me outside the hut. As does Ava. I push her back inside, take the saint’s arm, and pull him along. Covenists watch from doorways, but no one stops us. Maybe they think Saint Thomas won’t let me get away. Or they know I won’t leave without my friends.

“I need to see Elspeth,” I tell the saint. “Do you know where she is?”

He taps his square chin. “I do. Let us go speak with her. If she says you are not an exorcist, I will believe her. I doubt her sanity, but never her honesty.”

34
chains beneath his robes

Raindrops bead the cowl of Saint Thomas, rolling to the creases and down the back of his robe. Leaning on his staff, he leads me through the drenched coven village. My own coat isn’t waterproof. It grows heavy with rain and stiff with cold.

Every hut we pass has a fire burning within. Covenists work inside, bent over their papers at long tables. Several of them cook at stoves, and the aroma of food mixes with the earthy smells of the village in rain. Children stuff two of the huts. Their high-pitched voices chant numbers. Fun and games are over. It’s time for work. Their faces are focused, solemn. Like little nuns.

I recognize the path we take. Saint Thomas is leading me to the graveyard in the hollow where I witnessed the coven attacking Ruth’s ghost.

This is my chance. “Saint Thomas, I need your help. I have a question.”

“You may ask, child.”

Weird for him to call me a child when he doesn’t look much older than me. His wavering voice, though, reminds me there’s age to him despite his youthful appearance. “Where should I seek the Holy Ghost?”

He slows, glances at me, shudders. “I believe atmospheric disturbances worsen in the City of Sacristies. But I would stay clear if I were you.”

“Do you know where to find the City?”

Leaning on my arm, he wheezes. “Keep far away from the City and the Holy Ghost, unless you want to die, child. No other offering will suffice.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying the Holy Ghost will kill me?”

“Enough on this subject. Look here. Elspeth.”

I want clarification, but my next question dies in my mouth upon sight of Elspeth, upon sight of what they’ve done to her. Involuntarily, I curse.

“It does look painful,” Saint Thomas says thoughtfully, “but then, Elspeth is accustomed to pain.” He catches me with his staff as I step toward her, to help her. “We must not cross the circle, young man.”

Bits of metal form a thin line, encircling Elspeth so that if I obey Saint Thomas’s instruction, I am unable to touch her. Tied to the tallest tombstone in the graveyard, Elspeth is five feet from my reach. Rope criss-crosses her knees, waist, and chest, holding her upright though her head hangs to the side, as if she’s trying to rest it on her left shoulder. Her arms fold awkwardly, with elbows jutting out parallel to the ground and hands yanked behind the tombstone. With disgust, I see that dozens of nails pierce the rope to fasten it to the tombstone. As if that’s what it takes to restrain the slight girl that Elspeth is.

Maybe that
is
what it takes. A chill comes over me.

I get as close as I can, with my boots next to the metal filings of the circle.

“Elspeth?”

Her eyes flip open.

I flinch.

Tilting her face up to the sky, she opens her mouth, catches raindrops on her tongue. “Who are you?” she croaks.

Saint Thomas pats his chest. “I have no idea! I’ve lost my crystal. Bless the Holy Ghost, I’ve lost my bones as well.” He turns on his heel and marches off back the way we came.

Taken aback, I watch him trudge away.

Elspeth stares in my direction. Her pupils are contracted to the size of pinpricks. “I can’t see you very well. Come closer.”

Nudging the metal files with the toe of my boot, I consider her request. Remembering Chastity’s warning about Elspeth, I hesitate. “I’m not supposed to cross the circle,” I tell her.

“Jesse? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

A cackle erupts from her throat. “They’ve drugged me.” Her head swings back to the side to rest on her shoulder. “They’ve always hated me. Chastity must have warned them…told them what to mix to keep me here.” She smiles. Winks. “I need not mix. Yet, what sleepy girls they will be.”

“Do you see?” Saint Thomas calls out. Startled, I nearly jump across the metal line.

He’s back, holding a biscuit in his hand. With his cowl down, rain has flattened his thick black hair. “Elspeth is so honest as to willingly reveal her unethical intentions,” he says. Bits of soggy biscuit fall from his mouth. “I trust her completely, but I wouldn’t dare step inside that circle with her.” He taps my boot with his staff. Leaning close, he whispers loudly in my ear. “Her identity is uncertain. Her guilt, otherwise. Keep back, keep back.”

“I forgive you for speaking of me in such ways, Thomas,” Elspeth says with a sob. Her tears are indistinguishable from the raindrops that streak down her face. “Remember me, Thomas. You know me. How can I be dangerous to you? You’re already dead.”

The saint drops his staff. Quivering, he backs away. “Do you accuse me of consorting with traitors?” he shouts. Clawing at his cowl, he folds it over his face. The thick material muffles his voice. “They dig, dig, dig. Hide, hide, hide.” Opening the cowl, he points up in the trees. “Perhaps it’s
you
who consort with tunnelers. Do you dig? Show me your fingernails!” He stomps around, waving his arms, trampling his staff into the mud, conversing with people who aren’t there. “How dare you. Do you doubt me? The Holy Ghost is a jealous ghost. Bring me the halo!”

“What’s wrong with him?” I say, keeping my distance from his ranting.

He hears, rushes at me, slides to a dead stop.

Noticing the biscuit in his hand, he takes a bite. “It’s good,” he says. Thunder booms. Shrieking in terror, he pitches the biscuit across the graveyard.

“He suffers,” Elspeth says. Pity soaks her voice.

Saint Thomas crawls, fast, in my direction. Alarmed, I scramble out of his way. “I see that. From what? Schizophrenia?”

“He’s a ghost. An extraordinarily dense one, consumed by his past. Did you mistake him for the living? Many do.”

He’s after me. I grab his staff and fend him off with it.

“You!” he yells at me. “You dented the halo! Now it’s ruined.” He holds the invisible halo in his hands, turning it over to better examine it. With care, he settles it several inches over his head. Limping away, he stops now and again to set the halo right. Apparently it keeps slipping off.

I sit in the mud catching my breath. “Did you say he’s a ghost?” I ask Elspeth once he’s out of sight. “Because he doesn’t seem like a ghost.”

Her head is dropped forward. She answers without lifting her face. “You will find chains beneath his robes. He requires a savior, Jesse. I will do anything if you will help him.”

My chest tightens. What grandiose ideas does she hold about me, exactly? I want to know.

“Why do you love Saint Thomas?” I ask her, and when I do, I’m surprised by a pang of jealousy.

“Do you refuse love to ghosts?”

I don’t answer, and she continues without notice, as if she’s not really talking to me.

“I love him for doubting I could do bad things. I confessed to him as he passed by the village—in secret, my sisters would not approve—and he absolved me. He eased my pain, and now I wish to ease his. I wish him to be free of his chains. I wish all ghosts to be free of their chains, for the past to be no more.”

“You wish to be free of your own chains.”

“Yes.”

She strains against her ropes until the veins on her neck are raised blue. The rope holds her tight, and in moments her strength is spent. Whatever drug Ruth gave Elspeth, its effect is dramatic. Little time has passed since Poe reported Elspeth’s arrival in the village, yet she appears sickly, wasted. The flesh which shows on her chest and neck is bruised. Bald spots, though small, glow white on her head where the black hair has uprooted to wash down her robe and clump at her feet. It’s like she has radiation sickness.

What have they done to her? Will she die?

I want to save her.

But covenists are in the trees, watching.

Saint Thomas limps toward us. He finds the staff that I propped against a tombstone and joins me at the edge of the metallic circle.

“Beware,” he greets me. He performs the neck strangle with a pleasant smile on his face. Whatever his mania, he seems to have recovered from it. “Should I doubt your sanity?” He asks, rattling the keys on his neck chain at me. “Clearly, you are a traveler, which is an insane occupation in Memento Mori. Unless, of course, you are on pilgrimage to unveil the secret identity of the Incarnate Holy Ghost. To beckon his Presence upon Memento Mori. If so, I have a proposal.”

Relieved that he doesn’t seem to remember I’m an exorcist, I ponder what to say about Memento Mori’s Holy Ghost as I try to figure out how to save Elspeth when the witches are watching me. “I read a headline that said He was dead,” I admit.

“A sinful untruth.”

“Okay. Good. Can this Holy Ghost really get me and my friends back home, like I’ve been told? To our world?”

His chest puffs. “I am Saint Thomas. Perhaps you have heard of me? Why not ask
me
to get you home?”