Elegy

  “I saved Joshua’s life,” I whispered.

  Her smile grew even brighter. “You saved his life. And that act of kindness showed the light who you really, truly are. So, even though they determined that you still weren’t quite ready, the Highest Powers decided to give you extra abilities that could save you from the darkness. That’s why you have that protective glow and the ability to harm those who might try to hurt you. The Highest Powers also gave you a connection to everyone whose life you’ve saved since: Joshua and Jillian. That’s why you can touch both of them.”

  I snorted. “Well, that’s not true at all. I haven’t been able to touch anyone since the Lazarus spell.”

  She raised one eyebrow and gave me a suggestive smile. “Oh really? Because that’s not what it looked like in the Mayhews’ front yard the other night.”

  The kiss. She was referring to that inexplicable kiss.

  “But . . . but how?” I sputtered. “How did I touch him, just that once, when I haven’t been able to for months?”

  Melissa shook her head. “Not everything that Gabrielle told you about your current state was true. She thought that you couldn’t touch anyone just because you couldn’t touch Felix. But you can still touch those people you saved. Only the Highest Powers can take that ability away. It’s just that you now need—what should I call it?—extreme concentration.”

  I leaned back, stunned. Then, after I’d thought through a few things, I began to speak haltingly.

  “If I’m hearing you right,” I said, “then I have all these—I don’t know—extra-ghostly abilities, because I did something out of the ordinary. But . . . it had nothing to do with some unknown quality of mine. It was a reward for my willingness to protect the living. Right?”

  Melissa nodded emphatically, her red curls bouncing. “Right. Which is why you’re so lucky.”

  I closed my eyes, tuning her out as she droned on about why I was “so lucky.” Right now, I had more important things to think about. Like what it meant if the things Melissa said were true. Was she right when she said that these extra abilities—the capacity to touch those I’d saved, the protective glow—could have been granted to any ghost, if they’d done what I had?

  If that was truly the case, then I was . . . thrilled.

  In fact, the longer I thought about it, the more it felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted off of me. Because I’d concluded something that Melissa hadn’t said.

  My afterlife wasn’t predestined.

  Even if the “Highest Powers” or the universe or whatever had granted me extra abilities, that hadn’t happened by some random twist of fate. It had happened because of my choices. I was this ghost, this person, because I chose to help people. I chose to fight.

  The demons, the light, even Ruth, who used her final words to beg me to disappear—none of them knew what would happen to me until it actually did. They could plot and plan and scheme all they wanted, but I still had power over my own future. I still had the power to decide.

  This realization brought with it an almost overwhelming sense of relief.

  And somehow, the realization made things with Joshua seem better, too. He and I had been thrown together by chance, not fate. We weren’t star-crossed lovers, moving on some doomed, predetermined path. We were just two souls who saw each other, and in seeing, loved.

  That simple bond was stronger than any supernatural connection. Stronger than any threat posed to us by the afterworlds. For the first time since the demons had threatened me, I allowed myself to hope.

  I opened my eyes to find Melissa staring quizzically at me.

  “Didn’t you listen to anything I just said?” she asked, clearly exasperated. “I’m asking you again to come into the light now. To join us. Tonight.”

  I arched one eyebrow. “What do you mean? You’re ready to—what?—finally let me go to heaven now, after what happened on the bridge?”

  Melissa smiled in confirmation, but I couldn’t help my dry laugh.

  “You know, a friend of mine taught me that you don’t get one blessing without giving up another. So . . . what’s the catch?”

  Melissa shook her head, frowning as if I’d disappointed her with the question. “Like I said earlier, Gabrielle Callioux wasn’t all-knowing.”

  I flinched. “‘Wasn’t all-knowing’? Are you telling me that Gaby doesn’t exist anymore?”

  “My best guess is that she’s with Eli and a lot of other lost souls,” Melissa said, “somewhere in the darkness beyond the gateway at High Bridge. In a place you can’t reach her.”

  “I won’t accept that,” I said automatically. “I could try to reach her. I saw her tonight—I know she’s not beyond help. With light on my side, I could try.”

  Melissa winced. “No, technically you couldn’t. If you accept my offer, then you’ll be bound by the same rules that I am. I guess that’s part of the ‘catch.’ You’ll have to give up your desire to save people once they’ve entered the netherworld. And you’ll have to remove yourself from the living world. That means no more visits to your mother. No more nights with Joshua. In fact, you don’t get to ‘protect’ any of your living friends . . . unless, of course, we end up claiming them after they die. You’ll be a guardian of our gateway . . . not a guardian angel.”

  My stomach pitched, even though I wasn’t exactly surprised by this ultimatum. After all, everyone—from Seers to demons to pieces of filth like the former Kade LaLaurie—wanted to keep Joshua and me apart. Why should a guardian of goodness and light be any different?

  As it stood, Melissa’s offer didn’t sound very appealing. Not if it meant abandoning my father and Gaby and forsaking my mother and Joshua and all my other friends in the living world. I’d all but made up my mind, when Melissa shifted closer and shook her head at me.

  “You’re going to say no—I can see it in your eyes. But before you do, Amelia, there’s something else you should know about the person who told me to find you in the living world, while you were still wandering unclaimed.”

  “I don’t care,” I muttered, fighting a losing battle with my anger. “I don’t care about any more of your explanations or stories. You’re delusional if you think I’ll give up on everyone I love just to save myself. I won’t stop protecting my mom and Joshua; I won’t stop trying to find a way to save Gaby and my father.”

  “Ah, but that’s the thing,” Melissa said, her eyes suddenly sparkling. “You don’t have to save your father.”

  I gave her a withering look. “You think that I would just leave him there? In the netherworld?”

  Melissa shocked me by laughing. “Amelia, your father has never set one toe in the netherworld. It may surprise you to find this out, but he’s my friend.”

  I felt my heart drop. My hands splayed upon the grass, clutching at it in an effort to anchor myself to something stable.

  “What . . . what are you saying?” I breathed. “That he’s here? That he’s safe?”

  When Melissa nodded, I dove forward, plucking her hands from her lap and grasping them tightly in mine. “Let me see him,” I begged. “Please, let me see him.”

  “I can’t,” she said, looking genuinely sorry. She gave my hands a light squeeze. “I wish I could, but he and I have already broken so many rules with you: waking you up; giving you the visions in New Orleans; letting him speak to you—”

  “That was really him?” I interrupted. “The first time you brought me to this field? And earlier today?”

  “Yeah, it was really him. He misses you, Amelia. He wants you here.”

  I shook free of her hands and fell back onto the seat of my jeans. This new piece of information changed things. I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

  Almost reflexively, I pictured my father’s face: his sunny blond hair; his easy smile; the crinkles around his vibrant green eyes. The man who’d tied my first shoe and taught me to ride a bike. The man I’d sought for the last few months, under the misguided assumption that he’d been trapped in the nether
world.

  If my father really did serve the light, then that meant Eli hadn’t claimed my father’s soul when he died. I guess that explained why Eli seemed so confused when I accused him of my father’s death. Maybe I shouldn’t have let it happen, but at that moment, a tiny part of my heart forgave Eli. And another part forgave Melissa for treating me this way, when I realized that she’d probably been the one to usher my father into this beautiful afterworld.

  Thinking of those people I needed to forgive, another question struck me. “Is . . . Ruth up there?” I asked quietly. “In the light?”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? That woman would bring down the whole system if we let her go anywhere else. Besides, she gave her life in an attempt to save all of you—a fact that she’s not going to let us forget anytime soon. She’s been here less than an hour and she’s already trying to run the place.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh softly. Then I looked back down, studying the tiny threads in the knees of my jeans. I didn’t really see them—instead, I saw my father’s face again. Heard his voice, telling me to be brave, to do what I knew was right.

  “What if I wanted to do something else first?” I whispered. “Before I enter heaven so that I can escape hell?”

  I couldn’t see Melissa’s reaction to my question, but I sensed curiosity in her silence. Finally, she asked, “What is it that you want to do, Amelia?”

  “Destroy the netherworld,” I said in a rush, looking back up at her. “I want to destroy the netherworld.”

  Melissa shook her head. “Haven’t the last few days been any indication that you can’t? Besides, the netherworld is eternal, just like this prairie—just like heaven and hell themselves.”

  My heart sank, but only until my next thought struck me. “What about the gateways into the netherworld? Are they eternal too?”

  “Well . . . no,” Melissa replied, blinking in surprise. “They can be taken down, actually. I know that it’s been done before, millennia ago—pretty spectacularly in Gomorrah, so I’ve heard.” When Melissa saw my hopeful expression, however, she shook her head. “But a human can’t do that, Amelia. Not even a ghost can. Only the Highest Powers themselves can do that.”

  Frowning, I asked, “By Highest Powers, do you just mean the rulers of light?”

  “No, I mean all of them—the rulers of darkness and light. Only they have the power to destroy the gateways. . . .” Melissa trailed off when she saw my grim, triumphant smile. She didn’t really know me as well as she thought she did, but even she could see that I was beginning to form a new plan.

  “Amelia,” she asked, “what are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that I want you to make me a deal. A deal that involves more souls than just mine.”

  “Go on,” Melissa said, with a note of caution in her voice.

  “If I do something to the High Bridge gateway, if I find a way to close it from the inside, then I want the light to take not only my soul, but the souls of those people who helped me.”

  Immediately, Melissa began to shake her head. “You know I can’t make that kind of—”

  “Think about it,” I interrupted. “Just think about it.”

  She opened her mouth to say something else, and then thought better of it. After another moment’s hesitation, she said, “All right. I’ll present your idea to the Highest Powers. I don’t know if they’ll go for it, but . . . I’ll try.”

  I gave a sigh of relief, and then asked, “When will I know whether or not they’ve said yes?”

  She smiled sadly and stood, brushing grass off her tunic. “You won’t. You’ll just have to make the leap of faith that they’ll answer your prayers.”

  Then Melissa held my gaze, obviously trying to figure me out. I thought that she might say something more—give me another unsolicited piece of advice about my future. But as we stared silently at each other, the air began to shimmer and blur around us. Suddenly, the field seemed hazy and insubstantial. Looking at it made my eyes hurt so I blinked, just once. When I opened my eyes, I could once again see the interior of the gazebo, yet the scent of summer still lingered in the air like perfume. Like a hint of happiness. Of a place I’d only dreamed of, and might finally, finally see . . . but only if I didn’t fail. And only if they said yes.

  Chapter

  NINETEEN

  For a long time I sat in the gazebo by myself, puzzling over the things Melissa had explained, and struggling with the choice she’d given me. With the plan that I’d barely begun to form.

  My father. My father. If I believed everything that Melissa told me, then he was waiting for me in the light. So it should have been an easy choice. But obviously, it wasn’t.

  If it was just a simple matter of choosing between heaven and hell, between the total absence of my father and an eternity in his presence, I would have already made my decision. Especially since neither light nor dark seemed content to let me stay here, in the living world. But the decision became far more complicated when I thought about Gaby, Serena, Eli, and all those trapped in the netherworld. Not to mention those I loved here, on earth, like Joshua, my mother, and the Mayhew family. My head literally ached from the sheer impossibility of it all.

  But I wasn’t the only person with too much to handle. Many of those living people I loved were mourning right now. So I peeled my body off the daybed, cleaned myself up as best I could without a mirror or a change of clothes, and then slipped out of the gazebo surreptitiously since I wasn’t technically supposed to be in there in the first place.

  Luckily, none of the Mayhews seemed to have left the house yet—all their cars were still in the driveway, parked in the same haphazard formation that they’d taken late last night. I climbed the patio steps and knocked softly on the back door. I didn’t even realize I’d been holding my breath until Jillian opened it—now I wouldn’t have to awkwardly dodge Rebecca’s hug like I usually did. But still, the sight of Jillian disturbed me. Her eyes were ringed red, and her beautiful hair was ratted up on one side as though she’d thoughtlessly twisted it in her fingers all night.

  “Come on in,” she rasped, stepping out of the way so that I could enter the back hallway. After we both walked into the kitchen, Jillian announced, “Amelia’s here.” Rebecca caught my eye and, when her face crumpled into tears, I hurried around the far side of the breakfast table to take a seat beside Joshua.

  “Oh, Amelia, honey, thank you for coming over,” Rebecca said, trying very hard to talk around a sob.

  “Of course, Mrs. Mayhew. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

  I meant it, too. Once I saw Joshua’s face, everything about last night’s battle—and everything about my offer from the light and the plan I’d started to consider—just faded away. He looked so worn, so defeated, that I nearly sobbed, too.

  I could tell that it wasn’t just the loss of his grandmother that had almost broken him, although that loss would’ve been bad enough by itself; but Joshua was also crushed by our loss of the battle. He’d genuinely thought we had a chance, especially with Ruth on our side. Now, my sunny-eyed optimist had started to accept the fact that this story might not have a happy ending. Although he’d never really suffered a crisis of faith before, he certainly did so now.

  Thinking back on what Melissa had said about my abilities, I concentrated hard on Joshua: on the way I felt about him, on the way I’d always felt about him. I ignored the frustration and grief and uncertainty, and just focused on him. Then I reached over, very slowly, and wrapped my hand around his upon the tabletop.

  He jerked at the touch, almost as though he’d received an electric jolt like the ones we used to give each other. This touch, however, was just like what we’d experienced the other night: solid, and real. Joshua’s eyes widened and darted to mine questioningly. I gave him one small nod and, keeping my hand tight on his, turned back to his parents.

  Jeremiah had been on the phone when I’d entered the kitchen, and he was still talking to what sounded like a re
lative. Every few words, he would stop to rub his bloodshot eyes.

  “Yeah, it’s going to be this Friday morning. We’ll take the kids out of school for the whole day.” He paused, and then added, “No, we’ll just hold the service graveside, like we did for Dad.”

  Dread started to prickle along my neck: another funeral, only a week after the last one that I’d attended; another event during which the darkness might attack.

  I’d just started to imagine all the horrible things that could happen during the funeral, when Jeremiah mentioned the name of the cemetery where the service would take place. It was a traditional, well-kept cemetery on the edge of town—a site where the relatively affluent were buried. Most important, it wasn’t my graveyard, which seemed to be a hotbed of supernatural activity. The different location didn’t guarantee anything, nor did the fact that the demons didn’t actually claim Ruth. Still, I felt a touch calmer as I tuned back in to the last portion of Jeremiah’s phone conversation.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head, “don’t worry about it, Trish: I’ll get you guys some cabins at Robber’s Cave. You tell everyone else to make reservations at the Express hotel. Then we’ll just see you Thursday night, okay? Okay . . . okay, bye.”

  With a weary sigh, he returned the phone to its cradle and turned toward his family. “Well, the whole Louisiana clan will be here Thursday night. I’m going to get a cabin for Trish, Ben, and the girls, and another one for Penny and Drew. The rest of the family can get rooms at the hotel.”

  While Rebecca, Joshua, and Jillian processed this information numbly, I got lost in my thoughts. One detail from these travel arrangements stood out in particular: Annabel, Drew, and maybe even Hayley would be in town, in just a few days. This meant that I would have access to the young Seers of New Orleans, all of whom had inadvertently betrayed me but all of whom had also helped me defeat a huge gathering of demons.

  Suddenly, my plan began to take further shape in my mind.

  I got so wrapped up in it that I hardly noticed when Joshua tried to get my attention. Only after he placed his other hand on the tabletop did I glance over at him. He frowned, shifting his gaze between his hands and mine, which was still lying on the table. I hadn’t even felt him let go of it.