Grounded for All Eternity, page 4
“Shut up,” Crowley said.
Translation: Malachi, stop being a loser and ruining our only entertainment of the week.
“I’m just saying,” I protested, and almost immediately wanted to slap myself. What was my problem? Why was I channeling my dad?
“Wait, what did you say about Samuel Parris?” Lilith asked. “Is that who the escapee is?”
I was secretly pleased that I knew something she didn’t. Lilith was impressed by knowledge, and I couldn’t help the proud smirk that curved the edges of my mouth.
“Yeah, I heard my parents talking,” I said. “Eighth circle, I think.”
“Huh, a manipulator. I wonder what he did.” Lilith looked lost in thought for a moment and then shook it off. “Anyway, the fence is up, we’re fine. Even if his soul wanted to escape through here, it would have to have been in town before the lockdown started, and there’s no way that happened.”
This sounded fair, and Lilith was generally right about… pretty much everything.
After all, the bells were sounded as soon as a soul left its assigned circle, and the lockdown happened automatically when they rang. Samuel Parris would never have been able to make it from the Pit, through the surrounding wasteland, past the security systems of the metropolitan areas of Dagon and Thoth, and all the way over to our quiet little suburb before our flames soared and our fence closed.
Wherever that escaped soul was, it was out there somewhere, struggling its way through the brimstone geysers of the wasteland or the salespeople of Thoth.
Which meant I could enjoy my own escape worry-free. Score!
“I’ve never seen a way open up before,” Aleister said, and everyone shook their heads in agreement.
“Me either,” Lilith said.
Crossing the dimensions was only ever allowed through approved openings, with special permission given out for Very. Good. Reasons. Boredom wasn’t one of them.
My parents had crossed, of course, but Mom said it was just a bunch of paperwork and bureaucracy to leave home for nothing special. She said I wasn’t missing anything. She clearly didn’t understand my interests. What could be more exciting than an adventure somewhere new?
The shimmering grew brighter, and it was almost as if the fence and the forest behind it didn’t exist at all anymore.
“Dare you to touch it,” Crowley said, an evil smile lighting his eyes.
“No way,” Aleister said, taking a half step back.
“C’mon, Mal, touch it,” Crowley teased.
“You touch it,” I said. As if I’d do something just because Crowley wanted me to; crossroads dealmaker he was not. Though he should have been allowed to be one if he wanted to. Who was to say he wouldn’t have been excellent at making deals with humans if he was allowed to try?
“Coward,” Crowley said, and I laughed derisively.
Aleister got a stick, and we all crept closer to the veil. Aleister pushed the stick toward the shimmering spot, and the end disappeared. He pulled it back. The stick seemed unharmed. Crowley picked up a rock and tossed it through. The rock disappeared without a sound. The veil rippled like water.
“Weird,” Lilith said. Her eyes sparkled in excitement. I loved when her eyes sparkled.
“Where do you think it goes?” asked Aleister. “Earth?”
“Maybe it just goes to another hereafter,” Crowley said.
He had a point.
Openings in the veil could take you to lots of places. Since it was Samhain and the veil was thinnest between the mortal coil and the great hereafters, it seemed more likely that it went to Earth or one of the other mortal dimensions, but it could potentially go to Purgatory, where those who seemed redeemable went, or even Heaven, or any number of other dimensions. There really was no telling… well, not from this side of it anyway.
“The alert predicted that it went to Earth. What, you want to test it?” Lilith asked in disbelief. Something in her tone suggested an eagerness to do just that.
“Go on, Mal,” Crowley said. “Go check it out. Tell us if that’s really the mortal coil through there.”
“You first,” I scoffed, though I had to admit I had the urge to try it. I had been stuck inside for way too long.
“Is that an order?” asked Crowley, smirking as my temper flared enough to send the flames flickering in my eyes and make my wings spread a little.
We jostled each other and kept throwing rocks, leaves, and sticks through the veil, taunting and daring each other to cross the veil, or at least put a hand in, maybe a toe?
We kept moving closer.
Lilith’s excited laughs, higher-pitched than our mocking tones, ran a thrill up my spine. Soon we were stretching our hands closer, seeing who would be bravest.
My hand was nearly touching the veil. I swore I could feel something along my palm, something faint like bubbles popping against my skin.
This was so unlike me. Okay, I was daring and adventurous, charming, and generally awesome, but there was that little sense of responsibility that always kept me from doing the truly stupid, despite what my father may have thought. Still, I leaned closer…
And then suddenly I was through, a feeling like icy water plunging over my body, and I fell, slamming face-first onto a concrete street.
SEVEN
What the everlasting fire!” I shouted, instantly angry. Freaking Crowley!
I turned to curse him out for pushing me, but no one was there.
I looked forward, and rather than foliage and a shimmering fence, there was a busy street with “people,” which didn’t look anything like what I was used to. The older-looking “people” were walking, children were running, and the sky was blue.
The sky was blue.
I had never seen a color like that in the sky. Nothing so bright and infinite. I didn’t like it. I sat up, absentmindedly brushing my hands on my pants, rubbing the dirt out of my skin.
At home the flames cast a homey orange glow that reached upward from the horizon, fading to a comforting black at the top of the sky and cradling our neighborhood like a cozy blanket. Warm and dark and safe, just like home should be.
This… this was not warm and cozy. This was cold and clear, sterile. Instead of snuggling us in warmth, this sky was like an observation window, and I felt like I was the one in the tank. This was not just another part of home. Was I in another hereafter? No, that didn’t feel right. Where could I be?
You know, you never think remembering how many dimensions there are is important when they talk about it in school.
Looking around, I saw that each person glowed with a soft aura, and I knew instinctively that the aura predicted their final destinations; red were ours; blue were Heaven’s, and the murky swirls of gray were those whose destinies weren’t so clear. Those would sway either one way or another or be judged in the afterlife. Possibly they would simply languish in Limbo as lost souls.
I was momentarily cheered that the blue and gray auras outnumbered the red by huge quantities. Fewer souls for us meant less work, which meant home didn’t need me to fulfill any stupid predestined role. They could do without me. Metal vehicles, souls waiting for their hereafters, terrifying blue sky. Check, check, check. The alert had been right. I was on Earth.
Aw, brimstone.
I was so going to kick Crowley’s butt, but when I turned around, there still was no shimmering, no fence, no veil of any kind. I waved my hands vaguely in front of me, but nothing. No tingling. No disappearing. Just empty air.
That was when the panic set in.
Dad had freaked when I’d left the house to skateboard, even though I was literally on the house. What would he do if he realized I had left not only the house but the entire dimension?
I tried to think, but my brain decided to turn into an alarm system of noise and static, which made thinking remarkably difficult. My parents went to Earth only for business, with the proper paperwork and through the proper gates. They may have said more, but it was all “blah, blah, blah.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat, which was not from being close to crying or anything like that. All I had to do was get from the mortal coil back to the great hereafter. My great hereafter. This wasn’t a problem. Humans did it all the time. This wasn’t a big deal. Think, Malachi. Think.
I blinked my eyes rapidly for no reason in particular (certainly not to clear unshed tears away) and began walking. The opening had to be nearby. It had to be, and I was sure I’d feel it whenever I found it. It was Samhain. The veil was thin. I’d be okay. I’d be back in no time, and then I’d kill Crowley.
That cheered me slightly.
The human kids, who seemed to be everywhere, ran from door to door, yelling and screaming. The craziest thing was that no one seemed to mind! Adults opened their doors and bribed the kids to leave by dropping handfuls of stuff into the bags the children carried.
There were a few imps and other creatures running around that at first made me feel a little better about Earth, but then I realized that the tails, fangs, and other features were all fake—nothing more than costumes.
Disappointing.
And also, slightly offensive.
In fact, now that I knew what was imitation, I realized that despite the glowing auras, humans looked a lot like powers—wingless powers, of course, but the hair and skin came in the same range of shades. There were so many, though, it seemed to be the only kind of people this world had.
As I was searching my new surroundings, I caught sight of my reflection in a storefront window. For about half a second, I was proud that I only looked slightly worried rather than completely-out-of-my-mind panicked, but then I noticed something so horrific that my brain screeched to a halt.
I was wingless, too. How had I not noticed that?
I stepped closer and turned to look in the glass. My wings were gone. Okay, maybe I had occasionally wished them to be something different, but that was only because I wanted a choice. I didn’t want my wings to dictate who I was, but I loved them. They were strong and sleek, and the black feathers made me look totally awesome. I couldn’t lose them!
I was going to hyperventilate.
I was going to absolutely lose my cool.
I was in another dimension, and I was wingless.
Even worse, I had no idea how to get back.
I was sure I looked ridiculous, frantically searching for any sign of home or help, but for once I couldn’t care less about what anyone thought. Let’s see how calm they would look, being dumped into a strange dimension and missing necessary, and pretty awesome, body parts. A spiteful voice at the back of my mind said, Isn’t that what the crystal is for? Don’t those awesome wings make you feel trapped? But what did that voice know? Nothing, that’s what.
A major freak-out was just on the verge of taking over when I saw it. A small sign, but it caught my eye anyway: SALEM WITCH HOUSE. That was just what I needed. A witch could help me get back home, no problem.
Good thing I had kept my head. That’s me, confidence under pressure.
EIGHT
The village was covered in pictures of witches. Seriously, everywhere. On signs, windows, and even some of the weird vehicles, so I was optimistic that the witch was powerful enough to get me home. Having a goal kept me focused, and I found the house easily.
“Brimstone,” I cursed. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had sought out the witch.
There was a line of humans that wrapped around the house. I considered marching to the front, but it was probably best to get an idea of how this witch worked and not do anything to offend them, so I did what most people did when in the presence of a line: I stood at the end of it.
The line was slow-moving and would have been worse if I wasn’t so fascinated by seeing real humans in the flesh. Curious, I poked one. They felt the same as us, but it was fascinating to see my finger sink through that glowing aura.
Eventually I discovered that humans didn’t like to be poked, and so then I was just standing in line again, imagining how my parents would choose to kill me when they found out I was here. Assuming I ever got out of here. Assuming I ever got my wings back. And wasn’t that a loaded thought? Best to ignore it.
I bounced on my feet, urging the line to go faster, but if that had ever worked in the history of lines, it wasn’t working now.
“Mo-o-o-o-m-m,” whined a kid in front of me. I wasn’t sure how humans aged, but he looked young, past cute and chubby, but still whiny. “How much longer?”
“We’re almost to the front. Shhh,” hissed the kid’s mother. Both their auras glowed a murky gray, more blue than not, but still room to brighten with a little more goodness.
“This is boring. I wanna go trick-or-treating.”
“We will. After we’re done,” said the mother.
The kid huffed, plopped himself to the ground, and crossed his arms in anger. Right outside a witch’s house! He was so going to be turned into a frog.
The kid looked at me and stuck out his tongue. I frowned. Humans couldn’t read thoughts, could they? No, no way. That was stupid.
The line could give the Pit a run for its money in torture methods. Standing, waiting, never moving, ugh, but it gave me plenty of time to think. A witch would want payment. Normally it would be something unique or rare that the witch could use as a spell ingredient. At home I’d expect to trade a feather from my wings, but, well… you know. I wasn’t sure what else I had to offer.
Instead of letting it all drive me insane, I decided to wonder about the weird term the kid had used, “trick-or-treating.” I knew what tricking was. I mean Hell-o, obviously! And treating was usually paying for someone else, wasn’t it? Like when I paid for Aleister’s ice cream at Frozen Over because he had forgotten his wallet for the sixteen thousandth time.
Whatever trick-or-treating was, the mother didn’t seem overly concerned, and so I was back to waiting.
There was a sign on the outside wall indicating that “Halloween” was sold out and only those with pre-purchased tickets would be admitted, but that didn’t make any sense. Witches didn’t take tickets. They took blood and teeth, feathers and bones, and other spell ingredients. I decided I wouldn’t worry about the sign. It was probably just a trick to fool the unworthy.
“Mom,” the kid insisted.
“Alex,” snapped the mother. “You won’t miss anything. Just please be good.” The kid made an annoyed sound, and the mother looked at her watch. She held slips of paper in her hand, presumably the tickets for the unworthy.
The line moved forward, and a woman near the door called, “Tickets, please” before taking them from people and waving folks through. I jumped at the voice, startled by the first commanding tone I’d heard here, and worried for a moment that the witch had taken me by surprise, but this woman had a name tag on, and no one looked particularly impressed. Just a minion, then. She did seem to care about people having tickets, though, and that could be a problem.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stopping a sharply dressed woman from entering. “We’re completely sold out. You have to already have tickets.”
“I know,” said the woman. “I was just hoping I could buy one. The rest of my group has them, and I wasn’t really planning on being in town. It was kind of a last-minute thing.”
“I understand, but it’s Halloween and we’re fully booked,” said the minion. “We’ll have plenty of space tomorrow.”
The woman argued a little longer before finally waving goodbye to her friends and heading off. I frowned. I had to see that witch, and I had no idea how these so-called tickets were even obtained. Blood contract, probably.
My foot lurched as my sneaker was kicked. I looked down. The annoying kid had sagged lower onto the sidewalk, melting into a slump of boredom personified.
I froze, a plan forming in my mind.
I crouched down. “Hey, kid,” I whispered, glancing up to make sure the mother wasn’t paying attention. The kid, Alex, rolled his eyes to look at me without moving any other part of his body. Impressive. “You know, they’re closing trick-or-treating in five minutes. If you don’t leave now, you’re going to miss it.”
Alex’s eyes widened, and his chest swelled as he took in an enormous breath before jumping to his feet and grabbing his mother’s arm.
“MOM… We-have-to-go-now-we’re-going-to-miss-it.” He punctuated the jumble of words with jumps that pulled his mom’s arm down. The next part happened the way doom always happens, in slow motion.
Her arm jerked. The arm whose hand was holding, as it turned out, a full cup of coffee. Black liquid spilled down the front of her clothes. Alex went silent as his mom gasped. Everyone in line quieted as we watched and pretended not to watch, so that the sound of the paper cup bouncing off the concrete was audible.
Without a word the mother grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled him away from the line, leaving the Witch House altogether. I slid the slips of paper from her hand as she passed.
No tickets? No problem.
NINE
In 1675, Jonathan Corwin was heir to one of the largest Puritan fortunes in New England when he bought this stately home. If you look in here, you can see a typical bedroom of the time. Now, please do stay behind the rope.”
After waiting in line forever, I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting. Maybe not an immediate audience with the witch, but it certainly hadn’t been a boring tour of old furniture.
“Excuse me?” I interrupted. The woman leading the tour smiled at me. I smiled back, because let’s face it, my smile is fantastic. “Where’s the witch?”
She frowned. “Which witch?” She giggled. I grimaced.
“This is the Witch House, right?” I asked, thinking I was pointing out a rather obvious fact.
“Oh, no. We call this the Witch House because it demonstrates the living conditions during the period of the Salem witch trials. But Jonathan Corwin himself was important to the trials. He was a magistrate and would have heard and stood in judgment over the accused.”
