Shimmer (7 page)

I was more than ready to bolt, eager to get back to that snow globe from hell where Bodhi and Buttercup were in desperate need of my help. But just like before, the one thing I wanted most at that moment happened to be in direct opposition to the one thing I did.

Instead of leaving, instead of bidding adios to the prince, I turned, turned until I was looking right at him again, and tried to explain the confusing array of emotions I’d felt—emotions I would happily choose to never experience again. But now that I’d felt them, now that those awful scenes had entered my mind, I knew there was no getting rid of them.

Later, they might get tucked away somewhere dark and not often visited, but it’s not like they’d ever really vanish completely. It’s not like they’d ever disappear.

Once introduced, they’d stay with me forever.

There was no emotional dumping ground for that sort of thing.

And before I knew it, I was back in the hut. Leaning against one of the bamboo sticks that held up the roof, avoiding his gaze as I searched for a way to explain. Part of me wanting to say something sassy, snarky—the kind of thing my mom refers to as
mouthy.

I mean, how did he think I perceived what I’d seen? How would any sane person—either living or dead—perceive it?

The words practically leapt off my tongue, begging to be heard, but then, when I looked at him again, when my blue eyes stared into his dark brown ones, well, those words disappeared as a whole string of new ones jumped into their place.

“At first, I was amazed that you were really a prince. I thought for sure you lied about that.” I snuck a quick peek at him, relieved to see that he looked a lot closer to amused than offended, which I took as a sign to continue. “I felt awful when you lost everything, and even worse when I saw the beatings you suffered. And when the revolt began, well, I was seriously ready to cheer, but then…” I hesitated, seeing the way he urged me on with his rising brow and nodding head. “But then, it all started to seem like some horrible cycle of violence. Especially when I realized that the slaves were revolting so they could take over and bring in a whole new set of slaves. And it just seemed so pointless. Like a battle no one could ever truly win. An endless cycle of abuse, and it left me really sad.”

He half smiled again. Reminding me of the way the sun would peek out from the clouds on an overcast day on the earth plane, just long enough to bestow a brief hint of warmth before disappearing again and turning everything gray.

And that’s pretty much the exact moment when my second goal was added.

After making sure that Bodhi and Buttercup were freed from Rebecca’s trap, I was determined to see the prince smile for real.

Watching as he rose quickly to his feet and said, “You are right. It is a vicious cycle indeed. During my reign as prince, I kept my own set of slaves until my castle was invaded and I was sold as a slave and sent here—only to revolt against my master with the hope of taking over the island and enslaving others in the same way I’d been.” He shook his head and took his time in looking me over. “I have seen both sides of this madness, and now, after sharing that with you, and because of your deep understanding, you are ready to make the journey inside Rebecca’s world.”

12

“You will never succeed with such a method. You are going about it all wrong.”

We were standing just outside of the bubble—

No, scratch that.

The truth is Prince Kanta was standing just outside the bubble while
I
was pressed up against it, pounding and kicking the smooth, glossy exterior with every bit of my (undeniably measly) strength.

I glanced over my shoulder, not even trying to hide my annoyance. “Oh, yeah? So why don’t you come over and help instead of just standing there watching me fail. Why don’t you show me how it’s done, if you know so much?”

But the prince made no move to help. He just remained right where he was. Neither flinching nor wincing—not reacting to my tone or my words in any way, shape, or form. In fact, he was so still and serious, I actually wondered if he’d heard me. Though I’d yelled it so loudly, I was pretty sure it’d been impossible to miss.

I’d just turned back to the globe and was about to start pounding again when he said, “You will never succeed with resistance, Riley. In this case, as in most cases, resistance just begets more resistance. Or, in other words, what you resist—persists. Acceptance is the only way.”

Oh, brother.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, annoyed to the point where I no longer cared if he saw.

As far as I was concerned, it was just a whole lot of psychobabble, more crazy talk coming right up, and it was getting me nowhere. For whatever reason, rather than actually helping me, he’d chosen to distract me, annoy me, and just generally waste my time instead. And once again, I’d found that I’d pretty much reached my limit with him.

I narrowed my gaze, glaring at him in such a way that I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if great plumes of smoke shot out from my nose and my ears. My voice harsh, edgy, making absolutely no further attempt at good manners, little niceties, or the smallest of pleasantries, when I said, “Listen, maybe you mean well, maybe you don’t, only you know for sure. But either way, I think you need to know that I’m pretty much done listening to these crazy philosophical riddles that I doubt even you understand.” I pushed my long, side-swept bangs off my face, tried to tuck them back behind my ears, but being just a smidgen too short, they fell right back into my eyes, so I decided to leave them there. “So either you help me break into this bubble so I can free my friends, or—”

Our eyes met.

“Or you …
don’t
.” I lifted my shoulders, knowing that as far as threats went, it was a pretty pathetic one, but still, at that moment, it was the best I could do. “Either way, I have no time to waste, so if you don’t mind—”

I returned to the bubble, my fist rising high above my head, just about to bring it back down and smash it hard against the side, when it was caught in midair by the prince.

His fingers circled my wrist, as his eyes bore into mine. Then slowly, with no cooperation on my part, he unfolded my fingers, one at a time. Straightening and spreading them as he lowered my palm and gently placed it onto the bubble until it was flush against the surface, his face calm, eyes kind, softly cooing in a way that strangely sent a soothing wave of calm coursing through me.

“Shhh…”
He looked at me. “You must remain quiet, peaceful, and still. You must accept the situation you now find yourself in. All of this fighting—all of this
resistance
—is only making it worse. Rebecca thrives on anger. It is the fuel that fires her world. And you, Miss Riley Bloom, are only aiding her.” He paused for a moment, long enough to make sure I was listening, before he continued. “Your friends are trapped, there is no getting around that. But rather than fighting what
is,
you must first learn to accept it. Only then will you clear a path in your mind that will lead you to the solution.”

I looked at him, looked right into those deep, mysterious eyes, and I started to say:
What?

Started to say:
Are you crazy? Why should I even think about accepting such a horrible thing—when I have to do whatever it takes to stop it?

But before I could get to any of that, the strangest thing happened.

The bubble’s surface, the reflective, rounded part that lay just under my fingers, began to soften and give just the tiniest bit.

I looked at Prince Kanta, my eyes wide, jaw practically dropped to my knees, seeing him nod, press his finger briefly to his lips, and then motion for me to place my other hand just beside it.

So I did.

And the same thing happened again.

The surface continuing to conform and give as he said, “Rather than fighting the bubble, you must learn to accept it.” He moved into place, positioning himself right next to me and pressing his palms against it in the same way I did. “Are you familiar with the cornstarch-and-water experiment?”

I looked at him, my voice high-pitched and screechy as I blurted, “Oobleck!” Remembering the day at summer camp when the counselors separated us all into small groups, then handed us each a bowl filled with a pile of cornstarch and water they’d mixed together, and how surprised I was when they told us to make a fist and pound on it as hard as we could, only to find my fist bouncing right back. It was impossible to penetrate, or at least not by force anyway. “If you try to force your way into the mix by pounding it or jabbing it, it doesn’t work. It …
resists
.” My eyes grew wide as I gazed at him, suddenly understanding what he’d been trying to tell me all along. “But if you press slowly and gently—”

“Then your fingers sink right in.” He nodded, his expression showing how pleased he was that I finally understood, even though he refused to grant me a smile. “So you must think of the bubble as this—”

“Oobleck.” I nodded.

“You must
accept
that your friends are inside,
accept
that Rebecca is very angry and will do all that she can to work against you,
accept
all of that as your current reality, and then once you’ve accepted what
is,
you are free to proceed without the need to force anything.” He paused, making sure I understood, and I’m happy to say that I did.

“There are many trapped inside, many others whom you’ve never met, but who are in need of your help nonetheless. I must tell you that I have dreamed that the glowing ones would arrive one day, and now that you are here, I am very much pleased.”

He continued to speak, but I was no longer listening. All I could focus on was the part about the
glowing ones
.

While my glow may not have been
all that
—while it may have only been a
barely there
green (as Bodhi was so quick to point out)—it was there nonetheless.

Radiant enough to where even Prince Kanta had seen it.

Radiant enough to where he thought I might be of some help.

“Once we are inside, in order to help them, in order to
release
them, we must learn the stories that keep them imprisoned in order to compassionately free them from their own pasts.”

I looked at him, acknowledging that while he was definitely weird, a bit of an oddball for sure, I was still glad to have him around, since I was pretty sure that, glow or no glow, I wasn’t really all that equipped to tackle the job on my own.

I watched as he pressed up against the bubble, moved himself so close his entire body, including his nose and his face, were pressed flush against it. Then, with a quick wave of his fingers, he motioned for me to follow suit.

And after positioning myself the same way as he had, we closed our eyes and melded with the surface, and not long after, we found ourselves inside.

13

It was different from before.

Last time it’d been more personal.

An exact replica of my kindergarten classroom.

A hell made exclusively for me.

And though the scenery had suffered some pretty dramatic changes, I was relieved to find it changed in a more general, less individual kind of way.

While it wasn’t exactly the hell of flames and pitchforks and devil horns one might expect when visiting such a place, it was still dark and dreary and hellish in its own right.

It was also so quiet and desolate and calm, I had the odd sensation of being plopped down in the middle of a still life or a landscape. Only instead of the glistening streams and sun-dappled gardens you often see in oil paintings, this one was a completely dry and barren scene. Created from a palette of varying shades of blacks, grays, and deep reddish browns—like a forest unable to overcome the lasting effects of a fire that raged a long time before. Leaving nothing but burned-out tree carcasses, dried up lake beds, and a never-ending deluge of thick squares of ash that rose and swirled and circled and swooped only to fall once again.

“Where are we?” I whispered. Even though I didn’t see Rebecca or anyone else, for some reason, I was afraid of being overheard.

“We are inside her world.” Prince Kanta turned till he was facing me, his mouth drawn, face serious, as he said, “Both Rebecca’s heart and soul have become so soiled with anger and hate, this is the result.”

I looked all around, curious to see what else there might be, how far it might go, and if it was actually possible to see the rounded, sloping smooth walls that separated us from everything else. But while I couldn’t see much of anything besides a whole lot of scorched earth, it’s not like I was curious enough to venture off on my own. I was far too reluctant to leave the prince’s side, and though I had no way of knowing just how bad it might get, I was pretty sure this was only the beginning of what that evil little ghost girl had in store.

Besides, it’s not like I had time for a tour. I needed to find Bodhi and Buttercup as quickly as possible, so we could get the heck out of there.

“Does she know we’re here?” I asked, sensing the answer well before I saw his nodding head.

“Oh, yes. This is her world. She is aware of everything that occurs here.”

“So what now?” I gazed up at the prince and bit down on my lip, hoping he’d have a good idea or two, since I hadn’t a clue. “Where do we find them? Where do we go? What do we do?”

But even though I was fully resolved to following his lead, Prince Kanta just looked at me and said, “The journey is mostly here.” He tapped the side of his head, the space between his temple and ear, before adding, “And less here.” He arced his arm out before him, motioning toward an expanse of scorched earth.

And seeing that, well, I have to admit it took pretty much all of my willpower not to groan and roll my eyes, but somehow I refrained. No matter how grateful I was to have him around, there was no doubt he was a bit of a nutcase. Still, he had been through an awful lot, experienced the kinds of things that would definitely end up testing the sanity of just about anybody, and so, with that in mind, I decided to do my best not to judge, which, I hate to admit, was really quite a stretch for me.