“I don’t think it would have made a difference,” I said.
“Me either,” Madison agreed.
“That’s what sucks. I have this and I can’t use it. What’s the purpose?” Aden complained.
“What’s the point in anything those kids did to us?” Madison said with a moan. “I’m literally miserable - in agony from others’ emotions. Charlie, you’d be nuts if it wasn’t for that necklace you have on. I guess Draven is the winner here.”
“I don’t know about that,” Draven said, glancing back at them as he reached for my hand. “All they did was show me what was already in me - just in time to lose it.”
“If you think we are losing anything, then we’re not doing this,” I argued.
“Let’s just think this through. What do we have to do anyway?” Madison said over me.
“I feel like it has to do with a knife – like, I saw that. I saw seven stairways leading to, like, a platform - the blades piercing our guts,” Aden said with a wince.
I stared out the window, avoiding Draven’s purposeful glances. Knives or no knives, he was going to find a way to do this - and honestly, it was just easier to be mad at him about it.
I wanted Cashton. I wanted him to tell us this was nuts. I unfocused my eyes and pulled myself into my dream, to his place in the veil. I found it empty, looking no different than the way we left it. Where was he?
“Did you see what happened to your body, though?” Madison questioned, bringing me back to reality.
“Yeah, it fell to its knees, blood poured, and that blood flowed down the platform and met the water below – maybe fire. One of the two,” Aden said as he squinted his eyes.
Perfect. That was Monroe’s vision. All signs pointing toward ‘Go’— straight to hell on a one-way ticket.
I could just barely see what he was talking about. The images in his mind were more like flashes. You could not see the entire scene, just sections, like the energy, the crimson blood trickling down aged stone steps. The water he was referring to was more like lava, red flamed through it. In my opinion, he didn’t see enough to say for sure that this was safe. For all I knew, those ideas were planted in his head.
“You feel, or you know?” Draven asked, obviously not seeing any more than I did.
If we counted on this it would be because of what you can never see in another soul, that undeniable ‘gut feeling’ that everyone follows when push comes to shove, that push you feel. To others you look insane for trying, but deep down you know you are supposed to do whatever it is.
“I know, but I don’t know how I know. I remember being told that. I remember planning on doing that, but then all I see is Charlie and you -- like we were going to do that, then just before that life ended we were stopped.”
“By whom?”
“Guess. I’m telling you, every time I saw us die, he was there.”
“Xavier,” we all said at once.
“Yep.”
“You think he stopped us before?” Draven asked, doing his best to mask his rage for this man.
“I think he killed the both of you before the eclipse, taking our chance away,” Madison said just before she winced and clenched her gut.
“What do we solve by killing him?” I asked, letting the peacemaker side of me surface.
“We stop him from all that he does. We release what he has taken,” Aden answered.
“Good point,” Madison agreed.
“And who’s to say that Xavier is really the quote-un-quote head of the snake? What if we are being played by a bigger source of evil who wants us out of the picture? Are we still worried about Monroe’s dad?”
“I don’t know,” Draven said. “Willow and Landen are just about halfway through their trials, halfway through his gateway. He could be pulling the strings. I really think they are not fighting over light and darkness. They are fighting over souls, the power in them.”
“I would agree with that,” I said. “Light and dark are in all souls.”
“We have to decide this together, guys,” Draven said. “I think...I think that if we know there is a way to divide again for sure, we should do this. Take this man down once and for all.”
I gripped his hand. “We would have to be one hundred percent sure.”
He nodded to agree with me.
“Did they say where we are going? Are we sure that box my mom left me is there?”
“The movie set,” Draven said as he turned to follow Landen’s Jeep down another street.
I took in a deep breath, trying to subdue my anxiety - but I was doing a horrible job at it. Madison was in agony.
“Is this going to be safe for these people? I mean, we are basically having an exorcism or something and using their energy to do so. There has to be some kind of wicked karma in store for us if they don’t know.”
“I thought about that,” Draven answered. “Dad knows this producer guy really well. He and his crew are way into the paranormal and such. The stage and all around where the people are going to be is going to be marked off with salt. Everyone is given bags of herbs to wear and told to enter at their own risk.”
“Yeah, but that’s not fair; they will just think it’s part of the show,” I argued.
“They wholeheartedly believe in darkness, witches, ghosts - you name it. They respect their producer, too. If he said to enter at your own risk, they would not take it as a joke. Apparently, they had a few unexplained things happen on the set as they filmed over the last year and a half.”
“All right, then,” Aden said as he relaxed in his seat. “If we know we can undo whatever, then we’ll try to kill that man tonight. If we can’t, at least we can figure out whether or not we can make a difference in that realm, cut off power to it.”
“I don’t know how these shadows are so corporeal. They’re looking for people,” I said glancing at the road we were turning onto.
We’d left the city and were now moving out toward more secluded areas. Large plantation homes were all that we were passing, and most of them were well hidden by massive trees and the moss that was hanging from them.
“A lot of bad stuff has happened here,” Aden said, “and these shadows are hanging on until they find their loved ones. Apparently, Witnesses hang out in towns like this, too, simply because the shadows can tell them where an Escort is and when it’s in action on a mass level.”
“As if one person was not a mass level,” Madison grumbled.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. But I guess those are harder to stop because that one person really thinks they are in love,” Aden said, catching Madison’s gaze.
“I don’t love him. I felt sorry for him. There is a big difference,” she bit out, referring to Britain.
“Can I say ‘Told you so’ just once?” Aden teased, managing to get a grin out of all of us.
“Go ahead. You can’t say or do anything that I haven’t already done to myself.”
“Just don’t rebound,” Aden said as his eyes carefully looked over her.
“If anything, Britain was a rebound.” Her tone was quiet, near ghostly.
Draven quickly looked at me, trying to see what he missed, but I didn’t have anything more than what she’d told me.
As we slowed down to turn into an old plantation, Aden reached out his arm for Madison to come closer, just trying to make her feel better. Suddenly, out of nowhere the Jeep was jolted up for no reason. The back tires were the only thing on the ground then it slammed back to the street.
Our hearts were beating out of control as we fearfully looked around at the other passing cars, the people along the streets. We couldn’t figure out who had attacked us or why.
Chapter Seventeen
Draven turned into the gate that was feet from us just before we all jumped out.
“What the hell?!” Madison bellowed, bending forward in obvious pain.
I ran to her side, trying to make sure she hadn’t hit her head or something.
“Madison, where does it hurt?!” I yelled.
“Inside!” she squealed through her teeth.
Landen, Chrispin, and Willow were there instantly. Willow’s hand calmed her down. Landen looked for anything to heal.
“It’s just her emotions,” he said to us as Willow walked out toward the street, I guess looking for a reason that it happened or following the emotions.
“What emotions? Fear?” I asked.
“They weren’t mine,” she said, taking in a deep, slow breath. “They were of rage, jealousy, betrayal. They came out of nowhere just as the Jeep went in the air.”
“What were you guys talking about? Doing?” Chrispin asked.
“Nothing. They were really calm,” Landen said as his eyes moved between Aden and Madison.
He was right. For a second, it was like old times, Aden teasing Madison just to make it up to her. They may be cousins, but they were more like siblings, best friends.
“If it’s dark, it’s not going to get in this gate. Go ahead and drive up. Austin said your dad and Nana were at the house with Monroe,” Landen directed.
“What if it’s not evil?” I asked as a chill went down my spine. I could swear I could feel those emotions Madison was talking about in the air around me. A harsh stare, to say the least.
Landen raised his eyebrows. “Then I guess I will have to figure out why it’s so jealous.”
Just as he said that, his sister appeared at his side. Clarissa glanced at us, then nodded for Landen to follow her away. I urged Madison in the backseat and sat next to her, determined to block her if I needed to. I didn’t know what was going on, but I already didn’t like this place.
The driveway was lined with massive trees. Even though they were hundreds of feet in the air, the gray moss dangling from their branches touched the ground. Random buses and trailers were lining the way, with people lingering around them.
The house we were told to go to could not be less than two hundred years old. It was massive, two stories tall, with aged white wood siding covering it. The porch itself was at least thirty feet wide, with pillars that were no less than five feet around.
Draven parked at the edge of the circled driveway, behind a semi that was being loaded with equipment. We all climbed out, getting nods and grins from the people who were lining up to add to the trailer’s load.
“You must be Evan’s boys,” an older man said as he stepped off the front porch. He had a thin gray beard and deep crow’s feet stretching out from his eyes. To say the least, he looked like he’d enjoyed both smiling and squinting throughout his entire life. “He’s in the great room off to the side. Looking forward to hearing you boys play the song that we have all heard a million times over the last few weeks.”
Draven reached to shake his hand. “Thanks for using it.”
“No, thank you for writing it. When I heard it, I knew it was perfect for this film,” he said, shaking Draven’s hand back. “I’m going to make sure everyone has their hex bags on. We’ll be ready to go at sundown. We plan on filming you - are you okay with that? Not camera shy, are you?” the man teased.
Draven blushed slightly. “The cameras are the last things I’m scared of tonight.”
“Agreed,” the man said with a wide grin. “I’ll tell you what: I’ve been on a lot of sets, but this one, this one didn’t need any help when it came to picking up on the aged darkness.” His eyes briefly scanned the house behind him as obvious memories of his time here echoed in his inquisitive expression. “We even had sightings. Soldiers would just show up on scene. We thought they were in costume, a joke. You should have seen the assistant producer’s face when he went to move him, but the vision vanished.”
“Are you serious? Were you filming?” Aden asked.
“Trying to. These ghosts, or whatever they are, like to drain batteries - spent more on that than any other expense for this site. We’d catch a wave of light or something, then everything would die. Finally, we just figured out when to film and the power of salt. Much cheaper than buying new equipment or batteries.”
Madison and I looked at each other, then at this guy, like he was insane. You would have thought we were talking about rodents or something.
We politely nodded to the man, then left Aden and Draven to talk to him. If Nana was here I wanted to talk to her.
This house carried every element of an old southern plantation home. It even smelled old; a deep musk was in the air. Parts of the floor squeaked in protest as we crossed it. One second it would be freezing. Walk a few more feet and it would be suffocating.
What looked like old servants - now corporeal shadowed images - crowded around downstairs. They were silent, but their stares were screaming at me. In my mind I could hear gunfire, smell blood, and feel the undeniable emotion of dread.
An image of a little girl gestured what direction we should walk in. I had to hold back tears as my mind played her voice in a forgotten time, yelling for her mother. It was clear she was still silently pleading for a response, still trying to find her mom.
The great room was just past the entry hall, and it looked more like a library than some big living room. Maybe the palace in Esterious had just raised my expectations or something.