The Beholder (14 page)

Chapter 24

They returned to the estate, and after changing their clothes, Emily made them another wonderful meal. Jason sat back with a sigh, feeling as if he were in his very own Parisian restaurant.

“You should be a chef,” he told her, after swallowing a bite of pear drizzled with a caramel sauce.

Emily sipped at her crystal glass of red wine, then set it gently down again. “That’s what my grandfather told me I should do. I loved spending time in the kitchen and helping my mother cook.” She shrugged, then grinned. “I guess I’d do it if we weren’t so busy saving the world from evil.”

When they’d finished, Emily took Jason by the hand. “Come with me,” she said.

“What?”

She winked. “You’ll see.”

They strode out of the kitchen and along a murky corridor lined by a row of doors on both left and right. Jason hadn’t been to this part of the building before, and he was vaguely surprised at the length of the corridor. Emily turned the knob of the last door on the right, then opened the door wide. The spacious room gleamed with floor-to-ceiling mirrors along one wall, and large windows opposite that overlooked the forest. The mirrors reflected the greenery, creating a sort of green penumbra in the room so it appeared as if they were in the middle of the forest.

“It’s a dance hall,” Emily explained. “My grandpa used to teach me dancing. It was like he wanted to teach me everything, but he ran out of time.”

“So we’re going to dance?” Jason asked.

Emily raised her eyes to look into Jason’s, and giggled. “No. We are going to fight.”

Jason frowned. “What? Are you kidding me?”

“Why not? Are you scared of me?” Emily’s eyes danced.

“How can I fight
you
?” Jason asked.

“Ah. So you are scared.” She tilted her head, seeming to assess him. “Well, try punching me then.
If you can
.”

He shook his head. “I’m not going to hit a lady.”

“You’d better. Otherwise you’ll never learn.”

“Really?”

She nodded, smiling with anticipation. After a moment’s hesitation he made a tentative step towards her. When she was at arm’s length he struck a halfhearted blow, not wanting to hurt her. But as his hand moved in the direction of her shoulder, she flickered like a hologram, blurred, then disappeared. His neck suddenly burned with pain, and a second later he lay sprawled on the ground, gasping for oxygen. Emily crouched over him, holding him tightly in place. She looked angry.

“What was that? I told you to punch me,” she said, looking disgusted. “Come on. Don’t spare me. I’m faster than you, remember?”

She released her hold on his neck, and Jason took a deep breath before rising and moving in her direction with more determination this time. Just as he was about to strike her, Emily blurred then reappeared behind him. But Jason was ready. He struck with his elbow this time, but all he managed to hit was thin air. Emily reappeared on the other side of the room. She didn’t look angry anymore, but she still frowned.

“Better, but you need to be faster,” she said. “You need to get it in your head that you can do anything. The only thing that holds you back is your certainty that your abilities are limited. You need to break that belief. It’s a chain that holds you back. Crush the reality you believe in.”

Jason clenched his fists in frustration. “I’m trying, but it’s not that easy, you know.”

Emily stepped towards the mirror and waved at it, her hands moving like those of an orchestra conductor.

“Hey!” Jason jumped back when the mirror suddenly exploded, sending shards flying in his direction. He shielded his face, expecting the pieces to pierce his hands at any moment, but nothing happened. When he lowered his hands, he saw the shards … floating in the air before him.

Emily stood with her right hand stretched towards the pieces. “See? There are no limits. Anyone can do it, not just me. Now think of what you saw in your dreams.”

Jason didn’t ask questions, just reluctantly let his thoughts go to the shadows from his dreams, envisioning the dark forms pursuing, catching, killing.

The pieces of the broken mirror started trembling. Jason raised his eyebrows at Emily.

“This is your Energy,” she told him. “Strong emotions influence everything around you. All you have to do is to learn to control reality with your thoughts.”

Jason blinked, and the pieces dropped to the floor, jingling like wind chimes.

“That was good for a start,” Emily said. “Let’s try again, but this time you need to really concentrate on the shadows and their victims. You need to look at reality the way the Sighted do.”

He didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to remember the dream that haunted him every time the Sighted approached him. And he feared the ending, which still hung unseen in his mind. It was the dream where Pariah chased Emily, and he knew exactly how it went. If he could hide away from that dream forever, he’d be a happy man, but right now Emily was waiting expectantly, one hand on her hip.

Jason exhaled, resigned. “Okay, let’s try.”

Emily tilted her head. “Punch me.”

Jason shoved his body forward, each muscle tense and aching for action. Emily shot upwards to dodge Jason’s strike, but this time her body didn’t blur. To his amazement, he could follow her every move.

Her eyes blinked with mild surprise at his new skill. She shot sideways and landed on the pieces of the mirror. They crunched under her weight, then suddenly flared so that she seemed to be standing on light. She started glowing, shedding rays of blue light from her body, trailing a thin vapor trail behind to mark the trajectory of her flight. Her Energy seemed to grow further, turning the walls into liquid light.

And when Jason looked at his hands, he realized he was glowing as well. “What the—?” he asked.

Without warning, Emily ran in his direction and shot her hand in his face. Jason darted to the left, just in time to evade her shot, and saw liquid Energy whistle past his ear. He jerked his torso and head backwards, blocked her hand with his, and stepped quickly back.

The pieces of broken mirror lifted into the air and swirled around Emily in a slow, lethal whirlwind. “Welcome to the Sight, Jason,” she said, her smooth voice flowing across the room and echoing from the walls, making her Energy vibrate.

The floating pieces shot at Jason like lightning, and he held his ground. He stretched out his hands, and shouted, “No!”

A frail curtain dropped, hanging between him and the menace. When the pieces struck the curtain, they turned to dust. Then his radiance disappeared, and Jason fell to his knees, trembling with exhaustion.

“That was beautiful,” Emily said, sounding slightly awed as she came towards him. “You are amazing! You slowed time and moved so skillfully.”

“Did I?” Jason gasped between deep, labored breaths.

“Yes. It was wonderful.”

“So I—”

“No, you can’t enter the Sight on your own yet. That was training, and I passed some of my Energy to you so you could enter artificially.”

“I can’t? But it seemed so real!” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

“No, not yet,” Emily replied. “But you will very soon, I’m sure. Now you need to rest, and get emotionally ready for our return.”

Emily waved her hand at the dust and glass littering the wooden floor, and everything floated obediently towards the wall, reforming back into place. As he followed Emily towards the door, he paused by the mirror, examining it, looking for the lines where it had broken, but there were none. Suitably impressed, Jason shot a final glimpse at himself, then looked again, wondering if he really had just seen a small silver light flickering in his eyes.

When he took a closer look, the light was gone.

Chapter 25

She was right. At the time it had seemed an odd thing, saying he had to prepare himself ‘emotionally’ for their return to New York, but it turned out it was true. Anxiety was getting the better of him, his tension growing exponentially. Emily was distracted as well, and he assumed it was by the impending moment of truth. She said she needed to be on her own for a while and went upstairs.

Now that he was alone, Jason began to worry about Matt and Debbie, wondering where Tyler had taken them. Were they in danger? Had Pariah already destroyed them so the coast was clear to kill Emily and Jason? The hardest part was not knowing.

Jason paced the entrance hall, then headed towards the study where Emily’s grandfather had worked. He sat in the upholstered chair by her grandfather’s writing desk, then leaned back, soaking in a sense of calm. He didn’t feel alone in here, and that gave him security.

Eventually he got up to examine the rows and rows of books lining the wall shelves, scanning the impressive collection of classics. A slim, well-worn volume of Edgar Allan Poe’s tales and poems caught his attention, and he ran his eye over the contents page, reading the titles of the short stories. The images and atmosphere of gloom Poe created in his stories reminded Jason of his own life. How strange to read about someone’s horrors and experiences, then have something similar happen in real life. Terrifying, yet magnetic. Danger had consumed his life, and he was about to plunge headfirst into an epic battle against evil. In his mind he saw himself as character with a lead role in a book, the main hero who is forced to fight evil despite not knowing the ending.

Jason sensed Poe’s pendulum swinging over him, saw himself helpless, bound hand and foot in pitch darkness. The inexorable blade of sharpest steel came closer and closer—and he understood it was the same pendulum Pariah held over Jason. He shut the book and slid it back where it belonged.

Only when I believe I can do it will I enter the Sight,
he told himself.

Most of the library was comprised of heavy nonfiction books, including volumes of encyclopedias. Curious, he drew the “E” volume from the shelf and put it on the desk, then flipped through the gilt-edged pages until he found what he’d been seeking: Energy. The article was much longer than he had expected, taking up about seven large pages and including signs and symbols. He leafed through it but didn’t find anything particularly interesting, since Emily had already enlightened him on the most crucial facts. What was he looking for?

Of course there was no mention of the Lightsighted or Darksighted, since the books had been put together by Unsighted. Another thought struck him and he went back to the shelf. This time he pulled the“S” volume and turned to: Sighte
d→
see Darksighted, Lightsighted.

Startled to find anything at all, he started with “D”, but when he reached the page he wanted he stared at it in confusion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He set his finger on the title: Darksighted (
also
the Dark Ones), then ran it down the length of an empty page. The words had been deleted.
By whom? When was it done? Does Emily know?

The “L” volume had the same blank space where the Lightsighted article should be.

“Damn!”

What had been in there that someone wanted wiped clean?

It had to have been a Sighted who had put the article in print to begin with, because he would have had to be aware of the fifth and ruling element: Energy. But who … Jason leafed to the beginning of the book, reading the tiny print. There, at the bottom of the page, were printed three names: Editor-in-chief: Nicolas Bertrand, Assistants: Douglas Ethan, Rebecca Ethan.

Jason stared. The names belonged to Emily’s grandfather and parents. Why would they print something like this? Realizing he was going to need help understanding all this, he decided to tell Emily, but when he turned back to the bookshelf, the books were gone. In fact, the books had moved inwards … revealing a small room. Jason stood rooted to the spot, staring at the wall.

Someone else must be in the room besides him. How else could that opening have appeared? Sweat beaded his forehead, and he listened hard, but apart from his loud breathing he didn’t hear anything. So he was alone. That meant it had been he who had moved the shelf … but how?

After a brief hesitation, Jason stepped towards the room and stale air enveloped him as he stepped on the threshold. On the doorframe he noticed an inscription:

To close the door put the Books of Light and Darkness where they belong.

That explained how it had been opened to begin with. When he’d touched the “D” and “L” volumes, the shelf had moved.

“That’s a neat trick,” Jason said quietly, impressed. 

Intrigued, he ventured a step into the room, and could tell immediately that no one had been there for a very long time. A small desk at the side of the room was piled high with old books and magazines, and Jason ran his index finger along its surface, drawing a clear line in the dust. He flicked the dust off his finger, then bent to take a closer look at the books littering the desk. Cautiously, he thumbed through the ones on top, but saw nothing of interest.

Maybe it was just a storage room. The walls were unadorned: no wallpaper, no pictures, and the ancient plaster was flaking, revealing raw, red brick. A small, round opening in the wall attracted his attention, and when he reached inside he found two pieces of faded paper.

Using his sleeve, Jason cleared a thick layer of dust from the paper and discovered a photo torn in two. Both parts showed people smiling and standing close to each other. On one he saw a middle-aged man, standing with his hands behind his back. The other half of the photo was of a young couple.

But when Jason put the two parts together, they didn’t match. There had to be a piece missing. Jason rummaged the hole in the wall, but found nothing. He frowned and turned the pieces to see if anything had been written on the back. To his surprise, he found a letter scribbled on each piece. One said A, and the other said S.

Outside the secret room, the front door of the house creaked opened then slammed shut. Jason froze, listening intently. Emily wasn’t expecting any guests, as far as he knew.

He dropped the pieces of the photo onto the desk, exited the concealed room, and slid the volumes into their places on the shelf. Without a sound, the shelf shifted back to its original position.

Whoever had come into the house spoke loudly in the entrance hall, but Jason couldn’t make out any words. Then he became aware of slow, heavy footsteps approaching the study, and he knew without doubt they were not Emily’s. The doorknob turned slowly, and the door opened just a crack.