A Vial of Life Page 8

  There came no reply. My hands instinctively roamed down the side of the box, searching for the lid’s ridge. The box was locked with a padlock, but as I moved to grab hold of it, my fingers passed right through it. I could feel resistance with the box’s surface itself, however. Did I have any strength to force the lid open? I curled my fingers around the curve of the lid and tried to heave upward, but the effort caused my feet to sink into the floor.

  Even if I was able to stand on a solid surface, this box was clearly magical. I doubted that anything but its key could open it.

  “Are you in there, Aisha?” I asked again.

  I cursed in frustration. It was torturous to be less than a foot away from the jinni and yet completely unable to help her. What do I do now? I was certain that Aisha was in the box. I couldn’t imagine for the life of me what reason Julie and her companions would have for releasing her—they would know full well that Aisha would unleash her wrath on them the moment she got free. Aisha had already threatened Julie’s life once back on the island where we met Arron, and I’d seen how shaken the vampire was by her.

  I’d stopped Aisha from murdering Julie that day. Now I thought bitterly to myself that I should have just let the jinni drive a knife through her.

  I heaved a sigh, staring down at the stubborn box. There’s nothing I can do to open this. I just had to hope that somehow Aisha would find a way out. If she did manage that, I wouldn’t worry about her. She was powerful and she would be able to find her way back home… although after what Bahir had said about Nuriya being in grave danger, and Aisha having feared The Oasis was under attack, I wasn’t sure what kind of home she’d return to.

  Whatever the case, my hovering over this box any longer wasn’t going to help her. I stood up and was about to leave the room when I caught sight of a mirror hanging directly in front of me. Yet as I stared into it, my reflection didn’t stare back. All I could see was the empty wall behind me.

  I’d become invisible. And, given the lack of movement from those creatures out in the hallway when I had spoken, I suspected that I was inaudible to the outside world, too.

  I staggered backward, half of my back disappearing into the wall, my eyes still locked on the mirror.

  It’s like I don’t exist.

  I didn’t know what I’d been expecting—that ghosts were visible to people? I hadn’t thought much about it. Now I realized that even if I made it back to The Shade, nobody would even know. They couldn’t see or hear me, I couldn’t touch them… heck, I couldn’t even pick up a pen and write them a note. I was trapped in this… half-existence.

  I would be nothing but a shadow, roaming the woods, trying to reconnect with my former life. It took a while for the notion to fully sink in.

  But still, I needed to return to The Shade. Even if I couldn’t communicate with them, I needed to know that everyone was all right, if only for my peace of mind. Besides, that island was my home. If I didn’t return there, where would I go?

  Pulling myself together, I tore my eyes away from the empty mirror and moved back out into the hallway. I climbed back up the staircase, intending to return to the upper deck, but on arriving at the level beneath, I found myself face to face with one of the ceiling-hanging creatures, all the more alarming now that it stood directly in front of me.

  For the first time, I took in its face. Its lips were withered and two long, razor-sharp fangs—sharper than I’d ever seen in a vampire—protruded from its mouth. Its nose was partially receded into its skull. It was staring straight at me, or rather, straight through me. It lurched suddenly, and although my instinct was to duck, I should’ve remembered that there was no need. It passed right through me, as though I was nothing but a cloud of mist, and continued down the corridor. Its movement was strange. It almost shuffled, as though it had injured one leg, and yet it possessed an alarming speed and agility.

  I’d never seen any creature like this before. Certain features reminded me of vampires—like its fangs, claws, and pale skin—yet it was like no vampire I’d ever seen.

  Shuffling came from my left, and I turned around to see another creature moving toward me. It appeared to be in a hurry and whizzed right through me, followed shortly by a third creature. They scurried to the end of the corridor and raced up the stairs toward the upper deck.

  I wasn’t sure where they were going or what they intended to do. But there was nothing else I could accomplish by staying on this boat. It seemed that Aisha would remain trapped here until fate decided to free her.

  I followed the creatures to the upper deck, where I found all three standing near the bow of the boat. One of them had taken the reins and was apparently slowing the animals to a stop. Looking around, I realized that we had already reached the harbor.

  I didn’t know what the trio wanted to do in The Tavern—perhaps stop over for the night and rest until morning. Somehow, I found it hard to imagine them booking a room in the Blue Tavern’s guesthouse. For that matter, they didn’t appear to be the type of creature that would be welcome in The Tavern at all.

  Pushing aside thoughts of them, I floated off the ship and drifted down toward the moonlit shipyard. I turned my mind to thinking about how exactly I was going to glean information about the nearest gate.

  Heading to the pub ought to be my first option. That was the hub of this island, where most travelers passed through. In theory I could just hover around there for as long as it took to overhear something.

  When I arrived outside the building, it was packed, as it always seemed to be. Although I hardly needed to worry about finding a seat anymore—which was a good thing, for there were none. I wandered around the tables, getting as close to the patrons as I wanted, and listened to their conversations. I saw no familiar faces other than the man tending the bar. He’d been here the night I’d arrived in the guest house, the same night I’d met Julie.

  As I glanced over to the same table where I’d first spoken with her, a memory flooded back to me. That same night, sitting around the table next to us, had been four hooded vampires. I hadn’t paid attention to their faces much, and now I wondered if they had been the same four companions who had accosted me on Julie’s ship.

  I shook away the memory. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. Whatever Julie had been thinking, however long she had been planning her deception… it was all irrelevant now.

  I continued drifting slowly around the pub, moving from table to table, until morning arrived and the crowd began to thin a little. So far, I hadn’t heard anything that could help me. Most who’d sat in the pub that night seemed to be wanderers, and although they’d spoken of recent travels, none mentioned a voyage to the human realm.

  It was so bizarre to be here in this supernatural world, a world that only a tiny fraction of the human population was even aware of. I should have been fascinated by these creatures’ tales, and yet once I’d realized a conversation wouldn’t lead to the information I sought, it faded into the background, mundane and uninteresting.

  All I wanted now was to return home. It was what my soul ached for, even though I’d already had premonitions of how painful it would be.

  Chapter 6: Ben

  I waited all day in the pub, listening to the conversations of the myriad of supernatural species coming in and out, until evening arrived. Now that it was more crowded again, I stood up to avoid someone coming over to my bench and sitting right on top of me. I settled into the same routine as the night before, wandering about the tables, listening and trying to catch hint of a traveler who might be intending to pass through a gate.

  It was toward the end of the night, having still had no luck in overhearing mention of a gate, that I decided to leave this room and head upstairs, toward the bedrooms. Since the crowds were thinning from this place anyway, perhaps I might overhear some useful information in the guest rooms above, like comrades discussing plans before they drifted off.

  I headed toward the exit and reached for the door handle before my hand just sank right
into it. Straightening, I stared at the door in front of me before walking headfirst into it. I winced a little, half expecting my etherealness to disappear just as my head made contact with the wood. But I sank through it, emerging on the other side, at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the guest rooms. The staircase I’d climbed only days ago with Julie.

  I drifted higher and higher until I arrived at the very top floor. I figured that I could start wandering around here and then make my way down to the lower levels.

  To my right was a large window—the same one I’d taken refuge at to get away from the scent of human blood. I looked out through the glass, able to see the ocean beyond the high wall that surrounded the island. The window was closed, but judging from how the trees were swaying, there was a gentle breeze. I wished that I could feel the wind on my face right then.

  Tearing my eyes away from the window, I turned around. Then I stopped in my tracks. Someone was slumped on the floor at the opposite end of the hallway. A man with a long, bushy gray beard, his eyes closed. His head hung over his chest, as though he’d fallen asleep while sitting… or was dead. Wrapped around him was a tattered brown cloak. I wasn’t sure what creature this was exactly—a vampire, a human, or perhaps something else—but whatever he was, he looked like a tramp.

  As I approached him, his head shot up suddenly. I was alarmed to find his faded brown eyes on me. I gaped at him, speechless. He could… see me?

  Now that I was closer, his skin was of the same quality as mine, pale, ethereal and slightly translucent.

  He didn’t look surprised to see me. He just looked me over from head to toe with mild interest before rolling his head back down and resuming his previous position.

  “Can you hear me?” I found myself asking.

  He grunted. “Yes, boy,” he said, his voice deep and thick with slumber.

  Keeping a distance of a couple of feet between us, I bent down to his level. “Who are you?” I asked. “And what are you doing here?”

  “I could ask the same of you,” he mumbled.

  Coming across another ghost was something I hadn’t expected. I’d no idea who this stranger was, but somehow it was comforting to meet someone who was in the same position as me, and had likely been in it much longer. It was like coming across a compatriot in a foreign land.

  Slowly, he turned his eyes on me again. They looked heavy, as though it was a struggle to lift them halfway.

  It hadn’t occurred to me that ghosts needed sleep. I hadn’t felt any need for it, just as I no longer felt hunger… or anything, for that matter.

  “You disturb me, boy,” he said, irritation now crossing his face.

  “I apologize,” I said. “I only recently left my body, and I have questions.”

  He pursed his lips, his jowls trembling slightly beneath his beard.

  “What exactly do you want with me?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

  “I’m seeking the location of gates leading to the human realm,” I replied. “That’s where I have come from, and that’s where my home is.”

  Even up close to him, it was hard for me to say exactly what body he had once possessed before he became a spirit—ghosts were already so pale—but I guessed from the formation of his upper jaw that he had been a vampire.

  The old man’s eyes drooped closed, and his head lolled once again.

  “Is there any way that you could help me?” I asked, increased urgency in my tone.

  “Hush!” he said. “You’ll scare away the dreams.”

  My brows knotted. “Dreams?”

  “I’d almost caught one! Just sit down and close your eyes.” He paused, waiting for me to slide down to the floor next to him, before continuing, “I will show you how to catch dreams. It is very easy. All it requires is for you to extend your mind…”

  I looked at the man in bemusement. I realized that I hadn’t tried to close my eyes since leaving my body. For that matter, I couldn’t even remember if I had been blinking.

  “Relax your head, and close your eyes,” the man commanded me again.

  Assuming the same slumped position as him, I lowered my head downward and closed my eyes. There was just darkness. Which in itself was surprising. I’d expected that perhaps I would see right through the thin walls of my eyelids.

  I was really in no mood for whatever game this ghost was proposing, but I didn’t know when or if I would come across another person who could hear and see me—another ghost. I didn’t see what other option I had but to pander to him in the hope that he’d be more likely to help me out afterward.

  “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be seeing,” I muttered. “I see nothing.”

  The man breathed out impatiently. “You try too hard. Just loosen your mind and wait… the next one will come soon.”

  I didn’t understand him, but I humored him all the same. I kept my eyes closed, and tried to “loosen my mind”… whatever that meant.

  And then I saw something. A warm golden light trickled into my mind’s eye. A scene began to form, slowly, as if being painted in with brushstrokes, until I found myself beholding a beach. A beautiful white-sand beach. A glowing orange sun hung over the horizon, already halfway down in its descent. The shore was empty except for a couple walking hand in hand with the waves lapping around their ankles. The woman wore a wedding gown, while the man was dressed in a smart black tuxedo.

  Then the sky darkened, as if God Himself had flicked a light switch. There was no moon or stars in the sky and the only light seemed to be emanating from the sea. It had turned a bright green, almost neon color, and it glowed eerily. Heads of seven giant serpents reared from the water, hissing and flashing white fangs. The couple were fixed to the spot, too stunned to duck out of the way before—

  “No, no!” The old man’s gruff voice shattered the vision. I opened my eyes. He was shaking his head angrily. “That was a black dream! We don’t want to live in those. Close your eyes again and we’ll search for a good one.”

  A black dream, I thought to myself as I closed my eyes again. A nightmare. So, somehow, ghosts are able to intercept dreams. Yet another new thing I’d learned about this spirit existence.

  We weren’t waiting as long for the next vision. It emerged quickly in my mind. A beautiful poppy-scattered meadow, through which ran a pure white horse, ridden by… an ogre—the smallest ogre I had ever seen. It must have been a child. A boy. He wore a shiny metal chest plate and a gem-studded helmet, and strapped to his short, chubby legs were silver knee guards. A sword dangled from his belt—a sword so large it was almost as tall as him. He rode across the meadow with practiced grace, then guided the steed into a forest. They whipped through the trees until they reached a clearing, at the end of which lay a steep drop.

  Even as the horse approached the edge of the cliff, still the child didn’t slow it down. If anything the steed sped up. And then, with one giant leap, the horse launched off the cliff into a terrifying freefall. The boy’s hands dug into his steed’s neck, and just as the two were about to collide with the rocks at the bottom of the cliff, a pair of magnificent wings sprouted from the horse’s back. Wings that beat hard and fast until the horse soared with the ogre high in the clear blue sky. The child gasped with pleasure as he beheld an entire world sprawled out beneath him—trees, lakes, hills…

  I opened my eyes and shook my head.

  Enough of this.

  I looked at the old man. His eyes were still closed, and his face was… almost unrecognizable. His sour, scowling demeanor had vanished, and his face had lit up. He swayed gently from side to side, as if hypnotized, so taken by the fantasy of some ogre child sleeping within one of the rooms of the guest house.

  I needed to interrupt him, but I felt almost bad to burst the bubble of happiness this otherwise miserable man appeared to be in. I wondered whether he lived in The Tavern. Whether he haunted this guesthouse corridor every day.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll leave you alone, if you’ll just answer a question.
”

  He grunted in frustration and when he opened his eyes, his face had resumed its former grumpy look.

  “That was a good one!” he fumed, his lips curling. “It’s been three days since I roamed a dream as good as that!”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I wish to leave you alone, as I said. Answer my question, and you can return to the dream.”

  “What do you want?” he snapped.

  “I’m looking for a gate that will lead me into the human realm. Do you have any idea how I might find one?”

  The man’s mouth formed in a hard line, his brows furrowed as he continued glaring up at me. “Hm. There are some ogres who may be able to take you there,” he mumbled.

  “Ogres? Which ogres?”

  “The ogres who guard the walls of this island. They discovered a gate some miles away and they frequent it together to gather food for themselves. Humans.”

  “How do you know this?” I asked.

  He smiled bitterly at me, and there was a trace of melancholy in his jaded eyes. “When you haunt an island for six hundred years, you know things like this.”

  Six hundred years. He’s lived this way for six hundred years.

  The thought threw me off, and it took my brain a few seconds to form my next question. “And, uh, do you know the names of the ogres I need to seek out?”

  “Just look for Rufus,” he said. “They usually travel in his ship.”

  “And do you know how often they go?”

  “This is more than one question,” he said, a pained look on his face. “I don’t know how long that dream is going to last, or even that I’ll be able to walk in it again after you scared it off!”

  “How often do the ogres go to the human realm?” I insisted, even though I felt bad for it. But I’d realized by now that I had the power to interrupt his pleasure, and unless he gave me what I wanted, there was no reason for me to go away.

  “Usually twice a week,” he murmured. “At least.”

  “Thank you,” I said. Finally I motioned to turn around, but something kept me rooted to the spot, staring down at the old man curled up on the floor. “May I have your name?”