Morpheus Road 03 - The Blood (2 page)

The door was still there. The fire . . . wasn't. Nothing had been burned. The floor was intact. People were gathered outside, staring into the room with curiosity, wondering what all the yelling was about.
S
ydney looked up to the window she had thrown the chair through. That was no illusion. She had indeed smashed
through the window to escape, but from what? There was no flaming ghoul, no smoke, no fire. The only threat was the shat
tered window that Sydney had nearly jumped through . . . to escape a fate that wasn't real.

"Go away!" Marsh shouted to the people in the corridor. "Close the door!"

They scattered, not sure what they were seeing. To them it looked as though the unflappable Sydney Foley had inexplicably flapped and tossed a chair through the window for no reason.

Marsh tentatively crawled closer to her, trying not to scare her any further.

"What happened,
Syd
?" he asked calmly.

Sydney finally accepted that she was no longer in dan
ger. At least not from Marsh. She relaxed and threw her arms around him, holding him close, grateful to be alive and for his being there for her. But she didn't cry.
Sydney never cried.

She did her best to steady her voice and said, "You didn't answer my text."

"Yeah, I did. I was already on my way."

"The fire alarm didn't work."

Marsh didn't have to reply to that. Sydney's focus had returned enough so that she was able to register a blaring
horn. The fire alarm was working just fine. She hadn't heard it . . . or had been prevented from hearing it. Another harsh sound intruded. It was the urgent shriek of a siren from a rapidly approaching police car.

Sydney said, "I guess that means my 911 call went through too."

"Did you think the building was on fire?" Marsh said as calmly as if asking for the time of day.

"Isn't it?" she asked tentatively.

Marsh shook his head.

"You didn't see anything?" Sydney asked, though she
knew the answer.
Marsh surveyed the room and ended by staring at the
smashed window.

"No," he said with a frown. "And I can guess why."

He pulled away from her, reached into his pack, and
took out a tennis-ball-size golden sphere that was covered
with carved symbols.

Sydney nodded. She understood.

"He's back," she said soberly.

"Damn right he's back," came a bold reply from the
other side of the room.

Marsh and Sydney turned quickly to see that someone
else had arrived.

"It's about time he showed himself," the new arrival added.

"He tried to kill me," Sydney declared. "Why would he
do that?"

"Because he couldn't get to
me,"
Marsh said, holding up
the golden ball. "This wouldn't let him."

"So it's starting again?" Sydney asked, with a slight
crack to her usually strong voice.

"It never ended," the new arrival corrected. "But this
time is different."

"How?" Marsh asked.

"This time he's not getting away."

"Bold talk . . . for a dead guy," Sydney said to her
brother.

"Hey, it's good to be a ghost," Cooper Foley replied. He
walked over to the smashed window and added, "Can't wait
to see how you're going to explain this."

Marsh took a deep breath and said, "That'll be the least
of our problems."

"He was trying to kill me," Sydney bellowed as she paced angrily. "Why else would he create the whole fire illusion? And the flaming skull. That was a particularly gruesome touch, by the way."

"It's not about you,
Syd
," Marsh said calmly. "If I wasn't protected by the crucible, he would have come after me."

"So you're saying I shouldn't take it personally?" she countered, exasperated. "That doesn't make me feel
any better."

Marsh walked to her and took both of her hands. "Take it any way you want," he said softly. "But take the crucible."

Sydney was ready to argue, but when she looked into Marsh's eyes, she softened. He had that kind of effect on her.
She touched his cheek with genuine affection and said, "I can't do that."

"Yeah, you can. I don't want you to be in danger when it's me he's after."

"And that's why you have to keep it," Sydney said. "If he went after me like that, I can't imagine what he'd do to you."

Marsh pulled Sydney toward him and the two kissed.

Marsh then reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out the golden orb that contained the blood of Alex
ander the Great. He held it out to Sydney and whispered, "Please. Take it."

Sydney shook her head and pushed it away. "I can't. I love you."

"I love you too. That's why you have to."

"Stop!" Cooper shouted, exasperated. "Take it. No,
you
take it. I love you. I love you more. Kissy-kissy. Jeez. If I weren't already dead, I'd have to kill myself just so I could roll over in my grave."

Sydney squinted at her brother. "You'd think death would have made you less obnoxious."

"Sorry," Coop shot back. "And speaking of obnoxious, I don't know what freaks me out more, Damon showing up or you two being all
lovey
. So strange."

"Said the ghost," Sydney said sarcastically.

Cooper and Sydney may have looked alike, with their dark hair and blue eyes, but their polar opposite styles usually put them at each other's throats. Coop's death did nothing to change that. Though Cooper was a spirit, Marsh looked more like the sore thumb with his blond hair and brown eyes.

The three were in the living room of Marsh's house in the suburban town of Stony Brook, Connecticut. It was a home that had always been so comfortable. So normal. It was a safe haven for Marsh until a malevolent spirit had turned it into a house of horrors.

"This is a no-brainer," Coop declared. "There's one cru
cible and two of you, so just stay together. You're practically joined at the hip anyway."

"You don't . . . watch us, do you?" Sydney asked with disgust.

"Give me a break," Cooper shot back. "Like I don't have enough to deal with."

"That's not practical," Marsh said, and held out the golden ball to Sydney. "When we're together, we'll be fine. When we're apart, Sydney keeps it."

"But I won't," Sydney argued.

"Give it to me," Cooper ordered, and tried to grab it, but his hand traveled through Marsh's like a beam of light pass
ing through a solid object.

"Damn," he said in frustration. "Can this get any older?"

Marsh and Sydney were the only two beings in the Light who could see Cooper. To them he appeared the same as any other person, though he was anything but.

"Forget the crucible," Sydney exclaimed as she pulled Marsh toward the couch. "It can't protect either of us for
ever. This is about Damon."

"Agreed," Marsh said.

The two sat close to each other. Sydney kept a firm grip on Marsh's hand out of affection . . . and for security. Her nerves were still frayed.

"I'm way ahead of the curve on this," Coop declared. "I'll handle Damon."

"That gives me exactly zero confidence," Sydney said coldly.

"Let's hear what he has to say," Marsh offered.

Sydney bit her tongue and forced a smile.

"Okay, Mr. Afterlife," she said to Cooper. "How exactly are you going to 'handle' Damon?"

Cooper had already shared with them the entire story
of his adventures with Damon in the Black. There were no secrets between them.

"First I have to find him," Cooper began. "I have no idea where he is."

"So much for being ahead of the curve," Sydney said.

Coop ignored her and continued, "I haven't seen him since his army was sucked into the Blood, but I've seen the damage he's caused since. The guy wants revenge. On me. That much is obvious from the
way he busted up my vision in the Black."

"How did he do that if his army was sent to the Blood?" Marsh asked.

"I don't know," Coop admitted. "And I don't know what happened to the spirits who were with me . . . my grand
father, Maggie Salinger, Zoe, and—"

"And my mother," Marsh said.

"Yeah. They're just . . . gone. Damon must be respon
sible, but as to where they are . . . your guess is as good as mine."

Sydney suggested, "Maybe he took them to his own vision."

"Okay, I lied. Your guess
isn't
as good as mine," Cooper said curtly. "I told you, his vision doesn't exist anymore. The Watchers took it from him. Damon's flying loose some
where."

"Maybe they all moved on to the next life," Marsh offered hopefully. "You know, the place you go after the Black?"

Coop squinted at him. "Do you
really
think that hap
pened?"

Marsh thought for a moment. "No."

Coop said, "I think Damon knows exactly where they are so he can use them to get what he wants."

"The poleax," Sydney declared.

"Yeah, the poleax," Coop confirmed. "For that he needs
you,
Ralph."

"But I don't know where his sword is!" Marsh declared with frustration.

"Maybe not, but he thinks you can find it."

"That's insane," Marsh grumbled.

Sydney asked, "And what happens if Damon gets it?"

Coop took a tired breath and turned serious. "The guy has something to prove. He feels as though he was never given his due as a general in Alexander's army and wants a second chance."

"To do what?" Sydney asked. "When did he fight for Alexander? Two thousand years ago?"

"Doesn't matter," Coop said quickly. "Time has no mean
ing in the Black. You can find spirits who lived yesterday or centuries ago. For all I know, Alexander himself is still float
ing around someplace and Damon wants to show him what a bad little soldier-boy he can really be."

"But why does he need that sword to prove that?" Marsh asked.

"That weapon holds the spiritual power of all those he killed in life. He can use it to tear open another Rift between the Light and the Black. Between the living and the dead. The Black is a very real place, but the spirits are . . . spirits. Not flesh and blood. I think for Damon to prove himself as a warrior, he'll have to do it here in the Light against living soldiers."

"So he wants to tear open a new Rift, come into the Light, and start a war?" Sydney asked. "Won't he be, like, two thousand years out of his league?"

"I don't know, Sydney," Coop said impatiently. "Maybe he'll get his ass kicked, but that's not the point. Can you imagine if a doorway was created between two worlds so that spirits could come back to reclaim their lives? There are
millions of spirits in the Black. Billions. What would hap
pen if the dam opened up and the Light was overrun by its own history?"

The three fell silent, imagining the possibility.

Marsh finally said, "Armageddon."

"Something like that," Coop agreed. "That's why the Watchers gave me the ability to be seen by you guys. My being here is totally against the way things work, but it seems like it's fallen on us to stop Damon."

Marsh said, "Because I'm the one he's coming after to find the poleax."

"And he killed me to get to you," Coop added. "Let's not forget that."

Sydney asked, "Why don't the Watchers stop him?"

"I think the only thing they can do is send him to the Blood, but that's the last thing they want because it'll put Damon back together with his army. No, they want Damon destroyed, and I don't think they have that ability."

"
And we do?" Sydney asked.

"Not 'we.' Me. I'm a spirit. I can move through the Black and use one of those spirit-killing swords on that bastard. That's how this is going to end. It's the only way it
can
end."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Sydney asked.

"Nothing," Cooper answered quickly. "I mean it. Noth
ing. Stay together and keep the crucible with you. As long as you two have that thing, Damon is powerless over you."

"No," Marsh said flatly.

Cooper shot him a quick, surprised look. "What do you mean 'no'? I told you—"

Marsh stood up to face his friend. "I heard what you said, Coop. I get it. But I'm not going to sit around doing noth
ing. None of this would have happened if my mother hadn't gone digging around under that temple and destroyed the first crucible."

"So what?" Coop shot back. "This is serious, Ralph. We're not playing army."

"Do you really think I'm playing?"

"No, I don't," Coop said, backing down. "But I mean, c'mon, you're in way over your head."

"I'll be the judge of that," Marsh said quickly.

Coop walked away from Marsh, his mind racing, trying to come up with the right thing to say.

"Look," he said sharply. "I may be a spirit but I can't be hunting for Damon in the Black and babysitting you at the same time."

"I don't need a babysitter," Marsh said, bristling.

"No? How many times did I bail your butt out when Damon was coming after you?"

"This is as much my battle as it is yours," Marsh said through gritted teeth. "You may think I'm still a little kid that you have to coax into trusting himself, but things have changed."

"I'm sorry, Marsh," Cooper said, softening. "I know you've been through a lot and you aren't the same guy you were before and blah, blah, blah, but this is way more important than you trying to prove something to yourself."

"Do
not
put me in the same category as Damon," Marsh snapped.

"That's not what I meant—"

"I don't care what you meant. I'm telling you that I'm going to do what I can to make this right. You're just run
ning around like you always do, thinking you can handle anything. Well, you can't. Damon got you. He killed you, remember? You're in as far over your head as I am. The only difference is that you won't admit it."

The two stood toe-to-toe, neither backing down. "Okay, Ralph," Coop said coldly. "I'm going to the Black
to track down and kill a demon. What are
you
going to do?"

"I'm going to find Ennis Mobley," Marsh said with authority.

"Why?" Coop asked with surprise.

"You haven't thought of everything, Coop. You never do. There were six crucibles. One was broken in Damon's tomb when my mother and Ennis found it. The second one I broke. Your grandfather broke the third in the Black. The fourth I've got right here, and the fifth is protecting the poleax, which is why Damon can't find it himself. That leaves one more. If these things have as much power over Damon as you say, I think we should try to find it, and who has a better chance of knowing where it is than the guy who found them all in the first place?"

Coop started to argue, but held back.

Sydney smiled. "He's got you there, spirit boy."

"
All right," Coop said. "Go for it. But stay close to my sister. And keep that crucible with you. I don't want to have to come back here to save either of you. Again."

"Just worry about yourself," Marsh said coldly.

A colorful, swirling mist appeared behind Cooper. "What I'm worried about is ending this, and there's
only one way that can happen. Damon has to be destroyed."

"So stop talking and find him," Sydney called out. Cooper took a step backward and disappeared into the
mist.

Marsh and Sydney stared wide-eyed at the colorful cloud as it quickly vanished.

"Well," Sydney said with a sigh. "That went well."

"Here," Marsh said, holding out the crucible.

Sydney pushed his hand aside and wrapped her arms around his neck. Marsh hugged her close.

"You know the strangest part?" she asked.

"There's more?" Marsh asked with mock surprise.

Sydney chuckled. "Something good has actually come out of this."