Riley Bloom 1 - Radiance (9 page)

He was merely tapping into all the usual fears—the ones most of us shared.

And the only thing keeping me here, scared out of my wits and chained to that chair, was my belief that he had some kind of power over me.

My belief that the flying furniture could’ve harmed me, when clearly it would’ve just passed right through.

My belief that I couldn’t overcome the snakes and the dental instruments—that they were bigger than me, too powerful to fight.

When the truth is they weren’t.

And neither was he.

Not in the least.

And realizing that, well, it didn’t make the snakes go away, didn’t make the dental drills disappear, but it did make me stronger—strong enough to conquer my fears. So by the time he reached his arms toward me and threw back his head—well, I didn’t cringe.

In fact, I didn’t do much of anything at all.

I just calmly unbuckled all the harnesses and straps as I watched the Radiant Boy—falter.

Falter in a way that set him completely off balance.

Falter in a way that somehow—split him into three!

I sat there, mouth hanging open, a fresh unheard scream tickling the back of my throat, thinking the only thing scarier than one angry Radiant Boy—was half a six-pack of angry Radiant Boys.

But only when they were all grouped into a pyramid like they were just before the fall. After losing their balance and tumbling to the ground, well, there was no doubt that I was in charge now.

I slid off the chair and cleared the floor of snakes simply by wishing for them to be gone. Then jutting my hip and tossing my hair over my shoulder, I cocked my head to the side and said, “So, you work as a team.” I nodded, pausing for a moment to take them all in. “Well, I guess that explains why no one’s been able to convince you to move on all these years. You’ve probably spent the last several centuries either working in shifts, or ganging up on people in your big scary pyramid maneuver. Not quite a fair fight when you think about it, now is it?”

They scrambled to their feet, trying to assume a tough-guy pose but it was too late. Two of them choosing to hang back, as one of them stepped forward as their leader, and I couldn’t help but wonder why they’d chosen him since they all seemed pretty much the same to me. But as he drew closer, as all of them drew closer, I saw that they weren’t the same at all.

When they were all bunched up, piled high on top of each other and pooling their energy, they took on that same, bright, radiant glow. But, taken in separately and individually, well, they had some very distinct differences. One was tall, one not so tall, and one more or less medium, and while two had hair that could best be described as platinum in color, the one who stepped forward was more of the strawberry blond variety, and he’s the one who chose to lift his shoulders, puff up his chest, tilt his chin high, and address me.

“I command you to leave,” he said, voice steady and strong and more than a little intimidating.

And even though the visions of snakes and the crazy clown wielding dental instruments were still fresh in my mind, I had no choice but to move past it, just clear it out completely. If I was to get anywhere with them, make any progress at all, it was imperative I show them I wasn’t that same scared little ghost girl from a moment ago.

“Please tell me you’re not serious,” I said, knowing I might be pushing it, but still. Even though there were three of them and only one of me, they were still only a bunch of ten-year-olds, which, in my mind, pretty much made me the boss of them. “I mean, you’re not serious about commanding me—are you?” I gazed all around, noting every little detail as I vowed to remember this exact moment. What the room looked like, what they looked like, knowing it would become one of my favorite parts to retell later. I shook my head, correctly reading the sudden burst of flames in his eyes as outrage, when I said, “Oh boy, it looks like you are serious. Okay.” I nodded, trying not to cringe at the sight of it. “But see, here’s the thing, I can’t leave—or at least not yet. I’ve got a job to do—and—well—I’m not going anywhere until it’s done. So, it seems like we’ve got ourselves a little problem, I mean, what with your commanding me and all.”

He glanced over his shoulder and looked at the others, receiving two halfhearted shrugs for his efforts, but still, it was enough for him to face me again and say, “I pronounce you to be gone! You must leave at once!” He lifted his arms, palms facing up as more three-headed snakes slithered down them and sprang toward me.

But I just batted them away, knowing they were only as real as I allowed them to be. In the big scheme of things, there was nothing he could do to hurt me.

I shrugged my shoulders and made for the blue upholstered settee. Turning the chair back onto its feet, and plopping myself upon it. Correctly assuming this was going to take a little longer than I’d hoped, what with all the commandments and pronouncements I’d be expected to get through, so I may as well make myself comfortable.

He stood before me, reddish-blond brows merged over the angry red orbs that stood in for his eyes. But I didn’t react, I refused to give him that. And then after a few more demands, a few more decrees, and a whole slew of urgently stressed proclamations, he switched off.

In fact, they all switched off.

So that they no longer glowed, were no longer red eyed, and a trio of normal pink mouths replaced the bottomless black holes that had recently stood in their place.

Looking pretty much like any other gang of ten-year-old boys as they stood there before me. Well, except for the truly dreadful, completely unbelievable, wish-you-could’ve-seen-it-for-yourself, awful matching white short suits with the matching white kneesocks and shiny, black shoes.

And I couldn’t help but hope those had been the clothes they’d been buried in, because if they’d chosen that ensemble on their own, well, I wasn’t sure I could ever get through to them.

“Why aren’t you afraid of us?” the one I was beginning to think of as strawberry head asked.

I shrugged, taking a moment to look him over before I said, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, at first I clearly was. I mean, you saw the way I almost took off. And then with that whole killer clown thing with the drills and the picks—” I shuddered at the memory of it. “Well, you nearly did me in! But when you started with all the scary monster stuff, well, let’s just say it was pretty much a dead giveaway.” I smiled, adding, “Pun intended,” really cracking myself up. But when they didn’t join in, I was quick to add, “Anyway, that’s pretty much what did it. I mean, most of those movies were way before my time, and that’s pretty much the moment I knew.”

“Knew what?” He pressed his lips together, looking me over in that creepy way that only a ten-year-old can.

“Knew that you were counting on the fact that I’d be too scared to realize I’m in control—that I’m the one who allows the fear to win. And that my refusal to feed it, to let it take over, would diminish its power over me—your power over me.” I nodded, and, even though I tried not to, I couldn’t help it, a triumphant smile crept across my face. Which only seemed to annoy him even more. “Not to mention the fact that I’m already just as dead as you, so there’s really not much else you could do to hurt me, now is there?” I added.

“Oh, we could do plenty! We could—” The blond one on the left piped up, rushing forward and shaking his small fist in the air, until strawberry head turned and flashed his palm, sending him slinking right back to his place again.

“We’re not leaving if that’s what you’re here for. Plenty of others have tried, you know. And trust me, I mean plenty. But we’re still here. Have been for hundreds of years. So, maybe you’re the one who should move on, because we’ve no plans to stop. And if you continue to insist, well, it’ll just end up being a big fat waste of your time.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged, my fingers picking at a loose thread on one of the blue cushions, acting as though I was only mildly invested in this, as though I had nothing important riding on it. “But then again, maybe not.” I raised my gaze until it met his. “I mean, did it ever occur to you that maybe you guys are the ones wasting your time? Seriously, think about it. Hundreds of years spent running around in outdated little short sets just so you could get your jollies by scaring the beejeemums out of ghost-seeking tourists.” I shook my head. “Hundreds of years of the same lame routine.” I sighed, making a point to look at each of them. Just the thought of it seemed exhausting and pointless. “And for what may I ask? What could possibly be the point of all that? And just what exactly do you get out of it, anyway? I mean, really? Don’t you ever feel like taking a little vay-kay, or even a week-long break?”

“We do take breaks! We work in shifts I’ll have you know!” shouted the other blondie.

But shifts or no shifts, they weren’t getting it, weren’t getting it at all. I’d spent twelve full years bugging my older sister to the point of, well, complete and total ridiculousness. But still, that was nothing compared to the colossal waste of the last few centuries they’d committed to. Talk about a time suck.

“My point is—” I clutched the cushion to my chest for a moment before tossing it aside. Making sure I had their full attention before I went on to add, “What’s the payoff? Seriously. Why bother with the flaming red eyes, gaping black holes, and—and all of this?” I motioned toward them, drawing an invisible line from the top of their curly heads all the way down to their immaculately shined shoes.

And that’s when the other one finally spoke, standing just to the right of strawberry head when he said, “What’s the payoff?” His bright blue eyes met mine, looking at his friends as they snickered and laughed amongst themselves. “Fame. That’s what. Worldwide fame is the payoff.” They shook their heads and rolled their eyes, smirking at me as though I was a grade-A moron.

I squinted, unsure I’d heard right. I mean, there was no way they could be serious about that.

“We’re famous,” he repeated, his voice as determined as the expression on his face. “We have name recognition. People come from all over the world just to try to get a glimpse of us—a chance to photograph us—to catch a voice recording of us—to have an encounter with us—to tell their friends back home they lasted through the night with us—” He glanced at his buddies as they all burst out laughing, his eyes back on mine when he said, “Which, by the way, is a big fat lie since no one’s ever made it through the entire night in this room. No one. No exceptions.” His face grew stern. “And, let’s not forget about all the books, and articles, and TV shows about us. We’re famous. International superstars! And we have been for years. We’re like—we’re like the Backstreet Boys in a way—only dead.”

Oh boy. Suddenly, I couldn’t help but feel bad for them for not only being completely delusional, but tragically outdated as well. I mean, the Backstreet Boys—could they have picked a more ancient reference? I shook my head and looked them over. They reminded me so much of some of the kids I used to go to school with, whose sole ambition was to be famous. For what? They hadn’t a clue. All they knew is they were destined for the spotlight.

And their first stop was YouTube.

My eyes grazed over them. They were so indignant, so sure that what they were saying was true, and I knew I had to find a way to break it to them.

I cleared my throat, taking a deep breath purely out of habit before I went on to say, “Um, I hate to break it to you, but you’re nothing like the Backstreet Boys. Not to mention, how do you even know about the Backstreet Boys anyway? You live in a castle in the middle of nowhere.”

They stared at me, a united front of white suits, white kneesocks, and outraged red cheeks.

“You’re not the first to look through people’s belongings, you know. We have access to computers, we’ve checked out an iPod or two,” said the smallest blond kid, as his buddies all snickered and laughed, taking a moment to shake their heads at me.

“Just because we live in a castle in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean we don’t know the same stuff you do,” strawberry head added.

I nodded. I didn’t see that coming, I’ll give them that. To think that any ghost would be in touch enough to know about boy bands of the last decade and yet still choose to dress like that was beyond me. But then again, look at Bodhi—an almost-pro skater dude who for whatever reason chose to dress like a dork. People were complicated—both the living and the dead, of that I was sure.

“Okay, fine. My bad. I’m sorry I misjudged your knowledge of pop music. Still, I’m sorry to say, but you’re nothing like the Backstreet Boys. Because the truth is, millions of people all around the world loved them, but—well—how many people love you?”

I watched as they exchanged bewildered gazes, their thoughts of confusion and despair like a vibrating rumble that flowed through the room.

Then strawberry head shook his head firmly, determined to take charge and regain control once again, saying, “Do not listen to her. None of it’s true! She’s messing with us. It’s part of her mission or whatever agenda she has.” He shot me a scathing look that was almost as bad as when the flames shot from his eyes. “The point is, maybe they don’t exactly love us—but they love to fear us. People come from all over the world just because of us! Without us, Warmington Castle would be ruined! Nobody would bother to visit. It couldn’t continue and would shut down for sure.” The blonds both nodded, two sets of bobbing heads flanking him on either side.

“Maybe—maybe not.” I frowned, knowing that could very well be true though it was pretty much irrelevant here. “But what’s it to you either way? I mean, are you getting a cut of the share? Is anyone actually thanking you for volunteering to work here? All that time you spend, all the long hours you put in—what’s the payoff? Seriously, did it ever occur to you that you’re totally being used? Taken advantage of in the very worst way? You guys give a whole new meaning to the term graveyard shift. And really, other than your questionable claim to fame, what’s in it for you?”

They looked at each other, thoughts murmuring back and forth in a swirl of static and sound.