Read The Weight of Souls Online

Authors: Bryony Pearce

Tags: #jutice, #murder, #revenge, #cursed, #The Darkness, #ghosts, #Tyler Oh, #doomed love

The Weight of Souls (21 page)

BOOK: The Weight of Souls
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I winced at my reflection. “He had good reason to be.” I peeled off my glove and held it for a long minute. It was wrecked and should go in the bin. But it had been Mum’s. I dropped it in the laundry.
“So I’m in the club.” I touched the Mark on my hand. “But I’m running out of time. The next meeting isn’t for three days. I don’t get to set the challenge till I complete another dare and I can’t do that until I’m chosen by some wheel. What are the chances of that?” I clenched my fists.
Justin nodded. “I think I can help.”
“You can?” I raised my eyebrows, then I realised who, or rather what, I was talking to. “Of course. So I do another dare.” I ignored my sinking heart. “
Then
I get to ask for a truth.”
Justin looked at my blackened hand. “There’s one more problem, Tay. Once you complete the dare, you don’t get to be challenger for another week.”
I inhaled, desperately clinging to my calm. “Ten days, I’m not sure I’ve got that long.” I slumped onto my stool in front of my picture board. “Maybe James will bend the rules again.”
“We’ll think of something.” Justin’s hand fell on my shoulder and I jumped. “You need a shower.”
I fingered my bruised head with a wince. He was used to looking at his perfectly groomed girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. “Right. I look like hell.”
 
I turned the nozzle onto
massage
and let the water hammer at my sore muscles until they ached. Then I lathered my hair up, rinsed and did the whole thing again, until the water ran clear instead of grey.
The room was lit with four halogen bulbs, there was a towel warming on the rail and there was plenty of hot water. I didn’t want to get out. So I stayed, leaning my head against the glass door and watching the shower gel foam around the plug.
When the water started to run cool, I stepped out and wrapped myself in the towel. Then I dragged a comb through my hair, brushed my teeth and pulled on some flannel pyjamas.
The thought stuttered through my head: Not exactly sexy.
I bit down on it as I ran through the dimly lit hallway. Who cared about that anyway?
 
I was surrounded by a fog so dense I literally couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.
 
“Justin?” I spun around, seeing nothing. No sound penetrated the whiteness; I seemed to be all alone.
 
Experimentally I stepped forward. I could feel the ground beneath my bare toes. It was cool, but not cold, hard, but not uncomfortably so. Was I on a road, a path?
 
Wait a minute… why were my feet bare?
 
I squinted down at myself and pinched my top between my fingers. Why was I wearing pyjamas? Had I come outside?
 
I tried to remember. Had I head a noise or something, maybe left the house?
 
“Justin?” I tried his name again, but there was no reply.
 
I took a breath and the air in my lungs felt oddly dense. “Dad?”
 
If I was on the street, surely I could find my house. I kept turning in a circle, hoping to see something to guide me home. There was nothing but endless whiteness. No glowing streetlamps, no outlines of cars. My toes didn’t bump into a kerb.
 
My neck prickled. “Who’s there?”
 
No answer.
 
“I know there’s someone out there I can feel you watching me.”
 
My heart thudded and without thinking about it, I broke into a run. I didn’t consider what I might crash into in the weird whiteness, just that I had to escape the intense presence. Some primal instinct told me it was a predator and I was prey. So I ran, hands out in front of me, breath stirring the air until it swirled like smoke but revealed nothing.
 
“Taylor, can you hear me?”
 
At first the voice was so quiet I thought I was imagining it. The tones only tickled my ears, making me turn in search of it. Now at least I had a goal. I would run towards the voice.
 
“Can you hear me, Taylor?”
 
I stopped. The voice was still muffled, but I could hear it much more clearly. “Mum?”
 
“Taylor, it’s coming. You don’t have much time.”
 
“The Darkness, you mean? Where are you?” Desperately I swung my arms, frantic for her touch.
 
“You have to be careful. Some things were not meant to be.”
 
“What wasn’t meant to be?”
 
“I love you, but I have to go, so you’ve got to listen. He’s waiting for you in the Dark, Taylor, and he’s hungry, hungry for the world.”
 
 
“Taylor… Taylor… wake up.”
I bolted upright with a gasp, clawing at my sheets. Finally my hands closed around Justin’s biceps. For a moment I stared at him and I could feel how wide my eyes were, wild and straining. I knew I was digging my nails into his arms, but I couldn’t let go. My breath came in hitching pants and I couldn’t get enough air. “J-Justin?”
“It’s me. You were having a bad dream.”
“The Darkness is coming and we’re not even close to finding your killer.”
“Calm down.” Justin carefully peeled my fingers from his arms. “Let me switch the overhead lights on.”
I slept in the gentle glow of my standard lamp and my bed floated on the light beneath it, but he was right, the main light would help. He found the switch and I sobbed out loud as the brightness immediately dispelled the lingering shadows.
“You’re shaking.” He hesitated then crouched next to me. His torso protruded through the bed turning him into a strange sort of centaur but he was able to put his arms around my shoulders.
I flinched automatically – this was Justin after all. Then I forced myself still, the nightmare remained with me and even the touch of someone I did not like was better than hugging my knees alone.
His skin was cool against mine. At school I’d brushed against him once or twice and I’d always been struck by how warm he was, as if he had an internal furnace that burned harder and brighter than other people’s. Now he was cool.
“You’re dead,” I whispered.
I felt the swift brush of long eyelashes against my forehead as he blinked. Then he pulled back. “I thought we’d established that,” he murmured.
“Yes, but you shouldn’t be.”
He snorted. “Preaching to the choir here.”
I thought of my dream. Was it possible that Mum had really visited me?
“What do
you
think happens when you move on?”
He tilted his head towards the wall in a silent question and I nodded. He leaned back, keeping one arm around me and I curled into him, exhausted and oddly grateful. “I don’t know.” His voice was low, as if he was afraid of being overheard. “I wish I did. Mum used to go to church, but Dad wasn’t into all that stuff. I always figured if you were an OK person it would work out alright in the end…” His voice grew fainter and I felt his muscles tense beneath his blazer.
“And now?” It was my turn to pull back, to examine his face.
He shook his head and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You know how they say people see a light when they die?”
“I guess.” I frowned as I remembered all the dead I’d seen move on. The way the light fractured them into small pieces, or dissolved them away like chemicals on a photo negative.
“Well, I haven’t seen a light. I don’t remember any light when I died and I haven’t seen one since.” He looked at his fingers. “I think it means if I move on I…” he stopped.
“You think you’re going somewhere bad?” I sat up, legs crossed under me. My face felt tight, like I was wearing a clay mask. Surely not? Justin hadn’t been nice to me at school, but I must have tracked down killers for worse people over the years. Everyone went into the light.
He pulled his arm from me and I shivered. “All I know is, there hasn’t been a light. So maybe you’re not the only one the Darkness is coming for.”
I reached for his hand but he moved away. “Do you think you can get back to sleep now?”
I snorted. “Yeah. Nice bedtime story, Hargreaves.”
His lips twisted into a smile. “You want a bedtime story?”
“Guess not.” I scrambled back under my knotted sheet, straightened it out and lay back down. But my eyes stayed open, restlessly darting around the room, looking for shadows, movement, anything out of place.
Justin shook his head, detangled his arm from my hair and moved to my dresser. “What about this?” He was standing over Mum’s book.
I caught my breath. “Actually, yes, please. You could read that.” I padded over to the dresser and brought the book back with me, glad I hadn’t returned it to the dining room.
I settled back down and Justin stood at my side. I opened the book and his eyes scanned the page. He looked at me, surprised. “Are you sure you want me to read this? It doesn’t look very calming.”
“It reminds me of Mum.”
“Well, alright then. From here?”
I nodded and Justin started to read. At first his voice blended into my memory of Mum’s but soon his own tones took over and were all I heard.
 
Enchantments opened a hole a hand’s span from my outstretched arm. In it my eyes perceived the glimmer of gold. To my shame I could not drag my gaze away.
 
“Yours if you pledge yourself to me. In return I will ensure that your line cannot die. Each of your descendents that belongs to me will find… love.” The beast offered a throaty snort. “I am offering you both treasure and immortality, of a kind.” I bowed my head.
 
“So, do you agree?”
 
“I agree.”
 
As the words left my lips the beast caught my face. Claws dug into my cheeks and I gagged as liquid dripped into my mouth.
 
“Swallow and it is done.”
 
 
As soon as I had been allowed to collapse onto the floor, the Lord of Death vanished. Almost in a dream state I scooped the promised treasure into a sack, caught up a lantern and began to seek the exit.
 
Stumbling towards the sunlight, I stopped only when I heard the voice of the Sunbird. Slowly I raised my lantern, eyes straining, but the flame barely touched the glutinous darkness and I was not sure where to look until a gurgling cough drew me.
 
Although it seemed impossible that my fear could grow, it was with a shudder that I saw the Sunbird crawling towards me.
 
“Don’t go.” His voice cracked and foolishly I stopped. Immediately his hand closed around my ankle. His grip was iron, unbreakably strong and I pulled backwards to no avail. Like a determined child the overseer climbed my leg, broken limbs jiggling as they dragged across the floor. Then he gripped my hand.
 
Pain racked me and cold drove into my skin as if hammered there by a pick. Then the Sunbird rose to his knees, no longer forcing his hold on me. I stumbled back as he released my hand. “You must avenge us,” he said.
 
Finally I saw the extent of his injuries. “How did you survive?” My words dropped from numb lips.
 
The sunbird stared through a clotted-crimson mask. “What makes you think I did?”
 
 
Justin stopped. “Are you sure you want me to carry on?”
I nodded, sleepily.
“If this doesn't give you nightmares ...” Justin frowned. “Well, I warned you.” He rubbed his head as I turned the page.
 
Almost insensible with terror, I still remembered to tighten my hand around the sack of treasure before I ran. As I reached the border of dark and light I threw the lantern and hurled myself up the final steps, blinking and half blind.
 
The smells of the dig site assaulted my nose: sweat, food and camel dung. On my knees I gratefully dug my hands into the shifting sand, celebrating the feel of the hot grains pouring through my fingers after the cold dark below.
 
I forced my eyes to open. The invading sunshine forced tears onto my cheeks, but I vowed never again to allow full darkness to wrap me in its embrace.
 
Then my precious sunlight was blocked and I looked up. The Professor stood over me, hands on hips. Titus crouched at his feet; a tiny warped reflection of the beast in the tomb. I struggled to my feet. No hand was offered in aid.
 
“What the devil happened? Where are the others?” The Professor clenched his fists with wild impatience but I had to clear my throat before I could speak.
 
“All gone.” I looked at the sack in my shaking hand then frowned. In the centre of my right palm, where the Sunbird had clutched me, there was a stain, like an ink blot. The hand tingled as if I had been stung.
 
“Look at me, man. What do you mean, gone?”
 
“Dead,” I responded in a low voice. “All dead.”
 
“But you survived? How? Is it still in there?”
 
Slowly I raised my head. “It?” The Professor had known about the beast.
 
He responded to the accusation in my eyes with measured deliberation. “I assume some sort of wild animal was living down there.”
 
“You knew.”
 
The Professor removed his glasses and his face assumed an expression both cynical and sly. “I assumed one of the overseers would deal with the tomb’s protection. Now you’ll have to do the job. Take my gun and get back down there.”
 
With a laugh of disbelief, I tucked my hands beneath my arms, as staunch a refusal as I could make. As I pulled back I saw the Professor’s eyes light on the sack. Immediately he pulled the gun from its holster and directed the muzzle at my chest. “With the treasure in that tomb I will be master of the most powerful society in England. Return, or I will shoot.”
 
BOOK: The Weight of Souls
3.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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