Ashes to Ashes (18 page)

Reena's eyes are glowing with a golden tinge, with a heated excitement.

“Go on,” she says, her voice eager. “What happened?'

“I don't know,” I say. “I felt weird—like my body was shaking. And then there was a lot of pain.”

Reena looks at me, her eyes widening.

“What is it?” I ask. “You don't think that what Carson was doing . . . the chanting . . . you don't think that it actually started
working
 . . . do you?”

She stares back at me and her expression flickers for a moment between knowledge and disbelief. But then she says, “Séances don't work on ghosts.”

“Okay.” The idea that Carson's woo-woo words could have called me back wasn't one I was expecting to buy into, but . . . “It was scary,” I admit. “I felt an intense pull inside me.”

“How do you feel now?” she asks.

“Now?” I take stock of my energy, my being. “Normal. It's like nothing happened.”

Reena nods. “You're okay. You're not as breakable as Thatcher thinks you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that he's overly protective, and he doesn't need to be. You're strong.”

I grin, proud that Reena views me that way.

“Where
is
Thatcher?” I ask, surprised that he wasn't waiting here for me. He must have completely freaked out when he returned to my prism and discovered I wasn't there. Or maybe he just figured that I needed some space.

“There's a merging ceremony tonight,” says Reena. “The Guides always have to attend, so I guess he's been . . . distracted.”

“A merging ceremony . . . can anyone go?”

“Well, we don't usually attend,” says Reena. “I mean, they're weird and scary and generally kind of insane.”

“I'm curious,” I say, because I am. Part of me wants to stay in this in-between world with Reena and her friends, who remind me so much of life and who've promised that I can stay with the people I love if I choose to. But Thatcher . . . he does care about me, and this ceremony, merging with Solus, this is what he believes in. It's what my mother believed in.

“I want to go,” I say.

Reena smiles. “Okay. I'll tell the others. But don't say I didn't warn you.”

Seventeen

WHEN WE STEP OUT
of my prism, we're in the middle of a clearing in a giant rain forest. At least, I think it's what a rain forest would be like—I've never seen one. There are lush green leaves all around us, and they have drops of dew hanging on them, dripping slowly to the soft ground. I hear birds chirping all around us and sprinkling water sounds in the distance, but there are no clouds. Still, the tinkling melody sounds like raindrops on a windowpane.

“What's the music?” I ask.

“Mbiras,” says a ghost who's standing near us. She smiles at me, and her eyes are pleasant, friendly. “They're instruments from Africa that are wooden boards with metal keys. People on Earth use them to speak to the dead—and the Guides play them up here to usher ghosts toward Solus.”

She pronounces it the way Thatcher does—
Solace—
and I smile at her.

Reena takes my arm and leads me away from the other ghost before I can thank her, and we stand apart from the others. “There's a good view from here,” she says.

A part of me wonders if she's trying to isolate me—keep me to herself.

With Norris and Delia in tow, Leo walks up behind us, and I tense.

“Hey,” I say.

“Sorry about before at the train tracks,” says Leo, and he does appear contrite. “I was really just trying to have some fun.”

But he keeps doing it at my expense, like in the coffee shop. Reena's told me he takes his death harder than the rest of them. What was it she said? He's “troubled.” I understand. “Just discuss it with me in advance next time? Give me a choice.”

“You got it.”

My shoulders relax.

“I can't believe you want to see this, Callie,” says Delia.

“Yeah,” says Norris. “Are you sure you're ready?”

“I don't know,” I say, and I wonder if I should be more nervous. But I want to know what happens, what merging is like.

Reena is by my side. “I think after you see it, you'll understand why we want to stay in the Prism.”

We're on the edge of a pathway lined with smooth white stones. The ghosts stand alongside the border of the walk, and I look around to see if Thatcher is here. Will he be angry if he sees me with Reena and Leo?

As I'm searching the crowd, everyone turns at once with a collective breath, like when a bride enters the church for her wedding. All eyes are on Ella Hartley, who's coming down the path wearing a shining silver gown that hangs around her lithe form in soft, floating waves. I realize as she passes us that the dress isn't really there—it's an illusion, an impression, but it looks very real. It ripples along the ground as she steps forward, and it seems to shimmer with every movement.

“What's happening?” I whisper to Reena.

“It's her ceremony,” she says.

A prick of panic skitters through me. “Ella's? I didn't know the ceremony was for her. . . .” A current of sadness sweeps through me—this is someone I knew on Earth, someone I grew up with. We weren't close, but still.

“How does it work?” I ask.

Reena turns and looks at me. “She'll vanish. Right before our eyes.”

I gulp down saliva I know isn't really there. Just another phantom sensation.

“The Guides and most of the ghosts believe she's moving on to something wonderful,” whispers Reena.

“And what do you believe?” I ask.

Reena holds my gaze, utter conviction in hers. “We think that she truly dies now.”

My phantom heart lodges itself in my throat as Ella walks through the crowd of ghosts.
Is everyone watching this happen like it's okay?
The ghosts around me look at Ella without expression, and when I take in their faces, I see a sea of strangers, dead strangers. I shake off a chill.

When Ella gets to the front, she steps onto a podium, turns, and smiles at everyone. I look for fear in her gaze, but I don't see any. She lifts her face up to the sky; she's beaming with radiant energy.

But I'm terrified. I have a strong urge to run.

Then a bright light shines down on Ella and the podium, and the rainlike music speeds up, its gentle rhythm getting faster and faster.

Leo, Reena, Norris, and Delia look pensive, worried, afraid. But when I glance around, it doesn't seem like anyone else is showing any fear. The other ghosts' faces are placid, smiling. Their peaceful expressions are perfectly still. The image of a cicada shell comes to my mind. They're these bugs that are like a plague some summers—making a loud buzzing sound in the evening and clinging to all the trees, everywhere. At some point, they shed their skin and just leave it hanging on to whatever surface they've chosen. The skin looks like it was in life, but it's just the shell of the being that was once inside it. It's hollow, emptied of life. Is that what ghosts are? Am I a cicada shell, my life force gone completely?

Ella's form starts to flicker, and the light around her grows even brighter. It's like she's a hologram or a website that won't quite load. The mbiras are at full speed now, plinking out a thunderstorm rhythm.

My heart races in time with the music. Ella Hartley. I'm about to witness her
disappearance.

“Is she—” I start.

“I told you, Callie,” interrupts Reena, her voice serious in a way I've never heard it. “She's going to die now.”

I look at Reena's face. She's smiling, and when I look at Leo, I see that he is, too.

“But this is awful,” I say. “This is . . .”

“This is what the Guides do,” says Leo. “They insist that everyone merge.”

“It isn't fair,” I say, grabbing onto Reena's arm. “What if Ella doesn't want to go . . . what if she's—”

I look up at her again on the podium, and Ella lowers her head for a moment. Her eyes catch mine, and I think I see a shadow cross her face. It's all I need.

“Stop!” I shout. “Stop the ceremony!”

I drop Reena's arm, rushing out onto the pathway, and concerned murmurs rise among the ghosts. All eyes turn toward my direction.

“Ella, get down from there!” I yell, hurrying toward her. “You don't want this!”

“Callie?” Ella calls.

Then Thatcher stumbles into the middle pathway, too—he was up front, close to Ella. I see Sarah and Ryan behind him.

Leo, Reena, Delia, and Norris step out behind me.

“What are you doing here?” Thatcher asks me.

He's a furious storm ready to be released. It's obvious that he has a really tight rein on his emotions. I'm not sure I want to be around when he unleashes them. On the other hand, this is wrong. We have to make him see that. For Ella's sake.

The whole forest has gone silent. Even the mbiras are still.

“We brought her,” says Reena, answering for me. Her eyes are burning gold as she stares at Thatcher and the other Guides. “She has a right to see what you're doing. What a merging is like.”

Thatcher moves closer, coming toward us as the ghosts at the edge of the path watch, riveted.

“Callie, I don't know what they've told you, but none of it is true,” he says. “Solus is like what you think of as Heaven; it's a beautiful—”

“Solus is a myth, Thatcher!” shouts Reena, her voice bold now. She's got the attention of the whole forest. “The Guides are perpetuating a lie—there is no such thing as Solus. The Prism is the only afterlife we'll ever know. And we're not leaving just so you and the Guides can continue sending ghosts away and keeping this world—and your connection to Earth—for yourselves.”

I didn't know that her desire to stay on Earth went this deep—that she thinks Thatcher and the Guides are deceiving everyone. A rumble goes up behind her, and I realize that she has more supporters in the crowd than just the friends we came with.

I'm standing between them—between Reena and Thatcher—and I don't know which way to turn to move out of the crossfire. My request to come here, to see this ceremony, suddenly feels like a mistake. I just wanted to learn more about this world, but now it's obvious I'm smack-dab in the middle of a conflict that is much bigger than I knew.

“You think we Guides
like it here
?” asks Thatcher, his voice strained. “In this transitional space where we guide new ghosts only to see them move on? Where we form no relationships and are reminded constantly that we have loved ones who never got over our deaths?” He looks around now, at the many ghosts watching us. It feels like all of the Prism is listening to this exchange, hanging on every word. There's a celestial glow in this space and on the faces of everyone gathered here. If you were to stumble upon this scene, it would look almost holy, not like the battle it's turning into.

“That's who your Guides are,” says Thatcher, his voice loud and strong. “We're the ghosts who couldn't move on, the ones whose haunting hasn't worked. Oh, we know how to help others, but we're too broken to help ourselves.”

Looking around at the ghosts, I realize that most of them didn't know this—they're blissfully unaware of how things work in the Prism. They appear surprised, curious even, but unconcerned. They're unencumbered by memories, content to be haunting on the path to Solus. But the people who remember—we can't be content. We feel too much pain.

In Reena's face I see the anguish, and suddenly I wonder if more ghosts than just Leo are “troubled.” Maybe we all are.

Is this what returning to your death spot causes?

“You aren't helping ghosts by forcing them to merge,” says Reena, her volume growing to match Thatcher's as she addresses the crowd now, too. “If any of you are afraid of this, of Solus, you can come with us.” She motions toward Leo, Delia, Norris. I notice that a few other ghosts have gathered behind her—the crowd is growing. “We'll show you what you're forgetting—your
lives
on Earth. We can share energy; we can remain on Earth with our families and friends. With Callie, we can—”

“Whoooooooosh!”
Sarah lets out a noise like the wind rushing through trees as she puts Reena on the ground. The force of her motion swishes by me, and Thatcher catches my arm, keeping me from falling.

Reena jumps to her feet, standing strong and ready. She smiles at me, but it's not the friendly grin I'm used to. She looks pained.

“Get Callie out of here,” Sarah says to Thatcher. “I'll handle the poltergeists.”

Poltergeists?

Thatcher holds tight to my arm as I try to pull away. “I'm not going with you,” I say. I need to understand what's happening. Why do I feel like secrets are being kept from me?

The breath is knocked out of me as Thatcher grabs me around my waist and tugs me through a portal. As we hurtle through the darkness, I'm struggling against him, shouting, but my voice is drowned out by our speed-of-light movement.

We emerge onto what looks like a decked patio, with wooden furniture and leafy plants. A hammock is strung diagonally between the narrow walls. It's a peaceful place, but I'm not in the mood for tranquillity. “How dare you!” I spit, wrenching myself away from him.

“How dare
I
?” he shouts, nearly speechless with anger.

I cross my arms over my chest and stare out at the broad-leafed plants.

“You shouldn't have been there,” says Thatcher, standing toe-to-toe with me. “It was too soon for you to see a merging ceremony. You
ruined
Ella's transition with your impulsive actions. You're not even well into your haunting—you still have to create a real peace with Nick and Carson—you haven't started with your father yet. I've trusted you, I've revealed more to you than anyone, and—”

“You've trusted me?” I say, cutting off his rant and batting away the arrow of guilt I feel about Ella. “More like you've
lied
to me.”

“I haven't—” Thatcher starts, but I cut him off again. If he's going to accuse me of a betrayal, then I'm going to confront him, too.

“The portals lead you where you need to go, Thatcher? Is that how it works?” My voice is shaking now. “Those doors are the only way I have of accessing my life, the people I love, and you withheld that from me. You made me think I couldn't control my own movements.”

“I was protecting you!” he says, exasperated.

“From
what
?” I ask.

He clamps his mouth into a tight line and closes his eyes, like he's putting a lid over what he might say. Finally meeting my gaze, he reaches out and folds his strong hands around my upper arms. A flash of heat pulses through me, not the comforting heat of before. It's reverberating with his frustration.

“If you haunt on your own, there are so many things that could go wrong,” he says, and his voice falters a little bit. “You don't know what a failed haunting feels like, and if I'm not there, you might . . .” He stops talking, and I wonder if he can see the truth on my face.

“You've already haunted them without me,” he says. He doesn't sound mad or surprised, really, just . . . sad, defeated.

I nod and look down, still angry, but now I'm dealing with a trickle of guilt, too. “You really can read people,” I say. I'm so confused. I don't know who to trust, what to believe.

“You've seen Carson?” he asks.

I nod again.

“And . . . Nick?”

I look up at him then, and I think I see pain in his eyes.

“Yes,” I say.

“Your father?”

“No . . . I . . . I can't face him yet. Seeing Nick's struggles is hard enough. It must be so much worse for my dad.”

“Reena will try to take you to your death spot,” he says. “She wants you to become like them.”

“I'm already like them,” I say. “And I'm like you, too, and like the other Guides. I remember my life, I already feel the same pain you feel.”