The Beholder (17 page)

He turned to go, and his shape blurred. His companions and the entire dark army of hunters followed suit, taking with them the gloom of the night.

Matt and Debbie got out of the car, their faces iridescent with the reflection of the sky. A majestic dome arched over a quietly sleeping New York, its protective surface twinkling with stars.

“Hey, William,” Matt said cheerfully, his hand extended. “Good to see you. Excellent timing.”

They shook hands. “Wouldn’t have missed it,” William assured him, clapping him on the shoulder.

Matt gestured at the place where Damien and the others had stood. “Looks like you arrived at just the right time. What the hell was that? He wanted to take one of us?”

William nodded quickly, looking annoyed. “Yes, but we have no time for explanations right now,” he said. “We need to get to the restaurant.”

Chapter 30

When he reached the restaurant, Jason cut the engine of the motorcycle and kicked up the stand. Mr. McAlester’s voice, sounding unusually high-pitched, drew his attention and he followed it inside.

“The image of Aurora Borealis, Emily? And above New York? You must be out of your mind.”

“It’s no big deal, William. Besides, that was the only chance I had to get rid of them—at least for a while.”

“But what will the Unsighted think when they wake?” he grumbled.

Emily’s smile was warm. “The Aurora will distract them from what is really happening in our world.”

“But—”

“People will think it’s a miracle,” Emily continued, diffusing William’s arguments as Matt and Debbie came inside the building. “A huge amount of positive Energy will be emitted as a result of it. Don’t kick up a fuss.”

William shrugged reluctantly, then waved for the trio to follow him to the far end of the building. When they were all through, William locked the door behind them. Jason, Debbie, and Matthew automatically headed for the staircase leading to the second floor, but Mr. McAlester shook his head.

“Nah,” he told them, then pointed to a door in the corner. Jason knew it led to the kitchen, and he wasn’t surprised to hear his stomach voice its approval. He was starving. “We’re going this way.”

“Where is everyone?” Debbie asked as they followed McAlester through the quiet restaurant.

“Most of them were made to stay at home,” he said.

“And … I’m guessing New Yorkers are unaware of what Emily did with the hunters, right?” Matt chimed in.

“That’s right. All the Unsighted were, anyway,” William said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emily asked, sounding suspicious. “There are other Sighted in New York besides us?”

“Not yet, but they’re coming,” William replied. “That’s why I’ve been away all this time. I had to try to persuade them to come. Few agreed, actually, until they heard about Jason.”

Emily stopped, frowning with irritation at William, then caught up to them. “What did you tell them?”

“That he is the Beholder. When I told them you’d found him, they rushed here to see him.”

Still unconvinced, Emily narrowed her eyes. “Are they going to help us fight?”

He shrugged. “We’ll see. They think the Beholder will be able to cope with all the hunters and Pariah without their assistance. They believe in him.”

Great. No pressure,
Jason thought.

“Of course they do,” Emily said, sarcasm thick in her voice.

“However, they did say they’d take some of the stray people away from here.”

“Better than nothing.”

“Here we are,” Mr. McAlester announced, ushering everyone into the kitchen. A gleaming set of pots and pans hung from the ceiling, and the stovetop shone as if it were brand new. Jason’s mouth watered. The procession moved to the middle, and William touched a spatula resting on a countertop.

“Who’s cooking?” Matt asked. “Emily’s really good at that.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to eat right now. This is another Fraud Image,” William clarified as he shifted the position of the spatula a bit. “Here.”

It started with the spatula, trembling in place. Then the pots overhead started moving, clanging against each other as the entire kitchen started to quake. Jason corrected himself: it wasn’t actually the kitchen itself, but the fraudulent image of it. The ceiling and the wall tile began to peel away, revealing a new ceiling and walls. The countertop vanished, along with the casseroles, frying pans, cooking utensils, and Jason’s hope for a meal.

They found themselves in a long hallway … in another dimension. The walls and ceiling were covered in bright velvet, emblazoned with intricate symbols unfamiliar to the trio, and accented by black statues of chimeras and demons which stood on both sides of the passage which led from the former kitchen. Jason was fascinated by the colors and the atmosphere they created in the room.

“Come in, please. We’ll soon be safe,” Mr. McAlester said, inviting them towards another door. “We’ll have a little time to rest before the inevitable begins, but first we’ll take a walk.”

He touched the door lightly, and it slid silently upwards like a portcullis. The ornate structure beyond looked like it could have been the nave of a Catholic church, only multiplied many times. Jason’s eyes followed an endless, velvet-arched corridor, admiring the two parallel rows of curving partitions which stretched upwards and met at the peak. The group stepped over the threshold and saw the same glowing, inscrutable legend was inscribed there as well. The door shut behind them.

Jason passed the first pair of arches and looked left and right, noticing they were dark, with feeble lights flickering at each end. On the left, soft golden light flickered gently at the end of a long trail of black.
Like candles burning in the dark of night,
he thought. Whenever he looked down a passage, the light blazed for a moment, then it weakened and died down. He felt a strange pull to the corridors, as if someone within was calling his name. In fact, at one point he thought he could actually hear someone whispering, and he had to fight the urge to enter one of them.

The arches of darkness on the right had the opposite effect, and he stepped away from them. The light flickering within those arches was vermilion red, like the Energy he’d seen coming from the Darksighted above the ocean. And when Jason squinted into the darkness, he swore he could see movement within. Like shadows.

“What are those archways?” Matt asked.

William was walking straight ahead, his eyes never straying to either side. “They are reflections of your feelings,” he said. “Joy, surprise, fear, pain, sorrow, hatred. If you look closely into any gap on the left, you will see yourself experiencing one of the positive feelings in its most intense, pure way. The right side reflects all the fears and doubts you carry within, whether explicit or implicit. You should never concentrate on either side, because the left takes what you have, while the right one gives you some of the negative it contains. Both are fraught with peril, so don’t let them suck you in.”

“And what does the light at the end have to do with it?” Matt asked.

“The light in each arch comes from a vial containing a particular feeling. The brightness shows the strength and intensity of each feeling. You may step into the darkness that guards the vials and remain unharmed, but if you touch a vial, unpredictable things may happen. And some of the lights emanate from fraud vials.

“I can’t tell you the secret of how to acquire one of them without destroying yourself, because I don’t know it. But what I do know is that only a person with pure intentions may take them.”

As they moved on, Jason noticed archways with no light at all.

“There are black gaps here without light,” Debbie said. “Does that mean someone has removed the vials?”

“Do you think that’s what it is, Debbie?” William asked, his eyebrows lifting. “What’s another possibility?”

Debbie was lost in thought for a moment. “Could it be that the vials are there, but we don’t see their light? We can’t see it?”

“Correct.” William clicked his fingers. “These vials give off a different kind of light: dark light.”

“Can you see them?” Matt asked. Jason noticed that, like William, neither Emily nor Tyler looked into the darkness.

“Sighted are extremely vulnerable to the influence of the vials,” McAlester explained, measuring every word carefully. “They make us weaker. We have powers that attract both good and evil. A long time ago I had a real problem with that. I was willing to give up everything for just one vial. I’m not sure how I managed to resist the temptation, but I did.”

“Which one?” Debbie asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied tersely. “These are samples of all emotions in their original form, unblended with other emotions. If you handle them right, they can help. These feelings are timeless. In the world outside, feelings are more fragile. They come and go, too transient in the world of the Unsighted. People lack the necessary knowledge of how to channel their emotions properly.”

“Does this place have a name?” Debbie asked after a quiet moment.

“It’s just a passage you have to get through in order to enter the Choice Room. It’s just one of many.”

“There are lots of these places?” Matt asked.

“Hundreds, actually. A passage is a test you have to take before you can enter the Choice Room. It’s designed to make sure you have no evil intentions.”

While Mr. McAlester was talking to Matt and Debbie, Jason lagged behind, drawn to a dark spot on the right side. He had heard Mr. McAlester’s words, but one particularly narrow gap attracted his attention.
What is so peculiar about it?
he asked himself. He stopped to watch, and someone moved in the dark, much closer to him than other shadows had been. He heard a noise and took a step closer in the hopes of understanding what bothered, yet lured him.

Then he realized it was his own voice, saturated with so much pain he felt ill. He stretched his hand towards the darkness, and the shadow within came alive. A mutilated image of him emerged from the dark, and a slimy hand gripped Jason firmly by the neck. The pain he’d heard in the voice now ran through him like blood, and he gagged, his throat constricted.

The cold fingers pulled Jason’s face towards his hideous reflection, and his forehead touched on a clammy and cool sort of mirror. The reflection’s mouth was distorted, its skin sallow, body slumped, and its hollow eyes bored into him. Jason’s own voice, barely recognizable, slipped through the shadow’s lips, an icy breath sweeping over Jason’s face.

“Do you feel it?” whispered the voice. “Do you feel the pain? It will be yours. It will be the essence of your existence. You’ll
become
pain. You’ll become
me
.”

Panic stricken, Jason struggled hard, trying desperately to escape his ugly twin’s embrace, but the bone hard fingers gripped his neck too firmly. Just when he was sure his skull would crack and his neck would break, the reflection released him, then vanished. Jason collapsed in agony onto the floor, and the pain was gone almost immediately. Instead of the cold, hated fingers, he felt arms wrapped around him, bringing warmth and love.

He looked up into Emily’s concerned gaze. “I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

Only the two of them remained in the passage. The others had already gone. Emily shook her head gently.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “Let’s go. We need to get some rest. Do me a favor? Don’t look into the blackness again.”

“I won’t,” he promised, but had to work hard at not glancing back. When they were far enough away, the voice disappeared, and silence settled in. Jason followed her out of the passage, and relief swept over him after they’d taken several steps away from the arch. He stopped walking and slumped, exhausted.

Emily seemed to understand. She hugged him again, pulling him tight against her, and he wrapped his hands around her waist.

“I just want everything to be over,” he whispered into her ear.

“I know. I want the same thing.” She held him a moment longer, then kissed his cheek and let him go. “Come on. We’re almost there,” she said.

The passage ended at another door, its threshold adorned with more intricate signs. The others had already gone through, so Emily touched the door, and it slid upwards as the other one had. They entered a vast, semi-dark room that reminded Jason of a huge library, but instead of books, the endless rows of shelves towering all around were stacked with boxes. The shelves were lit by electric light, but the top of the shelves disappeared into the murk, and Jason couldn’t see a ceiling. Most of the boxes were neatly placed, but in one of the passages the floor was littered with boxes negligently strewn around. He passed rows and rows of dusty shelves, curious as ever.

“What are these?”

“Don’t touch anything,” Emily warned, and he lowered his hand to his side. “William made this room. The boxes take you to particular destinations.”

Jason craned his neck to try and see the top of the shelf, but the dark swallowed it up.

“We need to go this way,” Emily said, leading him to one of the rows. She stopped beside a large, open box overflowing with old clothes.

“Touch the cloth lightly so we don’t leave traces for Pariah to find us,” she said.

Jason did, and without warning he and Emily shot upwards through the ceiling, dousing them both in bright light. A few short moments later they were at the entrance to a stately, high-ceilinged chamber with enormous windows that invited sunlight. They walked to the middle of the room, their steps echoing off the varnished parquet floor. Emily put one finger to her lips, warning him to step quietly, then pointed.

“Make yourself at home,” Emily whispered, smiling. “They have.”

William was already asleep on a beautifully upholstered couch, his breaths a low, rumbling snore. Matt and Debbie were also sleeping, having claimed a throne-like padded armchair and an expensive-looking silver sofa. Tyler was nowhere to be seen.

Tiptoeing lightly across the room, Jason gazed out one of the numerous arched windows. “Where are we?” he asked.