Mystify (18 page)

But you don’t want to tell me what it was like?”

“I just did. I had something else to do, so I couldn’t meet you. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with you the way you made it seem.”

He shrugs. “I can’t really tell with you.”

I swallow and realize I’m going to have to put it all out there. “I know I’ve been kind of on the fence with this whole thing, but I just had some stupid hang-ups about us being together. I’m not ashamed of you or of us, together, I mean. I’m really not.”

“Prove it,” he says, and the corner of his mouth kind of lifts into a smile.

I don’t really know how to prove this to him. Or rather, I don’t know what he expects me to do. But on impulse, I take another step closer to him. I push up on my tiptoes because he’s taller than me, and I kiss him. Right there in the hallway with the after-school kids still hanging around, I, Sasha Carrington, supposed Richie, kiss Antoine Watson, supposed bad boy, right on the lips.

His smile grows bigger, then he wraps his arms around me and kisses me right back.

And for this one moment in time, I feel like all is well.

Five Weeks Later

It’s
the last day of school.

Weeks have gone by since the storm, since we saw those inky black things come from the funnel. I haven’t traveled to the Majestic, nor have I spoken to Fatima the Messenger.

Krystal hasn’t had any visions about Mr. Bryant and his research, and Jake seems to be coming out of his funk. Lindsey’s a little touch-and-go sometimes, but I can tell she’s really trying to fit in with us. I think she already does.

Casietta’s still gone. I’ve written her two letters but haven’t received any response. At some point, I guess I’ll give up. My dad came back from his business trip, and he’s even more quiet than ever. I don’t care. I don’t have much to say to him anyway. My mom’s been a little weird, coming into my room a lot, acting like she just wants to talk. She’s still on the health food kick, and she still loves her committees, but I think something’s changed with her since Casietta left.

Antoine is my boyfriend. Yes, it’s official. He even came to dinner at my house last week. It was just me, him and my mother, but that was just fine.

I wonder if the Darkness has moved on.

Then I look up as we’re sitting in the cafeteria and see it.

At the far end, where the exit doors are, there are two
windows on the side. The sun is shining through every other window in the cafeteria. Except these two.

The panes have grown dark.

“Ah, guys,” I say to Krystal and Jake. Lindsey’s sitting right beside me, so I tap her on the leg.

They all follow my gaze.

Through the dark window panes, a thick gooey goop is coming. It’s trailing down the walls, touching the floor, then sliding across like a trail of blood.

We don’t move, don’t say a word, but the heat at my side and the sight of Krystal rubbing the back of her neck says we’re thinking along the same lines.

The Darkness is back.

I
never knew there were different levels of Hell. Then again, I had no idea there was such a thing as demons and gods and souls to be taken. Life for me has existed around my father’s incessant rantings about storm patterns and excess energy. Good and bad seemed like basic common sense. Do good things, don’t do bad things. Everybody learned that as a kid. Some experts call it discipline.

Yet this is different. This dark, cold place I find myself in. Oh yeah, the burning in the fires of hell theory might be true, but not on the level I’m in at the moment. Where I’m at, my breath is like frost, my fingers already numb, even though I think I’ve only been here a couple of minutes.

The move happened quick, like a flash of light. One minute I was with Krystal—ah, remembering her touch warms me a bit. Let’s hope that memory lasts, I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need some nice hot thoughts to get me through this. For about the time it took me to blink or inhale, I was gone from Krystal’s arms and dropped here. In Hell.

How do I know I’m in Hell?

Because there is no feeling, good or bad. There is no end. I’m like on this ledge, and if I take a step, I’ll fall, but I don’t know where I’ll fall to. Probably another level but I can’t see it. There’s nothing down there but pitch black. The ledge only looks like it goes so far, then there’s nothing.

I’m all alone.

Yes, this is definitely Hell.

Another reason I know I’m in Hell—all the skulls and other dead body parts that seem frozen into the wall behind me. They look like somebody scared the hell out of them—no pun intended. Or scared them directly into Hell—either way it’s not a cool sight.

And while I should be afraid, should be wondering how I came to be here and what will happen to me next, I’m not.

I don’t even jump when icy cold fingers touch my shoulder. And when I look down, I see bones, finger bones, but bones nonetheless, resting on my left shoulder as if waiting for me to acknowledge them. So I turn slowly, being extra careful not to let my foot go over the edge and fall into the dark oblivion.

My heart should have been beating fast with fear, but I don’t think my heart’s in there anymore. Actually, it doesn’t feel like I have anything on the inside. No thumping, no movement, just nothing. Kind of like what it looks like to fall off this ledge.

Of course there’s a body attached to the bone fingers. It’s wearing all black—how appropriate. The robe seems long and the hood is lifted, and there’s no face—like the pictures of a reaper. But if I’m in Hell, I’m already dead, so there’s no need for a reaper to come for me.

“Come. He waits.” The reaperlike thing has a deep voice that echoes off the nothing environment and almost busts my eardrum.

When I don’t make a move, the bone fingers grab me up by the collar. My feet are dangling in the air now, no skinny ledge and no falling into nothing. Better yet, reaperlike thing has just sprouted wings from his back, and the next thing I know, we’re both lifted into the cold air of darkness. The
wings are huge and gray-black, flapping wildly, creating a loud clacking sound and an even cooler breeze.

There’s just more dark for as far as I can see, but reaperlike flying thing is moving quick, as if it knows exactly where to go and how to get there.

Again, I’m not afraid but figure that’ll change soon enough.

1. Have you ever been asked to choose friends based on their status or how much money they had? If so, how did you handle it?
   
2. Do you think Sasha should be more honest with Antoine about how she feels about him?
   
3. Sasha can astral project to another plane called the Majestic. Do you believe another world or dimension, besides Earth, exists?
   
4. The Majestic is home to magical beings. How do you think the knowledge of this place will affect the Mystyx?
   
5. Sasha unknowingly hurts Krystal and Jake’s feelings by snubbing them for her wealthy friends. How do you think she could have handled the situation better?
   
6. Greek mythology is prevalent in modern-day astrology. Have you ever felt that the sun or the moon exuded some type of power over your actions and behavior? How?
   
7. Because Lindsey reveals herself as one of the Mystyx, Sasha wonders if there is a particular reason that Lindsey showed up in Lincoln. Do you think it’s connected to the battle they’re preparing for or just a coincidence?
   
8. What ways do you think the Mystyx can use their powers to fight the Darkness? What are the limits of their powers and how do you think it will affect their ability to battle evil?