The Death Seer (Skeleton Key) (11 page)

The sudden rise in his voice silenced me for a moment.
 

He shoved his hands in his hair and tensed before dropping his arms to his sides. “I don’t know where we are. You’re right, we should probably sleep in the cave. We can explore tomorrow.”

It was nice to be “right” about something, but I was still feeling rather awful at my responsibility for this predicament. He turned around and looked at the rock wall in front of him, examining for a moment before pulling me inside. I let him guide me in, but I was looking over my shoulder, looking for the swamp. “Where is it?” I asked. All I could see were black plains and hills beyond.

“Where’s what?”

“Suicide Swamp.”

Kord sighed and slumped to the floor, his back to the wall. “You should have stayed put. You don’t know how this world works.”

I sat across from him. The torches along the wall cast and orange, flickering light. “I said I’m sorry. Why didn’t you come back?”

“I did, damn it!” he shouted, then dropped his head back against the wall and took a deep breath. “I did.” His voice was calmer, quieter. “I went back and the sisters said you’d gone looking for me. Yeah, I was out longer than I wanted to be, but I made it back by nightfall and you were gone. You should have—”

“Waited. I know. I get it. And for the last time, I’m sorry.”

I wished he’d take off the sunglasses, they obscured just enough of his expression that I couldn’t read it.
 

“I heard you screaming,” he said. “I ran as fast as I could. I’ve never been here before, but I followed your screams.”

“And caught me just in time.”

He shook his head. “What were you doing, Brenna?”

So I told him about my day. Just one day and yet a journey that felt like a lifetime. I told him, and he looked more and more defeated with each word. At the end, he slumped against the wall. “So many ways I could have lost you today,” he muttered.

I crawled over and sat next to him, threading my fingers with his, our hands resting on the stone floor. He squeezed my hand and didn’t let go. “Did you find your mother?” I asked.

His body relaxed next to mine. “No.”

“No? I thought you knew exactly where she was.”

“I do. Did. She wasn’t there. And…it’s not exactly about knowing where she is. It’s about my connection to her. You probably figured out the swamp isn’t really a place you can find by direction. You can only get there through despair. Which is why I’m surprised you found it. I didn’t think you’d despair so easily.”

I frowned, uneasy at the idea that Kord might think me weak. “You put it on the map. It had a location. A direction.”

“That’s how I found it the first time. I was looking for my mother, searching everywhere. I came through those woods, and as you noticed, they’re a rather bleak place. Their bleakness contributed to my despair, and that’s how I found it. That’s how I drew it.”

“So you basically lied to me when you showed me how to get there.”

“Yeah. I did. Because you wouldn’t let me go if I didn’t give you something. I didn’t think you’d ever find it.”

“You shouldn’t have lied to me!”

“You shouldn’t have gone wandering off! Besides, it didn’t turn out to be a lie, did it. You followed the map and it got you to the swamp. You almost lost your soul, and then you went with some stranger and almost lost your life.”

“Forgive me for caring about you enough to try and save you.”

“I don’t need saving. This has been my home for ten long, horrible years. You’re the one who needs saving.”

This rankled. I pulled my hand from his and retreated to the other side of the cave. “You’d not have sat around waiting if the situation were reversed,” I said through my teeth.
 

He didn’t answer. Just gave me that inscrutable stare.
 

A scream of utter horror pierced the darkness from outside the cave. We both jolted and inched further from the opening.

“Banshees,” Kord whispered.

“What?”

“Death’s messengers.”

More screams joined the first. They seemed far enough away not to be a threat, but their ominous nature still sent chills like cold swords through my soul. “You don’t think they’ll come here, do you?” I whispered.

“Don’t know. We should follow them.”

“What?”

He was turned toward the cave opening. “They’re Death’s messengers. I couldn’t find my mother, but maybe she’s not the only one who knows how to find him. The banshees should know.”

“I’m not going anywhere near those screams.”

“They can’t hurt us. We’re already in the underworld.”

“At least one of us isn’t dead, I’ll remind you. Couldn’t I still die?”

“So what if you did? You wouldn’t have to travel very far, right? Come on, let’s go find them.”

“You don’t mean that.”

He stopped at the edge of the cave and turned to me. “You’re right. I want you alive. And you will be. The banshees herald death, they don’t cause it. I wouldn’t lead you into danger, I swear.”

I studied him for a moment, then nodded and took his hand. We blundered into the night, walking fast and occasionally jogging toward the terrifying screams. The terrain was uneven and rocky. Occasionally my ankle would twist as my foot slipped on a rock, but I managed to keep pace with Kord.

The screams never seemed to get closer or farther. We were keeping up, but not making any headway, and I didn’t know about Kord, but I was out of breath after a while.

At last we stopped. He turned to me. “You okay?”

“We aren’t catching up to them,” I panted.

He pressed his lips together and looked all around. “You’re right. We aren’t actually getting anywhere.”

It certainly seemed that way. Like we’d been running on a treadmill. A rocky, sloped, horrible treadmill. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep.
 

“I think they’re up there,” Kord said.
 

I looked up but couldn’t see what he was seeing. I knew we were walking alongside the rock face that Grim had led me into, but I had no idea how high it went. Kord’s back was too me, his sunglasses pushed to the top of his head.

He stiffened. “Yes. Right there, did you see it?”

I could barely see my hand if I held it up in front of me. All that was up there was blackness.
 

“They’re on that ledge. We’ll have to climb.”

I grabbed his arm before he could leave me behind. “We have to wait until morning. We can’t see further than a few feet.”

“They could be gone in the morning.”
 

He was straining against my grip, not pulling away, but tense with the desire to do so. “Are you even sure they’re up there? It sounds like the screams were coming from up ahead.”

“The sound must be bouncing around. They’re up there. Right there, did you see that?”

“I don’t see anything.”

He turned to me, and I jolted backwards a step. The glow in his irises had always been a discomfiting sight, but in the dark it was more pronounced…frightening, even. “I can see them because of these.” He pointed to his eyes. “I can see things you can’t.”

I swallowed and resisted taking another step backwards. “Can you see the rock face? Because if you can’t, then we should wait until morning.”

He glanced back at the rock, then to me, then back again. Then he shocked me further by throwing his head back and shouting, “Banshees! Come down and hear me!”

He stepped back and put his arm around my shoulders, drawing me to his side. I found myself staring up at the rock as though I could possibly see what was going on. “Are they coming?” I asked in a whisper.

“One of them.” He dropped the glasses back over his eyes.

He held me tightly. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear, or out of concern for my safety. At last I saw movement. It was black on black, but there was enough light to see a figure crawling down the wall. It appeared to be crawling down head first. It crawled onto the ground and rose to its feet right in front of us. The hood of its cloak fell back to reveal a heinous, female face with black lips and black, empty eyes. It opened its mouth an unnatural width and screamed.

I couldn’t help turning into Kord’s chest and covering my ears with my hands. He wrapped both arms around me. That scream might not have the power to do physical harm, but it struck the terror of death into my soul. That fear you get when there’s a close call—you almost fell off a cliff, you almost got in a car wreck—that momentary fear was what those screams evoked, and it lingered long after the scream ceased. I felt Kord breathing fast and hard, his body trembling lightly against mine.

“We’re looking for Father Death,” Kord said in an impossibly strong voice.

The banshee screamed again. This time Kord and I fell to our knees. I thought my heart might pound so hard it would burst and I’d truly die, right there in the underworld.
 
Kord had let go of me, both of us hunkered down and covering our ears with our hands.

When at last the scream ended, Kord struggled to his feet. I followed suit, my legs weak, my head dizzy with fear. Kord pushed his glasses back up on his head. The banshee’s mouth was open in preparation for another scream, but when it looked into Kord’s glowing eyes, it stopped. It closed its mouth and cocked its head.

“Do you know where Father Death is?” Kord asked again.

The banshee stepped closer to him, tipping its head from one side to the other, studying him. Kord stood bravely, letting it get close. It reached out with long, knobby fingers and touched his face. If he shivered in terror, he kept it from showing.

With a hiss, the banshee withdrew.
 

And then she started to sing.
 

The song wasn’t beautiful, but it had a power to it. I watched Kord and saw his body go stiff and rigid. I reached out to touch him. For a moment, I noticed how his muscles vibrated with tension. And then my hand touched the flesh of his forearm and I was transported.

The song wove a story. Kord and I were mere bystanders as we watched it unfold.
 

A man in a cloak stands at a door. My door. It looks exactly like the wooden door I’d come in through. He puts a glass key in the lock, turns it, and passes through. There is sunlight and mowed lawns and people hugging. The man trades his cloak for jeans and a t-shirt. He is handsome—not young or old, but seemingly ageless. He walks the streets and watches and learns. He smiles.

He is sitting in a diner talking to a waitress. She blushes and laughs at his jokes. She touches his shoulder. He touches her hand.

They are standing at the door, embracing. She weeps. He kisses her over and over. He cups her face and kisses her deeply. He walks through the door, and she falls to her knees and cries.

She is holding a baby. She is sitting in a hospital rocking back and forth, staring blankly ahead of her, holding a baby with glowing eyes.
 

The boy is ten. He’s screaming at his mother. The mother is crawling around on the floor shouting something about a key…about how she can’t find the key. The boy begs her to stop. He’s wearing a blindfold. He takes it off and looks at her. She meets his eyes and for a moment, they stare at each other, both faces morphed in horror. “No,” the boy whispers. “No!” He starts screaming, digging his palms into his eyes, shaking his head. The woman holds him and cries with him.

She is lying in her bed with blood pouring out of her wrists. The boy is sobbing as he clings to her. There is a dark light forming beneath and around her. Slowly she sinks into it, vanishing from sight. The boy holds onto her, shouting. He climbs into the light and follows her.

The man, now in his black cloak again, is looking at a candle. The flame was burning and now it’s not. It didn’t burn out. It just stopped burning. The man falls to his knees and cries.

The man is in Suicide Swamp. He’s wandering, searching, lost. He cries her name over and over until he’s only crying.
 

The man is in Suicide Swamp. He has a long beard, now, and his eyes have bags under them. His steps are short and slow. His arms hang limp at his sides. There are salt tracks down his cheeks. He stops, looks down. His face morphs into an expression of shock and sorrow and joy all at once. He kneels in the swamp and lifts a woman out. The body jolts in his arms. It is sometimes limp and sometimes convulsing. “Isabella,” the man whispers. She doesn’t answer. He puts his hand over her heart and closes his eyes, but when nothing happens, he growls in frustration. He lifts her into his arms and begins walking.

The man is in the cave with the candles. He has lain the woman on the floor and is kneeling next to her with the burnt out candle. He tries to light the candle with a match. He puts the lit match in the woman’s hand, closing her fingers around it, and tries to force her to light the candle. He reaches to the wall and grabs a random candle, knocking off another in his rush to light the woman’s life spark. He tries to light hers with the other candle, but fails. He drops the lit candle to the floor, stands, and paces. The two candles on the floor remain lit until his pacing causes him to pass near them. The wind from his cloak snuffs them out, first one, then the other.