Surrender (24 page)

He felt close as the crowd surged around me, and I probed with my powers, searching for him. “Do you feel that?” I whispered to Max.

“I feel
you
,” he said. “What're you doing?”

“Neos is here.” The moment I said the words, I realized I was wrong. “No, he's not. His ashes. I'm feeling his ashes.”

Power sparked inside Max, and he turned businesslike. “Where?”

“I don't know, it's still muffled.”

Then we both felt it. An eruption of spectral hunger and rot that sent malevolent echoes throughout the room. Max pointed toward one of the back hallways. “There?”

“Yeah. I thought it was closer, but …” I shook my head. “You get the others, I'll go ahead.”

“By yourself?”

“Simon said we had to be fast. We've got maybe fifteen minutes,” I said. “Go!”

Max said, “If you get hurt, I'll kill you,” then started shouldering through the crowd toward the door through which the others had disappeared.

I weaved through a bunch of parents drinking wine. The sense of being surrounded by Neos's power stayed with me, but I kept my focus on the strongest eruption of nastiness and followed it into the hallway.

When the door closed behind me, the noise and heat of the main hall became muffled. My hand moved to my hip, but of course I had no dagger.

“Okay, Emma,” I said in the deserted hallway. Not just to myself, but to the other Emma. This was
her
house; her power still resonated through these walls. And yeah, maybe Neos had staged every step of this fight, but that had to count for something.

My spine tingled so sharply that it felt like pinpricks.
I drew my power into my arms and my clenched fists. This wasn't just Emma's house—this was mine: my school, my friends. My life. And I wasn't going to let Neos take it from me.

The clattering of my heels sounded flat and lonely in the corridor as I crept toward the spectral stench. I passed the first two student lounges, the doors to the computer lab, and one of the classrooms, and came to the end of the hallway, where I found a dark stain on the floor. Except that was no stain, that was an inky-black shadow, a shadow with no source, cast by no light.

It was a rip in the veil between the worlds. My power swirled around me as wraiths poured out of the Beyond. Three of them, insectoid and famished, with tattered skin and insatiable hunger. Their whispers almost deafened me:
Neos, Neos, crack the skin and suck the flesh
. They rushed me, bony claws grasping, gaping mouths spitting acid.

I smiled as my power flowed around me until I was covered with a translucent layer of energy, compelling and dispelling magic swirling together. I backhanded the first wraith and it burst into shards.

The second wraith lunged for my throat and I sidestepped, spun, and elbowed it in the back of the neck. A spectral joint snapped and the second wraith dissolved. The third wraith hesitated, hissing and spitting.

A ray of power shot from my fingertips, melting it into a black tarry stain on the floor. But it wasn't dead. The tarry stain thickened and grew and took the form of a
child—a little blond girl who stared at me with big, pleading eyes.

But I'd met this kind of wraith before, and I wasn't going to waste any tears this time. She crawled toward me, inky tendrils sprouting from her fingernails, and I blasted her into dust.

Her death seemed to trigger a reaction. More wraiths boiled from the Beyond, maybe a dozen of them—hard to tell where one ended and the next began. I kneed one wraith in the face and twisted another like a dishrag as I heard footsteps running toward me from behind. Max yelled, “The ashes, Em! Where are the ashes?”

Oh, God. I'd gotten so caught up in killing wraiths, I'd forgotten. “I don't know—not here.”

“Find them,” Lukas said. “We've got this.”

Following him and Max were Natalie and the Sterns—and Natalie's mom, looking terrified but willing. As a group, they rushed toward me, bristling with ghostkeeping powers. Natalie and her mother held hands and Natalie used her reverse-summoning power to banish a wraith, which she'd never been strong enough to do before—she was directing her mother's power, too. When Natalie and I held hands, we always interfered with each other, but she and her mother seemed to work together on some instinctive level.

“This is why, Natalie,” her mother cried. “This is why I didn't want this life for you.”

“This
is
why,” Natalie yelled back triumphantly, banishing another wraith. “Why I love it!”

Then Lukas plowed into a bunch of wraiths, parting them like Moses parted the Red Sea—slamming half against one wall and half against the other, while Max and Mrs. Stern started ripping into them. Mr. Stern hung back—unable to see the wraiths, but ready to rush in and drag anyone away if necessary, which struck me as the bravest thing of all.

They looked pretty good, but that was a lot of wraiths, and I wasn't sure they could win. Actually, I was pretty sure they couldn't.

“Neos sent these as a distraction,” Mrs. Stern told me. “To keep you from finding the ashes.”

I still hesitated. What if they lost because I left them?

“Don't let him win,” Natalie told me. “Move your butt, Emma.”

She was right. I had to trust them. I backpedaled, and while the wraiths howled and snapped and swarmed after me, the others held them back.

Fifty feet down the hallway, with the sound of the battle echoing behind me, I sensed another source of Neos's power. It came from the main hall, a dull throb of anger and hate. Crap. We'd left the students and their parents totally defenseless.

When would my parents get here? They could be helping. And where the hell was Bennett? He promised he'd be here.

I ran, bursting through the doors into the main hall, full of heat and noise. Then I stopped. Nothing looked different, but everything felt wrong.

The ashes were here. In the main hall. They'd
always
been here.

Except I still couldn't tell where, exactly. I sidestepped through the crowd, ignoring everyone, my powers stretched to the limit, as I closed in on the ashes. Then a hand grabbed my elbow from behind.

I stomped backward on the person's foot, then spun to elbow them in the throat, and Sara yelped. “
Ow
! Ow-ow-ow!”

“And
that
,” Harry said, reaching to steady her as she hopped, “is why I never dance with Emma. Those monkey toes of hers are dangerous.”

“The ashes are
here
,” I whispered, as the spectral energy thickened in the air. “And …”

“And what?” Sara said, rubbing her foot.

I turned my back to the crowd. “Ghosts. Lots of ghosts.”

“Good ghosts?” Harry asked hopefully. “Like Casper?”

“Don't make a face,” I told them. “But they're possessed. I think, like, a quarter of the people in the room.”

So, of course, Harry loudly said, “Seriously?” and scanned the crowd.

Sara slugged him in the stomach, and as he bent over in pain, I scream-whispered into his ear. “They'll come after us if they know we know, you idiot.”

People eyed us suspiciously, and I felt a shiver of fear at the thought of Neos inside one of those bodies. What would I do if they all jumped us at once?

“There's no way you saw Matt Damon,” Harry said, even louder than before, trying to cover his mistake. “His kids aren't old enough for high school.”

“I said he
looked
like Matt Damon.”

Harry shot me a superior look. “Remember that time you thought you saw Lady Gaga, but it was only a large poodle?”

I mumbled something in reply, trying to watch the crowd and summon my powers without attracting too much notice. The possessed people stopped paying attention to us, but how long could
that
last? They must know who I was. What were they waiting for?

It didn't matter. I needed to find the ashes. I felt them nearby, but the ghostly auras of the possessed people interfered with my ability to pinpoint them. Maybe that was why Neos wanted them possessed.

I looked at the tapestries, the furniture, the hearth—and saw Coby, solidifying in the air behind Harry and Sara. The other ghosts didn't seem to notice him—just one more ghost in the crowd—but he must've been worried that if he talked to me he'd attract attention, because he just hovered over them, his face grave and eyes urgent.

I got the message. I needed to get rid of Harry and Sara before they were possessed, too.

“It's almost time for my presentation,” I said brightly. “Meet me in the classroom?”

“Math?” Harry asked, apparently still thinking I was trying to pretend everything was all right, instead of trying to get them out of there. “I want a cookie first.”

“Harry,” Sara said, through clenched teeth. “Let's go.”

She'd always seemed sensitive to ghosts, especially
Coby, and she hooked her arm through Harry's and started dragging him through the crowd.

Which was growing quieter and quieter as more people were possessed. A moment ago, a quarter of them—now, half. The dean stood slouching and sneering near the fire, a wineglass forgotten in her hand. Mr. Jones swayed in place, his eyes blank, licking his lips as two junior girls nattered at him, totally clueless.

I circled through the quieting crowd, tracking the ashes like a bloodhound after a scent. I felt the murderous attention of the people in the room on the back of my neck, and prayed that as long as I pretended I didn't know they were possessed, they wouldn't attack.

But what if they did? How was I supposed to beat back a mob? I'd only be able to dispel a few before the rest of them swarmed me. Even if I had my dagger, I wouldn't have been willing to hurt any of these people. They weren't my enemies; they were Neos's victims.

I swallowed nervously, willing myself to continue. But as we passed the room's massive fireplace, a bed of ashes and burning embers began to stir in the grate. A spectral breeze swirled as a figure took shape.

Rachel materialized in the air and looked directly at me.
You're too late, Emma
.
He has your ring. He has the ashes
.

Where are they?
I asked her.
Rachel, please help me! You're my only hope
.

The mad Ophelia expression on her face was even more pronounced than ever. Any sanity she'd shown when she'd appeared to me before was gone.
I'm sorry, Emma
.
He's the only one who can save me from eternal unrest. I know he's
…

Evil
, I said.
Is that the word you're looking for?

I love him
, she said fiercely.
No matter what he's become.

He can't save you, he can't—

He already has. Love is my afterlife, Emma
. She beamed madly at me.

You're losing your mind, Rachel. Listen to yourself. Look what you're doing—look what you've done. Neos isn't the only one who can save you
.
Tell me where the ashes are, and I'll help you. I'll end your suffering. I can do that, Rachel; I can put you to rest
.

You mean kill me
. Her eyes flashed with sudden menace.
He told me not to trust you. That you were just like your mother
.

I drew on my compelling powers—I'd
make
her tell me where the ashes were.
I'm sorry, Rachel, but—

Hands grabbed me from behind. The dean and a visiting father grabbed my left hand and Mr. Z and some senior kid grabbed my right, while someone's mother held me tight around the neck.

Rachel drifted toward the table in front of the hearth. With a sweep of her arm, she sent three arrangements of cut flowers crashing to the floor, leaving only the silk flower centerpiece.
They're right here, Emma, hidden in plain sight
. She yanked the artificial flowers from the pot, and pulled a plain cardboard box from beneath.

She raised the box of ashes and opened her mouth as if to call for Neos—and then everything happened at once.

I released a blast of dispelling energy—not just from my hands but from my whole body—that coiled into the ghosts inside the people holding me and reduced them to dust. But before I had a chance to focus on Rachel, more hands grabbed me as the crowd of possessed people surged forward in waves.

At the same time, Harry hopped the couch, snatched the box from Rachel's hand, and shouted, “Dude, you
have
no ashes.”

I had to admire Harry's bravery, thinking he was taunting Neos, given all he'd seen was a cardboard box hanging in midair. When he raced toward the door, the ghosts shrieked and surged, terrified of losing the ashes. They grabbed and tore at me; I summoned and dispelled them until one of my bio lab partners socked me in the face.

I went down hard, but still managed to summon the ghost from the kid's body. It was a leather-clad biker with a shaved head, who apparently hadn't worn his helmet, because his skull was cracked on one side. If I'd met him on a dark street after midnight, I might have been scared, but now I just zapped him with a bolt of dispelling energy and watched him crumble.

Harry sped for the exit, galloping like a gawky colt. He didn't get far before a ghost slammed into him. Not a possessed person, a disembodied ghost. The box of cardboard sailed through the air, and Harry stumbled, then stiffened. He turned toward me as the ghost filtered into his body, and an alien expression rose on his face.

Harry was possessed.

I cried out as my gaze followed the box through the air, and for a moment I felt a flash of hope. There! Sara was right in its path. But in the same moment that she caught the box, I realized she'd been possessed, too.

The ghosts recognized one of their own, and stopped worrying about the ashes. Instead, they just worried about me. As they marched toward me, I summoned a Depression-era-looking guy from Mr. Jones, a pilgrim woman from a freshman boy, and a hippie wearing serious bell-bottoms and an orange suede vest from someone's mom and melted them all into oily grease marks on the carpet. Thatcher's orientals would never be the same.