The Afterlife Academy (10 page)

L
ater that night, when everyone else in the apartment had fallen asleep, Charlie tiptoed down the hallway and slid into the study. Immediately, the squadron of birds erupted.

“Shut them up, man!” Walter ordered.

Charlie quickly divvied out heaping handfuls of bird feed into each of the cages. The birds fell quiet, except for an occasional chirp as they ate.

“Why not a hamster or something awesome like a snake?” Walter asked. “Those dumb birds would drive me crazy.”

Charlie didn't respond, but went to work scanning several pages of the book onto the computer. Within a few minutes, he'd successfully uploaded them onto SpiritSpy.org. After adding labels and posting a series of questions, Charlie sat back and waited for the answers to come.

The first few comments arrived from unknown sources and provided zero help.

who's the author
?
one of them asked.

“Duh, it's written in gibberish, moron!” Walter laughed.

that's obviously spanish,
said another.

“You're obviously an idiot,” Walter fired back.

Charlie swatted a hand at his ear. “Stop making fun of them. They're trying to help.”

Suddenly, a private message popped up.

Looks like Shadow Speech to me. Is this from that book you found? How high are your EMF readings?

“Look who it's from!” Charlie practically squealed, then reread the message. “Shadow Speech?”

“Heard of it before?” Walter asked.

Charlie typed a response.

What sorts of books contain Shadow Speech?

The answer came after a few seconds.

Demonic books. Likely you've found an old tome containing instructions for warding off demons.

“This guy's weird,” Walter muttered. “I don't like how he talks.”

“He's typing. And don't call him weird. I've read everything he's ever written. The man's a genius! His reputation is worldwide.” Charlie had in fact read almost every article he had written and patterned his own research style after Wisdom's.

Would those types of books draw the interest of demons and dark spirits?
Charlie asked.

If by “draw interest” you mean “entice”—no, I don't think so. You're probably safe. Spirits from the Underworld rarely make a fuss over books.

“Well, that doesn't help us,” Walter said.

Charlie held up his finger for silence as the stranger on the computer added another message.

The only instances I know in which demons are enticed by literature are when people have stumbled across the most famous Shadow Speech book of all. Which is, of course,
The Summoner's Handbook.
So don't worry.

Charlie looked up from the computer and spun around, staring at the book on the desk.
The Summoner's Handbook.

“Which is…,” Walter probed.

“The book all dark creatures want. It basically holds the secrets of how to create doorways they can use to enter our world.”

“That's stupid,” Walter said. “That demon we saw the other day was already in our world. It didn't need a book.”

Charlie shook his head. “Typically, demons are invisible to human eyes. Most people don't even know they exist. They're strong in their own realms, but when they come here, they can't do much. They're not that powerful.”

“Not powerful? That thing was burning me!”

“You have to be made up of something the demon can touch. I didn't feel much even when it put its hands in my chest. But by opening a gateway, demons can enter our world and walk around like they belong here. Imagine what that demon could have done if it had been running at a hundred percent.
The Summoner's Handbook
would make that possible.”

“Do you really think that's
The Summoner's Handbook
?”

Charlie reached over to touch it, but stopped before his fingers grazed the cover. “Maybe.”

“And it just so happens, the most dangerous book in the world has been buried all this time in a hole behind a shopping mall?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous. But this book contains Shadow Speech. And things have been trying to attack us to get at it.”

“How can we know for sure?”

Charlie dropped his hands and typed a message to Wisdom Willows.

How would I know if I've found
The Summoner's Handbook
?

You haven't. Trust me,
Wisdom answered.

But how would I know?
Charlie jabbed back.

Two minutes passed before a long answer appeared.

You have to be careful. Don't go trying to recite any passages out loud. Shadow Speech books have a decoder page at the back, so I've heard, that contains characters much smaller than the rest of the writing. Stare at these words for three minutes, and you will be able to read them. Then you will understand the book in its entirety. If it is indeed
The Summoner's Handbook,
you'll know by the author's name on the cover. Igor Yad. He wrote only one book. Let me know what happens.

Walter whistled.

Charlie slumped in his chair. “Should I do it?”

“What could it hurt?”

“What if something happens like before? What if that creepy woman spirit—er, the banshee—shows up and tries to grab me again?”

“I'll yell the secret word, and then you'll know to stop reading,” Walter said.

“What's the secret word?”

“Idiot! Stop reading!” Walter answered.

Charlie smiled and turned the book to the back page. Goose bumps rose on his arms as he saw much smaller characters. He became completely still as he stared at the pages. After several minutes of focusing, a slight tremor shook his hands. The written characters on the paper began to shift into different positions. Charlie froze and watched as the once-unrecognizable marks stretched and formed words he could clearly read.

“Y
ou all right?” Walter asked, but Charlie made no answer. “Grunt if you can hear me,” he ordered.

Charlie grunted.

“Good. Can you read anything yet? Grunt once for no, twice for yes.”

Charlie grunted twice.

“Oh boy.”

Charlie slowly closed the book and stared down at the cover. His breathing sped up.

“Can you read that, too?” Walter asked.

Charlie grunted twice again.

“Stop grunting. You don't have to grunt anymore. Just answer me!”

“Yes, I can read it.”

“And?”

“Igor Yad,” Charlie answered.

“No way!”

“Can
you
read it?” Charlie asked.

“No. Nothing happened when I stared at that page.”

“Maybe it's because you're dead,” Charlie reasoned. He reopened the book and glanced at the pages. Eerie hand-drawn images now appeared as he riffled through. Images that hadn't been there the other times he'd looked at it. Each of the pages contained spells or instructions on how to perform some sort of demonic ritual.

“What's it say? No, wait, don't tell me!” The air in the room grew thick and stagnant. The birds stopped eating, but they made no noise other than the light fluttering of their wings.

“Walter,” Charlie whispered. “I'm scared.”

“Me too. Let's figure out how to get rid of this.”

Charlie returned his fingers to the keyboard.

“You really don't think he waited around, do you?” Walter asked.

Charlie shrugged and typed a short phrase.

You still there?

Yes,
Wisdom Willows answered almost immediately.
What did you find out?

Charlie typed a one-word response.

Bingo.

You're sure it's
The Summoner's Handbook
?
Wisdom asked.

It's written by Igor Yad.

This is huge,
Wisdom responded after a second's pause.
That is a dangerous book. You can't keep it.

Should I bury it back in the hole where I found it?

No. Don't do that. It's not that simple,
Wisdom typed.
Burying the book in the hole won't be sufficient. Someone will just find it again. Maybe we should meet up somewhere. I'd be willing to pay for travel expenses just to take a look for myself. Where do you live?

“Excellent!” Charlie rubbed his hands together. “I can't believe Wisdom Willows is going to help us!” He reached down for the keys, but Walter raised his voice.

“Don't tell him where you live! What if he's some sort of psycho?”

Charlie laughed. “He's not a psycho!”

“Charlie, listen to me. Giving out your address is a big no-no. Remember Stranger Danger from, like, the first grade?”

But Charlie had already typed a brief message stating his home address. He was about to click the mouse to send when his hand suddenly shot out and knocked both the mouse and the keyboard off the desktop. Charlie looked around to see who had done that. His jaw dropped in shock.

“Plenty more where that came from,” Walter said, sounding like a cowboy. “Next time you don't listen to me, I'll crack you upside the head with the monitor!”

Charlie closed his mouth and picked up the keyboard. “I'm sorry, you're right. I got excited. What am I supposed to tell him?”

He didn't have to type anything.

Another message blipped on the screen.

Maybe that's a bad idea. Don't tell me your address. I hope I didn't freak you out. Sorry I asked.

“Ask him where the book came from,” Walter demanded.

Charlie typed his question, and Wisdom responded immediately.

The original
Summoner's Handbook
was written over a thousand years ago in Romania. It is believed that Igor Yad, a known demonic sorcerer, developed a unique and previously unheard-of relationship with a banshee.

“Wahoo! I told you banshees existed,” Walter erupted.

“You were right. So what? It doesn't mean you know more than me.”

“I didn't say that.”

But Charlie knew what Walter was thinking.

Wisdom's message continued.

With the help of the banshee, Yad compiled every known summoning incantation, including the Gateway spell, within the book's pages. Centuries of unrecorded wars broke out over the book until it finally vanished from existence in the year 1817. Charlie, if you have indeed discovered
The Summoner's Handbook,
you have found one of the most sought-after treasures in existence.

“Eighteen seventeen?” Walter said. “How old is the mall?”

“It wasn't in the mall.” Charlie scoffed. “It was buried next to it.”

What do I do now?
Charlie typed.

Give me some time to research it. I'll check back in with you in the next day or two.

“We've got to think about our next step,” Walter said a few minutes later as Charlie crawled under the covers of his bed. “Don't read any more out of the book, and keep it hidden.”

“Stop talking like I don't know what I'm doing,” Charlie said, annoyed. “I've been involved in paranormal research for most of my life, and I'm not stupid.”

From outside the bedroom window, something screamed.

Charlie shot up and kicked the sheets completely off the bed. “Did you hear that?”

Walter groaned. “Yes. Please tell me that was just one of your birds.”

Inching toward the window, Charlie peeked through one of the slats of his blinds. A shadowy figure stood below, on the street. Its red robes flickered behind it in the breeze like tendrils of smoke. Dangling on each side were long claws scraping against the asphalt.

“It's a wraith!” Charlie whimpered.

The wraith didn't move much, only hovering in the air a couple of feet off the ground. But there was no mistaking where it was staring. Charlie took a deep breath and released it slowly through his nostrils. “It's okay. Wraiths are very dangerous out in the open, and they've been known to physically attack humans in certain conditions, but they can't pass through doors or windows. We should be safe in here.”

One of the wraith's claws pointed toward the window, beckoning Charlie to come down with a rhythmic flick of its finger.

“It can't come in here,” Charlie said again, closing the blinds and backing away slowly.

“Fine. Then I guess we'll just hang out in your apartment for the rest of your life?”

Charlie shook his head. “No, it'll be gone by morning. Wraiths can't tolerate the sunlight.”

“You know way too much about these things,” Walter muttered.

“Yeah, but it sure is coming in handy, since you don't know anything. What kind of guardian angel
are
you?” Charlie climbed into bed and burrowed down deep under his sheets.

“For the last time, I'm a Guardian
Agent,
” Walter corrected him.

Charlie covered his eyes with his forearm and sighed. Everything he had studied was real. His parents had never believed him. They wanted him to stop fooling around with nonsense and grow up. Boy, had they been wrong. In a matter of a few days, the world as Charlie knew it had changed. In a way, he was excited, but it also meant the world was no longer a safe place to live.