The Last Adventure of Constance Verity (11 page)

Madam Zura said, “Probably not. Most of the time, if the spirit is beyond my reach, nothing happens.”

“Most of the time?” asked Tia.

“There are accidents. When you reach into the Other Side, sometimes you end up grabbing something else. People think the Other Side of death is full of ghosts, demons, and angels. There are far worse things out there.”

“What sort of things?”

“Just things,” said Zura. “Trying to give them labels beyond that will only give you a headache. And that's not counting all the little things, the unborn spirits, the petty dead, those bitter souls caught between this world and the next, waiting for a chance to reenter ours.”

“Can you do it?” asked Connie.

“Are you sure you really want me to? The answers the dead bring are rarely to our liking. Take it from me. I do this for a living.”

“I know the rules. I don't care. I need to ask her a few questions.”

“And you're willing to pay the price?”

Connie wanted those answers, but she hesitated.

“What's the price?” asked Tia.

“I'll pay it,” said Connie.

“What price?” asked Tia again, louder this time.

“That's up to the ghost,” replied Zura. “Providing I can summon her in the first place.”

“The ghost of the person Connie killed only a few hours ago?” said Tia.

“You killed her?” Zura shook her head. “That complicates matters.”

“I didn't kill her,” said Connie. “Not directly. It was an accident.”

“In my experience, spirits tend to be touchy about those responsible for their deaths, even if those deaths are accidental.”

“I'll have to take that chance.”

“It's your chance to take. Give me a few moments to set things up.” Zura, taking the ashes with her, disappeared beyond a beaded curtain.

“I don't get it,” said Tia. “We've dealt with ghosts before. Remember those ghost cavemen? They didn't seem so tough. I think real cavemen would've been tougher.”

“There are different kinds of ghosts,” said Connie. “Every ghost you've encountered never journeyed to the Other Side. They haven't pierced the greater mysteries beyond the Veil. But when a spirit crosses over, it learns things we shouldn't know.”

“Could you be a little more vague?”

“It's vague because that's the whole point. If we knew the mysteries, if we could fathom them, then they wouldn't be mysteries.”

“This isn't like a movie where our faces will melt off for daring to transgress beyond limits, is it?” asked Tia.

“It's unlikely.”

“Unlikely but not impossible.”

“I wouldn't worry about that. It's far more probable you'll hear something that drives you steadily, irreversibly insane over the next ten or twenty years.”

“Got it. As long as I get to keep my face.”

Connie almost offered Tia a chance to sit this one out, but Tia wouldn't take her up on it. She might have been an ordinary person, but she wasn't an ordinary friend.

“Thanks,” said Connie.

“I'm here for the duration. You know that.”

“I'm not talking about this. I'm talking about everything. There were times when the thoughts of our brunches were the only thing keeping me sane while I was wrestling lions.”

“Funny,” said Tia. “I was thinking the same thing. Remember that time I was kidnapped by robots?”

“Which time? The tall, boxy ones or the squat, round ones?”

“The second,” she said. “I was going through my divorce at
the time. Felt like I'd wasted seven years of my life. Then those robots came along and tried to throw me into that volcano—”

“The boxy ones wanted to throw you in a volcano. The squat ones wanted to remove your brain.”

“Oh, yeah. It all starts blending together after a while. It's not important. Keeping my brain and not getting sacrificed to a computer god put things in perspective, made everything seem easier by comparison. Don't get me wrong; I don't want to make a habit of it. I can't do what you do. But it's a nice change of pace now and then.”

Madam Zura called them into the back. They entered the small dark room that smelled of sage and vanilla. Dozens of black and white candles lined the walls. A plastic skull sat on a round table. It was all very much what one would expect from a dedicated séance room except for the soulful music of Aretha Franklin in the background.

“Do the dead like Aretha?” asked Tia.

“No, I like Aretha,” said Zura. “The dead's taste varies. But it's my séance room, so I get to decide the playlist.” She nodded at Tia. “You're new, so I'll explain how this works. We sit at the table and join hands. You don't say anything. You might feel some tingling in your extremities, and maybe the table will levitate. Don't worry about it. Eventually, I'll reach across the Veil and contact our target. If I'm successful, an ectoplasmic manifestation will appear. Don't talk to it. Don't ask it any questions. Don't say a single word until I give the all-clear. I have to make sure I'm channeling the right spirit
and not something else. If it passes the smell test, then I'll give Connie the go-ahead to start talking. You don't say anything. Got it?”

“Keep my mouth shut. Got it.”

“And try not to look the spirit in the eye,” added Zura. “It tends to piss them off.”

“Head down. Got it.”

“No. I need you to look at it. It will only exist as long as the three of us acknowledge it. We're the doorway. If one of us closes it, the thing will either go back whence it came or end up trapped here. That can lead to all sorts of problems.”

“Look at it, but don't look too much at it,” said Tia. “Got it.”

“She's no slouch,” said Connie. “She'll do her part.”

“I'm not worried about her,” said Zura. “Are you really sure you want to do this?”

“I'm sure. Stop asking.”

Zura shrugged. “Have it your way.”

They sat at the table and linked hands. Connie and Tia sat quietly while Zura closed her eyes and concentrated. It didn't take long.

“I've got something.”

She sneezed and a globule of pinkish goo burst from her nostril. It floated over the table. The goo shifted and squirmed like the wax in a lava lamp. She belched and spat up another chunk of ectoplasm that joined the mass.

It was disgusting but necessary. Ghosts and spirits on this side of the Veil had their own residual ectoplasm to use, but
spirits on the Other Side required one to be built for them. Some things beyond the Veil had never had a form to begin with. As Zura barfed up more goop from her mouth, nose, and ears, the spirit took on the form of a malformed lump. Tia feared the worst. They had summoned something other than their target. Some dread horror that humanity was never meant to encounter brought forth to unleash madness and death.

Her face felt itchy. Whether it was a melty kind of itchy or not, she couldn't say.

The ectoplasm formed Thelma's face.

“Son of a bitch,” she said. “Not enough that you have to kill me. Now you won't even let me rest in death's sweet embrace.”

Neither Connie nor Tia said anything.

Madam Zura exhaled a final bit of magic snot. “All right. It's her. But I don't know how long I can hold her. Ask your questions.”

“I didn't kill you,” said Connie. “You killed yourself.”

Thelma's ectoplasmic face twisted in a scowl. “Maybe so, but you brought me back. For what?”

“You know why.”

“I do indeed, child, but I don't know why I should tell you anything anymore.”

“Because this is your last chance to make amends,” said Connie. “You owe me.”

“And I paid that debt with my life.”

“I didn't want your life. I wanted mine.”

Thelma bubbled as her ghostly face became a skull. “You
aren't going to like what you find if you keep on this course. The sweetest mercy I could offer you would be to leave you in the dark.”

“That's my problem,” said Connie.

Madam Zura moaned. The candles went out one by one.

Thelma howled like a banshee. The temperature dropped, and every candle went out. Her ectoplasmic face was the only thing lighting the darkness.

“Is that a yes?” asked Connie.

Thelma chuckled. “I'll give you the answer you seek, but I warn you that it will only lead to more misery. And in return for that answer, I demand that you take me with you.”

“I thought you were pissed that I was keeping you from the Other Side,” said Connie.

“This is too important to miss. I've wasted decades banished to the mortal world, and just when things are getting interesting, I'm supposed to totter off? Screw that. I want to see how things play out.”

“Can you do it?” Connie asked Madam Zura.

The medium nodded.

“Do it, then.”

Tia squeezed Connie's hand harder. Connie squeezed back even harder and shook her head.

“Spirits who seek to forestall their passing are never up to any good,” said Zura.

“Just do it,” said Connie. “Please.”

“If anyone else was asking, Constance . . .”

“I know. Thank you.”

Madam Zura broke the circle and pulled a pen from her pocket. She whispered something to the pen, and Thelma's ectoplasm popped like a bubble. The candles flashed alight again. Zura gave the pen to Connie.

“Be careful with this.”

“She's in there?” asked Tia.

“I assumed you would want something easy to carry around, and I've arranged it so you can click her quiet.”

Zura clicked the pen, and Thelma's tiny voice issued from it. “I was hoping for something more suitably mysterious.”

Connie took the pen and clicked it again. “This'll do. Thanks.”

T
helma had an answer for the pixie-dust mystery. They discussed it in Madame Zura's kitchen. She served them tea, Napoleon's favorite blend, she assured them, before excusing herself for another consultation.

“I was given the dust by a little guy,” said Thelma. “Short. Yellow. Spiky. I don't know much more than that.”

“I thought you were supposed to know unfathomable mysteries,” said Tia.

“I wasn't across the Veil that long. They don't give you the juicy stuff until you've been there a while.”

“Who is
they
?”

There was the distinct impression of Thelma's spirit smirking in her pen. “Wouldn't you like to know?”

“Did you say short, yellow, and spiky?” asked Connie.

“Yes. It's not much, I know.”

“It's something.”

“I knew you'd find it useful,” replied Thelma.

“What else do you know?” asked Tia.

“Wouldn't you like to know?”

“Are you going to keep saying that?”

“Wouldn't you—”

Connie clicked Thelma quiet.

“Is it a good idea to bring her along?” asked Tia.

“I still need her, and she's stuck in a pen. What can she do?”

“She could misdirect you, give you false information. Ghosts can still lie, can't they? How can you trust her at all?”

“I don't, but she's all I have to go on.”

“Connie, don't take this the wrong way, but this is reckless, even for you.”

“I didn't bring you along to get in my way,” said Connie.

Tia frowned. “Don't get mad at me because I'm being sensible. My role in adventures is usually to get you into trouble. I'm trying to keep you out of it for once.”

“Tia, we've come this far. We can't stop now.”

“I get that. But you can exercise some caution. I'm worried you're so focused on the goal that you're not thinking things through.”

“I never think things through. I dive in headfirst.”

“That's bull, and you know it. When I was being held prisoner by the marsupial men of Viceroy Lunacy, you didn't rush in to save me. You took the time to get backup, and it was a good thing you did. You're great at improvising and last-minute escapes, but you also know the value of being prepared.”

“I'm prepared.”

“Are you? Because it seems to me like you're rushing without
thinking this through. And don't tell me I don't have to come along if I don't like it. I'm along for the ride. I'll follow you into Hell if you think it's the right thing to do. But I'd like you to take a minute to think about it before we did.”

“Thinking about it leads to second-guessing,” said Connie.

“Maybe that's not such a bad thing. I've been thinking too, and I'm worried the only reason Thelma would agree to stick around is because something big is happening here. And the biggest thing that springs to mind immediately is your glorious death.”

Connie grumbled.

“I take it that means you've already considered that too, then?” asked Tia.

Connie shrugged. “Yes.”

“And you're still going forward with it?”

“What choice do I have? If this spell implanted in me is working, then I can't avoid it, can I?”

“That's just it. Didn't Thelma say you can avoid it if you try hard enough? Maybe you don't need to go to all this trouble. Maybe all you need to do is not rush into adventure this time.”

Thelma vibrated in Connie's pocket. She tried to ignore the ghost, but Thelma was insistent. Connie clicked the pen.

“You should listen to her,” said Thelma, “but you won't.”

“I've tried ignoring it. It doesn't work. And if does, it's still a pain in the ass. The only way to correct the problem is to get rid of the spell once and for all.”

“Any excuse to leap into the fray,” said Thelma.

“She might not be wrong,” said Tia.

“Oh, now you're on her side? I thought you didn't trust her,” said Connie.