A Flight of Souls

I did not wish to make the same mistake as last time.

Ben

When I passed through the thick main door, to my relief, it was to see that nobody was on the other side. I moved back through it again and ushered the others to follow after me. All four of us arrived in the vast lake-filled cavern that housed the door. We dove into the water where we’d be the least visible and headed to the entrance of the tunnel on the other side.

We wound round and around the dark canal and emerged in the entrance cavern that was home to the base of the whirlpool. We kept beneath the tunnel as we scoped out the massive cave. As was to be expected, there was a crowd of ghouls guarding the base of the vortex. I cast my eyes about the shadowy crags of the walls and the large boulders lining the room. Eyeing the nearest one, I darted toward one and hid behind it. The others followed me, cautiously, slowly, one by one, and we all crouched down low among the rocks.

My eyes remained fixed on the ghouls, looking for any signs that one of them might have spotted us. Since I was unable to detect any, we appeared to have crossed the first obstacle. We were at least hidden now in this enclosure, and although we might not have any kind of plan, at least we could watch. Observe this seemingly impossible escape route.

We waited silently, staring at the swirling ceiling, not exchanging even a whisper for fear that the ghouls might hear us. Nothing happened for hours—just the ghouls milling around near the entrance, some perched on rocks. They seemed to take shifts while some swept back through the tunnel and others came out. But the watery exit was never left unguarded. I wondered why they didn’t just fix the net that Lucas had spoken of and be done with it. Ghosts could not lift off the net with their hands, and neither could they supposedly pass through it. It would save the ghouls keeping guard twenty-four seven. But maybe there were some other reasons for keeping it open that I was not aware of. Perhaps they wanted to keep it open to allow easy passage for the fae, and also their own kind returning from some grim excursion.

After several hours, a large crowd of fae emerged through the vortex, carrying white coffins which I could only assume were filled with ghosts—the new victims those false messengers had meted “justice” on and brought down to “Hell”. The sight struck me as odd. The myth that they had planted among the ghost community was that the portal light shone once every full moon. If they were trying to gather as many ghosts as possible to hand over to the ghouls, I wondered why they made this “appointment” only once every month. Perhaps, at the time they’d first spread the rumor, they had not been in such a hurry, and now that the deadline was looming—whatever that deadline was exactly—they were resorting to more desperate—and frequent—methods of snatching ghosts. Lowlifes.

The coffins crashed down to the main lake before bubbling up to the surface. The fae gathered some boats that were moored near the edge of the lake and crossed the lake, floating the coffins through the tunnel. They’d barely even glanced once at the ghouls. I estimated there were about fifty fae.

I remained staring at the dark entrance to the canal long after they disappeared into it, though they soon emerged again—without the coffins. The fae flew back to the whirlpool exit and plunged through, leaving The Underworld behind.

Everything became still again in the chamber, and almost silent, but for the eerie nattering of the ghouls above us. I drew my eyes away from the entrance of the whirlpool, which seemed so close—so torturously close—and yet so far.

Nolan raised a brow at me. “What are you thinking?” he mouthed.

How to escape this graveyard. Something staying here for hours hadn’t brought us any closer to.

I averted my eyes away from him and focused back on the ghouls. I continued to think, and think, and think… until Chantel began to fidget. To my discomfort, she began whispering to Nolan, “I think we should leave. We’ve been here long enough. What more is there to discover? We’ve already seen the entrance and know that we can’t pass through it.”

I shot a glare at her and her husband, raising a finger to my lips. I nodded toward the tunnel, indicating that they leave rather than make a noise. They got the picture, and Chantel’s lips pursed. Chantel was itching to go but Nolan wasn’t. He did, however, acquiesce to his wife’s request. He glanced at me apologetically, and the two of them slipped away from the boulders. They drifted back to the tunnel and hopefully they would make it back to our pond without being caught.

That left Kailyn and me alone, the way I preferred it. Silence engulfed us again as we continued watching the whirlpool. I wasn’t sure how much more waiting I could take, but I wasn’t ready to retreat yet. After what felt like another hour had passed, I sensed movement from the corner of my eye, to my left. Horror gripped me. My first thought was that a ghoul had spotted and crept up on us, but as I whirled around, I was met with a far more shocking sight.

My uncle, Lucas.

He was floating toward me up the narrow slope from the dip of the lake. His expression was still worn and ragged but his eyes gleamed with sentience.

“What are you doing here?” I breathed, my face contorting in confusion.

He settled himself next to me among the rocks. After glancing briefly at Kailyn—who would be an utter stranger to him—he replied, in a surprisingly steady voice, “I… I changed my mind.” His jaw was tightly clenched in a grimace as his eyes darted up toward the ghouls.

Clearly… But how? What had made him? When I’d left him in his pool, he had seemed so weak, he had hardly seemed capable of moving. For him to make it up all those levels was no mean task, especially when he had the constant fear of getting caught along the way. He’d seemed so lost, so unsure of himself. I wondered what had given him the strength—and, heck, the courage—to venture away from where he belonged.