A Flight of Souls

“How did you even know where to find us?” I whispered.

He shrugged, a tad dismissively, his cold blue eyes remaining fixed on the entrance of the whirlpool. “You mentioned that you were being kept in the upper layers… I asked around for you. When I didn’t find you in any of the ponds, I guessed that you might have come to the entrance chamber, given all your talk of escape. For this is the only exit from this place.” He glanced at me, darkness in his eyes.

Yes, I had already guessed that this was the only exit. Entering the main wooden door into the chambers of the ghouls led only one way: down, down and further down, into the bowels of their hell.

I was wary of asking any more questions of my uncle—I’d already spoken far more than I was comfortable with. Still, I couldn’t help but continue to stare at him in confusion as to this sudden change of heart. His venturing up here was why I hadn’t seen him down in his pond… Though that was some time ago now. Perhaps he’d left the pool and had been trying to find his way back up to the higher levels. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had taken him longer than Kailyn and me given the state he’d been in.

I’d thought that when I left him he would sink back into his madness, but here he was, more aware than ever. I even detected what I believed was the coldness of the old Lucas coming out; there was a slight indifference to his demeanor.

Noticing that I was still gaping at him, Lucas threw me another bone, as though he’d read my thoughts—further demonstrating his awareness. “I suppose I”—he averted his eyes to the ground—“was thinking about what you said about my son.” He paused again, as though he’d lost his voice for a moment. “If there’s even a small chance that we could find a way to escape, I’m willing to give it another try. Because… I would very much like to see my son. Even if he can’t see me.”

Derek

I did not enjoy keeping my nephew locked up in that chamber. Although admittedly it had been satisfying at first, given the havoc he’d wreaked on our island, the novelty was wearing off fast.

I continued to drop in on him for the next couple of days just in case he had a change of heart, but when he remained as clammed up as ever, it was time to set Plan B in motion.

I waited for Ibrahim to visit me that night—I had told him to check on me in case there was something that I needed. From the look on the warlock’s face as he arrived, it appeared that he had already guessed what I was about to propose.

“It’s time to bring in Herbert,” I said grimly.

“You’re sure there’s no other way?” he asked, not bothering to hide the doubt in his voice.

I nodded. “Believe me, I have tried.”

Ibrahim blew out a breath, then shrugged. “All right. When do you want to do this?”

“Tonight,” I replied without thinking. “Now.”

Ibrahim’s jaw clenched. “I’ll go get him then.”

Ibrahim vanished and I knew that he would be returning to his office, where, in the drawer of his desk, was an innocent-looking pencil case—within which was something… not so innocent.

As I’d been planning out this whole affair with Ibrahim before my turning, I’d asked the warlock if there was any way we could actually implant the truth in Jeramiah’s mind, if all else failed. Make him see it, experience it. I guessed there was no way to truly make a person accept something even with the most brutal of methods. But in implanting the facts so vividly in his mind, I would be able to walk away knowing that I had done the very best that I could to come to terms with my nephew. If he still insisted on living in his fantasy world, then good riddance to him. But while there was still room for me to strive harder, I would with all that I had.

Ibrahim and I had discussed the matter for a long time. While witches did have the power to give people visions, he said that it was nothing comparable to that of a ghoul… A rather unpleasant breed of supernatural we’d already had the misfortune of coming across. I had experienced for myself their powers of mind manipulation. To this day, I still shuddered whenever I recalled the scene I’d believed I witnessed down by the Port. Kiev and Sofia, wrapped in each other’s arms at the end of the jetty, sharing a passionate kiss beneath the moonlight. Other residents’ minds had also been messed with, including Mona’s. Mona had even gone so far as to abandon Kiev and our island because of her conviction in what she thought she’d seen. The work of that ghoul, Silas, had been mere illusions, but Ibrahim informed me that they could also inject real memories into people’s minds, as though they had lived through them themselves.

And so, as loath as I was to bring another one of those nasty creatures onto the island, it seemed that it was going to be our best option. Ibrahim offered to pay a visit to the realm of the white witches, The Sanctuary, where they were known to keep ghouls as servants. Ever since Rose had saved one of the Ageless’ sisters from the clutches of the black witches, we’d had pleasant dealings with the white witches. They were no longer the enemies they once were and I was quite sure that they would do us a favor and lend us one of their ghoul serfs.

So Ibrahim set off and returned within the day with an old, rusting pencil case. Within it was supposedly a ghoul. I was extremely leery about the box, wondering if there was any way that the ghoul could escape before it was time and start tearing through our island, but Ibrahim assured me that he had learned how to keep ghouls under control and even when out of the box, this particular ghoul was well trained. Herbert. The name conjured up the picture of an English butler in a tailcoat. I would have smirked at the irony if I’d been in a lighter mood. As soon as we were done with him, Ibrahim would return him to The Sanctuary.