Alyson Noël - Shimmer

The ground shook, the wind howled, and a steaming hot blaze flared and burned all around, and less than a second later, Rebecca and her Hell Beast were gone.

I will never forget the sound of it.

For as long as I continue to exist, I know for a fact that that sound will exist right along with me.

I mean, how do you get past the shriek of hundreds of souls screaming in agony?

How can you possibly get over something like that?

Just because they were no longer encased in real, physical, flesh-and-blood bodies—just because they were no longer in possession of a beating heart and central nervous system—didn’t mean they were aware of that.

Rebecca ruled their perception in a way that made all of their mental and physical agonies seem all too real, just as she continued to rule our reality too.

The gale raged around us, whipping my hair into a frenzy, causing it to lash hard against my face, leaving me with no choice but to duck my head low, squint my eyes tightly, and yell into the howl of the wind. My voice rough, hoarse, as I struggled to be heard over the blare, warning Bodhi and Buttercup to concentrate, to locate the small gap of silence in their own heads, reminding them as well as myself that it was the only way to keep us from sinking even deeper into Rebecca’s hell.

Yet, despite all of that, despite the fact that we all knew better, it was pretty rough going for each of us. It was one thing to know we were playing into the false reality of Rebecca’s world—quite another to spare ourselves from it.

I manifested a leash for Buttercup, something he usually hates, but at that moment he was all too willing to be anchored to me, and we clung to each other, making our way between souls, our bodies getting battered and buffeted as we desperately searched for the prince. But there was so much wind and smoke and debris, so many traumatized souls, it was impossible to see his.

“We have to split up.” Bodhi grasped my arm and shouted into my ear. “I know you don’t want to, but trust me, it’s the only way. We have to free these souls one by one. If we stay like this and do nothing, we’ll never get anywhere. We’ll just get sucked into the vortex of extreme suffering, along with the rest of them.”

I looked at him, not at all sure if I was really up for the task. Even though I felt like I knew the territory, possibly better than him, there was still a small part of me that didn’t trust myself.

There was still a small part of me that didn’t quite believe I could actually, effectively accomplish all that.

I was barely handling myself with them, so how could I possibly maintain my concentration and focus without them?

I mean, it’s one thing to talk the talk—it’s quite another to actually walk it.

And as far as I and focusing went, well, let’s just say we were like two distant cousins who’d rarely met.

But Bodhi, sensing, if not hearing, my hesitation, along with every worried thought in my head, looked at me and said, “You can do it, Riley. You’re going to be fine. Heck, you helped me, didn’t you?”

I nodded. That much was true, though the reminder didn’t do much to ease my own nagging doubt.

“And what about Buttercup? Where would he be right now if it wasn’t for you?”

I gazed down at my dog who was gazing up at me, and I couldn’t help but hope he couldn’t hear my thoughts just like I couldn’t hear his. I didn’t want him to know what a big wimp I’d become.

I wrapped my arms around my waist and bent my head low, my hair whipping all around me, getting thrashed pretty good, as I danced around on my tippy toes to keep my feet from being burned.

Some apprentice I was turning out to be—I couldn’t even concentrate my way past Rebecca’s manifested weather storm.

I’d barged my way in here without ever once stopping to consider just what I might be getting myself into, only to flip out and lose all my nerve at the exact moment it truly began to matter.

It was like gazing into a mirror and seeing the absolute very worst version of me.

But then again, I was only twelve.

Eternally stuck at twelve.

And with that in mind, how much could really be expected of me?

It’s not like being dead made me any wiser than I’d been when I was alive.

It’s not like being dead made me any more mature, or instilled any more confidence or strength in me than I’d had on my very last day on the earth plane.

I mean, maybe if I’d been allowed to make it to thirteen, I’d be grown-up enough to face something like this. But as it was, thirteen, and all that it promised, was never going to happen for me, so why should I be expected to deal with something as big as all this?

But just after I’d finished the thought, Bodhi tugged hard on my sleeve and said, “You’re wrong.”

I raised my head slightly and peered at him through my tangled up bangs.

“You can concentrate and focus, you’ve already proved that.”

I swallowed hard. Even though my body no longer made saliva that I could actually swallow, I did it anyway. Old habits really do die hard, it seems.

“Not to mention the fact that you don’t know squat about the Here & Now.”

He had my full attention.

“You have no idea how it works, do you?” Bodhi asked.

My eyes locked on his.

“No one is ever stuck anywhere, Riley. Seriously, what kind of a place do you think it is?”

I looked at him, because to be honest, I really wasn’t sure. At that point, I still had a whole lot of questions as to how it all worked.

He ducked his head lower and clenched that green straw between his teeth as he said, “Then again, I guess now you’ll never find out just what you’re truly capable of over there. You know, since you’re choosing to be stuck here instead.”

I gaped, at first unable to utter the words, though it wasn’t long before I said, “You mean, I can … I can, maybe … actually … turn thirteen someday ?” I pressed my lips together, sure it was too good to be true.

But Bodhi just quirked his brow and shrugged in a vague, noncommittal kind of way. “There’re no limits that I’m aware of—pretty much anything is possible there. But, the sad part is you’ll never even get close if you can’t find your way out of here.”

I stared down at my toes, my dancing scorched toes. Hearing his voice in my head urging, “ Concentrate. Focus . See the true reality of this place, not the one Rebecca wants you to see.”

So I did.

And it wasn’t long before the wind stopped, the fire extinguished, the ground went still, and my toes cooled, though my hair still looked like a fright wig.

“You can deal with that later.” Bodhi laughed, chucking me under my chin. “But first, we have some souls to release.”

Buttercup and I went one way, while Bodhi went another. Each of us approaching the nearest, suffering soul, taking hold of their hand, and immersing ourselves in their world of pain until we could introduce that small space of silence that guided them out of their hell.

And if you think that sounds simple, if you think that sounds easy-peasy, well, let me tell you: It isn’t.

Not even close.

The truth is, we were subjected to some pretty dark things—along with some pretty scary things, and some pretty horrific things, and some pretty sad things. And I’ll speak for myself when I say I personally witnessed the kind of suffering I never could’ve imagined, never wanted to imagine, before.

I felt the crack of the whip against my bare back that caused my skin to break open and ooze.