K. McEntire - Lightbringer

“I know,” the White Lady said, sadness creeping across her face. “Don’t you think I know that? But it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make—no, one I have to make. You don’t know our ways, you haven’t been trained!”

“You taught me—”

“I taught you nothing!” her mother spat. “I taught you only the basics, and that was mostly to keep you in line and safe from the Lost! You had years to go before it was your time and even then, did you honestly think it was going to be you who got picked to wake to the Sight? Please. Michelle has more of the Sight in her little finger than you do in your whole body. You didn’t even know how to ask the right questions, Wendy, not that night at the house, not ever after that. You just did whatever I said, never questioning the why of it all! That’s not how a Lightbringer works.”

Her mother slapped herself three times across the face, until the last of her stitches parted. She grabbed the flap and tore, waving the loose skin at Wendy like a banner. “And the sight of your face when I showed you my skin flap and tattoo! You just took me at face value! Never thought to question if maybe I was making the whole thing up. If I can make maggots writhe themselves out of the ground, what makes you think that a little flesh is the real thing? Pathetic. You should have known better.”

“But you never taught me—”

“My point exactly. I never taught you. If you were meant to be the next Reaper, then you would have figured it out on your own but you didn’t. You, as the Lightbringer? No, darling. No. You haven’t got the heart for it. Or the instinct.”

Stung, Wendy shook her head. “That’s not true. That first night, you said, in the hospital—”

“I said what I had to in order to shut you the hell up before you started screaming.” Her mother waved a hand at the assembled Walkers. “You think I don’t know how disgusting and foul they look? How nasty I look? I’m not blind, Winifred, nor stupid. A little girl facing one of those? Naturally she’ll tell everyone she sees. I had to shut you up.”

“That’s not true,” Wendy said, but her voice was weaker now. “You were worried about me. You love me.”

“Oh darling, of course I do! But love doesn’t matter when you’re dead, Wendy,” her mother said sweetly. “That was a fact my own mother drilled into me, and her mother before her. Do you think we’ve survived against the dead as long as we have by being sentimental? Hardly. We do what we do because we’re tough and strong. Two things you have never been.”

“I’m tough—”

“Tough?! Look at you!” she laughed. “You quit reaping the minute my body hit the ground. Refused to do your duty! Refused to reap! Your grandmother is spinning in her grave! Or she would be, if I hadn’t sent her into the Light. Kicking and screaming, as a matter of fact.”

“Mom,” Wendy moaned. “Please.”

“Moooom-puhleaze,” her mother mocked, and spat. “Listen to yourself. Weak. Pathetic. You were given a gift you didn’t earn. And now with your entire life planned out for you, a career as a Lightbringer, your duty, and a boy who loves you, still you whine! My little Wendy-girl, she has to go and mess it all up, doesn’t she? Nothing’s good enough for Wendy, oh no. Isn’t satisfied with just doing her sister’s stolen job, no, she’s got to go and reap the Lost who tore her mother apart!”

“I…I can’t…” She sniffed, trying to keep from breaking down. Her mother’s words were like hammers pounding, each blow shattering a little more of her heart apart. Wendy began to shake.

“Such theatrics, Wendy! And you haven’t even asked yet how I got put back together. Of course, it took you long enough—or, rather, I should say, Piotr long enough—to figure out what happened.”

“Mom…I—”

“Didn’t know. Yes, I sorted that part out. I assume I’d still be in tiny pieces if it had been left up to you. But there was one person who knew, one person who’d been around long enough to know a thing or two about Lightbringers.” She slapped the skin against her face and strode across the room to Piotr’s side. “Even if he doesn’t remember it.”

Piotr, horrified, shook his head frantically. “I would never help you!”

“Of course you would, Piotr,” she said, and grabbed him by the back of the neck. “You’ve helped me all along.”

Piotr screamed and his knees buckled. He fell to the ground, eyes rounded with pain, but held Wendy’s Light orb tightly tucked into his chest, unwilling to drop it. Where her hand pressed into his flesh, dark essence poured into Wendy’s mother until the skin healed, the flap clinging to the rest of her face by the thinnest threads. Wendy gaped; her mother’d drained him for essence, like Piotr would drain a Lost.

“So convenient,” she said. “He’s like a walking battery for us. Even get near him and our kind gets a boost. You get sleepy at first, but he’s like good wine. He grows better with age.”

“H-how…when…Piotr…”

“Quit stuttering, dear, it’s unbecoming.” Her mother smoothed her hair, noticeably thicker and less ragged now, and patted Piotr on the top of the head. “Poor boy has been following our family for centuries. None of us had a clue why, but he’s awfully useful to have around. Bit crazy, though.” She held up one hand to block her mouth and whispered loudly, “A few screws loose upstairs. Terrible memory problem. Of course, that’s our fault too, you know. He gives up a memory for every time one of us sucks him dry. But that’s all right, it’s what he’s here for.”

Abandoning all concern for her own well-being, Wendy darted to Piotr’s side and cradled him in her lap. His pupils expanded and contracted wildly, his legs twitched and jerked, drumming against the floor in a slipshod staccato beat.

“You can imagine my surprise,” her mother continued, stepping over Piotr and wiping fastidiously at the front of her soiled robes, “when I discovered that you’d found our little family battery pack. And my further surprise when I learned that you were kissing him.”

“Who was it?” Wendy asked bleakly. “A Walker? One of the Riders? Who is your little stooge, Mom? Who’s been your marvelous spy?”

A warm, furry body pressed against Wendy’s side as Jabberwocky pushed past Wendy and trotted across the room to twine around her mother’s ankles.

“I told you, dear,” her mother said, scooping Jabber up and rubbing her chin against the ghost kitty’s head. “I’ve been watching you quite closely. Hello, darling. Did you miss me?” She made kiss-kiss faces at Jabber before setting him down. The cat vanished into the darkness gathering at the edge of the room.

Wendy blinked. Darkness? Her head felt woozy suddenly, and weary. Spots danced before her eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear, that’s just the blood loss,” her mother said. “Time passes differently here, when you’re fully in the Never, in a place as strongly bound with emotion as this hotel. You’ve only been dying a few living seconds, but you’ll finish bleeding out soon, I promise.” She tsked. “Though if you want to catch your Light, I suggest you hurry. It’s looking a little weak around the edges.”

Wendy glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. “What’s the point? I came to get you and Eddie. You’ve gone off the deep end, what’s to say Eddie hasn’t, too?”

Her mother burst into merry laughter, wrapping her arms around her waist and rocking back and forth on her heels with mirth. “Oh Wendy, you are a peach! You think I had anything at all to do with Eddie? What kind of a monster do you take me for?”

“You…you didn’t?”

“Of course not, dear. Our job is taking souls once they’ve crossed, not making them cross. Other ghosts can interact with the living world, but you were right all along—I’m not one of them. I was lying to you. The only souls I can bother are people like us, Seers or people with one foot in the grave already. Oh no, dear, a little bird came and whispered about Eddie’s condition to me. I just took advantage of it.”