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Category:
Action/Thriller
Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press
ISBN-10: 1611605865
Pages: 273
ISBN-13: 9781611605860
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
The second volume of a Young Adult urban fantasy series set in small-town Arkansas. A tale of magic and mystery.
In the thrilling sequel to Mary of the Aether, Mary Lanham finds herself under relentless assault by her enemies, the Lookers. Her powers will be tested to the breaking point, as the Lookers wage a campaign of terror in the tiny town of Chesset, Arkansas. Mary may have found a new ally in the mysterious old woman, Vera, but who is Vera and what does she really want? On top of everything, the worst person in the world is moving to town to spend the summer at Kristen’s house.
Excerpt
It was the screaming that brought the party to an end, the screaming and the blood. Nobody was having an especially good time anyway. Aunt Carole had a rolled up magazine in her hand and was using it to swat flies. Kristen, a sour look on her face, had spent much of her time pushing cake icing around her plate with the edge of a plastic fork. Aiden’s gaze was fixed way off in space somewhere. Perry possessed the only smile at the party, but he was obsessively rubbing his peach fuzz mustache with the tips of his fingers and chuckling for no reason. Mary Lanham, stick in the mud and ruiner of parties, ate her cake and tried not to let her emotions show on her face, but she had never been very good at that. It was her first birthday without Papa. Surely they all understood how hard that made it?
Humid summer heat lay on Chesset like a damp blanket, plastering hair to faces, shirts to backs. Aunt Carole’s makeup ran down her face in long, multi-colored trails. The presents had been opened, but really, what do you give a Lightbearer? Some perfume and lipstick from Kristen, who had been goading Mary into, as she put it, fancying herself up for a while now. A nice card from Aiden with a sweet little note scribbled inside, accompanied by a silver charm bracelet. And, wonder of wonders, a cell phone from Aunt Carole—Mary was the last of all her friends to get one. All of the gifts were now safely tucked back inside one of the gift bags and sat at the end of the bench. Only cake with too-soft icing and melting ice cream remained.
“Fifteen years old,” Kristen said. “Isn’t that the age that you’re officially supposed to go wild?”
“Now, let’s not even suggest it,” Aunt Carole said, fanning herself with the magazine.
And then, as if Aunt Carole’s words were the cue, the screaming began. It came from the far side of the park, a man’s voice but high and cracking. A figure stumbled out of the line of trees, hunched over, a man clutching his face. He wandered into the park, past the swing set and monkey bars, past wide-eyed children and a pair of Corgi dogs on leashes who couldn’t decide whether to bark or whimper. The man’s eyes were covered, but he stumbled right toward the picnic table, as if seeing it in his mind.
Seeing it in his mind! Such a thing was not out of the realm of possibility, Mary knew, and the power surged within her instinctively. Kristen turned on the bench, wiped the icing off her fork and brandished it like a weapon.
“He’s bleeding,” Aiden noted.
Indeed, a trail of blood seeped out from under the man’s right hand and ran down his cheek. He had on a pale blue, button-up dress shirt, but the tail was untucked, and the breast pocket was torn and hung down like a bit of rent skin. His scream became a throaty rasp, as he stumbled up to the table. Aiden and Carole both rose and moved to intercept him.
“Are you hurt, sir?” Aiden asked.
“Do we need to call for help?” Aunt Carole asked.
Even though his eyes were covered, he stepped around Aiden and walked up to the table, brushing against Kristen—she gave a look of disgust and scooted out of reach—and bumped against the corner, knocking over Mary’s drink. Fruit punch splashed in her lap.
“My eyes,” the man wailed. “My eyes!”
Aunt Carole dropped the magazine, picked up her purse and rooted around for her cell phone.
“Get him away from the table,” Kristen said. “He’s gonna bleed on everything.”
Aiden laid a hand on the man’s shoulder and tried to ease him away, but the bleeding man pulled free. He leaned over the table, his breath wheezing in and out through his clenched teeth.
“Something pecked his eyes out,” Perry suggested. Perry’s presence at the birthday party was accidental. He had spotted Aiden walking toward the park and followed him. Aiden had offered to send him away, but Mary didn’t have the heart to do that. He was one of Aiden’s old friends, part of the crew that used to sit with him in the school cafeteria, and despite a bad complexion and a high, nasally voice, he wasn’t half bad. He was, at least, clean and well mannered. “Some kind of bird in the forest pecked his eyes out!”
Aunt Carole had her cell phone open, her fingers poised on the buttons. “Sir, do you need me to call for help?”
Aiden squeezed the man’s shoulder and tried to lean in front of him, but the man only bent down lower, his face close to the table. The trail of blood had run down his chin and neck and was soaking into the collar of his shirt. And through it all, Mary sat still, tensed, aether coursing into her arms and down to her fingertips. Other people in the park began to wander over. Curiosity more than concern brought them, and nobody was moving particularly fast.
“My eyes,” the man said again.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Aiden asked.
“A bird pecked them out,” Perry said. “Look at all that blood running down!”
“Just get him away from the table,” Kristen said, still brandishing the plastic fork.
“I see red,” the man said. “I see red!” And then he rose up tall, gasped for breath and lowered his hands from his face.
There was a splatter of blood high on his cheek, just below his right eye. Kristen made a disgusted sound and turned away. Perry pointed. But Mary saw no sign of actual injury. Both eyes were fine, and she saw no cuts or scratches. Then he thrust his hand at her, and she saw the object he was holding. Indeed, as Perry had guessed, it was a bird, but dead, mutilated and bloody. Aiden saw it and cried out, snatching at his hand, trying to get it away from him.
“Get back, boy,” the man snapped, elbowing Aiden in the stomach.
Aiden lost his breath and fell back, landing in the grass.
“This is what happens to little birds,” the man said. “This is what happens.”
He tossed the dead bird onto the cake. Blood mingled with white icing.
“That’s it, I’m calling the police,” Aunt Carole said, dialing numbers.
Mary didn’t need police. She could deal with the problem herself. She reached for the man.
“Do what you want to me,” he said, spreading his arms out wide and backing out of reach. “It doesn’t matter. There will be more of us, more and more, like sand on the seashore. We’ll keep coming and coming. You’ll never be rid of us.”
Mary considered this and lowered her hand to the table. “What do you want?”
Aiden picked himself up, but he was clutching his stomach and struggling to catch his breath. Aunt Carole had the phone to her ear.
“We want to know where Leonard is,” the man said. “Leonard Watt. Where have you hidden him?”
“Leonard is gone,” Kristen replied, and jabbed the fork in his direction. “Mary turned him into a— ”
Mary shushed her. She considered this strange man, this Looker. Were they really as numerous as sand on a seashore? Surely not. She recalled another threat that had been made to her once—You will lose friends and family, you will lose everyone you’ve ever cared about. Was this the beginning of that threat’s fulfillment? Despite her growing confidence, despite her growing trust in the power that so completely filled her body, she felt a little flutter of fear.
“Leonard is gone forever,” she said. “I can’t give him back to you, if that’s what you want. Tell your friends their time is over. The time of the Lookers is over.”
“A bold claim,” the man said.
Aiden sniffed, clenched his fists and took a swing at the man, but the Looker dodged the punch and lashed out with his foot. He caught Aiden on the shin and sent him sprawling. Kristen had had enough. She lunged forward and stabbed the Looker with her fork. She hit him on the upper thigh, but the plastic tines broke off, and the fork did not penetrate. The Looker grabbed her by the forehead and shoved her back off the bench. She hit the ground with a thud and a loud curse.
Mary rose from her seat and took a step toward him.
“Go ahead,” the Looker said. “Do what you will. There are countless others waiting to take my place. Provoke the Reapers further and see if we don’t take everything from you.”
Reapers, yes, that was what they called themselves. Not Lookers. Lookers had been her Papa’s term for them, for these magic-seekers, these servants of the Devourers. And Mary did not doubt they would indeed take everything from her, if given the chance.
Aunt Carole still had the cell phone pressed to her ear, but with her free hand she picked up the uneaten slab of cake from her plate and heaved it at the Looker. It hit him right in the center of the chest, splattering icing and cake all over his shirt. He frowned, glared at her briefly, then turned back to Mary as if Aunt Carole were scarcely worth his time.
“Where is Leonard Watt?” he asked again. “And where is our master? You confronted them both at Devil’s Den, and they both disappeared.”
“Your master is dead,” Kristen shouted, picking herself up off the ground and throwing the broken fork at him.
Mary shushed her again. “I’m not going to bargain with you people,” she said. “Your time is over.”
To her surprise, this made the man smile. He had no fear. No fear whatsoever. How could that be? It reminded her of another Looker, a cold-eyed woman in a black dress--Iris, who had once intentionally goaded Mary into attacking her.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “Our time is over, indeed.”
Mary had had enough. She went for the Looker, reaching out to take hold of him. To do what, she did not know. Instinct would guide her. Aether would guide her. An old promise to herself—no more violence, only helping and healing—crossed her mind and then was gone. Intruding on her birthday party, intruding into her life, into her melancholy, no, she would not have it! The Looker saw her coming and drew back, and now a hint of fear did show on his face, if only for a moment.
“Sand on the seashore,” he said. “Reapers without end. You will return to us what is rightfully ours.”
Mary grabbed at his wrist. He twisted to one side. As he did, Aiden came at him again, swinging both hands. One fist caught the Looker in the side of the head. The Looker grunted, stumbled, then lashed out, catching Aiden by the back of the neck and shoving him violently toward Mary. Mary and Aiden collided and went down in a heap. Kristen, inspired perhaps by Aunt Carole, picked up another slab of birthday cake and heaved it at him, but she missed by a couple of feet, as it went sailing over his shoulder and landed in the grass.
The Looker laughed and turned. Curious bystanders were getting close now. Mrs. Fenster, owner of the anxious Corgis, was the closest. She had a leopard-print blouse on, lavender velvet pants, a massive necklace of some vague tribal design. With the loss of her husband only a month earlier, she had filled the void with dogs and eccentricity.
“Oh, my,” she said, gesturing toward the Looker with one ring-drenched hand. “What is going on here? What happened to you?”
His face dripped blood, the front of his shirt was splattered with icing. But he bowed politely toward Mrs. Fenster.
“Pardon me, ma’am,” he said. “I experienced a minor incident, but I’m doing much better now. I take my leave of you.”
And he took off running. Aiden tried to hop up and go after him, but he was all tangled up with Mary. They watched helplessly as the Looker dodged bystanders, raced past the swings and disappeared back into the forest. Aiden pulled his arms and legs free, helped Mary to her feet and turned, as if he meant to follow him.
“Let him go,” Mary said. “It doesn’t matter. He’s probably right. There will just be more of them.”
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