18 - Syrsee
I missed it?
The pink-haired girl stares back at me. I remember her from that night Paul first brought me to his compound. She was his… acolyte, or something. They had some kind of relationship, I do know that. Or least an understanding. None of the other people from the compound were there, just her.
So whoever she is, she is someone .
This feeling about her place in my world is confirmed when she smiles at me. She can see me.
She’s not looking into a mirror—at least, not an upright one—because she appears to be kneeling down, gazing into something.
A pool of water, I realize. “Who are you?”
Her smile does not break. “I’m Echo. And you’re Syrsee.”
“You were there when Paul took me up to that room so they could all feed on me.”
“Well…” She shrugs and has the decency to feel a little bad about this, because she turns her head for a moment, unable to meet my gaze. “I was present in the general vicinity.” She looks back at me again, expression more stoic now that she has been called out. “But I wasn’t in the room and I had no idea what was happening.”
“Do you know what’s happening now?”
She nods, but it comes with a frown. “He used me, you know.”
“Who? Paul?”
“No. Well, maybe him too. But I’m talking about Josep.”
“Josep.” I sigh. “I don’t even know him. But he fed on me. He was there when the Darkness raped me.”
“Well, that makes sense because he is the Darkness, Syrsee. He’s pure evil and he’s infected us all.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s inside you right now. The baby inside you is the Darkness. You’re going to give birth to a thousand years of evil.”
I scoff. “Well, thanks for the encouragement.”
“But you don’t have to, ya know. It’s a choice.”
“I don’t think that would work. If only it were as easy as a trip to a clinic.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. The baby is… whatever.” She waves a hand in the air. “It’s here. You can’t get rid of it.”
“No, I didn’t figure I could.”
“But you don’t have to birth it.”
There’s an irrational flare of hope inside me because that was one of the things I had decided. This baby cannot be born. But I am cautious enough to reign that hope in and not put it on display. So I squint my eyes at her to show her I’m suspicious. “What? What are you talking about?”
She hesitates for a moment. Kind of turns her head like she’s listening for something.
I get nervous and start looking through the gold mist all around me. “Do you hear something? Is someone coming?”
She turns back to me, shaking her head. “No. I was just thinking about stasis. That’s what it’s called when you don’t birth the baby. You suspend it. Like when people freeze their heads, or whatever, after they die? You keep it inside you forever and never let it out.”
This idea is so repulsive to me, I have to force down a gag. “ What ?”
“Stasis, Syrsee. We need to get you into stasis. That way, we can fight Josep and there will be no reign of evil.”
I take a step back, letting the mist come between this girl and me. “Who the hell are you?” Because something is wrong with her, I can feel it. “ Where are you? How are you even talking to me? Why are you here?”
Again, she looks to the side, listening. And this is when I figure out what she’s doing. Someone is talking to her, telling her what to say.
I back off even further.
“Syrsee! Wait! You need to listen to me!”
But I shake my head and retreat another step. The mist is thick now, and a few moments later, she disappears.
What the fuck was that?
Stasis? Keep this baby inside me forever? I fight the gag reflex again, forcing myself to calm down.
The dreamwalk to the Guild—if that’s what it was—was enough for me to forget about the demon cooking up inside me. I was distracted. I didn’t look pregnant, didn’t feel pregnant, and all those Guild tests came back fine.
Which, I realize now, was just part of the illusion. But the illusion worked. That’s the important part here.
It has now officially worn off.
I am pregnant with some kind of demon.
But there’s more to it than that. Ryet is a demon. A full-fledged—literally fledged —demon. With wings, and blue-black skin, and claws, and fangs, and blood lust and all of it.
But this is something else .
“Paul!” I scream this into the mist. I need to find him. Not only so I can feed him, but I want answers and he’s the only one who has them. “ Paul !”
I start running through the mist, passing mirror after mirror after mirror. Dozens of them. Hundreds of them. There is no limit to the number of mirrors in this place and every time I look into one, I see the pink-haired girl.
She sees me too, because she’s yelling things. “Stop! I have a plan! I can help you! We can help each other!” It goes on and on like that as I run.
Clearly, there is no escape from this place. Not while I’m here.
I stop, close my eyes, forcing them shut as the girl screams at me from the nearest mirror.
It’s a dream, Syrsee. All you have to do is wake up. Wake up! Wake up !
But when I open my eyes, nothing has changed. So I keep running.
“Syrsee!” the pink-haired girl yells. “Please! Listen! We don’t have a lot of time. I’m in Josep’s cave. He sacrificed me to the Darkness under the compound. Then he fed me, filled my body up with his blood, and made the halfbreeds drink me until they all died. They ripped me to pieces, Syrsee.”
I stop, close my eyes again, and look at my feet. This is not real. This is not real. This is not real.
But it is. So I open them back up and just let her talk.
“I was nothing but tattered skin and broken bones, Syrsee. Then he took me back down here to the cave, put me in this water”—she points at her mirror, which really is some kind of spring—“and brought me back as something…” She shakes her head. “Well, much worse off than you, that’s for sure. Because I’m not magical, Syrsee. And if I want to win, I need magic.”
I repeat all these words over in my head, trying to force it all to make sense. “You want my magic?”
She nods. “It comes from Paul, and he gave it to you, and I need it. But we can trade. I have something to offer.”
“What do you have to offer? To put me into a perpetual state of pregnancy? Keep the evil inside me for all eternity?”
“Isn’t that better than letting it out?”
“Well…” I scoff. “From this girl’s POV, no . Not really.”
She laughs here. A tiny chuckle, but it helps. Because I let out a breath and so does she. “Trust me. I get it. I was given to the Darkness and torn to pieces. But I’m still here.” She points to the ground.
“Are you in the mist too?”
“No. I told you. I don’t have magic, Syrsee. I’m a wraith.” She looks to the side again. “Shut up, Lucia. You’re making things worse.”
“Lucia!”
“She’s here,” Echo says. “She’s telling me what to do. She doesn’t want me to tell you that because she thinks you won’t believe me if you know it’s coming from her. But please,” Echo begs with praying hands, “please give me a chance to tell you what’s happening and what we can do about it. Because Ryet is caught up in it too, ya know. He’s going to be the Darkness.”
“You just said earlier that Josep is the Darkness.”
“He is, for now. But why do you think they made Ryet?”
“So Paul could rule the world like a king?”
This throws Echo for a moment, but obviously, Lucia is filling her in because she comes back with an answer. “Paul is the enemy of the Darkness. He was made for that purpose only.” She hesitates, looking to the side again. At Lucia, I guess. Her tone changes. “ That’s his purpose ? How?” There’s a pause here, where Lucia must be talking. “No. I want to know, Lucia Who the hell is he? What the hell is going on?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I want to know too. Tell us, Lucia. Or I won’t even listen to your stupid plan.”
Echo’s head juts back as if in surprise. “No fucking way!” Then she laughs as she looks at me. “You’re not gonna believe this.”
And when she tells me, she’s right.
I don’t.
“Listen,” I tell her, “I need to go.”
“Go? Go where?”
“I… I made a promise and I need to at least try to see it through. But I’ll be back.”
Obviously, Lucia is objecting offscreen, for lack of a better word, because Echo has turned her head to the side and is listening. When she looks back at me, her words are more urgent. “There’s no time, Syrsee. They’re here. And if we don’t get a handle on this magic?—”
“We?” I ask, suddenly angry. Because I don’t even know this girl. She has no right to ask me for a favor, let alone try and guilt me into doing her one. “It’s not about ‘we,’ Echo. This is my magic and what I choose to use it on, or how I choose to use it, is none of your fucking business. I’ll be back .”
Then I turn away from all the mirrors, close my eyes, take in the mist all around me, feel the purple and the gold, and press into it.
I know it worked this time because when I open my eyes, the gold is so bright, I have to shield my eyes for a few moments.
“Syrsee?” Paul says. His voice is smooth and comforting, how I know it best.
“Paul!” I say his name with excitement, pushing my hand farther and farther away from my face until I can see him backlit against the… sun? I think? “I found you! I’m so sorry it took me so long, the mirrors were?—”
“It’s over, Syrsee. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s… just… over.”
And then, before I can even ask him what the fuck that means, I’m back where I was—trapped in the maze of mirrors—and no amount of shouting his name or pressing myself into the mist changes this.
I replay his words in my head, panicking.
I missed it?
“No!” I scream. “It’s not over! It can’t be over! I didn’t win yet! I didn’t do anything yet!”
“It’s not!”
I whirl around and find Echo staring back at me from the mist. And then I look around and realize I’m not trapped in the maze.
I’m in a cave.
“Where am I?”
Lucia steps into view, smiling at me. “Welcome to Josep’s lair, little witch. It’s not over yet. Nothing is over yet. The battle is just beginning. But his scions are awake now and they will be here soon, so let’s get to work. Where did you leave your mirror?”
For a moment I think she’s talking about the maze of mirrors I just came from, so this question doesn’t really make sense. “ What ?”
“The mirror Tristin brought you? The Coyrah mirror?”
“Oh.” I take a breath, feeling very out of sorts. “I… think it’s back at Ryet’s cabin in West Virginia? I don’t know, actually. I don’t even know if that place is real.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Lucia says. “Doesn’t need to be real. Because you’re gonna take us there in a dreamwalk.”