The Wishing Game

Chapter 10

TEN

T hey squabble for a few more seconds before they dutifully follow me to the platform. The train is set to arrive in a couple of minutes, time I decide to spend by laying down some ground rules.

"Here's how this is going to work. You may be non-human or whatever you are, but we're officially a team, which means that what you do reflects on me, and what I do reflects on you."

"I know that," Thea starts to protest, but I put a hand up, stopping her.

"I'm betting everything on this game, and I'm not going to lose. That means you two need to cut it out and behave. Don't draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Don't steal from people and don't destroy public property. Is that clear?"

They both stare at me as if I've grown two heads.

"You're rather confident for someone who didn't even know what the game was about a few hours ago," Thea huffs aloud.

"Maybe." I shrug. "But I know what I want. It doesn't matter what I have to do to get it."

"So now you believe the underworld is real." She smiles.

"Is it, is it not? I don't really care. As long as there's a chance for me to get my husband back, I'm going to take it—be it real or imaginative."

Thea nods slowly as she regards me.

"Fine. But I'm not the only one who has to behave," she says as she narrows her eyes at her brother.

Cer grunts, but he doesn't give any verbal assurance.

"Good. And since you're not familiar with how things work around here, please ask before you do something."

The train arrives, and we step inside. At this hour, it's mostly empty, so Thea and I grab a seat while Cer positions himself in front of us, his feet spread apart, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Uh, Luce?" Thea leans in to whisper.

"Yes?"

"I think I sat on something wet." She wrinkles her nose. "It smells."

"Just ignore it. It's only one stop."

She blinks.

"But it's really wet and smelly, Luce," she whines.

I sigh.

"We can change seats," I offer.

She nods fervently, getting up for the exchange. As she turns, however, I note why she was so wet. There's a yellowy-brownish wet stain on her pants, and as soon as she turns to me, the putrid smell wafts to my nose, intoxicating me. I'm sure I can see some bits of food, too.

"Uhm." I clear my throat. "I think we should just stand."

Cer, however, takes one look at Thea and bursts into laughter. She frowns in confusion until she makes the mistake of brushing her hand against her ass, the foul substance sticking to her fingers.

It takes a whole of two seconds before it dawns on her what she sat on. Her mouth opens and a shrill scream resounds in the entire train. Luckily, just at that moment, the doors open, and she dashes out of the train, still screaming into the night.

Cer is still furtively chuckling, and I look at him suspiciously.

"You knew," I note quietly.

He pins me with his gaze, his lips quirking up just as he angles his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

"I don't know what it is with the two of you, but you need to stop taunting each other," I say in exasperation.

He doesn't answer, simply stepping out of the train. I trail behind, wondering where Thea could have gone.

We get out of the station and still there's no sign of her.

"Don't worry. She'll find us. Eventually ." He smirks.

Taking out the phone, I choose our location as a starting point so the GPS can give us a route to the theater.

"Okay, this way." I point ahead.

Despite being well after midnight, the area is bustling with tourists. Lights flash from the huge advertisements placed on every building, and for a moment, I just take a deep breath, absorbing everything.

It's not a dream. This is actually real. I may have a chance to get Nikki back.

It might be jarring that I've suddenly been thrust into this foreign world, but from the moment I was born, I've done nothing else but make do with the information I was given.

At sixteen, I found out there were no ancient gods and that there was freedom in the world—of thought, of speech, of being whoever I wanted to be.

At nineteen, I experienced that world for myself, savoring every moment of happiness after being deprived of it for so long.

Now, at twenty-four, I find out that gods do exist, as do other creatures. I find out that the world is much vaster than I'd ever thought possible. But somehow, it's the knowledge of that infinity that helps me digest this new information. Just because I don't know something, that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I've been proven that time and time again.

My lips tremble with optimism as hope blossoms within me.

Nothing is impossible. Just like nothing will stop me from achieving that impossible.

Wait for me, Nikki. We'll meet again.

Cer clears his throat and I give him a tentative smile.

"Sorry," I mumble. I turn the GPS compass right and left as I try to make sense of the orientation. When I finally get it right, I nod to the building a few feet from us.

"This is it," I say as I stop in front of a flashy building. "Doesn't seem very haunted, does it?"

"Things are rarely as they seem," Cer grunts, taking a step forward as he studies the facade of the building. A billboard runs over the top part of the entrance, the banner highlighting the current show being played at the theatre. The entrance leads right into the middle of the busy street, and that might pose a problem if we're to break in.

Break in?

My mouth parts in a silent O as it dawns on me that if I want to win this game, I need to get rid of my previous sensibilities.

"There you are, guys," Thea exclaims.

We both turn to see her running toward us in a zig-zag pattern to avoid the tourists meandering about. She's dressed in a knee-length pink dress that's covered in glittery feathers, and to complete her look, she also added a sparkly pink headband and equally sparkly pink heels. Paired with her rich red hair, she looks as if she stepped out of one of those billboards.

Yet as she comes closer, I note that she can barely walk in those heels, bouncing from side to side as she tries to maintain her equilibrium. All the while, the smile has never left her face—until she sees her brother's expression, that is.

"What are you wearing, Thea?" He pinches the bridge of his nose as he takes her in.

"I think the most important question is—where did you get this?" I ask as she reaches our side. "All the stores are closed."

"Oh, that." She licks her lips. But whatever answer she was about to concoct is useless as I pluck the tag from the dress—still attached to it.

"Did you break into a store to steal these?"

"What? Of course not. I, uhm, I?—"

"Couldn't you have at least stolen something less...conspicuous?" I close my eyes with a sigh.

"But it's pretty," she whispers. "And pink. Your world has such fun colors and clothes."

That gives me pause.

"And yours doesn't?" I frown.

She shakes her head.

"It's all boring and conservative and agh." She stomps her foot—a little too hard, because her heel breaks.

That attracts the attention of the people around, who stop to stare at her, which is enough for Cer to intervene and put himself in front of her. But just as I think he's going to chastise her some more, he goes down on one knee, grabbing her other foot and breaking that heel as well so Thea can walk properly.

"Okay, now that we've found the location, we should make a plan of action."

"What plan? We just go in and spook that spirit into going to P'asala and be done with it. How long can it take, a few minutes?" Thea says casually.

"P'asala? What is that?" I frown.

Cer and Thea share a look. Thea releases a sigh.

"Remember the bridge on the screen? That is B'Isalat. It's the place all souls go after they depart this world."

My brows shoot up in curiosity.

"And where does it lead?"

"It all depends on the quality of deeds performed during their lifetime."

"That's enough, Thea," Cer intervenes, raising a brow at her. She rolls her eyes but complies.

"Right," I add drily. They are likely wary to share too much information with a human . "We should devise a plan."

"Why don't we just—" Thea starts again, but her brother stops her.

"The first trial ends in a week. That means it will likely not be as easy as spooking the spirit into crossing over." He gives his sister a look. "I think we should scout the location first and see what type of spirit we're dealing with. After we find out who the spirit was, we'll research the history and find its motivation for staying behind. As long as we're methodical about it, we should finish the task with ease."

"That's a good idea," I say, surprised at his insight—and the fact that he said more than a few words for the first time. "One thing to bear in mind, though," I note as I point to our surroundings. "This is too public to simply break inside. We'll have to scout the location during operating hours."

Cer nods pensively.

"Why?" Thea pouts.

"In this world, there are rules and the body that enforces those rules is the police. If we break in, steal , or destroy public property, we'll get in trouble."

"We have such a body in our world, too," Cer notes. "But that doesn't mean some obey it." The jibe is clearly meant at his sister, who shrugs.

"Not my fault that you're all so boring. Live a little, big bro."

He narrows his eyes at her.

"Okay, what did I say about behaving? Please stop baiting your brother." I point at Thea. "And you." I turn to Cer. "Stop glaring at your sister."

Silence descends as he glares at her some more and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Good Lord, maybe I should have chosen a different team...

"You're no fun, Luce." Thea sighs. "This is the adventure of a lifetime. Take a risk. Or two. Or maybe more." She giggles.

"There is such a thing as calculated risks," I grumble. "Given what is at stake, I prefer to be more judicious with my decisions."

"B-o-r-i-n-g," she mouths.

"As I was saying." I clear my throat. "We should come back tomorrow during open hours. We can meet here at noon."

"Meet here? Where are we going?"

"I don't know where you're going. But I'll be heading over to my friend's place." Hopefully, it's not too late for me to make my appearance at the warehouse.

"You can't," Thea bursts out.

Both Cer and I look at her curiously.

"That is to say, it's not safe. This is a competition and others will want to defeat us. That means we need to stick together."

I frown at her explanation.

"You have guesthouses, no? We can check into one and stay there for the duration of our mission," she adds, quite pleased with herself.

"You mean a hotel?" I ask, intuiting what she's referring to. It's clear both are not very familiar with how this world works, but they seem to have at least some equivalents in their world—wherever that is. As that thought arises, I decide to carefully probe more in the coming days to arm myself with more knowledge.

"Yes, that. I saw quite a few on my way back."

"There's only one issue. You have no money. I have maybe ten dollars left. We can't afford a hotel."

"Pfft, leave that up to me," Thea declares.

Not even ten minutes later and we find ourselves in the lobby of a very expensive-looking hotel. Thea says something in a low voice to the woman at the front desk, and in a matter of seconds, she's offered the key to an apartment—their most deluxe apartment.

"How did you do that?" I ask as we all cram into the elevator to head to the tenth floor.

"I can be very charming." She winks at me.

The apartment has two bedrooms, one for me and one for the siblings. Maybe I should have offered to room with Thea considering how much they squabble, but I'm too tired and Thea has too much energy. If I'm to rest tonight and regain my strength, I can't have her hop around and talk incessantly—regardless of how endearing she might be while doing so.

After we've divided the rooms, we say good night and agree to reconvene in the morning.

As I enter my room for the night, I'm surprised by how luxurious it is. Thea's charm must be quite potent for her to be able to get this apartment with no money. It makes me wonder about the extent of her powers. I'm not entirely sure what being a harpy entails besides those sharp nails she displayed on occasion, but maybe it includes some hypnotic abilities.

Everything is possible at this point. I don't think I would be surprised at anything anymore.

Releasing a weary sigh, I go to the bathroom, once more surprised by the luxurious amenities. There's a waterfall-style shower that could accommodate half a dozen people. I glance longingly at it. I'm so tired, but I also feel dirty considering how much I've been running around. The dip in the well notwithstanding, I truly need a shower.

Before my eyes can become more sluggish, I shrug off the straps of my dress, shimmying it down my body until it lands at my feet. Stepping out of it, I enter the shower stall, pursing my lips as I get acquainted with the controls.

Once I figure out the settings, I turn on steaming hot water, letting it drape over my body just as steam envelops the entire stall, the glass panels fogging. Warmth caresses my skin, a change from the coldness that's made its way into my bones. Maybe it's the hot water, or maybe it's my newfound optimism. All I know is that the beats of my heart align with the drops of water dripping onto my body before sliding to the floor. The anguish that had previously consumed me melts away as I envision a new future—one where my husband is beside me.

Turning to face the jet of water, I close my eyes as I shift reality in my mind. Stepping back, I feel a block of hard muscle meet my back, his body molding to mine.

Hands caress my rib cage, big palms splayed over my stomach as he draws me closer. The harsh pads of his fingers scrape against the softness of my skin, his nails digging into my flesh.

My breath hitches in my throat as I lean into him, throwing my head back as his searching lips meet the side of my neck, sucking, nibbling, licking.

He cocoons my weary body, laying siege to my mind as he makes me lose myself to the euphoria of those sweet kisses.

The water turns scorching hot, leaving behind red angry trails on my skin, but the pain is but a pulsing sensation, eclipsed by the urgency of his touch.

I pant low in my throat, pushing myself into him, only to lose my balance as I belatedly realize there's no one there with me. It's just me and this aching emptiness in my heart.

The water sprays onto my face as I find myself immobile on the shower floor, my feet spread apart, my gaze fixed on a nonexistent spot.

From a welcoming heat, it becomes an unbearable inferno as panic strikes in my breast, causing my heart to erupt into an unsteady rhythm. Dragging myself on my knees, I reach the controls of the shower after what feels like an eternity, turning the water off and taking a deep, anxious breath into my lungs.

"Soon," I whisper to myself.

I take a moment to settle my nerves before I turn on the water again, this time washing my body thoroughly. As my hands move around the planes of my chest, my eyes widen in surprise when I can't feel any of the old scars or indentations.

For as long as I can remember, my body has been a mosaic of scars, some gotten through beatings and abuse, others through the backbreaking labor I was subjected to.

My fingers trail up my shoulder, feeling for the small pucker of skin that had formed after my gunshot wound had healed five years ago. The skin is smooth and blemish-free.

I search lower on my back for the lashings I'd gotten when I disobeyed the orders of the master of the house, but even those have disappeared—as if they'd never been there in the first place.

Had that ambrosia-infused drink healed all of this? Had it erased even my deepest scars?

Does that mean that my marks...?

Quickly rinsing myself, I turn off the shower and step out. I plant myself firmly in front of the mirror, almost afraid to gaze at my new self but excited to see those marks removed nonetheless.

I wipe the steam off the mirror and slowly regard myself, a crushing disappointment settling in my chest as I spot the black lines staining my skin.

All other scars are absent.

All but the worst of them—these marks that have been the bane of my existence since the day I'd gotten them when I was sixteen and about to become the mistress of El Senor of the hacienda. In a bout of madness, I'd fought back, preferring death over having my body violated in that manner. Against all odds, I'd survived. But for my rebellion, I'd been marked for life.

Outcast. Pariah. Cursed.

Although I'd been saved from that ignominy, I'd been sentenced to a life of servitude and perpetual labor.

"You should never be ashamed of these, Luce," Nikki would tell me whenever I became hung up on them. "They're not a punishment. They're a mark of bravery. You fought and you won."

I would smile at him and nod, the rational part of me understanding his reasoning, but the other side of me, the hurt and belittled one, saw it as a way for El Senor to control me for the entirety of my life. The marks weren't ephemeral like an action or a word. They were always there, etched into my skin, proof of my lack of agency.

I release a shaky breath, my lashes misted with tears.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror for what feels like an eternity, my mind going in circles as I try to decipher why all of my other scars and injuries went away but these marks remained.

Could it be that Sergio truly had connections to the divine? Is that why these won't go away? Because they're not seared in my flesh, but in my soul?

The thought makes my legs tremble, and I grasp onto the sink to keep myself from falling.

He's taken so much from me already...to take even more?

Pain stabs in my chest as I choke a sob.

" Maldito perro ," I rasp, my voice thick and filled with pain. " ?Espero que te pudras en el infierno! "

Too bad he died before I could take all my frustrations out on him. If there's one regret I have, it's that I wasn't there to see him suffer as he drew his last breath. That will forever haunt me as my hatred for him grows instead of abating.

I trail a finger down my naked body, following the sinuous curves of the black markings etched on my flesh. A shiver goes down my back just as a gust of wind blows in my direction.

My head snaps to the side, but the bathroom door is closed. No window in sight.

I blink, my breathing becoming more erratic.

It's just my imagination.

Turning, I note the mirror is once more fogged up. My brows bunch together in a frown as I take a towel and wipe it again. Yet as the contour of my form becomes visible in the mirror, so does something else.

My mouth opens on a gasp.

It's barely perceptible, but it's there.

The hairs on my back stand up as a shadowy form sways lightly in the air just behind me, smoke-like fog surrounding me like an outline.

I swallow hard, my heart drumming in my chest.

Is there a rule that if you suddenly become aware of the supernatural it also becomes aware of you? I could swear I've seen something like that in a movie...

Is it a ghost? Or another entity? Is it a creature...my senses go into overload as my rational side meets my fanciful one who'd like nothing more than to believe that if the supernatural is real, then maybe Nikki's ghost could also be real. That he'd still be with me, haunting me, glued to my side for an eternity. Yet even as that hope pulses inside of me, becoming more and more ardent with each passing second, the logical side of me tells me to tread carefully.

The black mass of air floats around me, so, so close. It doesn't make to leave, nor does it seem inclined to move.

I wet my lips as I force myself to slowly turn.

It remains rooted to the spot, even as I tip my chin up to gaze at it.

Swirling black, there's a shimmery mist in it, like a myriad of eyes glistening in the dark. It watches me—or so I think. It stares me down just as time ceases to exist.

The breeze blows again, gently brushing my cheek in the lightest caress.

"It's you, isn't it?" I whisper before I can help myself.

My pulse jams against the surface of my skin, my heart about to burst out of my chest.

With a courage I never knew I possessed, I raise my hand, tracing the foggy outline with the tips of my fingers.

The shimmery particles flash, almost like a blink.

I freeze with my hand midair, waiting for some type of confirmation. The mist neither acknowledges me nor responds to my quiet inquiry. It simply exists, hovering, observing.

"You can understand me, can't you?" I ask gently, moving my hand until I almost reach the top of the outline. As my fingers connect with those particles, they sway lightly, blinking more and emitting a flash of light that tickles as it meets the surface of my skin.

A light giggle escapes me as the shimmery black mist touches my palm, tingles spreading down my back.

"You were there. That night," I continue, digging into the depths of my memory for the same sensation—for the same light brush of satin against my flesh.

The mist closes itself, the black becoming more pronounced before a million lights erupt within the darkness.

My lips tremble with hope and mirth and unending optimism.

"I know you." I smile. "I'll always know you."

He's been with me from the beginning, but I couldn't open my mind to it. I was blind to the world beyond, and that blindness caused me to miss him.

Raising myself on the tips of my toes, I press both palms against the cloud of smoke. Tingles of awareness spread down my body as well as an ineffable sense of déjà vu. But before I can come closer, the mist disintegrates and disappears.

I stumble back, blinking furiously as I look everywhere around me.

"Nikki?" I call out, my voice thick and painful. "Please come back."

Only my own echo greets me, his name reverberating in the room like the most crippling lash against my skin.

"Nikki? Please..."

Surely, I didn't imagine it, did I?

He was here, with me. Just like he promised.

"Oh, Nikki," I cry out, exhausted and alone.