Page 87 of Aftermarket Afterlife

EVERYTHING WAS DARK.BITby bit, I realized it was because my eyes were closed. I was curled into the sort of tight, fetal-position ball that terrified children default to, my knees up against my chest and my legs pulled in close to my body. I forced myself to uncurl bit by bit, and sat up, opening my eyes.

I was sitting in the middle of a vast field of golden wheat, ripe and ready for harvest. A faint breeze blew by, smelling of herbs and flowers, like a perfect dream of a summer night in farming country. I uncurled the rest of the way, pushing myself to my feet as I turned to look around.

The wheat extended seemingly forever in all directions, and the sky above it all was a deep blue, spangled with stars bright enough to see by. There was no moon. I frowned. An exorcism is supposed to throw a spirit into the deepest level of the afterlife they can resonate with, but this didn’t look like anything I knew in the twilightorthe starlight, and if I’d somehow developed an affinity for the midnight, no one had bothered to tell me about it.

I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Hello?” I called. “Hello, is there anyone there?”

No one answered. I scowled, dropping my hands, and tried to return to the daylight. It didn’t work. Nothing changed. The wheat rippled around me, bowing its many heads for a brief moment. I turned in the direction of the breeze. There was a woman standing behind me in the grain. I jumped, not because I didn’t know her, but because I did. I didn’t know how, but I did.

“Hello, Mary Dunlavy,” she said, voice ringing and oddly accented, as if she were trying to speak with every accent in the world at once. Her appearance rippled like the wheat around her, hair long, then short, then long again, straight and curled and tangled and brushed to gleaming perfection. Her face shifted in the same manner, cycling through every possible combination of form and features. It should have been disconcerting, alien, even, but it was somehow perfectly normal and mundane, like the beating of a heart.

She was wearing a long, simple sheath dress the color of the very ripest wheat. It hugged her body like a glove, even as her curves shifted and changed to match the rest of her, now skinny, now fat, now every size in-between. She looked at me with infinite affection and even deeper sympathy.

“First time banished from the mortal plane?” she asked.

“I used to have a pretty nasty bodyguard, ma’am,” I said. “And when I wasn’t working for said bodyguard, I was taking care of kids who may havewantedto banish the babysitter but didn’t know how until they were old enough to understand why they shouldn’t. So I never really ran into a serious attempt at exorcism. Ma’am.”

She smiled, and her pleasure was a poem I could have spent the rest of eternity trying to memorize. That was a terrifying feeling. The desire to make this woman happy was so powerful it was almost overwhelming. It was also a distraction.

“Pardon me, ma’am,” I said, with all the politeness I could muster under the circumstances, “but can you tell me which way takes me back to the mortal world? I need to get back. I have responsibilities.”

“It’s amazing how often the dead want to use that as an excuse, or a reason they should get special treatment,” she said, smile fading. “Looking at the length of you, I suspect you’ve had more than enough special treatment.”

I was starting to feel as if I’d been here before and just forgotten somehow, after I walked away. That, more than all the other evidence, told me where I was and who I was talking to. I pressed one hand over my heart like I was getting ready to recite the Pledge of Allegiance, and bowed at the waist, deep and respectful. “It’s lovely to see you again, milady,” I said. “I don’t know why it took me this long to realize who you are, and I apologize for any insult my slowness may have offered.”

“Oh, don’t worry, my Mary,” she said, waving my words away with a sweep of her hand. “I took the knowing away when last you left me. There are some secrets mortal souls were never meant to carry. But when banished, this is where your soul returns. Always.”

I looked around at the field of wheat. “Why?”

“Because the parasite in my place claimed you here, and made you here, and you were reborn here, into death and duty,” she said, mutable appearance melting into one I hadn’t seen in far too long, until it was Frances Healy standing in front of me, speaking to me. “I am the anima mundi, and while you may have chosen your living family before me, you are still my creature at the core of you.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. I also wasn’t sure it would do me any good to argue. I took a deep breath. “Then send me back.”

“It’s not that simple, my Mary. You were banished fairly, according to the rules that bind your kind.”

“Megan ismine. I need to get back to her.”

“She’s yours through a loophole at best, and a fine illustration of why you shouldn’t be going back. Your former employers were very fond of loopholes. As it seems you’ve inherited their tendencies, shouldn’t I keep you here for everyone’s safety? Shouldn’t you come back to your old position, serve me, and spare the world?”

“Everyone looks for loopholes,” I said, desperately. “They’re not breaking the rules, they’re just...understanding the rules well enough that you can use them to your own advantage. Loophole or no, Alex convinced Dee to hire me, and Megan’s mine now. I have to save her.”

The anima mundi yawned. “Why is this girl so important?”

“She’s in danger because of what Antimony did. Because Antimony savedyou.” I looked her in the eye, trying to seem intimidating. “Leonard only has her because she was Annie’s roommate at Lowryland. She deserves better than this. She deserves a future. Let me help her achieve it.”

“If I do, what stops you coming begging favors again?”

“Not sure I could arrange an exorcism if I wanted to, and that hurt like a mother,” I said. “Also, I saw what happened to Rose when she spent too much time among the gods. I’m happy with my current haunting. I’m not going to go dancing with the divine so often that it gets me transferred to a different celestial department. I have no desire to beg your favors, ma’am. The only reason I’m asking for one now is because I’m not done yet. I have a family left to serve.”

The anima mundi frowned thoughtfully, still wearing Fran’s face. “I can’t decide whether you’re foolish or heroic, little ghost. I’m not sure you understand the difference.”

“I understand bedtimes and brushing teeth and listening to adolescent woes,” I said. “I understand that it’s the babysitter’s job to keep their charges alive until the sun comes up, and I realize that I’ve failed twice this week, and I don’t want to fail again. Please. I just need to get back to Megan.”

“Then you shall have two favors from me, Mary Dunlavy,” said the anima mundi, ponderously. “I’ll return you to where you were, and I’ll chase thoughts of the gorgon girl from your opponent’s mind, at least for the moment. He’ll remember her when reminded, so you won’t have much time to work, but I can give you a little. Make good use of it.”

“And the Seal?” I asked. “Going back does me no good if I just get exorcised again.”

“Already broken,” she said, with a careless wave of her hand. “I’d stop asking for favors now if I were you. You’ve already had more than your fair share.”

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