Page 3 of Haunted Hearts

Jonah opens and shuts his mouth as he looks away. “The pull to Willow is strong, which means she’s close-ish—though I don’t know what that means in this realm. I caught a brief glimpse of a wasteland similar to this, but I saw… mountains? Short ones, with flat tops.” His hands fly to his stomach as if it pains him. “I also caught a glimpse of Willow. Fulton has her trapped. She’s in trouble andalive.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong. You’re seeing her spirit. She can’t be alive. The living can’t survive here.”

“No, I’m telling you, Willow’s definitely alive. Both sheandFulton are.” Jonah bends in half, bracing his hands on his thighs. He takes a long deep breath. “Oh god… it’s bad. Really fucking bad. Fulton’s torturing her.”

“What?”

Jonah jumps at my tone before his gaze returns to my face. “You know, I didn’t catch your name, by the way. If we’re going to save her, I want to know who I’m working with.”

“She’s not alive, Jonah. She can’t be,” I object, but the passion behind my conviction is lacking. The look of horror in Jonah’s face convinces me that he knows what he saw. “She can’t be alive because if she is—”

“Then she’s suffering, yeah, Iknow. I saw it!” Jonah snaps loudly, his tail whipping behind him with irritation. “So, we need to gonow.”

I nod, my grip tightening once more on my scythe. “Give me a direction and we’ll billow there. We’ll do short distances to make sure we’re not going too far off course.”

Jonah glares at me, “Before we go anywhere, tell me who you are.”

Frustration and rage collide in my gut. We’re wasting time. “It’s Brock.”

He gives me a sharp nod. “Alright, Brock, let’s go save Willow.”

His eyes flicker down to his body.

“We’re leaving it,” I tell him before he can ask. “You have no more use for that vessel.”

Jonah nods, seemingly content with my answer. He points to his right, “She’s this way.”

* * *

“Ok,we need to stop for a second, I’m going to be sick,” Jonah gasps, stumbling forward before bending in half to retch. “This way of traveling is terrible. I hate it. Can’t we just order a car or something?”

I scan the wasteland, looking for signs of Willow and the warlock. While I may not have the ability to track like Jonah does, there’s a ‘pull’ in my chest that wasn’t there an hour ago. We must be getting close. I’m sure of it. Just the thought of being close to Willow after all this time… my heart races in excitement. But as I look around, I see no sign of her, Fulton, or of theUtikyie. Where the hell is she?

Jonah dry heaves a few feet away from me. Irrational irritation flares up, burning away my excitement. This is the fastest way of travel. It would be faster if we didn’t have to stop and go, assessing which direction we need to head in, that’s for sure, but we don’t have that luxury. As discombobulating as this way of traveling is for new spirits, Jonah is going to have to suck it up a bit longer until we get to our true destination. Every second we stand here is another second that Willow suffers. The idea of her in any type of pain tears me apart.

But getting angry at a new soul isn’t fair to it. They don’t understand anything. It’s like getting mad at a baby for not being able to read, write, or communicate effectively on its first attempt. So, while I’m anxious to be on our way, I rein in my irritation with a sigh.

“You won’t find cars here, Jonah.” My hand tightens on my scythe before loosening as I work to keep my emotions even. “Place the tip of your index finger in the middle of your forehead, close your eyes, and hold your breath for ten seconds.”

“What?” Jonah gasps between heaves. “Why would I do that?”

I swallow back a harsh retort. “Do it and you’ll feel better.”

“I’ll look ridiculous.”

“You’ll feel better and that’s all that matters.” If I can get him back on his feet and steady, we’ll be able to get on our way.

Jonah rolls his eyes but does what I’ve requested. Ten seconds later, the man is gasping in surprise as his hand falls away from his forehead.

“How did—"

“I’ve been billowing spirits for many years. It would be a failure on my part if I didn’t help them in any way that I can, to make each step of their transition into this world as comfortable as possible.”

“Well, why the hell didn’t you show me this three stops ago? This teleportation shit sucks,” Jonah rolls his eyes. “How is it that I’m even sick? I’m dead, I shouldn’t feel anything, right? And yet not only am I nauseous, I still need to breathe, and I have most of my senses.”

“You haveallof your senses,” I correct, still scanning the horizon.

My eyes drift upward, where they land on the dark clouds. They have gathered slowly. So slowly, in fact, that I haven’t noticed them until now. The clouds aren’t natural. They’re too thick, too dark, and eerily still up in the sky. Now that we’ve stopped to take a breath, I can feel Death Magic all around me, like static in the air. It’s coming from every direction and is thickening as time passes. Something is going on in this realm. Usually, this only happens if Death crosses over to the Realm of the Living. It’s something the realm has gotten used to over the years. Though none of us knows why he visits the other realm, we’ve all grown used to it. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to leave often, since his presence here keeps this realm balanced. But he’s already gone over recently. He doesn’t normally make trips like this back-to-back.

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