Chapter 13

“The Great Owl will face the Anisginawith one eye plucked from its skull; it will bleed, and will drink the blood of its own flock.”

Crying Shadow’s teaching of the Great Owl

Translated by Erik Livingtree

Nethermore

1

“IT has been waiting for you for a very, very long time!” IT informed her.

There it was again. IT was referring to ITself as IT instead of using normal personal pronouns. Did that matter? Whitney doubted it. It only served as some insight to ITs personality.

She wasn’t sure what she should expect when she opened her eyes to gaze upon ITs lair. The one thing that she did expect didn’t turn out to be true. She thought only her mind would arrive and her body would be left with Tommy. She stood in ITs lair, body and all.

She was standing in a room, seeing with her eyes, and hearing with her ears—thanks to Tommy. ITs lair wasn’t a cave or a cavern. It was a cozy living room with a fireplace, a couch, and beautiful paintings hanging on the wall. Next to the couch and facing directly toward the fireplace was a man with long dark hair sitting in an old rocking chair with ITs back to her. IT rocked gently as IT waited for her response.

She didn’t respond right away. She gazed around the room trying to figure out if there was anything she could figure out about her tormentor—anything she could use.

At first she thought IT was a man sitting in the chair, but just as she was about to turn her attention elsewhere, she noticed ITs ears poking through ITs pitch black hair. They were gray, pointed, and had a shiny gloss look to them. Whatever IT was, IT wasn’t a man. IT was wearing abrightly colored tunic with a majestic look and the rocking chair IT sat in was designed with a hole so ITs thick long tail poked through. The animated way the tail moved reminded her of an elephant’s trunk. It swept around the floor searching, the end of it had little finger like appendages, each them blindly picking the area around it.

IT sat in ITs chair holding a bone white pipe with intricate carvings. No smoke curled from the pipe, but IT occasionally sucked from it anyway. The most obvious thing about IT, however, was ITs size. The tunic IT wore bulged with powerful muscles.

The fire wasn’t burning in the fireplace, but it appearedit had not long before. The fireplace looked cold and dark, but she could still smell the remnants of the fire. It hadn’t been out for very long.

“Welcome to Nethermore!” IT said with an unusually delighted voice, pleased to have company. IT didn’t rise from ITs chair or turn toward her. IT just sat there rocking.

“IT sees that you didn’t come totally alone after all. Smart. Instead of bringing your brother, you brought pieces of him. Tell me, young one. Will your brother resent you if you cannot return what you have stolen?”

“I didn’t steal them!” she argued.

“No? Did you ask him first?” IT asked.

“No,” she answered with her head hung low.

“SPLENDID!” IT said as it stood. “There’s hope for you after all! And here IT thought IT would have to strip the things IT needed from you by force! You are turning out to be quite the survivor. Aren’t you, my dear?”

“I’m not your dear, and I’m not giving you a damned thing!” she said. Language her mind retorted, immediately followed by shut up, Whitney. Now you’re correcting your own language.

“You don’t have to give me anything, young one. Just get me out of here. I’ll be on my way and you can be on yours. No biggie,” IT said as it turned slowly toward her.

ITs face was eerily human, but ITs skin was shiny gray in color. The whites of ITs eyes weren’t white, but silver, much like the color of her irises when she wasn’t piggybacking. ITs slit shaped irises were orange, and ITs pupils were brown. The color arrangement of ITs eyes were incredibly hard to look at and nearly impossible to look away from.

“It’s a biggie to me. I’m not giving you anything, and I’m not going to help you get out of here,” she said. She intentionally didn’t refer to IT as IT. She wanted to see if that made any difference. IT had no reaction.

“Did you bring the necklace like you promised?”

“No. I did not. The necklace is the only chip I have to bargain with. I want my friend back.”

“IT’s actually glad that you didn’t, young one. Neither you or IT could leave here if you had brought it with you.” IT said with a smile. “IT has been studying you very closely the past couple of days and IT predicted that you would leave it behind if IT told you to bring it. NO,” IT said gleefully. “All IT ever needed was you! Thanks for coming!” IT finished with a smile.

Whitney had surmised the same thing. She was sure she needed the necklace if she were to have any chance of getting back to the other side. That’s why she made sure both Tommy and the necklace were on the other side, but that didn’t stop her from feeling duped.

“You were willing to take the risk I wouldn’t listen?”

“There was no risk! You’re a stubborn brat that likes to defy authority. IT knew you would do the opposite of what you were told. Just like you did with that fat weasel of a Camp Master. You are predictable you see. That is why IT will get what IT wants from you. You may as well not fight the inevitable.”

“Sorry IT. I’m a fighter. I’ve learned that much about myself. As a matter of fact IT will only leave here over my dead body.”

“Oh there is no reason to be so dramatic. Your dead body, as you put it, is a lovely idea! But bear in mind. IT likes to play with ITs food like a kitten toys with a mouse before it rips it apart.”

Whitney steeled herself and stood more firmly. “Yeah like that’s gonna happen?” she said with determination.

For a second IT opened ITs eyes a little wider. IT seemed amused by her rebellious attitude. Then IT snickered.

“Do you doubt this?” IT asked her. “Do you actually believe that you have the slightest chance of surviving?”

“No!” she admitted. “My plan isn’t to survive! I don’t think either of us makes it out of here.”

“Touché!” IT said. “That could be possible. We could compromise. This doesn’t have to end in any ugly way. We could be reasonable. We are sensible—right?” ITs tone felt deceptive. Not that she would ever compromise with it anyway.

IT directed her to sit on the black leather couch facing the fireplace. “Let’s chat a bit ... shall we?”

The last thing in the world Whitney wanted to do was to sit and ‘chat’ with this creature. She wanted to do anything but that. She wanted to do to take it all back—to wish herself to a time before Lake Amicolola—a time before she had friends who could be hurt by her actions. Her decisions could destroy other people’s lives.

If she could only un-climb the wall that gave her the false impression of confidence, leading her to believe she could outsmart IT.

More than anything, she wanted to unmake the necklace and erase the bond that led Kat to Nethermore, bonding Kat to IT.

To unkiss Kam.

Most of all, she wanted to cram the grey face of this hideous creature into the fireplace that it seemed to enjoy so much, and light the fire so she could watch IT burn.

Instead, she moved over to the couch and did what she didn’t want to do. She sat.

“So what’s with the whole IT thing?” she asked again emphasizing the word IT.

“IT has no need for a name for IT has no friends to beckon IT,” IT replied.

“Okay, then what is IT? A demon?”

IT thought this was very funny. IT laughed so hard, IT didn’t just sit back down, but plopped back down onto ITs rocking chair. IT held ITs stomach and laughed a hardy laugh.

ITs behavior reminded her of the bird dung. That IT crapped on them just to crap on them as if doing that was the funniest joke. She thought there was truth behind that thought—that IT really had done that just for the sake of doing it.

“You have absolutely no memories of before, do you?” IT asked.

She gave him a blank stare.

“We come from the same place, you and IT,” IT said, pointing at her when IT said you, and then at ITself when it said IT. “We’re obviously not the same breed if you will, but you didn’t originate in the world you remember. You originated in the same world IT did. So no ... IT is not a demon.”

“Began where?” she asked.

“Never mind,” IT said standing up. IT crossed behind her. “It is no concern now, but it is intriguing that you remember nothing. IT remembers everything. That is what you should be concerned about, because that is why you have no chance of surviving.”

“Tell me!” she demanded. She stood up and turned toward IT. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to know. It’s not a pleasant world. IT understands why you would want to leave.”

Whitney felt her frustration building. Apparently, IT knew more about her than she knew about herself. IT had information about her that she wanted—no. IT had information that she needed to know. But IT felt the need to keep that information to ITself.

Then it hit her.

“Wait! You have no intention of returning to your world. Do you?”

She thought she saw IT cringe a little. IT had let the cat out of the bag. IT moved back around her and sat in ITs chair. Then IT motioned for her to sit.

“Busted! Yeah...” IT said as IT hunched it shoulders and tossed ITs arms in the air. “You got IT. Too bad you don’t win any prizes for guessing ... OOOOPS!”

“You’d rather stay here then go home?” she asked.

“Oh NO!” IT said slapping one oversized knee. “IT definitely wants to be on your side of Nethermore. So much more interesting over there! Look!” IT snapped ITs clawed fingers at the fireplace.

The flames lit immediately, but those flames weren’t orange and yellow. They were blue, and green, and yellow, and the flames weren’t alone. The flames formed the shape of her brother’s eyes, but his eyes weren’t entirely normal. They stared blankly at her as if there was nothing behind them. She felt like he was staring at her and accusing her.

“You did that to him!” IT said as IT laughed again. IT slapped ITs knee a second time and rocked back and forth in ITs chair. IT laughed so hard that IT seemed to be having a hard time breathing.

“OOOH GAWD,” IT said finally as IT began to catch ITs breath again. “YOU TOOK HIS EYES! OOOOHHH! YOU’RE A BAD, BAD GIRL!”

“IT’S NOT FUNNY!” she screamed.

The vision in the fireplace panned out. The flames shrank becoming his head, shrank some more, forming the shapes of her friends, panning back to show they were headed away from the well. They were abandoning her. Tommy closed his eyes, but she could still see the helplessness on his face. She saw his panic and fear. He was stuck in her dark world, but he wasn’t used to it.

“Look at how terrified he is! I mean you’ve dealt with your condition your entire life and after what—five minutes—he’s about to crap his jeans!”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed.

“Awe! Did IT make you angwee? IT didn’t do that! You did!” IT accused with one clawed finger, rocking back and forth in mockery.

Whitney could no longer look into the fireplace. The images there were too damning. Instead, she focused her attention on IT. Somehow looking at the hideous color of ITs skin was easier than looking at her brother’s face.

But she regretted not having her attention focused on the fireplace. IT had been looking in the fireplace and IT clearly saw something troubling. A flash of something crossed ITs ugly face, but by the time she could turn her had back to the fireplace, whatever IT saw was gone. All she saw was little John wearing a full length headdress and his face and body was painted for war.

“Woo woo woo woo. Woo woo woo woo!” IT mocked. “Is he for real with that crap? I mean, come on, little one! You see why I want to be on your side of things?” IT asked. “So much more fun going on over there!”

The worried flash had been just that—a flash, but just because IT had been able to recover from whatever IT had seen quickly, didn’t mean IT wasn’t worried about something. If IT was worried at all that had to be a good sign for her.

“I mean come on,” IT continued. “They are so pathetic and defenseless. Not like you and IT at all. Come on! Just you and IT! Let’s hold hands and walk through the park together! Whaddaya say? IT promises to leave your friends alone! Hell! Even the friends of your friends. There are billions of them over there! IT only needs a few hundred now and then! NO BIGGIE!”

Did IT hear what IT was saying? ITs proposal was ridiculous. As if there was any chance she’d be willing to bargain the lives of the innocent to protect her friends. ITs proposal was so ridiculous that she didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, she remained focused on the little bit of hope that there was something IT saw in the fireplace that worried IT. She didn’t know what that hope was, but she clung to it anyway.

“Show me Kat!” she demanded, hopingher demand might lead it to believe she was considering ITs offer.

“Kat schmat! She is soooo yesterday. Tasted good though. She was a lovely one!”

“SHOW ME KAT!” she repeated. She could still sense Kat. IT could say whatever IT wanted to, but she knew Kat was still alive, and she knew Kat was close.

IT snapped ITs fingers and Kat’s closed eyes appeared in the flames of the fireplace.

“NO. Show me all of her!” she demanded.

“Fine! Sure! Whatever her highness wishes.” IT snapped ITs fingers again, and Kat, lying half on her side, surrounded by feet appeared as another flame in the fireplace. They were no longer on the atoll at all. They were back at the fire pit, and her necklace was gone, but the place where it had melded into her chest was still scarred a tender red color.

It still cares about that necklace, she thought.

“Is she still alive?” she asked.

“Who cares? I mean, really? Either way, you and she are so over! She’s mad at you, you know.”

“So she is still alive?”

“Yeah, but she’s really, really pissed. I mean tear your head off and shit down your neck PISSED!”

LANGUAGE! She thought automatically.

“I don’t care if she hates my guts! As long as she’s still alive!” Whitney said.

“Okay. Good thing because you are not her favorite person right now Pr ... my dear,” IT said with a note of sarcasm.

Whitney looked back toward the flames. The scene had panned out viewing the entire scene, but her mind locked onto what IT started to say.Pr?

Princess? She thought. Not hardly. She was anything but a princess. What, then?

In the fireplace, Little John was staring at the sky with his arms partially raised praying to his God. Erik was standing next to him pointing his finger to a book, but the book was like no other book she had ever seen before. It looked handmade.The pages were extremely thickleather. The book was open in his hands and he was pointing at it repetitively. It almost looked like he was pointing at a specific part, because every time he pointed, he pointed to the same spot on the page.

“What are they saying?” Whitney asked.

“Sooorrry! No sound. IT thinks the sound tube is busted or something,” IT answered.

ITs lying, she thought. IT doesn’t want me to hear what they are saying because they are trying to talk to me. They are trying to tell me something! I should have learned to read lips.

2

The life of a flower that goes unpicked is but a few weeks, or months, at best. But the life of a flower that is picked and given to someone you care about is as long and powerful as the memory that stems from its gifting.

In Nethermore, Tommy’s fiery image was staring toward Whitney from the fireplace. His look was an accusation. In his appearance, it seemed as if there was nothing going on behind his eyes, but that wasn’t the case. His mind was very active.

A little too active.

He was having a lot of difficulty remembering where he was. He had no idea what was going on in the outside world, but inside of his head, things were coming apart. His world was fracturing. He was reliving thousands of dreams stored in his head all at once—traversing them at the same instant, over and over, as well as his memories. The entire experience was overwhelming.