cHApTEr 16. on vAcATion (2 of 3)

Just by looking at the two of them, anyone would assume they were father and son. An animator dressed in colorful clothes, with a plastic golden crown on his head, approached them. He carried a pack of lollipops in his hands and asked the man whether his son would like one.

“This boy… is not my son?” the man said uncertainly. He looked as if he had seen a ghost, unable to take his eyes off Matt. Matt couldn’t stop looking at him either.

“You’re sure he’s not?” the animator tilted his head. “You practically have the same face.”

“I… I don’t have kids,” the man replied.

“Well, if you say so,” the animator scratched his head under the crown. “Did he get lost then? Boy, do you know where your parents are?”

He repeated the question twice, but Matt didn’t respond. At that moment he seemed to forget everything around him.

“It’s alright, I’m his brother,” Mioray jumped in to clear up the confusion. He grabbed a lollipop from the crowned man’s hand. “Thank you for the treat. My little brother is very thankful. Right, brother?”

“Y-yes. Thank you, mister,” Matt snapped out of it after Mioray gripped his shoulders.

“I’m sorry for bumping into you,” he said to the man who must have been his real father.

“Don’t worry about it, little fella,” the man forced a painful smile. “I’m sorry for startling you. You just reminded me of someone.”

The crowned animator moved on, offering sweets to other visitors in the village. Mioray thought they should be on their way as well, but both the boy and the man hesitated. Neither of them seemed able to leave, as if letting go would mean losing the brief chance to step back into a happier past, one from before death, when their family had still been whole.

“Darling, is everything alright?” a woman nearby suddenly asked, breaking the silence. She slipped her hand into Matt’s father’s. “Why did you stay behind?”

She looked at Mioray and Matt.

“Who are those people? Are they relatives of yours?”

Another blow shattered Matt’s memories of his happy family. This woman wasn’t his mother. That meant either his father had separated from her, or he had been cheating on her. What other explanation could there be for him visiting the hot springs with another woman, holding her hand? She had called him darling. They were clearly close.

It was complicated. Complicated and painfully awkward. They stood in silence, surrounded by people enjoying their evening. Tears began to gather in Matt’s eyes. If this went on much longer, he might not be able to hold back and reveal that he was this man’s real son.

Mioray pulled Matt away, but the boy’s father grabbed Matt’s hand. The gesture seemed instinctive, because a moment later he shuddered and let go.

“Wait,” he said, his voice trembling. “What’s your name?”

“His name is Nat,” Mioray answered with the first name that came to mind.

“Nat?” the man repeated, puzzled. “As in Natalie?”

“What?” Mioray shook his head. “No. As in Nathaniel.”

He had to push away the sudden image of the stern detective Natalie Lance popping into his mind before focusing on the moment again. Matt’s father looked shaken. Seeing a boy who looked exactly like his son must have brought back the pain of losing him.

“Darling?” the woman said impatiently. “What’s gotten into you? Let’s hurry, or our reservation will be canceled.”

“Right,” Matt’s father glanced between the woman and Matt several times. “Right. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”

He placed a hand on the woman’s back, and they walked away. He looked back only once, stealing one more glance at Matt.

The boy stepped forward.

“Da–” Matt opened his mouth, the word already forming on his lips, but Mioray covered it before he could finish.

“Don’t, Matt. You can’t,” Mioray whispered, hugging the boy from behind. “You can’t let him know it’s you. You’re dead, and the dead don’t come back. Even if you reunited with your father, it wouldn’t be for long. You know what’s going to happen. The Order of Mercy may come for you.”

When has the monster under the bed been replaced with the Order of Mercy? Matt didn’t deserve any of this. He should have been able to enjoy his childhood. Any kid should.

Instead, he had to watch his father walk away with some unknown woman. Mioray felt the boy’s tears falling onto his fingers. Matt was probably thinking it was his fault, that his parents couldn’t handle his death and had drifted apart.

Matt’s shoulders trembled with silent sobs. The people around them tried not to stare, unwilling to disturb the image of festivity and relaxed evening strolls through the lively village. Mioray understood them. Most visitors had come here on vacation, to escape routine life and hard work. In a way, it was better that no one interfered. Without knowing the reason for Matt’s grief, they wouldn’t be able to help anyway.

The memory of Terry losing himself returned to Mioray. Emotions in the undead state were projected directly by the soul. Focusing too much on one thing could make everything else disappear. What if Matt was slipping into something like that right now? If he didn’t pull himself together, his emotions might spiral further, tearing him apart from within.

The line between sanity and madness was dangerously thin. As much as they tried not to think about it, the threat of losing their minds and becoming monsters, marked by black and red eyes, would haunt them forever. It could strip away their self-awareness when they least expected it. They could never truly prepare for it, because they never knew what moment or feeling would ignite the madness.

“Wait!” Mioray suddenly shouted, holding Matt tighter. An idea had struck him. A stupid, reckless idea, but those had worked for him before. Sometimes.

Matt’s father stopped immediately, as if he had been looking for a reason to stay.

“Wait,” Mioray repeated. “Actually, my brother here is a spirit medium. He can talk to the dead.”

“What?!” both Matt and his father exclaimed at the same time.

Mioray hesitated, but only for a moment. Matt wanted to speak to his father, to find out why he had come here with another woman instead of his mother. Mioray was going to give him that chance.

“You heard me right,” Mioray said, doubling down on the lie. “We’re here on a business trip, but we have some time to spare. You look like a man who lost someone recently. About a year and four months ago.”

The color drained from Matt’s father’s face. He swallowed and glanced at the woman beside him. Matt and Mioray watched him closely. Would he believe them or dismiss them as scammers?

He leaned toward the woman and whispered something. She looked puzzled, but after a moment she continued down the street alone, leaving Matt’s father behind. Then he walked back toward them.

“Are you stalking me?” he asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Of course not,” Mioray said quickly. “It’s just that my brother can see someone standing beside you. They told him about it, and he told me. It’s someone who wants to speak with you.”

Matt’s father glanced around, but of course he couldn’t see anyone. No one could, because it was a lie. All around them people continued strolling through the village, enjoying their time far from the rush of the city.

Matt’s father wiped his face with his palm, caught between the urge to believe and the certainty that it was impossible.

“Name,” he said at last, his voice cracking. “What’s their name?”

Mioray loosened his hold on Matt, letting the boy speak.

“His name is Matt Sidon,” the boy said, his head lowered.

His father gasped, tears filling his crystal blue eyes. He placed his hands on his forehead, pushing his hair back, and turned in place, drawing confused looks from passers-by.

“This is insane,” he whispered. “This can’t be right.”

Mioray had to persuade the man while he still could, without sounding too pushy. Luckily, dealing with the souls of the dead had helped him develop that skill.

“Look, we can organize a séance with this Matt Sidon for you, if you want,” Mioray said. “It won’t cost you anything. Like I said, we’re here on business and it covers everything we need. So you just say the word.”

“I don’t know,” Matt’s father muttered, shaking his head. He looked completely overwhelmed. “I don’t know…”

“Listen, you don’t have to decide right now. My brother’s tired too. He needs some rest. We’re staying here for the night. What do you say about tomorrow? My brother will be full of energy, and you’ll have time to clear your head,” Mioray took out his phone. “Here, let’s exchange numbers. I’ll call you tomorrow and you can give me your answer.”

Mioray did feel like a scammer, but he wasn’t trying to con the man or take his money. To be honest, he was doing it mostly for Matt, not for his father, so in that sense it might still count as a kind of deception. Oh well. That was a price Mioray was willing to pay.

Matt’s father didn’t resist. He gave Mioray his number, and after that they parted ways. He hurried after the woman, while Mioray and Matt returned to their hotel room.

They didn’t talk much on the way back. Matt was still shaken after seeing his father. The boy loved talking about his parents, and realizing that his family was gone was painful. Mioray didn’t pressure him. He was just relieved that Matt was still himself. For a moment he had feared the boy might lose control of the emotions that struck him, but it seemed he was coping.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Matt asked once they were inside, sitting on his bed. “You said I shouldn’t pursue my father.”

“You’re not going to,” Mioray replied. “Technically, you’ll just be the messenger, passing along what Matt’s soul wants to say.”

“But I am Matt.”

“I know you are,” Mioray said, sitting beside him. “But your father doesn’t know that. So just keep the pretense that you’re relaying Matt’s words. Ask what you want to ask. Tell him what you want him to know.”

Matt pressed his lips together uncertainly.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Mioray said gently.

“I don’t know,” Matt frowned deeply. Just like his father earlier, he seemed unsure what to do or what to believe. “I want to… but I’m scared.”

“I can imagine,” Mioray said, brushing the boy’s hair. “But this might be your only chance to talk to your father and say goodbye. Not many people get that opportunity.

“Besides, I’ll be there with you,” he added. “You won’t have to face it alone.”

After talking it through, Matt seemed to calm down a little. He took out his handheld game console and quietly started playing. Mioray stepped through the glass doors at the other end of the room and out onto the balcony. He looked at the mountains covered with green trees and the orange sun slowly sinking behind the horizon. It was a beautiful view.

The others still hadn’t returned. If the Soul Collective was somewhere nearby, it was hiding well. Considering the area was surrounded by woods, the spiritual beast, often mistaken for poltergeists by ordinary humans, could be anywhere. It could be lurking behind a hill along a hiking trail, waiting for an unsuspecting traveler to wander straight into its black claws. Mioray and his friends had been lucky to escape unharmed the last time they encountered the ghostly monster.

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

Mioray looked down from the balcony. There was a terrace on the ground floor, and he could see a couple sitting at a table, flipping through a brochure.

“Look, it says there’s an old shrine nearby. It’s not in use anymore, but according to a local legend, if a couple wants to find out whether they’re meant for each other, they should bring a heart-shaped linden leaf as an offering. A spirit that resides in the shrine will then deliver its judgment. It says here that the spirit calls the wind, and if the leaf falls off the altar to the right, the couple is meant to be together.”

Mioray kept listening, curious. The season for linden trees to blossom had just begun, and finding a heart-shaped leaf shouldn’t be difficult. He considered checking out the shrine himself. Not because of the romantic legend, but because of the mention of a spirit. It didn’t sound hostile or dangerous like the Soul Collective usually was, but who knew? Maybe it would lead to something.

Mioray checked on Matt, asking if the boy was fine staying in the room and waiting for the others. Matt didn’t mind, so Mioray set off toward the shrine. On the way there he tore a heart-shaped linden leaf from a tree – there was a small grove right at the base of the narrow stone stairs that led up to the shrine.

It took him about ten minutes to reach it. The shrine stood high on the mountain on a small plateau. It wasn’t anything grand. Surrounded by trees, its entrance was marked by two stone lanterns without fire, and behind them stood a simple wooden structure with a niche enclosed by a low, rusty fence. Inside the niche was a solid square wooden table that served as the altar.

Besides Mioray, there wasn’t a single person or soul around. He could still see the flickering green fire of his soul above his head. The power of spiritual sight was still active. Mioray walked around the wooden structure, but he didn’t notice anything suspicious. Eventually he returned to the front and stopped beside the rusty fence near the altar. He shrugged. Placing the heart-shaped linden leaf on the wooden table wouldn’t hurt anyone, so he did it.

Nothing happened, no matter how long he waited.

What did I expect? he wondered, lifting his gaze.

The sky was barely visible through the green canopy of leaves, and it was already growing darker. There was no point staying any longer and waiting for a miracle. He turned toward the stairs, only to notice someone climbing them.

It was Erinel. Alone.

That wasn’t the kind of miracle he had expected.

“Erinel?!” he called out, louder than he intended. “What are you doing here?”

She stopped mid-step, one knee bent on the higher stone stair. Clearly she hadn’t expected to see him either.

“I heard a rumor about a spirit dwelling nearby,” she said, continuing up the stairs, though more slowly now. “I decided to investigate it. I didn’t expect to find you here, Mioray. You didn’t locate the Soul Collective in the village?”

“No, we didn’t. I thought maybe it might be hiding around this shrine, but there’s nothing here.”

“That’s unfortunate. It means climbing up here was a waste of time. And until we deal with the Soul Collective, I won’t be able to relax. It disturbs me like a swarm of mosquitoes ruining a camping trip.”

She rubbed her arm and glanced around, hoping to spot something unusual. Mioray felt a pang of pity. He had never considered that sensing the Soul Collective could be this exhausting.

If only I could ease her burden a little, he thought, glancing at the shrine.

He walked back to the fence and looked at the heart-shaped leaf he had placed on the altar. It lay in the center of the table exactly where he had left it.

“The legend says two people are supposed to stand at the shrine with the heart-shaped linden leaf offering and wait for the verdict,” he said. “I brought the leaf, but nothing happened. Maybe that’s because I was alone? With you here we could pretend to be a couple and see whether the legend is actually true.”

Just suggesting it was bold of him, but Mioray didn’t waver. Over the past year he and Erinel had gone out together more than once, and though they had never spoken about dating, he had grown comfortable around her. He missed that. Two weeks ago Lokiel had appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly the easy understanding between him and Erinel had begun to unravel. Whatever history she had with Lokiel remained a mystery, and Mioray wasn’t sure he wanted to learn it. What it did make him realize was that he couldn’t take Erinel for granted. If he did nothing, he might lose her.

“And how do we check if the legend is true?” Erinel asked, stopping beside him. She was so close that he could smell the scent of forest after refreshing rain.

“Maybe we should hold hands?” Mioray suggested. He had to keep himself in check so his voice wouldn’t betray him. “And if that doesn’t work, there are plenty of other things that could make us look like a real couple.”

Erinel didn’t answer right away. She simply studied the linden leaf resting on the altar. By now – and really for a while – she had to have known about Mioray’s feelings. There was no way she hadn’t noticed. She didn’t need to be an expert in human culture to understand something that obvious.

The problem was that Mioray had no idea what she made of it.

“Let’s try that,” she said at last, extending her hand to him. “I’m curious to see whether the legend is true. And what these other things you have in mind are.”

Now she was just teasing him. Still, he was relieved. For a moment he had feared the distance between them would remain after what had happened two weeks ago, but it seemed things were not as strained as he had thought. Letting out a quiet breath, Mioray took Erinel’s hand in his. It felt warm. As always, the sensation was faint at first, but when he focused on it he could sense the gentle warmth of her soft palm.

They waited for the mysterious spirit to appear and deliver its verdict, but it showed no hurry. The plateau remained silent. Nothing disturbed the stillness except Mioray’s own heartbeat, thundering in his ears.

And that was only the beginning. He couldn’t back down from his own suggestion now. Pretending to be a couple clearly wasn’t going to produce any immediate miracle.

What other thing do I have in mind? Mioray wondered, glancing at the unmoving linden leaf. If nothing happened, he would have to think of something else that might convincingly portray a couple. Erinel had said she was curious to see what he could come up with, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t get annoyed if he overstepped.

“I wanted to tell you about the mask,” Mioray said nervously, trying to break the tension. “I actually got it back. It wasn’t destroyed in the fire. I mean, it burned a little, but the damage is barely noticeable.”

Erinel didn’t reply, but he noticed a faint smile forming at the corners of her lips, and her gaze softened. He wondered if the news pleased her. She hadn’t shown any emotion when he told her the mask was lost, yet hearing that it had survived seemed to draw that quiet smile from her.

Maybe I should thank Amika for returning it when we get back, he thought.

The thought vanished almost immediately when a greenish, mint-colored glow lifted from the table, rising upward and gathering into a shape. Hair sprouted wildly in every direction around a broad, wrinkled oval face. It was the face of an old man. An old man who was unmistakably dead, now a wandering soul. All this time he had been hiding beneath the shrine.

Mioray and Erinel didn’t flinch. They watched him closely, studying his every movement. The old man seemed not to notice their scrutiny at all, humming quietly under his breath.

His clothes looked ancient: a brown wool tunic, now tinted with the same ghostly green, cinched with a leather belt, and a pair of wool breeches. His bare feet rested on the ground, with dried clumps of earth, equally spectral, caught beneath his toenails. The man himself was small and thin, yet his head appeared disproportionately large, mostly because of the long hair that hung around it like a tangled halo.

Once he had fully emerged from the ground, he began circling Mioray and Erinel, still unaware that they were watching him. It made the scene all the stranger, because he was clearly studying them, rubbing his chin now and then, tilting his head, even rising onto his tiptoes to peer closely into their faces, as he was shorter than both of them. The thought that they might actually see him never seemed to cross his mind; he was used to being invisible to the living.

His inspection or whatever it was meant to be dragged on far longer than necessary, yet Mioray and Erinel waited patiently for it to finish, curious to see where it would lead. When the old man finally concluded his observation, he returned to the shrine and stood behind the table. He placed his fingers upon the leaf and…

…lifted it into the air.

Mioray’s jaw nearly dropped. He had never seen a soul interact with a physical object before. Only the Soul Collective had been capable of that.

The legend was real, and this old man’s soul was behind it. Apparently he examined the couple standing before him, then moved the leaf left or right depending on his judgment. What would he decide about Mioray and Erinel? Mioray waited to see which direction the man would move it, but before he could do so, Erinel released Mioray’s hand and seized the man’s wrist.

“What?!” the old man cried, jolting out of his quiet trance.

Right, Erinel could do that. As a greanrip, she could interact with souls.

“I must admit, I am impressed. I have never seen a soul affect the physical world,” Erinel said, still holding his wrist. So this was uncharted territory even for her. “How did you accomplish it?”

The old man pulled free from her grasp and straightened, folding his arms across his chest. A smug smile spread across his broad face.

“Young lady, ’tis I who am impressed,” he declared in a grave, dignified tone. “Never before have I met one who could see me, let alone lay hands upon me. Pray tell, what manner of sorcery dost thou wield?”

“I asked first.”

“Ah, a child without manners,” the old man said, wagging a finger at her reproachfully. “Are the youth of this age not taught to honor their elders? Know this – I have seen seven centuries pass, young lady.”

Mioray barely managed to keep from smiling. Erinel being scolded like an impatient young girl? He knew better than to interfere in their dispute. It was wiser to let the ancients settle it among themselves. Seven centuries was a long time, after all. The man could probably tell countless stories of the old world, but for now Mioray was more amused by the sight of Erinel folding her arms in the exact same way as the old man and narrowing her golden eyes. Perhaps it was the first time anyone had called her a child without manners.

“Seven centuries is nothing,” she replied coldly. “I am far older than that.”

“Ha! A jester!” The old man’s laughter rang through the forest, though no ordinary human could hear it. “Young lady, whom dost thou hope to fool? No human lives so long.”

As he spoke, Erinel’s arm suddenly transformed into a wooden stake. It shot forward without warning, piercing through the old man’s wild hair, barely missing his ear, and slammed into the wall of the shrine behind him.

The man let out a startled squeak.

“Who said I was human?” Erinel asked sweetly as her arm returned to normal.

Mioray sighed quietly. This did not seem like the best way to win the old man’s trust.

By the time Erinel opened a portal and guided the old man toward the realm between realms, night had already fallen. After her demonstration with the stake, the old man had noticeably softened his attitude. Mioray helped explain who Erinel was and why it was time for him to move on.

The old man did not object much. Deciding whether couples were meant to stay together had been his only amusement for centuries, but aside from that he had grown thoroughly weary of lingering as a hermit soul. He admitted that the most he could manage was lifting small objects, leaves and such, and moving them about. Even that was remarkable, yet he had no explanation for how he had learned to do it. Living so long as a soul, with nothing else to occupy his time, had simply taught him the trick.

Throughout the seven hundred years he had lingered as a soul, not a single greanrip had come across him. According to Erinel, that was not unusual. Some souls wandered even longer than that, especially in remote places. By the time greanrips eventually found them, however, they had usually already merged into a Soul Collective.

“I’m surprised this one didn’t,” Erinel said, picking up the leaf that had fallen to the ground. “My only explanation is that he learned to interact with physical objects and kept himself entertained with that silly rumor.”

Mioray was tempted to point out that she herself had said she had never seen another soul capable of doing what the old man had done. That meant there were still things about the afterlife even she didn’t understand. And if she didn’t know everything, then perhaps not everything she believed was absolute. Like, for instance, the supposed inevitability of death once someone began seeing greanrips.

But no, he didn’t want to ruin the moment. He didn’t want to argue with Erinel, not when he could finally speak with her openly again, like before. They were on vacation. They should enjoy their quiet getaway and leave all the complicated matters behind in the city. Those could wait a few more days.

“I don’t know,” he said, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Silly or not, that rumor gave this place some charm. I feel bad for the couple I overheard back at the hotel. When they come here tomorrow, they’ll think the legend was a lie, even though it was sort of real until tonight. They’ll think they climbed all these stairs for nothing.”

Erinel placed the leaf back on the wooden table inside the altar niche.

“Which direction do you think he would have moved it?” Mioray asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, turning toward the stairs. “Souls of the dead aren’t clairvoyant.”

“Who knows? Maybe some of them are,” Mioray said, catching up to her. “Come on, aren’t you even a little curious?”

Erinel stopped abruptly before stepping onto the stone stairs.

“It disappeared,” she said, focusing.

“What did?”

“The presence of the Soul Collective,” she glanced back toward the shrine. “That soul must have been the source of it. I suppose it makes sense. If he could influence the physical world the way a Soul Collective does, he likely carried other traits associated with one as well. It’s remarkable that he resisted becoming one.”

“You’re deflecting, young lady,” Mioray said, mimicking the old man’s tone.

She shot him a sharp look.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about the way he spoke to me,” she said quickly.

Maybe it was the darkness of the evening, but the color in her cheeks seemed different from usual. Was she blushing, or was Mioray imagining it? The way she held her head high and turned slightly aside, her eyelashes lowered, only strengthened that suspicion.

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