Chapter 10: The King of Spirits
The laugh came again. "Very astute, Melissa."
"You know my name?" she said.
"Yes, well, I can-"
"Can you just show yourself?" said Harry in an unnaturally high voice. "Please?"
Melissa grinned. Usually it was she who panicked and Harry who thought quickly and got them out of the situation. Now he was completely floored while she felt perfectly at ease, buoyant even. It would be something to tease him about later.
"Could you?" she asked. "It would be easier for all of us."
"All right," said the spirit king. "The fun does wear off after a while." As it spoke, part of the air in front of the altar shimmered and coalesced into a small human shape. It solidified into a skinny young boy with overlong hair, dark skin and wearing nothing but a pair of ragged trousers. He smiled warmly at them. "Hi," he said in a lilting, childish voice.
"Um, hey," said Savana hesitantly. "Are you the King of Spirits?"
"Oh no, I'm the Queen of Lonmar," said the spirit sarcastically.
Mellissa laughed at Savana's expression. "So, your Majesty, could you help us? I have a favour I want to ask…"
"Let me guess-you want me to give back someone's life?" said the spirit. Melissa nodded. "Whose?"
"My father's."
"I need a name," said the king. "Lots of spirits in my realm. Take this one whose form I'm wearing for instance. He's one of many urchins I get. There are a lot of fathers as well."
"His name is Akkarin," said Melissa. "Of family Delvon, House Velan. Kyralian magician who died thirteen years ago in the war between Kyralia and the Sachakan Ichani."
"Doesn't ring a bell," said the spirit. "I'll call him though." He froze, staring into space. Melissa, Savana and Harry didn't move until a second haze formed, this time along the floor. It turned into the misty body of a man who lay peacefully asleep. He was attired in black robes and his dark hair was pulled back in a tail. His pale face accentuated the finesse of his features: a strong jaw line, a wide brow, straight nose and clearly defined cheekbones. His body was long; if he stood up he would be more than a head taller than Savana. Several small cuts and bruises adorned his face and hands.
"Father!" cried Melissa, leaping forward and breaking the silence. She dropped to her knees and reached out to touch the man. Her hand went right through as if it were a cloud. "What-?"
"That's just his spirit," said the king. "I need material to make a body."
"Oh, right," said Melissa, reaching into her pocket. "Here. These rings were made with his blood."
The king took them. "Ah, thank you. Now, the sacrifice?"
"Sacrifice?" yelped Savana and Harry together.
"The book didn't say anything about a sacrifice!" exclaimed Melissa.
The spirit tutted. "Books only take you so far. I'm not surprised this wasn't written though. Not many people would be willing to give it a try then."
"W-why?" stuttered Harry, speaking at last.
The king turned to him. "I was wondering when you'd say something. Well, it's simple: if a life is to be given, another life must be given in payment. It's necessary to keep the balance."
"So you want a sacrifice?" queried Savana. "Fine then. You can have my horse." Melissa and Harry looked at her. "What? I don't particularly like him. He's got a bad temper. He hates everyone, the only difference to me is he doesn't bite me."
"That won't do," said the spirit king. "A horse's life for another horse is fine. But I need a human's life for this. What's more, it has to be given willingly. A sacrifice, remember?"
There was a long, tense silence. Harry and Savana looked uneasily at each other. Melissa glanced at no one. She turned to the king. "There isn't any other way?" she said in a small voice. The spirit shook his head, looking apologetic.
Melissa closed her eyes. She sighed as different memories came to her. She thought of when she was five years old and she had walked in on her mother crying one day. Terrified, she had run to get Rothen and he had gently explained to her that it was her father's death anniversary. A few years later, her mother took her to the large graveyard in the woods and laid flowers on a particular gravestone. She had then gathered Melissa into her arms and said, "He would be so proud if he saw you."
Then it was the recent memories again, reading the diary entry and the dark thoughts that had filled her head that night. The plans she had made afterward, the long journey, Savana's involvement…all of it would have come to nothing.
She turned to Harry and gave a small smile. "Too bad we didn't know about this at the beginning, huh?"
"Would've saved us a lot of trouble," he agreed. "Shall we go then?" he added. "Home, I mean. There's not much point staying in Sachaka anymore."
"Home," Melissa echoed, an unpleasant shiver passing through her at the word. Home, she repeated in her mind. A sarcastic little laugh escaped her lips. Harry and savana looked at her in alarm.
"Oh, I'm fine," she reassured them. "Just wondering…home. I don't think there's much of one for me."
"What?" said Harry incredulously. "What're you talking about?"
"I'm just…" Melissa didn't finish, turning to look at her father's spirit. Akkarin continued to look peacefully asleep. Melissa thought of how often Sonea had praised Akkarin and was bitten by a sudden urge to throw her head back and scream. She restrained herself, barely, and turned into a fervour of stormy thinking. She would be so glad to have him back…and she really doesn't love me, that's obvious. But other people love you, a voice within her contradicted. Not as much as Sonea should, she thought furiously. Except maybe Harry. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. But what's the point? He loves me like a sister, not the way I love him. That's why he's so overprotective and stuff. I can't tell him how I really feel and he's the only one I really care about, the only one who would risk his life for me. There's really not much point to life without him. And I'm tired of all this, I'd have to live with my mother's façade…no, that's not going to happen. She gave herself a nod and looked at the spirit. "If you want a human sacrifice I'll be it."
"NO!" roared Harry. He barreled into her, squashing her down and covering her mouth with his hand before she could say anything more. "Don't listen to her, she's-ow!" as she bit his hand.
"Get off me!" she screamed, throwing him off and jumping to her feet. Her hair was sticking up and she was breathing hard; as Savana took a step back she realized she must look positively deranged.
"Mels, what's wrong with you?" Harry whispered from the floor. She looked at him and felt a wave of guilt wash over her as she saw the bruise blooming on his cheek.
"I'm sorry," she said, helping him up. "Listen to me, Harry, I just-"
"What is wrong with you?" he yelled in her face. "You want to die? Are you insane, Mels, you can't go around giving your life up, you know what you're doing-"
"I do know, Harry," she replied, feeling a strange sensation, almost an ache, passing through her. It was not entirely unpleasant. "I want this. You have no idea how much my mother misses my father; so much she would exchange me for him. It's true, you don't need to look so shocked," she added on noticing Savana's pale, shocked face out of the corner of her eye. She turned to face both Savana and Harry, who was staring at her in mute shock. "After I found that out-well, I wasn't sure what to do but when I found out about this," she gestured to the altar, "I knew I had to do it. I wasn't planning to give up my life but-" she took a deep breath "-if that's what it takes-I mean I don't see much point in living if nobody loves me-"
"You think mothers are the only ones who can love?" Harry hissed. "Mels, I-I-Rothen loves you! And Dorrien and Cery and-and-the entire freakin' world if you'd just give it a chance!"
"I don't care about that, Harry," she replied sadly. "All those people could love me to pieces but it still doesn't-I-anyway-"
She faced the spirit king. "I offer you my life. Please take it and give my father back." In her peripheral vision she saw Harry's face lose all its colour and he swayed slightly. Fortunately he didn't faint and she found the courage to mutter one final word: "Please."
"No," Harry whispered hoarsely. He staggered forward and clutched her shoulders. Why are you doing this? Why do you want to die?"
"Because, as I said, my mother doesn't love me," said Melissa in a dull voice. Harry shook his head in disbelief. "It's true, Harry. I read a diary she wrote while she was pregnant and she said she didn't want me and she'd rather lose me because I'd only be a reminder that Father died."
"Mels, it didn't have to come to this," he said in a strangled voice.
She shrugged. "It's too late, isn't it? Besides, I might find a better place." She managed a small smile. He didn't return it, only unclasping his hands and taking a step back.
A heartfelt sigh drew their attention towards the altar. The spirit king took a step forward.
"I know you want this," he said. "It's not uncommon for people to choose death in the face of things like this. But," he smiled kindly, "I know you haven't completely given up hope on your mother. You know what she wrote isn't completely true and you want to prove it." Melissa numbly nodded. "You've already offered your life and there's no undoing the enchantment. But I can prolong the moment of death until you find some proof of your mother's love. I am sure you will."
He stepped back into his former place and cupped his hands around the rings. A second passed and the king suddenly disappeared, much more quickly than he had come. There were shocked intakes of breath from all of them; then Melissa pointed at the still form of Akkarin which had remained behind.
"Look. Look!" she whispered in ecstasy.
Akkarin felt as if his limbs were weighted with lead and his head ached the way it always did when he woke up from a nightmare. In those dreams he had often called out futilely as she yet again went to Dakova. Only it was Sonea now, not his first love. He cried out again in horror as he remembered. And it felt as though he had been suspended beneath the surface of the water and was taking his first gulp of air. Then came the sound of a faraway roaring which he realized was the blood pounding in his ears. Then his nostrils were assailed with the smell of rich, damp earth and the scent of mineral water. Finally the sense of sight returned and his eyes opened to be greeted by rock needles suspended far above him.
He turned his head to the side and saw a woman, a boy and a girl staring at him. The woman was obviously Sachakan with cropped hair and pretty features. The boy had keen black eyes in a strong-jawed face. The girl...Akkarin drew in a breath. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Sonea?" he breathed.
The girl came closer and knelt beside him. Akkarin's exhilaration turned to confusion. The girl was far too young to be Sonea. She was tiny, around ten or eleven. Although she was as beautiful as Sonea, even more so, her eyes were quite different from Sonea's large brown ones. They were wide with amazement as they gazed at him now. Akkarin wondered if he was seeing things.
"Sonea?" he repeated, completely bewildered.
And it didn't help his confusion when the little girl cried "Father!", burst into hysterical sobs, and threw her arms around his neck.