Chapter 26: The Girl Who Became Death
Burgess, Pennsylvania
Jamie Bennett awoke in his bed with a start. A glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it a few hours after midnight. He shivered violently, feeling like he was slowly freezing from the inside out. Even after his tooth box had returned to the Tooth Palace, he kept having the same dream over and over again, where he met the Jack-not-Jack in his room for the first time.
There was no medical explanation for the cold coursing through his veins, but he'd still missed two days of school because he felt sick and constantly chilled to the bone. Over the past couple of days while his mom was at work and Sophie at school, the teen had allowed himself to wonder about what really happened to him that night at the North Pole when his eyes had glowed. Nothing about it made sense, but Jamie didn't like thinking about that night for too long anyway.
Not wanting to move from his slightly warm spot in bed but desperately needing to get more blankets, Jamie reached out a hand from beneath his covers and blindly felt around his nightstand for the lamp. His hand accidentally knocked something heavy off the nightstand and it shattered on the floor with the distinct sound of breaking glass. At that, the boy sat up and used both hands to find the lamp, frantically turning it on to see what he'd broken. Squinting his eyes against the lamp light, Jamie found shards of glass scattered across the floor, all the remains of a cup that he kept on his nightstand. Belatedly, he remembered filling the cup with water the night before.
As his eyes grew more used to the bright light from the lamp, he realized that there were also small chunks of ice among the glass shards.
"What the…" The boy trailed off, suddenly looking around his room for a certain winter spirit. Why else would there be ice all over the floor of his room? But of course, there was no one else in the room.
Jamie slipped out his bed, shivering in his pajamas despite the warm night air that came in through his open window. He carefully tiptoed over shards of glass to get a better look at the ice, now melting on the wood floor. Slowly bending down so he wouldn't lose his balance, the believer picked up one of the pieces of ice.
It started out no bigger than a pea, but the moment the ice touched his hands it began to grow; new layers of ice formed around the original piece with a faint crackle. A bitter cold feeling rushed through Jamie again, beginning with the hand holding the now-golf ball sized sphere of ice. He dropped the ice in surprise. It rolled across the floor and under his bed.
'What is going on?' He wondered, staring at the dark space under his bed where the ball of ice had disappeared. Placing a steadying hand on the side of his bed, the confused boy was about to stand up and get a broom to sweep up the broken glass when another wave of bitter cold swept through him and he found that he could barely force his fingers to grip the bed cover, as he climbed back into bed and curled up with the covers pulled tightly around him. The cold flashes had never been this bad before—not that he'd told his mom they had gotten worse over the last two days.
The broken glass could wait.
Jamie had almost fallen back asleep when he suddenly heard a soft sound emanate from somewhere across the room. It was the sound of a book being opened, and pages slowly being turned. A jolt of fear raced through him, and his entire body tensed as he listened for further movement. If it was Chaos, or Hell, or Dark…
In an instant, Jamie came to a decision. He shoved aside his covers and leapt to his feet to face the intruder.
"Is this yours?" A young woman, who appeared to be no older than twenty, stood at the end of his bed, flipping idly through Jamie's world history textbook which she held in her hands.
Jamie found it hard to answer, his response dying in his throat the longer he stared at the woman.
She was beautiful, with lightly tanned skin, gold and amber bangles stacked from her wrists to halfway up her slim forearms, and a black floor-length dress that sparkled with a mysterious light—like the night sky on a particularly clear evening—despite it being a new moon night. The style of her clothing seemed to change constantly. First it looked like a present-day form fitting gown, complete with a semi-revealing pattern cut into the sides. Then it was the simple, modest dress of a medieval peasant woman. Next it became a beautiful gold-lined Indian sari (which Jamie recognized due to his middle school's annual World Cultures Day.) Black hair flowed down her back to her waist in gentle waves, held back from her face by two small side braids that were held together at the back of her head by a small amber pin in the shape of a lotus flower.
"Um, what was the question?" Jamie had to force himself to stop staring at the woman, who was definitely a spirit of some kind.
The woman looked up from the world history textbook to smile kindly at him, like she was used to people being rendered speechless in her presence. It was then that Jamie realized it wasn't just her dress that constantly changed. Like Father Time, her entire being seemed to shift through a multitude of forms, but unlike with Tempus, staring directly into the woman's dark blue eyes was like staring into the eyes and souls of a thousand different people at once. She also appeared to be semi-translucent, her form occasionally flickering in and out of existence in a ghost-like manner.
With a sigh, the spirit closed the textbook and set it down on the chest of drawers at the end of the bed. "Here's your book back, Jamie. A fascinating presentation of human civilization, although I found the section on Mesopotamia slightly lacking."
"How did you get my book? Who are you?" Jamie was finally able to blurt out two of his many questions, nervously shifting his footing on the bed. The woman blinked slowly, and when her piercing cobalt gaze met Jamie's again, he saw his life flash before his eyes in the span of a single second.
"I am Death," she answered. "I am only seen when I need to be seen, want to be seen, or by the dead, the dying, and the living who have come close to entering my domain. In the end, everyone comes to know me."
Death.
Just the word, the name, and the implications of such a spirit's existence made a chill go up Jamie's spine. He resisted the strong temptation to run away from her as fast as he could. Instead, he took a couple of shaky breaths before daring to ask, "And which of those reasons is letting me see you now?"
"It's not you I came here for," Death responded, calmly shaking her head.
"Then why are you here? Not to be rude or anything. I just—I thought you were Chaos." Jamie started shivering again, and he crossed his arms, wishing that he could be warmer while having a slightly terrifying conversation with the spirit of death.
Death didn't answer him right away. Instead, she looked over at the glass shards on the floor next to Jamie's bed, and with one wave of her hand, the shards disappeared, leaving only small puddles water and half-melted pieces of ice behind. "I'm here because a soul that should have entered my domain two nights ago has not arrived." She said eventually.
"One guess which soul that is. I know Jack's dead, you don't have remind me." Jamie said bitterly.
"Jamie, it's almost impossible for an immortal to die in the same way mortals do. That's why I'm here. There is much more to Jack Frost than the rest of the spirits ever realized, things that were hidden from everyone, including himself. But I think you know what I'm talking about. You've realized part of who he really is, haven't you."
Jamie got the feeling Death was trying to lead him to some kind of important realization. A part of him protested that it was the middle of the night, and he was too tired and cold to think that hard, but he grudgingly went along with it (she was Death, what could he do in the face of her potential power?) "I guess," the teen conceded.
"Do you not dream every night of your first meeting with the Guardian of Fun?" Death prompted.
"Well yeah, but—"
"But it's not the Jack you know, is it?"
"It wasn't exactly him, no. But if you know all this, why are you asking me?" asked Jamie. If Death was on Chaos' side, he wanted to know it sooner than later.
As if she could read his thoughts, Death said, "As the spirit of death, I am bound to remain neutral in all conflicts. Do not fear, I'm not working for Chaos."
Jamie let out a breath of relief. "Great," he replied, not sure what else to say.
"I asked about your dreams because I needed to confirm what I believe happened to Jack Frost the moment Chaos returned." Death stated. Jamie stared incredulously at her, so she quickly elaborated. "Chaos needs a physical body to channel its destructive powers. Immortal spirits can withstand much more magical force than regular mortals, so it obviously wanted to possess a spirit's body. In doing so, the soul would be separated from the body, rendering that body a perfect vessel for Chaos' use."
Jamie couldn't help but feel way out of his depth. Souls separated from bodies, possession…it sounded like something out of a horror movie. A faint crackling sound came from beneath his feet, and he looked down, wondering if he'd stepped on a stray piece of glass after all.
Tendrils of frost were spreading out from his bare feet across the bed cover and the headboard, and sparkling ice crystals were forming spiraling designs on the wall behind his bed. The further the frost grew out from where he stood, the colder Jamie became. As he fell to his knees, unable to keep from hunching over as the cold overcame every other feeling and thought he had. Death stepped closer to him and placed a warm hand on his shoulder as tendrils of frost slowly crept up his pajama shirt sleeves and pant legs.
"I know what happened to Jack now. I can help you, and take away the cold."
"What do you mean?" Jamie panted, his breath coming fast and shallow from fear and the cold. Despite the deep pain that came from ice literally growing on his skin, he knew better than to blindly agree to what a mysterious spirit wanted him to do.
"When Jack's soul was forced out his body by Chaos, it was accidentally shattered. Part of his life force was used to break Dark out of the from the prison I contained him in. Part of his soul tried to make its way to my domain, but it can't because part of him needs to to protect you the only way his soul knows-"
"-Alright, okay, so what now?" Jamie interrupted her, desperate for the cold and ice to go away.
"Part of his soul attached itself to you, Jamie. By doing so, he gave his magic to you. But mortals aren't meant to hold that much power. That's why you've felt so cold. I can fix this if you let me remove your fragment of Jack's soul."
If Death was telling the truth, then there were many reasons Jamie didn't want to give up the only part of Jack he had left. But the magic inside him was also unbearably cold, so cold that he feared it might freeze him completely from the inside out.
"What will happen to Jack's soul?" He asked. It was becoming difficult to speak, as his face was going numb from the cold.
"It's hard to tell yet. Whatever it meant to happen will happen." Death said. Then she lay her other hand on the top of his head began to whisper in an language that Jamie couldn't even begin to understand.
At first he grew colder, as if Jack's soul and his winter magic didn't want to leave.
Then, after what felt like hours or days, Jamie finally felt warmth creeping back into his body.
When Jamie was able to sit up on his bed again, it was to find Death watching him with a mixture of dread and hope in her eyes. It was an odd combination. The believer didn't think he'd ever seen someone so sad and hopeful at the same time. In her hands she held a glowing blue crystal that pulsed with light every few seconds.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," Death said quietly.
Jamie shrugged, his eyes and attention fixed on the glowing blue crystal.
Death held the crystal up for Jamie to see better. "Those you love may leave this world behind, but Jack will never be truly gone. That I know for a fact. There may yet be a way to finally stop Chaos for good."
"You talk about Jack and Chaos as if you know them, or knew them," Jamie said, curious as to why a spirit he had never heard of before knew so much about Chaos and the Guardian of Fun.
"I do know them," Death looked away from Jamie, her hands closing tightly over the crystal. She clearly didn't want to talk more about this topic, but continued for the believers sake. "I watch many souls enter my domain. Some choose to stay there, others choose to venture to other worlds, and a select few leave my domain and return to life. Some return to the life they left behind because it wasn't their time to die. But others, a small handful of rare souls, they choose to be reborn in a new life. That is how I know Jack Frost's soul."
Jamie almost couldn't believe what he was hearing—but then again he was friends with many magical, immortal spirits and creatures (even the elves liked him) so who was he to judge what could be "real" or not.
"So," he began, struggling to find the right words for what he wanted to say, "you're telling me that Jack used to be the person I keep seeing in my dream."
Death smiled at the 13 year-old, nodding gently. "I knew you'd get it, Jamie. I've heard from a particularly reliable source that you're one smart kid."
Jamie could practically hear Jack's voice in the way Death spoke the last few words. "What was his name? Before, I mean?" He asked, lowering his voice to a whisper as he heard Sophie's door creak open and her sleepy shuffle to the bathroom down the hall.
"Nightlight," Death whispered. The crystal in her hand shone brighter than ever before for a few moments. "His name once struck fear in Pitch Black's own heart, and brought light to children everywhere. There is much to be said about him, and I'm afraid there is not enough time right now to tell you all of it. Chaos has already started looking for me. I have done what I can, but I am not allowed to interfere much further."
"Why is he looking for you? Wait, please don't go yet, I still have a lot of questions!" Jamie quickly hopped off his bed. He walked closer to Death, wishing he could go with her to see his best friend again.
"The embodiments of suffering and illusion that you know as Hell and Dark were once my brothers." Death admitted.
"Wait, what?! But you're not evil…right?"
Death laughed softly. "No Jamie, I actively avoid being anything close to evil. But like Pitch Black and my brothers, I am a product of Chaos's wrath. As he transformed me into what I am now, I was able to break free of his control."
"That's possible?"
Death nodded. "With great pain and sacrifice, yes." Then she turned back to look Jamie directly in the eye. "I will do what little I can to help you and the other spirits stop Chaos, and my brothers. But you must promise me that you will not go looking for them. They will do what they have always done, but promise me you will remember Jack, remember Nightlight, and remember all that they stood for. And teach others to do the same. There will be dark times ahead before the light returns."
Jamie nodded, once again speechless before her. Death stepped back from him, ready to leave. At the last minute, Jamie asked one last burning question. "Will I ever be able to see him again?" He gestured at the glowing crystal in the spirit's hands.
"I think you will, when the light returns." Death let Jamie see the crystal in her palm one last time before adding, "And if Chaos should attack you directly, here or anywhere else, read what has been written next to the illustration of the hanging gardens of Babylon in chapter one of your textbook. I'm sure you'll find it very… informative."
And then Death was gone, fading away into the shadows of Jamie's room as soundlessly as she had arrived.
On the short dresser at the end of Jamie's bed, his world history textbook now lay open to the beginning of the first chapter, which Jamie knew was about the origins of human civilization. Upon closer inspection, he could see a faint magical shimmer around the word "Mesopotamia".
Whatever happened in the future, he got the feeling it would be very interesting.