The Weight of Souls

I looked back once. The old guy had removed his hat. He was hitting Justin with it and tears were streaming down his face.

Bloody dead people.

16 THE HOUSE IS CURSED

When I got home the study was shut tight. The Book of Oh-Fa however, was sitting on the dining room table. I bit my lip, but the temptation was too strong to ignore. Swiftly I grabbed it, stuffed it under my top and, with the pressure of the ancient leather on my skin, I tiptoed upstairs.

Once in my room I leaned against the door. There I stuck my tingling hand behind my back. It was too tempting to just keep looking at it, like picking a scab.

Under the bed the shadows pulsed. I slammed the lights on, all of them. A long time ago Mum had installed a bulb under my bed. Now there was no part of my room that wasn’t brightly lit.

I exhaled heavily. I had less than two weeks before the Darkness came for me and I had no idea what had really happened to Justin and who I should be Marking.

Swearing under my breath I crossed to the window. As I passed the dresser I automatically stroked my picture-board of Mum. My fingertips caressed a snippet of her favourite jumper, her old hair band, a silky piece of the skirt I had most liked her in. My fingers bumped over her turquoise beads and lingered on the three photos: one of her smiling over her shoulder, one where she looked sad and serious and hid her gloved hand behind her back, one of her holding a baby – me. In that one her eyes were half-closed and her expression unreadable, but her bare hands were curled around my back as if I was the most precious thing in the whole world and might break.

Her book pressed against my stomach. I tugged it free of my waistband and opened it with reverent fingers. I closed my eyes to bring her voice to mind then started to read.

Entry the fifth

My hand shakes as I write this, trembling so hard that I can barely make sense. The Professor paces outside and his demands have become increasingly urgent. Perhaps his gun is trained on me even now. Still, I cannot move without finishing this, my family needs to know what happened.

If only there was a way to beg my child’s forgiveness. Even if I make it home now, I do not deserve to look upon the faces of my family.

The sack of blood money at my feet is not compensation. How could I think it would ever be enough?

Perhaps I should let the Professor shoot me.

It began when I returned to the hole in the ground, a moment that already seems a lifetime ago.

Despite the queue of lantern bearers who had entered the tomb ahead of me, a preternatural darkness still covered every step below the sixth. Miserably I sought the Professor. The glare of the sun on his small round spectacles erased his eyes as he gestured me downwards.

On the fifth step I caught up with the man in front. Like lovers entering an icy sea we felt together with our toes. Step-by-step we descended and the tide of dark rose first to our thighs, then our chests. My bare legs prickled with cold then the darkness enveloped my head.

My lantern revealed walls decorated floor to ceiling with hieroglyphs. As I wondered what ancient curses surrounded us, we rounded a corner to find a large antechamber, riddled with tunnels like black mouths. In the centre the overseers were waiting to take the light.

“We’re setting up base there.” Sunbird indicated the lanterns already clustered by the far wall. “Stay out of the way until you’re needed.”

I followed the muted speech of my fellows, stumbling blindly towards the noise until I thumped into another of the men. I ignored his curse and wriggled into a space to try and meditate.

I should have fled.

There was a shout outside and I almost dropped the book. “Taylor Oh!”

I opened my window and leaned into the air. Justin was standing on the street, hands cupped round his mouth. “I can’t get in.”

A secret smile touched my lips.

Of course he couldn’t.

“I’ll come and get you.” As I passed the dresser I put the book down carefully and looked, not at Mum this time, but in the mirror. Something made me pick up my hairbrush. Swiftly I dragged it through my hair, shaking it out over my shoulders. Then I opened my bedroom door, sucked in a breath at the sight of the dimly-lit hallway and sped as stealthily as possible to the vestibule.

I opened the door and peered out. Justin stood at the top of the steps. “I tried to walk through the door, but it’s solid. Don’t tell me your front door’s cursed too.” He sounded grumpy and tired and I couldn’t help smiling as he tried to walk past. “Ow.” He rebounded onto the pavement and rubbed his shoulder. “I don't understand; there’s nothing there.”

I rubbed my palm on my jeans. “I’m not sure if this’ll work but we can try. Here, you’ll have to take my hand.” My lip curled as I held my arm out to him.

Justin looked at it. “You don’t mind?”

“It’s the only way you’re getting in.”

I braced myself for the familiar hateful jolt, but when Justin’s fingers wrapped around mine they just felt dry and cool; no electric ice.

I walked backwards, Justin walked gingerly forwards and he was in.

As he passed the front door he shuddered and dropped my hand. “What was that? It was horrible, like walking through jelly.”

I checked behind me. Dad’s door was still shut. “Actually, you were right,” I whispered. “The house is cursed – Mum did it. She found these hieroglyphs a few years ago. They used to put them on Egyptian tombs to stop the ghosts of the pharaohs’ servants from escaping. She figured if it stopped ghosts from getting out of a stone pyramid, it might stop them from getting into a stone house. They’re engraved right there, under the ivy.”

“So I’m the first ghost that’s been in here.” He sounded impressed.

I nodded. “For a while.” I gestured towards the stairs. “Come to my room, dead boy.”

“Taylor, is that you?”

Automatically I panicked and looked at Justin; but of course Dad wouldn’t see him.

The study opened and he rolled into view. He looked exhausted.

“Are you alright, Dad?”

“I'd be better if I hadn't had a call from the school today, asking why you've hardly been in class this week.”

I flushed and stammered, caught without an excuse.

“I told them you were ill.” He rubbed a big hand over his eyes. “At least I didn't have to lie.”

“I'm sorry.”

“The only thing I can think to do for you is find a cure, but...”

“What?” My arms prickled with terrified apprehension. Was he going to send me away after all?

“I'm failing you, Taylor, and I don't know how much longer we can go on like this.”

All I could do was repeat myself, but the apology sounded hollow even to me.