Phantom Recall

41 || heart of the storm

As much as I'd love to stick around and explain the whole story to him, I don't have the time. So I leave Leon with those parting words, spinning around furiously to race back into the house I had raided just minutes ago to look up Emily's name on the internet.

I don't know where Fairview Burial Grounds are. They could be a few miles from here, or halfway across the city. But it's the best chance I've got right now. And I'm willing to run myself into the ground just for that chance.

According to the helpful map provided upon looking up directions, the estimated time to arrive on foot is forty-five minutes. Realistically, I know it could have been a lot worse, but it still makes my heart sink to see that number appear. Forty-five minutes — maybe a bit less if I were to run the whole way, but regardless, could Iver last that long?

No, I have to have faith in him, I tell myself. He's held on for this long, hasn't he? That has to mean something. Testament to his own willpower, his own determination not to let go of his humanity. Because Leon's wrong about one thing — Iver isn't a monster. And that's a hill I'd be willing to die on. It doesn't matter if Leon nor Iver understands. Even I'm not sure why. This force that compels me, like some guiding hand of a spirit far more knowledgeable than I could ever hope to be.

If I don't at least try, it tells me, I'll never be able to enjoy peace. If I just walk away from this.

As much as my brain can handle, I try to cram a mental image of the cemetery's location and hope that it will be enough. It has to be. I don't have a phone, I can't snap a picture or use gps — my options are so painfully limited. The only ace I may have up my sleeve is the ability to trace a spirit by their aura alone. Except I don't know Emily's aura. I don't know anything about her, in fact, save what she looks like thanks to the photo included in that internet article.

But her name being written on my neck...though the thought still uneases me slightly, it must mean something. Deep in my chest, an unreachable itch that could only be scratched by speaking to her. Had I met her in my waking life, too, I wonder. Had we already spoken?

Question after question spin and toil in my head as I set my uncertain course for Fairview Burial Grounds. And as I pass by Leon on my way out, I make sure to give him one last stern look before taking off again. It may be foolish but I trust him for a moment. He cares for Iver in one way or another...I know he doesn't really want to hurt him. So perhaps, with that loving desire, he'll find out for himself the extent of genuine mercy.

I summon every ounce of strength in my body to tear through the quiet streets. Scanning street signs, drinking up every inch of what I see, every building and store I recall by name from the map I pored over. But that mental image is slipping fast. I already know this area so little. Grasping at straws would only get me so far. Trusting my own instincts...will only get me so far.

The sky is growing darker already. I didn't think it was possible. But in my bones I feel a storm's approach, a steady and frightful thing that I fear is born of Iver's heart. It's a repeat of Takashi, a voice in my head chimes. Should the clouds cover the moon and the rains begin to fall, those vines that had sprouted from the cracks in the earth may soon sprout again — or perhaps something different, something worse. There's too much uncertainty. Too much riding on my shoulders which still ache from when Iver had slammed me into the ground.

But somehow, I find the slightest ray of hope in that. Very few things in life are set in stone, a spirit once told me. And things can change at the drop of a pin, too. Right now I hold the pin in my hands.

Just waiting, anxiously waiting to pass it over to Emily. I tell myself this with each stride I take towards my destination, as my conscience spites me and writes my actions off as a desperate and cowardly flee from danger. But I'm no good as I am, I argue. Iver doesn't want me. He needs someone like her, someone who knows the inner workings of his spirit's sorrowing heart. If my sole duty in this ordeal is to be Emily Walker's escort to her missing half, then so be it. I could live with that.