That night I dreamed.
I stood alone. The world surrounding me was barren, a wasteland. Dead bodies littered the grounds where trees, flowers, and grass once all grew and thrived. The air was dusty, stale and vile. It made my nostrils burn and my stomach pitch.
There was nothing to indicate I was in danger, yet my skin prickled with unease. I could have sworn a hundred pairs of eyes watched me, stalked me, hunted me. I was the prey, and the stampede was about to begin. Survival of the fittest.
My fight or flight response kicked in as I spun in a circle, eyes sharpening and taking in every detail, searching for any signs I wasn’t alone. Barefoot, my toes sunk into the burning sand. The unpleasant sensation brought my attention to my attire. Why am I barefoot, and what the heck am I wearing?
This had to be a dream, because I would never be caught dead wearing the one-shoulder white goddess dress that floated around me as the balmy breeze picked up. The flimsy material was like silk on my skin, such a stark contrast to the world around me. Bone fragments, sand, and dust swirled in the wind, embedding in the delicate fabric and tangling in my hair.
I shoved wisps out of my face, wishing for a hair tie, and began to walk. No matter how many steps I aimlessly took or how many minutes went by, the scenery never changed. It was like strolling in a loop. My frustration grew to anxiousness, turning to a bubble of panic inside that grew at an alarming rate. I closed my eyes and squeezed my fingers together, telling myself to wake from this nightmare.
When nothing happened and the sweat was still beading over my flushed skin, there was only one option. Unable to take the solitude a moment longer, I screamed.
The release was exhilarating, and with it went my edginess, my doubt, my uncertainty. I was calm. If something was out there. Let them come. I could handle it.
I opened my eyes.
Nothing had changed, but it was as if I could see clearer. The sky was a weird orange, lacking any true sunlight, but the heat was insufferable. The windstorm waged on around me, but no longer hindering me.
“I wondered how long you would last,” a feminine voice spoke. From within the sandstorm materialized a woman with long, wavy flaxen hair. She was hard to see at first, her skin and hair blending with the sand, but as she emerged from the flurry, I was struck by her beauty. She pursed her rosebud lips. “You’re stronger than you appear.”
A goddess. It was the first thing that came to mind as I stared at the mystery woman. “I get that a lot,” I replied, sizing this newcomer up. Was she friend or foe?
Her laugh was sensual and inviting. “I’m glad to see the rapier wit hasn’t been diluted down the line.”
“Who are you?” I inquired. She chatted like we were old friends.
“Do you not recognize your own blood?” Her eyes studied my face. There was something very otherworldly about her, a glow to her skin, a familiarity I couldn’t explain. “Huh,” she commented in a way that made it sound as if she might have misjudged me at first glance.
The longer I stared at her, the better sense I got about her. There was an energy surrounding her I identified. “You’re a banshee,” I guessed.
Her facial expression changed, as if I had gravely offended her. “Not any banshee,” she said with an air of importance. “I’m the banshee. Celeste.”
I let her words soak in. “You’re the original banshee?”
She gave a small bow, her skirt flowing and rippling out behind her. “In the flesh, daughter of my daughters.”
I’d been able to converse with the dead before, Rose and Mom, but this was taking mediumship to a new level. “How is this possible?” I asked.
“Surely you know it’s part one of your gifts, to communicate with White Ravens of the past.”
I had known, but I assumed it was only banshees I knew in the world of the living, plus it never hurt to be over cautious. As far as I was concerned, anyone I didn’t know was a threat. However, I couldn’t deny a sense of kinship. “I only recently found out what I am. My abilities are just revealing themselves, but I knew it was possible to communicate with other banshees. I never expected to receive a visit from the original.”
“Ah yes, that’s right. You were brought up in the mortal world. No knowledge of who or what you are.” She brushed a piece of hair off my face, sympathy and regret shining in her emerald eyes. “And I thought I had it bad. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“What happened?” I asked, my gaze returning to the barren state of Earth.
She took a step back, spreading out her arms. “This, my daughter, is a warning, a premonition, if you will, of things to come if you do not seal the wards between realms. Your world will fall prey to the dead, and in the process no longer exist. No mankind. No life. No reapers. Only death for all.”
Talk about a Debbie Downer. Celeste didn’t sugarcoat it; she laid it all out there. This was what we had to look forward to. Death. Destruction. Desolation. Doom. If there was even a sliver of a chance that this could be our future, I had to stop it. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. This couldn’t be the future outcome of my world. “How do I prevent this?” I mean, there had to be a reason she appeared to me in a dream. To help me, right?
In the back of my mind, a voice was telling me that would be too easy. Saving the world was rarely ever that simple. I wanted to tell that little annoying voice to jump off a bridge.
“If only I could tell you what must be done. It is forbidden by the laws of nature for the past to interfere. I can tell you restoring the veil will take a great sacrifice just as it does to remove it, but the sacrifice is different for each. Mine would not be the same as yours.”
What a relief. I wasn’t willing to turn Zane into a hallow, as I suspected Heath had done with his daughter. But what did I have to sacrifice if not love? I couldn’t believe that was all she had. Her information was basically useless. “There has to be a way,” I insisted, refusing to wake up without something tangible. “Tell me what I must sacrifice? My firstborn child? What does the universe want?”
Celeste was petite like me, but the fact that she floated gave her an inch two over me. “You know it is never that easy. Power doesn’t come without a price. It is your blood that makes you capable of this trying task.” Death knocked. But there was no one home. Earth was no longer a place for the living.
“I’ve given up my entire life. My mom. The father I grew up with. A friend. Rose. What did I have left? Nothing about being a banshee has been easy,” I grumbled. Didn’t I deserve a break before I cracked?
Pressure escalated in my chest, almost to the point of unbearable. I was having something worse than a panic attack, and all I could think was this was entirely my fault.
“Don’t fret. You have what many of us never did.”
“What’s that? Foolishness?” I was feeling particularly snarky.
She laughed. “I was talking about the death reaper, the other half of your soul.”
My chin lifted at the mention of Zane.
“He offers you love, power, and courage. You will need all to defeat what is to come,” she said softly.
Those were things I already knew. I was stronger with Zane. He had an aura about him that made me think I could do anything, even save the world. Chill bumps flew across my skin, and I grew cold. “What’s out there?” I asked.
Her eyes followed mine beyond the horizon. “A graveyard. No hope. No happiness. No laughter. Nothing of life. Can you sense it?”
I nodded.
Tears glittered in her bright green eyes. “The ground is littered with the blood of millions and the tears of a million more. You might be feeling dejected and desperate, but Piper, daughter of my daughters, you have the strength to restore not only the veil, but also the broken order. I believe in you.”