Caged by Damnation (Caged #2)(11)

Izzy's temper dissipated and Savannah sank to her knees beside me. I looked up at them, noting again how lucky I was to have them, but then I remembered I would only have temporary custody from now on.

"I'm sorry, Willow,” said Izzy. “I know you don't have a choice. I can be a jerk sometimes. We all know that." Izzy came forward solidly and took my hand. "Here, why don't you pinch or slap me? Letting out some steam might be a good idea." She shrugged. "I'm dead anyway. It won't hurt."

Laughing, I pushed her away, but her words seemed to echo against the walls of my skull. She was still dead. Death had promised he would give back her life. Why wasn't he keeping up his end of the bargain?

I spent most of the sleepover thinking about the clichés involving bargains with Death. I couldn't help but remember that he was known for trickery. Ancient myths spoke of people who had made deals they thought were good, only to discover that Death interpreted it differently. Did this mean that I had somehow made things worse? How could giving life to someone be construed differently? Life was life and death was death. They were solid terms and I couldn't imagine them meaning something else. But what if they could?



Savannah's Journal

The entire sleepover was awkward. Willow would be leaving soon, and Izzy and I grew further apart every day. To make matters worse, I desperately wanted to be there for Willow and make the night memorable, but throughout the evening I was easily startled. I couldn't even look in the mirror without remembering my reflection in the glass of my vision, and the gruesome mouth that had attempted to trap me in its jaws.

I replayed the vision in my mind over and over again. Each repetition allowed me to notice aspects that had slipped my notice before. However, I couldn't be sure if they were truly there or figments of my imagination. Could my mind be creating new aspects to my vision to fill in the gaps? Kit's presence in my mind was the one thing keeping me sane.

I was constantly surprised at the events in my life that I had overcome. I supposed my childhood had prepared me for a life of agony, loss, and confusion. I had never been the type of girl to lean on others. Instead, I carried my loved ones around me, lifting them up through life's difficulties. But that meant I still felt alone. Even now.

Kit was brushing against my thoughts the way a domestic cat would against their human’s heels. It was a sign of affection and a reminder that I would never be alone again. He would remain a part of me, always.



SAVANNAH

The phantom of guilt lingered throughout the sleepover. Its hand clenched at the back of my neck, causing tension that spread through my body, and pain that radiated against my skull. I knew this was Willow's last night as a free witch, but I couldn't throw myself into a typical teenage sleepover with so much stress weighing me down. I was worried about her, but I also couldn't help considering my precarious mental state.

Josephine had told me that my vision had been a form of divination coupled with astral projection. However, the events I’d experienced during the vision concerned me. Not only had I seen Asmodeus, but I was fairly certain that I hadn't slept through the entire time in the place of Divine Energy. I couldn't remember much after falling asleep beside the water, but memories teased at the peripheral vision of my mind. The tantalizing sense that something was missing wouldn't lessen. I felt like an old woman whose long term memory remained intact, but whose short term memory had been stripped away.

Our placating gaiety continued throughout the night, until we settled in to sleep. I wasn't the only one who was distracted. Willow seemed lost in her own thoughts; her eyes had fastened onto Izzy the moment our sleepover began and remained until Izzy's form dissipated into a hazy mist.

As a ghost, Izzy didn't have a need for sleep, but she chose to fade during the night. She found it lonely to drift by, watching her loved ones rest, while she would spend eternity as a restless ghost. Izzy had never been one to wallow in self-pity, but as days went by she had begun to long for a true death.

A few weeks ago, I’d found Izzy sobbing in my bedroom. Her tears were not similar to those of the living, but instead created a dry ice effect that turned my room into an eerie dungeon. She spoke aloud what everyone else had wondered, but had been afraid to ask: why did she remain a ghost while everyone else moved into the afterlife? Why did Death insist on taking Ash, but not have a care for her continued haunting? I hadn't been able to answer those questions in my own mind, much less for Izzy. Instead, I told her something Maye had told me as a child, shortly after I came to live with her.

Life is filled with unanswered questions, but it is the courage to seek those answers that continues to give meaning to life. You can spend your life wallowing in despair, wondering why you were the one who was led towards the road strewn with pain, or you can be grateful that you were strong enough to survive it.

Izzy had taken those words to heart, deciding that she must still have a purpose, and that her road wasn't meant to end here. Yes, she was dead, but she was still able to connect with the world. She could still touch flesh and change the course of fate, which meant that she had been given a gift. Unlike the others, she didn't have to leave behind her loved ones, knowing that they needed her. Izzy was certain that her purpose was to protect the people she loved, and since that epiphany, she had greeted each day a bit more like her old self.

Forgotten images drifted in and out of sight during my restless night. A faded memory of something soft and soothing carried a feeling of safety until waves of silence lulled me to sleep. I awoke a few times during the night, hearing Willow's delicate sobs, but forced myself to let her be when I really wanted to alleviate her pain. I knew that this was something she needed to face alone. She wanted to be strong and couldn't risk leaning on others when she was about to be torn from them.