Page 49 of After Life
“I’ve never had experience with a spirit like you,” I said. “Only... the dead.”
The other Wreckers moved forward as one, the shapes coalescing into one shadow before flattening, spreading out and becoming people—or appearing like people. A half dozen stood in a semi-circle before me, vague of feature and form, shining with the white of that light that had been dogging me. “We’re one and the same,” the Wrecker closest to me murmured. “Spirits of land, of flesh, we’re all the same. The vessel changes, but we do not.”
I blinked, stifling the urge to laugh with nervous energy. “Is that so? I’ve never heard that. I was under the impression the two things were different.”
“Why should we be?” they said, gesturing at their cohort. “We’ve been part of the ether for longer than we weren’t. It was our decision, long ago, to stay, to become part of the world rather than leave it.”
The library seemed solid enough, real enough. I reached out to touch the spines of the nearest books, the memory of the smooth leather making my incorporeal fingers tingle. “Why the ships? That’s you, isn’t it? The ships?”
They nodded, then paused. “Some of us,” they said. “I think... most of us.” They turned toward another of their group and a silent communication passed. “Some of us have been there far longer. Created, perhaps? Or just so long gone that it is impossible to differentiate our existence from our departure.”
“I’m not dead. Why am I here?”
“Because you came into the light, crossed the veil,” they said patiently. “Some living might see hints of it, perhaps a faint shimmer here or there. And many humans can see spirits, communicate with some of us.”
Another of the Wreckers spoke then, their voices like soft bells over the rush of seawater. “But you’re closer than most. You’re already on the precipice between the two states of beings.” They lifted their hands, moving them as if weighing something. “Life, and death. It is part of you, more than in others we’ve seen.”
“Is that why I’m able—”
“In part,” the first one cut me off. “But others are able, too. You, though. You’re closer to us than others. It’s strange.”
I realized, belatedly, their mouths weren’t moving as they spoke. “Is this what happens when we die?” I whispered, something pulling on me, making me want to move, to fold in on myself. My but the gravity is heavy out today... “The light I saw, that I keep seeing... If I were truly dead, when I entered it—”
“No,” the first one murmured. “It is different for all. Your spirit is only one part of your being but it is a secret part, even from the rest of you. Your ideas of the afterlife are small. Crossing into the light doesn’t remove you from the world of the living. It merely changes your perspective. Your accessibility.”
The second one seemed to nod. “Death is part of you, Oscar Fellowes. It is tangled into your very spirit. Not because you are a medium, though it is likely why you are such a prolific one. It is something else. It makes you more like the ghosts you speak to than not.”
“What?” I jerked back at that notion. “I’m nothing like a ghost. I’m... Well, on a good day, I’m not having this conversation while my body is on a beach in a hurricane. But I’m definitely not dead enough to be a ghost.”
The first Wrecker laughed, raspy paper over rough stone. “Think of it as a puzzle, Oscar. A puzzle for you to sort out before you run out of time.” They were shifting again, pulling apart to become their spidery selves. Conversation over.
“Wait!”
They paused and the first one moved back into the human shape. “How do I fix this?”
They shook their head. “We’ve witnessed this for over four centuries, Oscar. A blink in our existence but a seemingly unending span for the living. When the first of them called to us, we were curious. Those of us who were there, that is.” A soft rattle of chuckles raced through the Wreckers at that. “We aren’t gods. We aren’t all-seeing. We are merely very old.”
I teased out the memory threatening to hide away from me. “Julian... The book he found. It said people summoned you to help them? When they lost someone... They were raising the spirits of the dead. And calling on you to assist them?”
The first one shook their head. “No. Not like that. We have been called by them, but what they do has nothing to do with us. We’re not magical beings, Oscar,” they chided gently. “But that doesn’t mean the abilities they’re using do not exist. Much like yours run in your family, and Ezra’s in his.”
“Ezra,” I murmured, a faint pang of longing unfolding in my chest. “How do you know him?”
“You spoke of him, with Julian.” They tilted their head, spreading their hands wide. “We’re tied to the island, Oscar. We’re part of everything there, even when we’re quiet, when we’re visiting our resting places, or just in the light of the ether. Your strangeness called to us, and we were curious.”
“So you eavesdropped?”
“As you say.”
The light began to brighten. I was leaving again, or maybe they were leaving me. “Wait, why are you here? With me, specifically,” I added. “Just to tell me you’re not the one helping the islanders do what they’re doing?”
They regarded me with a cool, lengthy silence. The second one finally spoke. “In all of my time in the light, as a Wrecker to use the islanders term for us, I have never seen one like you. The very fact you survived what they did is singular.”
“Others haven’t,” I muttered, a statement rather than a question.
“Just so. You’re curious, in many senses of the word, Oscar Fellowes. And you may not remember anything about us when you return, if you return—”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
