Carpathian 18 - Dark Possesion

his spirit had arrived, most turned away with a quick gesture toward the meadow, yet now the inhabitants seemed to accept him. As he moved closer to his destination, he felt an easiness spreading and realized that when he had arrived the first time, his spirit had been dark, close to turning, so close that even within the land of the dead, he had been considered closer to vampire than to hunter. The atmosphere around the meadow hadn't bothered him and he had instinctively sought it out. Now his spirit must appear brighter, more normal.
    The growing stain across his soul had receded because of MaryAnn. He owed her more even than he had known.
    He came to the meadow and halted, staring out over the expanse of sinkholes and shifting soil. It looked like a spongy marsh, and when he put his foot on it in experimentation, he sank to his ankle. His body had no real weight here, so the reaction made no sense. He hesitated, studying the barren land. Only a few scattered weeds and thistles grew in the center of the marsh. Dark reeds lined the edges, bent like old straws. Steam rose from vent holes, and minerals of all colors—dim, not bright—rimmed boiling mud ponds. The sludge quivered and popped, splattering large, dark spots of oozing mud and adding to the rising steam.
    The mist lay heavy over the meadow, a gray-green vapor that reeked of sulfur. He stood for a time studying the rising plumes of hot gases and wondering why it had been so easy to cross it on his first visit.
    "You look lost, Manolito." A voice greeted him from behind.
    Manolito spun around and found himself face-to-face with Vlad Dubrinsky. Emotion welled up sharp and fast, a piercing shock that threatened to shake his confidence. Joy. Guilt. Shame. Amazement. Pride. Vlad Dubrinsky had been more than a prince to him. When their own father had chosen to follow his lifemate into death, Vlad had stepped in to fill the gulf left by the death of their parents. He'd guided Manolito and his brothers, mentored them, respected their counsel. Yet, in the end, they had repudiated him for trying to save his son when he knew there was no hope.
    "My prince. I did not expect to find you in such a place."
    Vlad stepped forward and gripped his forearms in the timeless greeting of respect between warriors. "It is good to see you, old friend."
    "I do not understand how you can be in this place."
    Vlad's eyebrow shot up. "You do not? This is where we wait between worlds, Manolito."
    "Wait for what? I came here and found only condemnation. Accusations. Invitations to join the undead."
    "You are not quite spirit, yet not quite one with your body."
    "I was killed, yet my brothers held my spirit to earth. Gregori went down the tree of life to retrieve me, but I woke too soon. My spirit and body had not yet had time to meld together, so I walk in both lands."
    Vlad gestured across the meadow. "You do not belong with the vampires. I can see by your spirit you have not succumbed to our darker nature."
    "I was close. Too close."
    "You do not want to go to their resting ground. They cannot kill you, but they have devised ways to torture and drive the spirit mad. They cannot leave this place without accepting their own guilt, yet they will not.
    They blame everyone around them. I suspect many would like to get their teeth into you. Come with me to the campfire of warriors. We will once again talk."
    "My body is vulnerable in the other world, Vlad, and there are conspiracies I have to uncover in order to keep our people safe. I believe Maxim is raising an army of the dead and hopes to find a portal from this land to the living."
    Vlad stopped moving to frown at him, then shook his head. "I should have guessed he would be up to no good. Come. It is a small way and we might be of use to you. In any case, Sarantha will want to see you.
    Give us news and let us give you aid."
    "I still do not understand how you can be here, waiting for judgment. You were never close to turning. You served our people with honor."
    "Do you believe, after all this time, that I never made mistakes, Manolito? I made many. I tried to do my best, but like any man, I had my failings. You should know that better than most. I tried to save my eldest son at a cost to many others. Was that a wise decision? Or even a fair one?"
    "You could not have known what would happen."
    "Of course I knew. I did not want to believe it, but I had the gift of precognition. I knew, yet I set the course because I could not bear to