Free The Eternal Tomb by Kevin Emerson

negative looking the same.
    â€œAnd now for the Portal.” What Emalie placed in the circle next caused a small ache in Oliver. It was the browned newspaper clipping from the night of Oliver’s siring and his human parents’ alleged death, with the title: Christmas Tragedy. Bane had kept this, along with other clippings and trinkets, at the grave of his own human parents.
    â€œYou sure it’s ready?” Oliver asked.
    Emalie nodded seriously. “I’m pretty sure the clipping is now a portal to the night you died.”
    â€œPretty sure?” asked Dean.
    â€œIt was the best object to use, ’cause it was created so close to the actual date,” Emalie explained. “Its natural properties didn’t need much changing. And yeah, I mean, my aunt and I followed the steps. Now we just need to activate it.” Emalie removed a small, yellow object from her pocket. It was thin, curved, and Oliver realized it was a fingernail.
    â€œIt was a little awkward getting this from Chronius,” said Emalie, “but it should work. I just have to melt it.…” She placed the fingernail in a small metal camping mug and held it over the fire. “We’ll definitely end up somewhere.”
    Oliver was still amazed to hear Emalie speak so casually about her growing powers. As if Sylvix wasn’t enough … Chronius was a big time demon, who existed across fourth-dimensional space. He had to grant access on behalf of his demon race in order for anyone to use a time portal. That Emalie had gotten his permission, in the form of this fingernail, was impressive, and worried Oliver a bit, too. How did she do such things?
    â€œOkay,” said Emalie. She pulled the cup from the fire and poured the drops of melted fingernail over the negative.
    Oliver felt a fresh rush of nervousness. After so much, they were finally going back again, to learn for sure this time. My real parents … He tried to contain his excitement.
    Emalie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then whispered in Skrit: “ Traversethh. ” It meant “to cross over.” When her eyes opened, her irises had turned red again, her pupils glowing white.
    A wind began to swirl in the tree. Silver light rose from the negative, stretching into a tiny rainbow until it reached the clipping. The light grew into an orb, the wind increased and a rush of light and air enveloped them all. Details of the tree house washed away, fading within a formless white.
    There was a flash, and then Oliver found himself looking up at a nighttime scene. It took only a moment to recognize the downtown Seattle plaza, the old stone buildings and cobblestone streets of 1946, the large Christmas tree, the cold rain stinging his face. And leaning over him, the faces of Lindsey and Howard. Mom…Dad…
    Just like last time, something distracted them, and the world spun and blurred, and Oliver found himself floating above the scene. Emalie and Dean were beside him. They watched as a couple huddled next to the fallen carriage. Phlox crouched with Nathan in her arms, Sebastian beside her, hand on her shoulder. And Nathan was screaming.
    Phlox cooed quietly, then sank her fangs into his neck. The screaming ceased. Phlox pulled away. Nathan’s face was peaceful and still, eyes wide like they were looking at something far away. Two red holes glistened in tender white skin.
    As they had seen on their last journey, for a moment a faint white veil of mist rose and swirled above the child’s face, then slipped away on the breeze.
    Your spirit , Emalie uttered faintly.
    What? Oliver turned to her.
    That was your human spirit leaving , she said. I could feel it.
    Oliver gazed back down at the scene, but the misty white was already gone. The thought filled him with sadness, imagining his spirit wandering alone, eventually drifting out of the world, or being devoured on its way, like in the Delta.
    Phlox stood, wrapped the unmoving baby