Sorcerers, Spirits, and Ships

by Katherine Gilbert

  Although it wasn’t at all the same tune, Kitty thought she heard the strains of “Charade” behind it, as though all of this time were just a cover to the one they needed to return to, especially since, if what Hubert had said about that song earlier was true, it hadn’t existed yet in this time.

  Annabella smiled at him, then looked to Teena and Eveline, answering the questions they smelled of—although Kitty supposed she hadn’t noticed it that same way.

  “Hubert’s magic is all about protection and returning things to safety and normality. If you need someone to convince a crowd of soccer hooligans that their team’s loss—or win—isn’t a reason to riot, he’s your man.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I went to a mundane British boarding school. If there’s ever a place where you need to keep the bullies at bay, that’s it.”

  Kitty suspected Annabella wanted to hear more about this, but she was still giving off a glow and clearly needed to get back to protect Armand, for which Kitty was grateful.

  “That safe passage spell?” Annabella prompted.

  He nodded, and she turned, leading them.

  Behind her, Eveline shook her head. “This is even more interesting than playing darts with my poltergeist.”

  Then, everyone focused on their target, they followed Annabella into another world.

  Chapter 22

  Annabella

  In many ways, Annabella knew that she would never have been able to break out of any of these realities without these various people acting as a focus for her. She just wasn’t certain whether that were the demon’s mistake or someone else’s design.

  Humming the strains of the song which was haunting her, she led them back toward the Grand Salon.

  Fixedly, she focused on where she was going, not on the ghosts of past voyages which floated to their sides. All along, Hubert’s magic shone around them, golden, and, with every step, she could see each successive trip the ship had taken.

  Styles changed. Skirts grew shorter and sometimes became pants. Men’s suits were slightly less formal. The ladies’ hairstyles altered over and over. Finally, there was a period with no one, save an occasional worker or two.

  “Focus,” she reminded them, as she could feel Eveline’s attention slipping to the men, trying to find her brother. “We’re not there yet.”

  Beside her, Kitty took up humming the tune, followed by Brutus and then Teena. Hubert was putting everything into his spell and clearly attempting not to panic or panic her. She could nearly hear his silent mantra, This is normal. Into the light. This is normal. Into the light. This is normal. Into . . .

  Upping the volume of her humming, she continued to walk, searching for the moment they had been shoved out of.

  Finally, they stood at the top of the stairs down to the Grand Salon, which were roped off and had a large sign over them about renovations.

  Now, it wasn’t just their humming. There was a full band, and the song was everywhere.

  “Creepy,” Eveline grunted.

  Given their imminent confrontation with a demon, Annabella thought that something of an understatement.

  Touching the velvet rope, it fell obligingly to the ground. Once everyone was on the other side, she not only bewitched it back into place behind them but magicked on a huge protective spell to keep out the unwary.

  Kitty crept in close to her back. The spirits are everywhere. Can you see them?

  Yes and no. But she didn’t have time to explain.

  Mostly, the spirits were flashes, although, if she focused really hard, she could see them individually.

  Too bad I’m not psychic, she mused, kind of forgetting Kitty could hear.

  I’ll tell you if they’re going to attack or something, she promised.

  Thank you.

  They were nearly to the Grand Salon doors now, which were wide open, and the music, which sounded like it was a live band, blared. From the leftover magic she could spare, she put a protective spell over her group, which mingled with the one Hubert had already set, and walked to the doors to see all the flashes of spirits—dozens or hundreds, probably—and no visible band.

  While the room should have been beautiful, had lovely wood parquet floors surrounded by carpeting and huge wood and brass columns, at the moment, it was anything but.

  Glancing around as they entered, Annabella saw the mural map of the coasts of England and America, which—when the ship had been in service—had held a crystal replica of the Queen which had sailed along on little tracks to show the passengers where they were on their journey. When they’d been taking their tour earlier, even though they hadn’t been allowed in this room, their guide had still shown them pictures on a tablet of what they would have seen.

  Now, though, the mural did not show Europe and America but Earth and Hell—and the ship itself was steering straight toward the dead heart of this netherworld.

  But even that wasn’t all. The whole room was lit with red lights, and instead of musicians, up on a temporary bandstand, there were three thrones made of bones.

  Angry, Annabella was glaring. How very predictable—and how familiar.

  In the ceremony the demon and Beatrix had set up before to try to murder her and steal Armand’s soul, there had been three participants, as well, the third being some hideous embodiment of the place this terrible pair had poured the blood of their victims into. This time, again, it was the demon, Beatrix—horribly now, in Armand’s body—and someone who looked like a sailor but who gave off the most evil feeling Annabella had ever experienced of anyone.

  Where’s Armand? she asked Kitty.

  The real Armand and not the one the evil woman’s inside?

  Annabella gave her a mental sort of nod.

  He’s over on the left of the stage. He’s entirely bound, and I think he’s scared.

  Kitty sounded as though she were going to panic. Annabella concentrated hard enough and finally saw her lover wrapped in thick, thorned vines of red lume-noirs—the evil sort of magical lights. He looked desperate, sad, and terrified for her.

  She wanted to tell him to be worried for himself but didn’t know how much of what she might think to him Beatrix would be able to hear. Definitely, she didn’t like the despair in his eyes, feared that she was not the only one the demon’s destruction of self had touched.

  However, as Beatrix spoke to her out of his body, she didn’t have time to think this over.

  “Oh dear. The children are back.”

  What looked to be Armand and very much wasn’t shook his head at her.

  “You are such a nuisance.”

  Annabella? Kitty nearly mewed at her.

  Hush now, she responded. If you need to warn me or have something important I need to know, tell me. I’m afraid we don’t have time for general fears right now.

  Kitty said nothing more, and she hoped she understood. Any hurt feelings would have to be part of that long chat they were going to have later.

  Assuming they lived that long.

  That last fear had actually come from the ex-cat, but, especially since she hadn’t meant to convey it, Annabella didn’t blame her. Given Beatrix and the demon’s attitude on seeing her, too, it suddenly occurred to her why she had so frequently gotten lost and turned around these last few days. Clearly, their attempts to keep her away from the Salon had muddled her directional sense completely.

  The demon—which had never stayed in one form long enough for her to get a real idea of before—now looked like a stereotypical white, male ship’s officer, although he wore his hat at a jaunty angle.

  “How did she get out?”

  Glancing over to Beatrix/Armand, his eyes narrowed.

  “I thought you siphoned off most of her power.”

  Armand wore the exact expression Beatrix always had when she was annoyed.

  “Well, it took a little over three months to get her here. That was time where you let her make friends and partner with my grandson.”

  Said grandson’s body seeme
d to shiver delicately.

  “I’ve told you before, proper slaves need to be free of all that. Otherwise, they get ideas.”

  Yes, like that I actually might matter.

  Watching the pair of them bicker again, Annabella wondered if she could use it.

  “It won’t change anything,” Beatrix promised. “I’ve still got my old . . .”

  She seemed to be pulling at something, and Annabella realized that it should lead to her chest, should be a compulsion dug deep into her heart. With every beat, it should tell her how worthless she was, how nothing she could ever do would matter, how no one could ever love her at all.

  But it wasn’t there anymore.

  For months, it had been melting. Finally, with the start of her conversion, the last, tiny bit of this ugliness had disappeared.

  To her horror, though, she saw that there was still a line the woman held, and the end was a hook pressed fully into Armand’s heart. With every beat, it drained his sense of worth, his ability to do anything but silently wait for death.

  For years, it had been there without either of their knowledge. And, if it wasn’t taken out soon, he would no longer even be able to imagine fighting to get his body back.

  Beatrix would have destroyed him for good.

  Chapter 23

  Kitty

  To Kitty’s amazement, Annabella suddenly let out a blood-curdling screech. It made all her fur stand on end—which admittedly, on this body, wasn’t a lot. Then the glow which had surrounded the woman for an hour or so rose and brightened until it was a supernova shining over the entire room.

  The demon, the thing which wasn’t Armand, and the evil, ghostly sailor all winced and leaned back from it.

  A moment later, without even leaving instructions, Annabella ran to Armand and started tearing at the vines of evil which caught his soul.

  Kitty, I need you! Stay where you are, but think with everything you’ve got about every feeling of love you’ve ever had for Armand. Think about how much you enjoyed being his feline companion. And for God’s sake, think about how much you want to live this new life in the human body he gave you!

  Kitty followed her orders, aiming all her thoughts at the man’s spirit. From how happy she had been as a kitten being petted by him, napping on his leg, to her days as a cat, when she could stand on the counter, look him in the eye, and he’d know exactly what she was thinking.

  But that wasn’t all. She thought about everything she loved about him, from the scent which let her know she was protected and loved to the little crinkle he’d get by his eyes when he smiled at her to the sound of his deep voice as he’d praise her for a being a good kitty. Every feeling of love, every happy moment, she beamed at him and let him know how much she and Annabella both needed him back.

  It’s working! Keep going!

  For a second, Kitty noticed the wall of magic Annabella had set up in front of the demon and his minions, could see their growing rage, as their evil was cordoned off from everyone else. She knew Hubert was actively aiming as much magic at it as possible to hold it in place, too.

  Even while some small part of her said that this was just a delaying tactic, that—even if they could get back Armand’s spirit, they still wouldn’t have his body—she knew that idea was being pressed on her from outside.

  Folding her hands as if in prayer, she closed her eyes and bowed her head and shone the light of all of her emotions directly at the man she cared for. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she knew it was Brutus, who understood the love she felt far better than anyone else here ever could.

  Even with her eyes closed, she could see the vines around Armand’s soul coming loose, the lies the evil ones had pumped at him starting to give way.

  Annabella, she heard him think at last and focused her love on him all the harder. When he added, Sheba, she started crying at the acknowledgment.

  All this time, too, she could feel the ghosts around her becoming restless. Somehow, the influence of the demon was cut off by the light.

  This had various effects, though. Some of the ghosts pulled free immediately, wanting nothing to do with the demon. Others were angry at its loss. Still others were caught somewhere between the two reactions.

  All Kitty knew, even as she poured out her love, was that there was going to be a fight.

  Opening her eyes just a bit, she saw the ghost of the man who murdered his wife getting closer to Annabella, who was still too lost to her work to notice.

  Behind you! she screamed to her mentally.

  Even as she felt a terror for Annabella, she could see that some kind of life was coming back to Armand’s spirit now. The horrible vine things were gone, wilted and rotten on the floor around his feet, but Annabella was still working hard to remove the thorns which had pierced his soul’s heart.

  Armand had been watching this process, but, with Kitty’s warning—which he could apparently hear, as well—he raised a hand. Then, the spirit which would have attacked ran into a green wall of light.

  The spirits around them were screaming and fighting, some of them still on the side of the demon and the evil sailor ghost. The melee around them might or might not have been obvious to most humans, but it was fairly disturbing to an ex-cat.

  Still trying to send her love to Armand, she saw sailors attacking women in evening dresses, who were surprisingly vicious in their counterattacks. Soldiers ganged up on businessmen. Soon, almost every ghost in the place had chosen a side, except for a very few.

  One man in a business suit gibbered and cowered at the side of the scene, and the woman who’d been yowling at dinner and had then been killed by the wraith, stood by, open-mouthed.

  Suddenly, Kitty remembered the wraith. Glancing around, she worried. It had to be here somewhere, didn’t it?

  Apparently, the demon thought it was. He was screaming, the fake body he had chosen now having red eyes. Even if he was still caught behind Annabella’s magic, he was calling the wraith.

  While Kitty didn’t recognize the exact words, she felt their evil intent and looked toward the doors. Every second, the demon expected it to arrive.

  Back when she’d been a cat, Kitty had rather enjoyed chasing down smaller animals. It wasn’t even so much a decision as a hind-brain thing. It ran, so she caught it. Even if she’d told it not to, her body still would have pounced. It was like something which was just part of that shape. But she still had no real desire to tangle with anything which was apparently mostly a man-sized bat.

  But she would. For Armand and Annabella, she absolutely would.

  The demon’s screams grew louder. Whatever calling it was doing, it was reaching its climax.

  More than a little afraid, Kitty stared around the room.

  The ghosts still fought. The two, creepy children who’d chased them out of the pool area were bouncing up and down at the chaos, their eyes still red. The things on the stage were not defeated by Annabella’s barrier, knew it was only a brief setback. And Annabella still noticed none of it, as she worked like a surgeon to remove the last bits of evil from Armand’s heart.

  Through it all, the demon’s call grew louder, the last words shivering off into the night, leaving a slimy feeling in the air. Just as they did, the Grand Salon doors swung open with a dramatic crash.

  The new arrival made the ghosts stop fighting temporarily, a stillness falling over everyone except Annabella, who continued to remove fiddly bits of cruel compulsion from Armand’s chest. She was the only one who didn’t even look up.

  It was her loss.

  It’s Miss Janeway, Kitty let her know. And she’s . . . something else.

  While she felt Annabella pause for half a second, she didn’t acknowledge the new arrival any more than this.

  Everyone else stared, even the demon looking on in rage, as the older woman shuffled in, still wrapped in her shawls. Only now she was carrying a pike with a large, dead batlike thing with an almost-human head impaled on its end.

  “Vengeance wrai
th?” Brutus asked.

  Kitty decided she was going to have to have a talk with him soon about trying to work up to full sentences. Humans gave you so much more respect when you could manage that.

  “It was,” Hubert agreed.

  Although Kitty was staring at the woman, who apparently had a crowd behind her, although she couldn’t see them clearly yet, she heard the demon’s screams. “You killed my wraith?”

  The evil sailor on the bandstand spoke for the first time. “It was my wraith! I created it! All my desire to destroy this ship like it killed me . . .”

  Clearly, he was going to go on, but little Miss Janeway—who didn’t look like she’d have the strength to even hold up the pike with the human-sized creature on it, much less kill it to begin with—tapped the bottom of the pike firmly on the floor, impaling the dead thing even more completely.

  The sound of that tap boomed across the room and echoed from the other side.

  Suddenly, the sailor was quiet, and Kitty understood. That thing was all of its rage and hate in terrible, monstrous form—and now it had been destroyed by an old woman.

  The sailor’s ghost collapsed on his throne and stared off into nothing.

  The demon, though, was seething.

  “How dare you? You think you can come interrupt my sacrifices? You think you can save what I would destroy?”

  Little Miss Janeway, all white-curled, old womanly perfection, smiled up at him, saying nothing.

  The demon’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

  Miss Janeway’s smile never left, but she did seem to stand taller and then taller still.

  “Justice is mine.”

  Finally, she pulled a fluffy shawl off and discarded it on the floor, and two large wings were evident on her back.

  “I am Nemesis.”

  Chapter 24

  Armand

  Armand stared, as the goddess Nemesis—the embodiment of justice—stood before them all, smiling. She was entirely transformed from the little old lady of before, except for the fact that she still wore around her shoulders one of the shawls—the one with the bunnies and lambies frolicking knitted into it.