Eyes to See

by Joseph Nassise

Tired of talking and filled with the need to take action, the two of them headed across the room toward the closed doors at the other end, intent on continuing their search.

  My thoughts whirling, I barely noticed.

  That was it, I thought. That had to be it!

  Eldredge had been using the fetch to hunt down and slaughter its victims. Each death had brought Eldredge one step closer to his ultimate goal, that of bringing his physical form back to life. But each death had also strengthened the ties that bound Eldredge to his doppelganger creation as the sorcerer gained more and more of his old power back.

  And the fetch didn’t like it.

  I imagined that it didn’t want to spend the next four hundred plus years following Eldredge’s orders. It wanted to strike out on its own, and it had dragged me into the picture to help it achieve that goal.

  It was just conjecture at this point, but it was the only answer that made sense. Somehow, and I didn’t know how, the fetch had learned about my affinity for ghosts and my ability to drive them off. It had then decided I was either capable enough or stupid enough to try to confront the real power behind the throne, so to speak. It then provided ample motive for me to get involved with the investigation, first with the strange writings on the walls of the crime scenes and then with charms from Elizabeth’s bracelet.

  It was also why the creature hadn’t killed me when it had the chance back at my house or slain Denise when she’d been in its control. Doing either one would have spoiled its grand plan. It needed us to take out Eldredge.

  I looked up, intending to tell the other two what I was thinking, when my heart froze in my chest.

  Charging across the room toward me in its natural form was the fetch.

  It must have come in through the entrance that Dmitri and I had used, and then snuck up as close as possible by hiding in the overgrown rows of vegetation between us.

  Now, with the other two moving away and facing in the other direction, it was making its move.

  It didn’t matter that the fetch wanted me to destroy its master. Right now it was still under the sorcerer’s control, and as a result it was going to try to slaughter me where I stood, for that was what its master wanted.

  And my two best hopes for staying alive were halfway across the room.

  I screamed.

  51

  NOW

  I thought I was a goner.

  I could see Dmitri going for the shotgun at his side; I knew it was no use. Even if he managed to get it up in time, at this distance I would be caught in the spreading path of the buckshot. He couldn’t fire or he’d take me down at the same time.

  I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I thought, as I braced myself for what was coming.

  I had no illusions about getting out of there alive.

  But as I was discovering every day, people can still surprise me.

  The fetch closed the distance impossibly fast and launched itself in my direction, claws extended and mouth open wide.

  As it did, a figure stepped out of one of the doors off to my right, firing as he came. The flashlight he held in his hands blinded me slightly, but I could still see enough to watch as the bullets struck the fetch in the face and neck, splashing blood all over me as it crashed to the floor less than a foot away.

  In the sudden silence, I turned my head, amazed to be alive, and stared at Stanton as if he was a visitor from another planet.

  “What in God’s name is that thing?” he asked, fear and disgust evident in his tone as he shone his light on the bizarre creature at our feet.

  I had to swallow hard to find my voice. It had been that close.

  “It’s a doppelganger.”

  “A doppa-what?” he asked.

  “Doppelganger. German for double walker.”

  He brushed it off. The name didn’t matter, not really. “I saw it, back there in the tunnels. It looked like you and then … then it didn’t.” He cocked his head at me in a questioning way, and I thought I saw his gun hand adjust slightly.

  “Yeah.” I looked him straight in the eyes as I said it, almost willing him to believe me. “It can do that. It can look like anyone it wants to, actually.”

  He stared at the fetch’s corpse for a minute, then back at me. “You didn’t kill that guy at the plaza, did you?”

  “No.”

  He grunted. “I should’ve known better. You don’t have it in ya. Couldn’t even knock over a convenience store properly, never mind slash a guy’s throat.”

  Stanton. Gotta love him.

  Dmitri and Denise rushed up at that point and, seeing that they weren’t a threat, Stanton ignored them, his interest on the body of the fetch in front of him instead.

  “Are you all right?” they asked in unison, and I assured them that I was.

  “Might be a good idea to stick together in the future, though,” I said, all too uncomfortably aware that while they might be able to hold their own against a creature like the fetch, I was pretty far out of my element.

  A gun went off, uncomfortably close, and we all turned to see Stanton turning away after putting another bullet into the fetch’s skull from close range.

  “What was that for?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Just playing it safe.”

  I have to say, I didn’t blame him.

  Something about the whole situation didn’t feel right. The fetch had killed forty-seven other people without once being seriously injured, at least not enough to leave more than the slightest bit of trace evidence at the scenes. It was forged in magick, imbued with a portion of the soul of an undead sorcerer and sent out to claim its victims by impersonating those they knew. And yet here we were, a couple of misfits and a single police detective, and we were able to take it out with nothing more unusual than a pistol full of 9 mm bullets?

  As if reading my mind, booming laughter rang out through the room unexpectedly.

  It sounded as if it were coming from every direction at once and the four of us spun around, searching for where it originated but unable to get a lock on it as it echoed and crashed in the overlarge space.

  Then, even as we watched, a whirlwind formed on the far side of the room, drawing dirt and dust and vegetation together in a churning mass that rose off the floor like a dust devil, writhing and turning about as within its depths something began to form.

  A thunderclap sounded inside the confined space and the doors and windows along the walls suddenly flew open, the glass shattering and raining down in a deadly shower, the doors themselves flying off the hinges. Luckily all of us escaped unscathed.

  As the dust settled and we dared to raise our heads again, we discovered that we were no longer alone.

  At the other end of the room, where the whirlwind had been, the shade of Nathan Eldredge now stood before us.

  I had been expecting some phantasmal form of one kind or another, a spectral presence like that of Whisper or Scream, but the success of his efforts to regain his physical form was very evident and, frankly, scared the hell out of me.

  He was dressed in the clothing common to the time in which he’d been imprisoned: boots, breech pants, and a shirt that tied in front. A long, hooded cloak covered his frame and hid his face in shadow.

  “Did you think my pet would be defeated so easily?” he asked, the words dripping with disdain.

  The shade gestured with one hand, and behind us, the fetch came back to life, its arm lashing upward, claws extended, and disemboweled Stanton where he stood. The look of shocked surprise on the detective’s face might have been comical if it hadn’t been accompanied by the sight of his small intestines leaking out across his lap and falling onto his shoes. He stood there, staring back at us, and then the fetch swarmed up over his body and planted that circular mouth over Stanton’s own. There was a strange sucking sound and right before our eyes Stanton’s body seemed to collapse in on itself. I would have bet that his skin turned that peculiar shade of blue green that the fetch’s other victims had as well. It was over in seconds
; when the fetch was done it released Stanton’s corpse and watched it topple over sideways. Then it fell upon us with a vengeance.

  Dmitri’s gun came up, faster than I thought him capable of, and he let loose with shot after shot, pummeling the fetch’s form, blowing it from its feet and then driving it backward across the floor with the force of the gunfire.

  When he ran out of shells he tossed the weapon away and drew one of the two pistols he carried, continuing to fire until that, too, ran dry.

  Meanwhile Denise threw her energies against the shade itself, conjuring up several blazing fireballs in each hand and hurling them in the shade’s direction.

  Unfortunately, neither tactic seemed to be doing much good. No sooner had Dmitri emptied an entire magazine of shells into the fetch than did it shift shape, expel the lead from its body, and reform again, good as new. Eldredge didn’t even need that much effort; he simply waved his hands, summoning a shield of powerful energy to deflect Denise’s attacks and send them bouncing harmlessly to either side.

  The flashes of arcane brilliance had blinded me, so I didn’t actually see Dmitri change, but one minute he was standing before the fetch in human form and the next he was towering over the other creature, his transformation to a polar bear complete.

  I thought his sheer size and strength might be able to put an end to the fetch, but once again I was wrong. The creature’s ability to shift in size and form, never mind its sheer speed, kept Dmitri from landing a solid blow, certainly not one strong enough to take the creature out of the fight. At the same time, the fetch was giving as good as it got, ducking beneath Dmitri’s long arms or dodging his driving muzzle, and soon Dmitri’s yellow-white fur was stained crimson in more than a handful of places.

  There was no way that we could keep this up for long.

  Even as I worked to figure a way out of this for all of us, Eldredge began to take the offensive, using his power to hurl chunks of masonry, tile, and shards of glass in our direction at impossible speeds. Denise did her best, conjuring an energy shield large enough to protect us both. Each time an object struck it, there was a blinding flash; in seconds I lost my ability to see all together.

  Time was running out.

  Eldredge’s shade was incredibly powerful; that much was obvious. It would take the combined efforts of all three of us just to have an impact, it seemed. When you added in the strength, cunning, and physical agility of the fetch, we were clearly outclassed. I realized with sickening certainty that even Dmitri’s prodigious strength would eventually wear out and we’d be left to face the two of them on our own.

  Not a situation I wanted to be in.

  All right, Hunt. Forget the fetch. Focus on the shade. Get rid of the shade first.

  I thought furiously.

  Technically speaking, the shade was just another form of ghost, albeit an enormously powerful one. And ghosts needed a fetter, a material object of some kind that was so important to them it formed a psychic bond powerful enough to keep them here.

  Destroy the fetter and you destroy the shade!

  But first we had to find the damn thing.

  My first thought was that the fetch itself was the shade’s fetter, but that didn’t make sense. The fetch wanted to destroy its master and it wouldn’t do anything to harm itself in the process, otherwise it would all have been for naught. The fetter had to be some other object.

  But what?

  Something Denise said earlier came back to me.

  Hathorne and his precious Circle hadn’t been able to destroy Eldredge, so they’d imprisoned his physical body in some kind of iron coffin and then buried him away somewhere for safekeeping.

  Which meant that his earthly body was more than likely acting as his fetter!

  Without anything else to go on, it was the best guess I had. And sometimes, guessers get lucky.

  I had no idea where in heaven’s name I was going to find the corpse of a sorcerer buried four hundred years ago, never mind do it in the next few minutes.

  The situation seemed hopeless.

  I glanced around frantically, my thoughts a scattered mess.

  When the solution finally occurred to me, I wanted to kick myself for being so obtuse. As Denise worked to hold off the shade, I closed my eyes, cleared my thoughts, and called for Whisper.

  Or, at least, that’s what I tried to do.

  Ever tried to clear your head in the midst of an argument? Being in the middle of a battle with arcane energies going off all around you, as two creatures out of myth and legend are facing off in a whirl of teeth and claws not ten feet away, might make it just a little bit tough to concentrate.

  I cast a frantic glance at Denise, saw she was still holding her own, and I tried again, pushing my desire out into the world around me, struggling so hard to visualize the end result that my temples began to pulse in pain.

  Still, my ghostly companion failed to appear.

  Finally, out of options and knowing my time was fading fast, I did the only other thing I could think of to do.

  I threw my head back and screamed for her at the top of my lungs.

  “Whisper!”

  When I looked down again, she was standing beside me, watching the fight between Denise and Eldredge with an unreadable expression on her face.

  I knelt down beside her as fast as I could and pointed out our foe.

  “I need to know where that man is buried, Whisper,” I explained. “Can you do that for me? Can you show me where he is buried?”

  I felt her squeeze my hand in reply. I wasn’t ready for the freight train of pain that poured through my head, however, and it nearly undid me. With my hands on the ground to hold me up, I fought back against it. When it passed a few seconds later, I opened my eyes.

  A fine silvery cord stretched from the sorcerer’s physical manifestation, across the room, and down into the roots of that old twisted oak.

  I wanted to hit myself for being so stupid. Of course! Eldredge’s coffin had been buried in the one place Hathorne could always watch over it—beneath the floor of his own house.

  Now all I had to do was unearth it, open it up, and destroy the remains inside. Doing so should destroy the fetter. That would definitely disrupt whatever energy Eldredge was using to remain on this plane and send him back to hell where he belonged.

  Trouble was, I didn’t have several hours and a bunch of shovels at my disposal. I had to think of something else.

  I hear a cry of pain from Denise; a frantic glance in her direction showed me that she was still fighting, but she couldn’t keep it up at that pace for long. The shade’s attacks were finally starting to breach the shield she’d conjured up to protect us; if I didn’t so something soon we were toast.

  Then it hit me. I might not be able to dig down to the coffin fast enough to do any good, but no one said I had to do things by the book anymore, either.

  I shouted in Denise’s direction, hoping to be heard above the din of the battle. “I need you to dig up that tree!”

  She glanced at me, frowning. “You what?” she yelled, as she flung up another protective shield against the blasts of energy the enemy was still sending their way.

  “The tree, Denise!” I shouted, pointing. “Rip up the tree!”

  I could see she didn’t understand why I was shouting about the tree, but that didn’t stop her from doing what I’d asked. She faced the target, gathered her strength about her, and flung her hands out in front, shouting “Ventus!” as she did.

  A hurricane-like wind tore through the solarium and burst against the trunk of the tree like a shot from a cannon. Branches cracked, leaves flew, and the old, diseased trunk tore itself free of the earth.

  There, in the dark hollow beneath the roots, was an iron casket, bound in chains and sealed with large antique locks.

  This time she didn’t need to be told what to do. Anticipating my need, she raised her arms and sent another blast of power at the coffin, lifting it up and slamming it back down to earth hard enou
gh to shatter the chains that bound it and spill the human remains it contained out on the ground.

  In the midst of the pile, a human skull, yellow with age, stared out at me.

  Now we were talking!

  But by taking her attention off the shade and doing what I’d asked, Denise had let her guard down just enough, and the enemy wasted no time in taking advantage of it.

  With a shout of anger the shade gestured in our direction again.

  A furrow suddenly ripped down the floor at high speed, tearing the ceramic tiles free of their mooring and sending them flying every which way, their razor sharp edges seeking to tear the flesh from our bones. The explosion of force literally threw me to one side; I wasn’t the shade’s target.

  Denise was.

  The furrow roared across the space separating the two of them as fast as a gunshot. I saw a blue shimmer rise up in front of her as she sought to impose some mystical barrier between her and the oncoming power blast, but she was a second too slow. I watched as she was picked up and tossed aside like a rag doll by the force of the strike, spinning away to slam into the nearest wall with a force that brought mortar, bricks, and ceiling down on her in a rumbling cascade.

  At the same time the fetch finally wore Dmitri down to the point where it was able to slip through his defenses and land a stunning blow to the side of his head. Dmitri stumbled backward, slipping to one knee, and giving the fetch the chance to rush in close, inside the reach of those long arms. I could only watch in horror as the fetch lashed out, raking its claws across Dmitri’s unprotected throat.

  Blood splashed everywhere.

  But Dmitri had no intention of going down alone. Even as the fetch slashed his throat, Dmitri’s massive paw slammed into the fetch’s chest. As Dmitri toppled over, he took the fetch down with him.

  Then he collapsed, leaving them both unmoving and me on my own.

  My conscience practically screamed at me to help him, but I knew there was nothing I could do. If I wanted to destroy the shade, I had to act now or I’d lose my chance.

  I turned my back and raced for the coffin, avoiding several blasts of power the shade idly tossed in my direction along the way, and slid into the dirt beside it. Snatching the skull from out of the tangled pile of bones, I jumped to my feet, spun around, and held it up aloft so that Eldredge could see that I had it, shouting, “All right, you bastard, I’ve had enough. This is where this farce ends!”