Ghost Light (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective)

by Stevens, E. J.

  “I am your princess,” I said.

  The wisp peeked out from behind the headstone and floated tentatively toward me. It rose to head height and twinkled happily. Though the wisp didn’t communicate with words, I could feel hope, joy, and acceptance roll off its body in warm waves.

  This wisp welcomed me as its leader. I just hoped the other wisps felt the same way.

  “The lamia Melusine and The Piper with his demon flute are my enemies,” I said. “I’m here to rescue the children. If you help me, I will forgive your role in leading them to this place.”

  The wisp’s light dimmed in shame.

  “Can you lead me to the children?” I asked.

  The wisp brightened again, bobbing up and down.

  “Good,” I said. “Lead the way.”

  I waved for Jinx and Ceff to follow and turned back to the wisp. It was already dancing and weaving through the fog, nearly out of sight. That little guy could move fast.

  I grinned, teeth flashing in the night. Pride surged through me, and with it returned my desire for revenge. Melusine had murdered Ceff’s sons, put over thirty fae children in jeopardy, and manipulated my people. It was time to teach the lamia a lesson—payback’s a bitch.

  I gripped my knives and ran. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I rushed forward, heart racing. I launched myself over gravestones and urns filled with rotting flowers, all the while keeping the wisp in my sights.

  As I ran more wisps joined us, but I sent them away with a quick command. Their combined glow would likely give us away. We needed to approach with stealth if we were to keep the element of surprise. With an unhinged lamia and a demon flute wielding faerie as adversaries, I’d use every possible advantage.

  I remained ahead of my companions. Jinx was only human, though she’d had the sense to discard her platform shoes, and Ceff was still recovering from the effects of iron poisoning. I could hear their heavy breathing fade into the distance behind me and pushed on.

  My legs ached and my lungs burned, but I never slowed. I ran along the waterfront every morning, preparing myself for moments like this. That training and my newfound speed and strength allowed me to move at a breakneck pace, but still I was too late.

  Someone blew a long, tremulous note on a flute and music began to fill the air. The sound pulled at me, making my aching feet want to dance. I shook my head and slowed my pace. Even at a distance, The Piper’s music was entrancing. I had to block the sound before continuing on.

  I reached into my pocket for the earplugs that Jinx had given me. I inserted the bright colored foam into my ears, immediately dampening the music. For once, I was glad that my friend enjoyed clubbing. The earplugs were high quality and made to reduce sounds even at high decibels. Since The Piper’s flute played a low, haunting melody, the plugs almost completely blocked it out.

  Of course, I was still a couple hundred yards away.

  I checked my phone and brought up the text from Father Michael. Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur, tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute, in infernum detrude. Amen.

  Below the Latin, Father Michael had included the words in English. Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray. And do thou, oh prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God thrust into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.

  I repeated the phrase, securing it to memory. I slid the phone back into a secure pocket and took a deep breath. I just hoped that the priest’s theory was correct.

  I flipped my throwing knives, rotating each one hundred and eighty degrees to hold the blade between my fingers. I bent low and scooted closer to the music and dancing lights. When I could feel the music tugging at my body like a gale wind, I ducked behind a headstone and dug my boot heals into the turf.

  I took a calming breath, centering myself like I would for a potentially nasty vision. I focused my mind and imagined bricks and mortar being laid to form a strong, impenetrable wall around my psyche, bolstering my will. I would not succumb to the demon music. Would. Not.

  I opened my eyes and peeked around the headstone, careful not to let my face brush the moss covered stone. Bile rose in my throat and I ground my teeth. What I saw nearly broke my heart.

  Children were huddled together on the chill, damp grass. The children, still clad in the pajamas they wore when they were abducted, shivered against the cold.

  As I watched, something moved across the ground like shadows shifting through the sea of fog, heading straight for them. But these shadows were covered in skin and mangy fur. Hundreds of rats rushed toward the children, teeth and eyes flashing. The children whimpered and pulled each other closer.

  I spun around the headstone and leapt to my feet, but as I rushed toward the children, the notes of the song became more urgent. The children were jerked upright, compelled by the music as if pulled by invisible puppet strings. Rats nipped at their ankles as they joined hands and began dancing in a circle.

  I pulled my eyes away from the children and searched for the source of the music. A tall, slender faerie stood opposite my position, the circle of children between us. He held a flute to his lips with long, slender fingers that danced along the instrument like spiders. The man was wearing colorful pantaloons over hose and a matching vest over a loose, puffy blouse.

  I’d found The Piper.

  Though The Piper’s unusual clothing and tall, slender build were typical for a faerie, his lined face was not. Wrinkles creased his forehead and chin and his ebony hair was streaked with white. The Piper’s mortality was showing.

  Coiled beside him like a cobra ready to strike was Melusine. The lamia’s lips were parted in a smile of total ecstasy. The bitch was getting off on the children’s terror.

  “No!” Ceff yelled.

  I looked over my shoulder to see Ceff rushing toward the circle. He was staring in horror at his ex-wife.

  “Ah, my love,” Melusine said. “I knew you would come. You always did care too much for the children.”

  She tut-tutted, pouting her lips. With her fangs retracted Melusine was beautiful—if you could ignore the fact she was a crazy, psycho bitch.

  “How could you do this?” Ceff asked. He gave a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. “What did you possibly think you could accomplish by harming these innocent children?”

  “You have only yourself to blame,” she said. “I was the perfect wife and yet you loved our children more than you loved me. Children should be put in their place. They should be made to suffer for stealing what is rightfully mine.”

  The color drained from Ceff’s face.

  “You cannot fault me a father’s love for his children,” he said.

  Melusine ignored his words, caught up in her own fantasy. The woman was truly crazy. Her hatred and jealousy had grown into an evil, festering wound that could only be healed with the suffering of more children.

  That was what Melusine gained from tonight’s charade. She would revel in the pain inflicted on these kids. If her ex showed up to watch, that was a bonus.

  “You and I can be together again my dear,” she said, eyes gleaming. “As soon as I destroy this half-breed distraction.”

  Melusine turned to me, fangs extending. Scratch that. She was also here to win Ceff back and kill his new girlfriend. Lucky me.

  I stepped forward with my left foot, adopting a throwing stance. I bent my knees and shifted my weight to the ball of my right foot. I needed to get close enough to The Piper to disrupt his spell, but first I had to make it past Melusine.

  I yawned and stretched my right arm overhead. If I kept her talking, maybe I could get my knife into position without her knowledge. I hoped she’d underestimate the lowly half-breed.


  “If you’re going to kill me anyway, how about you tell me how you tricked the wisps into helping you,” I said.

  I moved my right hand just behind my head. I hoped it looked like I was scratching my neck, not readying to toss my iron-tipped blade.

  “Do not blame your foolish brethren,” she said. “The wisps were promised the return of their princess for their service. And I, my dears, have delivered.”

  Faerie bargains; they were always filled with loopholes and trickery. I spat. I would show her what happened to those who bound my people with deception and lies. I would show them all what it meant to anger an Unseelie princess.

  Melusine had to be stopped. She would never change. The fact she’d used my own people in her more recent evil machinations added to my conviction. Melusine may have been Ceffyl’s queen, but she never cared about his people. The bitch cared only for herself. In a jealous fit Melusine had murdered the heirs to their kingdom and abandoned her king. It was time she paid for her treasonous crimes against the kelpies.

  Melusine shot toward me, fangs fully extended. As she rushed me, she lifted a sword and aimed it at my head. I adjusted for the change in distance and threw my knife with lightning speed, faster than I’d ever thrown a blade while practicing with Jenna. I smiled. I was drawing strength from the wisps now hovering around my head.

  My knife buried itself deep in Melusine’s shoulder, putting her sword arm out of commission. The sword fell from her hand, arm hanging limply at her side. Without hesitation, Melusine dipped her body and retrieved the sword with her left hand. Great, the bitch was ambidextrous—just my luck. I readied my second knife to take out her left shoulder when Ceff stepped in front of me.

  “I will not let you do this,” Ceff said, facing Melusine. He risked a glance at me and shouted. “Go! I’ll take care of Melusine. You and Jinx rescue the children.”

  Ceff turned to face Melusine and widened his stance. The telescoping handle of his trident shot outward as he flicked his wrist hard, the move an open threat. If it came down to a choice between Melusine and the children, he’d pick the children, just as he’d always done. The knowledge made the tension bleed from my neck and shoulders.

  I nodded and lowered my blade. I’d wounded Melusine which should slow her down. If Kaye’s information was correct, lamias can only regenerate the serpent portions of their bodies. Even with the rapid healing common to full blooded fae, she wouldn’t be using her right arm in this fight.

  I had to trust that Ceff could handle his ex. I sent up a silent prayer and turned my attention to the children who were indeed in need of rescuing. Tiny feet stomped atop graves and gravel paths as the children’s bodies lurched to The Piper’s music.

  The Danse Macabre had begun.

  Chapter 23

  I watched in horror as Jinx struggled to rescue children from the circle. She pulled and cajoled, but their tiny hands held firm. No matter how hard Jinx tried, the spell was too strong.

  As she tugged at the hands of a young wood nymph, a bony hand burst from the ground and batted her away. Jinx stumbled, the earth roiling at her feet.

  The dead were rising from their graves.

  We needed to free the children from the dance. I searched recent memory and began to recite the prayer that Father Michael had given me. It was worth a shot.

  “Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray. And do thou, oh prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God thrust into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world for the ruin of souls,” I roared. Nothing happened. I choked back my frustration and pulled my phone from a zippered pocket. Maybe the prayer had to be read in Latin. “Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur, tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute, in infernum detrude. Amen.”

  But the dead continued to rise. I grunted in frustration. I was too far away from The Piper and his demonic flute. I shifted the phone to my left hand, gripping a throwing knife in my right.

  All around the circle, the earth burst upward in clumps of soil and sod. The dead clawed up through caskets and dirt, climbing out of their graves to scuttle like cockroaches toward the children. I kicked at the hands and heads of zombies as I made my way around the circle.

  The fight between Ceff and Melusine blocked my approach on the left, so I skirted to the right. The rising dead and the horde of swarming rats slowed my progress. I kept an eye on Jinx, who was positioned between us, as she fought to free the children.

  Jinx tried again to pull a small child from the circle, but it was no use. The children only parted long enough to clasp the hands of the dead, their feet never missing a beat as the zombies were welcomed into the circle.

  The newly risen dead were in varying states of decay. Bony skeletons wearing nothing but shreds of rotting cloth hurried alongside the bloated corpses of the newly deceased to find their place in the dance.

  Blinking away sweat and tears of frustration, Jinx grabbed the crossbow slung over her shoulder. She couldn’t fire at the dead that had joined the dance, since they were positioned so close to the children. So Jinx turned away from the circle and aimed at a female zombie crawling out of her grave.

  The face of the corpse had decomposed so badly that exposed teeth flashed where her cheek had been and hair hung from her scalp in stringy clumps. The woman had been dead for months, but she moved with breakneck speed. The zombie pulled herself to her feet and rushed Jinx.

  Jinx fired the crossbow, but the bolt sailed straight through the rotting flesh of her assailant. The zombie kept coming. The dead woman barreled into Jinx’s chest and knocked her flat on her butt.

  Jinx landed with a strangled cry and I took a step toward her, prepared to lose ground if it meant saving my friend. The corpse ignored Jinx, leapt past her into the circle, and joined hands with two small fae children. The female zombie was no longer an immediate threat.

  Jinx slung the crossbow back over her shoulder and stayed low, making herself a smaller target. The crossbow wasn’t an effective weapon in this fight, so she started using her hands and feet. Jinx kicked and punched at both the risen dead and the sea of rats.

  The rats that got past her nipped at the children’s feet and ankles, drawing blood. The children cried out, but continued to dance. The sound of their cries rang out even in my earplug filled ears, making my stomach twist and churn. I turned away from Jinx and the children and focused on my target.

  The spell was working. The Piper was feeding off the children’s life essence. Even at this distance I could see signs of his returning youth. The white streaks that had been in the faerie’s hair were gone and his face was filling in.

  I had to get closer to The Piper and interrupt the spell before he sucked these children dry. I would not let a selfish, demon flute wielding faerie steal away the lives of so many children and sentence their souls to Hell.

  I choked back hot, angry tears as I sprinted around the circle. My boots crunched and I tried not to think of the rats underfoot. I kept my eyes on the objective.

  A figure stumbled into my path and I batted away the rotting corpse with the flat of my blade. The zombie lurched to the left and I jinked right, avoiding its grasping hands. The thing was dressed in a threadbare suit that hung from its body in tatters and smelled almost as bad as Stinky the ghoul. I breathed through my mouth and ran faster.

  I was halfway around the circle when something moved in my peripheral vision. I twisted my torso toward the movement, knife at the ready. A pack of shadows, teeth, fur, and yellow eyes rushed low across the ground heading straight toward me. When they came within throwing range, the shadows parted to my left and right, heading toward the circle. The newcomers weren’t interested in me. They were here to battle The Piper’s pe
t rats.

  Our backup had arrived.

  I stared, eyes wide, as more cat sidhe melted out of the fog. The first wave of faerie cats, led by a cat with torn ears, placed themselves between the children and the attacking rats. The second wave of cat sidhe flanked the rodents, darting in to snatch up the weakest rats in their teeth and claws.

  Sir Torn and his army had come to battle their natural enemy, the horde of city sewer rats, and help rescue the fae children. As I watched, one cat sidhe grabbed a rat by the neck and flung it away from the children while another began using its rear claws to disembowel a second rodent. I had seen enough.

  I looked away and continued sprinting toward The Piper. I now had to skirt around the perimeter of the battle between the rats and cat sidhe. This added precious time to my run, but there was nothing I could do other than push my legs to move faster. I tightened my fingers around the knife in my hand and ran.

  I leapt over an injured cat sidhe and landed on a patch of grass beside The Piper. The music seemed louder here and I struggled to remain focused. I scanned the area for any immediate threats, squinting through the growing fog.

  Farther away, Ceff and Melusine fought their own game of cat and mouse. Their movements were too fast to follow, but the route of their battle could be discerned by toppled gravestones and demolished mausoleums. Ceff was drawing Melusine away from me and the children.

  I wouldn’t let his efforts go to waste. A haunting melody buffeted my mind, but I shook my head and turned my attention to The Piper. The effects of the Danse Macabre were evident. His face was once again youthful, a thing of fae perfection.

  I fumbled with my phone and prepared to read the prayer that Father Michael had sent me. I wasn’t wasting time on the English version. It was time to get old school.

  “Hey, douchebag!” I yelled.