by C. E. Murphy
“You fell.” Coyote and Morrison were both there, gazes concerned and hands extended. I looked at them dully, then put my hands in theirs.
It was about as much as my water-laden, half-frozen muscles could manage. They had to pull me to my feet, and even so, I fell, soaking Morrison almost as badly as I was drenched when he caught me. We got out of the waterfall’s stream and Coyote slung his leather coat over my shoulders. Its warmth made me start shivering violently. He said, “Jo,” in a perfect blend of exasperation and worry.
Desert heat rolled over me, a light touch of his healing power sinking into my bones and driving the chill from my body. It did squat-all to dry me off, but after several seconds I regained enough motor control to squirm out of my coat and start wringing it. It hadn’t gotten wet when I’d fallen in a river in North Carolina. Apparently I’d spilled enough magic just now that my subconscious couldn’t cope with details like that. Coyote took the coat and began wringing it himself so I could rub my chest instead. “Th-thanks.”
Morrison stepped up to wrap his arms around me. His body temperature felt like it was about five hundred degrees, compared to mine. I expected to see steam rise where we touched as I huddled against him gratefully. “You fell,” he repeated. “What happened?”
“Everybody’s okay?” I whispered. “The shields held, Coyote? Nobody attacked?”
“Attacked? No. You did it.” Coyote was hushed with awe. “You did it, Jo. I didn’t think you could.”
“I did what? I let Marcia walk right out? Yeah. Yay. Good job me.”
They both stared at me, blue eyes and gold equally befuddled. Coyote nodded toward the falls. “No, you did it. You cleansed the magic here.”
I stared back at them, uncomprehending. It took a while to think to use the Sight, to look beyond them at the column of magic rising from Thunderbird Falls.
It was white again, the taint entirely vanished. Morrison must have seen recognition of the fact in my face, because he gave a sudden grin and clapped my shoulder. “I knew you could do it, Walker.”
“No.” I sounded faint. “No, I mean, maybe I did, but I didn’t. If the dark magic is gone it’s because she needed it to reincorporate. Like the wraiths feeding Raven Mocker’s arrival, Morrison. Oh, we struck a blow, maybe,” I said bitterly. “Two of them. We took Annie back first and then we knocked the leanansidhe out of Marcia, probably because it wasn’t as firmly embedded in Marcia as it would’ve been in Annie. But then I built it a nice big circle to suck power from and filled it up with my own hate and now she’s out there again and it’s all my fault.”
I was proud of myself. I’d come a long way in the past fifteen months. When this started, those last three words would have been pure snivel. Now they were grim acceptance. I felt Coyote and Morrison exchanging glances, and by some arcane male signaling, it was apparently decided that Morrison should speak. “Walker, Marcia Williams’s body is down there by the falls. The paramedics have been working on her since you and she crashed together. Remember? They declared her while you were up here.”
“...the leanansidhe didn’t take the body back?”
Morrison shook his head. Hope lit and fizzled in me all at once and I had to repeat myself to even start believing it. “You mean she didn’t reincorporate?”
Carefully, like he thought I had perhaps dropped forty or so IQ points along the way, Morrison echoed, “She didn’t reincorporate, Walker.”
I swayed, running through the implications of that, half-aloud. “So that’s good, then. Because it means she’s just a malevolent spirit right now. And it’s bad, because it means that she needs a body. Oh, God.” I straightened up, all malaise burning away. “Malevolent spirits. Any of the mediums in Seattle could be vulnerable, Morrison. Billy. Have you heard anything from Billy since this started?”
“He’s on his way down here now.”
“No. Not here. Not—agh! You left Suzy and Annie alone!” I shook the men off and ran for the bluff, which was another of those things I didn’t think through so well. Lucky for me, I didn’t have enough momentum to really fly off the fifteen-foot-high cliff face, and mostly only slid and crashed my way down its rough slope. I looked like a mud bunny when I hit the bottom, water and soft dirt caking most of my body. I wiped my face clean as I ran for the Muldoons and Suzy, and concluded from Suzy’s sudden burst of laughter upon my arrival that I hadn’t done a very good job. She clapped her hands over her mouth apologetically. I smeared more muck around, sighed and gave up. “Are you all right?”
“She came at us.” Suzy’s humor fell away like it had never existed. She tapped her temple. “I Saw her, silver against the black, and I got between her and Annie. She wanted me. It was like I felt her tasting the green inside me, but I braced myself and she hit the black first and...it was like it scared her, Ms. Walker. She ran. Away,” she added as my gaze went to Annie. “That way.” She pointed west, which brought my attention back to her.
“Can you track magic?”
Suzy’s eyebrows turned quizzical. “Track it?”
“See where it’s going, or gone. Like it’s left a trail?”
Her eyebrows dropped, and beneath them her expression became nonplussed. “Sure. Can’t you?”
“...no. No, I can’t.”
She brightened up like I’d given her a pony. “Really? I can do something you can’t? That’s cool! I wonder why!”
Gary cleared his throat with a rumble. “I’m guessing it’s ’cause it’s your grandpa who’s the god of the Wild Hunt, sweetheart. Wouldn’t be much of a hunter if he couldn’t track something. Maybe it came down through the genes.”
That made such perfect sense I wanted to kick myself for not dragging Suzy in on a couple of cases where tracking magic would have been really, really handy. Like with the windigo. Or the werewolf. Then I reminded myself she was fifteen and hauling her out on police-turned-magic cases would probably be illegal, never mind the obvious dangers. On the other hand, she was here now and I already had to keep her in sight so I could keep her safe, so I might as well take advantage. “Can you See where she’s going? Or if she’s stopped anywhere, or—”
Suzy’s scleras blazed green as she ignited her power. “A park. A baseball par—oh!” The fire in her eyes shut down, fear replacing brilliant color. “I felt it, Ms. Walker. The black. It...” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, looking exactly like the lost little girl she’d been when we first met. “It surged when I used my magic. It was trying to get deeper in. I don’t want to use it again.”
“You don’t have to.” I put my arm around her shoulders and squeezed, forgetting I was covered in wet mud. She made an excellent “Blee!” face and tried to cringe away politely. I said, “Oh, God, sorry,” and tried brushing muck off her, only to compound the problem. I knew I was making it worse, but I still couldn’t stop myself until I took a deep breath and physically stepped back. It didn’t take a genius to interpret my frantic attempts to tidy Suzy as apology for messing up with the leanansidhe. Once I was far enough away that I couldn’t spontaneously begin my grooming efforts again, I said, “Woodland Park. It’s got to be. It’s still a black mark on Seattle’s psyscape.”
Morrison and Coyote, the latter carrying my trench, joined us again just in time to hear me say the last few words. Morrison gave me exactly the look I deserved for coining a word like psyscape, but it got across what I needed it to. “If I’d known that was going to be an issue I’d have asked Melinda to wash it. All right. I guess that’s where we’re going, then.”
“You might want a shower first, Walker.”
For a moment I worked on twisting that around until it sounded like an invitation, but Morrison’s tone kind of forbade that. I made a face. “I’m pretty sure the Master isn’t going to care if I’m fresh and lemon-scented, Morrison.”
“Probably not, but you rolled through s
omething unfortunate on your way down, and if you want the rest of us to put up with you all day, you need a shower.”
Oh. And I’d smeared it on Suzy, too. I pulled a wan smile together. “At least the car’s a rental?”
“I knew it!” A triumphant voice pierced not only our discussion, but the general background noise of cops doing their job at a crime scene.
My spine went rigid as an iron bar. The voice approached, exultation increasing as it got closer. “I knew you had to be involved. First a woman returns from the dead at Seattle General, then a mass murder at Thunderbird Falls? Joanne Walker had to be here. I knew it!” The voice stopped behind me, then said, “What have you been rolling in, Detective Walker?” with distinct distaste.
I sighed. “I’m trying not to think about that, Ms. Corvallis. And it’s just Joanne now. I left the department a couple of weeks ago.” I turned to face Laurie Corvallis, Channel Two news reporter, as I spoke.
She looked like she’d been put on this earth as a compare-and-contrast to Joanne Walker. Like me, Laurie was of mixed ethnic background, only she was petite and striking, light blue eyes emphasized by warm brown skin tones and long black hair. She was also possessed of an impeccable dress sense, a sleek trench coat open to reveal a blouse just red enough to be stunning without seeming aggressive, and a genuinely terrific knee-length black wiggle skirt. I supposed I’d want to be dressed to the nines, too, if I was likely to be broadcast on national news at any moment.
Speaking of which, her cameraman, whose name I’d never learned, was a few steps behind her. He tilted his head out from behind the camera in greeting, then went back to looking through the lens. I wondered if he became detached from the world, watching it through a camera lens all the time, but it didn’t seem like the time to ask. “I hear you’re coming up in the world, Laurie. Congratulations. But there’s no story here for you.”
“Oh, there’s a story, all right. I’ll just never be able to tell it.” Her appraising gaze swept everybody with me, lingering on Annie.
“Then why bother? You gave me the windigo footage.”
Laurie glanced back at me, almost surprised. “Because it’s my job to find out what’s going on, Dete—you quit?”
“Being a shaman and being a cop were becoming mutually incompatible.”
Sounding not at all professional or predatory, Laurie said, “Wow. Sorry to hear that. Ray said you were turning into a good cop. I wonder why he didn’t mention you leaving.”
“You’re still dating Ray?”
“None of your business.” The response was snappy, but she smiled, so I figured they were still dating. That was kinda cool. Ray was one of my coworkers, a fireplug of a man who seemed way below Laurie’s league. On the other hand, he was obviously discreet, if he hadn’t mentioned that particular bit of office gossip to his girlfriend the reporter, and a reporter would probably appreciate discretion in a partner. I hoped they lived happily ever after.
Laurie, sharing none of my sentiment, picked up where she’d interrupted herself. “It’s my job to find out the heart of the story, Joanne. It’s not about telling it, or not always. It’s about knowing.”
“You should’ve been a spy.”
“I said not always.” Laurie Corvallis actually sparkled, nearly winking, as she said that, and then her sparkles turned diamond-hard. “So I’ll be coming with you.”
“...okay.”
Identical squawks of protest rose from several throats. I focused on Morrison, who had the most real-world authority of our gathering. “Look, we can spend a lot of time and energy arguing with her, and have her follow us anyway, or we can take her along, keep an eye on her, and let her help us keep an eye on each other.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“I’m an investigative reporter, Captain. I do danger with lunch.”
“She was awesome with the wendi...” I had no idea why I was trying to convince Morrison. It wasn’t his decision. It wasn’t even my decision. I knew Laurie well enough to understand it was hers alone. “Well, anyway, I’m going home to take the world’s fastest shower. Maybe we should all get into Laurie’s news van. There’s probably something metal I can sit on and not stink up, in there.”
The cameraman emerged from behind the camera again, this time with an expression of dismay, but Laurie’s satisfaction trumped it. “Great idea. I’ll start my interviews while he drives. Mrs. Muldoon, I’d like to start with you. What’s it like coming back from the dead?”
Annie Muldoon gave Laurie a penetrating look, then put her hand on Gary’s arm and let him escort her away from the crime scene. Laurie, undeterred, chased after them. Morrison touched my shoulder, stopping me as I started in that direction, too. “You have too many people to watch over already, Walker.”
“She’s like a Komodo dragon, boss. Once she gets hold of something she keeps her teeth in it until it rots and falls apart. Or something like that.”
“I know. I’m just worried about you, Jo.” He emphasized my name a little, bringing us closer when I’d used the distancing boss nickname. “How are you going to keep an eye on all of us?”
I watched the others trailing along behind the Muldoons and Laurie, and sighed. “You and Laurie are probably the least vulnerable to magical attack, and Coyote can protect himself and some of the others. Gary. I’ll pair Coyote with Gary, because they know each other, they’ve worked together before. Annie and Suzy I’ve got to keep with me. Annie, Laurie, Suzy, jeez, if we had any more ee-sounding names we’d be a girl band.”
Morrison laughed. “Joanie.”
I twitched and he laughed again. “We’ll put Suzy on the bass,” he decided. “The long pale hair, the haunted green eyes. It’d be her style. Corvallis is clearly percussion. That makes Mrs. Muldoon lead guitar, which leaves you as the vocals. Can you sing, Walker?”
“Tell me your favorite song, then ask me that question again in a few weeks.”
Morrison, straight-faced, said, “‘Corvette Sally.’”
Laughter burst out of me so loudly Gary and Annie glanced back to see what was so funny. Beaming, I said, “I’d kiss you if I wasn’t filthy. ‘Corvette Sally.’” I laughed again, and Morrison let his stern demeanor crack until a grin shone through. Still giggling, I shoved my hands in my pockets so I wouldn’t hug him, and tilted my head toward Laurie’s van. “C’mon. Let’s go get a shower and go hunting bad guys.”
Chapter Twelve
I didn’t live all that far from Thunderbird Falls. A couple of miles, maybe three.
Laurie Corvallis asked a truly amazing number of questions in three miles. It didn’t seem to bother her at all that nobody was answering, or that when she turned her attention on Suzy—the most vulnerable of us to interrogation—that I interrupted before her first question was out. “Leave her alone, Laurie, or I’m going to come lean on you.”
Contempt pulled her pretty face into a shark’s deadly sneer. “You think a little pressure from a former police officer is going to stop me from getting the story?”
“No, Laurie.” I waved one filthy arm. Gary, who had manfully chosen to sit next to me—because Morrison had to drive the rental car to my house, and therefore wasn’t available to draw the short straw—shrank back. “I mean lean. Literally. I will get you all dirty, and you won’t look nice for your national news stories.”
“I’m not afraid of a little dirt, Joanne.” She didn’t, however, try asking Suzy any more questions. Suzy looked like she couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed. Probably both. I’d have been, at her age.
Somewhat to my dismay, the cameraman drove us straight to my apartment building without asking where it was. I eyed Laurie, who shrugged and offered one of her barracuda smiles. I decided not to push it and we all fell out the back of the van like clowns being disgorged from a Volkswagen Beetle. Morrison pulled up and gave us
an amused look as we got straightened out and headed inside. Gary and Annie called for the super-slow elevator in the building’s lobby and the rest of us took the stairs up five flights, me in the lead. I was unlocking the door when it occurred to me I’d left for Ireland without stopping at home first, and that in the ensuing two weeks everything in the fridge had probably taken on a life of its own. I muttered, “You might want to hold your breath,” to my little army of followers, and pushed the door open.
Not only did it not stink, but the whole place looked unusually clean. I wasn’t the world’s worst housekeeper, but I wasn’t the best, either. I stopped inside the door and peered around dubiously. Everything was in its place, living room sofa, comfy chairs, computer desk in the far corner. I was pretty sure there had been random articles of clothing lying around when I’d left. I was certain the kitchen, off to my left, had not been sparkling. Everybody barged in behind me, pushing me farther into the apartment, but once there I turned and gave Morrison a suspicious look.
“I had to drop by to get your drum, Walker. I thought I’d leave the place tidier than I found it.”
“If I wasn’t filthy...” I repeated, and he smiled in a way that warmed the cockles of my heart, even if I didn’t know what cockles were. “Someone order food,” I suggested. “There should be a menu for Mrs. Liu’s Chinese delivery by the fridge.”
“Food, Walker?”
“If we’re stopping for a shower, Annie hasn’t eaten anything in, like, five years, and I haven’t had much since yesterday morning.”
“You ate half the food in North Carolina yesterday morning,” Morrison pointed out, but he headed for the kitchen with both Suzy and Laurie’s notoriously food-bribable cameraman on his heels. Coyote threw himself into my couch and Laurie sat across from him in one of the chairs, clearly intending to pepper him with more questions. I’d never had so many people in my apartment at the same time before. It was almost like a party, except I wasn’t sure if people would have end-of-the-world parties. Probably. I excused myself as Gary and Annie came in, and went to shower.
