Grave Visions

by Kalayna Price

  “I don’t know,” she sounded miserable, but evasive. This wasn’t the same desperate cry of ignorance she’d used earlier. She was hiding something.

  I wasn’t the only one who heard the difference.

  “Tell us what you do know, handmaiden,” the queen said, and there was unmistakable command in her voice. There was also fury, the cold kind that could patiently and with clearheaded calculations drag out horrible torture. I was glad it wasn’t directed at me.

  “My queen, I can’t—”

  “Now.”

  The little fae seemed to collapse further into herself, but she answered. “I never saw his face, and he only whispered when he spoke to me. He told me that my sacrifice was for the good of all and that big changes were coming and I’d be helping.” She paused, but the queen cocked one dark eyebrow and the words stumbled out of her again. “He was, or at least I think he was, Sleagh Maith, my lady.” She drew back with the last, as if she thought the queen would reach out and grab her for accusing one of the noble line of fae of being her captor. Of course, my circle still separated the ghost from the queen, so even if the queen had wanted to throttle the ghost, she couldn’t have.

  For her part, the queen rocked back slightly on her heels, as if Icelynne’s words had delivered a physical blow her body had absorbed. She turned, hands clenched at her sides, and paced the edge of my circle.

  “Do you have any idea who he was? This captor of yours, was he of my court?”

  Icelynne sniffed loudly, her body trembling. “I do not know, my lady. I swear I do not know. He never took off his cloak, and he only spoke to me when he brought food or hooked or unhooked the tubes. Most of the time when he was in the room he was fiddling with an alchemy lab.”

  “Alchemy? Like turning lead into gold?” I asked.

  The little fae shook her head, making the ice crystals shimmer in the afternoon light. “No. I think he was distilling the glamour from our blood.”

  Chapter 10

  We continued to question Icelynne for what felt like another hour, but there wasn’t much more she could tell us. She’d been held by three fae, one of whom she thought might be Sleagh Maith, but she’d never seen any faces. They’d drained their captives, but slowly. They’d fed the prisoners, presumably so they’d gather as much blood as possible from each. Oh, and just maybe they were using the blood to distill pure glamour. Why? I couldn’t guess, and it seemed no one else could either. Not yet at least.

  The queen was the most persistent in the questioning. Continuing to try the same questions from different angles long after everyone else had fallen silent. Icelynne dutifully attempted to answer, but there was just no more information she could provide.

  By the time the queen turned away, disgust curling her lips, I’d consented to sitting cross-legged beside the ghost. It didn’t take much energy to keep her visible—certainly much less than a ritual holding a shade for this long would have cost me—but the interrogation had still taken more than an hour, and I was exhausted. I was also getting rather anxious about the time. Tamara’s rehearsal dinner was in a couple of hours, and I wanted to have this all tied up in time to make the event. Ethan’s family had booked a reservation at one of Nekros’s nicer restaurants, and I needed enough energy in reserve that I didn’t fall asleep on my very expensive plate.

  It was a relief when I finally released Icelynne’s shoulder, slipped my extra shields back in place, and dropped my circle. The evening sun hung over the horizon, all but obscured by the surrounding trees. Fall was progressing quickly, so despite the growing gloom it was still relatively early in the evening. Early or not, I wanted to go home and sleep. I couldn’t, but oh how I wanted to. On the plus side, I could still see. No ritual meant my eyes had taken minimal damage.

  “Where will you take that?” Icelynne asked as Falin retrieved the knapsack holding her bones.

  Since I no longer had contact with her, he couldn’t hear her, so I repeated the question. Falin paused, the bag not quite slung over his shoulder. The look on his face was half grimace, half embarrassment, as if he’d forgotten the connection between the fae he’d spent the last hour questioning and the bones. Or as though he hadn’t realized she was still there watching now that she was once again farther across the chasm between the living and the dead.

  “My lady?” he asked, turning to the queen.

  For a moment I thought she’d brush off the question, unconcerned. Then she frowned, and addressed an empty space to my left, not quite where the ghost-fae stood, but close. “Icelynne, you served me as my handmaiden. What is it you would like done to honor your body? We could bury you here where you would become part of the wild.”

  That sounded like something Icelynne should answer with her own words, and likely nothing I’d want to try to repeat. So I reached out and gave her a bit more energy. When the queen’s eyes snapped to Icelynne, I knew the ghost had solidified.

  The little fae’s face scrunched in thought. She’d clearly never considered what should be done with her body after death—most near-immortals didn’t dwell on such mortal details. “I hate this place. It is decaying all around me,” she finally said. “I want to be in the beauty and magic of Faerie. I want to be returned to the winter court.”

  The queen nodded and turned away, satisfied the conversation was over. I had no idea what they’d do with her bones once they got them back to Faerie, but Falin carried the bag toward the car, so I dropped my hand from Icelynne’s arm.

  I trudged after the queen and Falin. Ryese and Blayne had apparently gone ahead of us while I was breaking my circle, but Maeve and Lyell followed me, leaving a wide stretch between us that I could feel their suspicious gazes filling.

  “Wait,” Icelynne called after me, her wings fluttering as she crossed the distance I’d already covered. “I’m uh, dead, correct? And they can’t see or hear me, but you can.”

  I nodded.

  “What happens now? To me, I mean?”

  I opened my mouth, but then closed it again as I found I had no words that could offer her comfort. I’d seen the plane of light and life the soul collectors existed on, but that wasn’t where souls actually went after they moved on. I wasn’t even sure Death knew what awaited a soul on the other side. Telling Icelynne that likely wouldn’t reassure her. While most ghosts crossed into the land of the dead by the soul struggling against collector, Icelynne hadn’t chosen to stay behind, to become what she now was. I’d freed her from the prison of her bones, but only to release her into the purgatory of the land of the dead. Looking at her panicked features, that seemed like less of a kindness than it should have been.

  “I’ll help you find a soul collector,” I finally said. From what I understood, souls were assigned to collectors at birth, but those born in Faerie didn’t get collectors because the collectors’ realm didn’t cross over with Faerie. Now that she was a ghost in the mortal realm though, any passing collector could help her cross over. At least, that was my understanding from the fact Death had promised he’d come for my soul when I died. He’d sort of adopted me. Kind of creepy in a way, considering he was my boyfriend, but reassuring to know that I wouldn’t end up wandering for eternity or get eaten by something nasty in the land of the dead. I assumed he wouldn’t have an issue with taking Icelynne the next time he visited. “He’ll help you cross over to whatever comes next.”

  Shimmering tears rose again in her dark eyes. I’d have thought by now she would have run out of moisture. But one fat tear escaped, running a fresh trail down her cheek. “I don’t want to cross over. I want to go home. To Faerie.”

  She was hovering eye level to me, but she still looked small, childlike. I almost wanted to hug her. I didn’t. She wasn’t a child. In fact, she was probably hundreds of years older than me.

  “I don’t think you can,” I told her. Faerie didn’t have a land of the dead, or the realm of souls where the collectors existed
. I’d seen one ghost in the Bloom before, but the Bloom was a bleed-over point between the planes, and I had no idea what happened to him once he passed into Faerie proper. I’d never seen any ghosts during my trips in Faerie.

  In the distance, the sound of a car starting up roared through the trees and Falin called my name. I didn’t know what else to tell Icelynne, so I started walking again.

  “You can’t just leave me here,” she called after me, her high-pitched voice thin, desperate.

  I hadn’t planned to. And besides, even if I’d wanted to leave her behind, she was a ghost. I couldn’t have stopped her from following me. But she was new to this ghostly gig and didn’t realize that yet.

  “Come with us to the Magic Quarter,” I said, beckoning her to follow.

  She didn’t move. “You will not take me to a . . . collector?” The way she stumbled over the title betrayed her unfamiliarity. Of course, even among humans, whose life spans were tragically short compared to fae, the idea of a soul collector, angel of death, or grim reaper—whatever title you wanted to give them—was often more than people could accept.

  I started to promise I wouldn’t take her to a collector before she was ready, but the words wouldn’t form on my lips. While it wasn’t a lie, it was too close to an oath I couldn’t guarantee I’d be able to keep. With as much contact as I had with collectors, the longer she hung around me, the higher her likelihood of encountering one. “I occasionally keep company with collectors, but I have no intention of slapping a bow on you and presenting you as a present. I work with a ghost and he’s managed to haunt me for months despite my other associations.”

  She studied me for several seconds before nodding and fluttering up beside me. I turned in the direction of the road again, and began trudging back along the path we’d followed.

  “Do you know many ghosts?” she asked as I stumbled over yet another tree root.

  “Not exactly,” I said, ducking under a tree branch but then had to stop to catch my breath. “Ghosts aren’t rare, per se, but they aren’t common.” I straightened, still breathing hard. I’d never been a marathon runner or anything, but I wasn’t typically this bad off just from hiking in the woods. I guessed this was another side effect of fading. I needed to catch up to the queen and find out how to cement my tie to Faerie as an independent fae.

  Icelynne seemed as though she had more questions she wanted to ask, but I was in no shape to answer them, so thankfully she let me trip through the woods in peace. By the time I reached the road, everyone else was already loaded up in the cars. The queen showed no inclination to get back out or even lean her seat forward, and for a moment I considered trying to climb into the back over the side of the car. My exhausted limbs were not agreeable with the idea. Falin slid out and motioned me around. I expected Ryese to slide over and take the seat behind the queen, but he just smiled, forcing me to climb over his lap. I may have “accidentally” stepped on his foot. Twice.

  I all but collapsed in the backseat, not caring that I was so scrunched my knees touched my chest. Icelynne regarded the car skeptically. I wasn’t sure if that was because she’d never seen one before—some fae hadn’t left Faerie for centuries—or because in the land of the dead the mostly plastic car probably looked as if it was melting onto a pockmarked road. Still, she crawled in, cramming herself on top of the knapsack between Ryese and me. She then spent the entire ride staring mournfully at the bag under her. Not that anyone besides me noticed. I felt for her, but had no idea what I could do, so instead stared out at the growing darkness surrounding the car.

  With evening approaching, the street parking in front of the Bloom was packed with tourists’ vehicles. Falin took a side street and pulled into the small underground garage he’d parked in earlier. It wasn’t marked private, but most of the cars were the plastic and carbon fiber fae preferred—traditional cars had far too much steel and iron—so if I had to guess, I’d put money on the entrance being spelled so that only those who knew about the garage could see it or enter, much like the VIP door at the Bloom. That door was likely part of the reason this lot existed. Metered parking wasn’t great when the doors sometimes spit you out hours or days later than expected. I’d have to ask about getting a parking pass.

  Once the car was parked, the queen immediately started toward the Bloom. The clip of her pace and the swing of her arms said she was done with the mortal world—or maybe she was about to go tear her court apart searching for an alchemist’s lab full of fae being drained to death. Probably both.

  I jogged after her, and if it was anyone else, I would have grabbed her arm to stop her. But I had no interest in laying a hand on the Winter Queen.

  “We have a bargain to resolve,” I said, already out of breath from the minimal exertion. I needed that tie to Faerie and I needed it now.

  The queen swiveled on her heels and frowned at me. “You didn’t complete your part of the bargain.”

  “I—”

  “You agreed to find out who killed my subject. We still don’t know.”

  I could have cursed myself. I’d worked enough cases with the police to know the victim didn’t always know who killed them. Sometimes they were blitz-attacked from behind, blindfolded while held, or the perp wore a mask. And even if they did get a good look at the attacker and a sketch artist rendered a drawing from the description, the shade couldn’t give any feedback on how accurate the sketch was. Of course some victims knew their attackers and could identify them by name, but definitely not all. And I knew that.

  I should have paid more attention to the queen’s wording. Phrasing is important in a bargain. If I hadn’t been so focused on the stipulations she’d made, and how badly I needed my independent status, I’d have realized Icelynne needed to identify her attackers. The fae hadn’t been able to do that. Now I was stuck with an incomplete deal.

  I expected the queen to be smug. After all, she’d gotten hours of free use from my ability. Instead she sighed, her shoulders sagging as if she almost regretted not being able to bend the deal we’d made and give me my year and a day. “I can still make you a member of my court. It would stop you from fading.”

  Did I have a choice? There were other courts. Other rulers. My bargain with the queen wasn’t complete so I wasn’t bound to inform her if I went to another court. Maybe some other ruler would let me become independent. But what will I have to trade to them? I wouldn’t know until I tried.

  The queen’s eyes narrowed, obviously reading the resolve on my face. She sighed. “At least come back to Faerie with me. You’ll fade slower there,” she said, and then something else occurred to her, and she smiled, the curl of her lips sly. “And in Faerie you still have a chance to complete your side of the bargain. Help me find this killer, and I will be bound to grant your status.”

  She had a point. Maybe even a good point. But what good would blundering around Faerie really do for me? My grave magic, while neither offensive or defensive, was the one power I was really good at, and I had no access to it in Faerie. My witchy spell casting was dismal at best, my sensitivity to magic didn’t do a lot in a land where almost none of the residents could channel Aetheric energy, and I didn’t understand my planeweaving abilities—or the planes in Faerie for that matter—well enough for it to be helpful. I’d be like a child blundering around in a world I didn’t fully understand. What chance did I have there to find the alchemist?

  But what chance did I stand here?

  “How many Sleagh Maith are in the winter court?” I asked.

  “Too many to remand all to my dungeons for questioning.”

  And the fact she’d considered that a possible option was exactly why I had no intention of joining the winter court.

  I rubbed my temples with a finger and thumb. I wasn’t sure when my head had started hurting, but the headache was to the point of pounding now. I needed some sleep, and a clear head. But first I had to get to Tamara�
��s rehearsal dinner. I wasn’t late yet, but I would be soon, and I definitely didn’t want to chance passing through the door to Faerie again. I might miss the wedding entirely if it decided to act up and spit me out in the middle of next week. Maybe I’d go back to Faerie to search and ask some questions after the wedding. If I couldn’t find any other solution to my court problem, I might have no other choice.

  “I’ll consider it. But not tonight,” I said, and the queen’s smile faltered.

  “Fine.” The heel of her shoe clicked on the ground, accenting the word. Then she turned to Falin. “Accompany her. If she gets too weak, carry her back to Faerie if you have to. If my planeweaver fades, I’ll be very disappointed. The rest of you, let’s go.”

  Falin nodded without a word and passed the knapsack of bones to Ryese. He grimaced, taking the straps with two fingers and holding the bag away at arm’s distance, but he followed his aunt. The rest of the council fell in step behind them. The queen cast one more appraising gaze my way, then turned on her heel and bustled out of the garage. Maybe it was a display of power, or maybe it was just her irritation getting the better of her, but a trail of snow flurries followed in her wake. Despite the warm autumn night, they clung to the cement several seconds before finally giving up and melting into wet dots.

  The small procession had already turned the corner before I looked away. Falin said nothing, but walked back to his car, slid in, and then popped the passenger door open for me. I stared at it.

  Guess I have an uninvited houseguest a little while longer.

  • • •

  Roy, my self-appointed ghostly sidekick, was in my apartment when we arrived home. He’d apparently been pushing Scrabble pieces around on the counter for quite some time because he had several completed words. That might not sound like such a feat, but when you don’t exist on the mortal plane, manipulating objects that do takes quite a bit of energy and concentration. He looked up when I entered, his thick-framed glasses sliding down his shimmering nose.