Dreams of the Forgotten Dead

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Dreams of the Forgotten Dead Page 8

by Eric Asher


  “You can see her too?” I asked.

  “As clear as a summer’s day.” Hess slowly turned her head to the side. “It is harder than I imagined to see her burn in that way.”

  “Is it actual fire?”

  “Not in the sense of the flame. It is the magic of the basilisk that followed her into that prison. Cursed to suffer frozen death, only to be damned to a fate far worse.”

  “Can we get her out?”

  “It is possible,” Hess said. “But I fear whatever would come out of that mirror would have a little left of the Utukku I knew as Aseer.”

  “Like a perpetual wound from a stone dagger,” Shamus said. “That is a fate I would wish on none.”

  “All may not be lost,” Hess said. “The fates align in curious ways.”

  “What do you mean, lass?” Calbach asked.

  Hess glanced up at the iron-touched. “Aseer was a great hunter and an even greater scholar. She was gifted in the knowledge of the basilisks, perhaps more than any other Utukku.”

  “Maybe if Hess holds the mirror?” Foster asked. “Maybe she can ask Aseer a question?”

  Hess shook her head. “A veil mirror does not work the same for an Utukku. It will show us the rewards of our darkest impulses, and that is something I cannot see ever again.”

  “You held a veil mirror before?” I asked.

  “Once. In ages past. Part of an old ritual that I am grateful to say has long been abandoned.”

  “Why would they make you do that?” Aideen asked.

  Hess studied the fairy. “We did it willingly. We were raised to believe that to see the darkest part of oneself would bring enlightenment. But many who looked into that mirror saw only what they could earn, be it love or material things, and they embraced that darkness. It is a dangerous thing to know what one is capable of.”

  The concerned look on Shamus’s face shifted to something else. Even with the undine’s expression half hidden by his beard, I recognized an edge of sympathy. And I supposed, in a way, Shamus knew what it was like to be disconnected from others of his own kind. Perhaps there were similarities between that kind of isolation and the different realms in which the Utukku existed.

  I turned my attention back to Hess. “You can see her if I hold the mirror. Can she hear you?”

  “Aseer can hear all of us. It is a relief and a curse for those imprisoned inside the mirrors. But given enough time, there’s not so much left of who they were.”

  “Try. She’s looking right at you.”

  The ghost took a deep breath. I always found it odd when they did that.

  “Aseer. I am Hess. You were once my mentor. A great teacher of many hatchlings. Hear me now, for one of our great enemies has traveled to another realm, and the world faces a basilisk for which it is not prepared.”

  I cursed silently to myself. Hess had more of a relationship with the Utukku trapped inside that mirror than I could have imagined.

  The flames rising from the sockets of Aseer’s skull dimmed, and that fiery gaze locked on Hess. The jaw moved, but I could hear nothing.

  “Can you hear her?”

  “No,” Hess said. “The barrier to the veil is as strong as ever. We are silent as stone, and Aseer is still silenced behind it.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “My teacher, and an ancestor.”

  “Do something stupid,” Foster said to me as he leaned over the mirror.

  I gave the fairy a nervous grin because—if I was being honest with myself—I was already considering doing something stupid.

  “Damian …” Aideen started.

  But I reached out to the surface of the mirror, and let a small thread of golden power coalesce at the tip of my index finger.

  The Utukku in the mirror frantically looked back and forth as if trying to find a way to escape the encroaching golden light. I let my finger rest on the black glass and sound dulled all around us.

  “Aseer,” Hess said, leaning closer to the glass.

  Aseer’s flaming skull focused, her eyelights narrowing. “Why can I hear voices? I thought this was oblivion.”

  “Then you are not in pain?”

  “There is pain. There is fire. But I thought that was all there is.”

  Hess glanced at me and then back to the mirror. “My name is Hess. Can you remember me?”

  There was no answer for a time. And then the skull began to move. “Fourth in our generation, last of the second Empire, wielder of the spear. I know your name.”

  “There is a basilisk in the realm of the commoners.”

  “Then it must be destroyed, by spear or flame.”

  “It has carved a great lair beneath a large city. I fear we will need to battle it underground if we are to protect the innocents who live above it.”

  “You cannot protect all from the basilisk. Only death can stop its rampage. Unchecked, it will spawn, and its lair will grow, and all will become ruin. You will need eyes to look upon the basilisk and shield you from its power. There are legends among the mage solis. Seek them out.” The fiery eyes of Aseer locked onto Hess. “You speak to me from the spirit realm. Why?”

  “A necromancer.”

  “Filth, dispatch it as you would the basilisk.”

  I gave the mirror an awkward smile.

  Hess’s narrow lips twitched. “He is an ally. A friend of our queen, and the one who slayed the Mad King.”

  “The Mad King is dead?”

  “For a second time,” I said. “Maybe a third. I’m not sure.”

  Aseer’s gaze flicked from me back to Hess. “Be cautious. There are many who would seek the power of the basilisk for themselves. And it will lead them into a darkness they cannot imagine.”

  In this case, I didn’t think Aseer was talking about a metaphorical dark. And Hess’s words confirmed it.

  “You found darkness at the end of your hunt. But it will not be in vain. I will slay the basilisk, and it will be your training that gave me such skills. A Spirit Hunt, and one that I will not fail.”

  “Then leave me in darkness, young one, until all is light.”

  Hess touched her forehead and bowed to Aseer before the mirror darkened, and we were left in silence.

  I set the mirror back into the coffin and stepped away. The golden light in my finger faded, and I felt pretty relieved that “stupid thing” hadn’t gone badly.

  “Nothing exploded,” Nixie said, and I didn’t miss the hint of surprise in her words.

  Aideen nodded. “And we’re all still alive.”

  “Is that an unusual thing?” Shamus asked.

  “Sometimes,” Aideen said with a smile.

  “I need a drink.” Foster snapped into his smaller form and glided down to stand next to Aideen on the edge of the coffin. “Some of these books look ancient.”

  “They are. And I don’t think the newer ones have been preserved by wards.” Aideen tapped the binding on a thinner tome. “Is that your dad’s handwriting?”

  “I think so. It looks like one of the journals he used to write in. He had a blessed pen that never ran out of ink. I wonder if Mom kept it.”

  “I doubt Nudd would have liked to have been reminded she had a husband before him.”

  Foster scoffed. “Like I wasn’t reminder enough?”

  “Yes, but you were useful. A blessed pen would have been a grand gift, and not one easily dismissed by the Lords of Faerie.”

  Hess frowned at the exchange. “None of these things will help us defeat a basilisk.”

  “Hess has a point,” I said. “Why don’t we grab a table at Salt and Smoke and wait for Edgar? I could really do with a good bourbon. Shamus, Calbach, you’re welcome to join us.”

  Calbach shook his head. “I have a few things to finish up here before I return to Gorias. I do appreciate the offer. And should you find yourself in the golden city, you’re welcome to buy me a drink.”

  “I’m going,” Alexandra said. “Shamus?”

  “If it is the same to you,
I would like to discuss our needs with the journeyman. He seems to welcome the idea of working on behalf of Atlantis.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “On a part-time basis, right?”

  “Of course, My Prince. I would not seek to undermine your … what is this place, exactly?”

  Everyone apparently found that to be hilarious.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After some debate, Hess volunteered to stay behind to bond with the cu siths and keep Nugget company. The streets of Saint Charles saw some weird shit, but even I had to admit a corporeal ghost of an Utukku walking into a restaurant in the middle of the day might be a little suspect.

  It was a relief to see more businesses thriving on Main Street again. I had worried none of the restaurants would survive by the time the commoners returned, but thankfully many had. A few others had changed ownership, and I was curious to see what the new tenants would do with Trailhead. I’d miss the old brewery, but at least something would still stand in its place.

  Salt and Smoke was one of the newer places, full of barbecue, bourbon, and today a clandestine meeting with an immortal. Edgar, known to some as Ra, hadn’t started out on the best terms with me. That was partially my fault, but also partially the bias he had against necromancers, in general.

  It had led to an odd alliance over the past years, which was a much nicer change than what I’d consider to have been a bitter rivalry in the early days. I sipped at a neat pour of Michter’s and eyed Edgar’s pale beer.

  “I would have thought you’d like those super-hoppy IPAs.”

  Edgar cringed at the mere mention of IPAs. “I’d prefer a good honey mead, if given the choice. But a light beer reminds me a bit of my youth. Hops weren’t used where I grew up. Fermented grain, a little seasoning, and wait until it could drop a drunk uncle to the floor.”

  Nixie laughed at that, and it was quite a visual. It took me a moment to realize she’d probably seen things like that, probably tasted ancient drinks that we didn’t even have a name for anymore. It was hard to imagine a life so long.

  Alexandra took a long pull from her IPA. “Give me hops. If it doesn’t taste like freshly mowed grass, I don’t want it.”

  “Unless it’s scotch.” Nixie elbowed Alexandra.

  She pursed her lips. “Well, that’s true.”

  The hostess had been nice enough to seat us in the corner on the top floor, so the only person we saw was our server. She came around to drop off appetizers and then vanished down the stairs again. I hadn’t even seen her swap out my empty glass for a full one, and Nixie smiled at my obvious surprise.

  But if I was being honest, my surprise was outweighed by my excitement over the plates of deviled eggs with bacon and burnt end toasted ravs.

  Alexandra frowned at the square chunk of breaded and deep-fried ravioli. “I will never understand this city and its obsession with fried pasta.”

  “Really?” Edgar dunked a ravioli in the dipping sauce. “It is one of the few things I agree with them completely on.”

  “When was the last time you tried one, Alexandra?” I asked.

  “With that horrid pizza delivery we had at Rivercene.”

  I tried to remember when that was, and the fact that I couldn’t told me it had either been a very long time ago, or it hadn’t been very good at all.

  I shook my head. “Try one of these. If this doesn’t change your mind, nothing will.”

  Alexandra scowled at me, but she picked up a toasted rav anyway. She nibbled at the side and shrugged. “It is a fried dough. If I was going to eat something like this, why wouldn’t it be a nice pastry? Or at least a doughnut?”

  “One little bite.”

  She narrowed her eyes, but took a larger bite of the ravioli. I didn’t have to wait for her to speak to know that at some level, she changed her mind. She chewed a little faster, paused, and then took another bite.

  “Not too bad?”

  “While I don’t particularly want to admit you are right, this is rather excellent.”

  “Food is one thing you can trust Damian on,” Edgar said.

  “Thanks?” I said under my breath.

  Edgar tipped his bowler and turned his sweating glass between his fingers. “So, what is it you wanted to discuss?”

  I leaned back and blew out a breath. “Straight to business?”

  “It will be easier to enjoy our entrees if business has been concluded.”

  “Practical and stylish.”

  Nixie snorted a laugh into her drink.

  “Well, at first, I wanted to ask you about a peacock that glows gold sometimes. But then we found out there’s a basilisk lair beneath a good chunk of St. Louis County, and my priority shifted a bit.”

  Edgar removed the bowler from his head and slid it onto the hanger his jacket was on. Somehow I wasn’t surprised the Watcher had a portable hanger to keep it from getting wrinkled.

  He took another drink and met my gaze. “You have met one of the great peacocks?”

  “He’s nesting with the cu siths right now. And the ghost of their mother? That was a side effect of dragging Hess out of the spirit realm. The cu sith she was bonded to came with her.”

  Edgar nodded as if that was a perfectly normal occurrence. “Some of the spirit realms intersect. It is another reason necromancy was once universally feared. The ability to reach between realms is not to be taken lightly. But how have you come into the possession of the peacock?”

  “He was a gift from Nagma.” Nixie picked up a deviled egg and started snacking on it as she looked back to Edgar.

  “From Sri Lanka?”

  “The same.”

  “I thought she was loyal to Lewena. An act?”

  Nixie nodded. “And a good one. I’m not sure if we’ll ever fully know where Nagma’s loyalties lie, but she sent Nugget, and I believe a warning of a potential assassin.”

  “I suppose there is never a lack of excitement when one is royalty.”

  “Figure you can relate to that,” I said.

  “Indeed. There were times the world turned against the mage solis, as well. I was not always thought so benevolent.”

  “So, can you help us with either of these problems? Or do I need to call a handyman?”

  Edgar laughed and took a sip of his beer. “I believe there is one thing you have not yet realized. You do not have two issues. You have one. Nagma knows more than she has told you because the peacock is the ultimate foil to the stealth of a basilisk. If he chooses to, he can share his vision with you.”

  “The bird?”

  “Yes. I know it will be troublesome for you, but you must ask politely.”

  “How are you supposed to do that?” I muttered.

  Edgar smiled. “How is it you know the lair of the basilisk is large?”

  “I saw it. When I connected with Hess’s ghost, the vision opened up like a map.”

  Nixie’s fingers clamped down on my wrist. “Damian, the peacock was there too. He was at your side when you saw that.”

  And she was right. I remembered the bird brushing up against me. “But if that’s the case, why haven’t I had visions every time I touched the bird?”

  “He is more than a bird,” Edgar said. “He has a will and makes decisions, perhaps less complex than you or I, but he can choose to show you visions or choose to let you be eaten by a basilisk. These things are uncertain.”

  I blinked.

  “Should we be worried about Nagma?” Nixie asked.

  “About her safety?” Edgar rubbed his chin. “Maybe. About whether or not she is a threat to you? I do not believe so. She knows much about you and about your allies. The peacock will see your allies’ bond to the cu siths, creatures normally feared by most. And they are right to fear the cu siths. But you will show strength beyond that, and the peacock will not forget.”

  “You sound like it’s going to give us a personality test,” I said.

  Edgar nodded. “That is a fair parallel to draw. But what I do not believe Nagma could have ant
icipated is the beginning of a Spirit Hunt. That, as they say, is dumb luck.”

  “How is that luck?” I asked.

  “All of those books in your shop, have you ever read them?”

  Nixie let slip a quiet laugh. “Honestly, it’s like he doesn’t do anything else.”

  “Hey.”

  “Except that one time he got himself caught by the Mad King. That was exciting.”

  “Hey.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “I seem to recall something about a pirate and a dead parrot?” Alexandra said.

  I waved my hands. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.”

  “They have, of course,” Edgar said. “Because it is what you are that allowed all of those things to occur. The power of the Spirit Hunt and a necromancer are complementary. A push and pull, where Hess will be able to draw from you, and you from Hess.”

  “And that has an effect on Nugget?” I asked.

  Edgar nodded. “The peacock’s ability to see, or perhaps more accurately to reveal, is enhanced by the powers that surround it. And you are in a unique position. A necromancer bonded to a Titan, bathing in the light of the Spirit Hunt. There are few who have fought a basilisk and survived, but that may give you some chance.”

  “What about the reapers?” Nixie asked. “When Ward fought a basilisk in Faerie, he had the help of the reaper.”

  “Above ground, a reaper would be a powerful ally against the basilisk. Inside its lair, the basilisk has the advantage. I do not know if Drake would get involved. I would not take Jasper into that lair. Vicky is formidable, but she has seen enough these past weeks to overwhelm the best of us. If you must involve her and Jasper, keep them above ground.”

  “Only as a last resort,” I said, exchanging a glance with Nixie.

  She inclined her head.

  “It is a unique opportunity,” Edgar said. “Should you succeed, you could arm your guards with a new generation of stone weapons. Should you fail, you may provide an opportunity to your enemies.”

  “Pretty sure if we fail, we’re dead,” I said.

  “There is truth in what you say. Basilisk venom is dangerous, but its gaze is what you must be most concerned with. Look only through the eyes of the peacock, or you risk joining those undines at the bottom of the river. And be wary. The greatest of the basilisks can slay Old Gods and immortals.”

 

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