Deadwood Mystery 11 - Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  “Damn it, Parker!” Cooper barked as I huffed with my neck all cricked so that I was practically kissing my kneecaps. “Does everything have to be a circus act? What are you going to do for an encore? Juggle chainsaws?”

  “Fuck you, Coop.” I blew a curl out of my face, my cheeks burning. Criminy! Prudence had a way of bringing out the clown in me without even trying.

  “You okay, Sparky?” Harvey looked down at where I leaned against his leg.

  “Not really, and you have crumbs in your beard.” I could see them clear as day from my vantage point.

  Cornelius leaned over, peering down at me. His cornflower blue eyes sparkled with laughter. “I don’t know why you were surprised. I told you it wasn’t Zelda.”

  I scowled up at him, trying to reach up and knock that stupid hat off his head, but he pulled back too quickly.

  “Next time try not to be so damned cryptic!” I struggled to unwedge my butt from between the couch and the coffee table.

  Doc set the mirror down on the carpet, leaning it against the side of the couch safely out of the way. “Let me help you up, Killer.” He gripped my outstretched hands, tugging me back over the table and onto my feet. “Anything bruised?” he asked as he brushed some curls out of my face.

  “Besides my ego?”

  He tried not to grin and failed. “You keep life exciting.”

  Something brushed against my butt. Twice.

  I looked around in time to see Harvey peeling a couple of flattened honeybuns off my derrière.

  “No need to be wastin’ these beauties,” he said as one came free. He frowned down at the flattened mess, shrugged, and then took a big bite. “Mmmm-hmmm. Still good. Doesn’t taste like ass to me.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” I snatched what was left of the honeybun out of his hand and crammed it into my mouth. He was right. It was smashed but still delicious.

  “See,” Harvey said, apparently reading my expression. He grabbed another smashed honeybun from the serving plate on the floor.

  Doc picked up the other honeybun Harvey had peeled from my backside and took a bite. “This gives me an idea for later, Tish,” he said with a wink.

  I poked him playfully in the side, making him chuckle.

  Turning toward Cooper, I said, “Damn it, Prud—”

  But she was gone.

  Cooper stood there with his arms empty.

  “Where’d she go?” I asked him.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression about as befuddled as I felt when it came to Prudence’s parlor tricks. “I don’t know. I was distracted by your circus act, and when I looked down my arms were empty.”

  Cornelius cleared his throat. “Like I said, the entity was using a variation of astral projection with physical manifestation.” He picked up the serving plate of remaining flattened honeybuns from the floor and set it on the table. “I’ll have to make note of this for future reference.”

  “Are you going to write a book or something?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” One of his dark eyebrows crept upward. “Maybe you should use your psychic abilities to look into the future and tell me if I’m going to write a book.”

  “Cornelius, if I could see into the future, don’t you think I’d have told myself how to catch this damned lidérc?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe your future self doesn’t want to ruin any surprises for you. I believe my future self would enjoy playing practical jokes on me.”

  “I think my future self would sit on your future self for even starting this conversation.”

  “For Christ’s sake,” Cooper huffed. “Can we get back to the problem at hand and this astral projection business?”

  “It was quite a remarkable feat to witness,” Cornelius told nobody in particular and took another bite of his honeybun.

  “So was Sparky’s sideshow act,” Harvey joined in, snickering under his breath.

  I glared holes through each of them before turning to Doc. “What’s astral projection?”

  “It’s sort of like an out-of-body experience for Zelda, only in this case, Prudence created an apportation.” At my blank look, he added, “An in-body materialization projecting Zelda’s body on this plane of existence.”

  My facial expression didn’t change.

  He shrugged. “She did a very complicated magic trick using Zelda as her assistant.”

  Before I could reply, Zelda walked into the living room carrying an empty serving plate much like the one I’d sat on moments before.

  “I’m sorry for the delay, you guys,” she said. “But I sort of blacked out for a moment in the kitch—”

  She stopped midstride when her gaze dipped to Harvey and the honeybun in his hand. Then she saw the mug of milk sitting on the table. Thankfully, I’d missed knocking that onto the floor while doing my imitation of a bowling ball.

  Zelda frowned down at her empty plate. “That’s so weird. I could swear I hadn’t brought you the honeybuns yet.” She blinked several times, her skin paling. “Or the milk either. How did you …”

  Doc crossed the room and took the large dish from her. “Why don’t you have a seat for a moment.” He led her to the chair. “I think Prudence might have manipulated you in order to demonstrate her psychic expertise during your blackout.”

  “Demonstrate?” I scoffed. “More like show off.”

  Doc shot me a warning look. “A demonstration that we appreciated, as we still need Prudence’s help today.”

  In other words, I needed to zip my lips before I pissed off the dang ghost and she refused to tell me how to use the mirror.

  Zelda dropped into the chair. “That must be why I feel so tired all of a sudden.”

  I turned to Cornelius. “How did you know that wasn’t Zelda before?”

  He shrugged. “I saw something similar done once when I was still a lad visiting my grandmother in Louisiana. There’s a sheen to the skin when entities project themselves in such form. Almost like a pearlescent glisten when you look closely.”

  That was exactly what had made me reach out to touch Prudence’s face right before she scared the ever-lovin’ daylights out of me.

  “I noticed the glisten when she handed me my milk,” he continued. “But it took me a moment to remember where and when I’d seen it before.”

  Doc returned to my side. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t hurt your neck or anything?”

  “I don’t think so.” I stretched it side to side, not feeling any stiffness. I peeked back at my butt. There was a thin coating of glaze on my yoga pants. I tried to brush it off, but some of it was smeared into the fabric. “I’m good and sticky, though,” I said to him, wiping my fingers on my leg.

  “And sweet,” he added quietly. The wicked glint in his eyes made my heart skip a couple of beats.

  “Prudence wants to know where you found that mirror,” Zelda said, leaning back in the chair and resting her arm on her head. “She’d also like you to try to answer without using such vulgar language, but she’s not sure you’re capable of constructing a sentence without using profanity.”

  I bit back a very vulgar and profane reply and grabbed my family’s hand-me-down from where Doc had left it by the couch. “This mirror has been passed down through my line for many generations.” I held it up for Zelda and Prudence, wherever she was, to see. “It’s why I came to see you both today. I need Prudence’s help with how to use it.”

  Zelda looked to the side for a moment, as if in thought, but I knew better. Prudence was chatting in her ear. I wondered why Cornelius couldn’t hear it. Maybe this was another case of Prudence controlling who she wanted to hear or see her. Or maybe she was speaking directly into Zelda’s mind so Cornelius couldn’t hear her.

  Jeez, this medium business was like flying through a hurricane with no radar. I had to go with my gut most days, and my gut was scared shitless half the time, curled up in a ball under the bed. How had Doc stayed sane all of these years while trying to manage a regular life al
ong with his abilities?

  Zelda nodded and then focused on me. “Prudence wonders why you don’t know how to use your own mirror.”

  I ignored the condescending attitude underlying that question. “Tell her there were no instructions given to me. All I know is that there are tiny bits of ruby and quartz mixed into the mirror, possibly for protection and empowerment, and that the symbols on the frame are most likely alchemy-based.”

  Zelda’s gaze lifted to the ceiling for a few beats before returning to me. “She asked if you’ve looked into the mirror, and if so, what have you seen?”

  Was that a trick question? “Of course, I’ve looked in it.”

  I stared at the mirror, seeing my fading black eye and wrinkled brow. My hair was a bit of a mess, too. I plucked a crumb from it that had probably dropped from Harvey’s beard when I landed at his feet.

  To Zelda, I said, “I see myself in it, same as any other mirror.”

  Zelda nodded at my answer, and then one eyebrow lifted. “Hmm. Prudence says that you’re probably not looking at it the right way.”

  “There’s a wrong way to look into a mirror?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my tone.

  Doc cleared his throat, reminding me to try harder.

  “Prudence warns that you have to be careful with special mirrors like yours. You don’t know what might be looking out at you while you’re staring into the glass.”

  That gave me goose bumps. How many times had I looked into this mirror to check my hair or teeth? When I was young, I often smiled at the curly-haired blond girl looking back at me. Had there been something in there watching me all of this time? I turned the mirror toward Cooper so whatever might be playing Peeping Tom could gaze at him for a bit.

  He noticed my plan and shot me a knock-it-off scowl.

  “Prudence claims to have seen a mirror similar to yours used twice before—once when she was a child, and then again when she was not yet twenty.”

  Before I could ask about what happened, Zelda held up her index finger. “Hold on, she’s going to tell me both stories.”

  While I waited for Zelda to listen to Prudence’s answer, I exchanged furrowed brows and shrugs with Doc and Harvey. Cornelius was too busy playing with his lucky cannon—which I’d learned long ago that he carried everywhere—to look up at me. Cooper, meanwhile, just frowned at everyone, including his watch. He must be in a rush to return to the mountain of paperwork he often complained about when he wasn’t blaming me for it.

  Finally, Zelda winced, sucking air between her teeth. “Oh my. She says that the first time she saw one used, the slayer was able to capture the malevolent spirit in the mirror, but an ‘innocent’ had to be sacrificed in the process. The mirror was then shattered to keep the spirit imprisoned.”

  That wasn’t so bad of a story when it came to Executioner tales. However, I didn’t like the idea of having to sacrifice someone, unless I could choose a certain sperm-donor bastard. Prudence’s tale reminded me even more of Layne telling me about the movie Constantine and the demon caught in the mirror.

  “And the second?” Doc pressed.

  “That one didn’t go so well.”

  “The slayer died, I take it,” Cooper said.

  “Not at first.” Zelda shuddered. “Somehow, the creature that had been captured in the mirror was able to reach back out and latch onto the slayer. It pulled her through the glass. While she was on the other side, something else that had been captured in the mirror found her and tore most of her skin from her body.”

  Yikes! “How could Prudence know about this if it happened inside the mirror?”

  “Because whatever skinned the slayer sent her back to this plane still alive as a warning.”

  Holy shit! “It sent her back?”

  Zelda nodded. “Prudence speaks of her screams of agony before she died.”

  Why did so many of these Executioner tales have to end in horrific deaths? Didn’t any villains just scatter pixie sleeping dust around and kill them in their sleep?

  “Prudence spoke of someone named Juliette, who helped her try to figure out if there was a way to send the slayer back into the mirror to heal her, but their efforts were unsuccessful.” Zelda sent me a sad look. “After several hours, Prudence had to put the poor slayer out of her misery. Then she and Juliette broke the mirror into several pieces. They traveled great distances to bury each piece in a different location so the mirror could not be put back together and the fiends inside would stay imprisoned for good. She’s despised mirrors ever since.”

  “Christ,” Doc said, wiping his hand down his face. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to use this mirror to catch anything, Violet, let alone the lidérc.”

  “How can I find out if there is something already trapped in this mirror?”

  Zelda paused, as if in thought, then answered, “She says to look in it.”

  “I already did.”

  Zelda held up her hand. “One moment. She’s reciting something in a language I don’t know.” After a few seconds, she lowered her hand. “Okay, she says to look in it now.”

  I glanced at Doc first, who was watching me with a very crinkled forehead. He nodded slightly, giving me the go-ahead.

  Cringing, I stared down into the mirror. My black eye was still there, along with my curls that were spiraling out all over. “Okay, I’m looking.”

  “Now close your eyes and hold the mirror with both hands on the frame,” Zelda ordered. “Do not touch the glass.”

  I obeyed, wondering if this was going to be another one of Prudence’s parlor tricks, and why she wasn’t willing to take over Zelda and use her as a puppet like she had in the past instead of making her play messenger this time.

  With my eyes closed, I could hear the fire crackling, Cooper’s coat rustling as he shifted, Harvey licking his fingers, and somebody breathing heavily—wait, that was me.

  “She says to speak the mirror’s name and then open your eyes again.”

  Speak the … “I don’t know the mirror’s name.”

  Why would a mirror have a name? Was it like “Joan the Amazing Mirror”? Or maybe something nice and easy like “Diane.” Or could it be something more elaborate like “Excalibur of the Looking Glass”?

  “Prudence is astonished that you do not know the name of your own mirror.” Zelda then added in a whisper, “And she doesn’t mean that in a nice way, Violet.”

  I had little doubt that Prudence was rattling off a litany of insults about me and my family line at this very moment. “Remind her that the mirror was handed down without instructions.”

  “Hold still, Violet,” Zelda said. “She is going to read the symbols on the frame to see if she can help, but she doesn’t want you to move or open your eyes, because it puts her at risk of being trapped inside the glass.”

  “This is some crazy fucking shit, Nyce,” I heard Cooper mutter.

  “Wait until you see what’s in the mirror,” Cornelius told him. “My grandmother warned me that looking glasses were tools often used by the most heinous architects of evil.”

  “You think there’s one of them there white grizzlies starin’ out at us?” Harvey whispered.

  I growled under my breath. “Would you guys be quiet? This is freaky enough without the peanut gallery trying to scare the bejeesus out of me, too.”

  “Next time, Parker, maybe you should bring your teddy bear to keep you safe.”

  “I did, and he’s going to kick your ass at poker for me the next time you guys play.”

  “She’s right,” Doc said. I could hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll probably make you cry a little for picking on my girlfriend, too.”

  “You can kiss my crying ass, Nyce.”

  “Okay,” Zelda said, stopping all other chatter. “Violet, Prudence wants you to think back. Way back.”

  “To childhood?”

  “Farther, into your ancestral memories.”

  “How can I think farther if I wasn’t even born?”

  “
Wait.” Zelda stopped me. “Oh, I don’t want to say that to Violet,” she said, which I assumed was directed at Prudence.

  “Say what?” I asked.

  “Well, these are Prudence’s words not mine.”

  “Fine. What did she say?”

  “That even a line as slovenly and simple-minded as yours should have herd memory in your blood.”

  “That’s it,” I snapped. “I’ve had enough of Prudence’s insults and …”

  Arcana, a voice whispered to me.

  Actually, it sounded a lot like my voice.

  “Arcana,” I repeated aloud and then as Prudence had instructed, I opened my eyes.

  The sight of my face covered in blood and chunks of something pink and fleshy filled the frame. My reflection’s eyes were wide, white-rimmed, horror-filled, staring back at me through all of the blood. As I watched with a cry of horror lodged in my throat, my face started to peel in thick, fleshy strips, exposing bone and cartilage underneath. One of my eyes slipped out of its socket and dangled on my bloody cheek.

  I gasped, finally able to breathe again. Then I screamed and closed my eyes again, squeezing them tight.

  Make it go away! Make it go away! Make it go away!

  “Shit criminy, girlie,” Harvey slurred through a mouthful of food. “You made me spill my milk.”

  “Violet,” Doc said in my ear. “What did you see?”

  I opened one eye, peeking back into the mirror. It was just me again.

  I shoved the mirror toward Doc, shuddering after he took it from me while wiping my hands off on my pants.

  “What in the hell was that, Prudence?” I yelled at the ceiling. “Was that another one of your asshole projections?”

  “Astral projection,” Cornelius corrected.

  “Whatever!” I paced in front of the table, still wiping my hands off on my sweater. “Answer me, Prudence. What was I looking at?”

  Harvey glanced up from wiping off his spilled milk with his handkerchief. “She must have seen a ghost,” he said to Doc, who was staring down into the mirror.