I thought back to our last meeting. "You said that it had been commissioned from a Chinese artist and later given to Marco Polo by the emperor."
"As indeed it was. But the person who commissioned it… well, there is no avoiding this revelation. The person who commissioned the statue was none other than myself."
Now, that took me by surprise. I don't know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn't that he was the one behind the creation of the statue some two thousand years ago. "So the statue was originally yours… Wait a minute." I dug through my recent memories and came up with something that didn't make sense. "You told me that the statue depicted Sun Wukong, the monkey god."
"As indeed it does," Caspar agreed.
I looked at him, a sense of dread building inside me until it was so great it spilled over onto Paen. He took my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over my fingers. What's wrong, love?
So many things, I don't know where to start. "You also said that the person who ordered the statue created was the god of death."
Paen's thumb stilled. Outside the room, the normal sounds of Edinburgh traffic faded away until it was as still as the room in which we sat.
"That is so," Caspar said finally, a tiny muscle twitching in his eyebrow the only sign that he was less than pleased that I had such a good memory.
"You are Yan Luowang, the god of death?" Paen asked.
"It is one of my names." Caspar made an odd sort of dismissive gesture with one hand. "Not one that I have used for some time."
"You're a god of death," I said, stunned. "A Chinese god of death. A real, honest-to-god god. Of death."
"God of the fifth hell, if I remember correctly," Paen said softly to me before frowning at Caspar. "But you told me you were an alastor. How can you be both?"
Caspar's shrug was a thing of elegance. "One does not reach heights of godhood without earning such a position. I rose through the ranks, naturally. I began as a mortal, became an alastor due to the intervention of a vengeful god, and eventually assumed the mantle of god of death. To be honest, it sounds much more impressive than it was."
I had an epiphany at that point. I'd like to think it was my own razor-sharp brain putting facts together, but I suspect it was my elf side seeing beyond the obvious. "You're also Oriens, aren't you? You're the demon lord who wants the statue."
The muscle in his eyebrow twitched twice before he got it under control. "How perspicacious of you. I see I underestimated you, my dear Miss Cosse."
Paen rose slowly to his feet. Fury rose in him, hot and red, and I knew he was going to lunge at Caspar, intending to punish the demon lord for threatening his mother. I couldn't let him do that, of course—even if Caspar didn't seem like one hell of a badass power, he was. I grabbed Paen's arm and dug my feet in. He snarled an epithet into my head. I held firm. No, Paen. You can't. I know you want to stop him, but even if he looks human, he's not. He's a death god. You can't beat him up.
"Interesting," Caspar said, watching Paen's struggle to contain his anger. "But counterproductive. I can't help being who I am any more than you can, nor do we have the time to waste in trivial shows of anger."
"Trivial!" Paen growled. I held on with both hands, murmuring soft words of reason into his head.
Caspar waved away Paen's objection as if it was a pesky fly. "Time is running out. If you do not bring the statue to me before midnight tonight, I will be forced to take what payment I can for your father's debt."
"You bas—"
I slapped my hand over Paen's mouth, oddly enough agreeing with what Caspar was saying. My darling, my sweet, sweet Paen, I would like nothing more than to see you rip him to shreds, but he's right. We don't have the time to waste hours arguing. We have to find that statue. Now.
We wouldn't be in this position if he hadn't invoked the debt! Paen snarled.
I know. And I agree. But there's nothing we can do now but find the statue and give it to him. So let's put aside the fact that Caspar is the source of all the trouble, and get the damned statue.
"I see you have reasoned with your lover," Caspar said with another cold smile as I half shoved Paen back into the love seat. "My estimation of you rises even more, Samantha."
I whirled around and made the meanest eyes I could at him, letting him see in them the extent of my feelings. "I swear to you by all that is holy in this world and the next, you will pay for all you have done. You have threatened the family of the man I love, and I will never forget nor forgive that."
His smile dimmed a couple of notches.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Am I correct in assuming that you still do not know where the statue is?"
"If I knew that, it would be in my possession this very moment," he said dryly. "Should I find it, I will naturally excuse the debt, but as I have had no luck finding it thus far, I am forced to rely upon one of you to bring it to me."
"Who is Pilar?" I asked, sitting next to Paen, my hand possessively on his leg. The muscles of his thigh were tense and tight, as if he was poised to spring. "Or rather, what is he?"
"Pilar?" Caspar looked surprised by the question, he looked truly surprised. "Pilar is a minion, a kung, a water demon of low caste. He should not concern you."
He doesn't know Pilar knows where the statue is. Do we tell him?
No. We need it to fulfill the debt. There's no guarantee that he will consider it met if he finds the statue first.
There's something we're missing here—he's a demon lord, god of death, and who knows what else. But he can't find one little statue?
A slow smile curled Paen's lips. I was glad he wasn't smiling it at me. Caspar's smile might have taken a few years off my life, but Paen's promised retribution at any cost. He's weakened. That's why he's appearing in mortal form—I'm a fool for not realizing that. The statue must be a source of power to him, and without it…
Before I could read the intention in Paen's mind, he was across the room, holding Caspar off the floor by his throat. "You will pay."
"You cannot harm me," Caspar choked out, the power crackling around him as it built up. "All you can do is guarantee your mother will suffer as your Beloved has. Now release me, Dark One, before I lose my temper."
"Let him go, Paen. Let's just get this over with so we can do our job."
Paen released Caspar. I stood next to him, a united front. "Right. Why do you want this statue so badly?"
Caspar adjusted his tie and brushed out the suit jacket that had been slightly wrinkled when Paen grabbed him. "It is my statue, as I have explained. I commissioned it. It was stolen from me and given to the emperor. All I seek is to have my property returned to me."
"You told Sam the secrets of the origins of the immortal races were held within it. Is that true?"
"I did not lie to her," Caspar said with an evasive air.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? I asked Paen.
That it's too much of a coincidence that the statue should contain the same information as the Coda?
Yep. I'm thinking there's more there than meets the eye.
"Where is Pilar now?" Paen asked Caspar.
The latter frowned. "Why do you wish to know about my minion? He is nothing, a weak kung, of no relevance."
"He's also murdered my Beloved. I have a score to settle with him," Paen said.
"And yet she still lives. Would you waste your time on something so immaterial as revenge?" Caspar asked, clearly surprised.
"We also think he might know something about the statue," I said, stepping lightly over the truth. "We'd like to talk to him. He might give us a clue."
"Pilar? Hmm." Caspar closed his eyes for a moment, the dark power aura around him suddenly snapping out feelers, as if he was sucking in power from the surroundings. Paen pulled me backward, out of reach of them. Caspar's eyes opened, anger visible in them. "He does not answer my summons."
I didn't look at Paen, but my fingers tightened around his. Pilar has double-crossed him.
So it woul
d seem.
"Where is he now?" Paen asked again.
"I do not know," Caspar admitted. "He is a water demon, so he must go to ground near the water, but I do not know his location at the moment. I will, however, have a few things to say when I find him."
"Let's get out of here," I said to Paen, my senses going nuts in the power-charged room. "I can scry Pilar's location."
"You have twelve hours," Caspar said as we brushed past him. "I must have the statue by the first hour of deep night, or your mother's soul will be forfeit."
Paen's arm shot out so fast, I almost didn't notice it. Caspar did, though. Paen's fist slamming into his nose drove the Chinese god of death backward into the wall, the impact of his body hitting it sending several delicate china cups to the floor. Caspar slumped down the wall and joined them.
"Oh, that was smart—just break the nose of a demon lord," I told Paen as we left the apartment. "Like he's not going to get you for that?"
"It was worth it," Paen said with a smile.
"Let's see if you're saying that later on tonight." I looked at his watch. "Oh, good, we're not late for the appointment with Owen Race. Let's hope the seer was right, and he does know exactly where the statue is."
"I don't doubt that the seer was correct," Paen said, getting into the car. "It's what Race will want in exchange for that information that worries me."
I slid in next to him, pointed out the side of his face was burned, and waited the few minutes it took for him to fade the burn away. "As I see it, we have an excellent bartering point. And since it is a good guess the statue and the Coda are tied together, it seems to me he'd want to help us find the statue so we can figure out where the manuscript is."
We drove the short distance to Owen's house without saying much more. Paen was apparently busy with his own thoughts, while I tried to digest the fact that Caspar had so deceived us. On the way there, I made a list of things we wanted to ask, but it was of little use.
"He's not here?" I asked the housekeeper as Paen and I stood in the hallway of the big old house. "Is he going to be back soon? We had an appointment to meet him this morning."
"He said nothing to me about that," the housekeeper said, plainly wishing we'd go and leave her to her work. "The last I heard from the professor he was in Barcelona, and wasn't expected to be back for several days."
I looked at Paen as the door closed behind us while we stood on the front steps. The sky was black and sodden, rain falling in an endless misery. "He's gone?"
"Evidently," Paen said, turning up the collar of his coat. "I think we should—"
He stopped abruptly, grabbing my arm in a grip that was almost painful.
"What? What is it? What's wrong?" I asked, a sudden chill brushing me.
He hauled me forward to the car, jerked the door open, and shoved me inside.
"Hey!" I said as he slammed the door and raced around to the driver's side. "What gives?"
He started the car and jammed his foot onto the accelerator. "It's Finn."
"Oh? Are they interviewing the poltergeist?"
"They were," he answered, his voice deep with anger.
What's wrong? What's happened? Why are you so mad?
Paen spun the car around an intersection, blithely disregarding both traffic safety and all applicable laws. It's Clare. She's been kidnapped. By a small, dark man with a monkey on his shoulder.
Chapter 18
"Where is she?"
Paen pulled up in front of a small, comfortable-looking bed-and-breakfast. Finn dashed from the protective shadowed doorway to the car, climbing into the backseat as I asked my question.
"I don't know," Finn answered, his face bloodied and black with anger. "The bastard grabbed her as we were talking with Reuben. I don't know what the hell he is, but he has some serious power at his control. He slammed me up against the side of the building before I even knew what was happening. I think I was knocked out for a few minutes, because when I came to he was shoving Clare back into her car. I tried to go after them, but didn't make it far on foot. I can promise you this, though—when I find the slimy wanker, I'm going to beat the living shit out of him."
"Sam?" Paen asked, waiting for me to tell him which direction to go.
"I'll try, but no promises." I closed my eyes and cleared my mind of everything until it was as blank as a clean sheet of paper. My thoughts went to Clare, visualizing her, drawing from within all the emotions that represented her. I saw Clare as a child at a birthday party, happy and laughing; Clare as a teenager on a double date, gorgeous and poised next to my gawky, awkward self; Clare as she was last week, helping me move furniture around the dusty, dank office, happy and excited and talking non-stop. I held all of those memories and emotions tight inside me, and used them to find where she was.
"To the east," I said, looking in that direction. "She's to the east of the city."
Paen pulled out a map from a pocket on the door, spreading it out on the steering wheel. "Can you pinpoint where?"
One possibility jumped out at me. I didn't hesitate as I tapped my finger on a large beige shape. "Dunstan Moor. I just bet you he's taken her there."
"Why?" Paen asked. "Why would he want to kidnap her in order to take her to a movie set?"
"It's not the movie set that's the attraction," I said, making shooing motions until Paen pulled out onto one of the major arterials leading to the east. "It's the lodestone."
"The what?" Finn had used a couple of tissues from my purse and wiped up most of the blood that had streaked down from a cut above his eyebrow, but he still looked pretty grisly, especially in the gloomy afternoon light. Like Paen, he had shadows under his eyes, making me wonder how much sleep the two had during the past few nights.
"Lodestone." I fell silent, wondering if it really was just four days ago when Paen had walked into my office. We're running out of time.
I know. The pain and regret was in his voice, seeping through despite his attempts not to worry me.
I don't want your mother to have to experience this, I said, rubbing a hand on my chest, as if that would ease the constant agony of howling wind that seemed to tear me apart from the inside out.
I know you don't, love. I don't want you to have to live this way, either. We'll find the statue and the manuscript. Don't worry.
"Lodestone like the magnetic stone?" Finn asked.
"That's one meaning of the word, but in the Fae world, it also refers to a location that is strong with the magic of the beyond, a place that draws elves and faeries. It's like a doorway between realities."
"Something like the place your office is located?" Paen asked.
"Like founded land, only multiplied by about a thousand times. Lodestones are treated as holy places, as sanctuaries where only the most ancient of rituals are held. There are only three in the UK."
"And Dunstan Moor is one of these lodestones?"
"Yes. I felt it when we were there the other day, but didn't think much about it. That's why Uilleam and the other ghosts had such a strong presence—the land itself was founded, making it possible for them to be more than just an apparition in our reality."
"You think Pilar has taken Clare there?" Finn asked.
I shrugged. "It's the only logical place I can see he might want to go to in this area. Although he's a demon, and as such can't use the lodestone as a doorway, it's conceivable he could tap its power by means of some being who could, like Reuben…"
"… or Clare," Paen finished the sentence.
I nodded.
"What did you find out from Reuben?"
"Nothing," Finn answered, disgust evident in his brown eyes. "It was a complete waste of time. He was clearly afraid of Pilar, and had been in hiding since Paen ripped off his arm." Finn paused for a moment. "Did you know that a poltergeist can't function without his arms?"
"Er… no," I said, sidetracked for a moment into wondering if they could do the starfish thing and grow back their limbs.
"Well, according
to Noelle, they can't. That's why Reuben was hiding from Pilar. He couldn't go into the beyond with one arm missing."
"Odd," Paen said.
I nodded. That pretty well sums up the entire last five days.
The rest of the trip was accomplished in near silence, our speculations of what Pilar might be trying with Clare too troublesome to put into words. We broke some serious traffic laws as we raced into the Lammermuir Hills, passing through gently rolling hills, small farms, and endless stretches of land dotted with sheep. The sky was black as huge, ominous clouds gathered to block the sun until it was almost as dark as night. Paen followed the signs pointing the way to Dunstan Moor, pulling in at the same viewpoint where we'd parked a few days before. Although night was almost upon us, the sun sinking behind the hills surrounding the area, huge arc lights lit up the ground beyond the cluster of trailers and collections of small tents used to house wardrobe and makeup personnel.
"Looks like they're filming again," Paen said as he helped me over the guardrail.
Sounds of men yelling, assorted deathly screams, and the inevitable clash of metal confirmed Paen's guess. I glanced at the field where the mock battle was taking place, then scanned the people outside of the range of the camera. No familiar shape caught my eye.
"To hell with them, I want to know where Clare is," Finn grumbled, following after us as we made our way down the low hill, angling slightly away from the bright lights.
I stopped for a minute and tried to locate Clare using my elf senses. I couldn't feel her presence specifically, but I had a hunch we would find her where the lodestone's strength was the strongest.
"I think she's over there," I told the two men, pointing to a small rocky cliff that rose behind the trailers. I started forward through the wild moor grass, heather, clumps of bracken, and occasional bluebell that made up the terrain.
"Sam," Paen said, taking my arm so I couldn't go any farther. "Stop. We need to have a plan of action."
"Plan of action? We're going to rescue Clare, find out from Pilar where the statue is, and then we'll get Clare to get it for us," I said, a little bit annoyed at the delay.
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