by M. R. Forbes
Dead End
Ghosts & Magic, Book Four
M.R. Forbes
Published by Quirky Algorithms
Seattle, Washington
This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 by M.R. Forbes
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Tom Edwards
tomedwardsdesign.com
Contents
1. Reunited and it feels so…
2. Between a rock and a…
3. Ready. Set. Die.
4. Conor dies at the end.
5. Get a piece of the rock.
6. Them Bones.
7. Elevator Music.
8. Ashes, Ashes.
9. Dragon Shit.
10. Silly Rabbit.
11. It was all Yellow.
12. High School reunion.
13. Ghosts in the Machine.
14. Cogs in the Machine.
15. Honeymoon’s over.
16. Cheaters never prosper.
17. London calling.
18. Heroism sucks.
19. Leave me breathless.
20. Son of a lich.
21. Dead tired.
22. Well, that’s got to hurt.
23. Stained.
24. What lies beneath.
25. Human mating habits.
26. Who knew?
27. Macha Macha Macha.
28. Screwed.
29. Lost and found.
30. Jokers wild.
31. Round and round and round we go.
32. Same shit. Different day.
33. Welcome to the jungle.
34. Dark things in dark places.
35. Nothing more than feelings.
36. Damned.
37. Leverage.
38. I fucking hate fucking snakes.
39. Dead men tell no tales.
40. Break on through to the other side.
41. Whatever makes you feel better.
42. Once in a lifetime.
43. Leader of the pack.
44. Wash it away.
45. Georgia on my mind.
46. I was blind, but now I see.
47. Dead end.
48. Death becomes him.
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1
Reunited and it feels so…
I stood in the doorway, staring. What else was I supposed to do? Dannie was supposed to be dead. I was the one who buried her. Six feet under, after breaking the only promise she had ever asked me to make.
I had done it with the understanding that once you were dead, you couldn’t come back. Not unless an asshole like me raised you, and even then you weren’t actually alive.
Obviously, my understanding of everything was taking a major hit, so why shouldn’t I be wrong about that, too?
“Well?” Dannie said. “Are you just going to stand there gaping at me, or are you going to invite me in?”
I stood there gaping for another few seconds. “Dannie?” I said.
“No, Beyonce. What do I look like, Conor?”
Did she know what I had done? She hadn’t slapped me in the face yet. She wasn’t cursing at me. Did she even remember being dead?
“I just. I just can’t believe you’re here.”
In the moment, I had forgotten about my hand. I let it out from behind my back, reaching out to embrace her.
“Fuck, Conor,” she said. “What the hell happened to you?”
I ignored the question, taking her into my arms. I could feel the tears welling up. Only a soulless asshole wouldn’t cry in a situation like this. I was crying, so maybe they would.
How was this even possible? Death had said there was still a lot of shit I didn’t know. A lot of shit I was better off not knowing. It was probably better to leave it at that.
“Heh,” Amos said behind me. “What’s up, Dannie?”
She pushed away my embrace. “Amos.” She walked over to him, giving him a hug. He was crying, too.
Oddly, she wasn’t.
“It’s good to see you,” he said. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” she said.
“Do you know this fox?” Frank asked, watching the scene unfold.
“Yeah,” I said. “Danelle, this is Frank. Frank, Danelle.”
Frank put out his hand. “A pleasure.”
She took it. “Are you a friend of Conor’s, or just working with him?”
Frank laughed. “I’m not sure. Friend, I think?”
“He’s a friend,” I confirmed. “Dannie, can we talk? Somewhere private?”
She turned back toward me. “Don’t you think you should get that taken care of, first?” She pointed at my hand.
“It doesn’t hurt,” I said, lying. “We really need to talk.”
“We can talk here,” Dannie said. “We’re all friends, right?”
I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Yeah, Baldie,” Amos said. “We’re all friends, right?”
He had told me he knew what I had done. Had Death told him?
“Ok, fine,” I said. “Dannie, you know you were-” I waved my good hand, trying to come up with a more delicate word.
“Dead?” she finished. “Killed in action? Shot by a fucking little goblin because he was too damn jumpy?”
“I take it that’s a yes,” I said.
“Yes, I know I was dead, Conor. Let me condense things for you since you seem so skittish at the moment. I remember dying. I remember being somewhere else. I remember Death. He came to me there.”
“Where?” I asked, probably a little too eagerly. It was the question I had always wanted an answer to. The answer I was terrified of.
“He told me he needed your help,” she said, ignoring my question. “I laughed at him. Your help?” She smiled. “He told me what happened to me. It was a little hard to take at first, but I’ve always been adaptable. He’s got power, Conor. Serious power. He makes you look like raising the dead is a parlor trick.”
“A gross parlor trick,” Frank said.
“Thanks, Frank,” I replied.
“He let me see you. He let me watch you like you were a reality TV show.”
“How much did you see?”
“As much as I could. He couldn’t always find you. But I saw you with Jin in the garage.” She laughed. “That was smooth.”
I felt my face turning red.
“What garage?” Amos asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied. It didn’t now, except to prove she was telling me the truth.
“I’m sorry she’s gone,” Dannie said, her face softening. “I know you liked her, and regardless of anything I still want you to be happy.”
What did she mean by that? I was tempted to ask her if she knew about the graveyard, but if she didn’t, I would be giving it away. I knew I was a coward to stay quiet, but I had proven that part of myself plenty of times already.
“Thanks. I got a new friend out of the deal. You’ve probably seen him?”
“The dragon? Yeah.”
“What garage?” Amos asked again.
“I said it doesn’t matter,” I repeated.
“I want to know about the garage, too,” Frank said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you don’t want to tell us.”
“Let’s just say he was about to hit a home run with Ms. Red, but he wound up with a broken bat, instead.”
The heat in
my face increased while Amos and Frank both laughed at me.
“Thanks, Dannie,” I said.
She winked.
Did that mean she knew? Fuck, this was going to kill me.
“Can you get to the point?” I said.
“You have three days to decide whether or not to help Mr. D deal with Samedi,” she said, her face turning dead serious. “You need to know that if you do, you’re going to die.”
“I’ve taken dangerous jobs before.”
“No, Conor. Not, you might die. You will die. The only way to stop Samedi is to bring him to the other side. Only a necromancer can even begin to access the other side, so only a necromancer can do it.”
I felt a sudden chill.
“Why doesn’t Death do it himself?”
“He isn’t mortal.”
“So?”
“So he can’t touch mortals. Didn’t you notice that he never physically laid a hand on you?”
“He just put his hand on Kirin’s shoulder. I saw it.”
“No, he put his hand near her shoulder. You saw what you wanted to see.”
“Whatever. You’re saying if I take the job, I have to drag Samedi to where, exactly?”
“Through the gate to the other side.”
“What’s on the other side?”
“Conor,” Dannie said.
I was trying to get her to give something away. She was playing it cool. It was just like her.
“Okay, tell me more about the gate. Where is it?”
“I’ll tell you what I know once you make up your mind. If you help Samedi, you’re going to die.”
“And if I don’t help him?”
“I’m going to die. Again.” She looked at me, half-amused. “The good thing about that is, I’d rather be dead than be witness to what Samedi is going to turn the world into. Hmm. Oh. Who freed him again? That’s right, you did.”
2
Between a rock and a…
I had been waiting for the punchline since I had walked into my colleague’s office five years ago and he had told me I was going to die.
Now that punchline had been delivered, and I found that it wasn’t funny. At all.
“That isn’t much of a decision,” I said.
“Maybe not for most people,” Danelle replied. “But for you?”
“Come on, Baldie, you can’t be so afraid of dying that you’re going to let a lich take over the world, can you?”
I looked over at Amos. “Yeah, I think maybe I can.”
“You don’t have to do it alone,” Frank said. “I’ll help out.”
“Thanks, Frank.”
This was bullshit. Complete bullshit. I turned and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Danelle asked.
“You’re going to be here for at least three days, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to get some air.”
I left them there, going out to the stairwell and climbing it. I came out on a slimy, cold rooftop. It was drizzling. It felt so normal. I wanted to be normal. Why hadn’t I just died in the first place? Why hadn’t I stayed with Molly and Karen and let them watch me fade away? It had to be better than this.
I looked down at the stump where my hand had been thirty minutes earlier. The shock of losing an appendage hadn’t settled in, and I wondered if it could in this scenario.
I had to decide between accepting my greatest fear and sending Dannie back to the grave again. I had to decide if I was up for going to war against a lich who had claimed Mr. Black’s power, or if I would rather take my chances that the ageless asshole wasn’t aiming for world domination. I mean, it wasn’t like he was going to just accept my invitation to take a stroll to the netherworld. I was pretty sure he wanted to go there about as much as I did.
Dannie was right. Most people wouldn’t even have to think about this. Who wanted the end of the world on their scorecard? But I wasn’t like most people. I was a selfish bastard who had broken the only real promise I had ever made to my best friend. I was the self-centered dick who left his wife and kid because I didn’t want them to see me die.
If the end was coming, was I going to go into it coughing and hacking and risking everything for another hit of the cure, or was I going to spend my final days doing something right for once?
I sat on the edge of the building with my feet dangling over the side. For some reason, I felt almost invulnerable, like God wouldn’t allow me to die before He had a chance to finish the joke. Even if I did go after Samedi, how the hell was I supposed to do anything to him like this? I had lost the mask. I had lost the dice. I had lost the ring. I had lost my fucking hand. I was a necromancer and in the grand scheme of wizards not all that powerful. Samedi was a near-deity in Mr. Black’s clothing, with all of the powers and rights granted herein. There was no way.
I closed my eyes, feeling the cold tapping of the rain against my face. Well, there was one way. The closer I got to death, the more powerful my magic became. I’d never been on the verge of my last breath. I didn’t know what the limit was.
Maybe it was time to find out?
Or maybe not. What if Death was wrong? What if Dannie was wrong? What if there was some way out. Some trick or loophole? Some way to kick Samedi’s ass into the gate without going through myself? What if there was an alternative I hadn’t explored yet?
Why couldn’t I just accept that I was going to die? I had caused this entire mess, and it was up to me to fix it.
Responsibility had never been my strong suit.
I sat on the ledge and stared down at the street. I could hear the death magic in my head, pulsing and throbbing in its chaotic cacophony. It was insane, but I noticed the loss of the mask, the voice of Samedi in my head telling me to feed him. Stockholm syndrome?
I closed my eyes, focusing on the feel of the rain. Why did consequences always catch up? I preferred ignorance.
A scream from somewhere below me caused me to open my eyes. I looked down just in time to see something skinny and ugly chasing a woman across the traffic and into an alley. Why did people being chased always run into alleys? Yeah, maybe you could hide from the wendigo there. It wouldn't possibly be able to smell you.
I hesitated for a couple of seconds. Then I had a bright idea. Okay, it was a stupid idea, but it seemed fair at the time, and it suited my shitty mood.
I jumped.
3
Ready. Set. Die.
It never occurred to me that I might die, even though I was dropping from the top of a ten story building toward the concrete below. I was still thinking I was invincible, still in God mode until Samedi got around to killing me himself. As I continued to fall, I started to reconsider the position.
At least until Death caught me.
One second I was fifty feet off the ground. The next I was on it, my momentum broken by the magic of an immortal. He stood beside me, looking at me like a parent chiding their kid.
“Conor,” he said. “Does this mean you decline?”
“No,” I replied, moving away from him and turning my head back his way. “It means I needed a ride down, and my hunch was right. Give me a few minutes.”
People getting chased by wendigo wasn't common, but it also wasn't rare. The changed humans had a knack for slipping past control and making trouble, usually killing a few unfortunate innocents before they were cornered and killed themselves. I don't know why I decided to try to intervene. Maybe I thought doing something small would be enough to atone, and would get me out of doing something larger. Maybe I was still too raw from rescuing Kirin and feeling a bit magnanimous. Maybe I just needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t useless without the mask and dice.
I crossed the street, following the creature and the woman. I was vaguely aware of Death watching me, probably wondering what the fuck I was doing. I entered the alley as the woman ripped out a horrific scream. I was running out of time.
I slammed my hand against the side of a dumpster, making som
e noise to distract the wendigo. It seemed to work, because it appeared out of the darkness a moment later, pouncing toward me.
I rolled to the side, coming to my feet and facing it. I breathed in, sucking in death magic. I had memorized a few of the spells in the book Tarakona had given me. I wasn't usually strong enough to use any of them, but things had changed. I was down a hand, and that seemed to be making me more powerful, not less.
I muttered the incantation under my breath, holding out my good hand as the wendigo snarled at me, preparing to make another run.
I could hear the ugly symphony and feel it coursing along my hand. The wendigo threw itself at me, and I spoke the last word of the spell.
A black cloud exploded from my hand, reaching out like a vengeful dark spirit and catching the wendigo by the throat. It didn't make a sound, but it did collapse in front of me, it's flesh decaying in an instant, it's entire body a mess of dead flesh and bone.
I stood and stared at it. I had never done magic like this before. The only time I had come close was back in Oregon when Tarakona’s kid had been hatched. It was disgusting and amazing.
I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see the woman approaching. She was worn looking. A prostitute if I had to guess. She eyed the dead thing, and then she eyed me. I think she would have propositioned the dead thing first, based on the look she gave me.
