The Forgotten

by Bishop O'Connell

  Con arched an eyebrow. “You don’t remember what you remember either?”

  After a moment, Wraith finally said, “I remember . . . pancakes?”

  “I love pancakes,” Sprout said.

  Wraith nodded. “I was having chocolate chip pancakes.” She tapped her forehead and scattered images began to shake loose. The words escaped without her thinking about them. “And Jesus was playing a trumpet. The doctor said I should do something, but there was this tattooed woman in an evening gown—­ Was that before or after the funeral?”

  “Doctor?” Con asked. “Well that explains a lot, doesn’t it?”

  “What? Sorry.” She looked at him, but the thoughts and images were bouncing around, so it was hard to keep things straight. Wraith ran a hand through her short hair. “It was the bacon, I think, or the coffee. No, Shadow was having the coffee. Or was it both of us?”

  “Shadow?” Con asked.

  “It was important,” Wraith said and brought both hands up to her hair. Feeling the almost pixie cut, she froze, except for touching all around her head. “I think my hair is supposed to be longer.”

  Con blinked. “Brilliant, you’re a bleeding nutter.”

  “Con, be nice,” a strong masculine voice said.

  Wraith spun and saw two boys in the now-­open doorway. One was taller than Wraith and rail thin. The overlarge shirt with a Superman S on it only added to the effect. He wore glasses and short dreadlocks fell in all directions from his head. A large canvas bag rested on his shoulder. The other boy was closer to twenty years old, with broad shoulders and chiseled features. When he smiled, Wraith felt herself flush.

  “Calling it like I see it, mate,” Con said. “She’s the one what mentioned a doctor.”

  The two boys stepped inside the room.

  “Ovation!” Sprout ran to the older boy with her arms open.

  He set down a guitar case, bent down, and gave her a hug. “Hey, midget.”

  “What took so long?” Con asked.

  “The usual spots were dead,” the skinny boy said. “And that dog is still circling the place. We had to take the back way to avoid him.”

  Wraith narrowed her eyes. “Dog?”

  Ovation gave her a smile that made her heart beat a little faster. “Glad to see you’re awake. You met Con and Sprout.” He said the last part as he tousled the girl’s hair. “I’m Ovation, and that’s Geek.”

  The skinny boy waved.

  Wraith only vaguely heard them. Her mind was struggling to put pieces together.

  “You okay?” Ovation asked.

  “Did I call it, or what? She came to a little bit ago and went wonky,” Con said.

  Wraith’s brain clicked. “What did he look like?”

  “What? Who?” Ovation asked.

  “The dog.”

  “He was big,” Geek said.

  Ovation stood up. “He looked kind of like a big coyot—­”

  “Toto!” Wraith bolted for the door.

  “Geek, stop her!” Con shouted.

  Geek dropped the bag and grabbed her arm as she went by, but the look on his face was unsure.

  Wraith tried to get loose, but his hand was like a vise. He barely even moved with her struggles. “Let me go, damn it! That’s my dog!”

  “Just take it easy,” Ovation said. “We’ll take you to him, but we can’t just let you throw open the outer door.”

  “Please, calm down,” Geek said.

  Something about those words made Wraith freeze. She looked from the skinny boy to his friends. When she finally understood how absurd she was acting, she looked at the floor and a few tears fell to the concrete. That’s when she saw the bag at Geek’s feet was loaded with canned food. It must’ve weighed a hundred pounds, easy.

  “You’re making her cry!” Sprout said.

  Geek snapped his hand back. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—­”

  “I don’t think it was you.” Ovation put a hand on Wraith’s shoulder. “We’re not going to hurt you, but I can’t let you put us at risk.”

  Wraith stared into his eyes. Things in her head started to feel chaotic. “My friends are gone, and I have no idea what happened to them. I don’t know where I am or how I got here. I just want my dog.”

  “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?” Geek asked again.

  Wraith shook her head and knelt on the floor. She just wanted to get to Toto and get gone. She knew her friends needed her, but she didn’t know why or even where they were.

  Ovation sat down, looked her in the eye, and spoke softly. “You’re in the Emerald City.”

  Wraith looked at him quizzically.

  “It’s what they call Seattle,” he said. “Because of all the plants. We’re just outside downtown. Anyway, I couldn’t just let you leave, because we have wards around this place. That’s why we were surprised to find you in our living room without having tripped any of them.”

  “Then could you just take me to get Toto?” Wraith looked at each of them in turn, finally stopping on Ovation. “Please.”

  “Of course.” He helped her to her feet, then led her and the others down a short hallway to a second door. It was old gray painted metal with signs of rust, but it looked heavy and tough.

  “Cover your ears,” Ovation said.

  Wraith narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  “Just trust me.”

  Ovation stepped to the door, said something, and brought his hands together. Even with her ears covered, Wraith felt the sonic boom reverberate through her bones. The door shuddered and small symbols briefly lit around the frame.

  That’s when Wraith noticed the small equations that were laced together and surrounding the doorframe. It was rudimentary, and she could see the obvious holes that could be exploited to unravel the whole thing.

  Ovation took Wraith’s hands from her ears.

  “It’s tuned to our abilities, so only someone in our group can disarm it,” he said.

  Geek stepped up, grasped the doorknob, and pulled it open. It creaked so loud that Wraith thought it might have been rusted shut, but the skinny boy didn’t even seem to strain.

  “It sticks,” Geek said.

  “Come on,” Sprout said and took Wraith’s hand. “It’s safe now.”

  They stepped through the door, and Geek pulled it closed behind them.

  Stretching before them was a long hallway with dirty glass tiles in the ceiling that let in only sparse rays of dreary light.

  “This way,” Ovation said and began walking.

  Sprout kept hold of Wraith’s hand and led her right behind him. The walls were covered in graffiti and water stains.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Seattle Underground,” Geek said. “The parts deemed not quite safe.”

  “The city was built on marshland, so it kept flooding,” Ovation said without looking back. “Then there was a huge fire, and the city decided to rebuild the streets a ­couple stories higher. Some landlords didn’t wait, so their first floors eventually ended up underground, but ­people could still access them through here.” He pointed up at the ceiling. “Not much light got in, so it became a haven for criminals in hiding. The city condemned it about a hundred years ago, and ­people just kind of forgot about it.”

  “Just like us,” Con said.

  Ovation chuckled. “Amen, mate.”

  “I’m forgotten too,” Wraith said, a little more eager than she’d intended. “And I forget. At the least the things I don’t remember—­”

  Everyone except Sprout looked at her as if she was crazy. They were probably right. She really should learn to keep her mouth shut.

  Sprout squeezed her hand. “Maybe we can help you remember.”

  “Maybe,” Ovation said, “but one thing at time. Okay, midget?”
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  They followed the hallway to an old spiral staircase. At the top was a weathered wooden door, which opened onto the floor of a long defunct factory. The few intact windows were small and dirty. It was an immense space, stretching over a hundred feet, and easily thirty or forty feet high.

  Ovation pointed to a door halfway down the factory floor. “Normally, we’d use that one, but we didn’t know the dog.”

  “And he’s big,” Geek said.

  “Oi, man up, eh?” Con said.

  Ovation looked at Wraith. “I don’t know how much you know about things, but in Seattle, kids are going missing. Some have even turned up dead,” he said. “Some slingers, like you, but mostly fifties. Fifties are—­”

  “I know what they are,” Wraith said. “My friends are fifties. And I know about the snatchers. They took my friends.”

  “I’m sorry,” Geek said.

  Wraith shrugged. “I’m going to get Toto, and we’ll be out of your hair.” She reached out for the door.

  Ovation put his hand over hers and shook his head. “No one goes outside alone, not now.”

  Wraith’s hand tingled from the touch. “It’s okay, I’ll just—­”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said. “Geek and Con will watch our backs.” He looked at Sprout. “You hang back here. Be ready in case we need to make a quick escape.”

  Sprout saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Ovation opened the door slowly and peeked out. “Come on, it looks clear.”

  Wraith followed him out with Geek and Con almost on her heels.

  The old factory’s yard was asphalt slowly being overtaken by grass and weeds, all of which was surrounded by a rusty chain link fence with more than a few gaps. It all sat in the middle of a long abandoned industrial zone. In the distance, she could just see snowcapped mountains behind a huge skyline that wasn’t more than a dozen miles away.

  Wraith looked around. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Ovation said. “He’s been circling the place for a ­couple days. He’ll probably—­”

  Wraith heard a bark and spun on her heel.

  Toto sprinted toward her, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

  Wraith went to her knees, caught the dog—­though he nearly knocked her over—­and hugged him tight. “I missed you!” The smell of his fur was familiar and comforting. She felt a little like she’d come home.

  “Toto?” Con asked. “You named that Toto?”

  “I told you he was big,” Geek whispered.

  “You said a big dog, mate,” Con said. “Not a bleeding woolly mammoth.”

  At some point, the boys had all taken several steps away. They tried to look brave, but they kept casting glances at each other.

  “He won’t hurt you,” Wraith said. “Will you, boy?”

  In unison, they took a tentative step forward. Toto growled. They all took three steps back.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Wraith said. “They’re friends.”

  Sprout stepped from behind them. “Puppy!”

  “Wait!” the boys said at the same time.

  The little girl ran up and Toto opened his mouth into a doggie smile.

  “He’s not a bleeding puppy, you daft—­”

  Sprout scratched behind one of Toto’s ears, and his tail went into manic wagging.

  “He likes you,” Wraith said, then turned to the boys. “He won’t hurt you. He’s just protective of me.”

  “Aye,” Con said. “You heard her, mate.” He nudged Geek.

  “Uh, go ahead, boss,” Geek said to Ovation.

  “I’m fine here, thanks,” Ovation said.

  Toto eyed them warily.

  “You’re just a big softie, aren’t you, Toto?” Wraith said.

  “Actually, his name is Hototo,” Sprout said, still scratching his ear.

  “What?” Wraith asked.

  Sprout switched to the other ear. “He doesn’t mind you calling him Toto though. He kind of likes it now.”

  Everyone stared at Sprout.

  “And how do know you that?” Geek asked.

  “He told me,” Sprout said.

  “So you’re bleeding Dr. Doolittle now?” Con asked. “You never said you could talk with animals.”

  Sprout shrugged. “No one ever asked.”

  Toto eyed Geek.

  Geek swallowed. “He, uh, isn’t going to eat us, right?”

  “If Wraith likes you, he does too,” Sprout said.

  The boys all traded a glance and let out a collective breath.

  “Well, thanks, Toto,” Ovation said in an uncertain tone.

  “Mate, you’re talking to the dog,” Con said in a harsh whisper.

  Sprout looked from Toto to Wraith, then back again. Her eyes went wide and her smile stretched from ear to ear. “Oh! This means I get a sister and a puppy!”

  Wraith’s eyes went wide. “Wait, I—­”

  The little girl threw her arms around Wraith and hugged her tight.

  “What?” Geek and Ovation asked in stereo.

  “Oh, well, that’s just brilliant,” Con said.

  A chill made Wraith look up. In the distance, she could just make out what looked like a black utility van. It was the only vehicle around and it was headed her way. She stared at it for several seconds, watching it grow as it approached. All she could think about was Shadow hanging by chains.

  “Wraith, you okay?” Ovation asked.

  Wraith looked over at him then back. The van was gone.

  Everyone followed her gaze.

  “What is it?” Con asked.

  Wraith narrowed her eyes, but not even a dust trail hung in the air and the van didn’t reappear. After several moments, she shook her head. “Nothing, let’s just go back in.”

  Chapter Eight

  Dante knelt down and examined the first body. This mortal was the oldest, probably in his early thirties. From his clothes and tattoos, he was a small-­time ruffian. That meant the police would probably dismiss his death as the result of a fight over turf. His rib cage was crushed in so far it had destroyed his heart and punctured both lungs, but they’d write that off as the result of a serious beating. Dante didn’t know how they’d explain the evidence he was knocked back twenty feet and hit the wall so hard that the back of his skull shattered, but he knew they would. They always did. The most outlandish explanations always seemed preferable to the truth.

  As Dante stood, he sucked in a breath through his nose and regretted it. The bodies had been here for a ­couple days, maybe a week, and the smell was overwhelming. There was, however, just beneath the fetid odor, the lingering smell of magic. The fact it was still present meant two possibilities. It could be recent, which would mean someone was hanging out with corpses: possible, but not likely. The bodies showed no sign of abuse, magical or otherwise. ­People don’t keep company with the dead for no reason. So, it must have been the other possibility; that the magic used was powerful enough to leave remnants that lasted, potentially, for a week or more. Up until recently, he wouldn’t have been sure any mortal possessed that kind of power anymore, but things had changed, drastically. He thought back to the van, its front end looking as if it had been hit by a wrecking ball. The magic around it was powerful too, but he’d also sensed two sources there. The one outside felt like the magic here, powerful but somehow wild. Inside the van had been another matter. He shook his head. It felt almost ancient and carried a chill. It was no wonder that van hadn’t been towed or been picked clean.

  He sighed, thinking of the wasted months chasing ghost stories in the towns and cities across the country. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth; how easy it was for some of the court nobles to be so ambivalent about the missing kids. Yes, they were changelings but they were still kids. How could anyone leave those most in need of help and protection out in the
cold? Often literally. So few of the kids would talk to him, and when they did, he could almost taste their derision. It made him all the more grateful for Brigid and those like her.

  He looked around again. “I should’ve started in Seattle,” he said under his breath.

  “Hey, this is a crime scene,” said a gruff voice. “Let me see some ID, nice and slow.”

  Dante concentrated for just a moment on his glamour, then stood slowly and turned, hands in clear view. A uniformed cop in his twenties watched every move intently, hand resting on his holstered sidearm. Dante just stood there for a long three count before the cop blinked and relaxed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Detective, I didn’t recognize you. Wow, you homicide guys are quick.”

  “I was in the area when the call came in.” Dante stepped close and read the name tag. “Officer Willard. Were you the first on scene?”

  “Yes, sir. My partner and I got here and saw this.” The cop coughed and gagged. “We secured the area and called it in. Steve, my partner, went to canvas the area.”

  “Good,” Dante said. “Head outside and help your partner; I want to look around a bit before the lab rats get here.”

  “With pleasure.” Willard hurried down the stairs.

  Dante knelt down and looked over the second body. Something had twisted his head around nearly a full 360 degrees. His right hand was missing. The amputation had been just above the wrist, and the stump had been cauterized instantly. He also had some bite marks on his left wrist. At first glance, they looked like just a normal dog bite, albeit a big dog, but something about them was wrong.

  The phone in Dante’s pocket chirped. When he pulled it out and saw who was calling, he smiled despite the situation.

  “Thanks for calling back so quickly,” Dante said.

  “Well, you said it was important,” Edward said.

  “Are you home?”

  “No, I had an appointment with a patient. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. What do you need?”

  “I need you to do some research for me.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” Dante glanced over his shoulder and listened to make sure no real detectives had arrived and his conversation was still private. “Someone has been kidnapping changelings and—­”