The Cardkeeper Chronicles: Books 1-5 (Complete Collection)

by A. C. Nicholls

  “Chicago has been infested with them recently. Mean ones, too.”

  “I don’t read the papers,” she said, “but I do have access to the Internet. I’ve read the stories. But my question is, what does this have to do with me?”

  “I’ve just come from the library, where I was attacked by one of them. On its dying breath, it mumbled your name. So, you understand I had to come here and check it out.”

  As Joan stared lifelessly at the table while twirling the knife in her hand, I tried not to look at the human hand beside her. Only it beckoned my eyes like some fleshy road kill that I couldn’t drive past without gawking.

  “Yes,” she finally said. A blessed distraction. “I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

  You think?

  “I haven’t ‘just read about it’. My daughters and I are, in fact, dealing with the problem. Many have sought us out and asked for our help in getting rid of the spirits.”

  My mouth hung open and my heart began to race. A niggling feeling screamed liar. Of course, it was possible that the witches’ reputation influenced my paranoia, but then, why had she changed her story after I told her about the spirit?

  I couldn’t tell.

  “You have something planned?” I asked.

  “Well, not exactly.” Joan glanced behind her, checking on her children. When she turned back, her voice dropped to a whisper. “I haven’t confessed this yet, as I don’t want my daughters to think less of me, but I don’t even know where to start. Perhaps…”

  “What?”

  Her dark eyes met mine. “Perhaps you could help.”

  Lady, I’m already on it.

  “Yes,” Joan continued, sitting back and beginning to smile. Up close, I noticed her veneers. There was no way those perfect whites were her own. Not at her age. “You are obviously progressing faster than we are, so why not take it upon yourself to send these spirits?”

  “You want me to send them? What does that even mean?”

  Joan pushed back out of her chair, chewing on her nail and looking around the room. “Ah,” she said, and glided to the farthest corner, where a bookshelf sat in the dark. She ran a finger along the rows, found what she was looking for and returned it to the table.

  “What’s that?”

  “Incantations.” She didn’t look up, only blew a puff of dust off the cover and spread it open, continuing to search through each tatty, yellowed page. When she found what she’d been looking for, she turned the book around and pushed it toward me.

  Silent, I studied the page. There were depictions of what looked to be charcoal drawings of spirits bullying villagers into a corner. They loomed over them, stretched, tortured expressions on their faces. There was text, too, written in red ink:

  vanquis ven-laycis

  “What does this mean?” I asked.

  “It’s a spell for mortals to use. It was designed to send a spirit to the afterlife, and can be read by anybody. It doesn’t take any practice – you only need to be entwined with its spiritual body while you say it.”

  “And by ‘entwined’ you mean…”

  “Touch it, be near it. It’s different in all cases but often just requires you to have had physical contact with the spirit.”

  It seemed too good to be true. Too easy. “So all I have to do is touch the spirit and repeat these words? Then the spirit will vanish?”

  Joan nodded. “Before you know it, this city will be cleansed of its trouble.”

  I ran my fingers along the rough page of the book, studying the detailed illustrations. “If it’s that easy, why don’t you do it?”

  “I simply don’t know where to look.”

  “And I do?”

  “You found one in the library, did you not?”

  She had a good point. Perhaps I had jumped the gun by assuming the witches were a part of this. Now that Joan Flowers had explained her involvement with the spirits, I began to see why one of them had mentioned her name.

  I looked over Joan’s shoulder, watching the children play with the cat again. They giggled among themselves, totally oblivious to the dangers they were fated to endure when they grew up. I almost felt sorry for them, but there was nothing I could do.

  “All right,” I said, rising from the table. “I think I’ve got this covered; find the spirits, repeat the phrase, and off they go.”

  Joan nodded and stood too. She was a little taller than me, and it only contributed to her intimidating appearance, as if her black hair and sharp features weren’t enough. “Go now, Miss Poe, and be rid of these nuisances once and for all.”

  After the battle I’d had to fight, I didn’t need to be told twice.

  I wanted them gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A darkened sky the color of blue-black glass met my gaze upon leaving the witches’ house. I stopped to look up at the moon, a beautiful white orb suspended aloft, illuminating everything it touched. It made me think of magic. It made me think of curses. It made me think of him.

  “Don’t,” Link said from my shoulder.

  “I wasn’t–”

  “Just don’t.”

  I took his advice and said no more, making my way back toward the VHS store. I breezed through, donned a silky cloak, and passed through the mountains toward the Vault. A brighter sky greeted me on this side of the portal, and it made me wonder again where exactly in the world this place was. Nobody would tell me.

  It was safer that way.

  When I reached the card room, the first thing I did was switch up my magicard. Fire wasn’t working for me anymore. Not only was it pretty ineffective against the spirits, but the soul from inside was beginning to transfer over to me. I didn’t like it. It felt too personal.

  “Want me to help you decide?” Link asked.

  I touched a glyph, and watched a hole open in the wall. Exhaling slowly, I placed the magicard inside and watched the wall consume it, locking it away safely for when it was next needed. “I already know what I’m taking.”

  “Oh?”

  Without giving him an answer, I moved along the wall and ran my fingers softly over a purple glowing light on the bricks – a flower of some sort. I knew nothing about floristry, but it looked similar to a poppy. When I touched it, the room shivered and the bricks folded back on themselves, receding. A moment later, a new magicard appeared, floating in the black space before me.

  “Telepathy?” Link said.

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “I am.” He slid down my robe, landing in my pocket and making it sag. “If fire didn’t do much good against a ghost, what the bloody hell is telepathy going to do?”

  I smiled, took the card and absorbed the soul. I felt my skin tingle and an acrid taste fill my mouth, as the card’s soul merged with mine. I swallowed, feeling dizzy, and then shook it off. “I have the spell from Joan Flowers. That’s the only weapon I’ll need. The way I see it, telepathy will help me read the spirits’ thoughts.”

  “And thus, helping you pinpoint their position?”

  “Exactly.”

  Link chuckled. “You’re smarter than you look, Keira Poe.”

  I ignored that comment and made my way to the Grand Hall. Dalton stood here, his hands fed into the sleeves of his robe to become one. His back was to the far pillar, waiting. As if he’d been expecting me.

  “Dalton,” I said as I approached.

  “Lady Keira. How fares the spirit hunt?”

  “How did you…”

  Dalton smiled. “There isn’t much that Loctis doesn’t tell me, especially when it concerns my own Cardkeeper. Come, walk with me, and let us discuss the facts.”

  We walked for almost an hour as I filled him in on my recent activities. I shared with him that I was afraid to face more spirits, and that I had visited the witches. As helpful as they had been – Joan had, anyway – I couldn’t quite chase off the nagging feeling that I’d been lied to. I asked Dalton what he thought, and what he gave me provided little help.


  “Sometimes, you must simply follow your instincts,” he said.

  I stopped walking, gazing through the glassless window in the castle wall. The view overlooked a range of mountains, where the sun dipped below the horizon and pasted stunning layers of orange across the land. I had never seen majesty quite like it.

  “Something troubles you?” he asked.

  “I just… You say that I should follow my instincts, but it’s not that simple. The spirits attacked me, and the witch seems inconsistent at best. What if my instincts tell me not to trust either of them? What if they’re both up to no good?”

  Dalton sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Lady Keira, does your heart tell you to give this witch a chance?”

  I thought about that. As much as I wouldn’t turn my back on Joan Flowers, I wouldn’t exactly throw her into the fire either. “I guess so.”

  “Then do just that. Life, as I’m sure you know, is merely a sequence of choices. It is strictly impossible to make the next one while the current choice remains unconcluded. If you seek my opinion, I suggest that you continue as you were. The answers will come.”

  I moved away from the window, and we continued our walk around the castle. After all this time, it still awed me that this entire building could appear as only a tower from the outside. If humans could see it – which I was certain they couldn’t, without the use of a portal – it would surely be studied as an architectural wonder.

  We finally arrived back in the Grand Hall, where a fire continued to blaze and a soft, choir-like melody sung out from the far reaches of the darkness. Mages weren’t allowed that far back into the hall, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t exactly inviting.

  As I stopped by the great fire, Link leapt from my pocket, spread his wings, and flew around the room like a bloated dragonfly. He stopped above the flames, warming his hands on them. “What’s the plan, then?”

  I shot a glance at Dalton. “I guess we’re going to trust the witch.”

  “We are?” Link said.

  “Yep.”

  “Then… where do we begin?”

  “Actually, I thought we could use a little help,” I said, eagerly awaiting his reaction. “There’s only one person who knows Chicago better than I do, and it just so happens that he’s not human. This means his ear is kept to the ground with all the politics of the underworld. That could be useful, right?”

  “Right.” Link swooped down and hovered by my side. “And who is this mystery guest?”

  All I had to do was stare at him long enough, and he would figure it out by himself. When he did, his eyes widened before he held his face in his hands. “Oh, Jesus. Not him.”

  Dalton, as awkward as I had ever seen him, flicked up his hood and made his way out of the room. “This is none of my business,” he said, and I could sense that he feared bearing witness to Link’s frustration.

  “It’s not that bad,” I told Link, grinning.

  “He’s… He’s…”

  “Dependable,” I said.

  “He’s a dog!”

  I blurted out laughter, embarrassed at the croaky sound I made. “We need to see him, Link, whether you like it or not. Besides, it’s been long enough, don’t you think?”

  Link remained silent, sulking.

  “Yeah,” I said to myself, heading for the exit. “It’s about time.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The next morning, I stood out in the open on the Wabash Avenue Bridge, the wind chopping at my hair and the freezing air nipping my cheeks. I started to envy Link, who had tactfully chosen to stay at home. I pictured him in my apartment, laid out in his empty fruit bowl in the warm sun, gazing out of the window.

  Cozy little bastard.

  Cars sped past, ripping through puddles and spraying them aside. The wind took it from there, carrying droplets of icy water onto my bare cheeks. I began to curse and hate the outdoors, and had every reason to turn around and head home. I couldn’t bring myself to do it – morally speaking, it just wouldn’t be right.

  As if the weather wasn’t bad enough, the wait itself was torture. How long had it been since I’d seen Jason? Two months? Three? Whatever the timeline, it felt like a lifetime, and I felt butterflies in my stomach as I waited for him to appear.

  When he finally did, I went numb.

  “Well, if it isn’t Keira Poe,” he said from behind me.

  I spun on my heel and turned toward the voice – a kind voice, which suited his features. Thick, neatly combed black hair hung over his entrancing eyes. The smile he gave – the smile I had fallen for – beamed at me once again. He was taller than I remembered, too. An imposing height and the coat he wore flapped around behind him in the brisk wind. I remembered when I had given it to him, and how well it suited him.

  “Jason,” I said, trying not to grin like a schoolgirl. “Did you bring it?”

  He snickered. “Straight down to business, then?”

  “This isn’t a social call.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Business.” I reached my hand out for the file under his arm. “Please.”

  Jason sighed, looked all around him as if he had been followed, and then handed it over. Before I could even open them, he rushed forward and clamped a hand back around it. “You going to tell me why you wanted this?”

  I gave only a slight upturn of my lips. “In time.”

  “No, now. Or I walk, and I take the papers with me.”

  As much as I hadn’t really wanted him to get involved, I brought Jason up to speed on my recent activities. I told him of the fight I had been wrapped up in, and the incantation provided by The New Witches of Belvoir. Thankfully, he stood quietly as he heard my explanation, which made it a whole load easier for me to recollect things as they’d happened. By the time I was done, my hands were frozen solid and Jason’s expression had mellowed into something more welcoming.

  “So,” he said, shivering as a steady wind picked up and rushed across the river, “your master plan is to find these spirits and attack them head-on?”

  “That’s right,” I said, fingering through the file. I struggled to keep the papers pinned down, the wind doing everything it could to mess with me. When I finally seized control of it, I read carefully. Well… I tried to.

  “Rushing in, as always.”

  “Excuse me?” I looked up at Jason.

  “I’m just saying, every time there’s danger you seem to just run headlong into it. Have you considered taking a more tactical approach?”

  I closed the file, straightened up. “Like what?”

  Jason froze, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “Well… I don’t know. I mean…”

  “Exactly.” I sighed, shivering in the soft rain that began to fall. “Look, I appreciate you bringing this information, but could you spare me the lecture? I’m still recovering from yesterday’s horrible ordeal, and really don’t want to have two bad days in a row.”

  Holding up his hands, he surrendered. “Fine. Just… turn to page seven.”

  I complied, continuing my battle with the breeze. I studied the page, finding a list of locations, dates and names. This section carried on through six sheets of paper, each one stuffed with information. “What is this?”

  “It’s every report of a ghost sighting that the police have on file.”

  “People actually report this stuff?”

  “Yep. It’s not taken seriously, but they have to record the statements.”

  “Should I ask how you got ahold of this information?”

  Jason laughed. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “Fair enough.” I kept looking at the file, going over and over the same few pages until something leapt out at me. “Char’s Mall is mentioned a few times here. I thought that place shut down years ago?”

  “It did. But you know how kids are; looking for ghosts in their spare time.”

  “Must have been a big surprise when they found one.”

  “One?”

  I loo
ked up at him, then lowered my eyes to the file. “However many.”

  An uncomfortable silence ensued. As I read through the paperwork, I could feel Jason checking me out. It was like he was assessing how much I had changed since we’d last spoken – back when we’d teamed up to take down a psychotic mage. I hadn’t changed, however. Not on the outside at least. Immortals rarely did.

  “Right,” I said, clapping the file closed and handing it back.

  “Got everything you need?”

  “Yes, thank you for bringing it to me.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” Jason threw the pages over the bridge, spilling them into a whirlwind of white sheets, floating around in a cyclone before they disappeared from sight.

  “So,” I said, casting my eyes downward at the litter swirling around my ankles, “how’ve you been?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Good.”

  We stood in silence, gazing into each other’s eyes. I began to feel those old feelings again, but I knew I couldn’t pursue them. Jason was a werewolf, after all, and it was forbidden for his kind to date mine. His alpha had once given him the opportunity to leave his pack to be with me, and although he had chosen to make that sacrifice, I had let him go. Sadly, life was filled with regrets and Jason would forever be at the top of my list.

  Embroiled in the awkward silence came my first taste of telepathy. It happened by accident, the same way that people sometimes said things they didn’t mean to say. Jason thought something, and my new ability made me somehow just reach out and take it from his mind.

  Go with her, it said.

  Jason’s expression shifted into a sort of confusion, like a fly had landed on his neck. Did he know that I had just read his mind? He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get a word out, I beat him to the punch.

  “I’m going to check out this mall. Come with?”

  His expression softened. “Is that a good idea?”

  Play it cool all you like, pal, but I know you want to be here. I supposed it was better to have a werewolf at my side, even if I was scared that I would become attached again. Besides, I wasn’t the type to mess guys around. “Sure. I could use the help on this job.”