by Clay Held
Penny’s eyes widened. “You know my name?”
“Parts of it,” Limnic said, smiling. “I left the dowsing rod with your father. Either he sent it with you, or you found means to bring it nonetheless. Given your desire to find this mysterious gift-giver, I suspect the latter.” He sat behind the table, his elbows digging into two great grooves in the surface. “Curious, though, to know that someone is giving out my former belongings in this manner.”
Simon sat on a large purple couch. A great plume of dust rose into the air. “I thought it would lead to him,” he said sourly. “It all made so much sense.”
“Usually it’s the things that make too much sense that you should trust the least.” Limnic stood and walked under the large opening, gazing upwards through the water. “It shines like diamonds, doesn’t it? Tell me, did this gift giver bequeath you anything else of mine? I had this old hat that I really do miss...”
“Listen up, you old skeleton,” Luke spat. “I ain’t down here to help you find your old hat, or your mittens, or your socks. I came down here for one thing--information. Power. Instead I find a rambling old fool and a plate of cookies. There ain’t no profit in my being down here.”
Limnic continued to gaze into the water. “Delta Order, yes?”
“What of it?” Luke’s eyes narrowed.
“So driven, so determined.” Limnic closed his eyes. “For all the wrong things.” He breathed deep, almost tasting the lake overhead. “Tell me, how is Madam Mamzelle these days? I fear the Delta has been troublesome for her of late.”
“I’m a free agent,” Luke said. “I don’t work for Mamzelle, this Boeman guy, the Freemancers, or anybody. I work for me.”
“Boeman?” The old man’s eyes snapped open. “What has he to do with this?”
“He’s who I’m looking for,” Simon said. “He gave me the book. He’s the one who took my dad, Sam--”
“Thatch...” Limnic swept across the floor to Simon. “He has Samuel?”
“You know him?” Simon asked. “How do--”
Limnic’s eyes went wide. “Wait!” he shouted, his eyes trained on the water. A dusty shadow had begun to form in the water. “Ah ha!”
Simon jumped from the couch. “What?”
“No time just yet,” he said, rushing to the wall of books behind the table. Angrily he grabbed a large book from the shelf and slammed it down. A great cloud of dust and wood shavings flew into the air. He flipped the pages furiously, stopping to scan one page. “Here,” he said, pointing to a line of writing. “Simon, read this aloud when I tell you to. Miss Nettle, over here, opposite him. I’m going to need your talents.”
Penny stood opposite from Simon, a bewildered look on her face. “What’s happening?”
Limnic didn’t answer. “You. Delta boy. Stand here.” He grabbed Luke and set him under the pool of water. “It is night, the water is calm.” He passed Luke a silver coin, then pointed at the growing cloud of murk in the water. “Watch that, closely. If you see anything change, let us know.”
“Can’t you do a little better than that?” Luke said.
“Watch the murkiness,” Limnic said, grabbing a ceramic jar with the head of an eagle from under the table. “Ready, Simon?”
Simon had started to sweat. “I think so.”
“Good, good. Miss Nettle, hands on the table.”
She shook her head. “What am I listening for?”
“Nothing, hopefully.” Limnic opened the eagle jar. “Ready. Simon, read the line.”
“It’s in English, won’t I--”
“The book is the conduit, not you. Quickly now, read!”
Simon began to read, slowly. “From the earth, and to the earth, all that rise and fall--”
Penny winced. “I hear humming,” she said. “Loud humming.”
“It cannot hurt you,” Limnic whispered. “It will get louder, but it cannot truly hurt you. Simon, continue. Quickly.”
Simon’s nose itched. “From the sea, and to the sea, over foam and squall--”
“Something’s getting angry out there,” Luke shouted, never taking his eyes off the water. “Something big.”
Simon’s head began to tingle as he read. “Of the fire, and to the bloom, shadow and the wall. Broken hearth, and open flame, hear the Moated call...”
Penny’s breathing increased.”I can’t hear it anymore,” she said. “It stopped.”
Limnic’s shoulders dropped. “No, it didn’t.” He upended the jar, and dirt came pouring out onto Simon’s head.
“Hey!” Simon yelled.
“Spoken spells won’t work now. Their song has moved beyond our ears.” Limnic scooped most of the dirt back into the jar and made for the fireplace. “It sings to them, bids their entrance into this world.”
Overhead the lake churned and frothed as a dark mass began to form in the wake. “Guys,” Luke said. “Something big is moving out there.”
“There isn’t much time!” Limnic came hastily around the table. “Simon, follow me.” He moved to the fireplace, the flames roaring to life as they approached. “Hold very still. Very, very still. In front of the fire.” Limnic closed his eyes and began to murmur. “Ventulus,” he whispered, throwing the dirt into the fire. It burned emerald green. “Ventulorum ventuli.” He clapped his great withered hands. “Ventulo!” He flashed his hands towards Simon.
A sudden gust of wind swept over Simon, blowing the last of the dirt from him and into the fireplace. The flames crackled and roared deep blue and purple.
“Back,” Limnic whispered. “Back from the fire.”
Simon stepped away, putting the book back on the table. “What was that?”
“Latin,” Penny said. Simon gave her an irritated look. “What?” she asked.
Limnic eyed Simon. “I believe you were the carrier of a curse, Simon. Boeman placed it on you, and I believe he hoped you would find me.”
“How could he plan that?” Simon said. “How could he curse me without my knowing?”
“By giving you a cursed object,” Luke said. “You can sucker people easy that way. I--” Luke saw everyone’s eyes on him. “--never mind,” he said quietly.
Simon immediately remembered the business card from the diner, and it hit him. All this time he had thought it was Boeman’s calling card, but it was just a game, a trick to put him on Limnic’s trail, just to unknowingly deliver a curse to him. He had wasted his time on a fool’s errand, and done completely what Boeman wanted. I have plans for you, Boeman had said, and he had fallen for it completely. He swallowed the urge to punch the table.
Limnic held Speaking with the Dead in his hands. He stared at it long and hard, not just reading the book but the boy who carried it. Finally he set the book on the table and smiled. “Be calm, Simon. Fellis has been trying to murder me for years. If he passed on an opportunity as ripe as this I might have begun to worry for him.”
“The lake...thing is gone,” Luke said. “What was that?”
“Another gift,” Limnic said. “A ley beast from beyond the Moat, cast to the depths of the sea eons ago in the days of the First Secrets and made to sleep until called. Boeman sought to unleash him on us, but for now it sleeps again.”
“Ley?” Simon did not understand the word.
“Hidden,” Penny said. “Was it coming for Simon?”
“It was coming for us,” Luke said, his eyes flickering with an unwholesome amount of greed. “What you got down here so valuable that Boeman would send Mr. Nasty to get it?”
“I think that is all you think about,” Simon said.
“Simon,” Limnic said, stepping so close his wild beard was almost in Simon’s eyes. “When was Samuel taken?”
Simon involuntarily stepped back. “Two nights ago.”
Limnic sighed. “Then it is as I have feared. Tonight is the third night. They will turn him.”
“What?” Simon said. “Turn him?”
“He won’t have any choice,” Limnic said. “Three days is how long it takes
to cast the enchantment that breaks a soul that carries debt. How long it takes to create a ghoul. A thrall.” He sighed. “At Halloween, no less.”
Simon shook his head. “What does Halloween have to do with any of it?”
“Time and space are interconnected,” Penny said. “Just as there are ley lines through space, there are points in time where magic runs stronger. Halloween is one of them.”
“A thrall?” Luke said, abandoning his spot under the water. “We’ve already seen them,in the Archives last night.”
“Why?” Simon said. “Why turn Sam?”
Limnic settled at his table. “It is not a question of why, Simon. Sam owes Boeman his soul. He has come to collect.” He stared at his hands. “I do not know why Sam chose his path, but it is not as I would have had it,” he said quietly.
“You have to help us,” Simon leaned over the table. “Please. We need to find him. Nathan was helping us, but he was taken.”
Limnic’s eyes brightened. “Tamerlane?” He smiled. “He is your mentor?”
“I--no,” Simon said. “I’m not an apprentice.”
Something strange played across Limnic’s face--not quite a smile, not quite a frown. “I see,” he said, quietly. “You say he has been taken as well?”
“By Mancer Churl,” Penny said. “They arrested him this afternoon. They’re saying that he was the one who took Sam.”
“Of course,” Limnic said softly. “Never put it past a man like Churl to use tragedy to their advantage, professional or otherwise.” He pulled another book from the wall. “Has anyone else been taken?” he asked.
“No,” Simon said. “We have someone talking to Sterling. A friend of Nathan’s. Kate Merrimoth.”
“I see,” Limnic smiled and slipped the book back onto the shelf. “I suspect there isn’t much we can do for Nathan tonight, but I have faith Kate will win that battle for us. She is very resourceful, especially against her uncle.”
“So you know her?” Simon said.
“Oh my, yes. She’s a very strong young woman.” Limnic’s smile was crooked and more than a little wild. “She has a strong heart, and I trust her completely. Now, we must turn our attention to finding Samuel.”
“I ain’t turning my attention to nothing,” Luke said suddenly, his voice thin. “I don’t know this Sam guy, and I hardly know any of you.” He stared at Simon. “You’ve gotten me in plenty of trouble already, and last I checked ain’t none of this has been worth my time. I ain’t come all this way for traitors in caves.”
Limnic looked at Luke. “Just what did you come here for, young man?”
Simon turned on Luke before he could answer. “You said Boeman owes you payment, didn’t you? Is that why you came with us?”
Luke bristled. “So?”
“So what’d you do?”
Luke smiled. “That’s confidential.”
Simon grabbed Luke by the shirt. “Answer me!”
“Simon...” Penny said. “He can’t.”
“Why?”
“It was in my deal,” Luke said. “Can’t tell you, or I’m his.” Luke pulled away “Hope you understand.”
“Wait!” Simon grabbed him by the arm.
Luke shrugged him off. “Ain’t no doing!” He continued towards the tunnel.
“I’ll pay you,” Simon blurted out. Limnic looked at him, his eyes shining like twin moons.
Luke slowed a moment, looking over his shoulder hesitantly. The air was thick with calculations. “Yeah?” he said finally. “What you got that I want?”
“This,” Simon said, grabbing Speaking with the Dead from the table and shaking it “Don’t tell me there’s something in here you don’t want.”
Luke reached out and took the book. He ran his hands slowly over the black leather, and a small smile broke across his face. “One night,” he said. “I agree to help you for one night, in exchange for this book. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Simon said, taking Luke’s hand.
“Good,” Luke said, tucking the book in his sweater pouch. “Be seeing you.”
“Wait!” Simon said. “You agreed--”
“Only said I’d help one night. Didn’t say which one. Thanks for the book.”
“Get back here!” Penny shouted. “You know that’s not--”
“Don’t matter what the spirit is,” Luke said, reaching the mouth of the tunnel. “Only matters what’s the letter of it, and tonight the letter says I have a new book, and I owe you.”
Simon stood there dumbstruck. “Let him go,” he said bitterly. “It’s my own stupid fault for thinking he would want to help,” he mumbled.
“You’re a real quick study,” Luke said, walking up the corridor. He glanced over his shoulder at Penny. “Maybe if you live through all your trouble you might make a good bookworm like Strawberry here.”
Now it was Penny’s turn to fume. “Fine,” she said. “Just go. We don’t need you.”
“Just how I like it.” Luke stepped into the corridor. “You have anything else you want to get rid of, you find me,” he shouted, his footsteps fading up the tunnel. “See you around.” Maggey zipped from Limnic’s shoulder and up the tunnel, leaving a reddish trail behind her.
“Learn from this what you will,” Limnic said when Luke had gone. “For now we must focus on the matter at hand.”
“It’s no use,” Simon said. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Yet you’ve already begun!” Limnic returned to the fire. “The journey has started, and now you must finish it!” He stoked the flames. “Find everything you need along the way, starting with the Masquerade.”
“The Masquerade?”
Limnic nodded. “There is too much power all in one place tomorrow for Darrow to ignore, now that he has awakened. Whatever he is planning, it will start there.” He stared into the flames. “Boeman may not be acting alone. Other acolytes of Darrow will be in the gathering. Find them, and you find Sam.”
“One of the Majesties?” Penny asked.
“There’s no way to be certain,” Limnic said. “Darrow has lived a long time.” He sighed. “Longer than any man should. This has given him connections to every Order, every Majesty of the last two hundred years. There’s no telling from where the strike may come.”
Simon lifted his head. “Will you come with us?”
Limnic’s face dropped. “I’m afraid I can do no such thing, Simon.” His eyes stayed on the fire. “I am unable to leave, trapped here, just as you are trapped in your journey. I would gladly offer all my help, yet I am bounded by these walls.”
“What?” Simon demanded, suddenly angry. “Why?”
“It is a long and tired story,” Limnic said wearily. “I will help as best I can, but here, I’m afraid, I must stay. There can be no other way.”
A cold, dizzy, angry feeling churned up inside Simon’s heart. “Fine,” he said quietly, barely containing his disgust. “We’ll be going.”
“Simon!” Penny said. “We came all this way--”
“Now we’re leaving,” Simon snapped. “There’s nothing we can do from down here. Any of us,” he added. He pointed to the silvery pool of water overhead. “The fight is up there. The only real family I’ve ever known is in danger. I can’t hide down here and do nothing while Sam is twisted into something I don’t recognize.”
Limnic leaned over the fire. “Simon, a moment.” His voice was a calm break in the storm.
“No.” Simon approached the corridor. “I don’t--”
Limnic thrust his hand into the flames, which sizzled and popped as he groped through the embers.
Penny gasped. “What are you doing?”
Limnic grunted. “Here,” he said, withdrawing his unburned arm from the fire. A tiny orange ember burned in his hand, which he dropped into Simon’s palm. “This is a devil’s ember. It will always give you light, but never heat.” The ember flickered yellowish orange in Simon’s hand. Limnic closed Simon’s fingers around it. “It saves its fire for the wicked among us.
May it prove useful to you.”
Simon studied the ember, turning it over slowly in his hand. It burned brightly in his palm, but he felt no pain. “Is it safe?”
“Only the wicked will burn,” Limnic assured him. “No worse than anything else you may come across. You could drop it in a pumpkin if you like.”
Simon quietly stuck the ember in his pocket. “Thanks,” he said, suddenly uncertain of what to say. “Penny, are you ready to go?”
“I think so.”
Limnic turned his attention to the dying flames in the fireplace. “I think I may have disturbed things a little too much,” he said, working the poker into the fire. “It’ll take much effort to keep the fire going, but that’s okay. Not all is lost.”
* * *
Simon coughed and sputtered as he stumbled ashore, the lake water somehow burning despite being cold. Penny sat on the ground, her arms wrapped around her legs, rubbing herself for warmth. Simon sat down next to her, soaked and tired. Overhead, the moon hung low in the sky. There was no sign of Luke.
“At least it was quicker coming up than going down,” she said, trying to be reassuring.
“Not so sure about that.” Simon slowly peeled off his socks and wrung them out. The ember glowed dimly in his pocket. He stared at the lake.
“We need to get back,” Penny said. “They’re going to be wondering where we are, I mean. Even with all the visitors here for the Masquerade, it’s still not a good time to disappear for too long. There’s many old feelings stirred up by a gathering like this.”
“Yeah, the Masquerade...” Simon put his socks back on, thinking about everything Limnic had said. “Who all is going to be there?”
“A Majesty from each of the seven orders,” Penny said. Their attendants, servants too. Then distinguished guests and whoever else could get an invitation.”
Simon stood. “Limnic seems to think Boeman is working with one of the Majesties. Could that be true?”
“It’s quite a reach,” Penny said. “There’s no way to be sure. There was concern among the council that Limnic was losing his mind--it happens with almost all who walk in Thule, eventually. I’m worried he’s grabbing at imaginary straws.”
“I don’t think so,” Simon said. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? There’s old rivalries there, and Boeman preys on anger.”
