Seaton paused mid-step as if a petrifying spell had hit him. “Did you hear that?”
“Sherard,” Edwards drawled in a warning tone. “Don’t start that.”
“No, seriously, did you hear that?” he asked, and for once didn’t seem as if he were on a grand lark of an adventure. “It sounded like footsteps.”
Of course he heard footsteps.
Edwards stabbed a finger in his direction. “If I get jumped by a ghost, I’m blaming you.”
Seaton tried to look abashed, but the attempt failed miserably. He clearly hoped a ghost would appear.
Perhaps I should have done this part of the investigation alone. I’d thought Seaton would be a steadying presence here, but clearly the persona he wore in public hid his true one.
We kept walking. The tombstones progressively aged so that between one stride and the next we entered a part of the graveyard that housed the two-hundred-year-old graves. The air became, quite impossibly, even colder, so that a shiver danced along my skin. Shadows lengthened from the trees, swallowing up the light, and I swear the atmosphere made it seem like a specter would pop out of the woodwork at any moment.
With steadfast refusal to get sucked into Seaton’s pace, I focused solely on the lens in my hand. “There’s more energy to be had here. It’s fresher, as well. Edwards, kindly do not come in any further.”
“Believe me, I’m not moving an inch.” She peered at the ground, worrying at her bottom lip. “The glasses are lighting up like an eerie Fourth of July. Do I even want to know how many ghosts are here?”
“No,” I answered honestly, because quite frankly, I didn’t care to know either. “Seaton, help me look. Are any of the graves disturbed? Do you see any part of the soil that looks overturned?”
Seaton did a slow turn in place, eyes roving over the grass. “Not immediately. You go left, I’ll go right.”
Having no objections, I did so.
“Make sure to look where you’re going!” Edwards called after him.
I could hear Seaton mutter to himself as he moved, “Walk into one wall, just one, and they never let you forget it.”
Snorting in amusement, I kept walking. I’d have to get the story for that out of Edwards later. It promised to be a good one.
The grass looked entirely intact, with no hint of disturbance. I found that curious, as truly, this was the most famous place for haunts within the city. Surely the thieves would have chosen to harvest energy here? Then again, perhaps not. Edwards’ list included some rather unsavory locations as well. They might have chosen to hit something a little closer to home, or at least a less prominent location that wouldn’t remark upon any clandestine activity.
Perhaps this location wasn’t the best choice to start with. Frowning, I turned to hail Seaton, but couldn’t see him through the scattering of trees. Where did he get off to?
“SHERARD,” Edwards screamed, “RUN!”
Panic jolted through my system and I broke into a run myself, nearly tripping over the lower lying tombstones as I did so. I kept a sharp eye to my left, catching nothing but glimpses as Seaton sprinted towards Edwards. Too many trees were in the way, and in this poor lighting, I didn’t dare try any spells.
On second thought, would spells even work on ghosts? Beings that radiated spectral energy? Growling, I spat out a curse and tried to run faster.
Why he ran toward her, I didn’t know, nor could I explain why I myself ran toward her. To protect her? I had no answer and focused on breathing, as I became dangerously short of breath in short order.
Edwards drew something from her pocket, poised like a fighter getting ready to dive into the fray. My heart sank on seeing this as I absolutely did not want her to engage a ghost. She’d drop like a marionette with its strings cut.
“Duck!” she ordered.
To my surprise, Seaton instantly obeyed, going prostrate on the ground without a second of hesitation. Edwards threw the thing in her hand directly at the ghost chasing Seaton, hitting it dead in the center.
The specter screeched in an unholy and unnatural wail of sound, although its mouth didn’t move. I’d never seen one with my own eyes before, but it certainly looked like some of the textbook illustrations I’d encountered. It did not touch the ground, or have any sort of presence to it, just an ethereal glow emanating from somewhere within its core. It had a general humanoid structure but no distinct features, although it maintained enough of its former life to stay in the shape of a man. The billowing white overcoat it wore flared, becoming even more gossamer, and it frayed along the edges. I had no idea what she’d just done, but it was effective, at least in stopping the pursuit.
Edwards dug back into her pocket, bringing out another handful, and this time I was close enough to see that whatever she threw was very fine particles. It made a slight scattering sound when some of it hit the stones around us. The ghost took the brunt of the second shot as well, and with another ear-splitting wail, disappeared in a wisp of smoke into the inky darkness of the night.
With cautious glances over his shoulder, Seaton whispered, “Safe?”
“For now, at least.” Edwards blew out a breath. “I have a sudden nostalgia for Afghanistan, when all I had to worry about were scorpions, the occasional lion, and being shot at. Things were simpler then.”
I labeled her statement as ‘otherworldly, let it pass’ and stumbled to a halt at her side, gasping in breath. That short sprint made my legs flare from the unaccustomed activity. “Everyone’s all right? What did you throw, Edwards?”
“Salt.” When she got twin looks of disbelief, she defended herself, “Every culture I know of maintains that salt will dispel spirits, sometimes even demons. What? It worked, didn’t it?”
I couldn’t fault her there. I offered Seaton a hand, which he took, and helped lever him back onto his feet. “Seaton, before the apparition made its appearance, did you see any signs of disturbance?”
“Not a trace,” Seaton denied.
“It occurs to me that we are perhaps in too nice of an area for our thieves to frequent. Perhaps we should try another location.”
Edwards nodded in support of this. “I agree.”
Straightening his coat, Seaton attempted to look dignified. “I trust that the events of tonight will not be bandied about later.”
With a wicked smile on her face, Edwards slapped him companionably on the arm. “There’s no honor among friends, Sherard, just humiliating secrets and blackmail. Now, come on.”
Trudging along in her wake, Seaton complained plaintively, “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”
I charitably refrained from confirming this. Aloud.
“Of course it’s the last graveyard that we visit.” Edwards looked on from a distance, arms akimbo, glaring at the disturbed grave as if it had personally offended her in some manner.
Seaton balanced on his haunches, peering at the overturned soil as if it held the mysteries of the universe. “You normally quote someone when you say things like that. Murphy?”
“Murphy’s Laws, yes, and I do not want Murphy on this planet too, thank you very much. It’s bad enough he’s on Earth.” Huffing, she stretched her neck out to get a better view. “How long ago was this?”
“Perhaps a day,” I answered with no more than a glance her direction. I had a recording box going, detailing what we saw, albeit from a distance, as it too would cease to function if too close to the spectral energy. Because we’d been trooping around all over the city for the past three hours, I hadn’t brought more than the bare basics with me, which I lamented over now. Aside from taking a sample of the energy, and a recording of the area, there was precious little that I could do. “I can say this. This looks like their regular source.”
“Indeed, yes,” Seaton agreed, using the lens to magnify things for Edwards so she could see what we meant even from ten feet away. “See this spot here? And here? The more muted tone indicates it was harvested from perhaps two weeks ago. This one, more like a w
eek.”
“So it directly lines up with our timeline of thefts.” Edwards caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before asking, “You can’t get more precise than that?”
“Unfortunately not.” I sat back, shutting the recording box down. It had done all it could. “There’s no exact way to measure this, as it’s not a field anyone’s spent time on. But I can say this, I do not believe the spectral energy can be housed for more than a day before it starts to decay. They have a very narrow window to bring forth its optimum use.”
“So either tonight or tomorrow, but not any further out.” Rocking back and forth on her heels, she ruminated on this idea for a moment before offering, “So what can they feasibly use as the third thing to create a Sink with?”
“Anything unlike the other two with sufficient power.” Seaton finally stood and wandered over to stand at her side, both of them idly watching me as I packed up the rest of my equipment. “They’ve collected a magical artifact and a plant, correct? Then they’ll need something unlike those two things. Something earth, air, water, a contrasting element.”
“I think not air,” I demurred, standing to join them. “Air would be hard to marry with the other two, hard to contain, and even more difficult to obtain in the first place.”
Seaton’s open palm to me accepted the point. “Likely earth or water. I’m even more inclined to think earth. There’s several different water-based items of considerable magic power—Sacred Spring, Connia’s Well, Wishing Wells, things like that—but they’re hard to reach from here. It would take a trip on someone’s part and a remarkable bit of thievery to get their hands on it. Those places are well guarded.”
“So really, you think earth more than anything.” Edwards cocked her head, manner questioning. “Like what?”
“There’s any number of stones that are semi-easy to procure.” I settled the last of the equipment on my bag, adjusting the straps for more comfort. “Adder stones, for instance, are available from several merchants in the area. People use them to protect against eye diseases, or cure whooping cough.”
“Seer stones or Urim and Thummim,” Seaton added, “Although those are usually housed by the universities. Charmstones, although most of the ones that you find on the market are fake.”
“I think none of those are powerful enough.” I frowned at this conjecture, mind churning as I thought over the possibilities. “If we’re limiting ourselves to things that can be acquired, something that the thieves can take at face value to be genuine, then I can only think of seer stones, mermaid tears, and thunderstones.”
“Hooo,” Seaton exclaimed in a tone of approval, “I’d forgotten about thunderstones.”
Edwards gave an impatient sigh. “Can I catch a subtitle, here?”
Subtitle? I’d ask later, I knew what she meant from tone alone. “Any stone that is shaped like an arrowhead found in a farmer’s field is a thunderstone. They’re believed to be the remains of lightning strikes, remnant of a thunderbolt that retains some of its power. They’re not impossible to find on the market, and it’s obvious if one is genuine. Your hair sticks straight out when you touch one.”
“Static charge, eh?” Edwards nodded, as if agreeing with her own opinion. “Alright, so we’ve got some possible leads on what they’ll steal next, but they can get them anywhere in the city.”
“It’s not helpful,” I agreed, pulling a face. “I’ve had thoughts along these lines, but it’s all conjecture at this point.”
“Well, either way, we’ve done all we can tonight.” Seaton clapped his hands together and gestured toward the front gate. What remained of the front gate. The whole graveyard looked more than a little dilapidated. “Shall we go?”
“Sure.” Edwards led the way out, the line of her body suggesting fatigue in the way she moved. Then again, it neared midnight, we were all tired.
Seaton dropped back a step to keep pace with me, and in a language normally reserved for crafting spellwork, said in a low tone, “In an emergency, there’s a charged phyllite around her neck.”
My eyes cut sharply to him. A charged phyllite? Those outside magicians’ circles referred to them as ‘summoning beacons’ as by breaking one, it instantly summoned the magician connected to it. Such things were only put in place for extreme emergencies. Usually they spanned a foot or more. Seaton had condensed one to something small enough to wear on a necklace?
More than a little relieved he had thought up a method to contact him quickly, I gave him a nod and murmured, “Understood.”
A smile, a nod in return, then he skipped ahead to link his arm with Edwards, chattering on in an uncaring manner.
I watched them walk together and wondered, just what was their relationship? This man was completely devoted to her, and yet I sensed nothing intimate about their interactions. They acted like siblings, or close friends, but not lovers.
Granted, there had to be at least a fifteen-year gap or so, as Seaton was a dozen years my senior. I knew I was older than Edwards by at least five years, although not sure precisely how much of a difference lay between us. I could hardly go up and ask a woman her age without being skewered. Did it even matter?
I realized the peregrinations for what they were: a discomforting awareness that Edwards felt more comfortable with Seaton than me. Irritated with myself, I stomped after them, resolved to not think about it.
It’s not that I was jealous, really. Well, alright, I was, as I want to be just as comfortable with Edwards as she is with Seaton. But that kind of friendship takes more than a few weeks to develop. I needed to give this time.
Stop thinking about it, Davenforth.
Although, Seaton had barely known her a year, so that put a rather sizeable hole in the theory, didn’t it?
STOP, Davenforth. Irritated with myself, I firmly put my mind onto a different train of thought before it spiraled even further along this ridiculous tangent. What would be the easiest to acquire? Kingston, as a seaport town, had more than its fair share of sea myths and washed up artifacts. I’d seen thunderstones in the market, but vendors didn’t guarantee a steady supply of them. How could they, when they were only randomly discovered?
Mermaid tears, on the other hand, could be acquired from any number of stores along High Tide Street. I could think of three off hand.
We came to a crossroads and Seaton split from us, catching a night cab and waving goodnight. Unfortunately, we lived such a short distance away, no cab would be willing to take us, as the fee would be minimal at best.
“You were thinking hard back there,” Edwards observed, shifting so that I could walk beside her on the sidewalk. This late at night, our only possible obstacles were the streetlamps, making it easy to keep pace with her.
“Thinking about mermaid stones.” Succinctly, I summed up my thought process: “Of all the possibilities, I think mermaid tears most likely, as we tend to collect them being this close to the coast. I can think of three stores that have them. It might behoove us to make some inquiries.”
Her interest piqued sharply, so that she kept her torso half-twisted to face me as we walked. “Where are these stores?”
“Only a street over, why?”
“Do you mind if we swing past them? Just for my peace of mind. You said yourself that the thieves will likely strike again tonight or tomorrow and it’s late enough at night now that it becomes prime time for a little B&E.”
“B&E?”
“Breaking and entering.”
“Ah.” I thought about this but didn’t see what the harm could be, except extending our trip home on protesting feet. “Very well, if you wish. You see that red sign there on the corner? If we cut through there, we’ll come within line of sight of two of the stores.”
“Let’s do that.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “I know the odds of us just stumbling across them in the act of a burglary are close to zero, but I’d sleep better knowing I’d at least checked.”
Sometimes impulses were illogical that
way. The fact that my hypothesis had little basis didn’t matter, or that we weren’t patrolmen, or anything else. So even though we were on the edge of the less respectable area of town, and the lighting out here wasn’t the best, I didn’t argue.
Kingston, being one of the oldest cities on the continent, had more architectural history than any other place. Parts of the city, once abandoned, now thrived as the increasing population snatched up properties left and right, revitalizing the area. This market area was one such case, where the old stores still sat boarded up and neglected, but not a stone’s throw away, a newly refurbished store proudly displayed its wears. It gave one a disjointed feeling, as a man’s instincts didn’t know whether to focus on the shadows or the light.
This time of the night, we came across few pedestrians, and the city noise was muted. The scent of sea water and brine wafted stronger than usual as the wind changed, coming in from the west. Being a long-term resident of the city, I expertly ignored it.
We went down the street and the question bubbled out, unbidden, “Is Seaton truly that carefree?”
“If by carefree you mean a huge, irrepressible child, then yes, that’s what he’s really like.” Edwards’ tone vibrated with amusement, though I could see little of her expression in the dim lighting between streetlights. “I always have to struggle to keep a straight face in public, as that dignified persona he wears is such a fake. I keep wanting to expose the man behind the curtain.”
Certain things clicked in my head. “So, his manner of dress…?”
“Pure theater. He likes the dramatic. I’ve heard people hypothesize he’s a crossdresser, or trans, but that’s not it. He just likes makeup and costumes. It’s the inner child in him. He manages to restrain his more outlandish stunts in public, for the dignity of the Crown, but in private there’s no stopping him. I would have been lost without him, you know.”
I didn’t like the unhappy downturn I heard in her voice. “When you first escaped, you mean?”
“Yeah. He kept me laughing even while he struggled to make sure I could breathe. They say humor’s the best medicine. I have to say, I gotta agree.”
Magic and the Shinigami Detective Page 16
