by Jen Pretty
The vampires helpfully kept their distance as Oban took the book Falcor handed him. "We are searching for information about a witch. She stole Selena's blade."
"I think she can change her appearance too," I said.
"You didn't mention that."
"It just occurred to me. I had never met anyone who scared away my wraiths before. But three times, the wraiths disappeared since I left the Sanctuary, and they vanished again a moment before she stabbed me in the shower."
"Jesus," Falcor said, flipping open the book in his hand. "It would take a lot of power for a witch to do that."
"Do you think it’s coming from the blade? The power, I mean?" Pete asked.
"Oh shit. Now I’m thinking that," I replied.
We all sat in stunned silence for a moment.
"We need to get that knife back," Falcor said.
"That’s what I’ve been saying," I replied, rolling my eyes. "I know you guys can't see them, but there have been wraiths following me all the time. Just in the last hour, they have found me here." I waved my hand toward the far wall of the cabin where three wraiths bobbed. One had her mouth open in a scream the whole time. It was disturbing.
Henry rose from his chair, closest to the wraiths I had just indicated, and crossed the room. He was about to sit against the wall near the fireplace but stopped himself. He looked at me, then glanced back at the floor, then back at me.
I gave him a nod and thumbs up when it became apparent he wasn't going to sit down until I could assure him that there were no wraiths in that location. I wouldn't have told him even if there was. I didn't need guards who were too busy worrying about invisible dead people than focusing on getting my knife back. We had shit to do.
He slid down to the floor and flipped open his book again, but I noticed him glancing up at the far wall where I had pointed earlier every few minutes.
I would have laughed, but we didn't have time to waste. The wraiths had found me; how long would it be till the witch found me again?
I felt pretty sure that I wouldn't be attacked in front of everyone, but at some point, I would probably need to go to the bathroom, and I knew that indoor plumbing was something the cabin was lacking in.
I flipped through the thick book in my hands, skimming the pages while I waited for whatever magic helped me read other languages because it was definitely not English.
It wasn't long. I still had no idea what language I was reading, but it was mostly the history of a single witch clan—their family trees. There was lots of inbreeding in the coven, which made me wonder how many witches and warlocks hid away beneath the DPI headquarters were actually the fault of too many cousins marrying and having children.
"Do witches and warlocks only marry each other?" I asked.
Falcor nodded. "That used to be law among us. We changed it when children started to be born with deformities. The magic was no stronger, but the genetics were too weak."
"Hmm," I said, glancing at Oban and back to Falcor.
"I was told my bloodlines were pure, but I doubt that could be true as we stopped the intermarrying several generations ago. There must be some human genetics among us."
I found it interesting that it didn't seem that Oban was as powerful as Falcor. His genetics were almost the same, but then I had no idea how much genetics played in the strength of the witch or warlock.
"Could this witch just be very old and powerful all on her own, without my knife?" I asked.
Falcor grunted. "She could be, but more likely, she is mid-level powerful and using the knife to level up, or whatever you want to call it."
I wished I could go back to Phoenix and ask the witches there. They gave me the knife. But I didn't want to fly all around the country and risk the witch finding me before we had the information we needed.
I went back to my book, but by dinner time, I still had no better answers about her in particular or my knife.
"I found it!" Pete said. He handed the book to Falcor and pointed to a spot on the page.
"That looks like it," Falcor said, holding up the book so I could see.
There was a small hand-drawn picture of my blade. It was the right one. From the ornate handle to the scrolling symbols etched on the blade, it was exactly the same.
"What's it say?" I asked.
"Whoever wields the blade of eternity shall guard the living and the dead, keeping the dead on the lower side and the living on the top side until their time has come. To forfeit this duty is to bring the darkness back to earth. Only one hand shall bear the blade per lifetime. As one perishes, another must be chosen."
"So, this witch wants to kill me and--"
"Bring back the dead," Falcor said, his eyes rising from the book.
"Like all of them?" Henry asked.
Falcor shrugged. "Bring the darkness back to earth doesn't sound particularly encouraging."
"We need to get that blade back," I said again. "Cause I'm not dying, and some witch is not bringing all the dead back to earth. That's just messed up."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Falcor read the book cover to cover, then handed it to me, and I did the same thing. By the time I looked up, it was past midnight. Oban was passed out on the couch, his head tipped back and soft snores coming from his open mouth.
"You should eat something," Falcor said as I tried to reconnect with reality. The book had a lot of information about the underworld. It sounded like what the bible teaches is hell. If it was hell, would there be only evil people there? I didn't know, but I suddenly realized that I was the only thing keeping them at bay. My life was holding evil at bay. I felt fragile and small like a cork plug on the end of a giant glass bottle, under great pressure.
"Selena," Falcor said, pulling me back again.
"What?" I asked.
"Food?"
"Yeah, okay." He rose, and I set the book down to follow him. I couldn't collect my thoughts well enough to have a conversation with Falcor, but he didn't seem to mind. Or maybe he felt the same way.
The vampires were still going through the rest of the books. Having no need to sleep was a total bonus at times like this, but I was too tired, my eyes strained, to look at one more word.
I sat down at the small kitchen table while Falcor dished up whatever they had made. I took a deep breath through my nose and pulled in the smell of spaghetti. I hadn't even noticed it before.
He set down a bowl of pasta and a fork in front of me before sitting down.
"You aren't eating?"
He grinned. "I ate hours ago. We couldn't get your attention, or I would have given you some then."
"Jesus. I'm sorry."
Falcor shook his head. "It's like you were in a trance. But Crow didn't seem concerned, so we left you." He waved his hand toward Crow, who was perched upon the railing of the loft, his head tucked under his wing. The flickering light from the fireplace cast sparks of light across his feathers, making him look like he was made of fire himself.
I shook my head. "I don't know exactly what this means." I rubbed my forehead as I shoveled more of the pasta into my mouth. It looked delicious though I couldn't taste it at all. "The witches chose me as the one who would keep the dead below and the living above... God, I sound like whoever wrote that book. Is there really a below and above?"
Falcor stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes twinkling in the firelight. "I think you would know that better than any of us."
I still couldn't imagine that there was an actual place where the dead went. I had just assumed they disappeared when they weren't around me. It was easier to assume that.
My fork-scraped my empty plate. I hadn't even noticed I’d finished it, but my stomach felt overfull, and my eyes were so heavy that when Falcor offered to get me more, I turned him down and shuffled to the ladder. I stopped at the bottom when another pressing need arose.
I spun to look at Falcor. "Where is the bathroom?"
Falcor grinned. "Bundle up. It's just out the back door."
/> "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."
Falcor grinned. "Just past the woodshed. If you run, it’s just a few seconds to get there. I left a lamp inside; it should still be lit."
"Fuck," I scowled, but grabbed my hat and scarf and heavy coat, then pulled on my big boots." You sure you can't just shift us back to a real bathroom?"
Falcor just laughed as he put my plate on the counter and waved me off as I walked to the back door.
I took a deep breath and turned the knob to the back door. The night was dark and thick. And so fucking cold. The icy air constricted my lungs and froze my eyelids and nostrils together so fast I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to breathe. I ran out and slammed the door, racing around the side of the woodshed to see a tiny glow coming from what could only be described as a shack. I grabbed the handle and my fingers stuck to the metal slightly as I dragged it open and stepped inside.
Indeed. There was a toilet seat on a wooden shelf. Thankfully Falcor's lamp was still lit, but it offered no heat, obviously, and it was only slightly warmer in there than outside. I questioned whether I wanted to sit on the seat for only a second as my body insisted it was good enough.
I turned and sat on the cold seat and did what I needed to do while cursing Falcor for not hiding us in the desert or anywhere that the world wasn't trying to kill us off every second of every day.
I finished up and yanked my pants back on to warm my poor frozen ass before flinging the door open, ready to make a run for the door again, but there in front of me, under the light of the moon, floated hundreds of ghostly wraiths, led by one familiar one.
"Hello, Black Crow," Alaya said. I was immediately at ease, pretty sure that if she had meant me harm, she wouldn't have helped me start the fire.
"How's it going?" I asked, eyeing the door back into the cabin.
She smiled and glanced over her shoulder at the door. "We just need a second of your time."
"Sure," I said. "What's up?"
"Well, I've been talking with my friends here," she indicated the hoard of dead people behind her.
"Oh, good. What do they want? I can't raise wraiths right now."
"Yes, they know that. They asked me to tell you that the witch knows where you are, but you have the tools to defeat her. You just need to let them help you."
"Let who help me?
"The ones you are closest to. The ones who share your power."
I thought about that for only a second before coming up with Colvin, but she had said 'the ones.' "Colvin and who?" I asked.
"His magic flows with yours. You only need to ask, and he will help."
As they began to move away, I started to panic. I still didn't know who else she was talking about. "Colvin can't help me. He's not strong enough."
"Is he not? How would you know if you haven't tried? We don't want to see this world ruined by the past. You have to trust in those closest to you, Selena. Or you’ll never be what you’ll have to become."
"Wait, what will I have to become?" I called out, but they were all moving away now, and suddenly I was alone. It creeped me out enough that I turned and raced the two steps back into the cabin, slamming the door behind me. Both the vampires looked up at me then gave me a quizzical look like I had lost my mind. I mean, they could have a point.
"It’s fucking cold out there."
Pete chuckled, and Henry shook his head, going back to his book. That’s when I noticed another set of eyes on me. Oban was still sitting on the couch, his head resting against the back, but his eyes studied me with more familiarity now. I wanted to sit and talk to him. Find out about his life, like I used to do with wraiths that I would raise in the graveyard near my old apartment. Their lives always seemed so interesting in a time before TV and INTERNET and distractions that keep people tied to electronics now. They saw and did things that many people would never get to experience again. But the need for sleep was stronger.
"Do you need anything?" I asked him.
He shook his head and pulled the blanket covering his legs up onto his shoulders. "Thanks."
I smiled and then turned and climbed the ladder up to the loft. Falcor was already sleeping. His soft breath noises were soothing in the tight, warm space. All the heat from the fire had pooled in the loft, making it almost too warm, but I stripped out of my winter clothes and then pulled my sweater off, content to sleep in my jeans and t-shirt. Hopefully, this wouldn't be a long term stay, and we could get back to the real world soon.
I remembered all those calls and text messages and pulled my phone out of the pocket of my suitcase. The battery was dead. Colvin would have to wait until I made it home.
I gently lifted the blanket and slid between the sheets, careful not to wake Falcor. But as soon as I lay down, he turned on his side to face me, and his eyes opened. I turned to face him, too, and offered him a grin before closing my eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"For what?" I asked in an even quieter tone. I knew the vampires would hear us, no matter what, but the silence and calm of the night made loud words seem intrusive.
"Back in Niamey, when I tried to kill you."
I shook my head. "Which time?" I asked and grinned.
He shook his head. "No, the time I almost succeeded." He dragged a breath into his lungs. "I spelled the bullet--" he stopped and bit his lip.
I waited. I knew this apology was as much for him as it was for me. I had forgiven everything Falcor had done while under the power of the evil White Crow. But I had always wondered if it had been him that had sent that bullet into my brain. It was a close call, that time.
"I used some dark magic to control that officer. I can't believe I did that to you."
"It's okay--"
"No. It was never okay. I let him in by using that dark magic. I set the stage to allow myself to be used by evil, and evil used me. I knew better."
"We all make mistakes. I make them all the time."
He huffed. "You have never succeeded in almost killing your best friend."
I pushed myself closer to Falcor, and his arm slid around my shoulders.
"Nick is going to kill me when he finds out we slept in the same bed."
I snickered. "He trusts me. Besides, you're one of mine..." I reached up and touched the soft blue light that shone from Falcor's forehead in the shape of a feather. Most people couldn't see it, but I could, and it was a constant reminder that I had chosen Falcor, and that was forever. "He can't kill you."
Falcor laughed. "I was never worried about that. I mean, he could try--"
I poked him in the ribs, making him snort. I had never heard Falcor snort, and the sound was enough to send me into a fit of giggles that was too loud in the quiet cabin, but I couldn't stop. By the time I finally got them under control, tears were pooled in the eyelids, and my stomach hurt.
I sighed and squished down into the pillow. "I forgive you."
"Thank you." He bowed his head awkwardly on the pillow then looked up at me, his dark eyes heavy with emotion and exhaustion.
"I'll see you in the morning," I said and closed my eyes.
"You will," he replied. "Until the end of my days." The last part was whispered so softly, I wasn't sure I heard it, but then sleep grabbed me and pulled me under.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
***
My wings were tired. The muscles ached, and the bones felt soft like they bent under the weight of every flap. The world below me was a barren wasteland—no trees or grass. Nowhere to land, the ground blazed with sparks that spat into the sky like arms reaching out to grab me. I fought on, aiming for the calm blue I could see ahead. It seemed to move further away the more I struggled, but I couldn't give up. I had to keep moving. She needed me.
A cool breeze picked up, and I almost dropped from the sky at the relief it brought me.
"Keep going, silly bird," a voice called out.
I wanted to scream back that I couldn't, that I was too tired, but if I stopped for even a second, I would surel
y drop from the sky and land in the fires below.
"She won't be there if you don't make it back."
I knew the voice was right. I could feel the truth of her words. So, I struggled on, flapping harder, until finally, the blue expanded and filled my vision. It was so bright after the nothingness of the underworld that I had to blink. Afraid to look away for even a second, I forced my burning eyes to stay on the target. To stay on the goal.
Then the colours surrounded me—a field with green grass and trees of red and gold and silver. I let my wings fall, let them fall back, and the ground dragged me down.
I didn't hit the ground, though. A soft pair of hands caught me and pulled me to a warm chest, cradling me like a child.
"Silly bird. My sister needs you still. Time to start working as a team." Slate frowned softly down at me. "You aren't meant to fight this war on your own. Go now. Find her and stay by her side."
I felt revived, my muscles no longer ached, my bones felt strong and solid. I spread my wings, and she lifted her hands, tossing me into the sky. From up high, her black hair twinkled in the sunlight as dark and deep as my feathers.
***
I bolted up from the bed, and my eyes immediately latched onto Crow's. He simply blinked at me, perched on the rail to the loft still. But I knew then that these were his memories. He had been sharing them with me.
"You were there?" I asked.
"What?" Falcor asked, still half asleep beside me.
"Nothing," I said, laying back on the bed but keeping my eyes on the bird. He had seen my sister after he came out of the underworld. I wondered if Nevermore was between us and the underworld, like a kind of purgatory. That would make sense. If the animals that the fake White Crow had summoned were from the Underworld, that would make a lot of sense.
Everything started to come together, and I wasn't sure I wanted to understand it all. If I was the one who could unleash them with the blade. And the blade had been the downfall of the White Crow, then Slate was also in danger. I had a new reason to end this and get my knife back. It was one thing to threaten me, but another to threaten my sister. My family.
