* * *
I stepped outside, and the presence of the dead wasn’t the only thing that was jarring. I’d left Saint Louis only a matter of minutes ago. It’d been a rainy, saturated mess. But here the sun was out, still morning, but warmer and brighter and on the surface, beautiful to look at.
I knew the smartest thing to do was hurry down the concrete path, to stay focused on the little church across the street that was almost as plain as that old church in Pilot Knob. But something called my attention, tugging on my aura. And even as my feet carried me toward that church, something drew my gaze to the south.
Ghostly cannons stood along the ridge, manned by the dead. The earth didn’t heave and move like that horrible corridor under the ground, but this place was terrible. My steps slowed, and I stared slack-jawed at the sunken road in the distance where, piled one on top of the other, lay the soul-bearing ghosts of countless soldiers. I knew enough from the stories Koda used to tell me that it had to be Bloody Lane.
My presence here drew the attention of darker things, and I could feel the gravemakers surging beneath the battlefield. There were more here than anything I’d experienced since Gettysburg. I didn’t know if it was the mantle of Anubis, or just my own inherent necromancy, or some combination of the two, but I wanted to call to them. I wanted to see how many would rise. And that thought alone was enough to send the terrible bark-like flesh bubbling to the surface of the earth near that cluster of ghosts.
I shook my head and hurried away; I had to get to back Saint Charles. The faster I got back, the faster we could help Park, and hopefully solidify our alliance with the National Guard there. I stepped into the grass between the sidewalk and the asphalt road that cut through the battlefield. It was a mistake. The pavement had provided more of a barrier than I’d realized. My shoulders sagged with the weight of that place. It was no longer the gravemakers my powers wanted to reach out to. It was the countless souls tied to the earth, and tied to death.
I gritted my teeth and focused on the church, on putting one foot in front of the other. I closed my mind off as best I could, so the cries and screams faded until I could focus once more on the feel of the earth beneath each footfall. I wasn’t sure what they expected Dell to truly do in a place like this. Either one of us would be at risk of being overwhelmed by the dead.
I hurried across the asphalt, and a few more steps over the tortured earth took me to the front door of the old church. I didn’t wait. I glanced back, taking in the modern vista of the welcome center, and the ocean of dead behind it. I wrapped my fingers between Gaia’s and stepped into the only place I thought might be darker than Antietam.
* * *
I took a shaky breath as the comforting darkness of the Abyss wrapped its arms around me, and I savored the silence before Gaia had fully formed at my side.
“Are you well?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes, you were right about that being an uncomfortable trip.” I gave her a half smile. Uncomfortable was a hell of an understatement.
“Do you wish to return to Death’s Door?” Gaia asked.
I didn’t think I’d ever heard her refer to the shop as Death’s Door. I wasn’t sure if I was amused or disturbed. “Yes. Please.”
I watched distant lights in the Abyss shift and move and blink out. I wondered what titanic creatures might be lurking in that vast space, slowed by the strange time here, locked in perpetual frustration, much like Tessrian.
“Can you help me return Tessrian to the Burning Lands?” I asked, trying to take my attention away from the leviathans that seemed to be growing ever-closer.
“It is possible,” she said. “But you would need to travel with the Key of the Dead once more, and that is a dangerous thing to bring into the Abyss. Though I suppose it may be less dangerous than freeing Tessrian on your plane and bringing her here as a free being.”
“I’m pretty sure I may have issues either way,” I said. “Even if I don’t release her here, I’ll have to release her in the Burning Lands. Once she’s out, and in a realm where she has much power, well, things could get interesting.”
“She has no sense of time inside her prison,” Gaia said. “You could leave her there.”
“No,” I said, “that’s the one thing I can’t do. I gave her my word, Gaia. And that has to mean something.”
“The word of men can be coerced. Though I suppose, if you cannot trust your own word, then whose can you trust?”
I wasn’t 100% sure if Gaia was agreeing with me or trying to make a point about people in general, but I was going to go with the former for now. We slowed, and Gaia frowned. “We are here, but there are more bodies within your shop than when you left.”
“Living bodies?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Well, that’s good. I guess I’ll see you soon.”
“Travel well,” Gaia said, and she released my hand.
She still hadn’t mastered the art of returning me to Death’s Door. I wasn’t sure if it was the wards, or the blood shield, or just the general chaos of magic around the shop, but sometimes I had a smooth landing, and sometimes Gaia sent me flailing into a brick wall.
I cursed when the back door appeared in front of me, and grunted when I smacked into it a moment later. “Ow, that was my nose!”
“Is it broken?” asked the deadbolt from the other side of the door, an edge of unabashed glee in its voice.
“I don’t know,” I said, talking into my cupped hands.
“You okay?” Foster asked as he glided into my vision.
I scrunched up my nose and winced at the pain, but I didn’t think it was enough that it was broken. And honestly, even if it were, I’d be tempted to let it heal on its own. Getting my nose healed by magic was one of the most painful things I’d ever experienced.
“Gaia said there’s an extra body here. Who is it?”
Foster blinked at me. “That old Titan is right. Come see for yourself.”
* * *
To say I was happy to see that the extra body in front of the shop was not only alive, but was Mike the Demon, was a gross understatement. The bulky blacksmith raised a hand in greeting, his thick leather apron stained with recent work.
“Hey, Mike,” I said. “Good to see you again.”
“And you, my friend,” Mike said.
“Where’s Sarah?” I asked, when I realized his figurative and literal shadow was not with him.
“I suppose she has found her independence in little bits,” Mike said, “now that she seems to have been reborn. She’s with our allies at the Obsidian Inn.”
“So everyone’s okay there?” I asked.
“In a matter of speaking,” Mike said. “With a conflict imminent, I don’t know that I would say anyone is okay.”
I nodded.
Foster landed on the countertop beside Aideen, and that’s when I noticed the array of weaponry that had been laid out across the glass. A few clips of modern ammunition next to a dozen or more survival knives, and perhaps most odd, two ancient swords.
“Are you going to fashion a weapon out of all these?” I asked.
“They’re already weapons,” Frank said. He popped his head up from the aisle off to my right, scaring me half to death.
“Christ, Frank,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I didn’t see you there.”
A large form moved outside the front window, and I blinked at the shadow before I realized it was Aeros strolling by on the cobblestone street.
Mike glanced at the window. “I may have coaxed him out of hiding. I hadn’t spoken to the old rock in quite some time.”
“What about Alexandra?” I asked.
“I came with a message of my home,” Mike said. “She was needed back at the Obsidian Inn. Nixie and Euphemia had asked her to return.”
“Let’s hope we don’t need them here,” I said, wincing as I rubbed my nose.
“Are you well?” Aideen asked.
“Let’s just say I had a rough landing,” I said. “Although I did get to see Caroline, Dell, Utukku, and some of her people. That was an unexpected surprise.”
Aideen frowned. “If Caroline was there, then I know what armory you were at. That would be a trying trip for any necromancer.”
I nodded. “I didn’t think anyone was supposed to know where these things were at?”
“I don’t,” Foster said. “And I don’t want to. The less reason people have to torture me, the better.”
Frank barked out a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Oh,” I said, fishing around in my backpack for the leather satchel. I lifted it, and held the aged leather out to Mike. He took it carefully.
“It’s perhaps good that Alexandra isn’t here. These blades can be somewhat unstable when they are shattered. I wouldn’t want to see her come to harm.”
“How dangerous is it?” I asked. “Is this dangerous enough that it could kill her?”
Mike blew out a short laugh. He untied the top of the sack and pulled out a curved sliver, which reminded me more than anything of an underwire from one of Sam’s bras that had once jammed up my parents’ washing machine. “They don’t truly turn to stone.”
“Those water witches they sank into the rivers sure look like stone,” I said.
“So, what is it?” Frank asked. “Like rigor mortis for the Fae?”
Mike frowned and nodded. “An apt description.”
“Rigor mortis is temporary,” I said. “Do they become something else?”
“I usually burn my enemies,” Mike said, “for I rarely had the opportunity to study what happens to them.”
I blinked.
Mike continued as if he hadn’t said anything mildly horrifying. “I’ll need some place to work. I can do it here, but will need to set up an area where we can be sure none of the shards escapes.”
“And if we miss any?” I asked. “Would that be like stepping on a Lego in the middle of the night?”
“A bit worse than that,” Foster said.
“If one of the water witches stepped on it,” Aideen said, “it would turn the base of their foot into what you refer to as stone. It would slow them down, and prevent them from transforming completely into water. It makes them susceptible to attack.
“The blades are forged from Magrasnetto. You need a creature of raw magical power to be able to detect the tiniest shards. Jasper would be able to do it.”
“I don’t want to take him away from Vicky,” I said. “Not unless we absolutely have to.”
“Graybeard, then,” Foster said. “He’s all magic and soul and bone.”
“Is he close?” Mike asked. “I’d prefer not to delay. I need to get back to the Obsidian Inn. Much as you don’t wish to leave Vicky alone without Jasper, I don’t wish to leave Sarah in a dangerous situation.”
I nodded. “All you need to do is turn on the news. He hasn’t exactly kept a low-profile. Although I guess that would be rather hard to do with the skeletal ghost ship flying over the ground where rivers used to be.”
This time it was Mike’s turn to blink. “He’s not in hiding?”
I shook my head. “He’s … well … been spending some time with the researchers at Washington University. He apparently took issue with someone’s reports on his namesake.”
“It gets better,” Foster said. “The ghost panda is down there keeping him in line.” Foster laughed. “So, you have a ghost panda and Graybeard speaking to academics at one of the most prestigious schools in the area?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and winced. “Yes, well, the important thing is we can get Graybeard here rather quickly. Or we could go to him.”
Mike looked around the front of the shop. “Keep the store closed. I’ll start preparing things. Summon Graybeard.”
I closed my eyes and sent my aura racing toward downtown Saint Louis. It could be difficult to contact Graybeard, but Happy was always easy to find. In the background, I heard Mike ask, “What’s he doing?”
“Summoning Graybeard,” Frank said. “That’s what you wanted.”
The rest of the conversation faded as I made the connection with Happy. The panda raised his head at my contact, cracking it on the desk of a startled-looking research assistant. She probably couldn’t see the panda, but he still had enough energy to move physical objects.
“Graybeard. Bring him to the shop.”
It will be done . Shiawase’s voice boomed inside my head. The thunderous sound reminded me of Aeros, but more ethereal.
When I opened my eyes again, no one remained. It only took me a moment to find them, tipped off by the sharp bark of the cu sith rising above the ambient noise of the old settling building. I walked into the back through the saloon-style doors and crouched down to climb into Bubbles’s lair.
“That’s not going to cut it,” Frank said, looking at the old sheet in Mike’s hand. “It’s all linen. It’ll catch fire like dry hay on the Fourth of July.”
“No,” Mike growled. “I told you it will not. I know the temperatures of my own forge, journeyman. Don’t think to tell me otherwise.”
“I’ll tell you otherwise if you’re going to try to burn the damn shop down.”
I smiled at Frank, the smaller man glaring up at the fire demon. Mike finally exhaled, turning away from Frank. “Fine, what do you suggest?”
“A circle shield,” Frank said. “The sphere will catch it all. If I understand your magic a fraction as well as you think you do, it won’t be cut off by being encased inside a circle shield.”
Mike the Demon frowned.
“It’d be hard not to pick up a few things, being around Damian and Zola.”
Mike glanced at Frank. “You’ve done your research.”
“I think we’ve established that at this point,” I said.
Mike gave me a half smile. “I suppose we have, indeed. And yes, Frank, you are correct.” He looked to Aideen. “What do you think?”
“I believe it should be enough,” Aideen said.
“For outside, as well.” Mike crossed his arms and frowned at the hollowed-out stone that formed the cu siths’ lair. “So be it. This should be deep enough in the earth to at least partially mask my work with the hammer.”
Something sizzled in the air, not unlike bacon slapped down on a hot griddle. I suddenly found myself torn between being hungry and being concerned with what the sound might be.
Happy appeared a moment later, his fluffy butt backing through a portal, dragging a pirate skeleton with a very grumpy parrot on his shoulder. Parrot was perhaps a generous word, considering the bird was half decayed and bore brilliant golden eyes.
“Get off me coat, you daft bear!” Graybeard swatted Happy, but the panda casually moved his snout away, so Graybeard gave him more of a quick rub than a slap. Happy nudged my thigh with his broad nose. I scratched him behind the ears.
“You can go if you want,” I said. “We should only need Graybeard for this.”
The panda chuffed and took two trundling steps back into the portal.
Graybeard glanced up at me, and the parrot glowered. “I was having a perfectly fine conversation, with a perfectly fine lass, before your beast dragged me off.”
“Glad to see you’re adapting to our time of technological wonders, and not being dead.”
I held out my hand to help Graybeard to his feet.
“What is it you be needing?”
“Mike’s forging weapons for our allies,” I said. “To use against the water witches. We need you to tell us if any of the fragments get away.”
“If you need help forging those blades,” Graybeard said, “you likely would’ve been better off talking to the bear.”
“He’s a samurai,” Mike said, “not a sword smith. Not even a blacksmith.”
“Bloody hell,” Graybeard muttered. “Let’s get on with it then. I’d like to get back to helping Miss Marshall with her research.”
“Damian,” Mike said. “Set the circle, and I’ll begin.”