Dragon-Marin gingerly stretched out her wings. She tucked them against her body and spread them again. She gave a few little flutters then fell still.
Come on.
Marin’s voice in his head was impatient.
He was feeling a little impatient himself. “What’s with the dead people?” He climbed up, again using the little ridge to leverage himself onto her back.
I think the dead have some kind of power over Nate.
As she took a deep breath, her sides expanded. Ah, this was likely to hurt. Jack kept his mouth shut while Marin launched herself in the air.
It was a rockier ride this time. And while her wings must have healed a little as they’d investigated the crypt-mausoleum, she’d sustained deep flesh wounds. He didn’t know the specifics of how Marin accomplished flight—some bizarre combination of magic, brute strength, and gliding, but otherwise it was a mystery. He could see that her wings lacked the range of motion they’d had before, and yet they still managed to take off.
Once their ascent stopped and Marin wasn’t working so hard to stay in the air, he asked, “What’s with the dead people?”
Churches tend to be rebuilt on the same location. The church was new, but I’d bet you that the site has held some religious significance for a while.
“And how does that help us? Oh, wait, you mentioned cemeteries. You think there was a cemetery there that isn’t marked any longer.” Jack dared a look down. As the world tilted, he quickly looked back ahead. The sky was cool. He could watch the sky. He didn’t need proof of how high they were or how very mortal he was. They didn’t
Graves, yes. It may never have been a proper cemetery. And it’s possible I might have missed the presence of death magic in the mausoleum.
“Oh, shit.” Death magic was bad. Very bad…and very powerful. “Shit. You think they sealed the cage with a sacrifice.”
Possibly. Consider the historic cultural influences of the area. The Mayans believed in sacrifice, and some of those beliefs—especially if they conferred great power, as death magic does—might have persisted in the magical community. And we don’t know how long he was down there. Maybe long enough to have been interred during the reign of the Mayans.
“But killing someone to supercharge the wards on a cage—that’s messed up.”
Even if it saves a town from a rampaging beast?
“You are not saying we consider it?”
I’m not. Death magic is taboo for a reason. I’m just trying to explain what might have happened. We need to know how that cage was powered, and death magic would pack a pretty big punch.
“Let’s go back to the dead people.”
Right. If our guy’s weakness is the dead, that explains how Grandma Abi was able to chase him away. It might also explain the cage’s location. If that area is a forgotten cemetery or gravesite, then placing the cage there would make sense. Being surrounded by the dead either made him weaker or somehow fed into the ward that surely must have been wrapped around the cage to contain him.
“I see what you’re saying, but there are some serious issues here. The evidence we have is very limited, and—”
Are you doubting my deductive skills?
“I think you’re guessing—does that count?”
That weird grumbly noise echoed in his head.
“Don’t do that. It’s seriously creepy.” Jack paused, considered his current elevation, and added, “And your deductive reasoning is stellar.”
Your second concern?
“Assuming you’re right and that location holds some power, why in the hell would Nate go anywhere near it?”
We already knew that was a challenge.
True.
“Well, more so than we expected. It’s not just about the cage, but about the power of the location. I wouldn’t go near that place, if I’d been locked up for decades, or maybe even centuries.”
We count on ego. A massive, ancient, powerful being’s ego. All other creatures are merely little things that scurry below. Trust me. If anyone knows about ego, it’s me. You’ve met Lachlan and my dad, right?
Jack winced at the mention of her dad. Yet another reason to wrap this mess up fast. Not that the imminent murder of another townsperson wasn’t motivation enough. Damn, he was tired.
Heads up: we’re about to land.
He should have realized, because for a while now they’d been gliding.
They touched down with only a few bobbles. Jack slid off her back and went to fetch her clothes at a jog. He found them in a pile nearby, scooped them up, and headed back in her direction—but she was still in dragon form. Still lying on the ground, the position she’d taken so he could more easily hop off her back.
Her wings were outspread and resting on the ground, as were her long neck and even her chin. If he couldn’t see the glint in over-bright green eyes, he’d have thought she’d passed out.
“Are you okay?”
I hurt. And I’m tired.
That wasn’t a very Marin-like admission. Then again, her dad had never been AWOL before.
“Uh, would you hurt less in your human form?”
Puffs of steam came out of her nostrils in a very dragonlike sigh.
He laid the clothes out next to her, then scanned the house for any signs of Abi.
He was untangling his cell from the harness they’d rigged so he could more easily text her, when Marin said, “She’s headed this way.”
First he checked that he’d actually heard Marin’s voice with his ears and not in his head, and, finding her very human self standing behind him, he followed her gaze until he spotted Abi.
The poor woman was dressed in a nightgown, robe, and tennis shoes with no socks. He pocketed his phone and then lifted a hand in greeting.
He and Marin headed in her direction. When they caught up with her, she nodded toward the house. “There’s coffee or tea if you’re interested. I know you’ve both got to be tired.” She frowned and peered closer at Marin. “And I can have a quick look at your wounds.”
The wounds had clotted earlier, but that was before Marin had flown them who knew how many miles. They weren’t bleeding profusely, but enough to seep through the material of her shirt in just the short time she’d been dressed.
Marin glanced at one of her bloody sleeves. “That’s probably not a terrible idea. Maybe a poultice? A little yarrow…”
“I’ve got a special recipe that should do just the trick,” Abi said. “Let’s head up to the house. Iris took a sleeping pill, so I doubt anything short of a bugle will wake her at this point.”
Jack could smell the coffee as soon as they walked into the house. “I would love a cup of coffee. Can I help myself while you patch up Marin?” When Abi nodded, Jack asked, “Can I get anything for you guys?”
Marin and Abi replied in the negative, so Jack fetched his coffee. There were mugs, sugar, and a small pitcher of milk sitting next to a pot of French press coffee. It looked like Abi had been up and waiting for a little while.
He grabbed his mug and joined the ladies at the kitchen table. Abi was applying the poultice she’d already made to Marin’s right arm. She met Jack’s gaze and said, “Grandmother told me Marin had been injured, so I gathered a few supplies.”
Jack couldn’t believe their luck. “When was this? And what else did she have to say?”
“She popped in briefly; I’m not sure when. She wants to know what your plan is.”
Jack wouldn’t mind knowing that himself. “Do you know when she’ll back in touch?”
“I asked, and she says keeping an eye on you guys has been pretty exhausting.” Abi gave Marin and Jack a critical look. “Maybe you guys can try to get in less trouble?”
So Grandma Abi had been playing guardian angel. It hadn’t been a coincidence that she’d been around when they were attacked. No wonder her appearances were so brief. She was a well-traveled ghost; cruising all over Corozal had to drain her.
“If we aren’t here, make sure you tell your grandmother how much we appreciate her help. Nate came out of nowhere. I didn’t even see him until he’d already ripped up my wings.”
“I’m sorry—Nate?” Abi rubbed her temple. “Did you guys name the aswang?”
Jack shared a guilty look with Marin. Why did everyone think that was so weird?
“Never mind.” Abi waved a hand then went about applying another poultice to Marin’s left arm. “Whatever makes you feel better. Did you guys notice each of these wounds is a set of three deep furrows? Almost like a hawk or a vulture.”
“We thought he could change shapes,” Marin said. “Maybe he doesn’t just wear human skins.”
Abi blinked. “Again, not asking.”
“Best not to. We found Nate’s—the aswang’s—old cage. If you get the chance, can you confirm with Grandma Abi whether that area used to be a graveyard?” When Abi agreed, Marin gave her directions to the little church. There hadn’t been a sign out front, so it was the best she could do.
“Oh, yeah, I don’t need to ask Grandmother about that. Definitely yes. You can even read about it on a little plaque next to the church.” Abi bit back a smile.
“Aha.” Jack took a sip of his coffee to keep himself from saying that it was dark, or they’d been short on time…or anything else that reeked of justification. They’d hit the ground running on this case. From the moment they’d landed in Corozal, they’d been reacting or chasing after some new lead. They hadn’t had a chance to get ahead of the case, and it was time to do exactly that. “We need to head out and get some sleep. With any luck, we’re getting an autopsy report on one of the victims tomorrow, and we should have some more information from our sources Sally and Kaisermann, as well.”
“And the plan? Other than gathering more information?” Abi asked.
Given the fact that less than twenty-four hours had passed since they’d even left Austin, taking a little time to do some research and gather data was hardly irresponsible. But he supposed they did have a plan, of sorts. One without any details—but it was a plan.
Marin removed the poultice on her right arm and checked the wound. “The plan is to lure Nate back to the cage, trap him in it, and seal it. We might have a lead on how to close it up again. We just need to chat with Grandma Abi and our other sources to see if it’s feasible.”
Jack eyed Marin. “We’re not doing that thing—”
“No, not that thing. Just something similar.”
Jack hadn’t a clue what “something similar” could possibly be—because killing someone to power a spell kinda sat in its own little twisted and jacked-up category.
Marin frowned and said, “It’s still brewing in my head, Jack. Let me sleep on it. Abi, thank you so much for your help.” She stood up and extended her hand. “Might we come by early tomorrow to attempt contact with your grandmother again?”
“Absolutely. Text me when you’re en route.” Abi turned to Jack and extended her hand. Jack took it and was surprised when she clasped his warmly with both hands. “Thank you. I do understand that what you’re doing is dangerous. It’s just frustrating to be on the sidelines. And I’m worried for Iris.”
Jack nodded. He could understand that. The sidelines sucked.
Once they were out the front door, Marin handed the keys to Jack. And he didn’t get a chance to poke at her and find out what exactly she was thinking as far as sealing Nate’s cage, because she was asleep almost as soon as the car started moving.
Yet another very un-Marin thing to do.