Chapter Twenty
I slept 10 hours. When I got up, there was fresh coffee and an envelope on the counter. Zoe was in the pool, Ivy on her chaise, eyes closed. Her color was better, but I saw her walker beside the chaise. I was glad she was using it, but it signaled that she felt far worse than she wanted to let on.
I had three messages on my cell. Even though it was on the bed beside me, I must have turned the ringer off. But first coffee. I carried this and the envelope out to the patio.
“Where’s Bruce?” I sat down in the S-chair beside her, in my robe.
“He went off somewhere with Agnes.” Ivy responded to me without opening her eyes.
Picking up my phone, I texted that I urgently needed to see him. “What’s in the envelope?”
Opening one eye, Ivy didn’t bother to answer, simply raised an eyebrow. I slit the envelope with my finger.
In my hands lay the formula for capturing Bijou, printed out on printer paper. I read it, astonished at how simple it appeared to be. Bijou was obtained by placing a drop of the essential oil of a particular rare fruit—sort of like an olive from what I could make out, obtained only in Macedonia—on the person’s forehead as they take their dying breath. A cloth, preferably pure silk, is placed over the nose and mouth. When the soul emerges, its absorption into the universe is slowed by the cloth, is attracted to the oil. The soul cleaves to the drop, solidifies into a hard substance, and becomes Bijou. Charlotte claimed this can only be successfully done by a family member. The practice, sent down to us from our ancestors only worked for someone with Novak, or Delphine, blood.
Could the Novaks and the Delphines be related? I was stunned to think so, but there was a certain logic to it. We had the same abilities. We had come from the same part of the world. It sickened me to think that Dominique and I could be cousins a thousand times removed.
My mind whirling, I read on. The very next page told how to restore Bijou. It was difficult, as it involved transporting the Bijou to Phantom City and locating the restless wraith whose soul has been stolen. They will do anything to get their Bijou back if they know it’s close. You get their attention with a talisman of their life—something important to them: a photo of a loved one, a smell they adored, a favorite song. Once you produce the Bijou they want to seize it immediately. But if this all happens too fast their Bijou can shatter and the wraith might attack at that point. But if you can slowly place the Bijou in their hand, they can become true ghosts of their former selves.
Nervousness shuddered through me as I gazed at Ivy, her eyes closed again. What would Hollis need more than anything else? The growl of his Harley? The music of Flipper? Hollis had never married, Ivy said. He left no children behind, at least that we knew of. He had lots of girlfriends, but which one was his favorite?
Perhaps Mae could tell me. Mae and Hollis had been close, at least until he betrayed her by blogging that her gypsy poem was a lesbian love song. She got unreasonably mad about that. Mae should have forgiven him. But he never acted remorseful. Indeed, he was resentful of her for shunning him that summer. Sawyer and I never could figure out why they were so angry at each other.
I had so many questions, and I couldn’t get at the answers until I went back to the City to see Dad.
I had to admit, after seeing how ill Ivy was becoming, I wanted to explore the idea that Bijou could be used to cure disease. I hated to think the only source I had for getting it was my sworn enemy. And besides, it was unconscionable to use a person’s soul in any way, even to make an ailing person well. My heart fell heavily in my chest. I didn’t want Ivy to die.
And what if Hollis’s soul had been taken before death was irreversible? My recipe made no mention of how to assess how close someone was to dying. How would Ivy know Hollis was as good as dead? She had no medical training, as Dom and I had. Could you tell by looking at the Bijou whether it was plain old rejuvenation juice or the fabled elixir of immortality?
“You have this oil?” I leaned toward her, my hands damp at how close I was to a terrible secret.
Nodding, Ivy opened both eyes this time.
“How did you get it?”
Before she could answer, my phone buzzed with a message, Bruce responding he was on his way home. I wondered how long that would take. 5 minutes or 5 hours?
“Ivy, I have to go back.” My stomach sank at the thought of it, and worse, whether to take Zoe with me or leave her here with Ivy. I knew Ivy wouldn’t willingly let anything happen to Zoe, but Ivy could get distracted and one-way about anything, and drag Zoe right into it with her.
Ivy didn’t even ask what I was talking about. She knew.
I continued, not so much to let Ivy know what was going on, but to order everything in my mind. “I saw Jack yesterday.” Ivy gazed at me, and I saw her lips tighten. I told her about Baby Justin haunting him, and my experience at the water temple.
“Water guardians,” Ivy said, nodding. “Makes sense.”
“Meth freaks at our old house, dogs at the Sanatorium, floods at the water temple. I wonder what is guarding the old VA hospital.”
“Marines?”
We laughed at this, and I felt a little better. Then my heart slid downward again as I told Ivy about meeting Dominique and her veiled threat against Zoe.
Ivy sat up. She gazed over my shoulder, as if at the hole Mae had punched in the wall. “Think she’ll trade the Bijou for Zoe’s safety?”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d expected Ivy to ignore the problem, hope it would go away. But she was taking this seriously. Fear rattled up my spine. Dominique was serious. She would really do it. I moved my chair closer to Ivy, lowered my voice. “Why does she want Zoe? Why would she even hint at such a thing? I thought it was just to threaten me.”
Ivy’s eyes narrowed, their gorgeous blue darkening to cobalt. “I’m not sure. But I remember a story someone used to tell, maybe Grandma, who I barely remember. The only way to open a portal permanently, allow all ghosts and wraiths and spirits to flood the earth, is with blood, Novak or Delphine, spilled at the portal entrance.”
A vague memory of this information swam up from a deep place. Maybe Ivy had once taunted me, telling me I was to be the one sacrificed.
We had to force Bruce to give up the Bijou. He would do it, if we told him the reason. Wouldn’t he?
“What if I could get Bijou from Dad?” I didn’t even know I had the idea. He’d had all those ampules. Certainly he would give me one to help Ivy and to protect Zoe. We were family, after all.
Sitting up, Ivy touched my arm. I gazed at her fingers, fine-boned and festooned with rings. “Do you think you could?”
“Not to sell, Ivy. Not for money.”
She shook her head, but I could see she was a little disappointed about that.
I said, “I have to take Pepper with me, and Bruce. You are the only one who can protect Zoe. I don’t want to take her over. Besides, I am going to use a portal and if the guardians are there, it would be too dangerous. Don’t let her out of your sight for a moment. Don’t leave the house until I get back.”
She nodded furiously, and if I wondered at her sincerity, could I be blamed? But I believed she would take care of Zoe for me.
“There’s one other thing.” I thought I heard the rattle of Bruce’s old car in the driveway. “That fire, the tree. Mae didn’t cause that.”
Ivy’s old smirk was back. “I know. It was Hollis.”
Damn. “Just like Baby Justin. He’s glued to us because we have his Bijou.” I gazed at her, closely. She kept her gaze on my face. “You didn’t.”
Her jaw thrust out. “No, of course not. I know what would happen if I used that stuff. I wanted to sell it, that’s all. Then he would haunt whoever was using it.” But she smiled, smoothed her cheek with her hand. “It would be nice to get rid of some wrinkles, though.”
I wasn’t amused. “But if you got Xtra, it would be worse, wouldn’t it? Who knows what wraiths do to someone who uses Xtra?”
“Dominique does.” Ivy tapped her chin. “I wonder how she deals with all those wraiths over the years?”
Ivy had a good point, but I couldn’t consider it now as Bruce appeared from the breezeway. I was relieved to see that Agnes wasn’t with him. How did Dom keep the wraiths away?
When I told Bruce I needed him to help me go back to the City again, he looked at his mother for confirmation. To my great relief Ivy cooperated by telling Bruce he had to do it. Neither of us brought up the whereabouts of Hollis’s Bijou. Better to wait until he helped me go over.
Zoe was another matter. She very nearly staged a tantrum of major proportions, until Ivy promised pizza and any movie Zoe could find on streaming video. I dreaded to think what horror flick my precocious girl would choose, but it was Ivy’s worry, not mine.
Zoe barely listened to me as I laced up my running shoes. “You and Ivy must stay home. Things are too unsettled. You know that, right?”
Her arms folded, she gave me an almost imperceptible nod. She wore her blue teal swim suit, and wrapped an orange towel around her waste. I hoped one day she would understand sartorial rules, but at least she was creative in her color choices.
Bruce looked at me curiously as I got into my car and let Pepper in the back. But without a word he got in the passenger seat and didn’t say anything until we pulled up in front of the old Novak house.
“Cool.”
In just a bulky sweatshirt, Bermuda-style shorts and flip-flops, my nephew looked just like any other California teenager, except he had the ability to part rivers in Hell. I looked him over. “You know, I think you’ve lost a little weight since I’ve been here.”
Bruce smiled. He had never, in all the years I had know him, given me attitude. “That’s where Agnes and I go, you know. To a workout club. She gets me in free.”
I had to believe it. They were not wildly fucking in someone’s garage. They just liked to work out together. I wondered if Sawyer knew.
The day was blistering hot. Noon sun broiled overhead. I wondered which tree grew the fabled Macedonian fruit. As I put my hand on the back door knob, I listened. I heard nothing within. If the guardians were here, they were being awfully quiet.
The door was locked. I cursed Jack Easton. Bruce produced a credit card and opened it for me. I refrained from lecturing him about it; this was not the time or place.
The worrisome thing was not my nephew’s –or my—skills at housebreaking. The worrisome thing was that we met no opposition at all as we walked into the bomb shelter and through the portal. Nervous already at leaving Zoe behind, I stepped up my pace, following the green-glowing tunnel as it slanted downward, taking curving stairs and long, long straight-aways.
But it really was only five minutes until we reached the exit onto the plain beside the River. I could feel a disturbed energy in the air; the wood behind us loomed blackly and low moans flowed around us, coming from the shadows under the trees.
The river parted quickly, even though whitecaps dotted its surface, ripples fanned out from blowing gusts. When Bruce, Pepper and I got to the other side, we stopped cold as an eerie wail sounded across the plain. Far away, on the horizon, the City lay in shadow, its brilliant colors faded and dim.
“Whoa.” Bruce looked toward the City. On the dark plain I could see Harpies wheeling, and someone running toward us, as if being pursued.
Pepper gave out a low growl. Unclicking her leash, I waited as she bounded forward. I hoped the Harpies wouldn’t feel threatened, but I wanted my own guardian between me and whatever this was. Arms folded, Bruce gazed at Pepper as she ran toward the fleeing person, circled him once, twice, and then arrowed back to me, tail wagging.
In a moment I knew why. It was Jonah, running to us. Not running away from the City or from Harpies.
“What are you doing here?” He sounded breathless. I guess ghosts in Phantom City had to breathe, or maybe they just were in the habit of it after death. “Things are very weird over here.”
“I can tell.” Shivering in my fleece jacket, I cringed as another wail, no, more than one, circled around us as if we were prey. Above us, the three beautiful Harpies floated in formation in the sky like an escort. “I have to see Dad. I took the portal route, and I don’t have much time.”
Jonah gripped his elbow. “Where’s Zoe?”
“Home. Safe, with Ivy.”
“Oh right.” Pressing his lips together, Jonah patted his pockets. “OK, we better hurry so you can get back.”
I hadn’t said anything to Jonah about Dominique’s threat against Zoe, but he seemed to know she was in danger. Without a word he motioned at the girls; they landed in puffs of delicate dust, Bruce went for Chloe, the one with the largest breasts, of course. Driselda landed for me, and I worried I would have to leave Pepper behind—she growled incessantly at the Harpies, but Jonah’s Sam swooped down and scooped her up, ignoring Pepper’s anxious barking.
The wind was bitter cold and I hunkered down in Driselda’s warm and silky feathers. Jonah yelled across to me as we winged toward the City, “I haven’t seen this, although the older ghosts tell me it’s happened before. They tell me there’s this layer of Hell where ghosts who have lost their souls end up.”
I stiffened, and listened with sinking heart, nodding at him to continue. It as difficult to hear over the wind and Pepper’s barks.
He shouted, “They call it the Ditch. Soul-less ghosts look like demons, they say, large human-like hulking forms, and some have been seen in the City.” Jonah strained toward me, almost leaning out over Sam’s wing. “They haven’t been seen in the City in millennia, they tell me. They’re not supposed to get out of the Ditch, but some have. Supposedly, if they become organized enough, find a portal, they can break into the living realms. If they do, I’m not sure what they are capable of. Ghosts around here are sure scared of them.”
One Bijou Xtra too many grabbed away, stolen by greedy Dominique Delphine to sell to clients seeking to live forever. The typical wraith who was on the irreversible road to death was not overly dangerous, but the wraiths of those whose soul had been ripped from them outright before they were anywhere close to death, I knew nothing about. Swallowing, my tongue covered with coffee-laden cotton, I looked at the ghost of my ex-husband.
“Keep tabs on them for me, OK? It’s really important.” If Jonah knew who these demon wraiths really were, he didn’t indicate it. But he nodded and shouted something I couldn’t quite make out.
But we were landing in the square outside Dad’s lab. It was filled with ghosts who backed warily away. As I climbed down from Driselda’s back and thanked her, I noticed that the ghosts around us looked as if they were camping out, sleeping bags on the ground, tents, cooking fires. Like refugees.
A cold knowledge crept up my throat. Why were they here? Why in front of Dad’s lab? Did they think he would help in the demon wraith situation?
Bruce remained on Chloe’s back. It seemed they were deep in a conversation. Walking over to him, I tugged on his shoe. Giving me a startled look, he climbed down. Chloe agreed to come back in 30 minutes to take us back to the river. They rose in a whirl of dust and breezes fragranced with roses. Bruce watched them spiral up into the sky. Pepper barked until I told her to shut up. I could have left her at home to guard Zoe, I realized, as Cerberus had made no appearance, but it was too late for that now.
The surrounding ghost encampment kept their distance. I could see more streaming in from alleys and streets as if escaping dangers close behind. The whole atmosphere of the place was nervous and unsettled. Bruce and I exchanged glances as we climbed the stairs to Dad’s lab.
He wasn’t there. As we came through the unlocked door, I knew at once that he was gone. And I had the strange sense that he wasn’t coming back.
My heart flipped violently as I feared he had taken the Bijou with him. Walking quickly, I crossed the squeaky wooden floor to the oval table. The ampules were gone.
He’d left a note on the fragile parchment paper he so liked. Expensive, hard to use with modern writing implements.
Annie, I know why you have come. But I can’t let you have any Bijou. You know what is happening here. Demon wraiths are coming for what little I have. They mistakenly think if they use Bijou they can get their lives back. But sadly they would become violent, a danger to ghost and living alike.
Damn him. I was too late. It was as if Dad knew I was coming for Bijou and ask him uncomfortable questions. I turned to Jonah. “Can you find out where he went?”
To my vast relief, Jonah nodded. “I have a few connections. And the Harpies can help.” He didn’t wait, vanished on the spot. Pepper yiked in surprise. She was pretty keyed up.
I stood a moment, wondering what to do. I knew there was no point in waiting around here for Jonah, although I didn’t want to have to come back to the City. Still, I should get back to check on Zoe and Ivy before too long.
Walking to the window, I looked down on the square, filling up with more ghosts by the second. I wondered how many more would come. Obviously they were scared of something. It was almost funny to think of ghosts being frightened of anything.
I hated waiting around with nothing to do. I tried to summon Dad, but he resisted. I knew it was a fruitless waste of energy. But I just wanted him to know how pissed off I was.
Bruce and Pepper waited patiently with me, as if for orders. That pissed me off too, because I didn’t know what to tell them. Above us, the sky flipped into negatives rapidly as if the entire Land of the Dead was unstable. I could smell dust and mold, the stuff of graves. Faces of ghosts looked up at me, as if waiting for a speech. Good god, I was a Novak, after all. But I didn’t know how to help them and my coward father had bolted with the only answers and solutions.
My fists tightened, and I dug my fingernails into my palms. What the fuck was I doing here? My place was with my daughter, whose very life was in danger. What an idiot I was!
Without waiting for Jonah to return, I ran down the steps and into the square. Ghosts watched me, turning their heads, making a path. The grass crunched icily under my feet, and a cold wind swirled around us. Bruce pulled his hood over his head.
Not knowing how to summon the Harpies, I formed the question whether they could help us get back to the river. But either my sort of summons didn’t work with Harpies or they were ignoring me or they were busy elsewhere. Silence greeted me, and above, except for the black stars in their sky of milk, there was no sign of any thing, living or dead.
“Good thing you’ve been working out, Bruce. Because we need to run.”
All this time Bruce had not questioned any of my moves since we came across. It was as if he was in total obedience mode, and there to serve my every whim. No time to wonder at it.
When I started jogging, at a good pace, Bruce kept up with me. I was not a jogger, really, but I did obsessively ride my bike across Seattle to and from work, so I was pretty fit. Pepper fell in beside us at a rapid trot, occasionally loping and barking.
It was cold. Really, really cold. I tucked my hands into my armpits for a while, then pulled my sleeves over them. I was hoping to warm up, but never did; the icy wind scorched my cheeks, my eyes watered, my ears went numb.
Why was it so cold? I wondered if it had anything to do with the rumor of the demon wraiths gathering in the Ditch, wherever that was. I didn’t want to find out, particularly.
Bruce’s breaths were coming louder and faster. He began to lag a little. I didn’t dare slow down. Meanly, I suppose, I kept my pace, and he gamely forced himself to keep up. Pepper’s tongue rolled big and red from her mouth; her ears flopped like ragged wings.
Finally we reached the bluffs, and to my great relief, and I’m sure Bruce’s too, the water was still parted.
Quickly we ran through. Moans and cries were almost palpable, pushing at us. Water spat at us as we ran past the river walls. Just as we reached the opposite bank, stumbling over rocks and scree, the river gnashed its teeth behind us, pummeled us with cold water as it rushed to fill Bruce’s gap. The screams grew louder, more virulent, urgent. Hateful.
Bruce, Pepper and I didn’t waste any time running into the wood. Safe in its borders, I saw the portal tucked blackly between two vertical granite rocks and, grabbing Bruce’s hand and Pepper’s collar, dashed through.
As soon as the portal thudded shut behind us, I knew I had made a mistake. This was not the same portal we had used coming from the old Novak bomb shelter. The smell was different, older, muskier. Familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Way too late to go back to find the other portal. This would have to do.
Silently I ran, Bruce huffing behind me, Pepper bolting ahead, then running back. We made no noise except for our breathing. All was silence, as if we had filled our ear canals with wax. I was a little breathless, and my right knee ached, but not too bad.
The tunnel wound up, down, in spirals and curving staircases, lit with the ever-present green lamps. The air here was only slightly warmer than the air of the Land of the Dead. The musty smell grew stronger, and with sinking heart I began to dread which portal we now were irrevocably using.
Glad I had Pepper with me, I slowed down as I began to recognize, I thought, where we were. Watching my dog for signs of danger, I relaxed, seeing that she was trotting purposefully ahead. Maybe we would make it out before any guardians appear.
Pepper stopped. I stumbled into her, but she stood rooted to the ground as if she had driven spikes from her feet into the earthen floor. My heart sank as I saw her hackles rise.
“Bruce,” I whispered, pushing out my arm to stop him. “Stay behind me. Don’t make any noise.”
Pepper was making enough to fill the corridor with echoing growls, which seemed to reverberate so loud I could feel them in my muscles. But after a few moments I realized I was hearing not her growls, but the growls of several other dogs. Big dogs, before us in the darkness.
Damn. The Sanatorium. Rottweilers.
My throat went dry as I knew I was about to sacrifice my dog, my long and loving companion. But I had this choice to make. Pepper would die gladly for me, and for Zoe. It was Zoe’s life I had to consider.
Kneeling beside her, I hugged her. She wouldn’t look at me, only ahead to see what only she could see. But she whined. Let me at ’em, boss. Please let me at ’em.
I did. “Go, Pepper. Get ’em.”
She raced ahead into the darkness. By the smells I knew we were very close to the doorway. I could only hope Pepper could keep the guardian dogs busy enough so that Bruce and I could slip through, and then, perhaps, I could call her off and get her safely away from the Rottweilers before she was killed.
Growls, barks, yips, scrabbling claws echoed from the shadows ahead. Tears burned into my eyes. I wanted to run in and stop it, but I knew that was foolish and likely deadly. Instead I grabbed Bruce’s arm and dashed into the dimness.
There was enough ambient light to see the whirl of fawn and black fur. Pepper shook one by the neck, the other Rottie’s jaws clamped down on Pepper’s ear, pulled, ripped, shook. I had to look away, my throat closing around the terror of it all. I could see the door to the Sanatorium basement just beyond the fighting dogs.
Bolting past the dogs, smelling blood and sweat and fur, I slammed against the door, pushed. It gave a creaky inch, then stopped.
Without me having to ask, Bruce shoved against it. A screech sounded as the metal door gouged the concrete floor beyond. He got it wide enough for us to slip through. But not before the Rottie who had Pepper by the ear saw us.
Close it! Close it! My mind screamed, but I couldn’t speak. Bruce looked at me, his eyes wide with terror, then started pushing the door. Then stopped.
Giving a big sigh, he pushed me back and shoved through the opening, back through the portal.
“Bruce No!”
Lunging through the gap, I saw Bruce kick the Rottie holding Pepper’s ear, then slam his fist hard on its head.
The dog, to my astonishment, let go of Pepper, who still was trying to kill the other Rottie. The dog faced Bruce, who was trying to grab Pepper’s collar. And then it attacked.
The big black dog sank his powerful jaws into Bruce’s left shoulder, mere inches from his carotid artery. Gasping, I burst through the door, kicked the dog, over and over. Bruce slammed his fist into its head again.
Then Pepper, leaving the other guardian bleeding on the dirt, leaped to seize the Rottie who held onto Bruce by the neck. After precious seconds that seemed like years, the guardian released Bruce, who stumbled backward into me.
The two dogs tumbled, wove, jumped. Growled. Blood spattered me and Bruce. Grabbing Bruce’s sweatshirt hood, I pulled him back into the Sanatorium basement and with strength I didn’t know I had, slammed the door shut.