“Gene,” Adam whispered. “What do we do?”
Delia smiled, showing us the same perfect teeth she’d used to win over so many hearts through the decades, hearts she’d later bleed dry. “You die.”
33
Belief
Delia beamed. Restored to her former glory, the South Beach Skeeter practically floated above the muck-covered ground. She looked us over like we were cattle for the slaughter, before pausing momentarily to pick at dirt that had settled along her perfectly manicured nails. “Who’s first?”
“Gene…” Adam backed up.
The Blood Queen turned her attention to my apprentice. “It looks like someone is volunteering. Smart choice, the first one is always the quickest. It’s the ones that come after I take my time with.”
My bearded apprentice raised his hands, but whatever Magick he had sputtered beneath Delia’s withering gaze. “Plan, Gene. We need a plan.”
Plan?
I thought about Private Petty and his saber, but in his present state, the translucent soldier was no match for Delia. To add insult to injury, I wasn’t much better. No Thinning meant no Magick, and now with the mirror exposed my Darkling would be coming, and fast. That Deep Magick would draw him out like ink from a fountain pen.
“I’m thinking,” I said, backing up along with him.
“Can you think faster?”
Kaylee would be no help. She had problems of her own. Little Ed hung in her arms like limp pasta, his head painfully twisted to the side. Tears streamed down the Swamp Witch’s face. “No, Eddie. Don’t let go. Fight it. You are more than this. I know you are.”
Her son’s eyes darted around, unfocused and confused. “Mom, where are you? It’s so cold…”
“I’m here, Eddie. I’m here.” She pulled him close. “I won’t let you go.”
Kaylee’s words hit me like a thunderbolt. They’d been my words so many months ago. Visions of Cathy filled my mind, and with them came the screams of her final seconds clinging to the Hellgate—it brought me to my knees.
I let her go…
“I won’t let you go.” Kaylee’s words tore at my heart strings.
No one’s letting go again.
Her shattered staff laid only a few feet away, Wild Magick ebbing out of it only to be absorbed into the ground.
The ground… Sturkey… This whole place is sacred, but why?
Kaylee’s son jerked violently.
“Eddie.” Tears streamed down the Swamp Witch’s cheeks. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. From the very moment you came into my life. You’re real to me—you will always be real to me.”
“Mom…” Little Ed’s voice was fading fast, his eyes aimless and confused.
The staff. It’s all in the staff.
“Keep her busy,” I said to Adam, crawling over to the broken staff.
My apprentice raised his hands, Magick sputtering between his fingers. “Uh… Format… No… Select from…”
With the Blood Queen otherwise pre-occupied, I scooped up the staff. Its splintered wood oozed Magick, a Deep Magick from somewhere far beneath the ground. I tried to reach for it, to draw from that ebbing fountain, but it was too organic and complex. The Swamp Witch had tapped a rich vein of Old Florida, far beyond anything my brute-force skill could comprehend—this was Magick from a forgotten age.
I’d love to have studied it further, but I didn’t have the time. Delia’s lip rippled as if something squirmed beneath it. The Skeeter was returning to her true form. “I’ve had nothing but rats and possums for so long,” she said, her mouth opening to reveal sharp fangs. “I wonder if I’ll even remember what good blood tastes like.”
Adam backed away, keeping his hands up and trying desperately to get his Magick going. “I eat really terrible…”
“What a coincidence.” Delia’s sharp teeth glistened in the half-light of dusk. “So do I.”
I wrapped my hand around the end of the broken staff, reaching for the ebbing Magick again, clawing at it with my mental fingers.
Please, just please!
“Dad?”
I froze at the sound of my daughter’s voice whispering deep inside my head.
Catherine!
“I can’t see you,” she said, her words fading against the sound of crashing waves. “Where are you? There’s so much pain.”
I tightened my grip on the broken wood.
I’m here, sweetheart. I’m right here.
“Where am I?”
How could I tell her? How could I tell her I let her go?
You are with me now.
Cathy’s voice hesitated for a second before responding. “Dad, there’s so much pain. I can’t…”
I’m here.
“It’s dark and wet. It’s hard to stay above the waves. I can’t see anything, but I can feel her pain. It’s too much—please make it stop. She’s losing her son.”
I can’t, Cathy. I’ve lost my Magick. I’ve lost you. I’ve lost everything else that’s ever mattered. I’m a broken man, and a ruined father. I have nothing left.
“No, you are forgetting what you taught me.”
What?
My daughter’s voice broke above the mental sounds of crashing surf. “You said Magick is about belief.”
I was wrong. I was wrong about so many things.
“No, you weren’t.”
A surge of Magick roared through the staff, erupting from the ground like a great, invisible geyser.
It’s not possible.
A green shoot tore free from the end of that broken staff. Fresh growth surged where only dead wood had been before. The sapling branched and merged, twisting in on itself and becoming stronger than steel. The staff was made anew, and like the trunk of some ancient tree, its Magick swelled from the bowels of Old Florida.
Catherine?
“Magick isn’t about belief,” my daughter said, her words strong and resilient. “It is belief…”
How did you—
“I believe in you.” Cathy’s voice faded. “Find me.”
Catherine!
“Eddie,” Kaylee cried, breaking me from my trance. She held her son as a dying breath escaped his lips.
“Kaylee,” I shouted. “For you!”
The Swamp Witch looked up in time to catch the vibrant green staff in her hands. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either. Save your son and let’s put an end to the Blood Queen. As far as I’m concerned, Florida only has enough room for one Magickal badass woman, and I’m putting all my chips on green.”
The Swamp Witch smiled and her bloodshot eyes told me more than words ever could. The braided green staff pulsed in her hand, drawing with it Magick from the heart of the swamp.
That was when it dawned on me. Sturkey wasn’t just some old mining town, or ruins lost deep in the heart of the state. It was something far more. Sturkey sat at the heart of Old Florida. It wasn’t sacred because it had Deep Magick. It was sacred because it was Deep Magick.
Delia had Adam on the ground, her long fingers wrapped around his head and her tongue lapping at the blood spreading across his neck.
Adam!
“Hey!” I shouted, picking up the other half of the broken staff. “You want to settle this, bitch? Let’s do it.”
Okay, Cathy. Here comes that belief! Whip me up a staff.
The Skeeter wiped a sleeve over her quivering jaws. Blood dribbled down her chin and stained a swelling chest. “If you insist.”
Now, Cathy!
I held the other half of Kaylee’s broken staff up, waiting for my daughter to work that Old Florida Deep Magick into a Delia-ending beat-stick.
Cathy?
I got my Magickal blast all right, but it didn’t come from Cathy. It came from the Blood Queen, a very much revitalized and powerful Blood Queen. Delia’s Magick launched me from my feet and sent me crashing into a nearby trunk. My head slammed into the rough bark, knocking the useless stick from my hand before dropping me on the muddy gr
ound.
“Eugene Law.” Delia crossed the muck like a runway model, her perfect hips swaying gracefully. “This is going to be so good. I think I might savor this and keep you alive for a while. Wouldn’t you like that? We could start a new swarm, and you could be my first. How do you feel about that?” She ran a finger along my chest, absently tracing parts of a horrifyingly twisted sigil. “Being first has its privileges…”
Cathy, help me!
I listened for my daughter’s voice. Anything that would tell me she was there, and that I wasn’t alone, but I received no response.
Delia pulled me to my feet and pushed me against the tree, then pinned me to it with an unnatural strength. The sides of her jacket fluttered, and something moved beneath them, pressing against the fabric like expanding ribs.
“How would you like that? To be with me—forever.” Delia’s mouth opened wide, impossibly so, with new rows of sharp and angry teeth shining in the fading light.
“Not interested…” I said, squirming beneath the woman’s mesmerizing gaze. Her eyes were like rich pools of molten chocolate, and they devoured my senses. I couldn’t look away, no matter how much I wanted to. My arms went limp, along with my legs. The Blood Queen smiled, the hint of a whipping tongue sprouting from the back of her mouth.
Is this the end?
I saw myself reflected in those dark eyes—myself, and something from the stucco family.
“Delia…” I whispered, fighting to find my voice.
“Yes?”
“Duck.”
Her jaws hesitated. “Wha—”
Stinkstone’s fist roared past my pinned head at a speed I didn’t think Bridge Trolls possessed. That five-fingered wrecking ball smashed into Delia’s perfect face and sent the two of us careening into the muck.
Note to self. Bridge Trolls pack a wallop.
34
Mud Blood
I was in the muck again—how many times was this now?
I’d lost count, but at least this most recent visit had come with the righteous pleasure of knowing Delia was right there with me.
I rolled over and wiped the stinking black silt from my face. Air was in short supply, and I struggled to coax what I could back in my lungs. Sadly, the sight of my apprentice knocked all that hard-earned air right back out of again.
Adam!
The bearded one was a few yards away, his hoodie a mess of bright red blood.
No, no, no!
“Adam!” I shouted, willing myself up and dragging my bruised body toward him. “Please be okay.”
“Gene?” His voice was weak, but not gone completely.
I fell to my knees at the kid’s bloody neck. “Don’t move. Let me get a look at you.”
Adam’s flesh laid like organic confetti, bright red and ground up almost beyond recognition. It took everything I had to keep my stomach’s churning contents in place.
“I don’t feel so good.” Adam eyes slipped in and out of focus.
I tore off my mud-covered shirt and wrapped whatever clean side I could find into a ball around my hand, then pushed the entire apparatus against his neck. “Oh, no you don’t. You need that life juice to stay right where it is.”
Color drained from his face. “Gene, I’m sorry.”
“Nope. There are no death’s door speeches here, damn it.” I blinked at the tears in the corner of my eyes.
“No,” he said, coughing up blood. “I’m sorry.”
“Not listening. You’ll have plenty of time to wallow in your stupidity later. Now, you need to hold still.”
“No.” His coughing dislodged the bloody shirt. “Listen to me. I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I don’t really know what it’s like to grow up with a dad, but if I’d had one, I’d have wanted him to be just like you.”
My stomach dropped and burning tears stung at my eyes. “Would you stop talking, damn it? You’re just giving me ammo for later.”
“Sorry…” My apprentice’s arms went limp.
“Adam?!”
Crash!
Stinkstone had brought friends. I counted at least three mobile mountains, but while they were giant, they weren’t prepared for the Blood Queen. Delia had a few hundred years of experience and knew exactly how to use each one of them.
Her oversized jaws left dark blue gashes on their legs and arms, and with each drop of blood that found its way to her lips she grew more powerful.
“Kaylee,” I cried. “Adam’s dying. Help me!”
Little Ed lay across his mother’s knees, his color slowly returning. The staff’s Magick was doing exactly what its wielder wanted: restoring the young golem’s broken body. The Swamp Witch was lost in the trance of Deep Magick and she didn’t hear me.
Damn it!
“Gene?”
“Adam?” I turned back to find my apprentice laying still, his life’s blood ebbing away beneath my hands.
“Uh, yeah?” A pleasantly round and ghostly form crouched next to me. “Wow, I really need to start working out.”
I started to reach for the ghost’s translucent hoodie, but thought better of it. “Son of a bitch. No, no, no, you need to get back in your body this instant. You are not dying on my watch.”
Adam’s ghost held up a hand in front of his face and waved it a few times like a recreational drug user from the sixties. “Whoa, I’m dead?”
“Damn it,” I said, pressing down harder on the young man’s bleeding neck. “No. Are you listening to me? You don’t get to die, you ever-present pain in my ass.”
“I don’t think you have a choice, sir.”
A tired and limping Private Petty stumbled into view. His hands clutched at a wound in his side.
“You know something? I’ve had just about enough of spirits telling me what I can and cannot do. You hear me?”
“Cool sword,” ghostly Adam said, standing up to point at the young private’s saber. “Is it real?”
“Yep.”
“Sweet.”
A Bridge Troll bashed a hole in a tree not far behind us, sending a burst of wood splinters into the air but still missing Delia by a country-mile.
“If you guys could stop the girl-talk long enough to help me figure out how to keep this one’s cholesterol stream in his pudgy little body that would be really great.”
Adam rolled his ghostly eyes. “I could go without the fat-shaming. I told you, I’m going to start using that YMCA membership I got from work.”
“No, you won’t.” I let up on my pressure enough to hunt for a pulse. “If you don’t get back in your body right this minute you are going to completely screwed like Private Petty.”
The young spirit tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“God damn it. I lied, okay? Nothing I told you was true. I don’t have any secret tricks or amazing Magick to get you back to your family.”
Petty took a hesitant step back, shaking his head. “But…”
“You’re dead, Private. I destroyed your Death Spot. I’ve made it impossible for you to get back to your wife and daughter.”
“I don’t understand,” the spirit shook his head.
I found Adam’s pulse, it was weak, but not gone entirely. “What’s to understand, Private? I used you. I’m a terrible person. I used you to save my butt too many times to count. There is no plan to get you to Heaven. There never was. I’m just a man, and a broken one at that. I can’t help you, and I never could.”
“Gene…” Adam’s voice fell to a whisper. “You’re not that kind of person.”
“Don’t you guys get it?” I placed my hands on Adam’s chest and starting compressions. “I’m not the guy you thought I was. I signed the deal with the House. No one held a gun to my head—free will. I walked up those steps of my own choosing. You know why? I’ll tell you why. Maybe deep down I actually enjoy it. You ever thought of that?”
“You don’t mean it…” my apprentice said, but he didn’t appear to actually believe the words he was saying.
“I thin
k he does.” Private Petty’s face fell as he faded away.
Delia appeared behind Adam, launching herself onto the back of one of the Bridge Trolls, and latching onto its thick neck with her ever-widening jaws. The sides of her tracksuit swelled with an undulating motion. She was returning to her true form, and God help us when she did.
“You know what,” I let go of Adam’s chest, “if you want to die so badly, then do it. I’m done caring. Hell, I’m no match for Delia, none of us are. Even with Kaylee’s new beatstick the Skeeter is too powerful. So, it’s best if you just died now. It’ll cut down on the traffic. Get your ride and move on. I’m pretty damn certain I’m headed the other way, so don’t worry about making room for me. It’s been nice knowing you.”
“Wait,” ghostly Adam said, realization slowly dawning on his face. “Gene, are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“We can’t stop her?”
I shook my head. “No, we can’t. The last time we tangled it took everything I had—and more than a little luck. Look at me.” I held up my blood-soaked hands. “What am I?”
“You’re Eugene Law.”
“No. I’m broken, that’s what I am.”
Delia swelled like a blooming flower from the mess of fallen Bridge Troll, her chest stained with the bright hues of blue blood.
“Gene, what about the compact?”
“What about it? She took the damn thing apart.”
“But the mirror, the mirror isn’t broken?”
Adam pointed to the compact mirror lying face down in the mud, black on brown, it almost vanished in the fading light.
“You think we can trick her into looking into the mirror now? Yeah, listen, that scam only works once—and it barely even worked that time.”
Ghostly Adam zipped his translucent hoodie and pushed up its oversized sleeves. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Oh yeah, what?”
Beaten Path Page 19