“Or we could just call them on the phone,” Edie mumbled, pointing to the little leather book.
Astrid looked vaguely puzzled for a second before she smirked and shook her head. “I doubt most of the beings in these pages have much use for phones. It’s less a phone book and more like a … roster.”
So, she kept documentation on all the supernatural things she came in contact with. Edie supposed that was probably smart, if she wanted to keep track of who was willing to work with the Reach and who wasn’t, but keeping it in a journal seemed dangerous. Maybe they should go digital.
Astrid laid the book out on the little wooden table by the window and continued to flip through it, eventually slowing as she came to a page toward the back.
As she lingered over the names on the page, Edie asked, “So, how are we supposed to scry … on them?” Was that the right preposition? In any case, she now had an image of Astrid rubbing a crystal ball.
“I will need time to work through the journal to find someone suitable. But … scrying may turn someone up quicker. Simply seeing if we can divine who our next ally is or where we can find them.”
Satara glanced at Astrid before rising from where she sat in front of the fireplace. She spread ashes over the fire, dousing it. “I’ll go fetch the basin.”
“Thank you, dear.” Her battlemother didn’t look up from her book, scanning the names with a finger.
Satara left them alone, and Edie was suddenly reminded of how angry she’d made Astrid earlier. The valkyrie seemed calm and focused now, but who knew? Maybe she was just waiting for them to be alone so she could throw her across the room like she’d done to Marius.
It seemed like everyone around her was capable of killing her whenever they felt like it.
Make some conversation before you die of awkward silence first. Edie took a breath and held it before asking, “Did Satara tell you about the, um, fish … uh, vættr we met up with?”
Astrid barely glanced up. “She did. If he wants to help our cause, so be it; he may stay, as long as he keeps out of sight.”
“Right. But I don’t really have anywhere to put—” Edie cut herself off and sighed. She got the feeling Astrid didn’t really care what she did with him, as long as she didn’t have to deal with it. She’d figure something out.
In the meantime, there was something more pressing she needed to ask Astrid about: the Reacher.
She came to sit in the chair across from Astrid. Considering her wording carefully, she began, “Why didn’t you tell me you were looking at me to be the Reacher?”
The valkyrie finally looked up, lowering her book for a moment. She tilted her head. “You’re your father’s daughter. I was always sure you would have his spirit, and that you would be ready to lead when you came to me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not.” Edie clenched her jaw. “You didn’t even ask me. There’s no one in the world better suited to this than me? What about you? Or Satara?”
Astrid paused a moment, like she had never considered the possibility, then she brushed it off and shrugged. “I have no desire to lead the Reach. I’ve done so in an unofficial capacity for years, but I am a warrior, and so is Satara. We have other obligations.”
“I—” Edie wiped the air in front of her with her hand. “So what I want doesn’t factor in at all?”
With a heavy sigh, Astrid said, “We’ll see.”
Edie clenched her fist. The unyielding angles of the wooden statue she still held bit into her palm, and she remembered she’d brought it with her. Deciding to drop the subject for now—the next shouting match might get her killed—she set the little figurine on the table in front of them. “What’s this?”
The valkyrie went back to her journal. “A statue.”
“Is there anything special about this one?”
Clearly annoyed by Edie’s persistence, she raised her head. But this time, she considered the figurine a little more carefully. “I doubt she’s anyone in particular. A representation of a lesser Norn, I think.”
“There’s this design on the bottom….”
Astrid went back to her journal again. “A matrix of criss-crossing lines?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s called the Web of Wyrd. The nine-staved net of fate as woven by the Norns. It symbolizes the interweaving of timelines; all our past, present, and future actions are connected, and they determine the color and shape of the tapestry we keep.” Her frown deepened thoughtfully, and she looked up at Edie. “What made you pick that up?”
“She was, uh … watching me.” She felt like an idiot saying it out loud, so she followed up quickly with, “Why doesn’t she have a face?”
Astrid’s brow creased. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by Satara, who reentered with an armful of things: a stone bowl of some sort, a bunch of candles, and a silver jug all stacked together. The valkyrie stood from where she was sitting to go help her, leaving Edie alone with the little wooden Norn.
With a sigh, Edie reached out and turned the Norn over, still wondering why she didn’t have a—
Holy shit, she has a face. A pretty woman’s visage stared back at her now, carved in intricate detail just like the rest of the statue was. Her expression was neutral, calm; nothing scary, but Edie felt fear lance through her heart.
Someone had been watching her, hadn’t they?
Chapter Twenty-Five
“So, what do we do first?”
The three women sat in a circle around the stone basin. Astrid had told Satara and Edie to draw the curtains, and now most of the light in the room was blotted out, replaced only by weak, flickering candlelight. Satara held the silver jug between her knees, watching her battlemother.
“Now, we pour the ewer, and then we can begin scrying.”
With a nod, Satara shifted and slowly poured the water into the basin. Astrid closed her eyes and began to whisper something under her breath.
Suddenly, it felt like their little circle of candlelight was the only safe thing in the room—like if Edie stepped out of its bounds, she’d fall off the edge of the world and into … something else. Whatever was waiting for them beyond the veil of reality. Veil was a good word for it; like a curtain not only dividing two sides of a room, but protecting one side from seeing what lay on the other. And Astrid had just waved it away like it was a pesky spider web.
The way the basin’s contents glittered in the low light made Edie shiver. Sitting together in a dark room and staring at a bowl of water hadn’t sounded this creepy when Astrid had explained it, but now she could feel a strange energy filling the room, almost like a living thing. It was like the darkness around them was the body of a giant snake, coiled around them and slowly, slowly tightening around their little circle.
“Just look into the water,” Satara whispered, touching Edie. “Look for a vision of someone who might help us.”
Edie took a deep breath and nodded, trying to ignore everything around her and just focus on the way the flames danced in the water.
Astrid’s chanting slowly died off. Now, the three of them just stared in silence.
It stretched for a few minutes, long enough that Edie was about to ask what was supposed to happen when she saw something. She thought she caught something in the water, just a flash of movement.
It could have just been the flames, a trick of the eyes. But when she closed her mouth and watched more closely, it happened again—and again, until it was no longer just flashes riding the water’s tremulous surface but a full picture. She was looking into another place: a room, dark but not as dark as this one, with shadows moving back and forth.
Her human instinct told her to call out and tell the other two she had seen something, but another, stronger instinct—belonging to some faraway experience only her DNA remembered—told her to keep quiet and watch and listen if she wanted to learn more.
Ugh. Her head was killing her. That nausea she had felt before seemed to resurge, a tickle threatening the ba
ck of her throat. Her cheeks felt warm—
Edie pulled back from the basin, resting her forehead in one hand. Her fingers were hot, too. Am I having a panic attack? Was it possible that scrying had triggered this? Sure, the experience was uncomfortable, even anxiety-inducing, but this—
Another, more intense wave of nausea washed over her, and she stood up, desperate to find the door. The room instantly felt brighter, the coil of darkness gone.
Astrid and Satara were … speaking, she thought, asking her why she’d broken the circle, but their voices seemed so far away. Another noise, unrecognizable at first but quickly becoming clearer, was drowning them out. It wasn’t even a noise, really. More like thoughts. Loud, intrusive thoughts, too jumbled to pick any one message out.
Thoughts that weren’t her own.
She took a couple steps back and sat in one of the old wooden chairs, trying to cool her forehead with the back of her hand.
“Was it too much?” someone was asking. “Did you see something?”
No. No, she’d just seen … she’d just seen a room. This was … something else. This wasn’t because of the scrying; it had only interrupted the scrying. This was—
Cal.
She stood up so quickly that the chair scraped across the rough-cut floor and hit the radiator behind it.
“Are you all right?” Satara gave her a once-over. “You’re pale. Well … paler than usual.”
Edie whipped off her leather jacket and unzipped the hoodie layered underneath it. The room was suddenly boiling hot. “I—” Words didn’t come easy. The thoughts were so loud and so panicked, like a pack of animals straining against their leashes, biting and bumping into one another.
Astrid’s expression turned to one of distress, blue eyes bright. “It’s Calcifer, isn’t it?”
For a second, Edie thought she’d just have to nod silently. But she surprised herself, croaking, “Yeah.”
Cal had told her they had a link, but until now, it had been mostly one-sided. Just like he’d said, he was practiced at nailing his brain shut in such a way that she probably couldn’t breach it even if she tried. But something had got his guard down. Fear and confusion railroaded down their connection and into her brain.
There was no doubt about it: wherever Cal was, he was in deep trouble.
The first thing Edie noticed when they stepped out of Harbinger Trinket and Tome was that the sky was black; no sign of a sunset, not even dusky twilit clouds. She turned when Satara exited the shop after her, her voice on the edge of panic as she asked, “What happened? What time is it?”
The shieldmaiden sighed and glanced up at the sky. “It must have been the scrying. Sometimes it distorts time. What feels like minutes might be … hours.”
Shit. Edie whipped her phone out of her jacket pocket and gaped at the time: nearly 11 p.m. Now they were dealing with a supernatural timecrunch in addition to the urgent pinging she was feeling off Cal.
“Let’s check the club first. If he’s still there and there’s trouble….” She trailed off and looked to Satara, who had already blown her little dog whistle.
The creepy, pungent red haze appeared again and birthed the bloodied gray wolf, and Edie groaned at the prospect of having to ride it after last time. She was starting to regret separating herself from Cal. At least he knew how to drive, which was more than she could say for herself or Satara—she assumed.
How the hell was she supposed to become a leader if she almost barfed every time she had to ride this furry Tilt-A-Whirl?
At Nocturnem, Ghost was nowhere to be seen.
Edie steadied herself against the wolf’s flank and looked up and down the street, peered into the nearby alley, but there was no sign of the muscle car. Had Cal left in the middle of watching Mercy? It wasn’t like watching her involved anything beyond sitting there and drinking, which sounded like it suited his talents just fine.
“Where the fuck is he?” Her voice was raw and sounded foreign to her ears.
Satara stood closer to the curb, dressed like she’d just walked off the set of Spartacus. It wasn’t quite Nocturnem’s aesthetic, and Edie wasn’t sure how people would react, but she waved her closer anyway.
“I work here. I’ll be able to ask people if they saw where he went.”
“You work here?” The shieldmaiden looked at her, skeptical at best, judging at worst. She peered down the dark stairway, and the multicolored lights highlighting the doorway glinted off her copper gorget.
Edie started down the stairs, mouth dry, breath already coming shallowly. Please, god, don’t have a panic attack. He’s going to be there, he’s going to be fine. The thumping bass emanating from the club calmed her somewhat, at least; it was familiar, grounding. At least she knew how to move through this place, and Satara didn’t. For the past couple days, it had been the opposite.
“Come on,” she urged Satara, her voice gentler now, already on the first landing of the switchback staircase.
Her companion lingered. For a moment, Edie thought she might turn around and run all the way back to Shipshaven. But then she drew herself up and began to creep down the stairs.
Edie usually had to put all her weight behind opening the heavy metal door that led to the club’s vestibule, but with adrenaline thundering through her veins, she wrenched it open like it was plywood.
The club was full of people, crowding around the bar, sitting at or milling between tables, sandwiched together on the dance floor. The lights were low and spotlights of red and blue swung around the room, coruscating and clashing with the twinkling bottles behind the bar. There was a girl on stage with a full head of cyberlox and a gasmask, working a glittery black DJ booth.
“Where’s Mercy?” Edie mumbled to herself. She was still supposed to be working, and unlike Edie, Mercy only performed—no waitressing or bartending.
As she came up to Edie, Satara was hunched, like she was bracing against a forceful wind. “What! Is it always so loud? I can’t hear you!”
Edie pulled the shieldmaiden closer and spoke right in her ear. “Mercy is supposed to still be performing!”
Satara pulled back and looked at her with worried eyes. “Is she taking a break?”
That was probably it. That had to be it. The only other alternative was that she had left, and if she’d gone and Cal had followed, they might both be in trouble. Edie tried not to entertain that possibility. Best to take things one life-shattering meltdown at a time.
“Okay.” Edie loosed a puff of breath, eyes flying around the darkened room. “Okay, okay. I just need to find someone who saw where they went.” Scarlet, maybe? Someone she knew had to be around.
“Edie!” came a voice from the bar. It sounded kind of surprised, kind of relieved, and kind of nervous.
“Klein?” She found the edge of the bar and gripped it as the bartender made their way over to her.
Klein was practically bouncing on their feet, looking full to the brim with anxiety, but they still showed an easy smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Business or pleasure?”
“Neither,” Edie mumbled, taking another glance around the bar. Could Cal or Mercy, by some total miracle, be in one of these alcoves? Empty-handed, she turned back to Klein and asked, “How’s it going?”
“Well … not slow, as you can see, but not too crazy either.” They tilted their head, looking Satara over slowly, then returning their gaze to Edie. “Why?”
“It’s just— you haven’t seen anything weird? No fights, or…?” She couldn’t imagine Cal picking a fight and losing, but she could still feel the dull throb of panic coming down their connection.
Klein frowned, dark brows furrowed, and shook their head.
“I’m gonna go backstage and find Mercy.” Edie pushed off the bar and started toward the employees-only area. The main priority had to be making sure she didn’t go home and discover the fish man in their bathtub.
“Edie! Where are you going?” Klein had trotted to the end of the bar, meeting her
as she rounded it. “Mercy isn’t here.”
“Wh— I thought she was working?”
“She had to run early.”
Great! “Did she say where she was going?”
Again, Klein looked from Edie to Satara, whose expression twisted as she braved every new inch of the club. The bartender looked nervous, suddenly, wringing their half-apron between their pale hands. “Um, she said she felt sick. She was going home.”
”What?” A swell of panic raced up the back of Edie’s neck. Cal was supposed to be watching her, making sure this exact thing didn’t happen.
”Maybe it’s not too late to stop her,” Satara called over the music.
Edie looked Klein dead in the eye. “When did she leave?”
”Um … I don’t know, like, maybe a half hour ago?”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
Satara was flying out the door and up the stairs in a matter of seconds, Edie close at her heels. Cal might be in danger, but Mercy was about to walk into their apartment and find the Creature from the Black Lagoon in the bathtub.
The cold night wind cut her face, and Astrid’s words chased her: Don’t tell a soul.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The sound of police sirens and traffic in the distance drifted through the night with the early summer breeze, their wails making Mercy shiver. The world had been too silent for the past week, like a heavy cloud of gloom hung over her and Edie’s apartment. The sounds of the city were welcome, comforting in a way she had never fully appreciated until recently.
She supposed anything familiar would be. Her whole world had been turned upside down since Edie had started acting weird: out at all hours, bringing strangers home, mysteriously killing both of their pets…. She was obviously hiding something huge, and it was scary. Maybe losing her job at the garage had really affected her somehow, although Mercy couldn’t imagine why. She could find another one easy enough.
Mercy just wished things would go back to how they had been last week, when everything had been normal. She wanted to go back to a time when she could trust her best friend.
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