by E M Lacey
The sigils looked like they were meant to be painful when they were carved into the flesh.
“I’m sure you saw the face of the person who did that.” Pyra pointed at Evangeline’s ruined arms.
“I did not.”
“How is that possible?” Pyra’s disbelieving glare pinned Evangeline. “Who wouldn’t notice that!”
“Someone who was drugged, then bound by an immobilizing spell.”
Pyra opened her mouth to retort, but closed it.
“May 21, 1990, I went missing. It’s documented. You can look up the police report and check the old newspaper articles. If you pay attention to history and even present day, there will be a rash of abductions. Always small children, teenagers, or women. Sometimes men are abducted, but only the weak and vulnerable. Usually the homeless or the mentally challenged.”
“Why?” Sunni pressed.
“I was the age I appear; ten. I was at a park with my sister. She went to get us ice cream from the ice cream truck. I stayed behind, so we wouldn’t lose our place on the swing. A man snatched me. He stuck me with a needle and all I remember is darkness.” Though she was dead, Evangeline’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she recalled her abduction. “When I woke up, I was in a room with only one window and it was really high, almost touched the ceiling. I was strapped to a stone table. The man who did this.” She pointed at her arms. “He didn’t start on the outside. He doesn’t have to be present to make this happen.”
“What do you mean?” Pyra leaned forward.
Evangeline stiffened her hand, set it in the middle of her chest, nails first, then drew it downward. The ectoplasmic skin split. Once she felt the opening had enough length, she peeled it back. The interior lining of the skin was covered in sigils, all ancient and very specific.
“He did this while I was dying,” Evangeline said plainly. “His magic blurred his features whenever he was in my line of sight. I’ve asked others and they say it was the same for them.”
Aurora covered her mouth.
“That’s what you mean by Indentured.” Sunni’s voice was hollow.
Evangeline nodded. “I have no choice.”
“You’re like a golem.” Pyra’s mouth and eyes stretched wide as realization hit.
Evangeline nodded again. A flash of insight spread across her face. “There is another golem.”
“In the box?”
Evangeline shook her head slowly. “No. This one was allowed to live.”
“What?”
“This one volunteered for the ritual.”
Silence filled the space.
“Why can Aurora command the Indentured if she didn’t create you?”
“Blood calls blood.”
Sunni waggled her finger between Evangeline and Aurora. “You and her, I understand, but the others?”
“Blood calls to blood.”
“Did this crazy man slaughter your family?” Horrified, Pyra curled her hands into tight fists, which she pressed against her stomach.
“No. It’s her talent. All the Dixon women are born with sensitivity. Sensitivity to the Nether is Aurora’s. No other Dixon has it.”
“How so?” Sunni asked.
“Our line defends against bad magic but we have no magic of our own.” Evangeline scanned the floor around her feet. Searching for something. When she raised her head, a satisfied grin owned her face. “We are conduits. We channel the knowledge of our ancestors. Sometimes an ancestor can stand in our body and speak through us. It hardly ever happens anymore but they can.”
“Why is that?” Pyra’s head tilted right, brows drawn in a tight V.
“Her father.” Evangeline rocked on her heels.
Sunni turned an expectant gaze on Aurora. “Who’s that?”
Aurora shrugged. “My mom doesn’t remember him.”
“Oh, come on!” Pyra threw up her hands. “Someone in the family has to remember him.”
“Aurora is the last of the Dixon line.”
Pyra shut up.
“Anyone who has ever laid eyes on him cannot remember his name or face.”
“You’re dead. How could you know so much about a time beyond your living days?” Pyra pressed her palms against her knees, fingers digging into her flesh.
“I’m dead, yes, but all the dead pass through the Nether to get to their final place. I saw my sister, grandmother, and aunts that way. I learned about the family. It’s how I know about Aurora.”
“No one can do that.”
Evangeline started to explain but was cut off by Sunni, who tapped her staff with the tips of her fingers, creating a soothing melodic ringing.
“There seems to be more and more questions when it comes to you, Ms. Dixon.” Sunni extended her hand in a flourish in Aurora’s direction. “We do not have the blessing of time, nor is this the proper setting for an in-depth interview.” She fixed Pyra with a look, before returning her focus on the girl, the ghost, and the box.
“Okay, I guess that line of questioning is done,” Sunni said, then looked over her shoulder at Montague, who was writing furiously. “Do you have any questions, Mr. Myer?”
“Do any of the others know the exact date and place of their abduction?”
“I think so.” Evangeline played with the shingles on her shorts.
“If you could get that information, that might help us put a face on your abductor.”
“I can do that.” She looked up. The crease between her brows smoothed. “I will get the information and send it through Aurora.”
Sunni and Pyra looked sideways at the tiny spirit. “How will you do that?”
“She can call me and check to see if I have the information. Whatever I have learned when she calls, I will tell her.”
“So, you can’t lie to Aurora.”
“None of us can.”
“Hmm.” Sunni studied Evangeline, who, despite the hateful markings and dated clothing, resembled a living child as she fidgeted under her scrutiny. “Can you think of any more questions, Mr. Myer?”
“I have no more questions.”
“Okay,” Sunni continued, jerking her chin in the direction of the box. “Now for the box.”
“What about the box?” Evangeline got up and went over to it.
“I need to see how much influence Aurora has on it and its contents.”
“No!”
A metallic vibration resounded. Sunni’s staff was out of her lap, in her hand, and firmly planted on the floor. “Calm yourself, spirit.”
“I will not.” Evangeline squared her thin shoulders, repositioning herself to stand in front of Aurora.
“We mean her no harm.” Sunni did her best to be less intimidating which was hard for a woman of her stature. Wearing full battle gear seemed like a good idea when she headed for the office, but it was no comfort to those unfamiliar with the Sisters of the Immortalem. Theirs was a life of service to the weak, shields for the cause, and teachers to those who wished to learn.
“Leave the box alone.” Evangeline put her foot on top of the spirit box then placed her hand on her chest. “I can come to her.” She aimed a finger at the box. “They can come to her if she needs them. There are too many unknowns. She is the last of my family. I will not risk her.”
“It’s a spirit box.” Pyra waved her hand at it. “She’s alive. It can’t hurt her.”
“Yes, but she is tied to the Nether somehow. I don’t know how, but as long as my master controls the box, I can’t risk your curiosity putting her in jeopardy.”
“I see.” Sunni had another research project for Bridgette. Research the Dixon lineage.
“It’s best for her not to touch the box when she is seeking the Indentured.” Evangeline moved to Aurora’s side. She lay a hand on her shoulder.
“Do I have to bleed?” Aurora inquired of her aunt.
Evangeline nodded. “Yes. Blood calls blood.”
“I don’t get it.” Aurora removed the box from her lap and scooted away from it.
�
��You don’t have to understand, just know that you don’t need to fear the box. Besides, it’s in stasis.”
“Huh?” Aurora reached out to touch her aunt, only for her hands to pass through her.
Evangeline giggled. “We have carried out our task, so the others will literally stand in whatever spot they’re in and wait for the next command.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Indeed, it does, but what choice do the dead have?” The weight of her existence settled on her face.
“You should have better than that.” Aurora beat her fist over her heart. “It’s not right.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I do have a question for you, Evangeline.” Pyra squared her shoulders, holding the spell securely.
“Ask.”
“How were the Indentured able to turn Enoch into the equivalent of shark chum and make all the claw marks on the walls?”
“We get hungry when we’re outside the box. We can bite and claw. We feed from the terror of our victims. It dulls the pain.” She waved her hands up and down her small body. “There are those who are broken among us.”
“Broken?”
“Yes, it’s what we call the ones who were weak or already mentally broken when they were created. There are also some who simply enjoyed murder. The more twisted among us change. They become something akin to demons.” She looked back at the box. “They’re still inside. They don’t look human anymore. They’re Broken.”
“Almost demons?”
“What twists their insides works its way to their outside.” Evangeline made a twisting motion over her belly. “Being non-corporal, their beliefs make them what they are.”
“Are you going to attack the office again?” Montague tossed out.
“No, sir. There will be no further trashing of your office.”
“Good.” Montague returned to his notes.
“There is something darker on the horizon.”
Montague dropped his notes, rose carefully from his makeshift chair, and joined the others at the edge of the pentagram.
“What kind of trouble?”
“Secrets are about to implode.” Evangeline faded away. The eyes at the tips of the pentagram closed and reabsorbed into the chalk. The lighted lines returned to standard sidewalk chalk and Aurora was alone.
“Call her back!” Montague began to step into the circle. Sunni grabbed his leg.
“Mr. Myer, this is not the time for emotions. We need reason more than anything now.”
“Well, what is our next step?” Montague stomped back over to his abandoned chair and retrieved his notes. He chose to lean against the wall rather than sit in his chair. It didn’t look like it would hold.
“We need to do our due diligence and look into the kidnappings. Pyra and myself need to get this office magically locked down so this doesn’t happen again.” Sunni dropped her magic, swung her staff upright, and used it to get to her feet. “We also need to keep Aurora, Evangeline, and what we have learned a secret.”
She looked to each person in the room. They all nodded.
“What about me?” Aurora directed her question to Montague.
“Your job, Ms. Dixon, is to complete the project I assigned to you.” Aurora smiled, relieved that she still had a job.
Aurora got to her feet as Montague led the way out of his office. Sunni followed. Pyra lingered behind, performing a wide wiping motion over her end of the pentagram. The chalk blew away, in fine plumes of dust and smoke. She examined the spot after the last eye, the one on the southern end, vanished. Satisfied, she motioned for Aurora to follow her out. Once they were outside the office, Pyra drew new warding in the doorway between Thurgood’s and Montague’s offices.
“Alright. Let’s get to work.”
Both women passed through Thurgood’s office and worked their way back to the safe room.
Chapter Fourteen
Abigail couldn’t help but grin when their journey ended outside a white picket fence. The cobblestone sidewalk stretched several feet beyond the fence, ending at a large door fashioned out of cherry wood, which complemented the pale brick exterior. Large windows looking more like thick crystal than glass was on every side of the cottage. A red chimney punctuated the right side of the little cottage.
Julius approached the gate, which opened when he was within two feet of it. The large door swung open in time with the fence. McKellen hurried past with Alba in his arms. Alex was on his heels. Abigail lingered near the gate, marveling at the fairytale beauty of the place. Without taking her eyes off their others, she sidestepped off the cobblestone path onto the grass. She wiggled her toes, tangling them in the blades, grateful she abandoned her shoes in the truck. She sighed her contentment. It felt good to be out in fresh air, no bad things, just nature. It was hard to gnaw at her own problems in the midst of all the flowers, impossibly green grass, and trees. Alba would be safe here. Maybe they could all stay here for a few days. Recharge.
“Firecracker!”
Abigail hopped back onto the path, closed the gate behind her, and picked up her pace. “Coming!” Her bare feet slapped against the cobblestones as she raced to the door. McKellen disappeared around a corner, then the sound of footsteps descending creaky old stairs told her there was a basement. She had just entered the foyer when Julius grabbed her arm. She jerked to a stop, turned, looked down at his hand then at his face.
“What’s the meaning of this?” She scanned the empty living room. “Where’s everyone?”
Julius released her and stepped back. “McKellen went ahead with Alex to the healing room.”
“So, let’s go.”
Julius blocked her path. “It’s not good for the healing process to have so many people present.”
Abigail drew back. “What do you mean? Bridgette healed Alex in the middle of chaos. My uncle and I were there.”
Julius held up his hands, waving them in a crisscross motion. “No. It’s important for Bridgette to have no distractions. She needs to pinpoint whatever’s wrong with Alba. McKellen has been trained in the healing arts.”
“So?”
Julius leaned in. “McKellen told me about what happened in the parking lot with the phones.”
Abigail moved away, arms fluttering like useless wings as she struggled to find an explanation. Julius captured her arms, his grip gentle.
“This place was burned nearly to the ground. Whatever’s going on with you is attached to fire.” Julius looked over his shoulder. Abigail’s breathing was loud. Satisfied that no one was approaching, Julius returned his attention to her.
“Look. McKellen said he didn’t see magic or sense it on you, but when you set those phones to sparking, he felt it. It wasn’t strong, but it was there.”
Abigail would have jumped around squealing in an excitement, if the situation were different. She just stared at him.
“I’m magic?”
Julius shook his head vigorously. “No... I mean, I don’t know. You need to be tested.”
Abigail frowned. “My uncle won’t let me.”
Julius gave her a measured look, from head to toe and back up again. “He doesn’t have a choice in the matter. It’s Immortalem law that anyone showing signs of a talent must be tested.”
Abigail stared. She should be happy. She’d always been curious about it. Magic had always been that shiny thing just out of reach; now, she wasn’t so sure. There was a part of her magic that was predatory. It relished pain and basked in suffering, and she didn’t like it.
Julius’s grip on her arms tightened. She blinked.
“Look, Ms. Biggs, don’t worry about anything.” He let her go. “You just need to stay up here.”
“But won’t they wonder where I am?”
“Alex is preoccupied with her child right now. McKellen’s not going to say anything. He’s all for having you tested.” He took a few steps back. “He might take you to the testing grounds once we’re finished here.”
“What am I su
pposed to do until you get back?”
Julius started back, stepping in the direction the others went. He paused, pleading eyes fixed on her. “Just stay here.” He motioned for her to step out of the foyer into the main hall. The cottage was larger inside, more like a castle than a quaint little house. He looked off to the right, her gaze followed his. The cottage, though impressive on the outside, was enormous on the inside. The hall to the right of the foyer opened up into a library.
Julius held out his arms as if presenting a prize. “There are chairs where you sit and maybe pass the time reading or something.”
Abigail was already headed toward the books when Julius called her. He was already standing in the archway which led to the stairs the others descended. He clutched the edge of the wall.
“Ms. Biggs.”
Abigail’s head jerked in Julius’s direction. “Yes?”
“Will you stay up here?”
Abigail gave an absent nod as she entered the library area. The long halls were endless and the ceiling, Abigail craned her neck wondering if it ended in the clouds. She saw no source for the soft light. It was everywhere, not a bulb, torch, or light switch in sight. She was already lost among the vast titles along the spines of books lining the shelves. There were so many books, many were written in languages both familiar and unfamiliar. She spoke French, Italian, Spanish, and English.
“Good.” Julius sounded so relieved. He bowed, his hands outstretched as if offering a prayer, then backed around the corner. His feet padded rapidly down the stairs.
A small wrought-iron table with matching red chairs sat against the wall, across from the archway, but at an angle where she could see visitors before they saw her. She faced the bookshelves. Folding her hands in her lap, she prayed to the gods that she would not wander or touch the books demanding her attention. She was a guest and Bridgette might not like her messing with her things.
Chapter Fifteen
“Follow me.” Bridgette led McKellen to the healing room. She veered left after they passed a coat rack. She paused to open another door, flip a light switch just inside, then descended a set of steep spiral stairs without missing a step. Her bare feet were silent.