Ghost Light (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective)

by Stevens, E. J.

  “The fae don’t like their secrets told to humans,” I said.

  “No, indeed, they do not,” he said. “As you have guessed, I believe The Piper to be fae. The haunting, hypnotizing melodies of faerie music are known to hold power over mortals. Most humans become so overwhelmed that they are compelled to join the endless dance.”

  “The endless dance,” I said, shaking my head. “But I thought the endless dance only took place in faerie rings and around burial mounds.”

  “Of course, that’s why he’s taking the children to the graveyards and cemeteries,” Ceff said. “He doesn’t need a faerie ring.”

  “But how is he charming full blooded faeries?” I asked.

  “I believe he made a deal with a demon,” Father Michael said.

  Beady eyes gleamed behind his glasses. The crazy priest was obsessed with demons. I let out a heavy sigh.

  “What kind of deal?” I asked.

  “I don’t know the terms, but I can guess what he wanted,” Father Michael said.

  He pointed at a figure standing outside the circle of dancers in the Danse Macabre painting. The demon—for it was definitely a demon with red skin, cloven hooves, pointy tail, and horns—was holding a flute to his lips.

  “A flute to force both the living and the dead to dance?” I asked.

  “Some scholars say that the Danse Macabre is just an allegory demonstrating the fragility of life,” he said.

  “But?” I asked.

  “But I believe the Danse Macabre is real,” he said. “And that this flute can compel anyone, dead or living, mortal or fae, to join the endless dance.”

  “Okay, say this obsessed faerie piper makes a deal with a demon for the magic flute,” I said. “Why would he want to force the faerie children into the dance? They may be immortal, but they’ll tire eventually. No one can survive the endless dance.”

  “That I don’t know,” he said. “But I’d venture a guess that the master of the city may know something.”

  “The vampire master of the city?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “His knowledge of raising the dead is unsurpassed. Not only do the most powerful vampires infuse the dead with their essence to create ghoul servants, but they also have the experience of their own un-death to draw upon. Ask the vampire master of the city what would happen if faerie children and the dead were to dance the Danse Macabre together, because if The Pied Piper is using the demon flute to lead the children to the endless dance, then the dead will join the dance. Perhaps he can divine The Pied Piper’s purpose and have some insight as to how he can be stopped.”

  “Okay, I was planning on paying the vamps a visit anyway,” I said. “I’ll add your questions to the list.”

  The priest shifted from one foot to the other.

  “I wish that I could tag along, but vampires detest priests, for obvious reasons,” he said. He gestured to the crosses adorning his stole and the gold cross at his neck. “If you discover anything, you will tell me, won’t you? For my research?”

  “Sure,” I said. “We should get going.”

  I looked up at the stained glass windows high overhead. The light filtering through the glass was faint. Was it dusk already? I started to reach for my phone to check the time, when a dark shape flit past one of the ruby, red panes of glass.

  Could a bird have become trapped inside the church? The shadowy form rushed back and forth past colored glass, flying closer to a brass light fixture with each pass. The jerky pacing looked frenzied and I worried that the bird would harm itself trying to find a way to escape. Its movement appeared abnormal from my vantage point. Hopefully it hadn’t already injured a wing.

  I squinted, trying to get a better look as it flew closer to the wall sconce and into the dim light. As if sensing my gaze, the creature stopped mid-flight and turned to face me. I froze, jaw dropping open.

  That was no bird.

  The faerie, for it was definitely fae, appeared similar to a small, three-legged lamb—if lambs could fly. Tiny wings sprouted from its sides like a chimeric My Little Pony. At least it didn’t have butterflies or rainbows tattooed on its butt.

  “Um, you do know you have a faerie flying around up there, don’t you?” I asked.

  I pointed toward the ceiling where the lamb-like creature had begun jumping through the rafters. The faerie seemed content now that it had been seen. It bleated happily as it leapt over a large, beautifully carved beam. I’d never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen a lot.

  “What?” Father Michael asked. “Galliel is our only resident fae…Oh.”

  The priest’s face paled and perspiration beaded on his upper lip.

  “A Grim,” Ceff said, in hushed tones.

  “You guys can see it?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Father Michael said. He sagged, his robes suddenly seeming too heavy for his thin frame. “I can see it clearly.”

  Father Michael turned to me, eyes wide and watery. Hair prickled on the back of my neck. Something was definitely wrong.

  “What?” I asked. “What’s wrong? Is it dangerous?”

  I stroked the outline of my knives, still hidden beneath the sleeves of my leather jacket, and widened my stance. I kept an eye on the faerie as it played in the shadows. It was smaller than a real lamb, about the size of a large housecat, and covered in crimped wool the color of milk. The feathers covering its wings were a pale shade of blue.

  The thing was adorable, but I knew better than to trust appearances. Some of the deadliest fae were cute as a baby panda bear.

  “No, it’s not dangerous,” he said. “At least, not to us.”

  “Then why the long faces?” I asked. “You guys look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Ceff winced, eyes haunted as they followed the faerie.

  “A church grim is not predatory,” Father Michael said. “They are guardians, attached to a particular church, who watch over our flock. But to see a grim means that one of my flock is in danger. They are harbingers of death…the death of a child.”

  I staggered backward, shaking my head.

  “No, that can’t be,” I said. “I won’t let anything happen to those kids. We’re going to find them.” I took a shaky breath and whispered. “We have to find them.”

  I had promised all of the children’s parents that I would bring their kids home safe.

  Galliel pressed against me, nuzzling his face under my arm until I stroked his head. Running my fingers through his mane helped me focus. The appearance of the church grim was upsetting, but I wasn’t ready to give up on those kids.

  The future isn’t written in stone. Omens and portents have been wrong before. I had to believe that we had the power to make things right.

  “I will continue to search through my library,” Father Michael said. “Perhaps there is something in one of my books that can help. In the meantime, ask the vampires about The Pied Piper of Hamelin and the Danse Macabre. There is a chance that the undead may be able to deduce his whereabouts.”

  I glanced up to see that the stained glass windows had grown dark. The sun had finally set. It was time to interrogate some vamps.

  Chapter 14

  I sighed and pressed the doorbell. It was beginning to look less and less like vampires were involved in the kidnappings, but I hadn’t ruled them out. I could get the measure of them inside their lair. But most of all, I was here to follow up on the priest’s theory. If The Piper was using some demon instrument that raised the dead, then the vamps, experts on animating the dead, may have some insights.

  I tapped my foot and pressed the doorbell, again. I lifted my gloved hand to knock and nearly fell as the heavy door swung inward.

  I’d been expecting Stinky, the vamp boss’s rotting ghoul servant, but instead the door was held open by a tall vampire in a tailored suit. The vampire was bent slightly at the waist, arm outstretched. I didn’t like having strange vamps at my back, but it would be rude to insist he walk ahead of us. I angled my body to keep one
eye on the bowing vamp as I stepped inside. The vampire straightened as we walked past, but froze when he raised his eyes to mine.

  It was the vamp from the waterfront, the one I pissed off the night of the each uisge attack. I hadn’t made myself a friend in that brief meeting. The vampire had come to tell me that the council of dusty leeches was mad at me for making a bargain with The Green Lady without consulting them during the course of the battle.

  He had tried to stop me, giving the message that he, “was sent to voice the displeasure of the council.” Big whoop, I couldn’t have cared less. The vamp had shown up while deadly water fae were attacking the harbor. I had more pressing things to worry about than a disgruntled vamp; I had a friend to find and a city to save.

  It’s unwise to offend a vampire, but in my defense, I didn’t think I’d survive the night. I said something insulting and rushed past, leaving him to stand there like a fool. The vamp never had a chance to deliver the full message from the council. That probably hadn’t endeared him to his masters.

  The vamp took a step toward me and hissed. He hadn’t forgotten my rudeness. The angry vampire fought to hold his pretty boy glamour, but I could have seen through his magic even if he wasn’t upset. His true form—a dried, corpsified husk with fangs—frowned and flexed his claws.

  Oh yeah, I’d accomplished what I did best. I’d created an enemy.

  I took a deep breath and calmed my racing heartbeat. The vamp was already licking his parchment-like lips, hunger awakened by his fury. It wouldn’t help matters if I rang the dinner bell. Letting my heart race was like holding up a flashing sign saying, “eat me.”

  The vampire was sizing me up for dinner, but I didn’t run away. I slowed my pulse with another deep breath and stepped forward, into his personal space. That was the first rule of dealing with vamps; never show fear.

  “I never did catch your name,” I said.

  “Gerald,” he said.

  He spat the name through lengthening fangs and I nodded, sizing him up.

  “So, Gerald, you’re really coming up in the world,” I said. A wry smile tugged at my lips. “Who’d you piss off to get knocked down from courier to doorman?”

  Okay, I shouldn’t toy with someone who could snap me like kindling with his bare hands, but I liked busting this guy’s chops. Watching the vamp squirm helped me forget my own problems.

  Gerald stood vamp still. The problem with vampires was that the combination of their failed humanity and immortal un-death made them emotionally reactive, but on a totally different timeframe from humans. Vamps like Gerald tended to fluster easily and ruminate for days on how to respond. By the time he decided on a witty comeback, I’d be long gone.

  Playing with Gerald was fun, but I was in a hurry. We needed to question the vampire master of the city and save the children before the church grim’s premonition came true.

  I turned and walked down the sloping tunnel cut deep into the bedrock of Joysen Hill. It felt like the narrow, rib-vault hallway was swallowing us whole. I tried not to stare at the ceiling and the tons of Harborsmouth real estate over our heads.

  Ceff lengthened his stride, coming up beside me. He flashed a smile and shook his head.

  “You have a strange way of asking favors,” he said.

  I smiled and flipped my hair.

  “It’s a gift,” I said.

  Ceff chuckled and I warmed all over.

  A blur flashed past and Gerald appeared in the hall below us, ruining the mood. The vampire cleared his throat, a dry hacking sound like a zombified cat coughing up a fur ball, and waved us forward with the flick of his wrist.

  “This way,” he said.

  Ceff started down the tunnel and I followed. He was wearing his favorite pair of jeans that hugged his butt perfectly. I let him walk ahead of me, no longer concerned about the bone crushing stone overhead or the pissed off vamp below.

  Ogling a guy’s butt? Trust me. It was better than speculating about the dark red stains on the walls. My skin flushed, tension melting away. I could get used to working cases with Ceff.

  I nearly stumbled into Ceff when we came to an abrupt stop. We were at the doors to the vampire assembly room. Gerald stood stiffly before us, waiting for our request.

  “Ivy Granger and Ceffyl Dŵr to see the master of the city,” I said.

  Gerald smirked and gestured to a small alcove which contained the world’s most uncomfortable chair. There was no way I was sitting on that contraption again.

  “I’ll stand, thanks,” I said. “We’re in a hurry.”

  Gerald approached the door, but didn’t go inside to announce our arrival. Instead he stood perfectly still, his entire body going rigid, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. A slight breeze from the wards on the council chamber doors lifted tufts of dry hair that lay in patches on his head, but the vamp didn’t twitch.

  Oh, right, telepathy. Apparently the vampire servant didn’t need to go inside to communicate our request for an audience. I discovered on my last visit that the master of the city and members of the vampire council had the ability to speak to one another telepathically. I hadn’t been sure if young vamps had the skill, but Gerald had the entranced look the old vamps had exhibited when using their minds to converse.

  I bit my lip, hoping the master of the city was in his chambers and willing to see me again. The Boss, and his vampire cronies, had ended our last meeting with veiled threats. I reached inside my jacket, gripped the lighter in my pocket, and checked the stakes at my back.

  I hoped I wouldn’t need my weapons, but I came prepared. Just in case.

  Chapter 15

  A tingle of magic, like static electricity, rushed over my skin and then faded as the doors to the council chamber opened. The wards had been deactivated. Gerald stepped forward and gestured for us to enter.

  Apparently, the master of the city was willing to talk. If his answer had been negative, we never would have got past those doors. The wards would have blasted us into ash if we tried.

  Ceff gave me a reassuring smile and we stepped over the threshold together into a large, cavernous room. I strode across the marble floor with Ceff at my side. Gerald fell into step behind us, bringing up the rear.

  The room itself had not changed since my last visit, but the scene was not what I’d expected. I stopped mid-stride and blinked. The doors slammed shut behind us with a boom that sucked air from the room and made my ears pop. The wards had been reset, sealing us in with the vampire master of the city—and his friends.

  The master of the city wasn’t alone. Sir Gaius Aurelius, master of the city and chairman of the northeastern vampire council, sat at the head of a long table surrounded by the most powerful vamps of New England. From the looks of it, the entire vampire council was present.

  Gerry, you plucky duck. I looked over my shoulder to where Gerald stood in the shadows. He was leaning against the wall and when he saw me turn, he grinned, showing more fang than usual. The vamp had known the council was in session, but brought me in anyway. I’m sure he was enjoying my discomfort.

  Touché.

  I sighed and returned my attention to the gathered council members. The vamps sat around a large table in the center of the lavish banquet hall. The council was made up of the most powerful vampires in the North East, and every single one of them was staring at me. I felt like a bug pinned to velvet for their amusement.

  I did a quick threat assessment. Oh yeah, we were screwed. There were thirteen vampires seated at the table. With Gerald at my back, that made fourteen vampires total. The vamps continue to stare at me, and all but one sat eerily still.

  Sir Gaius, master of the city, who I’d mentally nicknamed The Boss on my last visit, sat with fingers steepled. The tips of his fingers rustled like dead leaves as they tapped repeatedly together. Blood pounded in my ears as everyone in the room waited for the master of the city to speak.

  I flexed my hands, but kept them at my sides away from my weapons. I wasn’t here for a fight, but,
if push came to shove, this little bug could sting. I lifted my chin and stared at Sir Gauis’ forehead.

  I’m not sure what Ceff saw when he looked at the assembled crowd, but I’d warned him ahead of time not to trust his eyes. Vampires change their appearance with innate magic similar to faerie glamour. Their magic portrays the image of a sexy, beautiful creature with seductive eyes, full lips, and alabaster skin—and for good reason. Vamps would never lure an easy blood meal without hiding behind their magic.

  Vampires in their true form are nothing more than fanged corpses, dried out husks of flesh and bone. Their skin, the color and texture of dried parchment, is stretched tightly over bones and skulls giving each face a toothy, rictus grin. The watery parts of the body are always the first to go, and these vamps were old. They all stared out from empty eye sockets above gaping sinus cavities.

  Too bad the lack of eyeballs didn’t lessen the risk of mesmerism. Vampires can only permanently change memories through the introduction of their saliva—one of the few sources of moisture still produced by their bodies—but their ability to ensnare minds with a look is legendary. I wasn’t about to let these creeps ensnare me with their gruesome eye sockets.

  I focused on The Boss’s forehead and bowed slightly.

  “Corpse candle,” he said.

  “Sir Gauis,” I said, nodding.

  The master of the city had addressed me this way before, but I hadn’t known who, or what, I was at the time. Corpse candle is another term for wisp. Not the most flattering address, but accurate. I wondered how the vampire knew that I was fae.

  Maybe those empty eye sockets saw more than they let on.

  “What could be so important that it demands our attention during a council meeting?” he asked.

  There was an edge to his voice and my eyes darted to the other vamps. They continued to sit unmoving, but a flick of Gaius’ wrist was all that kept the council from launching themselves at our throats. One water fae and one half-breed against thirteen vamps in a magically sealed chamber? Not good odds. Oh, make that fourteen vamps. We couldn’t forget ol’ Gerry in the shadows. He’d be the first on me, if I angered Sir Gaius.