Grave Dealings

by R. R. Virdi

  Anna kept up the silent look.

  I was missing something. My head felt like an old television turned to a dead channel. Crackling static took over, so I changed the subject.

  “Get out of her room, now.” My voice could’ve flayed skin and sinew.

  “Why would I do that?”

  Good question.

  “Because if you don’t, I’ll shove my shoe so far up your ass the laces will tickle your tonsils.” It wasn’t the best answer.

  “Or I could stay here with little Shawna, and we could have a talk about what it costs to be a warrior princess.”

  Glass wailed and cracked in protest. A few shards bit into my hand that had suffered earlier in the day.

  I hoped Church signed up for the super regeneration insurance package. My hands were going to be pulped if this kept up.

  “I’m not going to let you do that to a fucking child!” My fist crashed into the glass twice more. The mirror flexed from the assault, and the cracks spread across much of the surface. “What happens if I break this and you’re on the other side with a kid you have no claim over? She hasn’t signed a contract yet. She’s worth nothing to you.” All I had to do for the moment was show Anna the kid wasn’t worth the hassle.

  Anna’s grin could only be described as monstrous. “Why don’t you let Milo tell you what’s worth what?”

  What?

  “Daniel?” said a voice I’d heard only a few times since beginning my case.

  I turned towards the source.

  He was a scrawny kid that sported the computer geek image down to the way he dressed. The rectangular glasses sitting at crookedly on the bridge of his nose didn’t help. I first pegged him at being in his mid-twenties, and his only redeeming feature to most was being over six feet.

  I’d also seen him get carried out on a stretcher after being electrocuted.

  The air left my lungs, freezing in my throat. “Oh, damn. Milo...”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  He hadn’t changed much since I saw him. The burn marks were gone. That was something at least.

  “Hey, Daniel.” He gave me a thin, pained smile.

  I don’t know who hurt more at that moment, him or me. I swallowed the moisture in my throat and croaked out a reply. “Hey, you’re looking...”

  His smile found a way to look thinner.

  I turned away from the image of Milo and glared at Anna. “What is this? No bullshit. I want answers.”

  “It’s Milo, or the part I laid claim to.”

  It took me a while to find the courage to wrench my gaze away from the Faust. That wasn’t Milo.

  It was his soul.

  I looked at him until I felt like I was looking through him. He didn’t look like any definition of a soul I’d ever come across. No ethereal glowing spirit, nothing vaguely ghost-like. He looked complete and whole. I could have gone up and put a hand on him. I wagered he would have felt solid.

  “No, you’re lying. He’s some spun-up concoction of this place.” I waved a hand at my surroundings.

  “If that’s what you want to believe.” She didn’t sound like she was yanking my chain.

  But then, monsters never do. They know how to play people. It’s how they do what they do. Fausts would be among the best at that. Wheedling people out of their immortal souls isn’t an easy job after all.

  “Why’s he look normal—real?”

  Her mouth fell open in an awkward, over-stretched manner that I assumed was a gawk. “The Hall of Mirrors is showing him to you the only way you can possibly process it. Believe me, what’s left of him looks very different to me. It’s like looking at strands of cloth around pieces of the original. It’s tattered, shredded, and what’s left is bare thread. Those are the strands of value anyway.”

  My knuckles popped, and my fingernails buried into my palms.

  She was talking about souls. People’s freaking souls. The things that made them—you, me—unique. The very idea of people and what they could become. Possibilities, infinite choices that could go on and resonate in the world. All of that came from the soul.

  Identity. The idea you get to be who you want to be. You earn that through the good choices and the bad.

  And to her, it was nothing more than a damnable fucking payment—a cash card.

  Milo was dead. Whatever I was looking at, soul or not, got shoved out of my mind.

  My fists shook. “You’re wrong.”

  “What?” Anna sounded like she was in disbelief.

  “About the bits of his soul you have and them being of worth. You’ve stripped that worth. People are always worth something—always. You took him out of this world. You have no idea what he could have gone on to do. Who he could have touched and inspired. What differences, small or large, he could have made. That mattered!” I turned and swung my fist at the mirror.

  Her ever-so-ugly Faustiness exploded from the mirror, clawed hand wrapping tight around my throat. My blow skirted past her cheek harmlessly as her momentum drove me back. She plowed forwards, driving me off balance. Anna thrust hard, forcing me to the ground and riding the move all the way down.

  My body screamed six different ways as her body crashed atop mine. Her hand cut off my scream, reducing it to a sputtering cry. Sepia tones splotched and blurred through my vision as I tried to focus. I sent the back of my fist into a blow against her forearm. It connected but failed to free my throat of her grip.

  She squeezed harder. “What’s the matter? No righteous retort?”

  “Hugurk!” It was the best I could do. I thrashed my lower half, lashing out with my knees. One struck her lower back, getting a quick huff of frustration out of her. If I didn’t figure out a way to stop the batty choke, dry-hump session, I’d suffocate.

  Some people pay for that...

  I’m not one of them.

  Anna pulled me by my throat, lifting my head a hand’s breadth from the ground. “Look at them.”

  My head hung back a bit, limp as the muscles in my neck struggled to hold it upright.

  Them?

  I groaned and stared behind me. Aw, hell. Milo wasn’t the only one watching me.

  His mother stood to his side, unaware of everything. Her gaze was hollow, almost like she was blind. Silence left her mouth despite her moving it in an effort to speak. She turned directly towards Milo, looking through him to another mirror.

  Her son stared back, fully cognizant that his own mother couldn’t recognize him. His expression said it all. The electrocution wasn’t the worst pain he’d endured.

  Seeing the remnants of your dead mother looking through you like you’re not there—that has to sting.

  And I wished she were the only one who’d sprung up.

  I pegged the newcomer as being in her late seventies. She was exactly the same as when I’d seen her in the hospital. Only her nose had been bleeding then. The old lady’s crocheted shawl was coming undone, and much of the yarn was frayed. That was new.

  Her glasses sported micro cracks that weren’t deep enough to compromise the lenses but enough in number to be an annoyance. The old woman’s eyes matched Milo’s mother’s. Glassy, unfocused things.

  Some things added up. A small boy went out for a joy ride, crashing a car in a way that should have ended his life. He got his miracle. His grandmother ended up dead. And now I knew who was behind that “miracle.”

  It wasn’t a stretch to figure grandma had gotten one hell of an offer to save her grandson. She was aging, probably didn’t have long in life, and most of all—loved her family. Of course she was willing to sign over something intangible so he’d live.

  Love does that to people. It’s one of the most powerful things out there, and people are willing to give up almost anything for it. It’s a power that’s toppled gods and darker things. Broken empires.

  Never forget that.

  Seeing her there and what she’d done reinvigorated me. I screamed to fuel myself and arched my back as much as I could. My fists arced down in
a pair of hammer blows directed at Anna’s forearm. Both struck in staggered succession, shaking her hold enough for me to wriggle free. I put on an animated and nasally Jersey accent. “Heads up, Bat Brain!” I twisted and put as much force as I could into my next punch. My fist met the side of her skull behind her right ear.

  Her head rocked to the side. Anna’s mouth parted in shock, and a globule of spittle flew free as she yelped.

  Yelped?

  Anna had felt the blow. Heck, it had rocked her.

  I followed up with another punch to the same spot, putting more of my weight into it. The second strike drove the Faust off of me, sending Anna to her side.

  She groaned, shaking her head.

  I scrambled to my feet, processing it all. “Holy shit, you were shrugging off bullets back there. You’re vulnerable here, aren’t you? Why? Wait, scratch that—ooph!” My midsection felt like I’d been tackled by a Smart Car with arms. There was enough speed and mass behind her to make me worry about my ribs as she continued to push.

  I sank my weight, struggling to ensure she wouldn’t upset my balance. The more I lowered my center of gravity, the more she struggled. She hadn’t lost her strength, but she definitely worked harder to put up a fight. I’d take whatever I could get. I straightened out and lifted an elbow before dropping it onto her spine.

  Anna threw her head back and snarled. Her momentum faltered, and she released her hold, swiping up with her talons.

  “Whoa!” I leaned back as the claws hissed spitefully by my chin. My hands clasped tight to her wrist, and I pivoted. I twisted harder, using more strength than proper technique to pull the Faust off balance. My hips braced against hers, and I yelled in effort.

  Anna left the ground, sliding over the side of my body and to the ground with a weighty crash. A pained uff left her mouth, and the thin membrane of her wings shuddered.

  I capitalized on the small blessing and dropped to a knee. My fist rocketed towards her bony rib cage. A hollow thud greeted me as my fist landed. I followed up with a succession of twin punches to the same spot. All that mass and weight being held up by a fragile set of bones meant that with enough force, I could make the act of just standing up a pain for Anna.

  I was fine with that. My arm wound back as I cocked it for another punch. Her short snout seemed as good a place as any to bury my fist. “This is going to hurt.”

  Anna’s mouth spread into a shaky smile. “Funny, I was going to say the same thing.” Her eyes flashed.

  What?

  I lashed out.

  Anna rolled, sending her wing’s bulk crashing into me. She used the rest of her bulk to topple me onto my side.

  I clawed at the ground and scrambled to my feet as she rushed past. “Chicken!”

  She ignored my jibe and dove into the nearest mirror.

  I chased after her, doing my best not to let my sight be stolen by the departed and lingering souls. I didn’t need the distraction. My feet skidded against the uneven ground as I came to a halt before the mirror.

  Anna wasn’t visible inside it.

  Everything within was shrouded in black.

  Someone needed to Windex that thing.

  A sound like sticks trailing against concrete prompted me to turn around.

  Anna closed in, somehow having got around me. Her clawed feet scraped against the ground as she hurtled towards me.

  It didn’t take me long to do the math. She’d entered the mirror, found another one in the mortal world, and hopped back in. Wonderful. A maze of mirrors.

  Just my luck.

  I’d been thinking about mirrors the wrong way this whole time. I had picked up the car mirror earlier thinking it was a one-way thing. You look in, and the image is reflected. I’d viewed them all as a one-way object.

  The Faust had shown me they were doors. And the thing about doors is that they may open in a single direction, but you can pass through them either way.

  So, if you shut the door with someone still in the room...

  I knew what I needed to do.

  And it was going to hurt.

  I raised my hands like I was ready for a fight. One I planned to lose.

  Anna’s fingers spread wide, the talons picking up glints of weak light from the Neravene. It didn’t help them look any less menacing. She snarled and swiped at me.

  I gulped, stepping into the blow to avoid the worst of it. Her bony forearm clipped my skull. Better that than her skewers. My head snapped to the side as a dull throb filled my temples.

  “You don’t think you can keep this up, do you? Going head to head with—” Anna was cut short by a sickening crunch as the front of her snout deformed, and my forehead ached. She yowled in a mix of pain and fury.

  I pulled my noggin back, rubbing the sore spot. I guess I take things too literally at times.

  Trails of ichor—mucus and blood—dribbled from her nostrils.

  I needed to be the one bleeding for my plan to work. Anna aimed to help make that happen apparently.

  She lunged, grabbing hold of my shoulders and spreading her mouth wide.

  I winced, and instinct drove me to struggle. “Gyah!” Curved, saw-like needles ripped into the flesh between the base of my neck and shoulder. The area of muscle screamed and tremored as she shook her teeth. I swallowed the whimper trying to leave my lips.

  If this kept up, she’d chew her way down to my pelvis.

  It’s not as fun as it sounds, kids.

  I pistoned a fist into her gut to little effect. She seemed keen on using me as her chew toy. I buried both sets of fingers into her throat, digging into every point I could.

  Anna’s eyes widened, and she released her hold, gasping. Her wings beat in a frenzy as she raked her claws against my chest.

  I broke my grip, reeling back and pawing at my front. I panted and pulled my hand away from my chest. A coating of blood acted like syrup, trying to glue my hand to the shredded bits of my shirt.

  Well, step one done. Bleed.

  Ow.

  Anna released an animalistic burble and swung with the back of her closed fist.

  The clay-like tones of the Neravene flashed out of sight, replaced by electric streaks of yellow and red as my head whipped to the side. My mouth ached, and the ground moved below me. I tasted salt and iron. Her backhanded strike had split the inside of my cheek. My body hit the ground, and I rolled several feet before coming to a stop.

  Muted shades of brown and dull color flooded my vision. A dribble of blood leaked out of one corner of my mouth, refusing to fall to the ground. I racked up a bit of saliva and spat it out to force the blood to follow. A brief groan left my lips, and I pushed myself up to a shaky stand. It was short lived.

  My lower back exploded in pain and the muscles around it seized in response. I lurched forwards off balance, turning to look back in time to act. My hand shot out in instinct. The inside of Anna’s wrist struck my forearm, but it wasn’t enough to deflect her attack. Razor blades and hot coals raced over my left bicep, leaving small furrows that ran red.

  There was such a thing as bleeding too much for the cause.

  I felt it was time to put up a better fight. Especially since Anna wasn’t batting one hundred percent in the Neravene.

  I gnashed my teeth and gritted through the pain in my arm. I reached out with a hand and sunk my fingers into her wing. With a quick yank, I tore the membrane.

  She screamed. It was a high-pitched trill—any louder and it would’ve been beyond human hearing.

  Flesh stretched and strained, fighting back until the semi-elastic tissue couldn’t hold any longer.

  For the record, I was right. Anna’s howling intensified into something that nearly caused my ears to bleed before I couldn’t hear it any longer.

  Scraps of thin skin hung from my fingers. Bits of the membrane acted almost like they had a mind of their own, clinging tight and almost wrapping around my digits. I shook my hands free of filth. A rogue piece held to one of my index fingers.

  �
��Bastard!” Anna’s mangled mouth twitched before her lips peeled into a snarl. Blood tinged teeth greeted me.

  I suppressed a shiver and replied in kind. My smile wasn’t as intimidating, but it made a point. I dangled the loose bit of former wing hanging from my finger. “Got your nosey...erhm, well, wing bit. Ew.” I flicked it free.

  She shrieked and sent her claws into a frenzied flurry. It was like being attacked by a pair of douchey paranormal blenders.

  I backpedaled, relying on years of instinct and borrowed skills to avoid the worst of it. My clothing suffered each time I shifted my weight and body to narrowly miss being turned into Graves tartare. I lost track of how many times my eyes shut and my jaw locked to drown out the pain during our exchange.

  Anna pushed harder.

  I don’t know where she drew the strength to keep up. Maybe I’d pissed her off to an extreme degree.

  I have that effect on monsters.

  Anna swiped at my throat, aiming to open an extra airway in it.

  On the account that I was breathing fine as it was, I elected to leap towards her. I grunted as the inside of her arm batted my already wounded bicep. Angry heat flared through the spot but I took it and wrapped my arms around her. I set my jaw and squeezed my arms as hard as I could. The bear hug wouldn’t do much to hurt her, but it’d keep her from trying to turn my face and throat into mincemeat.

  She thrashed in my grip, and my muscles burned in response.

  I just needed to haul her ass to the nearest mirror, and I could get to work.

  The fire in my arms was winning out.

  Anna dragged a set of talons over my thigh.

  My grip broke, and the Faust turned, sending a bony elbow into my face. Red and bright white streaked through my eyes again. I staggered back, glancing at my right leg. The slashes weren’t fatal, but they’d be bothersome for a while. I’d live and heal fine.

  Anna hobbled towards another mirror not more than a dozen yards from us.

  “Like hell you do.” I slapped a hand to my thigh, squeezing the wound tight in hopes of stemming some of the blood. Weariness and pain sought to drag me to the ground like lead weights. I shook my head, trying to dispel the fatigue. My adrenaline rush had come and gone. But, if I didn’t stop Anna, more people would lose their souls.