“I couldn’t swim,” she murmured. “Never learned. Made it across on the ship, didn’t like the sea. Hate the water.” All traces of Alicia’s Southern accent were gone, replaced by a thick Irish brogue.
“Emily?” I asked quietly. Sorren frowned, but followed my lead and gave me an encouraging nod. Caliel’s eyes were closed, and although he was silent, his lips were moving. In the distance, I heard a dog bark. I caught a faint whiff of pipe tobacco. That told me Caliel was calling to Papa Legba, the Voudon Loa who opens the passage between our realm and the other side.
“I’m Emily,” the voice replied.
“Do you remember your sewing machine, at work?” I tried to make my voice as gentle as possible.
“Oh, what a beauty!” Emily said. “An’ I was good with it, too. Fast. Careful. Nearly had my contract paid back early, just a few more months—” So that was the ‘freedom’ I had sensed. Emily was going to buy back her indenture contract, become a free woman, maybe even become an independent seamstress. She had been so close to her goal when she died. Yet another reason her spirit didn’t rest easy.
“What happened, when the rains came?”
Alicia didn’t answer right away, “Couldn’t get out. Couldn’t swim. Water kept coming. So high, so cold. The walls fell and the water washed us away.”
“That was a long time ago, Emily. You slept. What woke you up?”
“The man,” Emily replied, and I heard both fear and dislike in her tone.
“What man?”
“The gray man. He woke us. Then he left us alone for a long time. Now he came back. I don’t like him. Don’t want to do what he says.”
“What does he say?” I pressed, sure we were close to the key.
Emily screamed. Alicia’s face contorted in agony, and she grasped her temples with both hands, then fell forward, suddenly limp. Sorren caught her before her face smacked into the table. I held out her glass of sweet tea, and Alicia roused enough to take a few sips.
“Something cut her off.” The voice and manner was Alicia’s own. “I felt it. Someone didn’t want Emily to talk to us.” Alicia managed a wan smile and Sorren removed his supporting arm from around her shoulders.
“Did you sense anything else, in the instant the other presence was near?” Sorren asked. His tone was urgent, and my worry-meter ticked up a few more notches.
“Power,” Alicia said, thinking back. “It felt unclean. Rage. I had the feeling that whoever was using the power might lose control at any second.”
Just then, Teag burst into the room. “Y’all need to hear this,” he said. “From what I can find on the Darke Web, Danny Thompson is a necromancer wanna-be.”
We moved back into the living room, and Alicia lay down on the couch, while Sorren, Caliel, and I drew up armchairs. Teag perched on the arm of the couch. “Danny Thompson is the stereotype of the kind of guy who shows up to work one day with a sawed-off shotgun and wipes out everyone in the office,” he said.
“Twenties, no close friends, barely got out of high school. Worked a bunch of low-paying jobs—food service, janitor, night clerk at convenience stores—none of them for very long. All the company databases I could hack said he had ‘attitude problems’. What I saw on his Facebook page told me has a chip on his shoulder bigger than the Empire State Building.”
“Where does the necromancy come in?” Caliel asked. I noticed that Sorren was being very quiet.
“Danny has been hanging around some bad places in the Darke Web,” Teag replied. “Asking questions, trying to meet people. All of it about raising the spirits of the dead.” He flicked a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “Lots of people are posers, but Danny knew enough to ask the kind of questions that got people talking on the Darke Web, where the real supernaturals hang out.”
“Why did he want to raise the dead?” Caliel asked, his dark eyes growing worried. “That’s bad stuff. He lose someone?”
Teag shook his head. “I don’t think Danny’s looking for a family reunion. The people on the Darke Web thought he knew enough to be dangerous, so they refused to talk to him. I was able to hack into his computer—lousy firewall.” He looked like he was going to be sick.
“What?” I asked.
“He had pictures from Columbine. From Virginia Tech. From Aurora. All the rampages of the last couple of decades, he had the photos, like a shrine to the shooters. And he had an enemies list that matched the photos we saw. Best I could figure it was his bosses at all the places he’d worked.” He paused, pushing his hair back from his face with both hands in a gesture of desperation. “He’s planning to make them pay, kill dozens of people—and he’s going to use the restless dead to do it.”
We sat in stunned silence for a moment. Then Sorren spoke. “This is my fault.”
I stared at him. “How do you figure?”
Sorren looked worn. “The second Hurricane of 1885 wasn’t an entirely natural phenomenon. That was a bad year for storms. There was a lot of dark energy loose, and if it doesn’t get tapped and used, it builds into storms, earthquakes, that sort of thing. Wild energy like that attracts madmen. Jacob Hitchens was a freed slave who came from the sugar plantations in Haiti. He was a bokor—not a true Voodoo hougan or mambo, but someone who would cast curses for pay.”
Anger sparked in Caliel’s eyes. “I’ve heard of Jacob Hitchens. We disavow him. He’s bad seed. Not real Voudon.”
Sorren nodded. “The Alliance knew Hitchens was trouble. We had managed to shut him out of artifacts he tried to get on other occasions. He fancied himself a necromancer, and word reached us he had made a zombie of his own in the old ways. I went to shut him down.”
“But something went wrong,” I murmured, and Sorren looked stricken.
“Hitchens was powerful,” Sorren said. “I went up against him with some others from the Alliance. We thought we had destroyed him. Then, many years later, I heard rumors that Hitchens had stored some of his power in a talisman, and that he sent his soul into that talisman when he ‘died’ during the battle. No one knew one way or the other. I tried to learn more, but I hit dead ends.”
“You think that somehow, Danny Thompson found Hitchens’s talisman?” Caliel asked.
Sorren nodded. “And that either Thompson was able to take what was stored of Hitchens’s power, or that Hitchens really did hide his soul there.”
“And if Hitchens was a real necromancer, he might have been able to pour his soul into Danny Thompson, control him, guide him,” Teag finished. “Shit.”
“How do we stop him?” I asked. “If Teag’s right, Danny is planning to go postal on everyone he had a grudge against. People are going to die.”
“Gonna be Halloween tomorrow,” Caliel said. “If he’s going to do something with the spirits, likely to be then.”
“Danny wanted the UrbEx people and SPOOK folks to go out to Palmetto View because he knew about the flood debris,” Teag guessed. “He figured those unclaimed dead could boost his power.” People like Emily, and the young women I had seen in my vision, who died because they took a chance on building a better life.
Sorren nodded. “I’m afraid you’re right. And if so, we’ve got very little time to prepare.”
“We can stop him, right?” I said. “I mean, you stopped Hitchens.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” Sorren said. “I worked with the Alliance. So I believe we can beat Thompson. But we’ve got to hurry. He’s likely to make his move tomorrow, on Halloween.”
“This Thompson fellow means to do some killin’,” Caliel said. “We’re going to shut him down.”
Normally, Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I love the costumes and the parties for kids and grown-ups. Even before I knew that some of the things that go bump in the night are real, I loved the ghost stories and monster movies. Now that my job involves protecting people from dark magic and supernatural bad guys, I still like Halloween because it’s make-believe. The real stuff is a lot scarier.
* * *
&nbs
p; HALLOWEEN WAS GOING strong when we headed out. Kids were out Trick-or-Treating in the neighborhoods, and lots of houses had put up spooky decorations. Even the stores, restaurants, and bars we passed got into the act. It was just after eight. The real denizens of the dark wouldn’t come out until midnight, when the veil is thin between the world of the living and the places of the dead, and magic is strongest. I’d bet money that Danny Thompson would be out late tonight.
Teag and I drove over to Palmetto View Plaza together. Caliel and Alicia came in a second car. Sorren said he would meet us there, and I figured he would scout the area. Even so, Teag circled the block looking for cops, vagrants, or loiterers who might cause problems. Maybe it was because people had better things to do, or perhaps it was the uncomfortable vibes the old plaza was giving off, but no one was around.
We pulled into Palmetto View Plaza’s parking lot. It looked like a lot of 1970s strip malls: uninspired and ugly in a mass-produced way. A long time ago, each end of the strip had a big department store with specialty shops, restaurants and dry cleaners sandwiched in between. Now, the storefronts were boarded up, the asphalt in the parking lot was broken and wavy, and trash blew across the huge, empty lot like tumbleweeds. Only a couple of the parking lot overhead lights still worked, but they were down on the other end of the plaza. Here and there, weeds poked up through the holes in the asphalt. It looked like something straight out of a Hollywood back lot for a zombie movie, so heading out to stop a necromancer didn’t seem too far off.
“Got everything?” Teag asked, and I checked my gear. I wore an agate necklace and a bracelet with small brass bells, all good for protection. Different types of magic or supernatural bad guys required different weapons or protections, and we were starting to collect quite a variety. I had a smooth chunk of obsidian and a piece of black tourmaline in my pocket, along with a pouch of salt, good for neutralizing a lot of bad magic. And just in case, I had a smooth glass nazar, a flat disk that looked like a blue eye inside a dark blue border. At the last minute, on a hunch, I wrapped a cloth around Danny Thompson’s ‘Best Effort’ award and took it with me.
Teag had an obsidian ring and his own salt and tourmaline. On a strap around his neck, he had a Philippine agimat charm, and a hamsa to ward off evil magic. His worn birch staff from his martial arts training was in the back. The staff was scarred from use and the top was carved with protective runes, and several short bits of rope with macramé knots were tied to one end. Teag’s Weaver magic let him store power in knots. He had a small backpack with him, and I knew he had brought some other magical weapons, just in case.
In the backseat, we had the pieces of Emily’s old sewing machine in a sturdy tote bag.
We parked close to the empty big box store nearest the sinkhole. Odds were high that was where we’d find Danny Thompson, if he really was going to try to raise the spirits of the hurricane’s victims. Teag and I waited in the car until Caliel and Alicia pulled up a few moments later. Sorren walked out of the shadows just as they turned off the engine and cut their headlights. Overhead, the moon was nearly full. Good thing, or we wouldn’t have been able to see at all.
“Ready?” Sorren asked. I glanced at Caliel, who was dressed in white. He had a backpack with him, and I guessed it had all the items he needed to summon the Loa and fend off a necromancer. He had a small hand drum, and a gourd rattle as well, tools of his calling as a hougan. Alicia wore a small silver crucifix and citrine earrings, but if she carried other protections, they were hidden. I noticed that tonight, Sorren also wore an iron disk with carvings I could not read.
“Is Danny Thompson here?” I asked.
Sorren shook his head. “There’s no one around except us. Let’s hurry.” We followed him around to the side of the old department store. Sorren jimmied the lock like an expert, but then again, he was a jewel thief when he was mortal. The store was a public place, so he didn’t need an invitation to enter. We slipped inside quickly and closed the door, leaving it unlocked in case we needed a quick exit.
You never realize just how big stores are until they’re empty. The old big box store seemed to stretch on forever. Moonlight streamed down through skylights and the unboarded upper windows, making it possible to see at least part of the store. The merchandise was long gone, and so were the best fixtures, but dirty glass display cases and dozens of clothing racks stood where they had been abandoned. The tile floor was littered with old price tags, torn bits of paper and a couple of creepy discarded mannequins. Overhead, faded ‘Clearance Sale’ banners hung askew. The floor was dirty, and in the distance I could hear water dripping from somewhere. The moonlight only reached part of the sales floor, leaving the walls deep in shadow.
We all knew the plan. Alicia and I found a place in the shadows halfway toward the back wall where we could have a pretty clear view of what was going on. I used the salt to make a circle just large enough for Alicia and me to stand inside, along with the old sewing machine. At the four directional points, I set out the chunk of onyx and the piece of tourmaline, the brass bell bracelet and the nazar to strengthen the protective energies. Outside the circle, I laid the cloth-wrapped plastic obelisk, Danny Thompson’s one award.
Alicia carefully removed Emily’s sewing machine from the tote bag and set it in the center of the circle. Then we both stepped inside, and waited. I didn’t close the circle yet, because we didn’t want Danny Thompson to sense the magic.
Teag, Sorren, and Caliel moved cautiously toward the back of the store, alert for traps—supernatural or otherwise. I knew that Caliel would need to make some preparations if he meant to call the Loas, and I wondered how he would hide what he was doing from Thompson—or Hitchens, if the old necromancer’s spirit was present. The wind gusted, and the old building creaked. I wondered how strong the building was, or what kind of strain a magic battle might place on it. We were going to find out soon enough.
“Cassidy.”
I let out a quiet yip of surprise as Sorren seemed to appear out of nowhere next to our salt circle. “Thompson’s definitely been here—and it looks like he means to return. He’s got all his ritual artifacts in place, right where the building overhangs the sinkhole. Now all we’ve got to do is wait.”
“Won’t he notice we’re here?” I asked in a hushed voice.
Caliel came up from the other side, and this time, I managed not to yelp. “I don’t think so,” he answered. “I’ve laid down some spells of misdirection, low level so he shouldn’t notice the power or what we’re hiding.” He pulled a handful of dried bones from a pouch.
“Here. One for each of you. Gave one to Teag already. Black cat bones. An’ no, I didn’t kill any cats,” he said before we could ask. “I found one already dead and took the bones a while ago, savin’ them for something important. Keep the bone with you. Makes you hard to see. We’ll be able to see each other, since we all have the bones, but Thompson—he won’t see us unless he looks straight at us and knows we’re there,” Caliel said. I noticed that he also wore a gold coin with a sun seal on a strap around his neck, an amulet supposed to hide its wearer in plain sight.
“Now, we wait,” Sorren said. “And stay silent. Caliel’s charms will make you hard to notice, but if Thompson hears you or looks right at you, he’ll know we’re here.”
We sat in the near-darkness, waiting for a long time. Overhead, the moon made its course, changing where its light filtered down through the grimy skylights. Water dripped and the wind outside caught at a loose piece of plywood over one of the broken windows. I feared there would be rats, but their absence was worse—it was a sign that dark magic was present. Somewhere in the distance, church bells rang eleven times.
Alicia and I sat inside the nearly-closed circle. I tried not to touch much, but the floor tiles themselves held the resonance of disappointment and failure. Alicia wasn’t going to attempt to contact Emily until the time was right, but from the dreamy, half-awake look on her face, I wondered if the spirits were already contacting her. Now and
then, I caught glimpses out of the corner of my eye, movement that was there and then gone.
The scrape of a door on concrete roused me. I wrapped my hand around the cat bone in my pocket, hoping Caliel’s magic worked as promised.
I saw a shadowy figure enter and look around, then as if he were satisfied that the store was empty, the figure began to haul a large, squirming sack and a duffel bag. The person stood up, and immediately I looked away. I couldn’t afford to accidentally make eye contact and break the veil of misdirection.
Whatever was in the bag was making a ruckus, and I figured it was a chicken to be sacrificed. Thompson shouldered his burdens and strode toward a place right up against the back wall and directly over where the sinkhole had opened to the depths below. As he busied himself with preparations, I laid a hand on Alicia’s arm. It was time. We couldn’t afford to let Thompson get too far along. I closed the salt circle, and felt the magic activate.
Alicia touched the sewing machine first, and then I laid my hands on its cool, steel form, amplifying the memories and hopefully, Alicia’s power. Alicia’s head fell back and her eyes closed, but she made no noise. This time, I could manage Emily’s powerful memories without being overwhelmed. I couldn’t touch her spirit the way Alicia could, but Sorren thought my magic would help create an anchor—and a counterbalance to Thompson’s dark magic.
“Who’s there?” Thompson called out, straightening suddenly and turning to face the dark expanse of empty store. No one breathed. He stared into the darkness for a minute or two, then swore under his breath and went back to his work.
Thompson picked up the burlap bag with the chicken. It was clawing and fighting, squawking in panic. While Thompson’s attention was on the chicken, I saw a blur of motion as Sorren came at the necromancer at full speed. Thompson dropped the chicken and turned with a snarl, raising one hand, palm out, and growling a word of power.
Trifles and Folly Page 6