by R. L. King
“How is Poppy?” Stone glanced over at the medium; she still appeared unconscious, but some of the gray pallor had receded from her face. They’d covered her with the patchwork quilt Aubrey kept over the back of his sofa.
“She’ll be okay, I think. I healed the physical damage, and she’s sleeping. But her mental defenses were tough. I think hers, combined with ours, made it so whatever that thing was didn’t get in very far before we kicked it out. What was that thing, anyway? Do you have any idea?”
They were all looking at him now—even Aubrey, who’d come back bearing a tray full of steaming teacups and a plate of cookies and crackers.
They all think you have the answers, he thought with dismay.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve got no idea. I don’t think it was one of the echoes, though.” He accepted a cup from Aubrey’s tray, but didn’t touch the cookies.
“Why not?” Jason asked. “Whatever it was, it seemed pretty pissed.”
“Because it clearly had strong magical ability. Echoes can do a lot of things, as we’ve seen—they can affect the physical world, if sufficiently motivated. Some of them can even possess living beings, as we saw with Raider and Dr. Benchley.”
“Wait, what now?” Eddie asked, tilting his head. “Somethin’ possessed your cat and you didn’t bother to tell us about it?”
“Some other time, Eddie,” Stone said quickly. “At any rate—Poppy’s mental defenses are formidable. I could see that, and they’d have to be for her to do what she does. Possessing a fully-trained mage with a specialty in mental techniques would be a hell of a lot harder than popping into a cat.”
“Fair enough,” Ward said. “Are you suggesting your ancestors interred a powerful mage down there?”
“The sealed chamber,” Eddie said, his expression growing suddenly grim. “Whatever it is, either it broke out on its own or somebody broke it out. You think that’s what it was?”
Stone shrugged. “That was my hypothesis, yes. But all that does is bring up more questions. If the plans were correct and that chamber wasn’t constructed until some later date, after the tunnels were dug and the foundation sacrifice was made, then what was in there, and why? And if the chamber was constructed at the same time but kept from the plans, there had to be a reason for that too.”
“Yeah…” Ian said, rubbing his jaw. “And it sounds like even if Poppy was willing to give it a try, talking to that thing probably isn’t a good idea.”
“No, probably not. Which means we need to find another way to figure out what the hell it is and what it’s doing there.” He turned to Eddie and Ward. “You two made extensive sketches of the walls inside that chamber, and what’s left of the door. You have bits and pieces of the destroyed part, and both of the books from the box. Do you think those will be enough to get started with some research? Even if we can’t get the whole story, maybe we can get some of it.”
“Sure, mate,” Eddie said. “We’ll get started tomorrow. Can Poppy stay here tonight if she’s not ready to—”
“Oh, I’m ready,” came a voice from the other side of the room.
Everyone turned. Poppy had propped herself against her pillows and was now half-sitting up. “I’m definitely ready. But first I’d love a cup o’ that tea, if you’ve got one. With something a bit stronger in it, if you’ve got that.”
Stone hurried over to her. She still looked pale and tired, her Mohawk still drooping dejectedly to one side and her makeup smeared, but some of the spark had returned to her green eyes and her voice sounded stronger. “I am so sorry…” he began. “Poppy, please forgive me. If I’d known—”
She waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, luv. It happens sometimes, even in situations where there’s only one or two echoes.” She shuddered. “But blimey, whatever that thing was there at the end, it packed a punch.” Her gaze settled on Stone as she carefully took a cup of tea from Aubrey. “And I’ll tell you this, too—I didn’t get much from it, unfortunately, but I did get one thing, loud and clear.”
“What’s that?” Stone wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“It hates you. I mean, really hates you. Makes the rest of those tossers back there look like a bunch of kids playin’ at bein’ spooks.”
21
An hour later, Aubrey’s apartment felt much quieter and more subdued.
Eddie and Ward had left through the portal a short time ago, taking Poppy with them.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Stone asked before she departed. “I feel dreadful about this. If you’ve got any doubt—”
She patted his arm. “No, luv, no. I’ll be fine. Just got a bit of a headache, but that’s normal. You’re the one who should be careful. You’ve got quite the infestation on your hands, and I’m just sorry I can’t be more help with it.”
Stone didn’t even consider asking her to try again, and she didn’t sound as if she wanted to anyway. “I’m grateful for what you did do, and I completely understand.”
He’d paid her handsomely, nearly twice what she’d originally asked for, which had gone a long way toward cheering her up. “Let me know what happens, if you can,” she said. “I’ll be curious to know what that nasty thing ends up being.”
“If I can,” he’d agreed, knowing full well he didn’t intend to share anything else, no matter what he found.
“Take care, mate,” Eddie said. He carried a large bag stuffed full of the pieces from the broken door. Ward had a similar satchel containing the journal, the ledger, and the notebooks where they’d made sketches of the sigils and symbols on the chamber walls. “We’ll get a few hours’ kip and then start right in on this first thing tomorrow. We’ll give you a ring if we get anything.”
And then they were gone, disappeared through the portal. Stone trudged back up to Aubrey’s apartment, throwing himself down on the couch with a stiff shot of Scotch the caretaker had poured for him when he’d turned down more tea.
“So,” he said. “Here we are.”
“Yeah.” Verity sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “What do we do now?”
“Now? Eddie’s got the right idea: we get some sleep. If you lot are half as tired as I am, any decisions we make tonight will be rubbish anyway.” Stone wondered if he’d even be able to sleep with all the mad thoughts running through his mind, but he at least needed to try. This wasn’t the kind of stuff you wanted to take chances with, running on liquor fumes and the ragged edge of exhaustion.
“Where are we gonna do that?” Jason looked around Aubrey’s sitting room. “Sleep on the floor here? Or go through the portal to London or back home?” He didn’t look too thrilled about that latter suggestion.
“No.” Stone stood and finished off his drink. “I’m not, at least. I’m going to sleep in my own bedroom.”
They all gaped at him. “Your own bedroom, sir?” Aubrey asked. “At the house? But—”
“But nothing. You all heard Eddie and Ward: the echoes have given us safe passage until sunrise tomorrow morning. I plan to hold them to that. I’ll get a couple hours’ sleep, then use the rest of the time to rescue a few things from my library, just in case we can’t get back in again.”
“What about that other thing?” Ian asked. “The one that attacked Poppy?”
Stone shrugged. “I’m not bothered about it. That séance was set up specifically to be receptive to communication from the spirit world, and Poppy was particularly sensitive to that sort of thing. Also, you might not have noticed, but I did: the other echoes didn’t like that thing any more than we did. They don’t want it there. I’m certain we drove it off. I doubt we destroyed it, but we did hurt it. And I suspect the echoes will join forces to keep it out as long as they can. Especially since they don’t have to waste their energy having a go at us until tomorrow.”
“Doc, are you sure—” Verity began. She looked troubled.
“Subject’s closed.” Stone set the glass on the table. “You lot can stay here or go back to London if you l
ike. But I’ll be damned if some ectoplasmic wanker who doesn’t even have a dog in this race is going to keep me out of my own house.”
They all exchanged glances, and then Ian’s gaze hardened. “Okay, then. If you’re staying, so am I.”
“Us too,” Verity said, nodding toward Jason. “I don’t think we’d be in any danger either way, though. The echoes don’t care about us. And we’re not leaving you alone in that place.”
“Are you sure?” Stone asked, touched by their courage and their loyalty. “I’m willing to take this risk for myself, but—”
“Like you said, subject’s closed,” Jason insisted.
“We can even help you with your library tomorrow,” Verity said. “You can get more stuff out if we help carry it.”
“Let’s go, though,” Ian said, looking at his watch. “If we don’t get up there soon, there won’t even be any point in trying to sleep, and we might as well just start on the library now.”
“Right, then. Aubrey, do you need any help cleaning up before we leave?”
“No, sir. I think I’ll head to bed too, and tidy up in the morning.” He took a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for something. “Would…you like me to accompany you as well?”
“To the house?” Even more than before, a warm feeling of pride struck Stone. He truly didn’t deserve friends this loyal. “No, Aubrey,” he said gently. “No. You don’t need to be part of any of this. You just get yourself a good night’s sleep and we’ll talk about our next steps tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Stone didn’t miss the relief in the old man’s voice. Aubrey would bravely stand, shoulders squared and shotgun at the ready, between Stone and any mundane threat with the audacity to come after him, but even after all these years, he’d never grown fully comfortable around the supernatural world. Stone shielded him from it as much as possible, and regretted that he’d been unable to do that in this case.
“Good night,” he said. “With any luck, we’ll all get a good, restful sleep and we’ll have clearer minds in the morning.”
22
Stone entered the house first, half expecting something to start flinging furniture at him when he stepped back over the threshold, but nothing did. The aura remained green and pulsing—the echoes were clearly still there, and probably watching, but as yet they kept their agreement and didn’t attempt to prevent him or Ian from entering.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll need to clear out of here before sunrise—at least Ian and I will.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s one-thirty now, so to be safe that gives us three hours. Ian, please show Jason to the room next door to yours. Verity, you know where your usual is. I’m planning to set an alarm for two hours so I’ve got time to gather a few things before we go back to Aubrey’s. I’ll see you all soon. Good luck getting some sleep.”
Verity lingered behind as Ian and Jason trooped upstairs. “You really want me to sleep in my old bedroom?” she asked with an amused smile.
Despite everything that had happened tonight, he had to return the smile. He’d hoped she’d say that, but had no intention of asking. “Well…not particularly, to be honest. But no point in waving the fact in front of your brother.”
“You really want to sleep?” she asked with a sly, sidelong glance. She took his hand and started up the stairs.
“We should…”
“Yeah, I know we should. But that’s not what I asked you.”
“What about the echoes?” He allowed her to lead him upstairs and down the hall to his suite. Ian’s and Jason’s doors along the way were already closed.
“What about them? They can watch if they want to. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Well…if you put it that way…” A twinge of guilt made him hesitate, but for once he shoved it aside. “I’m glad you’re here, Verity,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “You’re making a horrible situation…a bit less horrible.”
“Only a bit?” But her smile was understanding as she led him into his suite.
He found he couldn’t sleep afterward—not entirely, anyway—but being with Verity did relax him enough that he dozed, drifting along on the afterglow of their time together. Even though it ended up being more about taking comfort from each other than the actual lovemaking, the guilt tried to poke its head up again: what right did he have to experience pleasure in the middle of all this pain and misery? But once again he submerged it. Yes, he’d have to figure out a way to atone for his ancestors’ sins—but they weren’t his sins.
The echoes seemed not to object, or at least if they did, they didn’t do anything about it. Stone tightened his arm around the sleeping Verity, and she snuggled into his shoulder with a contented little mumble.
Far away, a faint sound broke the house’s silence.
Stone tensed, sitting up a little in bed. He’d left his watch on and looked at it now: three-fifty a.m. He still had almost half an hour before the alarm he’d set would go off.
Had he heard something at all, or had he dropped off to sleep without realizing it and dreamed it? It was certainly possible, given the night’s events.
Next to him, Verity muttered a vague question and snuggled in closer, her arm draped over his chest.
He stroked her back. “Go to sleep. It’s nothing.”
He almost believed it—but then came another sound, too faint and distant to identify. It almost sounded like some small item crashing to the floor and breaking.
Stone sat up further, looking around with magical sight. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. It was odd that he’d heard anything; his suite was at the end of the hall on the second floor of the west wing, and the substantial closed door should have blocked out anything that wasn’t nearby.
Idly, he shifted to magical sight again, figuring the same eerie green glow would still be present in the room.
The glow was still there, and it was still green—but now it was a different green. Sicklier, with a yellow cast that wasn’t there before. The change was subtle, but he didn’t miss it.
“What’s wrong…?” Verity mumbled.
“I’m not sure. Probably nothing. Stay here.” He extricated himself from beneath her arm and sat up, using magic to pick up his jeans from the floor.
He was almost certainly being paranoid. The echoes had showed no sign of breaking their agreement. If he had heard a noise, it was probably Jason getting up to use the bathroom and knocking something over in the unfamiliar house. But still, it couldn’t hurt to take a quick look around. He pulled his jeans on, shivering a bit as the cool air hit his skin. Even in the mid-summer, this place never really got warm without cranking the heaters and lighting the fireplaces, and they hadn’t done either of those things.
Stone crossed the room to the door and eased it open, peering out. The dim sconces revealed nothing but the other closed doors along the hallway.
Another crash sounded, faint but louder. It sounded as if it had come from downstairs, perhaps in the great room. A second later, he heard something scrabbling at the stone floor.
What the hell—?
“What is it?” Verity whispered from directly behind him, making him jump.
“Don’t do that!”
“Did you hear something?” She’d hastily pulled on her T-shirt and jeans.
“I think so. I was about to go check.”
“I’ll come with you.”
There was no point in trying to convince her to remain in the room, so he didn’t bother. “It’s probably nothing, but—”
This time, the crash was loud and unmistakable, followed once again by the scrabbling sound.
Stone and Verity exchanged grim glances. “Come on,” Stone said. “We need to wake the others. Something’s going on down there.”
“Should we just get out? Go back to Aubrey’s place again until morning?”
“I want to see—”
Downstairs, glass shattered.
“Bloody hell!” Stone snapped. “You
get Jason. I’ll get Ian.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond, but instead strode down the hallway and pounded on his son’s door. “Ian! Wake up!”
The door flung open, revealing Ian dressed only in black boxer briefs. His hair was tousled and he looked as if he’d just awakened. “Dad? What time is it? What’s going on?”
“Not sure yet.” Another crash punctuated his words, followed by more glass breaking.
Across the hall, Jason emerged, looking equally disheveled and gripping his baseball bat. Like Stone, he wore only his jeans. He and Verity quickly joined the group. “What’s happening?” he demanded. “Are the ghosts back?”
“Something’s back,” Stone said. “Not sure what it is, but I’m about to go check.”
“Shouldn’t we—” Verity began.
Downstairs, it sounded like someone had pulled one of the bookcases over.
Stone didn’t wait any longer. He took off at a run toward the staircase, stopping at the top and scanning the area below with magical sight. No lights were on down there, but if any living beings were present, their auras should glow bright and clear.
At first, he thought what he saw was auras—auras of the same sickly green as the glow suffusing the house. Whatever they were, there were a lot of them, their forms humanoid but not quite human.
Next to him, Verity gasped. “Doc…” Her voice shook.
“You see them too?”
“Yeah.” She spoke barely above a whisper.
“See what?” Jason demanded. “Somebody turn a damn light on.”
Unlike the others, he’d spoken in a normal tone, fear making it sharp.
Downstairs, the closest of the shuffling humanoid figures stopped at the sound of his voice. In unison, they all turned toward it, their heads swiveling upward to lock in on it.
Only then did Stone get a good look at them, and an icewater rush of terror shot up through his body.
“Shit…” Ian muttered next to him. “Are those—”