by Lee French
Fate wanted him to see Corwin’s stone and face his own memories. Most of the time, he kept them successfully buried under a load of better ones from the more recent past. Staying busy helped a great deal. “We’re here about witches, not demons,” he muttered to himself.
Tariel’s ears flicked back, but she said nothing. They crossed the grounds, passing statues and urns, standing stones and flat ones. People pointed at the pair. Justin forced himself to wave in response. His mood soured more when he saw the bronze soldier holding a furled flag atop an obelisk displaying memorial plaques.
On those steps, his father had shoved him against the words carved into the stone pedestal and asked him if he wanted to be a soldier. At the time, Justin did. He saw no future for himself and thought dying for his country would be better than what he dealt with every day.
“Then I met Marie,” he reminded himself. She’d put light back into his life. “To the left,” he said to Tariel.
Under his direction, the horse pushed between a pair of firs. Trees had been allowed to grow around the edges of this plot, forming a room of sorts. Stepping in here felt like entering a small church.
Dwight had been immune to the tranquility. Justin climbed off Tariel’s back and forced away the memory of this place. He paced past a row of stones decorated with angels and fierce horses to Corwin’s. Befitting a laborer who’d married well, his stone displayed only the basic facts of his life, carved in a plain font and weathering away. The man had died in 1893 at the age of twenty-four.
A shiver ran down Justin’s spine. He hadn’t remembered Corwin’s age. His fingers traced the letters, pausing at Beloved Husband and Father. The parallels bothered him. For all he knew, Corwin had been a Knight who died doing that job instead of the one everyone thought.
He imagined snake shadows chasing Corwin up the docks until he stopped to face them where no normal people would get hurt. The shadows surrounded him. One discovered the weakness of his armor. The rest piled on. Though Corwin managed to destroy them all, the last took too great a toll, and he collapsed. Instead of falling in the street, Corwin fell into the water and drowned.
“Jacqueline Whidby is on the other side of this stone.”
Startled out of his near-dream, Justin looked up to see Tariel peering at back of the stone. “What?” He shifted to read the back. The top line read Jacqueline Whidby. Under that, the name Evans had been carved on a separate line. He must have seen it on the other visit and not thought about her much. She’d died in 1951, noted as a mother, grandmother, and angel. At the bottom, it had a round symbol made of oddly familiar whorls edged with dots.
“I have to knock over my own ancestor’s grave?”
Tariel tossed her head in the closest approximation of a shrug she could give. “Maybe there’s another Jacqueline Whidby. This one has the wrong year.”
“No. It’s this one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Kurt had given him that name with that date, which meant he knew. Maybe he thought Justin would balk with all the information from the start. In fairness, he probably would have, if for no other reason than to avoid looking at the next stone over and seeing the spot his skull had been cracked against once upon a time.
“Let’s get this over with.” Defiling the grave felt wrong. For a stranger, he’d kick the stone down and do what he needed to do. For Corwin, he gripped the top of the stone and rocked it back and forth in the damp ground. When he thought he could, he crouched and grasped the sides. It came loose, and he set it aside.
He stood and drew his sword. With the tip resting in the furrow once occupied by the stone, he closed his eyes. “I hope you’re not watching. If you are, I hope you understand.” This situation screamed of wrongness to him. He opened his eyes and plunged the sword into the ground anyway. From the earth came a strange sound: one part moaning, one part creaking, one part whistling. Justin clenched his jaw and dragged the hilt across the shallow ditch.
Wind blasted him. The noise grew louder. Streaks of misty blue and gray streamed upward. Leaves flew off the ground to swirl around him and fly into the sky with the strange streaks. The trees bent away and the grass flattened. Force slammed into Justin from both sides and lifted him into the air. He screamed and thought he’d explode.
Everything stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Justin fell on top of Corwin’s headstone with a thud and a groan. Panting, he rolled to his side and saw Tariel had fallen over again.
“This magical backlash crap is harsh,” he croaked.
“I’m going to lie down next time.”
“Good plan.”
Chapter 22
Claire
Still not sure she ought to trust the thing possessing Drew, Claire only tucked her dagger out of sight when she saw the bus pulling up. She grabbed his raincoat and forced him onto the bus in front of her. They swiped their passes and moved to the back.
“When do I get Drew back? Because this is about him, not you.”
Drew covered his face and leaned forward in the seat. He groaned and took a deep breath. “This sucks.”
She touched his back tentatively, afraid he’d reject her. “It could be worse. I’m not sure how, but there’s probably a way.”
He sat up again and leaned against the window. “I guess I’m in the club now. Does your team have jackets?”
Draping her arm over his shoulders, Claire managed a weak smile. “No, just armor and cloaks. I don’t think you’ll be a Knight, though. Not with a ghost puff copilot.”
“That’s fine. I wouldn’t want to be one. Too much running and whacking things with swords.” He unzipped his coat and found a dry spot to clean his glasses. “What’s the plan?”
“We need to find Justin and figure out how to explain what happened to you so he doesn’t cut your head off. I think he’ll listen.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me. We need to go to a house in the Lents neighborhood in Portland. That’s where we met—” He shook his head. “That ghost isn’t my grandfather. He says he is, and Justin believes it, but he’s not. I’ve seen pictures of both my grandfathers when they were young, and he doesn’t look even close to either.”
Claire rubbed her temple. “Great. This just gets better. Justin is being lied to, and he’s too dumb to realize it. The guy needs a keeper or something. Where was this?”
“Near a wildlife refuge. The woman who lives there is named Anne.”
“Wait. What? Was she wearing a lot of tie-dye? With green glasses?”
“Yeah. Justin said Anne is his sister-in-law.”
Enion perked up. “Home?”
“Sounds like it,” Claire said. “Were there a ton of little dragons? Like Enion?”
“Yeah, actually. Huh. We went there and he introduced me to Kurt.” Drew screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t really remember a lot of that conversation or what came after. I think that’s where I was possessed.”
“So the other guy in there should know.” Claire tapped on the side of his head. “Cough it up, spirit.”
“Ow.” Drew shied away and rubbed the spot she’d prodded. “It’s not like a light switch.”
“Can you talk to him inside your head? Without switching, I mean. Just ask him questions mentally. That sort of thing.”
Drew took a deep breath and covered his face. He stayed that way for a long time, whimpering randomly. Claire turned her attention to Enion, stroking her thumb across his skin. She wished he could be big all the time. Being able to switch back and forth would be even better. When she needed to get someplace, she could ride a dragon. Walking around and at school, she could keep him in a backpack or pocket, or wear him around her neck.
The bus trundled across the I-205 bridge, taking them into Portland. Through the window to the west, Claire saw storm clouds swirling. The sight reminded her of Iulia’s story, and she watched while something bluish-gray streamed up from the ground. The beam or bolt—or whatever it was—impa
cted the clouds and spread out with sparks of lightning.
“That can’t be good,” she muttered.
“Scary,” Enion agreed.
The clouds dispersed. Claire leaned back in her seat and compared the two events. If there really were clusters of five seals all over the world, there could be one in Portland. It’d be all old things, she supposed, or maybe other Knights had come through later and integrated the seals into more recent objects. Otherwise, a lot of them probably would’ve been accidentally destroyed during construction projects. She wondered what would happen if a bulldozer hit a seal. Maybe nothing, or maybe something.
Drew sucked in a sharp breath. “Ugh. That sucked. Yeah, I can talk to him, but I kind of have to do a thing where I’m here without being here. He thinks it’ll get easier with practice, and eventually we’ll be able to chat without much effort. For now, you pretty much get him or me, and the switching is…harsh.”
“Good to know. I think we should go check something out that just happened over there.” She pointed out the window. “It was a ways away, so there probably won’t be anything to see when we get there, but it seems more important than just tracking Justin down. He might even be headed there to check it out himself.”
“How do we figure out where it happened?”
Claire patted Enion. “You could find it, couldn’t you? That was definitely magic going on, and you’re practically made of that.”
The tiny dragon sat up and rubbed under his chin. “Easier to find magic as it happens.”
“Do your best.” The bus left the freeway and turned east. Claire reached up and tugged on the line to request the next stop.
Enion bobbed his head. “My best is best!”
As soon as the bus stopped, they stepped off and headed west. Claire looped her arm through Drew’s, partly to keep him moving and partly to keep him close. She wanted to jog, but knew he’d never be able to keep up with her. They walked at a brisk pace.
About twenty minutes later, as they passed a big parking lot on Stark Street, Drew pointed to the southwest. Clouds gathered in the distance, farther away than before. They came together in a swirl.
“Whatever’s going on, it’s not about a single location.” Now it seemed even more likely someone was breaking seals around Portland. Claire scooped Enion off her shoulder. “You can fly pretty fast. We’re going to hop on a bus and go to Anne’s house to see what we can figure out. You go check out that storm. Meet us back at your old home.”
“Count on me!” Enion jumped out of her hands and flapped away.
Claire swung Drew around and watched for a bus stop. “Any ideas what that is?”
“No,” Drew said. “None.”
“Great.”
“Justin is probably already dealing with it.”
Claire sighed and saw a bus coming up the street. She grabbed Drew’s sleeve and ran with him to catch it. The second she planted her butt in a seat, she wondered why Justin hadn’t brought her along. He didn’t know what had happened in the Palace yet…unless he did. Somehow.
In the Thoroughfare, though she’d been nearly senseless, she knew she’d attracted quite a crowd. The odds of Elder Yun walking past by coincidence seemed low. If major events, like the death of a Knight, were somehow transmitted through the link all Knights had to the Palace, Justin would already know the basics. He might suspect her involvement. After all, Yun sent someone to find him.
Djembe leaped to the conclusion she’d caused Rondy’s death. Justin could have too. They weren’t even wrong. He died because she failed. He’d taken the blow meant for her. Arrogance had been her downfall, so Caius had said. The brazen audacity of thinking she could handle such a difficult, nonessential task had killed Rondy.
She wished she could have said something to him before he died. Rondy deserved that touching moment on the cusp of death people always seemed to get in the movies. Though she hadn’t been able to conjure anything profound at the time, she would’ve liked a chance to let him know she cared. Having known him for such a short time, he might not have known. She certainly never took a minute to say anything.
Whenever she saw Justin again, she needed to say something. He deserved it even more than Rondy did. If she’d died instead of Rondy, Justin and Marie both would’ve been left without knowing how much they already meant to her.
Glancing at Drew, she realized she’d barely told him that sort of thing too. For another minute or so, she tried to imagine how to word it. Maybe she’d forgotten how to say things like that.
“I…” The thing between them had no proper name. Drew wasn’t her boyfriend and he wasn’t her brother. He’d been there in dark moments. He’d saved her life a few times, and she’d returned the favor.
For now, she gave up on words and took his hand in hers.
The corners of his mouth ticked up, and he squeezed her hand.
Chapter 23
Claire
Claire held Drew’s hand as they walked from the bus stop to Anne’s house. It felt like her first visit had been an eon ago, but nothing had changed that she could see. For good measure, they passed the house to check on the dragons. Two dozen or so perched on branches and rocks, chirping and trilling to each other. They ignored her and Drew completely.
“Nice to see they’re fine,” Drew said.
“Yeah. It’s so weird, though, that they were bound at Anne’s house. With Kurt here someplace too, it seems like some kind of ball of crazy going on. I wish I knew more about how magic works.”
Drew looked around and rubbed his arm through his raincoat, as if he’d suddenly gotten a chill. “C’mon, let’s talk to Anne. She might know something.”
They returned to the house and knocked. Anne opened the door and seemed surprised to see them. “Hi there. If you’re looking for Justin, he’s not here.”
“Oh. That’s okay,” Claire said. “You can probably help us. Can we come inside?”
Anne’s gaze flicked to Drew. “What for?”
It hadn’t occurred to Claire to think of a reason for Anne to let them inside. If Justin asked, she’d probably let him in, no questions asked. She and Drew were random kids to Anne and nothing more. “It’s about the dragons.”
“What about them?”
“Well, um, one of them kind of adopted me. He’s off flying right now, but maybe you remember I left with one on my shoulder earlier?”
Again, Anne looked to Drew. “And what does that have to do with coming inside?”
“I’d like some advice about how to take care of him.” When Anne frowned, Claire added, “Also, probably Justin and Marie haven’t said anything yet, but they adopted me a few weeks ago. That makes you my aunt. I heard you’re coming over to the house tomorrow, so I’m sure everything can wait, but we’re down here anyway, and it takes forever to get home on the bus, so while we’re here, I thought maybe we could chat.”
“Really. Huh.” Anne glanced at Drew yet again and shrugged. She pushed the screen door open. “All right. You can at least dry off for a bit, I suppose.”
Claire stepped inside and took in all the crystals and doilies. At the open doorway into a living room, she reached up and poked a thick amethyst in a silver wire basket dangling from a nail in the molding. The pendant swung back and forth, catching the hallway light.
“This stuff is cool.”
“Thank you.” Anne led them into the living room and patted the floral print couch for them. She sat in a matching wingback armchair.
Nervous about saying the wrong thing, Claire kept her grip on Drew. “How long have you lived here?”
“Several years. The dragons moved in shortly after.” Anne crossed her legs and laced her fingers over her lap. “They’re quite easy to look after. For the most part, I toss birdseed out for them once a week, and they do the rest. I haven’t noticed any particular diseases bothering them.”
Claire nodded, trying to think of questions to ask about dragons when she really wanted to know why Anne kept looking at D
rew like she expected him to say something. “Mine’s going to be a house pet, I guess. Do you know what they like to sleep on, or if they like to scratch things up like cats do?”
“I’ve seen them rooting in dirt, though I think they do that for food. I’d recommend letting yours stay outside as much as he wants.” Anne looked to Drew again. “Are you okay?” Her interest didn’t seem to come from concern, and her gaze reminded Claire of a teacher waiting for a student to answer an easy question.
“Me?” Drew let go of Claire and crossed his arms. “I’m fine, I guess.”
Anne’s face twitched as if she didn’t believe him. “Are you sure?”
Claire looked from one to the other, not sure what to make of Anne. “Do you know him?”
“We met this morning, certainly.” Anne slid to the edge of her chair, still fixing Drew with a pointed, anticipatory stare. “I think I’d like tea. Can I bring you a cup?”
“Uh.” Drew shifted and looked away from her. “No thanks. I’m good.”
Claire opened her mouth to ask for a cup, but Anne bolted from the room. “I guess not,” Claire said, too quiet to be overheard. Leaning closer to Drew, she murmured, “She’s kind of weird. Justin said she is, but I thought he meant…something different.”
“Yeah. I don’t like her. We should go. Coming here was a mistake.”
“Where do you think we should go? Wander the city until we accidentally wind up in the right place at the right time?”
“I don’t know. I’d just rather be someplace else.”
Claire bounced her feet, trying to think. As a Knight, she should be investigating and dealing with crazy stuff. Without training, she barely knew what to look for. Justin probably had all kinds of tips and tricks to share, if he ever decided to move beyond making her run, chop wood, and dodge old socks. What little he’d taught her about fighting so far had only bolstered her already robust self-defense skills.