Ghost Light (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective)

by E.J. Stevens

  “Ivy Granger, princess, daughter of Will-o’-the-Wisp, king of the wisps,” it said. “And…”

  Ceff leaned forward and whispered something to the bird-like fae.

  “And her consort Ceffyl Dŵr, king of the kelpies,” it said. “And vassal.”

  Consort? Ceff had made our courtship official. A small, pleased smile touched my lips. Before I could turn to say anything to Ceff, the phoenix burst into flame. The crowd clapped as ash sifted over their heads like macabre confetti.

  So much for making a discreet entrance.

  Music began to play and the buzz of conversation filled the air. Dancers returned to the dance floor, but many fae continued to watch the three of us make our way down the spiral staircase. I made a mental note of who seemed the most openly interested and where they were located within the club.

  It would have been better to have had a schematic of the place to work with, but I’d taken in the basic layout as we made our entrance. The club was laid out in a circular, spiral pattern. I used the large bar, stocked with bottles of glowing liquids, to orient myself.

  When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I strode through the crowd, holding my chin high. A sea of dancers parted to make way for the two royals and their human vassal. My shoulder blades itched, feeling the eyes of strangers at my back, but I continued on toward the velvet ropes I’d seen from above.

  I flipped my hair over my shoulder and stole a quick glance at my companions. Ceff looked like a man in his element. We may not have been at sea, but Ceff was used to large, royal audiences. His role as kelpie king often meant lengthy negotiations with both enemy and allied faerie delegations and the mandatory attendance of fae social functions. Ceff moved through the crowd with the strength, grace, and confidence of a champion race horse.

  Jinx matched Ceff’s posture though her eyes were wide and the knuckles of the hand holding the strap of her weapons bag were white. More than one fae leaned in closer for a better look or sniff, as if they were at a wine tasting and testing Jinx’s vintage. I don’t know how she tolerated the behavior.

  If it had been me, I might have staked them all with iron. Thankfully, my princess status demanded space—either that or I still smelled of rotting ghoul guts. The crowd of fae continued to part before me, allowing me to move unhindered. A trickle of sweat ran down my back, but I took a calming breath and tried not to think of the potential threat of nightmare visions from so many immortals.

  I managed to walk confidently across the room, but by the time we reached the roped off stairs my skin had begun to glow. If I’d been on the city streets, I’d have worried. But I was in a faerie club and had come out of the proverbial closet. For once, I didn’t care about my glowing skin. Let them stare.

  I narrowed my eyes at the two bouncers guarding access to the upper level. A griffin stood to the right of the stairs and a boggart to my left, one light fae and one dark. I suppose in a club filled with both Seelie and Unseelie fae, it made sense to have both sides equally represented by security.

  I addressed both of the bouncers, but since wisps are tied to the Unseelie court, I turned slightly toward the boggart. The creature was ugly, hairy, and smelly. Its hair was so greasy, you could use it to fuel a lamp for weeks, but I gave it my best smile.

  “Ivy Granger, wisp princess, Ceffyl Dŵr, kelpie king, and our human vassal to see Sir Torn,” I said.

  The boggart raised his spear, but the griffin nodded and swept the rope aside. The boggart looked disappointed. I hadn’t made a friend there. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried smiling at the creature. I strode up the wide steps before the griffin could change his mind.

  “Would you prefer I do the talking from now on?” Ceff asked.

  “No,” I said.

  Jinx giggled and Ceff shrugged. I turned left at the top of the stairs and started scanning the booths for cat sidhe, ignoring them both. I knew deep down that Ceff was more qualified to do the talking. He was handsome, charming, and skilled at negotiating with fae from both courts. But this was my gig. The parents of those children had come to me for help, not the kelpie king. It was my responsibility to bring them home.

  Bodyguards watched us intently and fingered their weapons as we sauntered along the curved walkway, though so far none had impeded our circuit. I hoped to keep it that way. As much as I wanted to run from booth to booth yelling for Torn, an altercation would only delay us further. I kept my hands out where the guards could see them and didn’t make any quick, threatening motions.

  We moved silently as we passed a trio of centaur guards, my boots sinking deeply into thick, spongy moss. Each section of the upper tier contained a magical microenvironment suited to the fae who were there for both business and pleasure. These microcosms spilled out onto the adjacent walkway, creating a number of potential hazards. So far we’d encountered flames, ooze, ice, and deadly looking insects, but not one cat—until now.

  A small cat sidhe watched us from the shadow of a huge, elephant-ear shaped fern. The cat was taking a chance exploring outside cat sidhe territory, but you know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.

  “Cat sidhe at two o’clock,” I whispered.

  Ceff nodded and Jinx gave me a thumbs up. I eased my way slowly toward the fern, pretending to admire the foliage. I didn’t want to scare the cat sidhe, or give his location away to the nearby guards.

  “This fern is beautiful,” I said. “It looks just like an ear, but I’m actually searching for one that’s Torn.”

  I flicked my eyes at the cat and winked. The cat sidhe blinked at me and tilted its head. Apparently, I had its attention.

  “Ah, look, I found some Ivy,” I said.

  There wasn’t any ivy in sight, but the centaur guards didn’t notice. With my hand shielded by my body, I pointed to myself when I said my name. Hopefully the cat sidhe could let Sir Torn know I was here. Or better yet, take me to him.

  The cat sidhe’s body faded away replaced my flickering shadows. It stepped out from under the giant fern and trotted back the way we came. I narrowed my eyes at the shadow cat and sighed. I just hoped it wasn’t leading us on a wild goose, or cat, chase.

  I turned and followed, though the cat sidhe was difficult to see even with my second sight. If I hadn’t already known it was there, it could have passed by unseen. I kept my eyes on the cat sidhe, careful not to lose its whereabouts.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about dangers underfoot. The cat always seemed to know the best path, and following in its footsteps took less time than our previous trip. Where a realm of ice overlapped with a slime coated cave, the cat sidhe turned left.

  It padded over to a section of ice covered stone and winked out of sight. I gasped and hurried toward where it last stood. Ceff and Jinx followed, looking at me quizzically.

  “It disappeared right here,” I said, pointing at a solid wall of stone.

  “Dude, this isn’t a Heinlein novel, cats don’t walk through walls,” Jinx said.

  “Maybe, in this case, they do,” Ceff said.

  He ran his hands over ice and stone, reaching into every notch and crevice. After a moment he smiled, finding what he was searching for.

  “There’s an opening here,” he said.

  Ceff stepped to his left and…disappeared. My heart sped up and I reached for my knives, but before they hit my palms, Ceff had reappeared. He waved his arm into an invisible entrance, the limb seeming to vanish.

  Ah, there was a gap in the overlapping stone leaving the illusion of a solid wall with an entrance large enough for us to walk through single file. I couldn’t see more than a foot inside, but I nodded. Cat sidhe are creatures of shadow and mystery. It made sense that the entrance to the club’s representation of their world would be dark and hidden.

  Ceff ducked back inside, Jinx at his heels. The cat sidhe had passed through this entrance. Hopefully, Sir Torn would be on the other side. I took one last look at the club and turned to follow my friends through the nearly invisible door.
/>   I just hoped the exit wasn’t as difficult to find.

  Chapter 20

  We slipped through the hidden doorway, leaving the ice behind. The cold of the frozen area of the club was replaced by warm, humid air as I stepped into the dark. Claws tapped on pavement and I tensed as shapes began to take form.

  Fae blood gave both Ceff and me excellent night vision. Jinx wasn’t so lucky. I heard her voice whisper shakily.

  “Ivy?” she asked. “Remember when we agreed not to have strangers over to the loft? Well, I think this is a good time to tell you about this guy I let sleep over a few nights ago. I know you’re always worried about visions, so you may not want to use your toothbrush.”

  My leather gloves creaked as I curled my hands into tight fists. Was this some kind of evil twist on deathbed confessions? If it was, I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t have time for an argument, but when this was all over, Jinx and I were going to have a serious talk.

  My skin started to glow, pushing back the shadows.

  “Your friend is clever,” Ceff said.

  Jinx turned to me and shrugged.

  “Not all of us have superhuman see-in-the-dark powers,” she said. “I had to improvise.”

  I shook my head. Jinx was something all right.

  I looked around the room, though room may not have been the correct word. We stood in an alley with what looked like night sky overhead, smog blocking out the stars. The narrow space was filled with crates, barrels, and boxes that hundreds of cats of every shape and size lounged atop, leaving no surface clear of watchful eyes.

  In the far corner a familiar cat sidhe with scar-lined fur sat on a large, overturned wood spool. The spool was the industrial type used for transporting wire. Someone had flipped it on its side like a makeshift, ghetto-style table. The cat sidhe perched atop the spool and lazily licked his paw, unbothered by our sudden appearance.

  I stepped toward the scarred cat sidhe, but several cats jumped down and hissed, blocking my path. The cat sidhe stopped licking his paw and sighed. He stood and arched his back, letting out a low keening cry. The fur along his back began to ripple, replaced by skin, shadow, and black leather.

  Darkness enveloped the cat and when the shadows dissipated, a handsome man sat with one leg dangling over the edge of the table. One arm leaned on a leather-clad knee and a half smile quirked his lips. We had found Sir Torn, lord of the cat sidhe.

  Like many fae, the cat sidhe lord was easy on the eyes, but he lacked the perfection which so many high bloods prized. In his human guise, Torn was as damaged as he was beautiful.

  Torn retained the multitude of scars I’d first noticed when he was in cat form. The faerie’s face was dominated by a large, ragged scar that ran through his left brow, eyelid, and across the bridge of his nose. Additional scars crisscrossed both arms, but these were nothing compared to the damage sustained by his ears. Even in human form, the cat sidhe’s left ear was filled with holes and his right ear was nothing more than a lump of scar tissue.

  Instead of hiding these battle scars, Torn had embraced his imperfections. He’d adorned the many holes in his ears with bone and feather piercings, perhaps trophies from his kills. Fur, bone, and feathers also decorated the leather vest, pants, and boots that he wore. The look suited him in a wild, roguish, Beyond Thunderdome kind of way.

  Torn flicked his remaining ear in a move that was completely inhuman, a signal for the cats to stand down. With a swish of tails the cats spun away and returned to the shadows. Torn gestured to the makeshift table and smiled.

  “Come, sit with me,” he said.

  The faerie lord continued to perch atop the table. I stood my ground, not wanting to place myself below Torn by sitting on one of the low crates. When we didn’t move, he shifted his attention to our weakest link.

  Torn turned yellow eyes to Jinx and winked. Her lips parted and she took a step forward. Torn ran a hand down the length of his body to pat the wood beside him. He was like a cat playing with a mouse.

  I cleared my throat, snapping Jinx from Torn’s spell. She took a step back and pulled something from the bag she wore slung over her shoulder. Every cat in the alley hissed, hackles raised, and I risked a glance at my friend. Jinx held a crossbow trained at the faerie lord’s head. I turned back to Torn, a wry grin on my lips.

  “No more games,” I said. “I have questions.”

  “Nice to see you too, princess,” he said.

  “Sorry, Torn,” I said. “This isn’t a social call. I don’t have time for social niceties.”

  He tilted his head to the side and raised a scarred brow. When we’d met before, the cat sidhe claimed that he was bored. I was hoping that our mission was intriguing enough to hold his interest.

  “Go on,” he said.

  “Two things,” I said. I held up two fingers. “First, how did you know I was a princess? That didn’t become common knowledge until a few minutes ago.”

  I scowled, remembering the phoenix perched on the stair rail announcing my royal title to the entire club below. That single moment was going to complicate my life, as if it wasn’t difficult enough already.

  I wasn’t looking forward to marching back through that crowd when it came time to leave. Every faerie in the club was probably talking about my lackluster entrance into fae society. My mouth went dry and I focused on one of the feathers in Torn’s tattered ear.

  “We cat sidhe are masters of concealment,” he said. To demonstrate, Torn began to fade away, obscured by shadow. Within seconds he was completely invisible. “No secret is safe from our eyes and ears.”

  A moment later, the shadows shifted and Torn reappeared, beginning with his amber eyes and scarred ears. He was wearing a satisfied smirk that pulled at the scar on his cheek. Nice trick.

  “Impressive,” I said.

  The cat sidhe waved his hand in dismissal, as if it were nothing. But being able to walk the streets unnoticed, both in cat form and concealed by shadow, was a major talent.

  Sir Torn and his subjects could have been listening any time I discussed my parentage outside the protection of The Emporium or my house wards. I’d have to learn to be more careful. I tilted my head at Torn, studying him more closely. If all cat sidhe had the ability for such stealth, they would make a powerful ally, or an invincible foe. For the first time, I wondered which side the cat fae belonged to. Were cat sidhe members of the Seelie or Unseelie court?

  “Cat sidhe are independent,” he said. “We belong to no one.”

  It was as if Torn plucked the question from my mind. Oh yeah, I’d have to learn to be a lot more careful in future dealings with the cat sidhe.

  “If you are such masters of secrets, then maybe you know something about my real father,” I said.

  I held my breath and waited. Before today, my only interest in my father was finding a cure for my life threatening wisp abilities. But after memories of my childhood had seeped past the unraveling spell on my mind, I now wanted to get to know my father. I felt a duty to help him find a way to break the curse he was under and bring him home. But I’d have to find him first.

  “More than you,” Torn said. I wanted to wipe the smug smile off his face with one of my blades, but instead I waited. I rolled my shoulders and tried to look bored. I was learning a thing or two about faerie negotiations. “What will you give me for this knowledge?”

  I shrugged.

  “That depends on what you know,” I said.

  “I know that Will-o’-the-Wisp, king of the wisps, left this city twenty years ago after he made a foolish bargain with a demon,” he said.

  “Whatever,” I said. “I knew that already. Maybe you’re not as good at gathering secrets as you like to think.”

  “I know more, but that information comes at a price,” he said.

  Crap. I was hoping to keep the faerie cat boasting long enough to give something useful away for free. No such luck.

  I was tired of faerie bargains and the heavy price they carried, but there was one
tactic I hadn’t tried yet. Since the cat sidhe were unaligned, it just might work.

  “How much information would you be willing to share with an official ally?” I asked.

  Torn’s eyes widened for just a second, but I’d seen the reaction. I had caught the faerie lord unawares. I smiled. I was pretty sure that Torn didn’t surprise easily. He returned my smile, displaying pointy white teeth.

  “You are willing to ally the wisps with the cat sidhe?” he asked.

  “Yes, but only in exchange for useful information about my father,” I said.

  “Your offer is…unprecedented,” he said. Torn made a strange purring sound low in his throat and licked his lips. “I accept.”

  I felt the pavement shift beneath my feet as the bargain settled on my soul, but for once, there was no pain or nausea. I took that as a positive sign.

  “What do you know of my father’s whereabouts?” I asked.

  “Liam, as I knew your father, left Harborsmouth after that foul demon bargain,” he said. “He is cursed to walk the world carrying a lantern filled with an ember from the fiery pits of Hell. Will-o’-the-Wisp has become Jack o’ Lantern. He carries the lantern until the curse can be broken or he hands the lantern over to another.”

  “But if he passes the lantern on to someone else, he’s effectively cursing them, right?” I asked.

  “Yes and the lantern must be taken up willingly,” he said. “The role of Jack o’ Lantern cannot be forced, though trickery and manipulation are permitted.”

  “So my father is trying to find a way to break the curse without damning someone else,” I said. “Is that why he left Harborsmouth?”

  “He left because the lantern is dangerous,” he said. “Your father realized that the lantern he carried was a conduit to Hell. Liam did not want to harm you or your mortal mother with its presence.”

  My father didn’t abandon us—he was trying to protect me and my mother. My heart swelled.

  “Do you know where he is now?” I asked.

  I bit my lip. Please, please, please. Torn slouched and spread his hands wide.