by E.J. Stevens
“I am sorry, princess,” he said. “The last known location for Jack o’ Lantern was Fukushima, just before the tsunami and nuclear disaster. Many went missing that day, both fae and humans, and I lost track of your father. Locating him again will be difficult, but I will have my people look into it.”
The Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster was known the world over. Radioactive materials had been released due to a meltdown at a nuclear power plant in Fukushima Japan. The nuclear disaster followed the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami which caused over 15,000 casualties.
Had my father been injured during the disaster? Was he even still alive? I shook off the heavy cloak of doubt before it had a chance to suffocate me.
My mouth went dry as another thought wormed its way into my head. Had my father’s presence had something to do with the Fukushima disaster? If so, the lantern he carried was more dangerous than I thought.
I sighed. I needed to talk to my father, but there was nothing to do now but wait for a lead to his whereabouts. I had no doubt that if anyone could discover where my father was hiding, it was the cat sidhe. For now, my fate, and my father’s, were in Torn’s hands.
The cat sidhe leaned forward, tilted his head, and studied me with open curiosity.
“And the second reason you sought me out?” he asked.
Oh, right. I’d wasted enough time on my own personal agenda. It was time to learn what I could about the walking dead. If I could trace the reports of strange lights and other supernatural activity to a specific burial ground, then we’d be one step away from rescuing those kids.
“You said that you’d heard rumors of ghost sightings in Harborsmouth,” I said. “I think these sightings might be linked to a case I’m working involving missing fae kids.”
Torn hissed and his eyes flashed bright yellow in the dark alley, but his anger wasn’t aimed at me. Faerie children are rare and precious to the fae. I gave the guy a moment to collect himself.
“Our children are missing?” he asked.
“Yes, over thirty kids that I know of so far,” I said. “The calls started pouring in this morning. We have some leads, but we’re short on time.”
“Tell me what you know,” he said.
I gave him the Cliffs Notes version of the case. When I mentioned the rats, every cat in the alley showed their teeth and claws. Apparently cat sidhe and their feline followers aren’t besties with the rats of the city. Since most of the rats I’d seen in my vision were the size of cats, I assumed they made a dangerous foe, especially in large numbers. But if I were a betting girl, I’d put my money on the cat sidhe in a fight.
“We know that Melusine is capable of murdering children,” I said. Ceff blanched, but I continued on like I hadn’t noticed. It was better to get this over with fast, like ripping off a bandage. “We also know that The Piper will need to begin the Danse Macabre in order to feed off the children’s life energy and to fulfill his bargain by providing Hell with their souls.”
“You’re running out of time,” Torn said.
“Yes,” I said. I swallowed hard. I just hoped we weren’t already too late. “I know who the key players are, and what they want, but what I haven’t been able to figure out is where they are hiding. I just know that it’s likely that they are near a burial ground.”
“And you think the ghost sightings might lead you to them,” he said. I nodded. “Do you have a map of the city?”
“Yes,” I said. I pulled up the map display on my phone.
Torn stared at the map, brow furrowed.
“Here and here,” he said, pointing. “Most of the ghost sightings are reported near these two cemeteries—Ocean Overlook and Far Point.”
They were the two oldest and largest cemeteries in Harborsmouth, each encompassing acres of city land. It was a lot of ground to cover, but at least Torn had helped us narrow the search to two possible locations.
“Thank you,” I said.
“If you wish to thank me,” he said. “Bring back our children.”
I nodded and turned toward the wall where we’d entered from Club Nexus, but the door was gone. I turned to Jinx who shrugged.
“Ahem,” Torn said. Torn stretched catlike and slid down from the table, his boots silent as they hit pavement. “This way.”
Torn sauntered with feline grace toward the end of the alley. The sea of cats parted as we followed their leader. I wondered where they had hidden the exit. Was the door somewhere in the brick wall? The alley mouth? I just hoped it wasn’t inside the dumpster.
I walked up behind Torn and he stepped aside with a flourish. We were standing facing a dark street that looked entirely real. I rubbed my forehead trying to make sense of what Torn was showing me. The energy jolt I’d received when entering the club was wearing off and I was too tired for games.
Torn pointed to my left and I gasped. The entrance to Club Nexus, still guarded by the ogre bouncer, stood a few doors down from the alley. How could that be possible?
“We aren’t inside the club?” I asked.
Torn looked down at our feet standing inside the alley and lifted his eyebrows.
“Now that is a matter of opinion,” he said. I stepped out onto the sidewalk, testing a theory, and turned back to Torn. He nodded and smiled. “You are most definitely outside the club.”
I looked up at the night sky, a grin pulling at my lips. We’d found the answers we were looking for and saved valuable time. The strange geography of the cat sidhe’s pocket of Club Nexus meant we didn’t have to go back through the club to find an exit—and I wouldn’t have to face the stares of snoopy curiosity seekers.
I cracked my neck and lowered my head to look at my companions. Jinx slid her crossbow into her bag and Ceff nodded.
It was time to go find the kids.
Chapter 21
We crouched beside a stone wall, the gates of Ocean Overlook a mass of wrought iron protruding from the gray swirls of low fog. During our walk to the cemetery the fog had rolled in off the ocean to pool at our feet. I pulled myself upright and peered over the rock wall. Iron fencing was set deep into the stone, with sharp points aimed at the sky.
We wouldn’t be climbing over the wall. Ceff was already sweating profusely from the close proximity to so much iron. No, we needed to make a run for the front gates—if I could get them open without being seen.
I scanned the cemetery grounds for a caretaker or security guards. Fog flowed between headstones like specters, but I saw no sign of humans. No telltale flashlight beams cut the night. If there was a guard on duty, he wasn’t nearby.
“Looks clear,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait,” Jinx said. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out two small plastic containers, each the size of a contact lens case. “I almost forgot. Take these.”
“What are they?” I asked.
“Ear plugs,” she said. “I use them when I’m out clubbing. They should muffle the flute’s music.”
I smiled and tucked the earplugs into a jacket pocket. Jinx was brilliant. Ceff moved more slowly to take his and I was reminded that we were in a hurry. He couldn’t take much more iron exposure.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll have the gate open in just a sec.”
Ceff’s skin was pale, but he nodded and pulled the trident from his pant leg. He kept the handle collapsed and held it in a reverse grip, the tines of the weapon pointed toward his torso and slanted against his forearm. Jinx readied a bolt, but kept her crossbow between her body and the road. At a passing glance they looked unarmed.
The entrance to the cemetery was on a dead-end street and we hadn’t seen any traffic so far, but it was best not to take chances. We couldn’t risk anyone seeing our weapons. It wouldn’t do the children any good if we ended up spending the night at the police station.
I crept forward, shoulders tight. Ever since we’d left Sir Torn and the club behind, I’d had the itchy feeling that someone was watching me. When I was halfway to the gate, I spun on the ball
of one foot and scanned the darkness behind me, but Jinx and Ceff were the only people in sight.
I let out a shaky breath and returned my attention to the cemetery. The gates were made of wrought iron crafted in an ornate pattern. They towered overhead at approximately seven feet at the highest point.
I pulled a bottle of clary sage from my pocket, unscrewed the cap, and squeezed a dropper full of the oil onto one of the gate hinges. The air filled with the sharp, herbal scent and I proceeded to oil the remaining hinges. Clary sage was the only oil I had on me at the moment. I hoped it would help to keep the metal silent when it came time to push the gate open.
The gates were held shut with a thick, stainless steel chain and large padlock. I unrolled the cloth containing my lock picking tools and glanced to my left and right. Satisfied that no one was coming, I began picking the padlock.
It would have been faster to cut through the chain, but I was fresh out of bolt cutters. Plus, if I got caught, trespassing was bad enough without adding vandalism to my rap sheet.
I inserted an L-shaped torsion wrench into the bottom of the keyhole. I applied tension to the lock cylinder, first clockwise and then counterclockwise. The cylinder turned a fraction of an inch counterclockwise. I applied gentle torque to the wrench in the counterclockwise direction and held it there with my left hand.
Next, I inserted a hook pick into the upper part of the keyhole. Working back to front, I pressed up with the pick, feeling each of the four pins. Starting with the pin which offered the most resistance, I pressed the pick upward setting the pin. I repeated the procedure, continuing with the final three pins. I removed the pick and turned the torsion wrench counterclockwise, holding my breath. The padlock clicked opened.
I slid the chain carefully from one of the gates and left it hanging in a loop. I’d lock up behind us when we finished. I took a deep breath and pushed the oiled gate halfway open. I needed to allow enough space for Ceff to enter without coming into contact with the iron. With one final glance at the grounds, I ducked back out onto the sidewalk and waved my friends forward.
My phone rang and my heart leapt into my throat. I rushed to answer it, chiding myself for not turning off the ringer.
“I’ve been researching the Danse Macabre,” Father Michael said in a rush. He sounded out of breath. “I think I know how the dance can be stopped. But Ivy? I spoke with Kaye and she believes the number of fae children taken is significant. The Piper may need a particular number of fae to begin the spell. Do you know how many children have already been abducted?”
“Just a sec,” I said. I jogged over to Jinx who was walking slowly toward the cemetery gate. Ceff was leaning heavily against her, the nearby iron taking its toll. “Jinx, Father Michael needs to know the number of kids who’ve gone missing.”
Jinx raised one painted eyebrow, but didn’t ask questions. She shifted Ceff to one side and pulled out her phone. She accessed her case files, tongue pressed against her cheek. Within seconds Jinx had the information we needed. I was glad that one of us was organized.
“Thirty-three,” she said.
“We have thirty-three kids reported missing,” I said into my phone.
I heard a quick intake of air on the other end.
“If The Piper already has thirty-three children, then you don’t have much time,” Father Michael said. “He has what he needs to complete the spell.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “When Kaye told me her theory, I looked more closely at medieval paintings and carvings of the Danse Macabre. The artwork often depicts thirty-three living dancers and thirty-three of the risen dead.”
Numbers, like names, hold power. I knew from spending time with Kaye that the number three was often used when casting spells. The number of children who had been taken made sense. I just wished I’d noticed that detail sooner.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Torn helped narrow our search to two Harborsmouth cemeteries. We’re at the gates of Ocean Overlook now. If the children aren’t here, we’ll head over to Far Point.”
“No, you don’t understand,” he said, voice shrill. “There’s no time. Kaye thinks that once The Piper has the thirty-three children needed to complete the spell, he will begin the dance at midnight.”
Midnight? I checked the time. Talk about the eleventh freakin’ hour. It was eleven forty-five. The priest was right—we were running out of time.
Far Point cemetery was too far away and both cemeteries were huge. It would be impossible to cover that much ground in fifteen, make that fourteen minutes, even if we split up.
I glanced at Ceff, his skin pale in the moonlight. He was our fastest runner, especially if he shifted to horse form, but he’d never make it through Far Point’s iron gates on his own.
I set my jaw and looked my companions in the eye. We had to stick together. It was our best chance of defeating Melusine and The Piper and bringing those kids home alive. I just hoped we had the right cemetery. I waved Jinx and Ceff through the gates while continuing my conversation with the priest, voice tight.
“What else can you tell me?” I asked.
“If you find the children…” Father Michael said.
“When,” I said, correcting him. I pushed the gate closed behind my friends. It would fool a casual passerby, but not someone working security. I just hoped that there were no guards on duty. “When we find the children.”
“If the Danse Macabre has already begun, you will need a way to disrupt the spell,” he said. “I found a holy verse which may cancel out the powers of the demon flute and halt the dance. Say the words, Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium. Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur, tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute, in infernum detrude. Amen.”
“No offense, Father,” I said. “But I suck at Latin. Can you send that to me in a text message?”
“Yes, of course,” he said.
“Thanks, give Galliel a hug for me,” I said. “I’ll see you both when this is over.”
“Ivy, the church grim is still here,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Omens aren’t set in stone. We can always change our fate. I’ll bring those kids home safe.”
“I will pray for you,” he said.
“Thanks, padre,” I said.
I ended the call and hurried to catch up with Jinx and Ceff. I wished I believed my words to the priest. I liked to think that we could change fate, if we tried hard enough, but death omens are tricky business. We’d need the priest’s prayers if we hoped to make it through the next fifteen minutes unscathed.
Chapter 22
We quickly left the cemetery gates behind. Color returned to Ceff’s face as we put distance between us and the iron gates and he now ran without Jinx’s assistance. We sprinted through the cemetery looking for sign of the children.
We moved with such speed that headstones appeared, as if by magic, in the swirling fog. I was glad for my fae-boosted night vision and quick reflexes. Jinx wasn’t so lucky. Her shins and knees were bloodied from stumbling into unseen obstacles, but still she ran on.
We searched every tomb and mausoleum, but there was no sign of the children. I checked the time again—it was eleven fifty-nine. The statues of angels looked down from lofty perches atop monuments and pedestals. Their sightless eyes seemed mocking as I tried to hold out hope.
I ran faster, my breath ragged and legs burning. A light danced in the distance and I stopped. My pulse pounded in my ears as I tried to hold my breath. As I watched, more lights joined the first to dance through the air. That was no flashlight.
Those were wisps.
I’d never seen a full-blooded wisp before. Nothing, not even the glimpses in my visions, had prepared me for how captivatingly beautiful they were. Kaye had shown me artist renderings of my brethren,
but the paintings and sketches hadn’t done them justice. The wisps glowed like the light of the sun—and pulled at me with a star’s gravity.
These were my people. Mine. I felt something akin to a mother’s love for these beautiful spheres of light. Warmth flooded my body and flames seemed to lick at my skin. With a maternal bond comes a fierce protective instinct. I gripped my knives tightly, a growl forming deep in my chest. Melusine and The Piper had involved the wisps in their dark plans. For that I’d make them pay.
I shook my head, pushing away thoughts of revenge. I needed to focus on the problem at hand. If the wisps were in the cemetery ahead of us, the children must be nearby. Miraculously we’d found the correct cemetery, but we were still running out of time.
Keeping an eye on the wisps, I turned to the side and waved to Jinx and Ceff who were running up behind me. I held up my hand for them to wait and pointed to the wisps. I wasn’t sure if they’d seen the small faeries yet. I pointed to myself and gestured for them to stay back and let me approach first.
I crept toward the nearest wisp, heart racing. I needed to save the children and my people. If I could get close enough, I might be able to reason with the wisp, maybe. I felt the growing bond between us, but these wisps had never met their princess. And I, for all my royal blood, had never before encountered one of my people. I had no idea if we could even communicate with each other. But I had to try.
The glowing ball of light hovered above a headstone, casting the epitaph into sharp relief. When I was near enough to read the engraving, I came slowly out of my crouch and cleared my throat. The wisp ducked behind the headstone, seeming to wink in and out of existence with its speed.
“Wait,” I said. I kept my voice low. If Melusine or The Piper were nearby, I didn’t want to give away my position. “I am the daughter of Will-o’-the-Wisp.”
A piece of me finally slid into place. I was like an old puzzle in a box with torn corners—pieces falling through the cracks. You can try to put the puzzle together, but unless you stumble on the missing pieces, the picture is incomplete. I’d found a missing piece in this unlikely place, and I would cherish it. Fulfilling my destiny as the leader of the wisps gave me an unexpected sense of calm. I smiled and took an easy breath.