by Drew Hayes
Silver. Clearly not the whole door—it was much too sturdy for that—but woven through the structure like veins. It made a certain amount of sense; not many parahumans could even be near the stuff, let alone touch it, so having a door with silver added in was a smart way to keep out those strong enough to rip through steel. Too bad for whomever had built this place: the fey were among the few who were unaffected by such materials. If someone had wanted to keep the Windbrooks out, they should have used iron.
“Albert, hang back for a moment. This door has silver in it.” Zombies were among the many who were weakened by silver, though not to the same extent as vampires. I never completely understood how it worked, but from what I could put together, the more magic a parahuman had, the more susceptible they were to the effects of silver. Up to a point, anyway. Dragons had more magic in them than nearly any other kind of creature I’d encountered, and apparently they were barely bothered by the stuff. Whether they were immune by nature or just too powerful to be affected was up for debate; magic, like life, rarely came with explicit rules and instructions.
Thankfully, of the three of us, I at least didn’t have to worry about the silver issue. Taking a firm grip on the door, I yanked it forward to reveal the room inside. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to take in the sights before something bolted right into me. No, right through me. It burst past the door I’d opened, flinging itself into the hall and hovering a few feet between me and Neil.
“Trespassers!” The voice was odd: booming and deep, yet more like an echo than something that had come from so close. Now that the figure had stopped moving, I could see that it was male—a lanky fellow with wild hair, crazed eyes, and a patchwork ensemble that might have made sense when it had distinct colors, but that sort of all blended together in the indistinct, foggy form that composed this person.
“Well, hot damn,” Neil said, seeming far more at ease than he was when we were all creeping through the halls. “My first ghost. Amy isn’t going to believe this.”
4.
While Neil was taking the revelation in stride, the rest of us were momentarily dumbfounded. And I do mean all of us. Albert and I were both staring up at the semi-transparent figure in shock, while he was glaring down at Neil with a very clear expression of disbelief.
“You can see me? But I’ve not marshalled my energies together enough to appear to mortal eyes.”
“Ghosts have to work to be noticed by most people.” Neil looked to Albert and me as he explained. “Human senses aren’t built to pick up the spectrum where they naturally exist.”
Our floating new acquaintance jerked his head around, taking note of the people besides Neil. “And you two as well? How is this possible?”
“Taking a wild guess here, maybe I can see you because I’m a vampire?” I tossed out.
Albert jabbed his thumb into his chest. “Zombie.”
“They can both see you because they’ve stepped partway across the threshold between life and death,” Neil said, taking a step closer and examining the ghost. “Whereas I am a mage who specializes in the magic revolving around the power of death: a necromancer. Learning to see through the veil is one of the first tricks we learn.”
“A sorcerer of corpses. How pointless.” The ghost sneered, floating further away from Neil. “I suppose I must thank you, trespassers, for setting me free. When I built that room, it was to keep prying snoops out. I hadn’t calculated the possibility of being trapped in there myself. As reward for your aid, I shall ensure that the wave that washes over the world will devour you all quickly, without making you endure needless suffering.”
I couldn’t speak for the others, but that sort of declaration left me with more than a few questions, none of which I got to ask. Kicking off the empty air, the ghost bolted upward, vanishing through the ceiling over our heads.
“Should we be worried about that?” Albert asked.
“Possibly, though it’s not likely. Based on his density and composition, the man is a recently formed ghost. That means he’s not going to have enough strength to do more than maybe knock a book off a shelf or slam a door. And since the only other person in here is Lillian, it’s not like he’ll be able to get a drop on her,” Neil said.
I was still looking at the ceiling where he’d vanished, trying to mentally map what I knew about the castle and predict where he’d risen up at. “And if he leaves the estate?”
Neil shook his head. “No way. Some spirits—really powerful ones with a lot of experience and mojo—can sever themselves from their point of departure, but most are, far and away, anchored to the place where they died. My money says he won’t even be able to get past the moat, and even if he does, there’s nothing nearby for miles.”
“Hey. Um, Fred, Neil . . . I think you should look at this.” Albert had stuck his head through the open doorway and was peeking into the room where the ghost had been hiding. He walked forward, making room for Neil and I to follow, which we did.
Silence descended as we took in what had been tucked away from view by the slab of metal. It was a lab—I’d seen Amy’s often enough to recognize that much—or at least it was the wrecked remains of one. Broken glass littered the floor in all directions, partially burned tables were flipped over, and shredded pages decorated the ground indiscriminately. More stunning by far, though, were the machines. Great metallic pieces that had been sundered into bits, it was like finding the bones of a massive mechanical beast. Even though it no longer posed a threat, the mere reminders of what had once been were enough to put my nerves on edge. Without thinking, I took a sniff of the air and, finally, it hit me.
Blood. Not a lot, and severely reduced by the cleaning products that had been run over it, but it was a smell I would never mistake for anything else. I followed the trail toward the back of the room, where I found a cluster of bullet marks in the wall and a few dark smears: all that remained of whoever had been brought down here. As I examined the chips in the rock the bullets had left behind, I caught a small glimmer near the edge of one hole. Leaning closer, I took a test whiff to confirm. Sure enough: there was silver woven into the walls of this room as well. Probably the ceiling and floor, too. While that did explain why the ghost hadn’t simply exited through one of the walls the way he did in the basement, it only raised more questions as to what exactly had been going on in this place.
“Found a television!” From across the room, Albert was hauling up an antique TV from the ground. It had a crack down the center of the screen, but was otherwise surprisingly intact—at least compared to the wreckage that decorated the rest of the room. “It probably needs some repairs, but maybe it’s worth money, since it’s an antique? If it’s just the screen, that’s a small fix.”
Before I could protest, Albert began to fiddle with the knobs on the front of the set. To my surprise, the cracked screen flickered to life, a green glow radiating through the dark room. The picture was distorted, warped, like tuning in to a premium channel that one hadn’t purchased. But as Albert adjusted the knobs, it began to change. Some of the static vanished, and blobs of shadow amidst the green glow began to take on actual shapes. Not the shapes of anything remotely familiar, mind you, just shapes that were slightly more stable than before.
I inched my way over without meaning to, craning my neck to get a better view, and nearly bumped into Neil, who was doing the same thing. As my eyes left the screen for a brief moment, I noticed a detail that I’d missed previously: there were no cords running to the TV. Admittedly, battery technology had been around for a long while, but I had a pretty solid hunch that that wasn’t what we were dealing with.
“Albert, perhaps you should set that down,” I suggested.
“Come on, Fred, aren’t you a little curious about what we’re seeing?” Neil asked. “And it’s not like the agents would have left anything behind if it was dangerous.”
That didn’t ring entirely true—June herself had cautioned me that places like this came
with some inherent risk—but before I could say so, Albert made a twist of one of the top knobs and the picture snapped into clear view. I stared at the jumble of images, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Limbs pawed at the glass, so numerous it was hard to make out how many belonged to each being. Some were like tentacles; others had sharp, single-bladed claws; a few were adorned with eyes, ears, and a myriad of things that I have no point of reference from which to describe. These creatures, these things, they were utterly alien, no more like a human than I was like a giant squid. And there were so many of them. If not for the small sliver of sky visible at the top of the screen, it would have been easy to think they were all trapped inside the actual television set, trying to slice their way out.
The sky itself was a curiosity as well. While it, like everything else, was tinged by the green glow of the ancient screen, I could still make out three distinct moons hovering overhead. What in the hell were we watching? Some old sci-fi movie made with exceptional practical effects?
“Oh no.” I turned to Neil, only to notice that much of the blood had drained from his face. “Oh, holy shit . . . oh shit, this is bad.”
“What’s wrong?” Albert was at his friend’s side in a moment, leaving the television behind but the screen still on.
Neil’s head jerked about, taking in the wreckage with new, panicked eyes. “Do either of you realize what happened here? That ghost we saw, he’s the one who did all of this. He’s a planomancer, a mage who specializes in manipulating and breaking through the dimensional boundaries between different planes of existence. All of this . . . it was caused by him bringing those things over.”
I stared at the television with new perspective. Those clawed appendages—they did look like they could leave the right type of gashes on the stone floors, a solid match for countless slices we’d encountered. “But the agents took care of it. The nest is gone, all the big equipment is scrap, and the guy who was running things seems to have been . . . handled.” I faltered a bit on that last word. It seemed pretty obvious that June and September had killed that man, and looking at what he’d been trying to let through, I couldn’t say I disagreed with that decision. Still, it was strange to imagine the ethereal man alive only a few days ago, brought down by a hail of gunfire from the same people I now worked for. “Besides, I thought the dead couldn’t wield magic in the first place. That’s what Amy once told me.”
“That’s the thing, though. A planomancer isn’t the same kind of ghost as most people turn into. No wonder he knew we shouldn’t have been able to see him, even as a newly made spirit. He knows ways to manipulate the veil between the ethereal world and ours, and that’s assuming he didn’t make any prep—fuck!” Neil slapped himself in the head so hard there was an audible thump. “The candle! That’s why I could feel it humming with power—it was still in use. The thing was a magical bolt-bag. He probably left it behind as a just-in-case measure, in the event agents came through and busted up his little plan.”
“But you sealed the candle,” Albert pointed out.
“And if that’s the only contingency he had, then we’re fine, but color me skeptical at the idea that someone who builds an entire room encased in silver will only have a single backup tucked away.” Neil spun around to face me. “Fred, we have to find that ghost. If he did leave some magical contingencies, there’s a good chance he’ll be able to cut his connection from the site of his death. And if that happens, then we’ve got a skilled mage who knows how to bring those things over and who can literally disappear the minute he’s cornered.” He pointed to the television, as if I’d forgotten what he might be referring to.
“‘The wave of darkness that washes over the world.’” I didn’t plan on saying those words; they just bubbled up as I remembered the ghost’s promise before vanishing. “That’s what he meant. Those creatures are the wave he wants to bring over.”
“Unless we stop him.” Albert lifted the television set in one hand and hurled it to the ground, turning the device into more scrap upon the floor. It was a little dramatic, but it made the point well. We had to stop this ghost, or else next time we saw those things, it could very well be up close and personal.
5.
“I still say we call in some agents,” I protested.
“We can and should do that,” Neil agreed. “But it doesn’t change the fact that they won’t be here for at least a little while, and in that time, the ghost might get free.”
Our group had cleared out of the destroyed laboratory and back into the hallway, where there was room to move about without tripping on rubble. Neil was sitting on the ground, his necromancy tome open on his lap, while Albert stood guard nearby. For my part, I pulled out my phone to try and dial Krystal, who would hopefully be able to get a message to June. Sadly, the magic of horror movie tropes was with me this time, as I found myself completely without signal. Not a big surprise since we were in the middle of a basement beneath a massive castle sitting in the middle of nowhere, but still an extreme inconvenience. Rather than waste time, I typed out a text for Krystal and set my phone to continuously attempt to send every minute until the battery died or it went through. That small measure done, I tucked it back in my pocket and redirected my attention to Neil.
“If we’re the ones who have to deal with it, is there at least a plan to work with?”
“Sort of. Best I can come up with on the fly, anyway.” Neil had reached into his pockets once more and produced a pair of tea candles, the sort one would put inside a decorative sculpture on a dinner table. One more trip inside the pocket brought out a needle, which he began using to carve symbols into the soft white wax of the candle. “The candle I found gave me an idea. I’m going to try and make some guides to lead you both toward any big manifestations of magic. Even if the ghost can get to one, it will probably take some time for him to draw the energy out and wield it. We just need to grab all of the totems he might use, and then gather them in one place. When he comes to try and get them, I’ll be able to trap him.”
“And how do candles help us with this?” Albert asked, saving me the embarrassment of posing the query myself.
“With a few runes and a quick spell, I can make them into magic-detectors. I think I can, anyway. When Amy showed me how to do this, it looked a lot easier.” Neil finished etching symbols into the wax and set the needle down. Lifting the first candle up, he closed his eyes and whispered unintelligibly beneath his breath. Seconds later, the wax seemed to shift slightly, like the carvings had just grown deeper. That done, Neil pulled a lighter from his pocket and put a flame to the wick. It sputtered into existence, then leaned in the direction of further down the hallway, like someone was blowing on it, despite the fact that there wasn’t so much as a single draft of wind in the basement. Neil let out a whoop of triumph and handed the candle off to Albert.
“It works! Just follow the direction of the flame like a compass, and it will lead you to nearest source of potent magic.”
I examined the item along with Albert, quite impressed at what Neil had managed to cobble together on the fly. Sometimes I forgot that he wasn’t growing solely in maturity, but was also being taught magic by one of the most revered mages in the whole state. “One problem jumps to mind: if this leads us to a magical object, won’t the flame just keep pointing at it once we pick it up? It would be like using a compass to hunt down a huge magnet.”
“Yes, Fred, that’s why I took out two,” Neil snapped as he worked on etching symbols into the second candle. “We split up, hunting our targets separately. As soon as you get yours, hightail it back to the library, since that’s where Albert and I will set up shop.”
“Hang on, why are you just assuming there will only be two of these things?” I asked, beating Albert to the punch for a change.
“Three.” Neil finished his etching work and dropped the needle into his pocket. “I found the first one already, so we just have to hunt down the other two. But it’s going to be three in to
tal. That’s how these things work. It will either be three, and we can do this, or it’s seven or thirteen, in which case we’re screwed no matter what. So let’s just assume he stuck with the standard of three and get our butts in gear.”
As Neil lowered his head to cast a spell on the second candle, Albert looked from the flickering light to his friend, and then to me. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was on his mind. “Don’t worry, Albert. You’re going to be teamed up with Neil.”
“But you might need help, too,” he protested.
“We talked about this on the way in. I’m a vampire; he’s a human. Besides, the two of you have always been stronger together. You’re going with Neil, and that’s an order from your boss.” It took a lot of effort to sound confident as I told Albert how things were going to be, but based on the reassured look on his face, I felt like he’d bought it. The truth of the matter was that I did not like the idea of splitting up one bit, especially in unfamiliar terrain. That didn’t matter, though. If we were playing against a clock, then every second mattered. Besides, I’d probably be fine. I was a vampire, after all, and our kind surely weren’t that easy to kill.
The flick of a lighter broke the tension, as Neil created a flame on the second candle. It tilted in the same direction as the first, and Neil rose from his seat on the floor. “We’re going to have to get further away from whatever is down that hall if we want a new target. Albert, hand your candle to Fred. Since he’s not going to able to explore the upstairs, he gets to tackle the basement. You and I will head back to the stairs.”