When everything stopped moving, I walked cautiously to the foot of the hole. “Damn,” I said. “If you could do that, why did I even bring shovels?”
“I’d not planned to. Along with healing you, it’s nearly exhausted my spark. I’ll be using the rest to fill the grave again.” He nodded down at it. “You’ll still need to clear the casket enough to open it.”
I frowned. Moonlight revealed the first few feet, but below that was almost pitch darkness. “I won’t be able to see anything down there, and I left the flashlight in the van,” I said. “Any suggestions?”
Taeral looked supremely annoyed. “De’àrsahd.”
“Come again?”
“Say it.”
“Okay. Uh…de’àrsahd.”
As the word left my lips, the moonstone started glowing.
“Wow,” I said. “Nice trick. That’s a lot easier than making myself get angry and defensive.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said uncertainly. “Now go. Hurry.”
“All right. I’m going.”
I grabbed the shovel, tossed it into the hole, and then sat on the edge and lowered myself as carefully as possible. Light from the pendant showed glimpses of dull white beneath loose dirt at the bottom of the grave. The coffin. I tried not to land on it as I dropped the last few feet.
It took a while to dig around the casket enough to access the lid. Since I’d spent a lot of time around funeral homes, I knew it wouldn’t just lift open. This was a modern coffin, cranked and sealed shut with a casket key. I didn’t have one of those handy.
Fortunately, I knew the right spot to apply leverage and pop it.
I wedged the shovel under the top corner of the lid, hesitated a moment, and kicked down hard on the handle. There was a loud crack as the seal broke, and I stared down at the loosened lid.
My mother was in there.
I knelt beside the casket and lifted the lid slowly. For one strange moment, I expected to see her the way she might have been at a funeral—lifeless and doll-like, an uncomfortable parody of a human being, but still essentially a person.
But she’d been dead for as long as I’d been alive, and her remains were little more than bones and dust lying on faded satin.
I wished I knew what she’d looked like.
I closed my eyes until the lump in my throat passed. “All right,” I called out. “I’m in. What should I do now?”
Taeral’s face peered over the edge of the hole. “I’ve no idea,” he said. “You’re the DeathSpeaker. So speak to her.”
“Right.” I sighed and looked back at the body. Calling her mom didn’t seem like the way to go—I’d never even called Mama Reba that. A lot of other names in the privacy of my own head, but none of them were maternal. I decided to go with her actual name. “Jessamyn,” I said uncertainly. “I need to talk to you.”
Nothing responded. Not even a feeling.
I pushed back a spike of panic. It was easier doing this when I wasn’t trying. But I remembered that when I helped Abe figure out what was going on with murder victims, sometimes actually touching the body helped.
I reached down and placed my hand on the breastbone, over where her heart would’ve been. “Jessamyn?”
What is…who are you?
The voice in my head. My mother’s voice. It hurt just as much as Lady Valera’s, as the dead cop’s, but I didn’t sense any struggle. “My name is Gideon,” I said, and paused. Wasn’t sure if I could say the rest. “I’m…your son.”
My son. The rush of warmth behind those words eclipsed the physical pain of hearing them. Oh, Gideon. I’m so grateful you’re alive.
My vision blurred, and I blinked rapidly to clear it. “Guess I am, too,” I said roughly. “I’m sorry you’re…not.”
You’re more important. This is not so bad, being dead, she said. How are you talking to me, anyway?
Christ, why did it hurt when they talked? My head was already pounding. “It’s a long story,” I said. “I guess…well, I need to find my heritage. Where I came from. I’m supposed to connect with my real parents.”
I felt mild confusion from her. Your father is called Daoin. He’s…not human, I’m afraid. And you are very special, Gideon. A true child of two worlds.
As she spoke, a rush of white noise filled my head, and the words echoed in the space. Thoughts that weren’t quite memories rushed in with them. It was like finally remembering something important, long after you’d forgotten you wanted to know.
I understood what I was. Not human or Fae, but something different. Something that was both, instead of neither. I knew that magic was a part of me, and I could use it almost the same way I breathed. The understanding wasn’t complete—I’d gotten just enough to know that I had a hell of a lot to learn.
Still, it was so much more than I’d known before.
“Thank you,” I finally said. “Thank you for helping me understand.”
I’m glad I could help. The voice fell silent, and I thought maybe the connection had been broken somehow. But then she said, How did you survive, after…I died? Are you living well? I’ve so often prayed that life would be kind to you.
I drew a shuddering breath. Lying to her felt wrong, but I didn’t want her to know what I’d been through—what I was still going through. None of it was her fault. “My life is good,” I said. “Taeral found me, pretty soon after…you know. He saved me.”
Your brother. There was just as much warmth behind those words as the rest. Please…tell Taeral it wasn’t his fault, what happened to me. Or his father.
“I will.” God, how I wanted to stay here and keep talking to her. I had so many questions, and it seemed like she did too. But as little as I knew about this talking-to-the-dead ability, I sensed I wouldn’t be able to keep this up long. The words still hurt, and my head felt like it was splitting in two. “I, uh…have to go,” I said. “There’s something I need to do. But I’d like to talk to you again sometime, if you don’t mind. I promise I’ll come back.”
I could feel her smiling. I’d like that.
“All right,” I said. “Er. Thank you.”
I love you, Gideon. So much.
Those words didn’t hurt my head, but my heart twisted sharply in my chest. And I suddenly realized something I’d never even thought to consider.
No one, in my entire life, had ever told me they loved me.
“I love you too,” I half-whispered. “Mom.”
Goodbye, my son. This time I felt the connection break.
I had to close my eyes for a long time.
Finally, I lowered the coffin lid gently and stood, brushing dirt from my pants. I hadn’t thought much about how I’d get out of the hole, but it wasn’t that much taller than me. It’d be just like doing a pull-up at the gym. Sort of.
I threw the shovel out first, then stood at the foot of the hole and jumped straight up. Somehow I managed to catch the edge the first time and boost myself out. I guessed it wasn’t really that amazing, considering what I’d done to the cops back on the parking garage stairs.
Taeral stood a few feet away, staring at me with a critical eye. “How do you feel?” he said.
“Different. A little more clear on things.” To demonstrate, I glanced down at the still-glowing moonstone. I had some vague idea that I could turn it off now if I wanted to. But if there was a word, like the one that turned it on, I didn’t know it. I tried just thinking really hard that it should turn off—and it did. “Holy shit, it worked,” I blurted.
Taeral wasn’t impressed. “It’s a start,” he said. “Move aside, so I can fill this in. I can hardly stand being this close to humans.”
“Wait. She had a message for you.”
“Did she.”
He really didn’t seem like he wanted to hear it. I suspected the reason was somewhere in the message, even though I didn’t know what it meant. But I was going to tell him anyway. “She said what happened to her and…uh, Daoin wasn’t your fault.”
“Of
course she would say that,” he snarled. “All right, you’ve delivered the message. Now stand aside.”
I moved back and watched him use magic furiously to cover the grave—like his anger, rather than his spark, powered the spell. Sometime soon, I really needed to know where all this hatred came from. I had a feeling it mattered to whatever my life was going to be when the dust settled.
But right now, there was something more important. I’d held up my end of the deal. Unlocked my potential, at least as far as I could.
And we had a werewolf to rescue.
CHAPTER 22
Taeral didn’t look much better when we got back down to the sub-tunnels. He might’ve even looked worse. I’d thought being in the city was making him sick, either physically or psychologically—but getting away from it didn’t seem to be helping.
This time I’d been able to recognize the way to the Hive, more or less. Right now I knew we were in the tunnel that led to the gate. But I wasn’t so sure Taeral would make it the rest of the way.
“Hey, are you all right?” I said. “I’ve moved corpses that looked better than you.”
He barely glanced at me. “I’m fine.”
“You’re green.”
“I said, I’m fine.” He looked straight ahead, moving with measured steps. “I’ve nearly exhausted my spark. I believe I mentioned that.”
“Yeah, you did. But I’m pretty sure that shouldn’t make you sick.”
“What could you know of it?” he said with a sneer.
“More than I did before,” I said. “Look, if you need time to restore yourself or whatever before we go after Sadie, I guess it’s okay. Better if we’re both at full strength, right?”
He stiffened almost imperceptibly, but kept walking. “You still intend to…rescue her.”
Anger tightened my jaw, but I managed not to shout. “I thought you did, too. That’s why we went through all this,” I said. “I didn’t have a chance unless I unlocked my potential.”
Taeral slowed, then stopped and turned to face me. “You’ve still no chance,” he said. “Don’t you know that?”
“Damn it, I don’t care!”
He flashed a pained expression and reached into his jacket with the metal arm. Something clinked heavily, and he pulled out a pair of ancient-looking handcuffs. Not anything I’d imagine he would carry around—and I wasn’t happy to see them. “Do you know what this is?” he said.
“Is that a trick question?”
“Cold iron. To the Fae, it’s poison.” He stepped toward me, and I moved back fast. “It weakens and sickens us,” he said. “Enough of it can be fatal. Milus Dei is very well aware of this fact.”
“Great.” That explained what was wrong with him, anyway. “If it’s poison, why are you carrying it around?”
“In case you refused to change your mind about giving yourself up to them.”
A chill went through me. “I’m not giving myself up,” I said, backing away again. “I’m going to get Sadie.”
He shuddered visibly. “I’m sorry, brother,” he whispered. “I cannot let you do that.”
I decided now was a good time to run.
But I hadn’t even turned, when he pointed his normal hand at me and said, “Beith na cohdal.” Instantly, my body felt thick and heavy. My legs wouldn’t hold me up, and my eyes refused to stay open.
My last thought before total blackness was that the bastard hadn’t completely exhausted his spark, after all.
I woke up blind.
Panic shocked away the grogginess that remained from whatever he’d done to me. My eyes were wide open, but there was nothing in front of them. They weren’t even trying to adjust. Darkness pressed down from all sides in a smothering curtain.
I took a few calming breaths. The air smelled wet and dirty, and I could hear a faint dripping sound. I was lying on my side on a hard, cold surface. And there was something heavy around my wrists. The handcuffs. But instead of cold metal, they felt incredibly hot…almost burning my skin where they touched.
A distant rumbling sounded—a train passing over. So I was still underground. Maybe it was just completely dark wherever I was, and I hadn’t been struck blind.
I could find out, if Taeral hadn’t taken the moonstone.
For a moment the word wouldn’t come to me. The best I could do was day-something-sad, but that wasn’t right. I tried to relax, to tell myself that I knew this somewhere. It was part of me.
I spoke without thinking.
“De’àrsahd.”
The light seared my eyes. I squeezed them shut, waited a minute, and then opened them slowly to a curved stone wall that glistened with moisture. I turned my head and followed the wall, which went all the way around me. Then I looked up. I was in some kind of well or cistern, and something solid completely covered the opening ten feet above me.
Well. At least I wasn’t blind.
I took another minute to pull myself together and assess things. The cuffs were attached to a chain, with the other end ring-bolted into the cement floor. The stone wall was irregular, cracked in places, with the occasional loose stone jutting out—but otherwise seamless. And whatever blocked the opening looked really heavy.
How did that son of a bitch get me down here, anyway? It must’ve taken serious magic, unless fairies could actually fly.
I pushed up to a seated position and tried not to groan. Everything ached, like I’d been lying here for hours. My wrists throbbed and my stomach churned sickly. I felt as green as Taeral had looked. And I couldn’t believe he’d done this.
I’d known he was a bastard, and barely my brother. But the betrayal still stung.
Damn it, I was still going after Sadie. Somehow.
I promised.
The cuffs had to go first. I didn’t know how to pick locks, and I figured using magic would be a little more complicated than thinking really hard about this one. But they were an old style, more like thin manacles than police-issued steel, and I thought I could pull out of them. It’d hurt like hell, though.
I looked around again. The dripping sound I’d heard was water dribbling slowly from a loosened stone in the wall. If I could wet my wrists, maybe I could get out of the cuffs without ripping all my skin off with them.
The chain just reached the outer limits of the falling water. I had to strain against the metal to catch the drips—and the harder the cold iron pressed into me, the more it burned. My wrists were an angry red by the time I pulled back and collapsed with a gasp.
I slid back as far as the chain would allow, then wedged a foot against the shorter chain that linked the cuffs and pushed. The pain was a lot worse than I anticipated. But the cuffs moved. It took a full two minutes to work the metal bands past the base of my thumbs.
When they popped off, momentum slammed me back-first into the floor.
I closed my eyes and waited for the stars to clear. Now all I had to do was scale a ten-foot stone wall and move what looked like a boulder. I straightened slowly and rubbed my wrists, now raw and bleeding a little, and stared up at the mouth of my prison.
My knives. If I still had them, maybe I could use them like rock-climbing picks to get up there. I’d figure out what to do about the obstruction if I reached it.
When I reached it. I had to.
Both blades were still in my jacket. I guessed Taeral didn’t think I could get out of this, or maybe he thought I wouldn’t even try. I gave myself a few minutes to rest, and then stood and got the knives out.
After an experimental stab or two to make sure I could wedge the blades deep enough to take my weight, I started up.
It was slow going. I had to find the next loose stone or weak point nearly blind, while holding myself with one arm, with my feet pressed against the wall when I couldn’t find a stone below me large enough for a little purchase. My shoulders burned with the effort, and more than once I was sure I’d fall.
I finally got close enough to touch the barrier. It was definitely rock. I could only us
e one arm to push—and it didn’t budge.
But I wasn’t going to give up.
Trying to push harder would only waste energy. So would shouting. Even if the sound somehow carried through the big-ass rock above me, I had a feeling there was no one around to hear it.
Well, I was supposed to have magic. Time to test that theory.
I put a hand on the stone that blocked the opening. The only magic word I knew was for making things glow, and I was pretty sure that wouldn’t help here. At least I knew how to focus. I thought about the stone moving, imagined the grinding sound it would make. Pictured myself climbing out of this hole and going after Sadie.
“Come on,” I muttered. The ache in my legs and strained shoulders was approaching unbearable. I really didn’t want to figure out whether I could heal myself after falling ten feet onto concrete. “Help me out here,” I said. “This has to work.”
I pushed harder, physically and mentally. This time, the grinding sound I heard was outside my head.
The stone was moving.
Faint light appeared from above, growing stronger as the opening widened. I gave one last shove, and the rock tilted off and slid free.
Climbing out the rest of the way took every ounce of concentration I could force into my trembling muscles.
I heaved over the side and collapsed on the ground, not bothering to look at where I was yet. Had to catch my breath first. When my body finally stopped shaking, I raised my head to look around and found myself at the edge of the underground cemetery.
The symbolism kind of pissed me off. Taeral had tried to bury me alive.
I didn’t have time to hang around here. Furious as I was with him, I somehow knew that he didn’t want me dead. He’d only wanted to stop me—and he could come back any time to check on me. I had to get moving.
At least I didn’t need to have another conversation with Lady Valera. I knew the way out from here.
CHAPTER 23
I emerged from the subway blinking in full daylight.
Wrong Side of Hell (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 1) Page 11