Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8)

by Brad Magnarella

  The elderly woman threw her thick arms around my neck and rocked me back and forth. I’d had second thoughts about coming here—there was so much to process, to figure out—but her embrace had a grounding effect that I hadn’t known I’d needed. And her permed white hair, smelling like a grandmother’s love, drove out the last vestiges of the death stench from earlier.

  “How are you, Mae?” I asked as we separated.

  “Oh, not bad for a broad on the rocky side of seventy.” She took me by the shoulders and squinted at me from behind her thick glasses. “But goodness, you look as pale as a ghost. Come in and let me get something warm in you.”

  Mae had decluttered the place considerably since my first visit here. Though a few boxes remained in the main hallway, I was able to step past her instead of having to edge through sideways. Behind me, I heard Mae and Bree-yark exchange tender greetings and kisses on the cheeks. Her drive to organize probably had a little to do with being courted after spending so many years alone.

  “Go on and have a seat,” Mae called to me.

  I followed a lingering aroma of baked bread into her kitchen. Still recovering from my proximity to whatever had been stalking me, I sat heavily at the table. I’d been thinking demon or fae, especially after what the pixies had told me, but now I considered the whiff of death I’d caught before climbing into the cab. The scent hadn’t been purely olfactory, had it? No, it had been tinged with magic.

  Necromancy?

  I nearly shouted when something climbed my dangling coattail and landed on my lap. A lobster-like creature stared at me above a mouth of writhing tendrils, thick claws held aloft. Mae’s pet.

  “Hey, Buster,” I said, wiggling a finger at him.

  Buster responded by snapping a claw at my face.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Mae said, thumping Buster’s tail as she tottered past. “Everson’s a friend.”

  Buster dropped his claws in a sulk and bowed his head. As I went to scratch him, he spotted Bree-yark. With a chirp, he leapt to the floor, leaving me hanging, and circled the goblin’s steel-toed boots like an eager puppy. Dropsy the lantern craned her glass face this way and that to get a better look at him.

  “So Bree-yark tells me you’re in the middle of another case,” Mae said from the coffee maker.

  “Yeah, and it’s a doozy.”

  I gave her a rundown of events since we’d last worked together to rescue the efreet from the demons. As incredible as it seemed, that had only been a few days ago. So much had happened since, and I had to condense the account considerably. Even so, by the time I finished, the coffee had percolated and Mae was setting three steaming mugs around the table. She took a seat opposite me, beside Bree-yark. He’d placed Dropsy on the floor, where she and Buster were making cautious stabs at play.

  “And now you need to get back to this time catch to help your friends,” Mae said.

  I nodded and took a draw of hot coffee. Though not my preferred roast, it felt comforting going down. “Just the small matter of getting back there.”

  Mae tsked. “Lord, I wish I could help, but that’s not my wheelhouse. And you’ve exhausted all your contacts?”

  “Just about.”

  “Maybe Caroline will get your letter,” Bree-yark offered.

  “Maybe,” I echoed, but doubted it.

  “Who does that leave?” Mae asked.

  I hesitated a beat before answering. “That demon I told you about? Arnaud? He claims he can get me in. He’s going to want to deal, though, and I can’t do that.” It felt wrong telling them what I’d withheld from Vega, but at the same time it was a big relief. “And not only because he’s a demon.”

  “That would seem reason enough,” Mae remarked.

  “Agreed, but Vega would flip out if she even knew I was considering it. He’s a sadistic killer. He abducted her son a couple years ago, and when I met with Arnaud this morning, he made insinuations against our little girl.”

  Mae’s head tilted. “Little girl?”

  “Oh, yeah. We’re expecting.”

  Her eyebrows folded down. “And you didn’t mention it till now?”

  When she glanced over at Bree-yark, he said, “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m hearing it for the first time too.”

  “We haven’t announced it yet,” I said. “We just got the confirmation a couple days ago.”

  Mae stood and opened her arms. “Well, come here then.” I went over and accepted her second enthusiastic hug of the morning. “Congratulations, Everson Croft. You’re going to be a wonderful father to that child.”

  “Agreed,” Bree-yark said.

  “Thanks, you two. I hope so.”

  As Mae released me, she showed her stern face. “But talk to that woman about this demon of yours. She may not want to hear it, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders and she’s the mother of your child. You’ll need to figure it out together.”

  I nodded even though I wasn’t quite ready to take the Arnaud step.

  “And Everson?” she said. “I know this is the old-fashioned in me talking, but I hope you intend on making an honest woman of her.” She wriggled the band on her fourth finger with her thumb.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Good.”

  “Of course she has to say yes first.”

  Mae swatted my shoulder. “As if she wouldn’t. Well, go on and have a seat. Your coffee’s getting cold.”

  “Actually, I should probably get a move on.”

  Bree-yark jumped up. “Yeah, we just stopped by so Everson could, you know, help me carry my things down to the car.” When I turned, the goblin shot me a look that told me to go along with him.

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “So you’ve found a place?” Mae asked Bree-yark.

  “Um, yeah. And I want to get over there today. Set things up and what not.” Bree-yark slid me another look as he took Mae’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I appreciate you letting me keep my stuff here.”

  Mae giggled. “Oh, it was no trouble.”

  “And once I’m settled, I’d like to take you out to dinner again,” he said. “You know, to say thanks.”

  “That would be wonderful.”

  Despite everything going on, I couldn’t help but feel a blush of pride that I’d helped get the two of them together—even if it had meant invoking Gretchen’s wrath. They were good for each other.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” I said.

  “Well, here, let me put them in something to carry with you.”

  “Oh, no, no, that won’t be necessary,” I said, but Mae was already tottering across the kitchen and reaching for a cupboard. By the time Bree-yark and I gathered his set of duffle bags from the spare room, Mae had already filled two thermoses and was inserting them into the crook of my left arm.

  “Dropsy,” Bree-yark called. “We’re going!”

  The lantern reluctantly left her new friend and leapt onto one of Bree-yark’s bags. Buster scuttled after her, rising onto his hind legs and snapping playfully before Mae told him to stop. He backed away with a despondent chirp.

  “Remember what I told you,” Mae said to me as she opened the door for us.

  “Talk with Vega before I even think about dealing with the demon Arnaud.”

  She pinched my cheek. “You’re going to make a fine husband. If you need an old woman for anything, you know who to call.”

  “Will do, Mae. And thanks again. This visit did me good.”

  “Me too,” she said, glowing. She waved past me at Bree-yark.

  When the door closed, Bree-yark said, “I sure do like her.”

  “She’s great. But why did you lie back there?”

  “Oh, just trying to avoid some awkwardness.” He used his elbow to press the button for the elevator. “At some point she would’ve asked if I’d found a place. I tell her no, and suddenly she’s offering the spare bedroom.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “She’s old-f
ashioned, like she said, and I didn’t want to put her in that position. I respect her too much.”

  “That’s noble of you.” I meant it, but I hoped he wasn’t leaving himself wiggle room to get back together with Gretchen.

  As the elevator door opened and we stepped inside, I could feel just how much the visit had helped. My head was clearer and my body stronger, even carrying twenty pounds of the goblin’s stuff.

  Bree-yark had parked his Hummer a block from the apartment, and he swore when he discovered graffiti on the rear door. Given the neighborhood, it could’ve been worse. After loading his duffle bags, we climbed into the front seats.

  “So where are you going to stay?” I asked.

  “I’ll find somewhere.” Bree-yark started the engine. Because of his short legs, he’d had the Hummer modified with hand-powered gas and brake controls. He worked them now, easing us into traffic. “I saw some hotels just up the way that are pay-by-the-week. Could crash at one of those.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t.”

  “It’s not forever. Can I drop you somewhere?”

  “My place, but only if you let me host you.”

  “Aw, you don’t have to do that, Everson.”

  I could tell by his tone he wasn’t being polite. He really didn’t want to put me out.

  “One, I’ve got the space. Two, I’m not old-fashioned like Mae.” That drew a barking chuckle from Bree-yark. “Three, you get along with Tabitha, which is extraordinary. And four, I’m going to ask something in return.”

  “Like halves on the rent? No problem. I’d prefer that, in fact.”

  “I’m not talking about money,” I said. “I need a favor.”

  Bree-yark looked at me sidelong. “What sort of favor?”

  “I need you to get me into the Fae Wilds.”

  8

  “The Fae Wilds?” Bree-yark exclaimed.

  “There’s supposedly an exiled fae in there, one who has the power to access time catches.” Seay the fae had brought him up when we’d met as a team and were brainstorming ways to access the time catch. In fact, it was the option the Upholders were preparing to pursue until Osgood arrived to help us. Now that it was clear we couldn’t count on Osgood, I’d been revisiting that horrible option.

  Bree-yark shook his head.

  “I know it’s crazy,” I said, “but it’s this guy or Arnaud.”

  “Have you ever been to the Fae Wilds?”

  “No, but I’ve dealt with their creatures up here.”

  We were speeding down Central Park West, and I stiffened as Bree-yark overtook a line of cars, swerving at the last second to avoid a horse-drawn carriage. The fae lantern hopped up and down on the console.

  “Everson, it’s not the same,” he said. “They’re more powerful in the Wilds, and there are more of them.”

  “Well, you claim to have crossed and re-crossed the Wilds a dozen times,” I shot back. “How did you manage it?”

  “Being embedded in a thousand-unit army helps.”

  “Well … all right, but I have spells and potions.”

  “Do you even know who this fae is?”

  “His name’s Crusspatch.”

  “Gods almighty,” Bree-yark muttered.

  “You know him?”

  “By reputation, and it’s not good. He’s a crackpot.”

  That’s what I’d been afraid of, dammit. In fact, I’d made these very arguments to the Upholders when Seay and Jordan were pumping the idea. It was weird—and yeah, troubling—being on the other side of the debate, going against my own best judgment. But when your only other option was Arnaud…

  “And you think he’s just going to help you like that?” Bree-yark snapped his thick fingers, producing a sound like sandpaper. “Even if he agrees, he’s gonna want something in return.”

  I’d made that point to the Upholders too.

  “He apparently misses delicacies from his former kingdom,” I offered. “That might be all it takes?”

  Bree-yark squinted over at me. “C’mon. You really think it’ll be that easy?”

  “No. But considering what’s at stake, I’m prepared to make some sacrifices.”

  “Even if it means entering into a bargain with a cracked fae?”

  “Depends on the bargain. But for my friends?” I hesitated. “Yeah.”

  He exhaled. “Then you’re gonna need someone who knows the terrain.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t ask you to come.”

  “You’re not asking. I’m telling you.”

  We arrived at my apartment building and hauled Bree-yark’s duffle bags to the fourth floor. Inside my unit, we piled them beside the coat rack. Dropsy, who had ridden atop one of the bags jumped down and began peering around the new space.

  Already, I was making a mental list of the things I would need to assemble and prepare for our journey. Bree-yark claimed to know of a passage to the Fae Wilds through the old goblin tunnels in Central Park, and he’d remained stubbornly insistent about going with me, for which I was secretly grateful.

  “Where’s your cat?” he asked.

  “Huh?” I looked toward Tabitha’s divan, but except for the depression and scattering of orange hair, there was no sign of her. “Good question.”

  “Hey, Tabby!” Bree-yark called. “Your favorite goblin’s here!”

  When she didn’t answer, I said, “She’s probably on the ledge.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  I snorted as I began emptying my coat pockets onto the dining room table. “No, she patrols outside now and again. Makes sure no one’s casing the apartment. Magic attracts unwanted attention.”

  “Gotcha.” Bree-yark looked around and made percussive sounds with his lips. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have something to nosh on? Gretchen was in the middle of making breakfast when I decided to have our talk, so I haven’t eaten yet.” His stomach let out a low rumble. “Probably bad timing on my part.”

  “I haven’t been to the store in forever. Is cereal all right?”

  “That’d be great. A few bowls should hold me over.”

  “Check the pantry. You’ll find at least two boxes of raisin bran, and there’s some milk in the fridge. Just pour from the plastic jug and not the bottles. That’s Tabitha’s elite stash.”

  “No prob—” Bree-yark started to say, then broke off. “Hey, Everson? I think you should get over here.” He’d been rounding the kitchen counter, and now he was staring at something on the floor.

  I hustled over. “What’s up?”

  He pointed a thick finger at where Tabitha lay in a sprawl, eyes halfcocked, tongue lolling. One of her paws was slung across her belly, while the other stretched overhead. My pulse quickened when I noticed she wasn’t breathing.

  “Tabitha?” I called.

  All around her were shards of a whiskey bottle, as if she’d batted it from the opened liquor cabinet above the stove. But there should have been spilled alcohol everywhere. My eyes cut back to her swollen belly. She choked on a breath, then resumed breathing in a wet snore. I exhaled. Not dead. Drunk.

  “She do this a lot?” Bree-yark asked, coming to the same understanding.

  “Never, and I have no idea what possessed her to do it now.” I nudged her with a shoe. “Hey.”

  She moaned, then resumed snoring. Dropsy, who had somehow gotten onto the kitchen counter, stared down at Tabitha as if trying to decide what to make of her. She edged a little closer and leaned forward.

  “Maybe we should turn her onto her side,” Bree-yark said. “You know, in case she can’t handle her sauce.”

  “I have a better idea.” I scooped Tabitha up and cradled her against my stomach. Her body was heavy and warm. As I carried her toward the ladder to my lab, I could hear the whiskey sloshing in her belly.

  Her eyelids fluttered. “Evershun?” she slurred. “Is that you, darling?”

  “Yeah, just hang tight. I’m going to have you feeling better in a minute.”

  “Better? But I feel wo
nnnderful…”

  “I’ll bet,” I muttered as she dragged a sheathed paw down the side of my head.

  Her lids slid up from a set of bleary eyes. As she watched me, her mouth leaned into a smile. “Have I ever told you how much I like your lips? Oh, they’re beautiful, darling … Just scrumptious … I could snack on them right now.” She strained toward my face, but the small effort exhausted her, and she collapsed back into my arms.

  “Up we go,” I said, scaling the ladder.

  Her head lolled so that she was facing behind me. “Yoo-hoo,” she called down to Bree-yark.

  “Tabitha,” he grunted.

  “Who is that fetching man?” she whispered.

  “Bree-yark, and you’ve met him before. He’s a goblin.”

  “Goblin, hmm.” She said it as if she were contemplating a new delicacy. “Aren’t you coming?” she called.

  “I, um, think I’ll wait down here,” he said.

  “The handsome ones aaalways play hard to get,” she sighed.

  I set Tabitha on my lab table and dug through my plastic bins of pre-mades until I found what I was looking for: a small vial containing a clear liquid. It was a purification potion designed to eliminate toxins. More than one text claimed it also worked on alcohol, inducing rapid sobriety.

  “You know what we need?” Tabitha asked, aiming a wavering paw at my face. “More whiskey.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so.” I spoke an incantation, causing the potion to bubble. “Try this,” I said, bringing the dropper cap toward her mouth.

  “Ooh, what is—aack!”

  Tabitha gagged and hacked, but enough went down that it was just a matter now of waiting. By the time she finished spitting, I could see her eyes returning to focus. She winced and brought her paws to the sides of her head.

  “I feel fucking horrible,” she moaned.

  “Better horrible than dead. Care to explain why you lapped up half a bottle of eighty proof?”

  “Oh, not now, darling.”

  “Yes, now,” I said sternly.

  She sighed. “I told you I haven’t been feeling myself the last couple days. Ravenous hunger one minute, complete loss of appetite the next. I thought it was getting better, but after you left this morning, I woke up with the most ungodly sense something was about to happen. Something horrible. I ate, I paced, I went outside, I tried to go back to sleep, but nothing made it better. The dread just grew worse and worse.”