Dreams of the Forgotten Dead

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Dreams of the Forgotten Dead Page 9

by Eric Asher


  Edgar provided good advice, but I still wished he could have given us some foolproof method to fight the basilisk.

  Our server came back both to deliver our entrees and marvel at how fast we’d all drained our last round. She glanced between Nixie and Edgar. “Rough day?”

  Edgar gave a slow shake of his head. “We have certainly had worse. Another round for my friends and I.”

  “Sure! Same thing?”

  He raised an eyebrow and looked around the table. No one protested, and he gave one small nod.

  Our server disappeared again, and I started passing out paper towels. You could eat pulled pork without making too much of a mess, but when it came to ribs, I could understand why Edgar had taken off his jacket.

  At first, Alexandra carefully held her rib on the tips of her fingernails, but a few bites in, she gave up and started to eat a bit more properly. And by that, I mean a lot more messily.

  Edgar glanced at the water witch and laughed.

  Alexandra narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have any room to talk, Watcher. Would you like me to get you a bib?”

  He looked down at his shirt, only then realizing some of the sauce had escaped his latest bite. Edgar cursed under his breath. “Back to the dry cleaner’s it goes.”

  “Just be glad Foster isn’t with us,” I said. “Not only would we be buried in barbecue sauce, but I doubt your jacket would survive the evening.”

  Our banter continued for a while, bouts of annoyance mixed with laughter. The restaurant started to fill up, more than I had expected, and that kept our conversation away from the basilisk lair. I let my thoughts wander, and not for the first time that day, I was just glad to be home.

  By the time we finished our third round of drinks, I was glad we didn’t have to drive anywhere because that would’ve meant leaving one of the cars behind, though the streets of Saint Charles were quite safe.

  I leaned back in my chair when the last of the ribs were gone. We got an order to go for Shamus and the fairies, and Calbach, if he was still around.

  “I feel like I should be doing more research tonight.” I turned the empty bourbon glass on the table.

  Edgar shook his head. “Rest tonight. There are others who may have answers. I will discuss the basilisk’s lair with them and deliver my findings in the morning.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Calbach was already gone by the time we got back to Death’s Door. Hess declined an offer to eat with the fairies, and I could understand that as she couldn’t really eat anymore, being dead and all. Apparently, she’d grown fond of the cu siths’ lair. I supposed that might have been because it reminded her somewhat of the tunnels beneath Falias and Antietam that I’d seen in my time with the Utukku.

  Foster was another story. To say Foster was excited about the ribs would have been a gross understatement. The fairies didn’t need that much food when they remained in their smaller forms, thankfully, and I’d only seen Foster eat in his Proelium state a handful of times. Of course, it probably would have been less messy than his current method.

  Foster pried the lid off the side of barbecue sauce and started to lean over it before Aideen grabbed his shoulder.

  “I am not cleaning that out of your armor.”

  Foster looked mildly offended as he glanced down at his carved silver breastplate.

  “Take it off. If you get sauce in that, I’m going to leave it until the next time you walk through the Ways.”

  “What about the chain mail?”

  “Off.”

  Foster shrugged and started dropping armor outside the carryout box until he was left in an undershirt and a pair of shiny shorts.

  Aideen scowled. “You could have changed in the clock.”

  Foster flexed his wings and grinned. “Could have, but the ribs are here.” He dug into the meat with both hands, tearing away a strip as long as his arm before he dunked it in extra sauce and sat down in the corner of the carryout box.

  Aideen donned a poncho, having learned her lesson over several years of Foster eating ribs like a woodchipper.

  “Is that hot tub set up?” Foster asked around a mouthful of pork. “Gonna need it. Wings are getting messy.”

  “Wings,” Nixie said between air quotes.

  “I’ll pour some dish soap in the sink for you later,” I said. “Hot tub is off limits tonight. If anyone is breaking that in, it’s me.”

  Nixie raised an eyebrow.

  “Us,” I said with a wide grin.

  “Better.”

  Aideen laughed as she unsheathed a hunting knife and carved a much more reasonable piece of meat off the rib. The contrast of her sitting straight-backed with a tiny plate versus Foster, sprawled out in the tray as he dangled rib meat over his face like a strand of licorice, was quite a sight to behold.

  “Are you sure Shamus really doesn’t want any of this?” I asked.

  Nixie shook her head. “He always preferred fish.”

  “We could have brought him something.”

  “If he is in need, he will not hesitate to tell us. The decorum of the undines is somewhat different than that of the commoners.”

  Frank stepped into the back room for a minute, grabbed two ribs and a bag of chips, and started toward the saloon-style doors.

  “Everything good, Frank?” I asked.

  He looked back at me. “Definitely. Just hungry. I like Shamus. He has some great stories about Atlantis you’re going to have to hear. You know he actually met the Old Man?” Frank didn’t wait for my answer, instead making his way to the front to talk to the undine.

  “He knew Leviticus?” I asked, turning to Nixie and Alexandra.

  Alexandra nodded. “Most undines at least knew of him. He was the first necromancer we encountered who was something more than a threat. It had an effect on the entirety of our people.”

  “Not all good,” Nixie said.

  “No, it wasn’t. It divided us in some ways. Those who would welcome the necromancer, and those who wished to throw him down. In time, those who only saw Levi as a threat started to see those who supported him as the same. Painted in broad strokes is an expression I’ve heard in my years among the commoners. And it is apt here.”

  “Sounds familiar,” I muttered.

  Nixie inclined her head. “We are all different in some way, and while it can be a strength, it can also be leverage for those willing to use it.”

  “I wish I could say commoners were better than that.”

  Alexandra smiled. “Commoners, vampires, Titans, they are all divided in their own ways. The Eldritch may be the most united of all beings, which is a thought that has often saddened me.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “You’re harshing my buzz.”

  Nixie kissed me on the cheek before cringing away.

  “What?”

  “I just saw Foster.”

  I looked at the fairies and burst into laughter. Foster was half submerged in the vat of barbecue sauce, dipping another strip of rib into the horribly violated container. He waggled his eyebrows at Aideen, but somehow she managed to resist his charms and stay safely on the other side of the carryout box.

  “Well, that’s enough for me,” Nixie said, walking over to the cabinets opposite the grandfather clock. She pulled down three glasses, a bottle of Weller, and a bottle of grain alcohol, which concerned me greatly as it was basically lighter fluid.

  “What’s that for?” I asked. “Why do we even have that?” But just as I asked, I remembered what we’d done to a watermelon the year before.

  “This is for me and Alexandra,” Nixie said, pouring two excessively tall shots before pouring a Weller for me.

  “You’re just going to take shots of straight grain alcohol?”

  Alexandra dipped her finger into the glass instead of picking it up, her finger growing translucent before the level of the alcohol dipped. “I can’t even tell you how much better that is than cu sith slobber.”

  Mortified, I didn’t look away from Alexandra
. “I … what?”

  Alexandra laughed and sank back in her chair. “Long story.”

  Nixie absorbed some of her own drink, and I didn’t miss the tension in her shoulders relaxing a hair. “This really is the best if you don’t have to taste it.”

  “Weller, please,” Aideen said.

  I stared at the fairy, aghast. “But it’s not even Irish.”

  “One more thing you’ve corrupted me on.”

  I grinned and tilted my chair back, opening a drawer to pull out a few thimble-sized glasses. It took more coordination than I had to pour one of those thimbles, so I held it over my own glass to keep the excess from going to waste.

  Aideen took it from me and breathed deeply over the pool of bourbon. “We probably shouldn’t drink much tonight. You do have to go hunt down a basilisk at some point.”

  “Definitely,” I said, trying to count up the number of drinks we’d had with Edgar before starting at Death’s Door. “Definitely.”

  Foster almost made it through half a rib by the time he stopped. And it was a sudden stop where he looked down at the strip of pork and appeared to be rethinking his life choices. “I think I’m done.”

  Aideen slid a thimble of bourbon to him, and I wondered if at some point the fairy would simply explode.

  Nixie and Alexandra finished another shot of that horrid alcohol before either one of them even looked buzzed. On one hand, I was impressed with their tolerance, and on the other hand, I was quite happy mine wasn’t anywhere near that strong.

  To say it had been a rough month was quite an understatement. And sometimes I needed to forget, if only for a little while, how close I’d come to oblivion. If it wasn’t for my friends, I wouldn’t have made it back. Nixie had returned to Atlantis. Vicky had risked everything. Zola had faced Old Gods and worse. Hugh had fought for the Heart of Quindaro. Cornelius had sacrificed himself. They were debts I could never pay, and reminders of a darkness that would shadow whatever I touched.

  “Damian?” Nixie rubbed my arm.

  I met her gaze, staring into those crystalline eyes as if they’d hold answers to questions I didn’t want to ask.

  “Why don’t we go upstairs and get some rest?”

  I took a shaky breath and drank my bourbon. It was still early, but I was tired, and Aideen was right. We needed to be ready for whatever was coming.

  “Shamus is welcome to stay here if he’d like,” I said.

  Alexandra shook her head. “He’ll join the undines in the river, I’m sure. Word has spread that he is here, and they are anxious to meet him.”

  I blinked. “Why didn’t they just come here?”

  Nixie leaned over and kissed me. “Something about being afraid of a necromancer. Although I’ll say they’ve grown fond of Graybeard.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that. The Bone Sails had become a mainstay on the Missouri River, and if I was being honest, I was glad the parrot had decided to stay for a while.

  We made it upstairs, past the maze of cardboard boxes, and into the new apartment before Nixie closed the door and locked it. She pulled me toward the bathroom, where she started filling the copper basin. Whatever rest I thought I was about to get was lost to the devilish grin on her face as she dragged me into the tub.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Showered and dressed after the previous night’s shenanigans, we made our way out of the bedroom.

  Hess perched on one of the overstuffed leather chairs at the edge of the ghost circle. She looked as real as any of us inside that magic and offered a wave. “Terrible sights await you downstairs.”

  “Really? Anyone dead?”

  “Other than myself, I do not believe so.”

  I grinned at Hess, and we started down the stairs. “I forgot how bad my old mattress was.”

  Nixie blew out a breath. “Good riddance. You should have bought a new one ten years ago.”

  “I don’t think it’s even ten years old.”

  “My point still stands.”

  I chuckled and then froze when I saw the wreckage at the table downstairs. Empty bottles, fat cu siths with barbecue leftovers strewn across the floor. A naked fairy snoring in a pool of sauce. Scratch that, two naked fairies.

  Judging by the bowl of soapy water, they’d been attempting to clean off before passing out.

  Alexandra was face down on the table with a small trail of drool that would have made the cu siths proud. There was enough fairy dust covering the table, floor, and walls that I couldn’t begin to imagine what had happened. But I was quite glad I’d started the morning with allergy medicine.

  Something groaned in the corner. I stepped around Alexandra and hesitated. “Sam?”

  My sister’s black hair winced away from my voice. “Not so loud.”

  “Did you eat Frank?”

  She brushed her hair back and scowled at me. I nodded toward the bald form next to her. She finally looked at him and cringed at the rather sloppy holes in his arm and the trail of dried blood.

  “He’ll be fine,” she whispered before smiling.

  “What happened?”

  “Vik told me to take a night off.”

  I laughed at that. “Pretty sure you did.”

  “I’m never going to drink again.”

  “Uh huh.” I just resisted rolling my eyes.

  Nixie prodded Aideen with her index finger.

  The fairy swatted at her hand and rolled over. “Stop hogging the blankets.”

  “There aren’t any blankets,” Nixie said. “But there are people watching.”

  At that, one of Aideen’s eyes snapped open. “Shit.” She shook Foster. “Wake up. No one needs to see your ass this time of the morning.”

  When he didn’t respond, Aideen hoisted him onto her shoulder, and dropped him into what I imagined was now a very cold bowl of water.

  Foster screeched when he surfaced, flailing about before he realized where he was. He slowly eyed the room and sank back into the bowl. “Morning.”

  Sam elbowed Frank. “Wake up. You’re missing the naked fairies.”

  Frank smacked his lips and looked at Sam. “What? Is it morning?”

  “Almost ten, if I had to guess by the light,” Aideen said.

  Frank glanced up at the fairy and then did a double take. “You, uh, weren’t joking.”

  Sam grinned.

  Aideen rolled her eyes. “Commoners and their modesty. Come on, Foster. Let’s get cleaned up.”

  Foster hopped out of the bowl and shook himself off.

  Sam whistled, cringed at what I suspected was her hangover, and then whistled again, apparently finding the pain worth it.

  Foster scrunched up his nose, gave her the finger, and followed Aideen back into the grandfather clock.

  “What hit me?” Alexandra asked as she leaned back in her chair.

  Nixie raised an eyebrow. “You look dry as a bone.”

  Alexandra raised her hand and grimaced. Her skin was drawn and showed cracking, like my knuckles did in winter. “Ugh, I let Foster pour the drinks after you two went to sleep.”

  I nodded and looked around. “That explains the fairy dust everywhere.”

  “His ability to change forms is quite impressive. Most fairies would have passed out long before he did.”

  “Yes, he’s special like that,” Sam muttered.

  Frank took a deep breath and climbed to his feet before pulling Sam up.

  “Shower and tub upstairs if you’d like,” I said. “New apartment’s done.”

  Sam cursed. “I’m sorry. I should have helped you move.”

  “No way. You’ve been taking care of Vik, and someone has to keep that vampire in ferrets.”

  “Thanks, Demon. Come on, Frank.”

  Frank shook his head. “I need to open the shop.”

  I pointed to the stairs and Sam grinned. She grabbed Frank, and they were gone in a rush of air.

  Alexandra dragged her feet over to the sink and turned the cold water on, sticking her face unde
r the faucet long enough to drown a mortal. She already looked better by the time she stopped drinking. “I think I’ll be in the river for a time if it’s all the same to you.”

  Nixie smiled. “By all means. Edgar should be here soon, and there’s not much to do before that.”

  Alexandra bowed, winced before placing a hand on her head, and shuffled toward the front of the shop, leaning a bit forward the entire way.

  I followed her to the front so I could unlock the door and get the store open while Frank made himself a bit more presentable. Not that we had a dress code or anything, but blood crusted on your body wasn’t generally something many shoppers wanted to see.

  With the sign flipped and the store open, I made my way to the register. Frank had a few notebooks stacked up next to the tablet, and I absently opened the first. It was filled with notes, and it didn’t take long to realize they were from Shamus.

  The handwriting didn’t look like Frank’s, and for that matter, it looked little like any person’s I’d ever known. The looping scrawl had more in common with calligraphy than printing.

  “Hey, Nixie?”

  “What is it?” she asked, turning away from one of the gemstone cases.

  “Do you know why Shamus would have given Frank these lists?” I turned the notebook to face her.

  She read parts of the list out loud, a series of metals and tools and other things I didn’t recognize. “This is all materials for the forges. I didn’t realize how serious Shamus was about restarting them.”

  “So this is what he wants Frank to barter for?”

  Nixie nodded. “This is nothing for which a commoner can barter. Frank may be a journeyman, but he’ll need the backing of Atlantis to strike any kind of bargain for this.”

  “Look at the next page.”

  At the top was a single word. Trade.

  Nixie frowned. “Orichalcum. That would give Frank leverage. Shamus knows exactly what he’s doing. There is much left in the ruins of Atlantis, and potentially more if they risk mining it.”

  “Mine?”

 

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