“Ozzy,” Holden moaned. “I’m sorry.”
“You would have sent me off to my death.”
“No. You would’ve worked something out. You always do.”
“I’m an idiot.” I shook my head. “I thought we were friends. Even after all these years. I thought…” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t know how to.
He pushed himself up to his knees and clutched his wounded shoulder. “We are friends, Ozzy. I never…not until just now—”
“Save it.”
He looked down at the floor, then at me again. “What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”
Beneath wet, shining eyes, he offered me a small lopsided smile. “You’re not the kid I remember, that much I know.”
I didn’t return the smile, and soon his faltered. He licked his lips.
“I, uh, heard about your little brother,” he said. “I’m sor—”
“Don’t.”
“I just—”
“I won’t tell you again.”
He pressed his lips together and gave me a nod.
I looked down at the homunculus once more. Then I tucked it into my pocket and stood. I rummaged through my bag, found a rolled up piece of gauze.
“Get up,” I said, tossing Holden the gauze. “We’re leaving.”
“But…” he began, then he went quiet and nodded again. Wincing a little, he got to his feet and started to wrap the gauze around his wound.
Lilian had overheard me. She started hauling Ursula toward us. The witch had a look on her face like she’d just bitten into a lemon.
Suddenly, Isidora’s rat started squeaking. It scrambled up onto one of the stone cubes and stood up on its hind paws, ears and whiskers twitching.
Lilian and I exchanged a glance. Something was wrong.
“What is it?” I said to the rat.
Then I felt it. A vibration that rumbled underfoot, shaking my bones. A few seconds later I heard the tumbling of rocks from out through the open tomb door. A thin cloud of dust billowed into the room, accompanied by a tremendous crash of stone.
“Cave-in!” Ursula yelled.
I shook my head, my chest tightening. “No. They’ve found us.”
Lilian swore, then grabbed the witch by the collar. “Are there any other exits?”
“This is a tomb, not a train station,” Ursula snapped.
More crashes echoed down the tunnel. Stone crunched against stone.
“What’s happening?” Holden looked up at me, wide-eyed.
“They’re breaking through the collapsed section.”
“How?”
I didn’t know, so I didn’t answer. Didn’t matter. We only had a few seconds, and fewer options. Surrender, break out, or make a stand. I had a pretty good idea how surrender would turn out. And trying to charge through them seemed like a good way to end up dead. Which left Plan C.
“All right,” I said. “Holden, Ursula, you either stick around or go hide. Doesn’t much matter to me.”
The witch scowled at me. There was that family resemblance again. As another boom rumbled through the tunnel, she grabbed Holden by the arm and hauled him toward the corridor.
“We’re fighting?” Lilian said.
“Looks like it. York can’t have many people left. Find cover over there.” I pointed to the rear of the main hall, behind the sarcophagus.
She shook her head. “I can’t do anything from back there.”
While she spoke I pulled my revolver out of my pocket, snapped open the cylinder, and replaced three of the bullets with silver. That’d give York and his magical protections something to think about.
“You know what’ll happen if you get hurt,” I said. “I don’t want to have to fight you as well.”
“And what if you get hurt?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried about me.”
“Fuck you, Turner.” She paused. “Just don’t die, okay?”
She hesitated a moment longer, then drew her second pistol and backed off. Not as far as I’d have liked, but you try arguing with her.
One last clatter of falling rocks came down the tunnel, accompanied by another billowing cloud of dust. I snapped my revolver closed and dropped down behind one of the larger stone cubes. With my other hand I drew the sword a couple of inches and then slid it back into the sheath again, making sure it wouldn’t get stuck.
Of course, if it came down to needing a sword, I was probably already boned.
With the last few seconds I ran through my meager stock of supplies. I was all out of witch’s fire. Not that it had proven much use against York last time I’d used it. A single sunflare sat in my pocket. I had a little powdered silver that I’d picked up on my trip home. A few trinkets and talismans. Not much against a bunch of fanatics with guns.
But you want to know the truth? The real, deep down, honest-to-God truth? I wanted this.
My heart pounded with fear, sure. But also with anticipation. York and his cultists thought they could waltz into Lost Falls, kidnap Stuckey, attack Early, break into the tomb, bring their faith to bear against us.
No. Stuckey had died trying to prevent them getting what they wanted. Early nearly did too. I knew in my heart that if they succeeded here, if they got what they wanted from the tomb, then they would bring unimaginable suffering to this town. Just as Morley the Profane had done more than a century ago.
So yeah. I wanted this. I was going to end this. Here. Now. One way or another.
The sound of rocks falling faded away, leaving silence in its wake. The dust cloud still obscured the tomb entrance. Swallowing, I wiped the sweat from my eyes and braced my gun arm against the top of the stone cube.
Footsteps approached. A few sets. How many of them were there? Three? Four? That was doable, right? We had cover. The light was dim. We had a chance.
With my free hand I buttoned up my collar, hoping that the concealment magic my coat contained might give me an edge in the opening salvo.
The footsteps stopped. Through the dust cloud I thought I could see shapes, but I didn’t have a clear shot. Wait, I told myself. Wait until you know you can hit someone.
There was silence for another couple of seconds. Then a voice called out.
“Are you in there, Ozzy?”
It was York’s voice. But it was different, somehow. Rasping. I remembered the wraith’s sword cutting through Stuckey’s neck as he tangled with York. Maybe York had been injured by the strike. Good. I’d take any advantage I could.
When I didn’t answer, York called out again. “I’m sure you are. We heard the gunshot. You haven’t been having any trouble, have you?”
I glanced back, checking Lilian was in cover. Ursula and Holden had disappeared down the side passage. I’d lost track of Isidora’s rat. It had probably followed Ursula. Isidora wouldn’t want to risk the rat getting killed in a firefight. Her soul was bound to the creature.
“I know we’ve had our quarrels,” York said. “But I want to extend the hand of friendship to you one last time. I don’t want to have to kill you and your friends, Ozzy. I just need to get into that tomb.”
I thumbed back the hammer of my revolver and aimed down the sight. This guy was pissing me off. Maybe I’d take a few pot shots at him after all.
A few seconds crawled past. I heard York sigh.
“I understand. It’s a shame, though. It seems a waste to throw aside a shrewd mind like yours. And you have such interesting friends. Witches. A revenant in human form. A gang of delinquent ghouls.”
Something about the way he said those last words caused cold fingers of dread to trail down my spine.
I saw movement in the dust cloud. “It was a surprise to find a ghoul skulking around the mine entrance when we arrived,” York said. “He seemed to be on important business. He tried to flee, of course, but he was already
injured, and we caught him easily enough. Do you know what we found on him?”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Bones,” York said. “Human bones. Old ones, too. Not a recent meal for the ghoul. He refused to tell us who they belonged to, of course. But then I thought about it, and I realized this must be your doing. They don’t call you cunning man for nothing, hmm?”
I looked over my shoulder at Lilian. There was a question in her eyes. She didn’t fully understand what was happening. I did. Hell, but I did.
“The daughter,” York said. “Morley’s daughter. You sought to use the bones in some spell, I suppose. You wished to use them to break the wraith’s hold on reality. To destroy Morley’s Vengeance. It was fortunate that I was able to prevent that.”
More movement within the dust cloud. It had almost dispersed now, but the shadows outside the tomb were deep, too deep to penetrate.
“Like Morley, I understand the necessity of using darkness to fight darkness,” York said. “But, when it has served its purpose, that darkness must be destroyed, lest it corrupt the light. Is there anything you would like to tell your friend, ghoul?”
There was a grunt, and I heard someone spit. Another voice shouted out. Daud’s.
“Kill this fucker, cunning ma—”
The ghoul was cut off by the boom of a gunshot. The sound echoed through the hall, through my skull. Then came the soft thump of a body hitting the stony floor.
I screwed my eyes up tight, opened them again. In my head, I added another name to a list. A bill that would be paid in York’s blood.
“There.” York gave a satisfied sigh. “You know what I call that? A good start.”
“He was only a dumb kid,” I muttered.
“What’s that, Ozzy?”
“He was only a dumb fucking kid!” I shouted.
“He was an abomination,” he said simply. “Now, I’d love to come in and deal with you myself. But my injury has left me feeling a little tired. Fortunately, the flesh-eater here has provided me with the means to make other arrangements. I tried to negotiate with Morley’s Vengeance on our first encounter, but its drive proved too strong. Now, however, I have gained the means to focus its attention on the true enemies of the light.”
The penny dropped. I knew why York was lingering outside the tomb. With my heart in my throat, I stuffed my revolver back into my pocket and reached into my bag.
“Farewell, Ozzy,” York said. “It has been…illuminating.” The shape in the shadows backed away, and I heard York speaking to someone else. “The heathens are all yours. And soon, your daughter can rest beside you.”
Something hissed. A gray streak passed through the thinning cloud of dust. As it darted inside, the tomb door began to close behind it.
York was sealing the wraith in here with us.
33
My hand closed around the silver mirror in my bag. In one movement I drew it out and tossed it across the tomb.
“Lilian! Catch!” I yelled.
I didn’t stop to see if she caught it. I turned back, wrapped my hand around the sword’s grip, and tugged it from its sheath.
Not a moment too soon. As the wraith’s gray, indistinct form swept toward me, I turned the flat of the blade to face it. It shrieked with fury and whipped past, smoky wisps of itself pulled toward its own reflection in the blade.
It streaked down low, disappearing among the stone cubes. I spun in place, trying to keep track of it. Gray flashes of its form slipped between the cubes, always just at the corner of my vision. A soft, barely heard whisper seemed to surround me. It dug hooks into my mind, picking me apart.
“Behind you!” Lilian yelled.
I spun, raising the sword. There was a hum as the wraith’s own blade cut through the air toward my neck.
I got the sword up just in time. The wraith’s blade crashed against my steel with a sound like the wailing dead.
I stared. Frankly, I was surprised I still had my head. Bringing the sword up had been an act of instinct. I never expected it to actually do anything, except be a nice shiny mirror.
The wraith’s eyes blazed at me from half a foot away. They were blinding, dazzling. They pulled at me just as the wraith’s reflection pulled at it. I forced myself not to meet its gaze.
My muscles trembled with the effort of holding its blade back. I could feel sweat trickling down the side of my face. I gritted my teeth, willing my strength to hold. As our swords clashed, I could see an electric blue streak spreading across the steel of my sword.
With sudden horror, I realized what that meant for my own survival. It was harming the wraith to be in contact with the metal, but the blue stain spreading across the blade would interfere with the reflectivity of the steel. The wraith was trying to diminish my only means of defense.
Clever bastard.
With a grunt, I pushed a burst of energy into my aching muscles. I forced the sword skyward, briefly shoving the wraith back a couple of inches.
With a wail, Morley’s Vengeance swept its blade around in an arc, bringing it humming back toward my neck.
I was already on the move. I ducked the strike and rolled to the side, nearly slicing my own face open on my sword in the process. As I regained my feet, I brought the sword up again, pointing the flat of the blade toward the advancing wraith. The blue streak still stained the center of the blade, but the patches of steel near the tip and the hilt were untarnished.
The wraith stopped with a hiss. It was closer than it’d been able to get before. But still just out of range to strike me with its blade. Its diminished reflection tugged at its ghostly flesh.
“Lilian!” I roared. “Little help?”
The wraith hissed and screamed as Lilian came charging toward it from its right side, the silver mirror held in her outstretched hand. As we assailed it from two sides at once it began to back off, eyes glowing with fury.
“What now?” Lilian asked through gritted teeth.
As she spoke, the wraith’s form spun toward her. It continued to back off as we advanced, but it no longer seemed concerned with me at all. The glowing orbs that formed its eyes seemed to blaze as it took in the sight of her.
A slit opened in its face and became a black hole. It hissed a single word.
“Godwin.”
Lilian staggered like she’d been struck. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back, one hand grasping at a stone cube to keep herself from falling. Her face became tight, pained. All the strength seemed to go out of her muscles.
“Lilian, no!” I yelled.
But it was too late. The silver mirror slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. With a triumphant hiss, the wraith charged toward her.
Lilian could take a lot of damage. I didn’t think even a revenant would survive losing its head, though. The wraith’s blade hummed as it arced down toward her.
I tackled her at full speed, throwing both of us clear across the stone cube she was using for support. I felt the heat of the wraith’s blade sweep past my hip, humming as it cut into my coat. A couple of vials clattered out of a torn pocket as the two of us tumbled to the floor.
The wraith’s blade hummed even louder as it bit into the stone cube. The stone seemed to give the blade no more resistance than the flesh and bone I’d seen it cut through. A chunk of the cube slid to the ground.
The cube was hollow. From inside, a collection of bizarre items came tumbling out. I caught a glimpse of a hand-carved wooden mask with a mouth shaped into a scowl. Beneath it I saw what looked like a folded cloak with a strange gossamer sheen.
I didn’t have time to inspect the cube’s contents more thoroughly, because in the next instant the wraith was on top of us again. Still on my back, I brought my sword up in both hands, swinging it like a baseball bat. I knocked aside the strike from the wraith’s blade, then turned the sword again to use its reflective power against the creature. Hissing, Morley’s Vengeance swept away.
Grabbing Lilian by the collar, I hauled both of us to o
ur feet.
“You okay?” I demanded.
“Y…yeah, I think—”
“Come on. We have to move.”
I’d lost track of the wraith again. I scanned the tomb, trying to follow its shadowy movements. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the dazed look on Lilian’s face. She was muttering something that I couldn’t make out.
“Snap out of it, Slim. What the hell was all that?”
“My name,” she whispered.
“What?”
“I think it said my name.”
I dragged Lilian around the side of the sliced-open cube and started kicking aside the contents. Where the hell was the mirror? It had fallen somewhere around here, beneath all this junk.
I sensed, rather than heard, the wraith coming at me again. I shoved Lilian one way and threw myself the other. I felt the air shift behind me and I twisted around, swinging the sword wildly.
It caught the wraith’s blade and deflected it. Barely. The blade sliced into the sleeve of my coat and skimmed along the top of my forearm, burning and freezing at the same time. The wraith’s blade continued its arc, cutting into another of the stone cubes. This time I didn’t even have time to turn the flat of the blade toward the creature before it was swinging at me again.
I staggered back, turning a second strike, and then a third. The wraith swung wildly, cutting into the floor and the stone cubes, spilling more strange artifacts onto the ground. I stumbled over jewels set into gold fittings and coins of silver. Its eyes blazed with fury.
As I threw myself away from another attack I caught a glimpse of Lilian behind Morley’s Vengeance. She was staggering along, using a sliced-open cube for support. She seemed to be coming out of her daze.
“Find the mirror!” I yelled.
I didn’t know whether or not she’d heard me. The wraith pressed its attack. I couldn’t get any breathing room. Every now and then I managed to turn the flat of the blade toward the wraith for a moment, causing it to hiss in pain. But then it would be swinging at me again, forcing me to duck back or use the sword to deflect its strikes. And each time our blades clashed, the blue streak crept a little further along the steel, corrupting its reflectivity.
Pay Dirt (Lost Falls Book 2) Page 31