Dead End (Ghosts & Magic Book 4)

by M. R. Forbes

  “There are too many,” I said.

  I listened for the fields. We were high enough that they were weakened, low enough that they were still present. I found the death magic. It wasn’t a chaotic din anymore. I could hear the voices in the background. I could sort them out, pick them apart one by one. I could sense the power in each. I reached out for a specific voice, drawing it in.

  I froze, suddenly realizing what I was doing. The hidden truth of death magic.

  The power of a soul, for the power of a soul.

  Death magic wasn’t like the others. It didn’t emanate from the Earth’s core after all. It came from the netherworld. From the void between our life and the afterlife. The void where millions of souls were trapped. Every time I used the power, I was destroying a soul, wiping it from existence, taking away all that it had been, all that it was, and all that it would ever be.

  I felt sick.

  It didn’t matter. We were going to die if I didn’t use the magic, and the discovery did lead me into another thought, the same one I had been entertaining before I fell asleep.

  It was also the answer to the question I had been asking since I learned I had cancer. The answer that had terrified me from the moment of my diagnosis. The answer that still terrified me, except maybe I could do something about it.

  I had broken my promise to Dannie to bring her back from the beyond. I had put her to the questions. What’s it like after you die? Where do you go?

  Nowhere.

  You went nowhere. The souls were trapped. Stuck in what amounted to Purgatory, waiting to be gathered and used by assholes like Samedi and me. Burned up and snuffed out like candles to keep us warm.

  This was about more than saving life.

  This was also about saving death.

  46

  I was blind, but now I see.

  “Well, at least they saved us the trouble of having to go them,” Amos said.

  The birds pounded at the door to the suite, pecking and smacking and cawing, the noise of it so loud there had to be a few thousand in the hallway. More crows poured in through the windows of our rooms, filling the space like it was water instead of poultry, swooping in toward us in a huge black cloud.

  I raised my hand, casting a web of darkness around us, the death magic passing into the crows and killing them in an instant.

  “Come on,” I said, walking toward the door. Hundreds of crows fell around us, leaving a mess of dark feathers in our midst.

  We reached the door. As we did, the pounding at it subsided, and by the time I pulled it open the birds had retreated. We moved out into the hallway as a group, and I felt a sense of victory to see the crows moving back out of the area, regrouping outside.

  “Yeah, take that,” Frank said.

  “Keep moving,” I said, heading for the elevator. I tapped on the panel to bring it to us.

  The birds were coming back.

  “Round two,” Amos said, leveling his shotgun again.

  “Save it,” I said. “You can’t kill them all.”

  I turned toward the oncoming mass, pulling another soul out of the netherworld, using it to power my magic. I winced when I did. If I had known this was how it worked, I never would have used it at all.

  I held it ready. The birds stopped short of us, diving toward the floor and spilling into one another. It was a display I could barely believe, but out of the mass of crows grew the form of a woman.

  One of Macha’s sisters. One of the Morrigan.

  She didn’t look happy.

  At all.

  “Now that is sexy,” Amos said.

  She stood in front of us. She was tall and pale, with long, black hair. She was wearing a similar chestplate and gown to what Macha had been in when we found her, and she was draped in a feathered cloak. She had a long, dark sword in her right hand, and her left was on fire, burning with magic.

  “Necromancer,” she said. “The Baron will speak with you.”

  “I’m not really in a talking mood,” I said, glancing over at the elevator. It was almost there.

  “That wasn’t a request.”

  She darted forward, faster than any human could move. She kept her sword back, reaching out with her hand. Lightning darted from it, angling toward me. The death magic captured it, dissipating it before it could connect. But she was anticipating that. It was a distraction. She brought the sword around, swinging the grip down toward my temple.

  Dannie caught her arm, somehow moving almost as quickly as the Morrigan. She held it ahead of me, pushing back against her force.

  “Being dead has to be good for something,” she said, grunting as she added a little extra effort and shoved the Morrigan back.

  The Morrigan scowled, reaching out with her other hand. Fire launched toward Dannie. It was almost a perfect reenactment of the pyro flames that had taken her first pair of legs.

  They didn’t take them again. She rolled away, ducking under the attack and coming up right in front of the Morrigan. She punched her in the face, so hard that I could hear her jaw crack, and her body tumbled back and to the ground.

  The elevator arrived.

  “Dannie,” I said.

  “I hope this thing can take the weight,” Frank said as we piled in.

  “Are you calling me fat?” Amos asked.

  The elevator shifted slightly in answer. The Morrigan turned to look at us, her eyes red and furious. She exploded into a flurry of crows, backing out of the window as the doors closed.

  We started to descend.

  “Burn me once, shame on me,” Dannie said.

  “That was close,” I said.

  “Bitch,” she replied.

  The dragon mark on my back started to burn.

  “Shit,” I said, drawing the attention of the others. “Ash is in trouble.”

  “Samedi?” Frank said.

  I glanced at Dannie. “I’m not sure.”

  Death didn’t take over. She stared back at me, still herself. I didn’t know which of the assholes had tracked Ash down. I only knew he was calling for help.

  The elevator stopped. The doors opened out into the lobby.

  The Morrigan was standing there, waiting for us.

  Dozens of deadies were standing around her.

  “This is like a bad Machine sim,” Dannie said.

  We exited the elevator as a group. The fields were stronger closer to the ground, and I pulled the death magic to me, drawing it in and casting it out. Dannie charged the Morrigan, running at her and forcing her on the defensive. Amos lumbered toward the door, looking to cover the exit. Frank grabbed the nearest deadie and threw it into the next, knocking them both down.

  Dannie made it to the Morrigan, squaring off against her. They sized on another up, circling in preparation of the conflict.

  “Conor, find Ash,” she said.

  I ran to where Amos had stopped, right near the entrance to the hotel. A deadie tried to grab me, but all it took was a touch, and Samedi’s link to it snapped, dropping it to the ground.

  “It’s ugly out there,” Amos said.

  I looked out into the street. It was chaos. The dead were attacking the living. People were screaming and running. I could hear sirens in the distance as Control tried to figure it all out.

  I heard other screaming, too. A loud, shrill call that hurt my ears. As it penetrated the crowd the living fell to their knees, clutching at their ears before toppling over, dead.

  “The other Morrigan,” I said.

  “How the fuck did anyone survive before the reversal with shit like this running around?” Amos said.

  “Maybe they didn’t,” I replied. The brand on my back was still burning, getting hotter as I moved in the right direction toward it.

  We ran out and into the street. The deadies noticed us and came our way, but between Amos’ shotgun and my magic, they weren’t able to reach us. We were halfway down the street when I heard a cry from behind, a shout of defeat that split my soul.

  I spun a
round. Frank was a dozen feet behind us, making his way to Amos and me. The Morrigan emerged from the hotel lobby, holding her sword high in the air and screeching defiantly.

  Dannie was impaled on the blade, her body hanging from it over the bitch’s head.

  “No,” I said, freezing and looking back at her, the fury burning in my gut.

  “Conor,” Amos said. “Conor, forget it.”

  “Dannie,” I said, barely able to speak through the anger. I could hear the souls in the death magic, and I pulled them to me, one after another, gathering my strength.

  “Conor, she ain’t dead,” Amos said. “I know it hurts. I feel it too. But she ain’t dead. She can’t be. She was never alive. We lost her. We need to accept that.”

  I whipped my head around to look at him, eyes wild. I had forgotten. It was so easy to forget. It didn’t diminish the anger. It didn’t reduce the pain. But it reminded me of what I was fighting for. Dannie was gone. She had been gone for months, and I couldn’t bring her back. No matter how much I wanted to.

  But I could set her free.

  “Fuck,” I shouted, releasing the energy of my anger.

  The Morrigan lowered her sword, Dannie’s body sliding off and onto the ground. She didn’t get back up.

  The burning on my back grew more intense. I turned back to it, taking a few steps and stumbling. My heart was racing, my body working so hard. Too hard. I fell to my knees, struggling to breathe.

  “Damn it,” I said between coughs. “I need more time.”

  Then Frank’s arms were around me. He picked me up, slinging me over his shoulder. “I’ve got you, Boss. Which way?”

  I pointed, he ran, charging ahead with Amos beside him, surprising me with his ability to keep up.

  “I think she’s chasing us,” Amos said, glancing back over his shoulder.

  I looked back, too. The Morrigan was gone again, replaced by a murder of crows. It cawed and angled toward us, staying at our heels.

  “Not chasing,” I said. “Corralling.”

  “Are you sure we should be running toward Ash?” Frank asked.

  “No.”

  I wasn’t sure about anything. Where the fuck was Death? Why hadn’t he come to help out?

  “Then why are we running toward Ash?” Frank said.

  “I don’t have any better ideas,” I replied.

  We covered three blocks. There were deadies all around us, people killed by the Morrigan and raised by Samedi. They approached only fast enough to keep us going in the right direction, bringing us to the lich.

  “Conor.”

  I heard the voice to my left turning my head as we passed an alley. Death was standing there, still dressed to the nines in his tux, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “This way,” he said.

  “Frank,” I said. “Left turn, down the alley.”

  He grunted, slowing and shifting direction. Amos followed along.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” I asked.

  My voice was weak. I could still hardly breathe. I had been dying for a long time, but I was close. So close. I knew it. I wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. I knew what I needed to do. I just didn’t know if I could pull it off.

  “Never mind that,” he said. “This way. Follow me.”

  He ran ahead of us, leading us down the alley and away from Ash. I still felt the burning on my back, branding me a traitor for not responding to the call.

  We crossed two blocks. The deadies didn’t seem to notice us, not with Death nearby. The Morrigan had lost us as well. Death guided us through a tall gate, bringing us into a cemetery.

  How appropriate.

  “Prepare the spell,” Death said. “Samedi thinks he has the drop on you. We’ll catch him off-guard.”

  “I don’t have everything I need,” I replied. Not without the Morrigan. Not without Ash.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Ash,” I said.

  “It isn’t me,” Death said, shaking his head. “He found him before I did.”

  Samedi? Damn it.

  As if in reply, the brand on my back went cold.

  Dead cold.

  I breathed in, my body freezing. I couldn’t breathe out. I was choking. Dying. I gasped for air.

  “Not yet, Boss,” Frank said, noticing. He lowered me to the ground, between a pair of tombstones. “You can’t die yet.”

  I choked, my heart and lungs catching up, the exhale finally happening. I gasped again, breathing in and out.

  Frank helped me up and kept me moving inward. The death magic was strong here. Of course, it was. I pulled it to me, whispering the words of the spell and moving my hand. It was all in the intent, all in the emotion and the vision, not the words or the motions. I could sense the magic accumulating, and I directed it toward the door of one of the mausoleums.

  “Whatever you’re doing, Baldie,” Amos said, “do it faster.”

  I risked a look back. I nearly stopped breathing again. Ash was there in the sky, framed by thousands of crows.

  Samedi was on his back.

  It was all coming together at once. Everything and everyone converging on this single spot in the world, the spot where I was standing. I kept pushing the magic out, but my mind flipped to the last time I said goodbye to my wife and daughter. They didn’t know I was never going to come home.

  If they could see me now.

  I reached the end of the spell. I had gone as far as I could without the immortal blood to smear on the door and open the portal.

  Death must have known it because he reappeared at my side.

  Macha was with him.

  So was someone else.

  Her eyes were covered, but I would have known her anywhere.

  Kirin.

  47

  Dead end.

  “What the hell is this?” I said.

  “You wouldn’t give me the dragon,” Death said. “Here’s your immortal, necromancer. Finish the spell.”

  “Conor?” Kirin said, her voice frightened. “Conor, is that you?”

  I didn’t know she was an immortal. She was just a kid. A gorgon, but still a kid. It made sense. Sick, perverted sense.

  Death was a bigger asshole than I had ever imagined.

  “I won’t,” I said.

  “You have to,” Death replied. “He’s coming, Conor, and none of us are strong enough to stop him. Finish the portal.”

  I felt the gust of air as Ash landed, Samedi jumping off his back. I looked over at my brother. At his dead eyes. At the wounds on his sides. Son of a bitch.

  “Conor,” Samedi said. “I warned you not to get involved. I could have saved your life.”

  The murders of crows sank to the ground, rising as two twin sisters. Badb and Nemain. They flanked the lich as he approached.

  “You’re a liar, Samedi,” Death said. “You’ve always been a liar.”

  “Says Hades.” He laughed. “At least I belong in this world.”

  “Conor, finish the spell,” Death said. “Now.”

  I looked at him. I looked back at Samedi. Frank and Amos were facing him, ready to do whatever they could to take him on. Kirin was shivering beside me.

  I wanted to thank Samedi because he had confirmed what I had suspected.

  I didn’t have time.

  “Amos, Frank, buy me some time,” I said. “Kirin, turn to the left.”

  I didn’t know if she would comply or if she would question. I didn’t wait to find out. I reached up, grabbing the cloth tied over her eyes and ripping it away.

  “Conor, what are you doing?” Death said.

  I grabbed Kirin’s arm, turning her more quickly so her gaze would settle sooner.

  Not on Samedi.

  On Death.

  I reached out, putting my hand on Macha’s wrist.

  “Sing, now, or you’re going to die,” I said, gripping it tightly and sending the death magic into her.

  She looked at Death. His eyes were wide, trapped by the go
rgon’s gaze. She looked back at me.

  “Necromancer,” Samedi said.

  He charged toward me, but Frank caught him from the side, slamming into him and sending him tumbling. The Morrigan were on him in an instant, their swords sinking into his flesh. He cried out in pain, throwing an arm back into one of them and knocking them away. Samedi got his hands on him, and his skin shriveled and died, his life force being drained.

  “Get the fuck off,” Amos said, firing his shotgun into the sisters.

  “Sing, damn it,” I hissed.

  Macha started to sing. Ash roared, coming toward us.

  The death magic exploded in my ears, the voices coming in loud and clear. I didn’t hear it as a mass of sad pleas. I heard it as a stadium of cheering, the crowd going wild as if they could sense my intention, as if they knew what I intended to do.

  “Conor.”

  One voice rose above the rest. It said my name. I heard it like a beacon, latching onto it.

  “Conor,” Dannie said. “Finish it.”

  Death was frozen in front of me, turned to stone by Kirin’s gaze. I couldn’t kill him with death magic. Not when he was flesh and blood.

  Stone?

  That I could handle.

  I let go of Macha’s wrist, pushing the power out and into Death. It exploded against him, a force so powerful it wore him away in an instant, reducing him to dust. Ash reached us, his mouth open, his powerful jaws ready to snap me in half. His breath pushed the dust, carrying it forward and into the mausoleum door. It spread across it, painting it.

  His head came down, and I brought my hand up to stop him, crying out in pain as he bit it off, at the same time I touched him, breaking Samedi’s link. He tumbled lifelessly to the ground, my hand still in his mouth.

  “Keep singing,” I said to Macha.

  The portal was opening behind us, the doorway becoming solid black. I could smell the netherworld beyond.

  I used the stumps of my hands, pushing at my coat pocket, turning it over until the stone fell out and onto the ground at my feet. My blood spilled on top of it, causing it to start to glow.