Shadow motioned to the churning darkness that filled the far reaches of the church. “It keeps getting out. We’re doing our best to stop it, but it’s getting stronger. It’s almost like it has a mind of its own.”
Wraith stared, dumbstruck.
Nightstick clenched his fists, then kicked a pew. “I can control it!”
“Really?” Shadow asked. “Because from where I’m standing—”
“Don’t lecture me, little girl. I’ve allowed you and the others to leave—”
“You’ve allowed us?” Shadow asked.
“That’s right,” Nightstick said. “You wander because of my largess, and it’s a gift that can be taken away.”
“Just try and see what happens,” Shadow said.
“Don’t tempt me.”
Anger began to stir inside Wraith.
As if in response, the roiling shadows seemed to grow more frenetic and the wind outside responded in kind.
“Don’t forget that I’m not alone,” Shadow said.
Wraith felt a pervasive sensation of being watched. She glanced around nervously, and that’s when she noticed the carved angels all around her. Every one of them was staring at her.
“You think the lot of you can stand against me?” Nightstick asked.
“If need be,” Shadow said. “You’re just the steward of power, a caretaker. And you know, she’ll never let you—”
“She has what I allow her to have,” he said. “And this is my domain, not hers. She doesn’t want to know. Or have you forgotten as well?”
“You’re wrong,” Shadow said. “Maybe she didn’t, but she does now. You’re just afraid of what that means for you.”
“I’m afraid of nothing!” he bellowed and raised a hand. “I hold power beyond imagining!”
“Leave her alone!” Wraith shouted and rushed forward.
Both figures turned to her and stared. Nightstick’s face was the usual mask of shadow, but Wraith could sense the surprise on his face.
Wraith stepped in front of Shadow and glared at Nightstick. “Don’t you touch her.”
Nightstick looked between the two girls. “You brought her here?”
“No,” Shadow said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how—”
“No one likes trespassers,” Nightstick said, turning his attention back to Wraith.
“Interesting way to word it,” Shadow said.
“I’m just the steward, right? A guard dog,” Nightstick said. “Any issues with the arrangements need to be taken up with management.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Wraith asked.
She couldn’t say how, but Wraith knew Nightstick smiled. “Unfortunately, management isn’t available just now.”
Something about his voice and the way it echoed here made Wraith more than a little uneasy, but she didn’t move. Nightstick stepped forward. Wraith took a step back and felt Shadow behind her. Somehow knowing her friend was there pushed back at the fear.
“I won’t let you take her,” Wraith said. “I won’t let you hurt her, not again.”
Nightstick froze in place. “What? No—”
Formulations appeared in the air around Wraith and she drew them to her. More calculations began flowing down from the carved angels around her, and without looking, Wraith knew they had followed her movements and were watching her still.
“No,” Nightstick said looking around. “You’re confused, I’m not—”
As her rage began to build, the shadows churned and began whispering in a thousand voices.
“It’s going to get loose again!” Shadow said.
“Get out! Get her out of here!” Nightstick shouted, then turned to the shadows, lifting his shillelagh. “That’s enough from you!”
“Time to go, Stretch,” Shadow said and pulled at Wraith’s shoulder.
Wraith had taken half a dozen steps before she’d even realized she was moving.
Nightstick swung his shillelagh at the darkness, shouting curses. It recoiled from the blows and retreated.
“What is this place?” Wraith said, turning to her friend.
Shadow looked at her with sad eyes, ageless wisdom in those dark pools. “You know it, but you’ve forgotten.”
“What does that mean?”
The building shook around them and the crucifix that hung above the altar fell with a crash.
“Soon,” Shadow said and cupped Wraith’s face in her hands.
Wraith wanted to ask more, but Shadow kissed her forehead and everything went away.
Wraith opened her eyes. She was back in the safe house, lying in bed, her bed. Toto lay next to her, still and sleeping but warm against her side. She didn’t move, just stared at the ceiling, following the lines in the wooden beams, and she knew she’d done this countless times before. She also knew that she’d done it while feeling this same sense of loss weighing on her heart.
But it had been just a dream. Hadn’t it?
She turned her head and saw Ovation, Geek, Con, and Sprout were asleep on the other beds, away from her. That was why the beds had been arrange this way, so she could look over her friends as they rested, even if these were different friends.
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, taking in all the familiar scents, letting them wrap around her like a soft blanket. She went back to the dream, or not-dream, and tried to figure out what it all meant. After a few minutes she let it go, tiring of chasing her proverbial tail. Instead, she decided on a course of action.
She moved carefully, but Toto woke immediately.
“Shh,” she said.
When he cocked his head, she leaned in close.
“I’m going without them, boy,” she said. “They have their own fight, and this one is mine.” She looked around. “They’ll be safe here, no one can get in. Besides, it’s me they’re after.”
Toto looked at her for a long moment, then he rose and stretched.
“No, boy,” she said and glanced at Sprout. “You stay here and watch over them for me.”
Toto whimpered a little and buried his face into Wraith’s neck.
“I want you to come too, buddy,” she said, hugging the big dog. “But I need you here to keep Sprout from getting scared. I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
Toto looked at her then licked her face a few times.
She hugged the dog again, petting him as she did. “Thanks, boy.”
Toto gave her a doggy grin, then he went and settled back on the bed, facing the sleeping quartet.
Wraith got to her feet and gathered her belongings, including the gauntlet and goggles, careful not to make a sound. As she stepped around the room, she instinctively knew which boards creaked and avoided them. When she was ready, she stepped to the door, set the goggles on top of her head, then slipped on the glove and ran her fingers over the doorframe. It was a slow process, gently unweaving the seemingly infinite threads that locked this door, and perhaps every other door as well.
When it was done, she wrapped the door in another calculation and opened it. On the other side she could see a neighborhood just waking up. Before stepping through, she glanced back at her friends. They were her friends, weren’t they? She looked at her bed, where Toto was watching her. She realized she didn’t remember going to it after locking the door, so someone had put her to bed.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Steeling her will, she drew a breath, and stepped through the door. She closed it slowly and softly, then pulled the equation from it. She couldn’t risk them following her, so she let the door close. She’d come back as soon as she could, probably before they even woke. Then she’d find someplace for them.
Chapter Nineteen
“Trust me,” Elaine said into her phone from the passenger seat. “This is a legit offer.”
She shook her head. “No, Donovan’s gone. In fact, his club is sanctuary central.” She smiled and nodded at Dante. “Good, I’ll see you there later. Tell everyone, and I mean everyone.”
Dante made a turn, then cast a glance back at Siobhan in the rearview mirror. The Fian was scanning the area, her right index finger tapping the handle of her gun.
“Park up here,” Elaine said and gestured.
Dante found a spot and pulled in, then turned to Elaine. “So what’s the word?”
She smiled. “No one heard about any snatchings last night,” Elaine said. “And the word is being spread to come in.”
“I can see how much they mean to you,” Dante said. “We’ll do all we can to keep them safe.”
Elaine looked at him for a long moment, then frowned a little. “I really misjudged you,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Siobhan sighed then slid out of the car, muttering in Irish.
“That legendary Fian patience,” Elaine said.
The three of them walked up the hill in silence, past the houses just beginning to stir on a quiet Sunday morning. Dante led the way, grateful the street was lined with, and well covered by, trees. He and Elaine might have the benefit of glamour to blend in, but Siobhan was anything but inconspicuous. Dante inhaled deeply as they walked. The faint scent of brewing coffee poured from most of the houses, and he smiled.
Dante focused on the overpass ahead, or rather the spot beneath it. He’d heard stories of the Freemont Troll. Mortals thought it a curious piece of art, but the fae delighted in the fact that one of their own was able to hide in plain sight. When Dante finally caught a glimpse of the troll, he stopped and stared. He hadn’t been expecting it to be such an old troll, or to have grown so large. It appeared to mortal eyes as a large monstrosity of concrete, buried to his waist, one massive hand resting over a VW Beetle. If he were to rise from the ground, he’d be near forty feet tall. The sculpture only had one visible eye, but the actual troll had two. Aside from that, there was no glamour to him.
“Bloody hell,” Siobhan said as she came up behind Dante.
“Hey, Freemont,” Elaine said and waved as she stepped past both Dante and Siobhan.
The troll turned his massive head and his exaggerated frown eased, becoming a gentle smile. “Hello, Elaine,” he said, his voice low and rumbling. It would be easy to confuse his speech for especially heavy road noise from the overpass. “I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”
“Sorry about that,” Elaine said as she stood in front of the huge troll.
Dante and Siobhan exchanged a glance, a silent agreement not to be shown up, and then both joined Elaine.
“I’ve brought some, um, friends,” Elaine said.
“Oh, I like new faces,” Freemont said. “I see so many, but I always like to see more.”
“This is Siobhan, of the Fianna,” Elaine said.
“Been a long time since I’ve seen a Fian,” Freemont said. “Pleasure to meet you, Lady Siobhan.”
Siobhan swallowed as she eyed the massive hands. After less than a second, she bowed. “Aye, and you. May I call you Freemont?”
“Of course,” Freemont said. Then he smiled more and chuckled, a low rumbling sound not entirely unlike a rock slide. “I don’t remember the Fianna being so polite in my youth.”
“On behalf of my clan,” Siobhan said, “I do apologize and hope you’ll find us fairer company now.”
Dante arched an eyebrow.
Siobhan didn’t look at him, but she did smile, just a little.
Freemont smiled more. “So I do.”
Elaine gestured to Dante, and he stepped forward. “And this is—”
“Oh, I know who you are, Regent,” Freemont said and bowed, lower than Dante would’ve thought possible for being half buried.
Dante bowed in reply. “I’m impressed, Freemont. You honor me.”
“No less than you deserve,” Freemont said. “I might not wander like I once did, but I still listen when something is worth hearing, and I’ve heard much of you through the years.”
“I know leprechauns who’d envy that kind of information flow,” Dante said.
Freemont laughed again. “As do I, though truth be told, I hear more than a little from them.”
“That’s actually what brings us here,” Dante said. “Not leprechauns, but—”
“The missing changelings,” Freemont said.
Dante nodded.
Freemont’s infectious smile faded back to a heavy frown. “Sad business, that is.”
“I’m here to see if I can stop it,” Dante said. “If there’s anything you can tell me to help, I’d be in your debt.” Dante felt Elaine and Siobhan both look at him.
“I have no need of debts or favors anymore, Regent,” Freemont said. “I live for the magic in the laughter and smiles of children. The joy of mortal lovers stealing kisses when they think no one is looking.”
“Then help me,” Dante said.
Freemont sighed. “It’s an old evil that gathers these children. An evil best forgotten and not spoken of, but I think you know this.”
“I do.”
“I know little else, except to say that shadows are not always to be feared,” Freemont said. “Sometimes there is safety in the shadows. Not all who come are there to steal, some are to save.”
Dante looked from Elaine to Siobhan and back, but they both just shrugged.
“I’ve seen the true evil,” Freemont said. “Weeks ago four changeling children came to me, desperate for my protection.” Freemont’s face turned hard. “I gave it, destroying two who’d come to take what was not theirs. Now that darkness stays well away from here and many more children find safety instead.”
“On behalf of the court and the Cruinnigh, I thank you,” Dante said. “Though I know you don’t need or want thanks, I offer it all the same.”
Freemont gestured with his massive hand for Dante to come closer.
Dante did, well aware that hand could swallow him whole, leaving nothing visible beyond its stony grasp.
“I tell you true,” Freemont said in a low whisper. “Your fears are founded, but incomplete. There are more players at this game than you’re aware.”
“What do you mean?” Dante asked.
“The mortals have learned that we and our world, the world they thought existed only stories and legends, is real. They have found power once more, hoping to regain past glories, I think,” Freemont said. “Though as ever, their actions are cloaked in magnanimity.”
The sound of laughter brought Dante’s next question up short. He turned, but the source of the laughter was still out of sight. When he looked back at Freemont, the troll had resumed his long-held pose. A moment later, a small mob of laughing children, the oldest perhaps nine, came running up and began climbing on Freemont. A group of adults stepped past Dante, not noticing him, but giving Siobhan a wide berth, and began taking pictures of the children.
Dante saw the corners of Freemont’s mouth turn up into a small smile, and Dante smiled too before turning to Elaine and Siobhan and gesturing for them to go.
“Any idea what any of that meant?” Siobhan asked when they were well away.
“I’m not sure,” Dante said. “He confirmed who was responsible, though I’m still unsure as to the motives. The short-term motives, I mean.”
“What do you suppose he meant about the mortals learning of us?” Elaine asked. “The Fianna are mortal, and they’re involved in fae matters.”
Dante glanced at Siobhan. “But they’re not mortal, technically speaking.”
“We ain’t bleeding immortals,” Siobhan said.
“No,” Dante agreed. “But neither are you mundane, and I think that’s what he meant. I’m more interested that he mentioned saving four changeling children from being kidnapped.”
“W
hat’s our next move, then?” Siobhan asked.
“We need to find those kids,” Dante said.
“The market,” Elaine said. “It’s where they’re most likely to be. Although we may have trouble finding them. I doubt they’re advertising that they escaped.”
“I noticed Freemont didn’t mention any names,” Dante said.
“Even so,” Elaine said. “It’ll be good for you get out there, let them see your face and show them things really have changed, that someone does care and is offering to protect them.”
“A goodwill mission, then?” Siobhan asked.
“Don’t get carried away,” Elaine said. “Most of them still won’t trust you, and I’m sure I’ve lost some credibility by helping you. I’ll accept that if it saves lives, but it will still sound better coming from me than you.”
“Lead the way,” Dante said. “And I’ll try to hang back so the kids still think you’re cool.”
Elaine rolled her eyes and started walking.
Siobhan didn’t succeed in containing a chuckle, but she didn’t really try either.
Chapter Twenty
In typical Seattle fashion, the gray skies gave way to a drizzle. Wraith pulled up her hood and continued to stare. Despite the early hour, the market was filling with people. She pulled her oversized jacket tight around her, pushed the goggles down over her eyes, and stepped into the chaos. Her stomach rumbled at the scents wafting from the food vendors: coffee, bacon, crepes, and waffles. Hood pulled low, she kept walking, scanning the booths for an old man selling charms, and hoping there really was a wizard. People avoided her, most doing so unconsciously. She knew they weren’t bad people; they just didn’t like being reminded of how hard life could be. But that didn’t make her feel any better.
It seemed that everything was available for sale. There were vendors selling furniture, clothes, jewelry, books, music, crafts of all kinds, and bicycles. It wasn’t long before Wraith saw not everyone was ignoring her. In fact, several people were staring at her so hard she could feel it without even looking. A quick glance showed her fifties of all kinds. Most were buskers—kids playing music, singing, juggling, or the like, for money. A few were selling various pieces of detritus from the “normal” world that had been refashioned into art, jewelry, or the like. Wraith kept moving but scanned the items, some of which had traces of magic drifting off of them.
The Forgotten Page 18