by Karen Duvall
Natalie and my grandmother passed each other knowing looks.
I stared at one and then the other. “What am I missing?”
“The facts of life,” my grandmother said.
I blew a raspberry at her. “Please. I’m a grown-up. I know all about the birds and the bees.”
“Not when the birds are angels and the bees are Hatchet knights,” she said.
I braced myself. “Do tell.”
Natalie scooted to the edge of the love seat and leaned forward. “I was promised to an Arelim angel the day I became a woman.”
I coughed into my hand. “The day you first started your period is the same day your union was arranged?”
She nodded.
“But you didn’t even know Camael yet.”
She shook her head. “We didn’t meet until my twenty-first birthday.”
“I see.” I studied her face. “How old are you now?”
“Twenty-two.”
They’d known each other for at least a year so that had to count for something, though I wasn’t sure what.
“Do you love him?” I asked.
Her eyebrows raised in a quizzical arch. “No, but we care about each other. Love isn’t important.”
“I beg to differ,” I said.
My grandmother patted my knee. “Chalice, dear, we grow to love our Arelim mates if they choose to lose their wings. If they don’t, we take their seed and they go the way of the Fallen.”
I gasped. “Just like that?”
“It’s how it’s always been. Our guardians have had centuries to think about their choices,” my grandmother said, as if it were as natural as choosing what college to attend.
“And the abandoned knight who’s left to care for a baby all alone? What happens to her?” I immediately thought of my mother.
“The Arelim make sure she’s well cared for,” Natalie said. “And there are other Hatchet knight families to help if needed.”
“That’s right,” my grandmother said. “I rarely saw my own mother. I was fostered by another family.”
An awkward silence followed as I digested all this information. I didn’t like what I was hearing. It sounded so…archaic. “So why are the facts of life so different for us?” I finally asked.
“A knight will conceive immediately after intercourse with her guardian,” my grandmother said.
Unbelievable. “How very clinical and unromantic.”
Natalie shrugged. “Camael and I will stay together as husband and wife after he becomes human.”
Yet Barachiel, my own father, had chosen to keep his wings and join the ranks of the Fallen. What was up with that?
“As for you, my darling granddaughter,” my grandmother said. “Rafael doesn’t have to love you to want a life with you after you conceive.”
Oh, my God. “I’m not conceiving anything with Rafe unless it’s to conceive our next fight.”
“Then you won’t conceive at all,” Natalie said with a note of sadness.
“What?” I didn’t think I heard her right.
“I thought you understood,” my grandmother said slowly. She took my hand in hers. “Chalice, it’s not physically possible for you to bear a child without an Arelim mate.”
* * *
I must have subconsciously chosen a dreamless sleep because I didn’t see Aydin at all that day. I’d slept deeply and wakened with the moonlight, feeling alone and depressed. My conversation with my grandmother and Natalie kept replaying in my mind. Arranged couplings, not even a real marriage. And I had to accept the fact that I was barren.
I never wanted children anyway. I wasn’t the mom type. I’d never spent more than ten minutes with a child my entire life, so what would I miss? It was a relief to know I wouldn’t become saddled with maternal responsibilities. I should be thrilled to death with this news. So why was I feeling so down?
I knew just the ticket to lift my spirits: get back to work. The first order of business would be to scavenge the fatherhouse leftovers, if there were any.
I met with Elmo and Quin in the coffee shop, which had become our unofficial headquarters. After relaying the previous day’s experience with the wind charm, I tolerated their scolding and advice until we could get to the good part.
Trying very hard not to roll my eyes, I said, “You guys make some really good points. I appreciate the warnings.”
They both looked at me with narrowed eyes, their lips tight against what I imagined were gritted teeth. “I mean it,” I said with a nod. “I’d be lost without you two.”
“No, you’d be dead,” Quin said before taking a sip of tea. He pointed at his cup. “I’ll take another one of these, thanks, Elmo.”
“Your legs broken?” Elmo peered at him from beneath a wad of wiry white eyebrows. “You know where the tea bags are. Help yourself.”
Quin shrugged and scooted back his chair to stand. I watched him meander toward the counter and stop along the way to have a quick chat with a young chimera couple. They’d brought their baby along. Or was it a cub? Hard to tell with all the hair. Or fur.
Elmo snapped his fingers, making me jump.
“What?” I tore a piece off one of his excellent honey rolls and popped it in my mouth. While chewing I said, “Don’t snap at me.”
He grinned. “I need your attention. Fast, before Quin comes back.”
What could he not want the angel whisperer to hear? “I’m listening.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “All this sleuthing has uncovered some mysteries I didn’t know about. Like a changing charm I had no idea existed until now.”
I’d never heard of it, either. “What does it do? And why don’t you want Quin to know?”
“It’s kind of evil for a charm so it’s probably not a good idea for the Arelim to know about it. However, I do believe it can help Aydin.”
I stopped chewing. “Because…?”
“Because it could make him human again.”
I scowled and swallowed the lump of dough in my throat. “Shojin’s heart will do that.”
“What if you never get it back?”
I took a deep breath as I considered that possibility. “What makes this charm evil?”
“It needs angel blood to work.”
That could be a problem. Now I understood why he didn’t want Quin to know. “How can I get my hands on it?”
“I don’t know.”
Feeling defeated, I slouched in my seat. “You’re no help.”
“I mean, I know where it might be if it wasn’t destroyed by the explosion that took the fatherhouse.”
I was about to head there anyway so I added this changing charm to my task list. If it were there, I’d find it. “What does it look like?”
Elmo glanced toward the kitchen and we watched Quin standing over a kettle, apparently waiting for it to boil. “I’ve never seen it myself so I can only tell you how it was described to me,” he said.
I wished I had a photo, or at least a drawing. “Quick, tell me.”
“It’s very old and made of metal that rusts. Could be iron.”
“That’s impossible, Elmo. Iron repels magic.”
“Not if it’s strong enough,” he said. “And this charm is reported to be very powerful. I’m thinking that if it was in the fatherhouse at all it would have been secured in a safe place.”
Gavin had mentioned a safe to me once. In the basement. But he’d never said anything about a changing charm, not that I’d expect him to. He got a kick out of keeping secrets from me. “I know where to start searching. Describe it for me.”
“It’s shaped like a key.”
“A skeleton key?”
He nodded. “A fancy one with scrollwork around the image of an animal’s head.”
“What kind of an animal?”
Elmo paused before saying, “Wolf.”
I stood up straighter in the chair. “This isn’t a werewolf’s transformation charm, is it?”
He shrugged. “It may have be
en at one time, but my sources tell me it can change anyone into anything.” He peered at the nonhuman crowd in his coffee shop. “Anything.”
Quin returned with his tea. He glanced between us and said, “Did I miss something?”
“I was just telling Chalice about a way to make it easier for her to search the fatherhouse ruins,” Elmo said.
I scowled at him and asked, “You were?”
Elmo grinned. “It’s called ash eating.”
“Sounds delicious,” I said with a grimace. “And how will eating ashes help me find anything?”
“It’s common knowledge that if you consume the ashes of the dead, you can see them. At least for a little while.”
I squinted at him. It might have been common knowledge where he came from, but not on this side of the veil. “I don’t need to eat ashes to see dead people, Elmo. They show up just fine on their own.”
“You once told me the fatherhouse was alive,” Elmo said. “If you eat its ashes, you might see the house as it looked while it was still standing. Then it would be easier to, you know—” he flicked a quick look at Quin “—find stuff.”
“So I just choke down a mouthful of ash and that’s all there is to it?”
“Of course not.” Elmo left us to go to the kitchen. He returned with a small blue bottle topped with a cork. “You need to mix it with faerie juice first.” He handed me the bottle.
I pulled the cork and took a sniff. Wrinkling my nose, I said, “I have to get drunk first?”
Elmo shrugged. “Dandelion wine. Makes the ashes go down a lot smoother.”
seventeen
GHOSTS WERE EVERYWHERE. THEY SLITHERED out from between broken boards, floated over piles of rubble and drifted through stacks of brick that once encased the Vyantara fatherhouse. This place was worse than a cemetery.
Considering the number of sacrifices and murders that had happened here, it wasn’t surprising to see so many specters. These ruins were their home. They had nowhere else to go.
Violence had shaken them loose from bodies that shed their souls at the time of death. The souls went one place and these shells of grief and terror stayed behind, but that was just my theory.
I walked up the front steps and peered through the gaping maw that had once been covered by a massive oak door. Black and gray ashes covered the floor of the gutted building. I stepped over broken glass and kicked aside chunks of charred wood and the twisted metal that had once been part of display cases for hundreds of cursed and charmed objects.
This area of the house looked well picked over. The staircase leading down to the basement was completely burned away. If I wanted to get down there I’d have to jump.
The sound of creaking floorboards above alerted me to the possibility I wasn’t alone. I eased into a corner and pressed my back to the wall, standing as still as possible while I listened. I picked up two male voices, one of which I recognized right away. It was Evan, the wannabe sorcerer from the sewer rats.
The beam from a flashlight bobbed along the wall above my head and I ducked. It swept away from me and I exhaled a relieved breath. I wasn’t in the mood for more confrontations with this guy. I didn’t want to waste time volleying fireballs when I could be searching for charms and curses. I imagined Evan was here to do the same.
I could wait until he left, but if I did that there was a good chance he’d find me. My best bet was to assume my role of thief and make my rummaging quiet as a whisper, then get the hell out.
Ash blanketed the corner I crouched in so I scooped up a handful and let it sift down into Elmo’s open wine bottle. Holding my thumb over the top, I gave it a couple of good shakes before tipping it to my lips. I held my breath as I took a giant swig of the stuff.
I stifled a cough and practically passed out in the process. Elmo hadn’t mentioned how nasty it would taste. Maybe the wine was okay without the ashes, but I made it a point to stay away from alcohol. It dulled the senses and I was afraid I might enjoy that a little too much.
I blinked and watched for a change through the fog that was my night vision. Within minutes the house appeared to rebuild itself, brick by brick and board by board. The entire structure reformed in front of my eyes, but not as the solid house it used to be. Like a transparent photograph, it superimposed itself over its own charred and scattered remains.
I wondered if others had tried the ash-eating trick, but I doubted anyone but the Vyantara knew the house had once been alive.
My gaze swept the room for any goodies that could have escaped the Vyantara’s scrutiny. I recognized dozens. I spotted part of a coin jutting up through a crack in the floor. The ghost house confirmed it was a Chinese five-poison charm that protected against the venom of snakes, spiders, toads, centipedes and scorpions. I had to have it.
Dust and ash rained down on me as Evan and whoever was with him walked across the floor above. It was so unstable it surprised me that neither of them had fallen through yet. Maybe Evan used the flying charm to keep himself levitated. But what about his friend?
I crawled out from my corner and dashed to the coin. Grabbing it between thumb and forefinger, I yanked, but it wouldn’t budge. I needed something to pry it loose.
A nail rolled out from under my foot. I wedged it in the crack and wiggled it until the coin popped free. When I heard a loud crackling sound over my head, I stuffed the coin in my pocket and just as I did, the ceiling caved in.
I’d barely rolled out of the way before plaster and planks of burned, brittle wood came crashing down where I’d been standing. A cloud of ash and dust exploded in the air around the boy who landed beside me. He didn’t get up. The fall had knocked him out cold.
I looked up to see Evan hovering in the space where the ceiling used to be.
“I knew it!” he shouted at me. “They told me you’d come snooping around and try to steal more stuff.”
It would be pointless for me to argue the fact that I’d been the one to steal most of this stuff in the first place. Though I wanted to recover everything I could find, there was only one object I couldn’t leave without…if it was even here.
“You’re not getting away this time,” Evan said as he sprouted a fireball from his hand and balanced it on his finger.
Sheesh, this was getting old. There might still be some good shit in this house and I didn’t want it erupting in a second blaze. Evan needed to rein in his ego and consider what he was doing and for whom. Stupid kid.
I held up my hands. “No more fire.”
“Do you surrender?”
No. “Yes.” As I said it I looked down, expecting to see a vortex open and swallow me whole. I darted my gaze around the room, searching for portal paintings, where Gavin might be spying on me from wherever dead sorcerers go when they die. But the paintings had all been fried to a crisp. The walls were bare except for some peeled wallpaper and large patches of scorch marks.
Evan lost altitude and hovered like a flying insect a few feet off the floor in front of me. He hadn’t lost his fireball. The flaming orb bobbed in the palm of his hand.
“Tell you what,” Evan said while tossing the fireball from one hand to the other. “Since you can see better than anyone I know, show me where all the objects are and I’ll let you go.”
The unconscious boy on the floor looked familiar. “I think your friend needs help.”
“Hey, Duster,” Evan said. “You okay, man?”
The boy groaned. I remembered him, Lilly’s boyfriend. I wondered if he knew she was dead.
“He’s fine. You should worry more about yourself.” The fireball grew in Evan’s hand.
I shrugged and darted my gaze around the room. “I’ll help you search.” Like hell I would. Whatever I found was mine. “But you really should call an ambulance for Duster.” I listened to Duster’s breathing and heartbeat. Both sounded strong. He’d be lucky if all he had were a concussion and some bruises.
Evan waved me ahead of him, using the fireball like a gun pointed at my back. I felt it
s heat through my coat.
My gaze swept the floor and walls and I tried to avoid being distracted by the double image of the ghost house and its carcass. I had to blink a lot and my eyes hurt from staring so hard.
Something slithered across the floor toward us, then stopped. Its bulbous form molded into something recognizable and my stomach clenched. Damn. The ghost of the fatherhouse’s dead housemother, Zee. Hadn’t she made my life miserable enough when she was alive? Cruel, jealous, power hungry, and Gavin’s plaything all rolled up in one. Why couldn’t the dead just stay…dead?
Her black eyes bored into me and her gray, ghostly lips peeled back in a sneer of contempt. I imagined she hadn’t wasted her time wandering within these walls waiting for someone to haunt. Her having been a witch made it likely that she’d learned some new tricks as a shadow of her former self.
“Why did you stop?” Evan asked, and my back got a few degrees warmer. “Find something?”
“I sure did,” I told him, and it was no lie. I backed up, angling to avoid his fireball, and pressed up against him. “Spooky old houses turn me on.”
He snorted. “I just bet they do. Keep moving.”
I stood on tiptoe so my face was inches from his. “My heart’s beating so fast I can hardly breathe.” I gasped into his ear to demonstrate, keeping an eye on Zee’s ghost as I did.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I asked him.
Zee’s sneer morphed into a smile.
“I don’t believe in anything I can’t see,” he told me, and nudged me away. “Like I can’t see you and me together. I’m out of your league, babe. Pretty boy Duster is more your type.”
I pretended to be insulted and stomped ahead, though I watched Zee from the corner of my eye. She puffed up, appearing to double in size, and I had a fair idea what she planned to do next. Bring it on, bitch.
I doubted she had any interest in the few trinkets left behind inside the fatherhouse. Zee’s shadow wanted life again and Evan would make the perfect vehicle for escape. Why not me? Because she knew that I had the knowledge and the means to expel her. Evan didn’t have a clue. Most nonbelievers like him were easy to possess and Zee would take full advantage.