by Lee French
“The original seal had no effect on magic, or anything else. Instead, it bound the ghostly aura to the ground, which effectively trapped anything that might become a ghost inside the ground. With no way to create new memories or trigger existing ones, the energies eventually dissipated. More or less. Because I did nothing to the other auras, nothing happened to magic.
“It took me five years to collect and store the power I needed to craft something so monumental. I expect the new seal to require roughly the same amount of time.”
Claire stared, waiting for the part where Iulia explained how to cut that time down. But Iulia offered nothing else. “Earth will have magical mutant things and ghosts roaming around for the next five years?”
Iulia shrugged. “First, I believe the magical mutant things were caused directly by you. Justin, of course, broke the creature seals in this area, leading to a vulnerability. When you cut your locket off from the Palace, you caused unexpected turbulence in that node.”
“Wait a minute. That was your idea. You explained what to do and I did it. If you’d told me—”
“I did use the word ‘unexpected.’ ” Crossing her arms, Iulia glared at the wall. “Perhaps if Caius hadn’t tortured me for two millennia, I might have been able to concentrate better on all the potential repercussions of my plan. We were both rather focused on our goals. Let’s leave it at that. At any rate, that type of magical event isn’t the worst thing that can happen. Mingling with ley lines is the most likely explanation for how humans became sentient in the first place. That’s certainly how birds became dragons.”
Leeloo climbed onto the coffee table, trailing yarn hooked on her wings and tail. “Dragons smart!”
“Yes, Leeloo. You’re very smart.” Iulia moved the dragon to her lap and teased the yarn loose. “The other seals I created suppressed that kind of activity while also binding specific creature types. By doing so, I may have prevented another species from gaining sentience, which may have either saved or doomed mankind, depending upon what it might’ve been.”
So long as Claire didn’t get all the blame, she could let it go. If those giant bugs killed anyone, though, she now knew she bore some responsibility for it. “Fine. The second point?”
“Yes, the second point. Freely wandering ghosts are the Earth’s natural state. It’s only been otherwise for about two thousand years. With the seal gone, ghosts will be able to pop up and do things again. The next five years will be challenging for most people. Ghosts will devour each other until they have enough power to affect humans. At that point, people will die. But it will be witches, not Knights, who find ways to protect everyone else. Knights are just men with horses and muscles now.”
Claire frowned. Anne had helped as much as she could, but when it came to fighting things, a witch lacked the training. She supposed some witches might have learned how to handle weapons and battle, but with Knights around to take care of that, most had no reason. Why learn to punch things when you could make them barf at will? Anne had proven how effective that could be against Claire.
Despite thinking this, she chose not to contradict Iulia, or tell her about the two swords and two sets of armored clothing she’d forged. Maybe knowing would change Iulia’s plans, but Claire didn’t quite trust her. Between her body’s state and being trapped here, volunteering information felt like too much cooperation.
She set the subject aside. Less thinking about it meant less chance of blurting it out. “What’s my part in this? I mean, you have my body. You must think I can help in some specific way.”
“I thought your locket might serve as a reservoir, or possibly a new focal point. So far, it’s proven resistant to my efforts to remove it from your corpse. I’ve tried three times now. Thankfully, after it electrocuted me the first time, I was prepared and haven’t been seriously harmed. The locket, however, remains stubbornly fused to your flesh.”
“Caius did that.” Claire touched the spot on her chest and wondered what he’d done. Something more than he intended? Maybe. “Because I asked him to. So no one else could take it away from me.”
Iulia snorted. “He succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. Much like the enigma of your dagger’s continued existence, his work survived his destruction. But since there’s a common link in both cases,” she gestured to Claire, “I assume it’s more about you than him. He lacked the finesse and motivation to do anything particularly complex. In any case, I’m hopeful you can remove it.”
“Me? How? I’m made of mist.”
“No. You’re made of memories and powered by that node under this wretched city. Mist is just a default pseudo-material. As to how, I don’t know. This is an entirely unique situation. My best guess? Try to pick up your dagger and cut the locket out.” Iulia gestured to the dagger on the table.
Claire stifled surprise. If Iulia wanted to harm her, she wouldn’t suggest picking up a dagger. It had been designed to destroy ghosts, but it was still a sharp piece of metal. Handing a weapon to either enemy or prey was stupid. Iulia wasn’t stupid. Claire wondered what game she’d been forced into playing.
“Time is not our friend, Claire. The five years begins when I get the locket in my hands and not a moment before.”
Concern over people being hurt by wandering ghosts forced Claire to lean toward the dagger. But she didn’t want to touch it. If she could pick it up, that meant she had to try cutting the locket off her corpse and then hand it over to Iulia. If she couldn’t, that would feel like a setback in her quest to become solid, and Iulia would come up with other experiments. Not knowing meant neither succeeding or failing. And that sounded good.
Under Iulia’s rapt gaze, Claire sighed. She still had no options. Iulia had stacked the deck in her own favor and Claire hadn’t come prepared for a fight. Preferring to avoid being beaten up, she reached out and lay her fingers on the dagger’s hilt. The cool metal resisted her. She wrapped her hand around it and picked it up, not sure how to feel about it. Cutting into her own dead body bothered her. Having this dagger in her hand bothered her. Why this one thing? Why not Enion? Why not Drew?
“Excellent,” Iulia purred. “See if you can remove the locket.”
Claire frowned at the short blade. “What if I get zapped by whatever got you?”
“Then I’m wrong and your assistance will no longer be needed. But I doubt I’m wrong. This is, after all, my area of expertise. I’m quite confident about my plan.”
That confidence bothered Claire. Iulia had been working on this for a day and already knew what to do? What if she handed over the locket and Iulia used it to control or destroy her? Justin had used the locket once to control all the dragons. Did it still have that link through Enion? Did the owner of the locket get to own Claire, Enion, all the other dragons, and Drew?
More than likely, Iulia had some idea of the amount of power she potentially gained control over with possession of the locket. Just because the woman said something that rang true didn’t mean she’d said everything. Enough foster parents had lied by omission to Claire that she knew it could happen.
Dagger in hand, Claire drifted off the couch. This blade had a physical presence, which meant it had the capability to harm Iulia. If Claire appeared to follow orders, an attack might take Iulia by surprise. Claire could escape and get Justin to collect her body, then they could figure things out. Only Iulia stood in the way.
As she floated past Iulia, Claire pictured the assault. She’d use a quick, surprise attack. The dagger would hit Iulia in the shoulder. Unless Iulia had enchanted her clothing, that would work well. To be on the safe side, she resolved to aim for Iulia’s neck. Hacking Caius’s neck in half had worked well enough for Justin to finish the job.
Claire cleared the couch, whirled, and thrust the dagger at Iulia’s neck. The blade smacked into an unseen force before it reached Iulia’s flesh. The impact jarred the knife loose from Claire’s hand. It fell, rolled under the couch, flew out the other side, and snapped into Iulia’s outstretched hand.
>
“Oh, Claire.” Iulia sighed and shook her head. “You’re so predictable. Such a Knight. See a problem, try to stab it. Here I thought we could be friends. We have so much in common.”
Crushed by her failure, Claire backed away. She should have suspected Iulia would prepare for that. Not expecting it made Claire a fool. Worse, Iulia had no reason to trust her anymore. Claire opened her mouth, but had no idea what to say. No apology could diminish the fact that Claire took the first opportunity presented to try to kill Iulia.
“You clearly see me as your enemy, which is silly. I’m not your enemy. We want the same thing, at least in broad terms. But if you won’t cooperate, I’ll have to find other ways to get things done.” Iulia held up her clear crystal and sighed. “This could’ve been fun, or at least pleasant. We could’ve worked together. So much for that.” Tiny tendrils of white light crackled across Iulia’s eyes.
Claire froze, expecting the worst.
Chapter 13
Drew
Kay punched through Claire’s face, shattering the scene of her death. Animated shards in black and white flew away from him. He took a step into the multicolored cloud they left behind, surveying whatever fresh hellscape Sophie’s magic inflicted on them next.
Younger Drew huddled between hanging coats in the dim light of a closet with slats in the door. He held thick rope, tying a noose with shaking hands. No one wanted him. No one cared. No one would miss him.
Kay punched through the scene, throwing more glass-like fragments into the air. “You need some therapy or something,” he told Drew.
“Shut up.” Drew sat, riveted by the horror show. Scenes of all the worst parts of his life played in his mind’s eye, one after another, in no particular order. From only the first few moments before Kay smashed each one, he recognized all but the one that began with his aunt buying him an ice cream cone. He needed to know why he had a memory he didn’t recognize, which gave him something to fixate on besides the pain all these images inflicted.
“This is a strange way to unleash latent witch powers. I wonder if it’s about conquering your pain and fears, or some nonsense like that? I was expecting nothing more than pure agony while the power does something impolite to your aura. There’s no reason it needs to mess around with your head.”
Drew decided he didn’t want to know what “impolite” meant in this context. At least Kay’s commentary helped break the hypnotic hold his memories held over him. He turned away from the parade of pain and shame to focus on what he wanted. Stopping the Not-Claire required him gaining some kind of personal power. Without that, he had no hope. The world had no hope. Everything hinged on him surviving this demented process.
“Kay, smashing these things isn’t working. Maybe you need to do something else?”
“Like what?”
The shards of each memory spun in the air around them, whirling in a kind of orbit. Each had jagged edges and sharp points.
“I have an idea, but it’ll suck.”
Kay punched a foster father in the gut, destroying another memory. “A bad idea is better than no idea.”
“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. Having no clue is much better than doing something dumb.” Drew huffed. “Look, you said something about pure agony. Why do you think this should involve physical pain?”
“Because what we’re trying to do is kind of like adding an extra arm by stabbing yourself with a prosthetic. Maybe more apt is drilling holes into your flesh with power tools to add decorations. Not like piercings. Like a drill as wide as your finger and a decoration made of knives you’re hoping the flesh will grow around.”
For a few moments, Drew stared at the wall inside his head. “Why did I agree to this again? There must be better ways to accomplish this goal than to half-kill myself.”
“Not really.”
Drew rubbed his eyes. “Great. Just great. I think we need to attract the shards and make them stab us. That’s my idea.”
Kay whistled. “Damn.” He stopped and examined a wobbling shard. “I think you’re right. Slice and dice the aura. I… am not looking forward to this.” He grinned. “On the bright side, we only ever have to do it once. And survive. That’ll be the trick. I think you need to be in control so I can keep us healed while you suffer.”
“That’s a thin excuse.” Drew shook out his hands. “Fine, let’s get this over with. You’ll have to make it happen. Do it fast, before I have a chance to notice the latest memory.”
Kay counted down from five. They swapped positions. Drew saw the worst foster home he’d ever been in, complete with the creepy teddy bear. Thousands of shards flew at him. They slammed into his body in every direction.
Drew screamed. He groped for something to hold onto. The pain drilled into his flesh, his muscles, his bones, his soul. Every shred of him cried out. Silver blood flooded from a thousand cuts. His left hand touched something, and he curled his fingers around it. Another scream joined his, higher-pitched and holding more shock than pain.
Blue tendrils slithered up his left arm, filling the holes as it wrapped around him. At his neck, it split into three pieces, one crawling over his head, one diving across his shoulder to his right arm, and the third winding down his torso. In its wake, it left unknown blue goo seeping into the raw wounds and plugging them.
When it reached his toes, Drew opened his eyes to find Sophie collapsed beside him on the damp leaves, her hand clutched in his. Her chest rose and fell with breathing, but she lay otherwise motionless.
“We didn’t die,” Kay said.
“You sound surprised.” Drew ached everywhere and nowhere. The pain had nothing to do with his physical body. Except his throat, which felt raw.
“Ripping apart your own aura on purpose is pretty dumb. But it worked. I think we took some of the girl’s juice to patch the holes. That’d be the blue stuff you saw. She might be out for a while. Maybe we should take her someplace safe.”
“Since when do you have a conscience?” Drew sat up and wondered how loud he’d screamed.
“It’s probably your fault. Let’s take her home and put her in your bed. When she wakes up, we can take her wherever she wants to go.”
No one would notice so long as they made no noise. The adults only came into his room if he didn’t answer the door, and the girls knew better. Drew took his time getting to his feet, wishing the ache in his aura would hurry up and clear away. He spun fog out and moved them both to his bedroom, where he used more fog to pick Sophie up and deposit her onto his bed.
He covered her with a blanket and sat on the edge to wait for her to wake. She’d sacrificed some part of herself to save him. Had she been willing, or had he forced her by accident? Either way, she deserved some kind of repayment. Or at least an apology.
Sitting on his bed made him notice the heavy load of weariness draped over his shoulders. Today had, so far, been busy. Another trip to a ley line might help, or it might get him tangled in something else. He could try a different one. And probably find a different ghost, or something worse. Sleep and food would take care of him fine, it just took longer.
When he stood, the ache in his aura made him groan. He sat down again and tried to feel if anything had changed. Kay already augmented his senses, so he had no idea. But more importantly, one thing about that whole ordeal bothered him.
“I wish I could remember what happened with that ice cream cone.”
“Given the content of the rest of those memories, I can’t imagine why.”
Drew rubbed the back of his neck and groped for how to explain. He had an itch he couldn’t scratch, or a missing extra finger, or something of the sort. “Because I can’t remember it.”
“You’re weird.”
“I just don’t like having a hole there. I’d understand if it was from so long ago the memory has faded, but I think that happened after I went into foster care. My aunt said she couldn’t take care of me, that’s why I went into the system in the first place. Then this ice c
ream thing was later. I might’ve been twelve.”
“If you know who she is, maybe you should go visit her.”
“Aunt Stace. My mom’s sister. No idea what her last name is.”
“Good luck with that, then.”
Drew sighed. He’d have to delve into his family to find her. So far, he’d been content to know his parents’ names and where he once lived. Going through the papers and boxes his social worker kept meant dealing with that car crash memory a lot more than he wanted to.
“Did all that crap at least work?”
“Not sure,” Kay said, giving the impression of a shrug. “We’ll have to wait until that ache goes away. That’s your aura healing, so leave it alone until it’s done. Then try flexing your muscles.”
“Good thing we’re sure that wasn’t all a waste of time.” Drew brushed a stray lock of hair off Sophie’s face. She’d done something nice for him. For no reason other than shared annoyance at Anne. Real people didn’t do that. Maybe he could have some kind of chance with her, the chance he’d never have with Claire.
Except for the part where everyone he cared about died. He couldn’t be responsible for Sophie’s death. She deserved to live. Her aura marked her as too minor a power to handle the things he wound up tangled in. She couldn’t be his equal, not like Claire. Before Kay, they might’ve been a decent fit. Now, she’d only need protection.
As soon as she woke, he’d thank her and get her out of his life as soon as possible. Then he’d test himself and go face that ghost in the woods. To save the world. Claire would’ve wanted him to do this.
Chapter 14
Claire
Unseen force pushed Claire against the wall, keeping her in contact with the wards. The magical current jolted her mist apart and kept it from gathering. Prolonged exposure sent tiny threads of fire wriggling through her, filling the empty spaces. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t break free. She couldn’t do anything.