Die on Your Feet

by S. G. Wong

  Mayor continued speaking as he got up and returned to his desk. “That was all a long time ago. A lifetime ago. Butch never seemed bitter about it.” He sat, shifted his eyes briefly. “Not when I knew him...” His voice trailed away. He assessed Lola in silence. She would almost swear she could see the gears grinding within his head.

  “Ignore him, Lola.” Aubrey’s voice was close at her ear. “He doesn’t understand the first thing about your father.”

  “He was a forgiving man,” Lola said to Mayor. “I’m not like him.”

  Mayor said, “So you’ve said. Well then, as I was saying. Trust is a key element of our relationship, Lola. I’m about to tell you something that no other living person has ever heard.” He aimed a smile at Aubrey.

  “Stop,” growled Aubrey. “This is not her business.”

  Mayor shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. Again. She has nothing to fear from them. I can protect her easily.”

  Lola strode back across the room. She stopped directly in front of the beautiful black desk and the smiling Ghost behind it. “Tell me.”

  “No, Lola. They’ll kill you. It’s a death sentence—”

  Lola sliced the air behind her with a hand. She kept her gaze on Mayor. “Tell me.”

  “She’s a grown woman,” said Mayor then returned his attention to Lola. “I suspect you’re nothing like your cautious father, after all.” Lola squelched the unease that sprang up at his cruel smile. She forced herself to listen carefully.

  “There is a group of Ghosts who call themselves The Council. They fancy themselves a governing body for all Ghosts, everywhere. I won’t go into the logistics nor even the most superficial description of their powers. Suffice to say that they rule through fear and intimidation. They collect tithe from Ghosts, in the form of energy. Your energy, in fact.” Mayor smiled grimly. “In effect, Aubrey over there is a parasite. He survives only because he feeds from your life force. That feeding binds him to the Ether and to the Council. All the elaborate Spells of the Crossing Ceremony ensure that this binding lasts until the end of your life. When your life ends, poof—your Ghost is gone.”

  Lola pushed words past a rigid jaw. “But that doesn’t apply to you.”

  Mayor nodded slightly. “Exactly. The Council and I disagree, you see. I made myself without being tied to a single Host. I will survive as long as I so choose. And I do this all without giving that pack of hyenas an iota of stolen energy.” He smiled.

  Lola was silent a moment, her eyes on the shadowy skyline behind Mayor’s chair, as she thought, hard. Then: “So Copenhagen might play assassin for this Council?”

  Mayor nodded. “If she is truly as much a natural talent as you say, she would be the perfect choice for their dirty work. It would have taken someone with prodigious skills to penetrate my mansion Wards and murder a man without any one of us knowing.”

  “Stop talking,” shouted Aubrey, “Lola, please. Stop listening to him. It’s time to leave. Now. It’s not safe for you here.”

  “On the contrary,” said Mayor. “The best place for your precious girl is under my protection. Don’t allow your petty jealousy to blind you to the obvious.”

  “I’m hardly going to entrust her survival to your arrogance,” Aubrey spit back.

  Lola ground her teeth for a few moments. “This doesn’t change my demands. You’ll have plenty of time to grill her after you catch her. I don’t give a good goddamn about this Council you’re so afraid of. I just want my twenty minutes with her once you’re done.”

  Suddenly, the door to the outer office blew inward. It banged against the wall and swung back closed. Lola caught a glance of a booted foot, which quickly disappeared into the gloom of the empty space beyond. The woman Conjurer threw herself at the doorway, hands raised. She was stopped in mid-air by a single gunshot. Then a shape flew through the doorway, knocking the door open again, and more gunshots reverberated in the room. Turning away, Lola saw Mayor vanish. In her peripheral vision, she saw the remaining Conjurers crumple, dark stains spreading across their yellow robes. Lola dove over the heavy black desk and mashed herself against the drawers. Crouching, she reached down to her ankle. She pulled out a snub-nosed revolver from the ankle holster and held it close, waiting.

  There was only silence, ringing with the echo of violence.

  Then, there was a voice.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Show yourself, traitor,” shouted AJ Copenhagen.

  Lola held her breath.

  Copenhagen said, “Come test me, Haunt.”

  Lola slowly crept forward, awkwardly duck-walking. She manoeuvered until she could see past the desk leg. Copenhagen stood against a wall, her eyes narrowed and watchful. A small smile played on her lips. Next to her, the door was pushed shut once more. Between Copenhagen and Lola’s vantage point was the larger of the two sofas. Lola set herself more firmly, pulling her gun forward. Before she could squeeze off a shot, Copenhagen caught sight of her. She swung her own gun up and fired. Lola fell back, but momentum carried her leg forward past the cover of the desk. The other woman found her mark. Lola cried out as the bullet passed through her fleshy calf, leaving a gush of blood behind. She scurried backward. Tearing at her neck, she messily pulled away her neck scarf and tied it tightly around her injured leg.

  Copenhagen laughed. “Lola, predictable as ever. Well, thank you for being punctual.”

  “Pleasure’s all yours,” replied Lola, gritting her teeth.

  Aubrey was suddenly at her ear, whispering: “I can feel it again, the disturbance, stronger than before. She’s Warded the room. No one gets in or out. You have to stop her, Lola. If she catches either of us, she’ll use the Dispersal spell and we’ll both be dead.”

  “Mayor?” whispered Lola.

  “He’s trapped too. And there’s no telling if he’d help us anyway.”

  “Be easier for him to kill you first,” muttered Lola in agreement. She thought for a moment, listening hard with one ear for movement from Copenhagen’s side of the office. Finally, she squared her shoulders. “I have a proposal,” Lola shouted.

  “Next time, I aim for your head,” replied Copenhagen. “Enough of this, Haunt,” she suddenly shouted. “Show yourself and you won’t have to watch your lover’s only child die.”

  “Aubrey can see him,” countered Lola.

  “Of course,” Copenhagen laughed. Lola felt her skin crawl at the delight in the woman’s voice. “You don’t owe him anything, do you?”

  “But first, a trade of information,” said Lola. Carefully, she eased up onto her haunches. Her calf collapsed under the strain and she fell down, cursing under her breath.

  “Time’s a-wasting, Lola,” Copenhagen said. Another shot rang out and chips of lacquered wood flew from the desktop. “Tell me where Mayor is, Aubrey, and I won’t kill you both.”

  “Actually,” called out Aubrey, “I’m curious why you can’t locate him yourself. Is he better at this than you, after all?”

  “I can always find you, Aubrey. I can see you. Don’t forget that.”

  “That’s not much of an answer,” he replied.

  “That’s because it’s a threat,” said Copenhagen. “You can’t hope to match Spells with me, Aubrey. You’re a zero in this equation.”

  Lola interjected, “But you need him for your Dispersal. You need me alive for that, at least. So why don’t you put up the gun for now?” Lola slipped her revolver into the back waistband of her slacks. “We can talk like civilized adults.”

  “How’s the leg?” countered Copenhagen.

  Lola looked down at the widening patch of blood on her clumsy tourniquet.

  “No go,” said Copenhagen with finality. “I’m not here for you, Lola. I want the traitor. Help me and you won’t suffer.”

  “Why does the Council want
him dead?” asked Lola.

  Copenhagen laughed harshly. “Brava, Lola. You might have made an investigator after all.”

  “You cornered Arbogast. You killed him and Josephson. You—”

  “Yes, yes, and I had their cozy little home tossed to the hells and back. What of it?”

  “Tell me why, tell me all of it, and I’ll give you your Haunt.”

  “She’s lying,” came another voice. Lola swiveled to get her bearings, but it seemed to emanate from everywhere around her.

  “Parlour tricks won’t save you now,” spat Copenhagen.

  “She’s lying,” repeated Mayor. “Aubrey is even less of a Spell Caster than you. He cannot see me.”

  “Show yourself and we’ll put your claim to the test,” challenged Copenhagen.

  Aubrey was once again at Lola’s ear: “I can get you a clear shot. Be ready.”

  “Wait,” Lola whispered fiercely. “She’ll see you.”

  “I think she won’t use me until she can pinpoint him first. Be ready.”

  A laugh broke out from across the room. “Testing my Wards, Haunt?” asked Copenhagen. “Do I get full marks?”

  “Your masters are thorough, if nothing else,” said Mayor.

  “You’ll discover that firsthand soon enough,” promised Copenhagen.

  “You can’t hope to Detect me, killer. Subtlety is not your strong suit.”

  Lola grunted, pulling herself onto her haunches once more. She bit her lip, drawing blood, as the wound in her leg pulsed painfully. She crouched awkwardly, waiting for Aubrey’s signal. He said, “Shift over to the left end.” She obeyed, careful to keep her body out of Copenhagen’s line of sight. “She saw me. She’s moving toward the desk,” hissed Aubrey. “Coming at two o’clock. Be ready.”

  Lola gripped her revolver surely.

  “Don’t do anything foolish, Lola,” Copenhagen called out.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” shouted Lola as she sprang up and started firing. Something connected and Copenhagen fell over with a grunt, her upper body then hidden behind the smaller sofa. Lola ran around the desk and toward the fallen woman. Her leg buckled. She tumbled onto her right side, the gun beneath her. The landing jarred her shoulder and her trigger finger squeezed reflexively, sending a bullet through her own forearm. Lola’s head snapped back, her face pulled tight in pain. She tumbled onto her stomach.

  “Lola,” cried Aubrey.

  Suddenly, Copenhagen was up again, the wound high on her left shoulder. She hobbled over to Lola, raised her leg and stomped down on Lola’s back. Then she kicked her in the ribs and turned her over. Lola grunted heavily and tried to scramble away. The revolver was just out of reach. Copenhagen kicked it away. Lola looked up in time to see Copenhagen pointing her own gat at Lola’s head.

  “Offer’s off the table.” The killer grinned. “You will suffer.”

  Lola jabbed with her foot, kicking out Copenhagen’s leg just below the knee. Copenhagen fired as she collapsed. Lola heard the whistle of the bullet as it passed her left ear. She jumped up, unevenly, and lunged for the other woman’s pistol. Copenhagen swung wildly with a fist and caught Lola on the neck. Lola coughed harshly, still reaching for the gun, but she miscalculated and fell short. Copenhagen reared up and punched down, landing a fist into the side of Lola’s head. Lola heard ringing and her vision filled with white spots. She grabbed blindly but her opponent brushed her hands aside and scrabbled away. A kick landed squarely in Lola’s solar plexus. She convulsed, gasping for air.

  “I’m happy to beat it out of you, Lola. Surely you know that by now.” Copenhagen was slightly out of breath but in far better shape. Lola looked up in time to see the gun in Copenhagen’s hand, swooping toward her head. It connected with a sickening crunch and Lola buckled. She toppled over in a limp curl.

  “I hope you’re watching, Haunt.” Lola’s eyes were clamped shut but the smile in Copenhagen’s taunt was clear.

  Lola heard the shuffle of feet and managed to pry her eyes open to slits. Copenhagen approached again. Lola felt a trickle of blood seep toward her eye. She blinked heavily and tried to get up. Copenhagen planted her leg and swung the other back for another kick. Lola held her breath and raised a hand out to deflect the blow as best she could.

  A mist abruptly coalesced in between the two women. Lola caught a brief glimpse of Mayor’s grim expression before he turned away to face his would-be assassin. The other woman was caught off guard, overbalanced, and fell back. Mayor grabbed Copenhagen by the shoulders and slammed her into the floor. She squeezed off a bullet, but it passed through Mayor and lodged into the ceiling. Lola heard a distinct cracking noise as she watched Mayor land a punch and break Copenhagen’s cheekbone. The assassin’s hands slackened and the pistol fell away. Mayor picked her up and held her off the floor. She hung motionless for a few seconds, then suddenly, she began thrashing.

  Aubrey cried: “Get up Lola! Get u—”

  Lola felt a blast of air pass on her left, where Aubrey had just been shouting. She staggered, feeling the pull of that invisible wind. Her skin was crawling with unseen insects, every hair on her body standing up on end.

  Mayor disappeared from view. His grip remained firm, though. Copenhagen was held up in midair, her face puffing up and darkening from the broken bones. Her eyes were glittering as she stared intently at the space in front of her. Her lips moved rapidly and she glared fiercely at her now-invisible opponent.

  The wind, grown twice as strong, buffeted Lola until she stumbled. Her hair, torn from its twist, flew madly around her face, obscuring her vision. She tried to move forward, her body leaning into the suddenly solid air, but she could make no progress. A scream pierced the thick atmosphere and Lola looked up. She scrabbled at the strands of hair covering her eyes.

  Copenhagen’s mouth was agape, eyes bulging. A second scream died as it barely began. The pain on her face came into sharp relief. The dark bruising of the broken cheekbone stood out starkly against the paleness of her skin. Her limbs and head were suddenly flung back, her body forming an unnatural curve. She thrashed wildly, her arms and legs carving terrible arcs in the air, pin-wheeling unnaturally in midair. Then she seemed to pull back into herself and the convex became a concave. A sharp, wet tearing sound filled the room.

  The wind died, Copenhagen fell.

  Lola’s weak leg gave way once again. She faltered and landed on her side. After a moment, she raised herself up on one arm. A sudden intense chill accompanied the silence. Lola was enveloped in a fine cloud. She coughed, trying to work some moisture into her dry mouth and throat. Her eyes watered, rejecting all of her efforts to blink away the tears. When she finally managed to wipe them away, she felt the cold lifting. The cloud was no longer around her. Instead it had formed above Copenhagen’s motionless body. Tentacles of icy grey fog crept along an invisible thread, down to the woman’s back. The mist seemed to pulse, once. Lola heard a soft sigh. She blinked again. The cloud was gone.

  Lola collapsed.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A delicate young woman sat next to the hospital bed, her dark hair pulled back into a loose bun at her nape. The harsh lights overhead did nothing to diminish her soft features. Lola looked at her with grit-filled eyes and a grim mouth.

  “Are we done here?” she asked, her voice ground down to a nub.

  The woman shook her head. Her expression remained bland. “Your Ghost must explain again why he aided in the Dispersal.”

  “I didn’t,” came Aubrey’s weary reply. “I was trying to get my Host to safety when I was pulled into the Spell. I had no choice. At the time, I didn’t know what was going on.”

  “And yet you still exist,” said a fourth voice, the smoothest in the room. Lola felt the hairs on her neck stand up. She rubbed at them, irritated at their slavish constancy even after all these hours. She really o
ught to be used to hearing the invisible Ghost by now. The disembodied voice continued. “You should not have survived the Spell.”

  “Something happened she didn’t expect,” said Aubrey. “I don’t think Copenhagen completed the Spell properly.”

  “Yet Mayor is now gone,” countered the voice reasonably.

  Lola jerked her arm involuntarily, setting the handcuff rattling against the metal rail of the bed. The young woman watched her with neutral eyes, then returned her gaze to Aubrey.

  “You obviously know more about that than I,” replied Aubrey. “As I’ve said, I’m no Conjurer’s Ghost nor am I a Spell Caster.”

  A long pause followed Aubrey’s angry assertion. Lola collapsed against the pillows behind her, wincing at the stab of pain in her side, the pounding of her headache. It was difficult to breathe through the tight wrappings around her middle. She reached for her cigarettes then remembered she had none. She kicked her leg in irritation, then sucked in a harsh gasp at the pain in her injured calf. Lola breathed shallowly for some long seconds. She refused to allow her physical infirmities to overcome her.

  The other woman sat as she had for the entirety of the interrogation, composed and still.

  The other Ghost’s velvety voice said, “Let’s hear it again, please, from the top.”

  “Let’s not,” Lola ground out. She rattled her handcuff again in agitation. “Telling it a tenth time won’t get you the answers you want to hear. You’ve heard the truth from us. Make up your own damned lies.”

  “Lola,” said Aubrey. He spoke precisely, coolly. “Lola, please, calm down. Ms. Heung and Mr. Liao are just doing their job. If they need to hear it again, I’ll tell it again.

  “Mayor’s warding ceremony was infiltrated by Copenhagen, when she murdered Arbogast. The particulars of that, I’ll leave to you lot, but my intuition says the poor man’s soul was the disruptive force in her Spell. She created a vulnerability in Mayor’s Warding by killing Arbogast and using his soul.” Aubrey explained the disturbance he’d felt, how that taint had led them to Arbogast’s body, and how it had also swirled around Mayor as well as Copenhagen. “We thought it certainly possible, given our investigation into Copenhagen’s Conjury background, but Mayor refused to consider it as a possibility. He was convinced he was invulnerable. We think Copenhagen used that against him. He let us in, far too close for safety, but he was so sure we were no threat. She knew Lola had an appointment so she knew when we would be in the same room with Mayor.