I hadn’t missed his passing mention of it. Several theories passed through my mind, but I wanted to find out what I could from him before I drew conclusions.
“We had the airship headed on the path. We had the spell in progress. The river was ahead.”
Suddenly, Joseph wasn’t rhyming anymore. He was reliving the Wingfoot crash.
“Don’t do this, Master Nicholas!” his father pleaded.
“Quiet,” I warned Barnaby. I knew that the crash still affected him. He blamed himself for Joseph’s actions, even though Joseph’d been of clear mind when he and his cohorts had hatched their plan to sacrifice scores of others in order to gain power. “Go on, Joseph.”
“We had the matrix measured out. We had it measured out. He’d given us all we needed. There was no room for mistakes, but no mistakes to make. There was—”
I cut him off. “Who gave what to you? You’ve not mentioned anyone else before. Who’re you talking about?”
“The dragon marches, the dragon flies, but when the beast walks, anyone dies.”
Silence this fool! demanded the voice in my head. We listen to babbling! Silence him!
I wasn’t sure which intrigued me more, Joseph’s slip back into the rhyming or the dragon’s abrupt insistence that I eliminate Barnaby’s son for speaking. I could deal with the dragon at any time, so I finally concentrated on Joseph. “You were talking about the Wingfoot. Do you remember? He gave you what you needed. Who?”
“Is this important, Nick?” Claryce asked.
“We thought everyone was accounted for. We thought that all his remaining friends were aboard. We never knew that he had some other link with someone beyond the group.” Without taking my gaze off Joseph, I asked, “Barnaby? Did you forget to mention any of his associates? Or maybe one of yours?”
“Master Nicholas, I never trafficked with the likes of Joseph’s companions, and none I knew would’ve ever given him advice on such evil as . . . as . . .”
He trailed off, his guilt over what his son had sought to do still fresh after six years.
Joseph remained silent while we spoke, eyes still on my shadow. I decided to try something. I raised a hand and waved slightly. I knew my shadow would do the same.
A childlike smile spreading over his face, Joseph waved back at where my shadow was.
“Comes the shadow, goes the shadow,” he murmured. “Comes the man, goes the man. So busy I am.”
It took me a moment to understand to what he might be referring. “Yes, Joseph. You’ve had a lot of visitors. Your father. Me.” I chose not to bring Claryce to his attention any more than I could. “And Dr. Mudgett? Or maybe Dr. Bond was his name?”
Joseph just stared.
I moved the hand back and forth. He perked up.
Continuing to move the hand, I asked, “Does Dr. Mudgett have a mustache?”
Joseph nodded.
I wished I’d had an image of Bond. I did my best to describe him. Not at all to my surprise, Drs. Bond and Mudgett appeared to be a lot alike.
“Who is this man, Master Nicholas?”
I didn’t answer. I had my ideas, but I didn’t want to voice them yet. Still moving the hand, I asked, “What did the doctor want from you, Joseph? Was he the one who gave you what you needed for the matrix?”
“The shadow comes, the shadow goes. With each night, the shadow grows.”
I frowned. We were back to the rhyming. I thought a moment. “This shadow—”
“One shadow grows, one ebbs and flows.” Joseph leaned to the side and waved at the original shadows.
That struck me. “Does one of these shadows come and visit you? Does it?”
I was rewarded with a simple nod.
“Barnaby? You know anything about this?”
“Not at all! Is it just his imagination, perhaps?”
I’d like to have thought that, but this was Joseph. It would be just like him to have sinister shadows come visiting him in Dunning. “Doubtful. Maybe something to do with the doctor.”
“The moon goes, but the shadow grows . . .” Joseph pointed to his left.
I tried to think what lay in the direction beyond Dunning. The only thing I could say for certain without a map was Lake Michigan.
Joseph lowered his hand. His expression grew indifferent, and his eyes shifted to the shadows he’d been watching when we’d entered. I knew what that meant. Whatever moment of clarity—although clarity wasn’t exactly the right word with Joseph—had passed. Joseph was once again Joseph as he’d been since the Wingfoot crash.
Barnaby sighed. He joined me in front of his son. As I backed up, Barnaby touched Joseph on the cheek.
Joseph’s father might as well not have existed for the nonresponse the son seemed to give the touch.
“As unsettling as this was, it was still a pleasure to hear him after all this time.”
Claryce put an arm on Barnaby’s shoulder. “You poor man.”
I said nothing. I kept thinking of the lives lost and those that would’ve been lost because of Joseph.
Turning from his son, Barnaby asked, “Did you learn enough, Master Nicholas?”
“I learned something, but what exactly it was, I’m not certain.”
“But this Dr. Mudgett and your Dr. Bond are the same?”
“They sound very similar to me,” Claryce responded. “Don’t you think, Nick?”
“Enough for me. Just wish I knew what the doctor had in mind. First his interest in Oberon’s property across from the Murder Castle—”
“I beg your pardon?” Barnaby looked from Claryce to me. “The Murder Castle? Does this have something to do with that awful place? I remember that time . . . how curious.”
I took a moment to glance at Joseph. He’d made no reaction at the mention of the place. “Why curious? Did you or Joseph have any ties to it, Barnaby? Is this something you didn’t bother to get around to telling me?”
“No . . . no. It’s just the timing. That you should mention it now.” Barnaby’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear! Joseph did mention the moon. He must’ve meant that!”
“The moon is past, but its shadow will last . . .” Joseph whispered to the wall yet again.
I waited, but he lapsed into silence. My mind raced. The moon. A particular moon. “Barnaby, was there a Frost Moon when all this took place?”
“Yes . . . yes, there was.”
I thought of all the problems the last one had just caused. It’d not only helped Oberon with his spellwork, but it’d enabled Her Lady to get a greater foothold. “How long did that one last?”
“The moon? It was there itself like any full moon—”
I exhaled. At least that was one problem we didn’t have to deal with.
“—but ‘Moon’s wake,’ as they call it, can last anywhere from a few days to several weeks, depending on circumstances.”
“Moon’s wake?” There went my brief comfort. “What happens during Moon’s wake?”
Barnaby looked guilty even though he had no reason to do so. “Where magic’s concerned? Just about anything, Master Nicholas. That’s why most cautious casters make use of the tremendous power of the moon itself. The wake offers incredible opportunity, but also incredible danger.”
Joseph chuckled, catching our attention again. He smiled wider at the shadows before him.
“Castles in the air, once gone, now again there . . .”
And with that, Barnaby’s son abruptly turned on his side, slid onto the bed, and went to sleep as if without a care in the world.
CHAPTER 11
Barnaby chose to stay with his son for a little while longer. I didn’t see the point of that, but didn’t say anything.
To my surprise, Fetch had remained in the Wills as promised. He rose on the backseat and wagged his tail as we climbed in.
“All jake, Master Nicholas?”
“Not really.” As Claryce started the car, I leaned back. “Tell me about the Moon’s wake, Fetch. Tell me the truth.”
He whi
ned, then remarked, “So ye saw me.”
I’d had a suspicion after what Barnaby’d said. The only time other than on the shore of Lake Michigan during the night of Frost Moon I’d ever seen Fetch able to even partially transform was when he’d initially tried to kill me.
“Against the Wyld in the empty store and when you were trying to mop up my kitchen.”
“What did he do?” Claryce asked as she drove toward the entrance.
“Remember him by the lake? Something like that.”
She said nothing, but her hands tightened on the wheel.
“I swear I’ve never done wrong with it!” Fetch insisted as the Wills drove through the gateway. “I swear!”
I wondered how many Frost Moons there’d been since the Gate’d become fixed in Chicago. Still, even a couple of times over the past thirty years was too much.
Fetch’s ears suddenly straightened. He growled at something to the right, then let his gaze go to behind the Wills.
I instinctively reached toward Her Lady’s gift. “What is it?”
It was Claryce who answered. “I think we’re being followed.”
The news wasn’t exactly surprising. Not wanting to give away the fact that we were aware of them by me actually looking behind us, I instead asked, “What do you see, Fetch?”
“Dark blue auto. Four inside.”
Unlike dogs, Fetch had extremely good color vision. He’d verified with that observation that we were being followed by the Chrysler Phaeton.
“There a pasty-looking fellow among them?”
“There’s two. Definitely not lookers.”
“Two?” I hadn’t counted on Schreck maybe having a brother.
Claryce gestured at her purse. “I’ve got a small mirror in there. You might be able to hold it just low enough.”
I carefully pushed past the Smith & Wesson and found the mirror. Small as it was, it would definitely serve. I held it up near my shoulder.
I could see the Phaeton and the passengers, but only that the two in front were as pale as I’d thought they’d be. I couldn’t make out anything else though.
Eye will help you see, the dragon offered eagerly.
The world not only shifted to emerald, but sharpened tremendously. I focused on the two hoods in the front seat, then concentrated.
The view magnified. It was almost as if the Chrysler hung on our bumper.
Schreck not only had a brother . . . he had a twin.
They still didn’t look like anything I’d experienced with Feirie, but they also didn’t look exactly like your normal hoods. I couldn’t see the Peacemaker, but assumed Schreck One had it ready.
That brought another concern to mind. To Claryce, I muttered, “Don’t let them get any nearer.”
“Gun?”
“Unexpected passenger in our lap.” I wasn’t sure how close they had to be to suddenly cast themselves to our auto, but didn’t want to take the risk.
Claryce accelerated. I got concerned about her speed, but she handled the Wills skillfully. Schreck Two followed suit, but then the Chrysler slid to the side as if it’d caught some slick piece of ice. The result left us far ahead.
“I saw the ice and skirted close to it,” Claryce commented. “Looks like it worked. Do you want me to lose them completely?”
I had a suspicion that they knew where we could be found, anyway, but decided now was not the time to try to confront them. I’d do that when Claryce was somewhere else. “Go ahead.”
With a grin, she sped up. Fetch let out a woof and stuck his head out the window so that he could catch scents in the wind. I looked in the mirror and saw the Phaeton dwindle until it disappeared from view.
We kept an eye out for our pursuers for some time, but it never reappeared. As we neared her apartment, Claryce finally slowed. “Good thing we didn’t pass a police car.” She cleared her throat. “That reminds me. Cortez called the other day.”
“Cortez? You’re just telling me this now?” I suddenly found I didn’t like the way the detective kept intruding on matters, especially where she was involved. It took all my effort to keep from letting my anger show.
Unaware of my struggle, Claryce went on. “It wasn’t anything important. More follow-up questions about Oberon as William. I told him what I could, and he asked how I was.” She frowned. “Now that I recall, he even said his wife wanted to say a prayer for you for all your troubles.”
My fury subsided. I couldn’t help thinking that Maria was doing a lot of praying lately. Was Cortez talking up a storm about us, or was there something else going on?
Fetch took a big sniff of the air. His voice grew tense. “Master Nicholas . . . Wyld.”
He had my attention immediately. I concentrated. There was a hint, but for some reason I couldn’t exactly locate the source. It was near, yet it wasn’t near.
The hoods in the car had never been too concerned about losing us. They’d known there was another pursuer that simply racing off wouldn’t shake.
I’d rarely come across any Wyld who willingly came out in the daytime, but the overcast weather gave it fairly good coverage today. Still, either Fetch or I should’ve been able to get a fix on it by this time—
Suddenly, another presence made itself felt. The hint of Wyld faded, replaced by a stronger sense of Feirie, of Her Lady.
I looked around. “Turn into that alley.”
Claryce did so without questioning. That worried me a bit. I didn’t want her so used to the darkness of Feirie that she trusted me to know the right thing to do against it.
We went a few feet into the alley. Claryce stopped the Wills. I immediately jumped out.
“Stay with her, Fetch.”
“Now just a minute—” she began, only to stop as a shadowed form began to coalesce a short distance ahead.
I didn’t have to ask who it was. There was only one reason—other than from me—that a Wyld about to attack would flee so suddenly.
“Lose your prey again, Lon?” I asked.
Her Lady’s enforcer shimmered slightly, briefly radiating that same odd uncertainty I’d noticed from him the last time I’d called him by the nickname. I still didn’t understand why it put him off, but I was willing to use any tool I had to keep the advantage.
The outline of the face formed. Lon did not have a happy expression. She still waits.
“For me?” I hadn’t obeyed the last summons. I certainly wasn’t going to obey this one without a good reason. “What does she know about slaughtered Wyld? I don’t like her sending a rush of fleeing shadow folk through the Gate! That goes against the pact!”
The enforcer’s face faded away again. She waits. You are summoned. One hand emerged from the cloak, a long, sinewy finger pointing past me. The female, also. . . .
Her Lady might be the most powerful force in all Feirie, but she’d crossed yet another line with me. I reached toward the inside of my overcoat. Lon would know what that meant.
“If either you or any of her other lapdogs so much as get this close to her from now on, losing your head’ll be the least of your concerns.”
For good measure, I summoned the dragon’s eyes. Chortling, he quickly acquiesced.
A low hiss escaped the cloaked creature, but to Lon’s credit, he didn’t back away in the face of two overwhelming threats. Even if he had some sort of protection against the sword, he certainly had none against the dragon.
Beware the Moon’s wake. . . .
“Yeah, you can thank Her Lady for not getting around to telling me about it until now. You can also tell her that I’ll take any intrusion on this side other than to remove the problem as a threat I’ll deal with. That includes you, too, Lon.”
He shimmered. The Gate has two sides . . . two dangers. . . .
Right now, I was tired of Feirie’s cryptic ways. “You’ve got something to tell me outright, you tell me—”
Beware! the dragon silently roared. He is casting a subtle spell!
I reacted immediately. Out came Her L
ady’s gift in one sweep. I heard a clicking sound behind me, but didn’t register it as a threat. All that mattered was Lon.
But instead of following through with whatever attack he’d planned, Lon fled into the farther shadows. Even to the dragon’s gaze, he literally scattered to pieces and vanished.
I didn’t know what made me more furious, that Her Lady’s servant had been trying to launch a sneak attack on me or that I’d not been able to hand him his head. My heart pounding and my breathing rapid, I turned back to Claryce and Fetch.
Her expression was enough to shake me out of my black mood. I realized I’d begun to fall into another fit of rage. I wanted to squeeze whatever passed for Lon’s neck and—
—and, yet again, forced down the fury.
By that time, Claryce’d climbed out of the Wills. I saw that the click had come from the revolver, which she’d pulled out at some point. She kept the Smith & Wesson ready as she made her way toward me.
“Are you all right, Nick? What happened? What was that thing?”
“That was one of Her Lady’s foot soldiers. They’re not as tough as they think they are, though. Oberon dispatched the last one rather messily.”
“They are very strong, very dangerous, Mistress Claryce. No simple goons. Real torpedoes.”
Claryce stared at the spot where Lon’d floated. “Why did you attack him? I didn’t see him do anything.”
Her questioned annoyed me more than it should’ve. Biting back a retort, I simply answered, “He was starting a spell.”
Fetch, who’d been sniffing the air, paused. “There was no spellcasting, Master Nicholas. I would’ve sensed that.”
“Don’t argue with me!”
Fetch whined. Claryce looked at me reprovingly. “Nick! Get ahold of yourself! What’s happening to you?”
“Nothing. Sorry. She had the audacity to not only demand I come before her, but to bring you with me! I think maybe that’s what stirred me up the most.”
“Ye looked like Ed Healey about to take down a poor fool, Master Nicholas! That ye did!”
The offhand comment made me stare at him. “What? Now you’re a football fan, too? You been sneaking over to Wrigley to watch the Bears?”
He looked all innocent, but I was certain he’d done just that. It was one thing to skulk around the alleys of Chicago, but I’d made him promise long ago to not go where so many people gathered. He would be seen if he kept growing careless like that. Someone would either take him for a loose dog or some wild animal like an oversized coyote from the west suburbs. Whichever the case, I didn’t need stories of him popping up in the Trib and other papers.
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