by Kaje Harper
“It was eating shades and creating ghosts,” Silas said gently. “If that happened to your wife, there’s nothing you can do except send the ghost on. I’m sorry. But we dealt with the ghoul, at least.”
Pasternak looked stricken. Darien couldn’t imagine what it would be like to find a ghost of someone you loved, terrified and nearly mindless. To hold some piece of your loved one in your hands and have to let it go. He murmured his own, “Sorry.”
Pasternak turned and focused on Darien for some reason. He came a few steps closer. “What did you do?”
“We haven’t seen your wife.” Darien spoke carefully, because Pasternak’s eyes were wild. “But we got rid of the ghoul, so hopefully your wife can rest in peace.”
“Got rid…”
“We managed to get it into the River. It went downstream.”
Silas added, “I think it was dissolving in the waters. It felt less substantial when it—when I saw it last.”
Silas’s eyes met his, and they shared the horror of that moment when the dark miasma sank Silas under the surface. Which meant Darien wasn’t watching when Pasternak’s whip lashed out and circled his neck.
“Get her back, now!” Pasternak yanked and Darien lurched to him. Before he could regain his balance, the sharp chill of a blade touched his throat. “Bring her back or I’ll kill him!”
Silas surged to his feet, hands spread out empty but a flicker of green outlining him. “Let him go. I can’t bring your wife back to life. You know that.”
“She’s not dead!” The tip of the blade sank in until Darien felt a flash of pain and a trickle that was probably blood. “I won’t let her die. I fixed it.”
“Pasternak.” Jasper’s voice was steady and cool. “What did you fix?”
“Her. The book told me how.”
Silas said, “Let Darien go. Then we can have a good talk and sort this all out.”
“No!” The knife didn’t move from Darien’s skin. Pasternak’s breath was hot on his ear. “You get her back here and then I’ll let him go.”
Darien thought about trying a skin spark, but even if he could dredge up the power, a jolt of Pasternak’s knife hand might open his vein. He stood still and tried to breathe slowly and gather the rags of his power.
“We don’t have her,” Jasper said, his tone rising.
At the same moment, Silas said, “Her? The ghoul?”
“She’s not a ghoul!” Pasternak panted and a shake of his hand flashed more pain through Darien’s neck.
He’s going to kill me by accident. Darien managed not to squeak as he said, “Tell us about her. What happened?”
“She was dying. The doctor said a few days, weeks at most. I was reading that Ancient Death Rites book and there it was. A way to keep a dying person from the River.”
“Shades belong in the River,” Silas said slowly. “It’s what we do.”
“She wasn’t dead.” Pasternak’s body vibrated against Darien. “I brought her with me, here, to the River and I showed her. She didn’t have to die. She could meet the ones who were already dead, and use their energy to keep going. They were dead. They didn’t need it. She had a far better use for it.”
“How did she get their energy?” Silas asked. “Was she a necromancer?”
“Is. Not was! She’s a wise woman, a woman of power. Not a necromancer, no, but I could lend her my spells, my energy, my touch. It worked well. She left ghosts behind, and I could replenish and she would live.”
Darien’s stomach rolled as he realized that creature, with a hundred gaping mouths, had been this man’s wife. “Did you ask her?” he demanded, before he could think better of it. “Did you let her choose whether to become that?”
“She didn’t want to die. And she hasn’t. The doctor said a week. Hah. What did he know? It’s been almost a year, and she’s still strong.”
Jasper said gently, “But does she wake, back there in the world? Does she even know who you are anymore? Does she know who she is?”
“I— she’s alive. She’s strong. I meet her here sometimes.”
“But does she know you?” Silas’s deep voice held more compassion than Darien could have managed. Silas doesn’t have a knife to his throat. A fast look from Silas’s frightened eyes to his reminded him that was unfair. He’d rather be in his position than Silas’s.
“You stopped harvesting the ghosts,” Silas went on. “Why was that?”
“She needed me there…” Pasternak’s words trailed off.
“I don’t think so.” Silas came a step closer. “I think you knew it was wrong. I think you wanted to stop feeding her.”
“I thought she might stop.” Pasternak’s grip around Darien’s chest slackened. “Maybe she had enough. We could find a balance. She wasn’t dying.”
“She was getting stronger, wasn’t she?” Silas took another step, within arm’s length.
Darien met his gaze. Pasternak’s arm trembled, loosened its hold. His breath came fast against Darien’s cheek.
Silas murmured, “One necromancer to another. Were you afraid of her?”
“She’s my wife. I’ve never feared her. I just want her back.”
At the last word, Darien saw the green haze light Silas’s gray eyes and threw himself to the side away from the knife, breaking the slack hold. The knife leaped away through the air as Pip barked, “Fetch!”
Silas lashed out. A handful of green tendrils wrapped Pasternak from neck to knees, clamping his arms to his sides.
Pasternak fell, struggling ineffectively, as Silas grabbed Darien’s wrist and pulled him in close, cupping his head. “Jesus. You.” Silas’s lips brushed Darien’s ear and a damp cheek smooshed against his temple.
Darien chuckled thickly and breathed in the smell of Silas’s skin. “You too. Damn it.”
A moment later Silas pushed him back to touch his neck. “Not too bad. The bleeding’s slowing. Thank all the gods.”
Jasper’s voice broke in on them. “Look there.”
They turned, with Silas’s long arm still snugging Darien in against him, and Pasternak tightly bound. A woman came toward them out of the mist, translucent and silent, a ghost so tattered and insubstantial it was hard to make out her features.
“Laura!” Pasternak struggled to sit up. “No! You can’t be here.”
The spirit looked as if she might pass them by without a word, but at the last moment she stopped and looked down at Pasternak. “It’s time. Past time.”
“I can feed you again. I didn’t mean to stop.”
“Shhh.” She reached down, the suggestion of a hand brushing his face. “I’m so tired. I never wanted this.”
He struggled with his bonds as if he wanted to grab her, but Silas’s power held his arms prisoner. Without another word the woman glided on, her form less and less visible as she approached the water.
Pasternak called, “Laura. I love you! Don’t go.”
Without hesitation or a backward glance, the shade stepped off the bank into the river. Three steps and the water was past her shoulders; one more, and she disappeared from view. The bright water rippled on, unbroken.
“No!” Pasternak screamed, then sobbed. “No, no, no, I did it all, gave everything. No.”
Silas said, “It’s over. If I let you go, will you stop fighting us?”
“It can’t be over.” Pasternak’s gaze was fixed on the spot where his wife disappeared.
“Listen,” Jasper said. “We all understand. You didn’t mean for that to happen. Just settle down and come back with us, and we’ll straighten it out.”
For a long minute they waited, while nothing disturbed the silence except Pasternak’s harsh, gasping breaths, and the subtle call of the River. Come on, Darien. You’ll feel so good. We’ll have so much fun.
Darien pushed in closer under Silas’s arm. Shut up, River. I plan to feel good and have fun without you.
Finally, Pasternak said, “All right. There’s nothing more I can do.”
Silas sighe
d. “I’m going to let you loose. Don’t do anything stupid, you hear me?”
“I hear you.” Pasternak’s voice was distant, like a man at the bottom of a well.
Slowly, Silas unwrapped and called back his threads of power. Darien felt Silas’s body shake as he reabsorbed the power. He was just dead, or close to it. He must be tapped out. Darien wrapped his arm around Silas in return. When we get home, I’m taking him to bed for a couple of days, and not just in a fun way.
Pasternak straightened, dusting himself off, tugging his suit straight. Darien saw that of all things, he was wearing fuzzy wool slippers. Pasternak worked one ankle, then the other. His head came up. Suddenly, he took off running toward the River.
“Don’t be an idiot!” Jasper yelled.
Silas flung a coil of green that fizzled and dropped short.
It was a matter of just a few strides, and Pasternak didn’t hesitate either. He dove from the bank in a long shallow arc, breaking the surface six feet out with hardly a splash. The last thing Darien saw was those silly slippers going under. He did not come back up.
“Hells.” Silas’s voice was thick. “Damnation!” He pulled Darien in close and buried his face in Darien’s hair. Darien held him, hugging hard as he could to keep all the bits of his man together and safe.
“Shh. It’s done,” he murmured, hardly knowing what he was saying. “Hush now. Let’s go home.”
From somewhere off to the left, Grim said dryly, “Yes, let’s. Before the River gets someone else. Silas owes me cream and bacon.”
Pip yipped agreement. “I like bacon.”
Silas snuffled against Darien’s temple, then straightened. “You’re right. Let’s go home.” He called a wavery light in his palm, and started up the beach away from the water. Darien went with him. Not that he had any choice, with how tightly Silas’s fingers gripped his own.
Chapter 9
Silas staggered as the shape of Jasper’s work room came into focus around him. At his side, Darien fell against him with a gritted, “Over. Jesus!” He grabbed Darien’s shoulders and managed to keep them both on their feet. The solid feel of Darien under his hands was reality and home and he pressed his forehead to Darien’s hair for an instant.
Jasper sat down hard on his tile floor. “Hell’s bells, that was something.”
Grim gave the seated sorcerer a solid head-butt. “You did well, for an unpartnered man. My thanks.”
“Yes. Truly. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Silas was still trying to put the past events together in his head, but of that much he was sure.
“There’s a paper in it.” Jasper raised his head, the light dawning in his eyes. “Maybe two. Or three. The ghoul, the dead lands, the bridge runes. I think I own a book…” He didn’t get up, but his gaze drifted to his shelves.
Darien asked, “Do you think Pasternak’s dead? Completely.”
“I believe so.” Silas made his voice gentle. “When the river takes you, you don’t come back. But it was his choice.”
“You came back.” Darien’s grip was close to breaking Silas’s fingers. “Were you dead? How—?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t remember anything from when that dead-meat ghoul settled over my head to when I was up on that beam, clinging for dear life. But I can’t have been dead. I’m no ghost.” He forced a laugh. “I’m pretty sure no ghost ever hurt in as many places as I do.”
Darien elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “Don’t joke. You went under. I couldn’t see you. Then the ghost of Edwina Barstow hauled you out on the other side.”
“Edwina?” He’d thought he somehow swam there. “You’re sure?”
Jasper said, “Positive. She dumped you on the sand and dove back into the River.”
Wow. He’d known that shades had far more agency than ghosts, but he hadn’t imagined they’d care what happened to another, once they felt the River’s pull. “That’s… unexpected.”
“And then you just lay there like a lump. On the shore where Grim said the land was death. And you didn’t move!” Darien’s voice cracked.
Silas hugged him, bent to brush Darien’s forehead with his lips and then suddenly remembered Jasper, watching them. He glanced at Jasper and saw watchfulness, but not disdain. Either he didn’t spot how we’ve touched each other or he doesn’t care. They couldn’t afford to assume it was the latter. He turned the hug more robust, thumping Darien’s shoulder in a manly way, and set him back at arm’s length.
“Luckily necromancers are more resistant to the influences behind the Veil.” Also more powerful there. His stomach rolled, remembering Pasternak’s whip around Darien, holding the living as a necromancer never could in the real world. Don’t think about it. “Now that bridge! That was a wonder.” He hadn’t paid much attention at the time, but thinking back, the idea of a runework that could span the River was staggering. “Jasper, I had no idea you could do that.”
“It wasn’t me. Or not just me.” Jasper jerked his chin at Darien. “I built it. Your man powered it.”
Silas let the implications of your man go unheeded. “Darien?” He did remember the golden glow, and the warm safety of its feel beneath him. “That was…” Crazy, to risk more of your life for me. Incredible work I could never have done. Awful, if it takes you from me faster. He tried to make out if Darien’s exhausted, pale face had more lines in it.
“Necessary, is what it was,” Darien said.
“He’s like a nuclear reactor,” Jasper added. “I’ve had to power my rune structures with life force, because I barely have a candle’s worth of power. But he ran that ridiculous structure off pure energy.”
“So he didn’t give up life—?” The relief made Silas’s knees shake.
“Not much. If any. What I wouldn’t give…” Jasper looked at Darien. “When we’ve recovered, I’d love to talk to you about some collaboration. I have a dozen ideas—”
“Later.” Silas managed not to growl the word. Much later. “Right now, we all need to recover.”
“Should we go to the Pasternaks’?” Darien asked. “Check on them?”
Silas couldn’t imagine getting behind the wheel of a car, and wouldn’t let Darien either, with his pale, drawn face and the blood crusting down the side of his neck. “Delegate. That’s what real leaders do. Jasper, you have a telephone?”
“Kitchen,” Jasper said. “As soon as the feeling comes back in my legs.”
Grim paced to the edge of the circle and tilted his head, looking at Silas. Silas slid back into his defending magic and took hold of the threads. “Do it.” A swipe of one furry paw brought the circle down with a chime and the usual backlash of power. He felt better for gaining even that little bit back.
Jasper rolled to his hands and knees and got up stiffly, moving as if he was the forty-five-year-old he looked. “Water. Food. Beds.”
“Sounds good.” Silas’s mouth felt like a desert and his body itched with sand. If he’d swallowed any of the River’s water it hadn’t quenched his thirst. I hope I didn’t. He wasn’t sure what that water would do inside a man. But they were back, everyone safe and sound, and he had to give credit where it was due. “Jasper? Thank you.” He touched his hand over his heart in respect, since he wasn’t sure Jasper would want the skin to skin of a handshake. “That was… extraordinary. You saved my life. I’m in your debt.”
Jasper waved one hand dismissively. “For that unique opportunity? I’d have saved a dozen necromancers.” He blinked and swayed on his feet. “That came out wrong. I mean, you’re welcome.”
“Nonetheless.” Silas hated feeling indebted, especially to the man whose spellcraft made Darien’s eyes bright. But if he’d died on that far shore, Darien would have been stranded by the River, trapped beyond the Veil without a way home. It wasn’t just his own life he owed Jasper. “If I can ever repay you, just ask.”
Jasper’s hollow cheeks creased in a grin. “I hear you have a very large library?”
“And you’re welcome in i
t.” Books he would happily give the man. “I hope you didn’t lose much life force either?”
Jasper’s reply was cut off by a huge yawn, and he just waved a hand. Silas fought against copying him, and lost. Darien made it three yawns.
Grim bumped Silas’s shin with his head, and Silas went to one knee, holding out a hand. “And you and Pip. Heroes, the pair of you.”
Pip’s tail wagged in a blur, but Grim took Silas’s hand in his mouth and pressed until the tips of his fangs pricked Silas’s skin. His unfathomable green eyes held something Silas couldn’t read.
“I’m sorry,” Silas murmured, though he didn’t know what he was apologizing for.
Grim let go and swiped a paw over his long whiskers. “Just don’t make me do that again.”
Silas knew he couldn’t promise, but when he reached out a finger, Grim let him rub one soft cheek, so hopefully he was forgiven. He swayed as he pushed to his feet.
Darien said, “If we can ask another favor, Jasper, do you by any chance have a spare bed? Because I’m not fit to drive, and Silas looks like a truck hit him.”
“I do. Sadly just one, and the couch is short.”
“We can share. Not a problem.” Darien’s answer came back quickly, and Silas winced, but Jasper shrugged.
“Well enough.” Jasper ran a hand over his head. “Food. Kitchen. This way. And you familiars will have to tell me what you need. I have cat food but I don’t suppose—”
“I’ll inspect the contents of your refrigerator,” Grim said. “I’m sure there’ll be something.”
Jasper went out, the familiars following at his heels. Darien seemed about to go too but Silas grabbed him and pulled him into the embrace he’d wanted from the start. As soon as Jasper’s steps receded, he tipped Darien’s chin up and took his mouth, needing that taste and heat and reassurance. Darien kissed him just as eagerly.
Silas could’ve sunk into the feel of Darien’s mouth on his and stayed there forever, but caution was still necessary. After way too short a time, he pushed back. “Come on. Like the man said, water, food, bed. Singular bed.”
“However will we cope?”