A Moonlit Task: An Urban Fantasy Mystery Novel (End Gate Series Book 1)

by Tom Hansen

  Nancy’s mind went to dark places, wondering what Anca was going to do to them. She looked back at the tiger and shivered.

  “No matter. I only need two bits of information from you. The first is how to get into your library. Seems you have it locked down pretty well in there. It’s so nulled that I can’t even tell if it exists, but he was able to notice it.” Anca waved her hand backward into the darkness toward the tiger.

  Nancy stared at the tiger’s eyes, unblinking in the darkness. How could a tiger notice a library that a grown woman wasn’t able to see, and what was this null business? It was the second time Anca had mentioned that word.

  Anca picked up the steaming cup and sipped at the beverage. She breathed in the steam for a moment, relishing the smell before putting down the cup.

  “It’s good that you’re awake. It will make it so much more enjoyable to torture the information out of you, but I will spare you the pain if you simply tell me where it is.”

  “Where what is?” Nancy tried to remember why she had let Anca into her home, but that seemed ages ago. What was she thinking?

  “The bukvar? Grimoire? I need the Book of Endless Shadow!” Anca screamed, slamming her hand down on the desk. Dark liquid sloshed out of the cup and spilled on the desk, soaking into some papers.

  Nancy remembered what Peter had said about the book in his letter. Maybe it was a book of spells that Anca was using to torture him. She glanced at the podium, noting the lack of a book there. That had to be what Anca was so desperate to find. How did Peter even know to take it? Sudden clarity about Peter and Anca solidified in her head. Anca seemed to have some kind of magical abilities and was using a book of spells that Peter had stolen from her. Anca was also in charge of the tiger.

  If Anca, like Ushatgeeta, was a witch, Linda probably was one as well.

  A dark pit of despair opened in her mind at realizing just how evil Anca was and hoping she hadn’t been unleashing her fury on the poor boy. Nancy thought it had just been emotional abuse, but knowing what she knew now about Anca, she dared not think about what horrible atrocities the kid had been put through.

  Anca looked down, her demeanor softening. “Oh, now look what you make me do. That does not bode well for you, now does it?”

  Anca twirled her fingers and the spilled coffee seemed to reverse. Like watching a videotape backwards, the dark liquid lifted out of the papers, flew into the air, and deposited itself back into the cup.

  Anca picked up the steaming cup again and sipped it. She put it down and grinned.

  Nancy looked dumbfounded. “What was that? How did you do that?”

  Anca’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Nancy. “You aren’t very bright, are you? Now how do you manage so many specialized enchantments at your home but not recognize a simple translocation spell?”

  Anca took a couple steps forward, squinting in an odd way, like she needed to focus on some feature on Nancy’s head, but not on top, behind perhaps?

  “Curious. You have the spark. You exude power, that is clear, but …” Her cold eyes went out of focus again, like she was trying to remember where she’d placed her keys.

  Anca put her thumb on Nancy’s forehead. Icy cold shot into Nancy like a spike. Every instinct told her to jerk back, but she was unable to move. Anca spread out her fingers over the top of her skull, reminiscent of Ushageeta doing the same, but this time it was painfully cold instead of overly warm.

  The cold shot down her spine, opposite to Ushageeta’s in that it had a thread of heat along with it, just barely taking the edge off the feeling. It wasn’t painful, but it was disconcerting, invasive, and far too personal. Every nerve in her body responded in justifiable retribution. Pins and needles danced across every inch of her skin.

  Suddenly, the sensation was gone. Anca pulled her hand back.

  “Latent, for sure, but I cannot explain why you have such powerful enchantments woven into you and your house. Who nulled your house?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anyone who can do … whatever it is that you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t? Well, we shall see about that. I suppose I should have just gone right to the pain; it always seems to loosen tongues.”

  Anca traced Nancy’s jawline with a long, icy fingernail, from one ear, across her chin, and back again, leaving cruel, angry lines across her skin. Anca’s eyes were intense, with little bolts of electricity sparking around her iris. Nancy’s jaw ebbed with energy on the places where Anca had traced.

  Anca reared her hand back and slapped Nancy.

  Far more severe than a simple slap, the pain seared through Nancy’s body, forcing her muscles to contract all at once. Her back arched; her bound wrists pulled at her shoulders. The pain of having her arms wrenched in their sockets, however, was nothing compared to the anguish pounding in her head.

  It was like someone had taken white-hot fireplace pokers and was slowly pushing them into her eye-sockets. A stream of jet-fueled fire seemed to envelope her.

  She would have screamed, but she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs burned. The pain intensified and her vision, already clouded by tears and sweat, began to go dark.

  The torture ended abruptly. Like a switch, one second it was there, the next it was gone.

  She tried to breathe in, but her lungs spasmed, not allowing any air to stay in them long enough to make it to her bloodstream. Panic set in as the room continued to get darker and darker.

  Nancy.

  That voice again. She managed to slow her breathing.

  Nancy.

  Another breath, this time a gulp. She gained a tiny bit of vision back as her head throbbed over and over to the blood pulsing through it. Each pump of her heart caused her brain to cry out in agony.

  Nancy.

  Something stood in her path, in her vision. Not something, someone, and … did they glow?

  Nancy. The familiar voice, the one that had been following her around, was back. Hold on a little longer, the pain will pass.

  She pulled in a little more oxygen, her lungs slowly releasing their stranglehold on her, slowing their spasms. Her head lolled and she couldn’t focus her vision on anything but the shimmering humanoid shape in front of her.

  Her lungs finally abating their cries for help; Nancy was able to pull in a nearly full breath. The air stung the insides of her oxygen-deprived lungs, burning them on the way down.

  “So what do you think about that, eh?” Anca walked in front of Nancy, or she thought she did. A blob went in front of her vision and blocked the light as it passed.

  Nancy couldn’t spare the breath to respond, but she did notice a brighter blue shape to the left, like a fuzzy cloud in the corner of her vision. The blob was starting to become sharper, as if someone was slowly turning the lens of a camera before her eyes.

  “Don’t worry, we’re just getting started, aren’t we? There is plenty where that came from. Now where is the grimoire?”

  Nancy opened her mouth, more because she could barely control her own facial muscles than anything, willing her vision to focus in on the blue cloud.

  Anca grabbed her head and yanked to the right. Nancy cried out in pain again. Her muscles were tight and sore, and the sudden forced movement hurt like hell. She felt something pop in her neck.

  Anca laughed as she took a step away, out of Nancy’s fuzzy vision.

  Nancy blinked a couple times, her eyesight clearing. Her eyes stung from the sweat that dripped off her forehead.

  The blue cloud floated a few feet in front of her.

  Anca walked in front of her, blocking the blue haze in the distance. Nancy managed to sit up a little straighter, and hold her head upright rather than cocked to the side.

  “So you ready to talk yet?”

  Nancy tried to speak, but her mouth hurt and her tongue seemed like it was too swollen to allow her to form proper sounds.

  “Well?” Anca threw her hand forward and something jolted Nancy. It wasn’t as pai
nful as last time, but it still hurt like the devil himself had rammed a sword through her leg.

  Nancy managed to cry out, her scream trembling in pitch and tone.

  Despite the pain, Nancy’s vision began to clear. She was finally able to make out the facial features of Anca.

  Anca was darker somehow. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what had changed; Nancy supposed it was her vision playing tricks on her.

  After what seemed minutes but was probably a few seconds, Anca finally released her hold on Nancy’s nerves.

  Nancy slumped forward, to the left this time, trying to ease the pain best she could. She huddled over, panting for a bit, trying to catch her breath.

  When she finally sat up and opened her eyes, she could see.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I’m so sorry, my dear; so very sorry you have to be put through this.

  The voice wasn’t Anca’s. It had a slight Asian accent, old and female. A memory tugged at Nancy’s mind. She realized that blue haze was in front of her again, only this time it had a much more defined shape, that of a woman. Short, and round with long braids down her chest.

  Nancy gasped in surprise, her mind reeling from the pain still and her shoulder still throbbing. She was hallucinating.

  This is what the end is like, isn’t it? I’m now going to see my life flash before my eyes. I’m going to relive all my painful memories as Anca slowly tortures my life into oblivion.

  Well, you don’t have to be so bleak. Dying isn’t all that bad, the voice said back to her.

  She focused again on the person-shaped blueness in front of her.

  Nancy blinked. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The pain had been so intense. She had to be dreaming. Was that really Linda sitting on one of the desks? It couldn’t be. She was so … incorporeal.

  Nancy opened her mouth to try to say something, but her body would not respond. What was wrong with her? Linda was dead, had been for nearly a week.

  No, she was hallucinating. It was the pain, mixed with the lack of sleep. Maybe this was what people talked about when they said your life flashed before your eyes when you died. She was starting to go back over her timeline, the things in her life she had accomplished, and relive them one by one.

  Nancy Moon was dying. She wouldn’t be on this earth anymore. She thought about the Faeries tending to her hurt ankle when she was a child. She wanted to linger on the memory, but the pain in her head snapped her back to reality.

  Linda smiled at Nancy, then turned her head to Anca, and frowned.

  Oh Anca, how much you have changed, Linda said, her voice distant and small, yet oddly clear in Nancy ears.

  Yup, I'm losing my mind.

  It really was Linda Hamada. Nancy finally recognized the face, despite it not being all cut up.

  “Wha?” Nancy managed to say out loud.

  The blue-haze Linda put her finger to her lips and pursed them. Shh, Anca can’t see me, best to keep it that way for now. I can hear your thoughts if you direct them at me though.

  Linda?

  Linda smiled. It was warm and inviting and so heartfelt that Nancy began to cry.

  “What is happening?” Nancy blurted out, tears pouring down her face. She had meant that as a thought, but it came out as a yell.

  At the noise, Anca and turned around from where she was at her desk, bent over, studying something.

  “So you can finally talk, can’t you? It’s about time.”

  Ignore her, Nancy, look around while you can. You are finally seeing things that you couldn’t see before. The pain, it intensifies your abilities. Fight or flight, only this time it’s bringing out your magic to help save your life.

  Nancy caught the hint of blue again to the right, and, with immense willpower, managed to get her head facing the right direction.

  She looked at Edna and the tiger, but she also saw two other ghostly blue forms, seemingly inside of Edna and the tiger.

  Edna’s spirit, for she had no other word that could describe what she was seeing, was short and round and essentially looked like a ghostly version of Edna.

  But the tiger was another matter. Nancy gasped. Instead of the tiger spirit she expected to see, there was a young Asian man.

  “Peter.”

  The words passed her lips so quietly that Anca couldn’t have possibly heard them, but the ghost of Linda, standing right next to Nancy now, hunched down and, looking in the same direction, nodded in agreement.

  Now you see. Now you see the answer you’ve been looking for.

  Nancy’s mind reeled. She opened her mouth to speak, but clamped it down again, not wanting to make noise. Anca had returned her attention to the book on her desk busy reading something with one finger and clutching a couple small pouches in her other hand.

  Are they … dead?

  No, but you’re seeing past the veil now. Your powers are coming into their own. Pain has that benefit. You are starting to see, dear one. See what you’ve been missing all your life.

  A quote from a movie popped into Nancy’s head.

  I see dead people?

  Linda chuckled at the quote. I suppose you do, dear, but it’s much more than that. You are finally seeing the nature of things. You see better than I ever did when I was alive. You are special; you are magical. You might have seer abilities.

  You mean I see this when I’m being tortured to death? Nancy’s strength was beginning to come back into her body, and apparently a snarky attitude came with it.

  I wouldn't put it that way, but I suppose it might have a little bit of truth to it. I’m sorry, dear, but just because I’m a witch, or was one when I was still alive, doesn’t mean that I know everything. Magic is complicated, and I was actually a very young witch in the grand scheme of things. Anca is far older and wiser than I, and even she wasn’t nearly as powerful as some others. Ghost Linda walked around Nancy to the other side of Anca and peered over Anca’s arm to see what she was reading.

  Nancy glanced over at Edna and the tiger now. She saw the glint of the tiger’s eyes peering back, unblinking at her. She shuddered then concentrated on the spirit of the man trapped inside the beast. He was asleep, his eyes darting back and forth erratically. His face had the look of someone in the throes of horror.

  Peter's nightmare.

  Unfortunately, yes. He started changing soon after he moved here. Probably the presence of magic from Anca and I. Of all the places for him to move, he had to move in next to two witches. Normally his kind has friends and family to help them through the transition, but he didn’t. Instead, he found Anca, and she had other interests in mind. She kept his condition hidden from me, so I didn’t notice until it was too late.

  Nancy tried to make sense of what Linda was saying. Transition? Changing? Is he a werewolf?

  Linda smiled. Very astute. A were-tiger, to be specific. They hail mostly from China and India, though where they originally came from is anyone’s best guess. I would assume that his family are most likely all were-tigers. The trait is usually hereditary, though not always, but it only shows up in Asian bloodlines.

  Nancy’s heart sank at that notion. She remembered the look on his face when he discussed his family. No wonder his father didn’t want him to leave.

  I have to help him. Nancy pulled against her restraints.

  No, you need to get out of here. You must understand. He’s under her spell. If you were more progressed with your magic, I might be able to help you, but I don’t even know where your affinities lie and what skills you are naturally drawn to. You have impressive latent power, that is for sure. It’s the reason I was able to call to you when I lay dying, why I thought you were a witch when I met you. I was partially correct, but I was misled by the power of your potential, and not by your skill. You have no chance against her. I have a plan to get you out of here, but you have to promise me you’ll take Edna and run.

  It took her a moment to process all the information.

  The pieces fit. Peter was the tiger. He was the o
ne that had killed Linda, but he did it by the forceful bidding of Anca. He had been abused, just not in the way Nancy thought.

  What do I need to do?

  Linda smiled and floated closer. You need to escape; you need to get your friend over there to safety.

  But how?

  Leave that up to me. I know how to get Anca to leave long enough to get you and Edna out of here and to safety. Repeat after me.

  Nancy nodded, anticipation building in her stomach.

  Nancy repeated everything word for word as it came out of ghost-Linda’s mouth. Nancy found it rather easy to do so; she even had a surprising hint of an Asian accent as she spoke.

  “I remember when we first met. It was in upstate New York.”

  Anca looked up, confusion on her face. “What did you say?”

  “You thought Woodstock was a coven meeting. You showed up in this long dress, flowers in your hair and an air about you that screamed hippie, but you were obviously in the wrong place at the wrong time. You stood out so much.”

  Anca huffed, a bewildered look in her eyes. Nancy continued to repeat Linda’s words.

  “Remember that winter in the Adirondacks? Trapped up in the mountain with nothing but our shawls to keep us warm?”

  Anca’s eyes grew wider and wider as Nancy kept relaying the message, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

  “That was the time you first kissed me, opened my eyes to a whole world of secrets that will most likely remain unspoken for the rest of your life. I was so young, so inexperienced, in both witchcraft and romance. You took my virginity away from me then. We even toyed with summoning a succubus to join in the play, but you hiccuped during the summon and all we ended up with was a sputtering mass of goo that we had to banish back to the other side.”

  Anca backed up; first one step, then another. She raised her hands to her sweat-covered face. Her eyes shone fright as her stare darted around the room. “Linda?” Her voice was timid and wavering. “Linda, is that really you?”

  Nancy replied, “It is, Anca dear. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. I wanted out. I wanted a simple life, a life with you. Why did it have to end?”