by R. R. Virdi
I squinted and fell to a knee, taking care not to let any snow brush against the jacket. No cold brushed against my fingers as I lowered them against the frost. I blinked and turned to look at Lyshae.
She didn’t return my stare, instead keeping her eyes fixed on the endless expanse of white ahead.
I wiggled my index and middle fingers before plunging them into the snow. Nothing. It was like sticking my digits into flour. I shook them clean and rose to my feet. “So, that’s not weird at all.”
“Sarcasm?” Lyshae glanced at me and shook her head in disapproval.
I made a small gesture with my thumb and forefinger.
“Refrain from that when we are inside with our host.” She looked ahead like I was no longer there.
I blinked several times, trying to process what she’d said. “You want me to not be a wiseass?”
“Correct.”
I blinked more. “Uh, I think you may have twisted the wrong guy’s arm.”
Lyshae turned and gave me a smile that made my bowels freeze. “For your sake, Vincent, I hope not. More than your arm will be twisted and broken if you cannot control yourself.”
I answered with a thin smile. “By you?”
“Our host.”
“Who is?” I watched her for any tell.
“Waiting,” she said, moving several steps ahead. “Come.”
Lyshae’s cryptic answers were getting on my nerves. I paused and considered if this was how Ortiz felt when I wasn’t straight with her. Unlikely. Lyshae isn’t as charming as I am. I looked over my shoulder to see the pair of women trundle into the snowy field, giving it the same bewildered look I had.
Ortiz stopped, looking down to her feet and back up again. “I’m not a fan of this.”
Kelly wore the same look as Ortiz. “Me either.”
“Are you two cold?” I arched a brow and waited for the obvious answer.
Kelly frowned and took another step forwards, nudging a small mound of white with the tip of her exposed foot. Her eyes widened, and she glanced at Ortiz. “That’s not normal.”
Ortiz followed the young woman’s lead and knelt much like I had. Her index finger plunged into the snow before she pulled it back and shook it clean. She stared at the snow, then me. “Explain that.”
I rolled my shoulders in a light shrug. “Wish I could. I can’t. Bet she can though if she chooses to.” I tilted my head towards Lyshae. “Come on.” I marched after the fox spirit, ignoring the snow that threatened to work its way over my shoe and against my socks. My pace quickened, and I stole another look to see Ortiz and Kelly had done the same. I pulled up beside Lyshae. “Where exactly is this ball taking place?”
“Ahead of us.” Lyshae raised a hand and waved it like a television presenter showing off a new product. Except there was nothing there.
If I stared any harder, my vision would cut out from the never-ending stark white. The distant air wavered like a desert mirage. I squinted, eyeing the spot to ensure I wasn’t imagining things. I wasn’t. The air waved and bent. The masquerade of December skies fell. It looked like the sky rained old, gray stone. I stopped in my tracks as Lyshae continued ahead.
Ortiz and Kelly froze in place just a foot behind me. We gawked in unison as a castle from old Germanic tales came into view. And I thought Lyshae was good at veils.
The entirety of it was cold stone, long worn from harsh winds and moisture that’d found its way into every possible crack to make them worse. Yet it held together. I had the feeling most of its look was there to inspire a sense of foreboding. It did a great job. It was sixty square miles of spooky.
I counted eight capped spires around the main body of the castle. The closest of them had a set of windows that just so happened to be open. I wagered someone, or something, watched us from within.
Slabs of what looked like polished river stones trailed along a small hill leading up to the front of the castle. They continued to reveal themselves from under the veil until they stopped several feet from where we stood.
Ortiz looked down, then to Kelly before settling on me. “That’s an impressive welcome mat.”
Kelly and I bobbed our heads in agreement. It’s normal to be at a loss for words when a castle appears out of thin air.
My left shoulder throbbed lightly. I looked at Ortiz. “What?”
“Any idea whose party this is?”
I looked at Lyshae and then the castle. “Trouble.”
One of Ortiz’s eyes twitched. “Anyone ever tell you it’s annoying when you’re vague?”
I held my stare on Lyshae and the dark Hogwarts knockoff. “Yeah, I’m starting to sympathize.” Even with all the Kitsune’s money and influence, she didn’t warrant a castle in the Neravene. Most beings didn’t. That was a sign of power you couldn’t just buy or trick your way into. I ran through the list of beings that could’ve called the place their home. The list was short. And the beings comprising it weren’t friendly or anything I wanted to meet.
The tendrils of ice worming their way through my extremities had nothing to do with the surrounding snow. I couldn’t back out on the deal I’d made with Lyshae. We’d sworn the pact and sealed it with blood. There’s magic in mortal blood, and it can be used for all manner of supernatural hoodoo. If I got cold feet now, there’s no telling the damage it’d do to me. Not to mention ruining my name.
Information brokers don’t like dealing with people they can’t trust. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists several times. If I didn’t follow through on this, there was the chance I wouldn’t make it back to solve Daniel’s murder. I had no idea how much time had passed already or the rate at which it was moving. The only option was getting this over with as fast as possible. I jogged after Lyshae, motioning for the Ortiz and Kelly to follow.
We moved along the path in silence. Lyshae’s head remained fixed ahead, but there were micro-movements that let me know she was watching everything around us. That meant she was on guard. But if we were invited, why the need for caution and, more importantly, from what? My stomach sank, and I wondered if we were party crashing. You do not crash your way into anything involving the powerful beings of the Neravene. It’s how you end up on the dinner menu.
Ortiz sidled alongside me, shifting her hips and bumping me gently.
“What’s up?”
She raised her brows and thrust her chin in the direction of Lyshae. “She’s eyeing our surroundings like she’s expecting an attack.”
“How do you know that?”
Ortiz gave me a knowing look. “Because that’s what I’ve been doing. So, tell me, should I expect danger?”
I huffed a breath and shut my eyes for a second. “Ortiz, we’re in a magical realm of monsters where we were not too long ago jumped by cat-people.”
Her mouth and nose scrunched. “Good point.” She brushed a hand against her thigh, feeling for her handguns, seemingly more for comfort than anything else.
I turned my profile until I was sidestepping up the stairs. Kelly trailed behind, and the distance between us grew. The young woman’s head turned in every possible direction like she was trying to commit every detail to memory. Except her eyes were wide and carrying a manic look that comes from stress...or fear. I cleared my throat and inclined my head towards Kelly.
Ortiz caught the look and followed it.
“Think you can hang back and give her a talk?”
“About what?”
“Whatever you can to make her feel comfortable. Any tips that have helped you come to grips with this not-so-nice world I play in? Ortiz, you’ve handled a lot. Just...share what you feel might help her. Please.”
She nodded and slowed her pace until Kelly caught up.
I faced ahead and increased my lead. Ortiz would keep Kelly safe while I kept an eye on our escort. Lyshae wasn’t done manipulating us. Running one game was never enough. The setup with the Bakeneko was a warm-up for whatever else she had planned. It was a good bet the ball was what she had really wanted m
e for. The scene in the green field was just a bonus—a big one.
We rounded a corner and made our way up the final incline. The doors were made from solid wood a color between ebony and walnut. Each one was the length of a city block in height. The dark wood didn’t do anything to brighten the bleak stone around it. Whoever owned the place needed a new decorator. Lyshae walked up to the door. Her Daoine stooge followed her.
I crossed my fingers and hoped they’d lost our invite. If she was rejected at the door, I was free. Technically, I had followed her to the ball as asked. If she couldn’t get in, it was no fault of mine. It wouldn’t free me of the remaining two debts. One down was better than none though. I’d take what I could get.
Lyshae waved a hand towards the door, gesturing for the faerie-Bond to approach it. He did and knocked three times. Nothing happened.
I gave silent thanks and raised a hand into the air. “Well, can’t say we didn’t try. Shame really. And you didn’t even change clothes.” I pursed my lips and pouted at Lyshae.
She turned and smiled. “I didn’t want to ruin my real dress. I’ll change when it’s necessary. Besides, leaving now would be rude.”
“Eh?” The surface of the snow shuddered, and I took a step back. Ortiz and Kelly came into my view, and I waved a hand, ushering them back.
They didn’t listen. Go figure.
The ground tremored like it harbored a secret itching to burst free. Knowing my luck, it’d be a bad one.
Plumes of snow erupted a dozen feet into the air. Humanoid figures sprang from the ground.
I hate being right sometimes.
They looked like men who had never seen the sun. Their skin was the sort of white that could only be achieved after death and if you were left out in a frozen tundra. They were clad in armor that’d gone out of fashion centuries ago. Darkened steel rings that linked together and furs over leather. The monsters turned slowly to face us, giving us a hollow stare like they were looking through us. The entirety of their eyes were the color of a frozen lake—glassy gray-whites that added another layer of emptiness to their gaze. Frost and bits of ice clung to them in places like a second skin. They shambled in place like they were waiting for something. I counted six of them.
Ortiz brushed aside part of her dress. She hunched a bit and her hands flew to her holsters.
“Wait!” I held a hand and prayed she wouldn’t draw.
The Popsicle-people shifted to face Ortiz. The sound of stiff metal and sinew filled our ears with little clinks and cracks.
Ortiz stopped an inch from pulling a gun. She looked at the ice-men then me.
I gave her a weak smile. “I think they’d take it personally.”
She lifted her hands and raised them in a cautious manner.
Cold acid seared my marrow, threatening to freeze me from the inside. “Wights.” My voice was a whisper not audible over the ice cracking over their bodies. Wights were out of old German myths. The freaks were undead creatures that had managed to cling onto a portion of their soul. Well, whatever was left after centuries of decay and magical bastardization. The soul doesn’t hold up all too well after decades in a dead body with strain.
The chill going through my body deepened. Oh, crap. Could that happen to me? I repressed a shiver. I’m nothing like those things. Say it a few more times and you’ll believe it. Shut up. After I was done with my mental self-flagellation, I ran through what else I knew about wights.
I didn’t have much else. They were strong—comes from being undead and not held back by silly things like self-preservation. The creatures still retained something close to human-level intelligence. And the only way I knew how to kill them was with fire. There wasn’t an abundance of that around.
The wight closest to Lyshae raised his head and let its mouth fall open. No noise came out. The creature’s chest heaved like it was working air through its lungs and remembering how to speak. A hollow, high-pitched sound left its mouth like wind going through a glass bottle. “Leave.”
I don’t know what possessed me to open my mouth. “But if you don’t buy the cookies, we can’t send the girls to Orlando.”
The wights turned in unison to face me.
Ooooh boy. Being the center of attention isn’t always a good thing. I let out a weak laugh and held out my hands like I had an offering. “We’ve got snickerdoodles?” I gave them a lopsided grin.
Ortiz’s groan was audible.
Kelly sucked in a breath, her eyes wide.
Lyshae looked like she was going to slap me.
The wights offered no other response.
“Don’t tell me you’re into those mint cookies?” I gave them a look of mock horror and made a retching sound. “Because mint...cool taste...cool...you guys are...” I stopped talking after their empty-eyed stares managed to light with a hint of murder. “Heh.”
Lyshae didn’t care much for my witticisms and walked towards the closest wight. Everyone remained rooted as she crossed the distance, slow and confident. Either she had something up her sleeve, or she knew something I didn’t. Being that it was Lyshae, I’d wager on both. The Kitsune stopped a foot from the creature, and she extended an index finger. She bent it several times, beckoning the wight to come closer. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like she was in charge of the situation. The creature obliged her summons, and Lyshae leaned in until her lips were by its ears. She moved them, but I couldn’t hear what she’d said.
The wight pulled back like its muscles and joints were frozen. I had a feeling it was more to do with what the trickster spirit had told him. He blinked once and turned to face his crew. “Escort them.”
Oh, goodie.
The wights by Ortiz and Kelly ushered the ladies to my side before flanking us. The lead snowman shambled towards the doors. Deep, resounding thuds echoed from the doors each time its fist crashed against them. The castle groaned like it was a beast roused from a long slumber, and it was angry. Loose particulates and snow shook free of the doors as they vibrated. The groaning intensified, and a sharp keen rang out as the doors opened.
We followed the chief snow zombie as he led the way. A veil of roiling fog obscured whatever lay behind the doors.
How convenient.
The leader of the wights paused before it, allowing the rest of us to catch up. He placed his hand against it, raking the fog like he could tear a piece free. The gaseous barrier dissipated, and a mixture of warm brass and amber lights filled our view.
I squinted against the sudden barrage of brightness.
A cacophony of voices and instruments reverberated through and out over us.
The wight placed a hand to either side of his mouth. “The Lady Lyshae and...escort, Vincent Graves.”
The noise died.
Chapter Twenty
My eyes adjusted to the light. The doors opened into a hall that looked like it went on for several miles. The floor looked like the snow had made its way inside and flattened into stone. Flecks of white skittered along the surface like every breeze was lifting bits of the flooring to whisk it away. It looked like it was flurrying upside down. Chandeliers hung in the air suspended by unseen hands. They burned with the golden hues I’d seen earlier. I couldn’t make out the number of heavy, ebony wood tables filling the place. Every one of them was packed with beings. All of them stared at me.
Popularity sucks.
I smiled, and the stares intensified. There was a long moment where it felt like my gaze held every single other one in attendance. Thankfully, someone must’ve said something funny because a chorus of laughter erupted from a far back corner. It rippled along, dying a third of the way down the length of the hall. The joke must’ve been good because it prompted the guests to return to their drinking and revelry. My shoulders sagged, and a bit of the strength fled my back. I slumped as I exhaled.
Lyshae stepped beside me, taking my hand within hers. “That was well done. Holding their stares without word was better than I expected. I was afraid you would open
your mouth.”
I glowered.
Lyshae returned a grin. “Good. Hold that—silently.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Her smile grew. “Better.”
“What was that about? How’d Frosty know my name?”
Lyshae looked at me like the answer was obvious. “Why, I told him.”
“You what—why?”
“Because...you have a reputation among many that I seek to exploit. The more eyes on you, the better.”
You mean the fewer eyes on you. So, she didn’t want me for the muscle. I was a patsy for something I needed to get wise to quickly. There was another thing that needed to be cleared up as well. “What reputation?”
“Word of your cases and the beings you’ve killed has spread over the years. The flames of that reputation may have been fanned and exaggerated by certain parties.” Lyshae’s eyes gleamed under the light, but her face remained neutral.
Yeah, I bet.
“Much of the Neravene views you as a juggernaut of sorts. A mortal that can’t die for long. Something that always returns and is relentless. Not to mention your particular talent for absorbing punishment.”
“Wow. I didn’t know I was viewed like that. I mean, I had an idea, but...” I rubbed my face and stared at the countless mass of supernatural nasties. A silent plea ran through my mind, begging me not to test out my reputation. Any one of the figures in attendance had a good shot of being something that could pancake my ass.
“Yes, Vincent. It’s taken a great deal of work to build your reputation for my purposes. Don’t ruin it before I get my use out of it, because I know the truth about you.”
I arched a brow.
“You’re a destructive buffoon.”
My scowl returned. “Bitch.”
She laughed and moved ahead of me with her bodyguard.
My hand shot out, grabbing her by her forearm. If she wanted me to act like a hard ass, she and everyone else would see it firsthand. I jerked hard and pulled her close.