Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors

by Gualtieri, Rick

“A dog?” Sally asked.

  “I’ll explain later,” I replied, turning Christy’s way again. “Are you still...?”

  “We’ll talk later,” she said. “But I’m more tired than anything else right now.”

  “Shall I assume it’s not because you spent the night crying your eyes out on my behalf?”

  She pursed her lips and gave her head a shake. “Not quite. I was knee deep in research.”

  “Let me guess,” Sally said. “About me?”

  At that, Christy looked slightly embarrassed. “Actually no. I was busy trying to find more info about the a'chiad dé danann.”

  “Proto-leprechauns,” I explained. “We fought a bunch last night.” Sally glanced between us for a moment, to which I added, “It’s been a robust twenty-four hours.”

  “Join the club.”

  “Sorry,” Christy said. “I’m not trying to downplay what happened to you. It’s just...” Her nostrils flared and she raised an eyebrow at me. “Have you been drinking?”

  “A bit.”

  “It’s not even noon yet.”

  “I know.” Suddenly feeling like I was ten and Dad had caught me sneaking peeks at Skinemax again, I tried to explain. “But you really needed to see what happened before the merry maids out there cleaned up the worst of it.”

  “That bad?”

  “On a scale of one to messed up ... batshit insane.”

  “For once, Bill does not exaggerate.”

  Christy shook her head, looking dismayed. “Now I wish I’d been a little more focused on this last night instead.”

  I shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who gave the all clear.”

  “You didn’t give the all clear, dumbass,” Sally replied. “I sent you home. This is on me.”

  “I’m pretty sure we can all share the blame,” Christy said.

  I gave half a nod. “In all fairness, it’s not like we have a rulebook for any of this – other than not asking Sally to play Jenga.”

  “Bite me, asshole.”

  Christy raised an eyebrow. “Jenga?”

  “Inside joke,” I said, before clarifying, “not really all that funny actually. Let’s grab a seat and we can explain.” As Sally led us into the living room, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sate my curiosity while the topic was still fresh. “Learn anything new about those leprechauns, by the way? Maybe some other stupid thing they’re allergic to?”

  Christy shook her head. “Not really. I was more focused on trying to figure out why they’ve reappeared after all this time.”

  “Leprechauns in New York,” Sally remarked. “Pretty sure I’ve seen that movie.”

  “You’re thinking about...”

  “It was a joke. I don’t actually care,” she interrupted before turning to Christy. “So, before we get to my shit show, any luck deciphering why the five boroughs have been invaded by little green men?”

  Christy sat down and shrugged. “Nothing concrete, but I’m working on a theory.”

  “Please tell me it’s a good theory.”

  “And you just guaranteed that it’s not,” Sally replied.

  Christy inclined her head. “She’s right. It’s not. I was wondering about these creatures, not so much what they are, but the fact that I’d barely even heard of them. Not to toot my own horn, but I consider myself fairly learned in the dark arts.”

  “Something I don’t think either of us would disagree with,” I said.

  She flashed me a quick grin, acknowledging the compliment. “I got to thinking, then I pulled out some of Harry’s old history texts. They’re mostly filled with ancient legends and prophecies from the early days of the Magi, but it was able to give me an idea of the state of the world back then, so I could try and compare it to now.”

  “I, for one, can attest that the internet is a wonderful thing.”

  “You would never have survived the seventies,” Sally remarked.

  Christy waited for us to finish, then said, “I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this before, but our world has been in a slow decline for millennia, at least in regard to creatures from beyond the veil.” We both nodded, so she continued. “To give an example, as crazy as things got during the war between the vampire nation and Forest Folk, it was nothing compared to thousands of years ago.”

  I raised my hand. “Are we allowed to agree to disagree? Because things got pretty fucking crazy against the Feet.”

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to downplay it. The thing is, outside of the Jahabich themselves, we didn’t really encounter anything we shouldn’t have.”

  “No offense, but I’m not sure if you remember that Jahabich prison at the center of the Earth and all the pants shitting horrors contained within. I mean, we’re talking giant slime covered bat monsters and...”

  “I’m well aware,” she replied. “And true, a good deal of what was seen at the height of the war was not exactly common in this day and age. But we’re also talking allies of both warring races ... creatures known to them, if not to you.”

  “Yeah, Bill,” Sally said. “Not to be harsh, but the Draculas had an Olympic swimming pool of knowledge compared to the thimbleful of what they told you.” Before I could say anything to that, she added, “Same with me. I saw snippets at best during my time, but it was enough to tell me I’d have needed another thousand years to barely scratch the surface.”

  I leaned back, not quite following any of this. “Okay, so there’s a lot more out there than I’m aware of. The point of all this?”

  “The point is,” Christy continued, “that the creatures we saw, while fantastic, are just the tip of the iceberg compared to what used to roam the land. The ancient myths make mention of myriad creatures, some we’re familiar with today, but also others that have no equivalent to anything we know of. Take dryads, for instance. They aren’t exactly common, but the Magi have known about them since before the Peloponnesian Age.”

  “Aren’t those like, Greek Treebeard things?”

  “Thus proving my point,” Sally stated.

  “Not exactly,” Christy said. “But the bottom line is, while a layman might not know what they are, we do. But those things we fought last night. They’re different. They’re so old, that even the Magi consider them nothing more than a myth.”

  “So ... where have they been all this time?”

  “Who can say?” she replied. “All we really know is that the world has changed over time. For whatever reasons, some creatures were exterminated, others left this world, and still more were cast out never to be seen again. What we saw last night was the equivalent of finding a living dinosaur.”

  “Jurassic Park: The Bronx. Why has nobody written that yet?” Both ladies glared at me, so I quickly tried to cover my ass. “Sorry, but it kind of fits. I mean, some old guy finding their DNA in amber makes as much sense as anything else.”

  “It’s always fascinating watching your mind do the exact opposite of work.”

  Christy wisely chose to ignore both of us. “What I’m trying to say is that over time the natural order created a sort of balance if you will, even with regards to unnatural beings. Some creatures were driven out, while others asserted dominance. Over time, things changed until it became the world we knew. Chaotic as it was, there was still a balance of power, one that had come to be over thousands of years. Except, by doing what we did, destroying the Source, we inadvertently upended that balance.”

  “Why does that not sound particularly good?”

  “Because it’s not,” she replied to me. “It means that the rules have not only changed, they’ve been thrown out the window. There’s no telling what could show up in our world now that the old gatekeepers are gone. Today it might be the proverbial devil we know, but tomorrow we could be facing something that hasn’t been seen since the dawn of time.”

  “I’m guessing that means we should start stocking up on potatoes.”

  “Potatoes?” Sally asked.

  “Apparently, they are the holy hand grena
de of tubers.”

  “If you say so,” she remarked dubiously. “Either way, sounds like we screwed the pooch big time by opening things up again. What a surprise.”

  “Not us,” I said. “Gan.”

  Christy nodded, then gestured toward Sally. “Which brings us full circle back to you. Gansetseg never named whatever entity she’d forged a deal with. I think that was purposeful. Almost all known pantheons have rituals associated with them for summoning, appeasement, even banishment. If we knew what she had made contact with, it would be the first step in knowing how to deal with it.”

  “Except it’s not about her,” Sally said. “At least not anymore. Whatever that thing was, it zapped me instead. So what does that mean? Do I need to worry about being banished to some netherworld, or maybe ritualistically cleansed by fire?”

  “Don’t be silly...”

  Christy shrugged uncomfortably. “I won’t lie to you. If it comes down to it, yes.”

  “Wait, what?”

  Oddly enough, though, Sally smiled. “I appreciate the honesty and, don’t worry, no offense taken.”

  “But it could be worse than that,” Christy said, because of course it could be. “What if Gansetseg took things a step further?”

  “How does one take a deal with the devil a step further?” I asked, really wishing I hadn’t.

  “By making a deal with a devil that nobody remembers,” Sally surmised.

  Christy nodded. “Exactly. The old texts don’t just make passing mention of day to day threats the world has long since forgotten. There’s ... more.”

  I reached up to rub my eyes. “I’m going to regret asking what more means, aren’t I?”

  The look on Christy’s face told me all I needed to know. “I’m working with limited resources here, and there’s a lot that’s open to interpretation, but I still found a few scattered references that seem to hint at unnamed gods and demons – entities whose names haven’t been uttered since mankind first discovered fire, and for good reason.”

  All at once I was wishing I had another glass or three of tequila. “That’s ... not even remotely reassuring.”

  “It’s not,” Christy agreed. “But there is one major plus in our favor here.”

  “Sally’s new hair color? Because it is kinda funky.”

  “No. And before I continue, let me just say this is nothing more than mere speculation on my part, but it seems sound to me. Whatever happened to Sally was intended for Gan – some kind of deal or reward maybe, even beyond getting her immortality back. So whatever it is, it stands to reason it was something she wanted. That’s perhaps our one advantage. Sally got it instead.”

  “Too bad it didn’t come with an instruction manual,” she replied with a heavy sigh.

  “Hold on,” I said. “Let’s back up a bit here. How would one even know how to reach out to a god...?”

  “Entity.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We have no idea what she actually made contact with.”

  “Fine. Entity. How would Gan even figure out how to reach an entity that nobody remembers? The whole nobody remembering them part kind of covers that.”

  Christy opened her mouth to answer, probably either to confirm what I was hinting at – that Gan likely had help from a smarmy stool pigeon masquerading as a bird of prey – or to yell at me for bringing it up again.

  However, Sally beat her to the punch. “The First Coven would’ve known how.”

  Christy’s eyes met mine and there was little doubt what she was thinking. Guess I should’ve prodded Sally a bit harder to join us at the meetup last night.

  “Maybe not directly,” she continued. “But I have no doubt shit like that and worse was in their old archives. If Gan was maybe able to gain access to them...”

  “No maybe about it,” I interrupted.

  “What do you mean?”

  I smiled sheepishly, knowing she wasn’t going to like what I had to say. “You might’ve missed a few things while you were busy being held captive at the Earth’s core.” I quickly filled her in on the fact that Gan had laid claim to the First Coven’s lair, their fortune, and presumably everything else they owned – including the vast records they’d maintained.

  When I was done, Sally let out a deep sigh. “Remember earlier when I asked how fucked we were? You probably should’ve led with that.”

  “Sorry. Was distracted by the dead guy outside.”

  Christy, fortunately, was there to keep us on track. “You’re sure that kind of information would’ve been in there?”

  “No, of course I’m not sure,” Sally replied. “Outside of a couple fact finding missions for James over the years, I didn’t rate access. But Colin did.”

  Alas, it was a function he was phenomenally adept at. What the? I tried to ignore my subconscious and its apparent newfound admiration for the oily douchebag. “So ... he told you about...?”

  “No way. That asshole wouldn’t have told me the time of day if he’d been tied up outside at high noon. But, he never turned down an opportunity to gloat. Hell, he even bragged this one time about how they offered him a position as an archivist at the home base in Switzerland, but he turned it down because he felt his true destiny was to lead.” She let out a laugh. “Hah! We all know how that one turned out.”

  “Too true,” I replied with a grin.

  “That still leaves us back at square one,” Christy said, bringing us out of the pleasant reverie of Colin’s final fate.

  “Wish I could offer more.” Sally leaned forward and tented her fingers. “But the betting girl in me says this is an easy call. The Dracs were pretty OCD when it came to data. If someone somewhere had access to forbidden knowledge, you can be certain they wanted it, too. And they were good at collecting it. Really good. We’re talking about a repository of fucking evil that is unmatched in all the world.”

  I shared a quick glance with Christy, to which she replied, “Perhaps not entirely unmatched.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “So, you’re telling me there’s a secret wizard library that’s potentially equally as terrifying as the First Coven’s?” Sally asked after we’d brought her up to speed for the second time in an hour. “Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”

  “It’s under strict lock and key,” Christy said. “Though I don’t know the specifics, the acolytes of the Falcon Archives are supposedly placed under several strict geas to ensure they’re unable to divulge what they know, even if they want to.”

  Left unsaid was that wouldn’t have meant shit during magic’s five year hiatus.

  Sally turned to me after a moment. “What, no gay ass joke? Look at you being all adult and shit.”

  “You’re just lucky Tom isn’t here right now.”

  “Tell me about it. I should play the lottery.”

  “Can we focus here?” Christy chided.

  “Sorry,” Sally said, smirking. “You were talking about Magi compulsion, right?”

  Christy grimaced uncomfortably. “It’s ... a necessity. Otherwise, we would never...”

  “Relax. I lived in a glass house for thirty years. I’m in no position to throw stones.”

  “The problem with all of this,” I said, “is as much as we know, there’s too much we don’t. We have two vast storehouses of ancient knowledge, one or both of which has the answers we need to help Sally. But it’s not as if we can just walk up to either like they’re a branch of our local library.”

  Silence descended upon the apartment for several seconds, broken only by the sounds of the cleanup crew as they finished up outside.

  “So how do we fix that?” Sally asked at last. “I mean, let’s stop focusing on the problem and figure out some solutions, even if they’re half-assed.”

  “We need answers, plain and simple,” I said. “The thing is, we don’t even know where Gan is. And even if we did...”

  “She’d be unlikely to help the whore,” she replied, using air quotes and a healthy dollop of bitterness.
“At least without there being something in it for her.”

  “Probably meaning me. A sacrifice which I...”

  “That leaves the Falcon Archives,” Christy stated, cutting me off.

  “Yeah, but...”

  “No buts. We can’t afford to wait on this. We need to gain access, even if it means swallowing our pride and apologizing profusely.” She fixed me with a stare, causing me to shrink down in my chair.

  “Sorry.”

  Sally smirked. “Looks like someone is eating crow for dinner tonight.”

  “Bottom line is we have no other choice,” Christy continued, ignoring her. “Matthias is the only person with the knowledge and pull to help us. Now we just have to hope he’s willing to.”

  LIBRARY CARD

  “Are we really sure this is a good idea?”

  “Considering our lack of other options, yes,” Christy replied, sitting next to me on the PATH train.

  Sally sat across from us in the otherwise empty car. After reaching out to Falcon and getting him to agree to another audience with us, we’d headed out – taking the sewer exit, thanks to my extreme sunlight allergy.

  That itself had been ... interesting, watching the vamps of Village Coven 2.0 scatter as we approached, or more like as Sally approached.

  Sadly, there really hadn’t been time to offer up any reassurances to them outside of, “Everything is under control,” which had sounded as fake to me as it probably had to them. Oh well, chalk it up to yet another on the growing list of fires that were in need of putting out.

  Once we reached the nearest station, Christy had helpfully broken out the magic to ensure we got a car to ourselves and could thus talk freely on the short trip downtown. Ironically enough, Falcon had instructed us to head to the docks on West Tenth, the neighborhood where Village Coven once had a safe house. We’d be stepping onto the same turf where Night Razor had met his end. I swear, the more things changed the more fucking weird they got.

  Talking to Falcon was potentially a double-edged sword. On the one hand, if his archives had knowledge of what had done this, it would certainly cast light that the accusation I’d thrown at his feet yesterday, the same one he was supposedly looking into, was possible. But if he had no clue as to what had zapped Sally, well, then we’d be stuck in the same spot we were now, knowing jack shit.