Body of Ash

by Eli Constant

  “And five eyes for the five victims,” Liam speaks slowly, working it out in his head. “And if the stone doesn’t reanimate the body it’s in, what happens?”

  “My grandmother walked me through it once. How to make one. God, it was a long time ago.” I start pacing, rubbing my hands together. “Perfect jade, round for skipping, cut in half and blood for dipping. Once together, say these words: a life once gone, will now return.”

  “But you said the runes were different on this one?” Liam stands also.

  “Yeah. They weren’t for healing, they were for siphoning.”

  “Theoretically, if the blood in the stone was from another person, would the siphoned magic go to that blood source?” He continued, running a hand through his hair in a habitual gesture I’ve never seen before. He’s typically so in control, so sure of himself. When he sees me looking at him, he drops his hand and straightens his shoulders.

  “Yes... maybe. I mean, anything’s possible I guess. I only know what I know. If my ancestor could make them for one purpose, someone could change them for another.”

  “I think, perhaps, we should have a chat with our grumpy dwarf king.” Liam pushes his hands into his pocket. “And see if perhaps he knows more than he’s said.”

  I nod. Though, I wasn’t entirely sure Mordecai would be pleased to see me. His visit to me had felt... a bit final. Almost a goodbye, like he thought the end was nigh.

  “Tori?” The door to the office creaks open and I see Kyle, looking slightly pale once again, leaning against the frame.

  “Hey, you shouldn’t be up.” I rush over, and hug him awkwardly, bumping my elbow hard into the wall. “Shit,” I grunt out, falling against him. He wavers, and for a second I think we’re both going to topple over. He manages to keep us upright though.

  “And miss this greeting? I don’t think so.” The words are weak, but he quirks a small smile. I lean forward and kiss him gently on the cheek.

  “Let’s sit you back down.”

  “Actually, I think I want to go home if that’s okay.” Kyle extracts himself from me and turns around to get an oversized gray sweatshirt that’s folded on his desk. He’s shaking a little now. Cold. It dawns on me... I’ve been so focused on the case...

  “Liam, were you able to remove the Dark Court mark?” I know my eyes are pleading for Liam to say yes, but I can see by his expression that I’m not going to get the answer I want.

  “No, I was able to weaken the effects of it, but not remove it entirely. For that, I’m afraid, we’ll need an actual healer.”

  “Dammit,” I murmur. “That’s... not good, Liam.”

  “I know that. And you’re not going to like how we’re going to procure said healer. But that’s a matter for another moment. The larger threat must be addressed first. I’ve made Kyle strong enough to resist the worst of the mark.”

  “And if I care more about my boyfriend than I do about Bonneau?” I argue, feeling the beginnings of a headache threatening. There’s just too much going on, too much for any one person to deal with.

  “Then you are not the person I believe you to be, my Queen.” He sounds so certain, like he knows me so well. And that tiny sliver inside of me that was starting to thaw freezes over again. Though... the ice is now thin enough to fall through too damn easily.

  “Let’s just go home, Kyle.” I turn to my bear beau who’s putting on a good face. “We’ll set you up on the couch, get the TV going, brew some coffee. I’ve got a few things more to do today, but then I’ll be home. No funeral work on the calendar.”

  Kyle looks at the floor, then back up. “Actually, Tori, I want to go to Dad’s house. I think it’s safer for everyone.”

  “Safer? Kyle, you can barely walk, let alone hurt anyone. No. You’re coming back to my house where I can watch over you better. Besides, you said home was with me. And no take backs.” I try to smile, try to make it a joke, but it’s not a joke at all.

  Not to me.

  Kyle insists on taking a taxi from the bar to his Dad’s place. Him driving off wrenches something in my stomach.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “REMEMBER, HE DOESN’T really like visitors.” I direct the car onto the dirt road that leads to Mordecai’s place. He’s fixed the sign since last time I was here, though I highly doubt business is any better.

  “I seem to remember being the fly on the wall whispering in your ear what to do, first you met the Dwarf King.” He leans forward, studying the building that’s appeared in the near distance. “Not much of a kingdom really.”

  “It is to him,” I remarked, noticing that Liam’s not wearing his seatbelt. He typically doesn’t. “I really wish you’d put on your seatbelt when we’re driving.”

  “To what end? The very worst of car accidents would only decommission me for a few days, Victoria.”

  “Call it the human thing in me, but I’d just rather not watch you go flying headfirst through the windshield, Liam. Incredible fae body-healing aside.” Saying the words, made me think of a question I’d wanted to ask for a long time. “Liam, are you... are the fae in general, immortal? I mean, you’ve taught me a zillion things, but not once have you mentioned lifespan. Only that it’s really unusual for you all to die, so funerals are reverent, spiritual occasions.”

  “To give you perspective, Victoria, Kir-shava-ley occurs about once every fifty years.”

  “So, immortal unless something really badass offs one of you?”

  “No. Really, really long lives—by your human standards—unless something ‘badass’, as you so eloquently put it, offs one of us.”

  “Interesting. So how old are you then?”

  “Old enough to know I’d rather not answer that question, as I know you’re not into dating vastly older men.” His clever boyish smile lit up the car then and I couldn’t help but smile in reaction to seeing it. Liam could be... irritatingly infectious.

  “Now how do you know I don’t harbor secret desires for Silver Foxes? Clooney and Connery could get in my pants 365 days of the year.” I pull to a stop and shift into park a hundred feet or so from Mordecai’s front stairs.

  “I believe the human actors Clooney and Connery are an exception to the ‘age matters’ rule for any woman. I honestly don’t see the appeal,” Liam gets out of the car, I follow a second later after turning off the car. “If it were me, I’d go for Keanu. As half-fae, Reeves’ aging process is significantly slowed. Not to mention that he’s as beautiful as a human male can be.”

  “Let me guess,” I smile so hard I know the skin around my eyes is crinkled. “You saw ‘Speed’ and lost your boy crush virginity to an action hero cop with a smile for days? Well, I feel like I have to warn you—crushes based on intense actors never work.”

  “Good thing I based it on sex then. He’s not a bad partner.” Liam’s eyes are twinkling, and for the life of me, I’ve no idea if he’s joking or not.

  And then, of course, I can’t get the thought of a Liam-Keanu mash-up out of my head. And how I’d like to be smack dab in the middle of that fae-laced man sandwich. I shiver, like full body shiver. And then blush, because I know Liam knows exactly what I’ve been thinking about.

  “Stop looking at me like that, Liam,” I admonish. He’s actually blank-faced, looking at me with an unwavering gaze. It bothers me more than if he was staring at me with bedroom eyes whilst licking his lips.

  “I’m being entirely neutral, Victoria. I’m not sure what else you want from me.” He walks away towards the porch. If it were me, I’d have hesitated at the base of the stairs and called out to Mordecai, but Liam marches up pretty as you please and slams his fist against the door. “Dwarf King! We require your assistance!”

  “Liam,” I harsh whisper, “this is pretty much the opposite of your advice to me last year. Hello?” I motion at our surroundings. “King. Territory. Show deference.”

  “I’m tired, Victoria. He lives here, out in the middle of nowhere, away from his born world. If he wanted the pomp and circumsta
nce of the royal life, he has chosen the wrong path.”

  “But you told me—”

  “You have not spent as long in the supernatural world as I have, my Queen. You must walk with caution.” He slams his fist against the door again. “Dwarf King, I call your help in the name of Oran-son, Prince of Light.”

  We hear grumbling and something falling over inside the house, then the heavy door creaks open slowly. “What care I for the Prince of Light? What care I for what lies beyond my borders?”

  I push in front of Liam, who’s about to say something equally as fairy pompous I’m sure. He said he was tired, didn’t want to deal with formalities, but the exchanges feel like nothing but politics. And I can’t imagine anything more damn tiring than that. “Mordecai, do you know what a Lazarus Eye is?”

  His attention leaves Liam instantly, and his mouth falls open a little. “Aye, ah ken whit it is, girl.” He crosses his arms, and though despite being at least a head shorter than me, he looks like a giant of a man. I could be Amazon tall, and I’d still feel lesser.

  “You came and warned me about the coven. You said whoever is doing this would need an Adam,” I slap one hand gently, “and an Eve.” I slap the other hand. “That they’re tapping into the ley lines for the power to open a Hellmouth, right?”

  Nodding slowly. “Aye.”

  “The five witches that were killed had their hearts removed and Lazarus Eyes implanted. The runes were different, for siphoning instead of bringing life back to the vessel.”

  “So, tis worse than ah feared.”

  Mordecai turns away from us and enters his house. We follow slowly. It’s just the same as I remember, and I’m prepared for the sensation of nothingness this time. The absence of the afterlife, the ether and the anti-ether, that is a constant blanket around me. It is an old friend that I both hate and am so used to that I also hate to walk without it in this world.

  The first time I was here, I was solely focused on following the Dwarf King through the labyrinth of his home and towards the God Stones. Now, however, I take in the walls and furnishings. Nearly every surface is tartan plaid—a pattern of crimson, navy, gold and black. There is a long antique-looking sofa facing two high-backed chairs, each bearing a shimmering gold crest sewn into the plaid. The first room seems to only be a sitting area. I try to recall moving through the hallways last year, down the stairs, passing the room with animals in various-states of taxidermy.

  “Sit, if ye will.” Mordecai motions at the sofa and he takes up residence in one of the tall chairs. He looks kingly there, large and commanding. Watching him, and feeling the power he contains in his body, I remember the intoxicating feel of his blood. The way I wanted to drown in it. I can taste my pulse in my mouth just remembering how much I’d wanted to kill him and take his rightful essence into my own palace of power. He has such control, the barrier of his skin gives off the aura of a force field.

  “My Queen,” Liam addresses me formally before taking my hand and guiding me to sit next to him on the couch. I shake my head a little, pulling myself from my thoughts. What I really need to do though is to pinch the hell out of myself—the way you do in a lucid dream when you’re not sure which side is up and which side is down. Only a moment of silence lapsed around us before Mordecai got down to business.

  “Speak,” he prompted, “Ah hae things tae do.”

  “A lot on your plate, once-King,” Liam scoffs out.

  Mordecai looks at my fairy, and the expression on his face isn’t angry, or annoyed... it’s thoughtful. And then he lifts a hand slowly, his fingers moving into a cup-shape. There’s a rattling from nearby. I search for the source of the sound and eventually find a dark-red vase on a table. It’s moving slowly, around and around. Then it speeds, faster and faster in a crazy tilt-a-whirl that causes the edge of the vase to lift and fall, lift and fall.

  Liam is looking at it now, his right eyebrow quirked curiously.

  A swirl of darkness spins like a tiny tornado from the opening of the urn. It stays in one place for a while, until I think Mordecai is making some feeble attempt to show his power and assert his authority. And I don’t understand that, because I can sense that he is a pressure cooker of ancient world magic.

  Yet then the twister is shifting across the room in a flash of hard-to-follow motion. It rushes towards Liam and it envelopes his head. He stands, clawing at himself, his fingers sinking into the sand and clay that is a storm obscuring his face. The soil gathers in one large dark cloud and it pushes into his mouth. He fights it, squirming, his eyes going wide.

  “Stop it!” I yell and stand. “Stop it, Mordecai!”

  “He needs tae min’ tha auld ways. Tha power. Tha time ay shadows. Ah was a King, a chosen one. An’ he be naethin’.”

  “Stop it,” I scream again, lifting my hands and letting down the frail barrier that separates the world from the murder inside of me. I reach for his power, and the taste in my mouth is no longer a memory, but the ever present now. It is euphoria on my tongue. I want to swallow him down, every inch of his smaller frame. Something snapped inside of me, with the complete release of the control I kept so tightly. “Mordecai,” I force out, my voice sounding strained, “Mordecai, let him go.” I feel my skin grow hot and my hair fly about my head like static electricity gone insane.

  The Dwarf King doesn’t look at me.

  “Let. Him. Go.” I yell out the words, one by one, pushing a livewire of magic into each utterance. Liam falls against the sofa, his hands around his neck as he coughs.

  Blood. Give me the life, the red, the wet. Give me the magic that dances in your royal veins. I meet your force. I meet it, and I beat it. I will eat you to the marrow. I cannot control the words flowing in my mind. They aren’t mine. They are... but they aren’t—it feels like a stranger firing bullets at my brain.

  Mordecai goes pale. Now he does turn, but I can tell it takes every ounce of strength he has that is not going into the assault on Liam. I focus on his hand, the one held up towards my fairy. I focus on it and I think of the crimson beneath the aged skin. Come to me. Power unto my power, like layers of silk will fall. I’m master of death, warden of decay. The void that consumes oblivion.

  Blood begins to gather on his hand, seeping from his pores. He grimaces, his knees buckling, and his hand drops to his side. Immediately, the tornado falls lifeless and Liam’s face is revealed—his expression equal parts horror, rage, and fear.

  “Let me go, Blood Queen,” Mordecai’s voice is gasping, his accent strangled.

  All I see is the blood. All I feel is the magic. I am consumed. I am my own oblivion.

  I want to kill this Dwarf King.

  Chapter Nineteen

  LITTLE DWARF KING. Do you remember when you were liege of the mountain? Do you remember when you signed our pact? I gave you the lands, harnessed nature in your name. We are bonded, through time and space and mortal vessel.

  The stranger in my head is growing louder, nearly deafening. And the magic. God, the magic...it is a pain so intense that it verges on pleasure.

  “Victoria,” a voice, so faint and otherworldy, reaches my ears, “Victoria, control it.” A blurry figure forms in my mind, standing nearby. In my mind... not real.

  It’s then that I realize my eyes are closed. But if they are in fact closed, how am I seeing an explosion of color? Fireworks of mystical energy firing like I have a second mind... how am I seeing the speaker who is telling me to control it.

  Control what?

  The thing inside pushes again, like it is just across that veil and it only needs me to welcome it with open arms. Hesitation clouds everything, and I can tell the strange voice hates that I’m trying to hold onto myself and fight.

  I’m lost. So lost. I’ll never be me again.

  Another form is a haze against the backs of my eyelids.

  Hands grip my wrists, and they are too small formed to be Liam’s. A flood of pure white light pushes into my hands and works up my arms. It reaches my shoulders and s
inks into my chest. It’s nature. Flowers. Trees. The God Stones.

  Mordecai is giving me the goodness of the planet, the fount of his own magical seed.

  And it is expelling the stranger, the eater of souls.

  I find myself blinking, fast and furious, until I see Mordecai’s face. There are wrinkles across his brow, and his mouth is taut with concern.

  “What... what happened?” I feel weak, and I sit on the sofa quickly—too quickly, which makes my head rush and my stomach turn.

  I feel Mordecai wants to say something, but Liam speaks first.

  “That is the first time you have attempted to access the depth of your power, Victoria. You’re not ready. You cannot do that again, not until you are better trained.” Liam is still standing, looking down at me. He has not lost that battlefield of emotion. In fact, the war might be raging even harder now—after my lapse into madness.

  It is then that Mordecai speaks once more, but his words are haunted by something unsaid. “Ask yer questions, Blood Queen. Ah believe yer visit is come to an end.”

  I swallow hard, but the lump left in my throat from the fear of that strange voice remains. Liam does not take back his seat beside me; he stands near the exit to the room instead, ready to fly when we’ve gotten what we came for.

  My throat hurts when I talk now. “Mordecai, you came to me and you knew what was going on before anyone else did. What does having the Lazarus Eyes in the equation mean? What does it change?” The sofa is super uncomfortable, stiff and there’s a thick metal coil sticking into my ass so bad that I can’t stop wiggling—which isn’t very Queen-like.

  “The Adam and Eve... they are not simply trying to open a Hellmouth. They do not desire to simply let demons into the world. They are reaching for a goal past the hell gates, deep in the depths of the Underworld. They reach for the Cage of the Unseen.” He says it without his homeland accent. He sounds disconnected now, resigned.

  “It is not possible,” Liam breathes out beside me. “That magic is forged for eternity. And the ashes within cannot be resurrected without the touch of the originals.”