Dreams of the Forgotten Dead Read online

  “Have I met Nagma?”

  “Not that I know of. She stays close to Sri Lanka for most of the year. You may have seen her in Faerie, at the Royal Court. But I do not believe you met her.”

  “How’s Euphemia doing?”

  “From what I can tell, she’s holding up well in my place. Euphemia is trying to bring the blue men of the Minch into talks with some of Lewena’s undines. I wish her luck with that. One side is as bullheaded as the other. She would make a good queen should something happen to me.”

  I turned at the next intersection as old town Saint Charles came into view. “Why would you say that?”

  Nixie hesitated.

  “What? What is it? I think you can tell me if we can sincerely joke about getting dismembered.”

  Nixie let out a low laugh. “You’re right, of course. There are things that will happen as long as I am queen. Things I have no wish to burden you with, Damian.”

  “Pretty sure I have more baggage than you. Did you see that thing I was trapped in? I mean, damn. That was one replay I didn’t need to see.”

  Nixie reached out and squeezed my leg. “I know why Nagma gifted me a peacock. Word is spreading about Atlantis, and it will open old wounds amongst the undines. She fears I will be assassinated.”

  I slowly raised an eyebrow. “She gave you a bird because she thinks you may be assassinated? And you’re okay with that? So you think you’re in danger? More than usual anyway?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “About the bird or the danger?”

  “All of it? None of it? I don’t know, Damian.” The peacock stuck his head through the middle of the seats and made a strange mournful gargling sound. “She thinks one of the serpent clans may come for me. They were fiercely supportive of Lewena.”

  “We still have stone swords,” I said. “We could get some of the bullets from Park or Casper, I’m sure. Mike helped craft them, and they’re pretty horrible.”

  “I remember, Damian.”

  “Right, of course you do.” And like a movie playing back in my head, I remembered the crack of Casper’s rifle, the fall of Lewena, and the screams that followed. But that brought me back to what Nixie had said. “What’s a serpent clan? Like the Utukku?”

  “Oh no, not like the Utukku. The serpent clans are still undines, but they rode serpents in war.”

  “Humans have done that too. Using snakes, or at least their venom, to assassinate people. And Nugget is here to look out for you?” I glanced down at the bird’s crest resting on the console. He seemed more than capable of eating a snake or three.

  “Damian, there are times your naivete is adorable. You cannot ride on the back of a cobra, can you?”

  “Ride? As in literally ride?”

  “Yes. Not all serpents foretell great evil. But there are some that do. And the basilisks were some of the worst.”

  I sat up a little straighter. “You’re telling me some of those things are still around? I thought Morrigan said they’d all been killed off.”

  “There are some things not even the Morrigan knows, Damian. And there are secrets among the undines that have been hidden for millennia. The guardian of Atlantis died a thousand years ago, by all accounts. But did he not rise to slay the Eldritch who attacked Puerto Rico? I should like to introduce you one day.”

  “To the Mosasaurus? I think I’d like that. Terrified of it, sure, but I’d like to see that. But stop trying to change the conversation. Snakes. Assassination. And go.”

  Nixie offered a small smile. “Many undines call the peacocks snake slayers. And those stories go back further than any of us can remember. Perhaps in the books that survived the fall of Atlantis we may find some detail of it, but I doubt it.”

  “There’s no way this bird can face a basilisk. Those things are as big as a house. I’ve seen the skeleton in Falias.”

  “Ward has faced a basilisk in his lifetime. He can speak to the horror from a human perspective.”

  I kept my eyes on the road as we rounded the turn that would take us to Main Street. “Not filling me with overwhelming confidence here.”

  “You have seen a cu sith fight,” Nixie said. “Creatures of power are not always what they seem. I will keep the peacock close, and you can rest easier. An assassin from the serpent clans would find it difficult to circumvent one of the old beasts.”

  Nugget made a sound somewhere between a honk and a snort.

  “Look, if he doesn’t eat the walls in the shop, he’s a step up from the guard dogs.”

  We hit the cobblestones on Main Street, and I tried not to laugh at the suddenly alert peacock. He looked left and right at every bump in the road until Nixie scratched his head.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “We’re almost there.”

  We passed the parking lots and cars parked along Main, and it felt good to be back. I turned onto Adams, passing the angled door to the shop with the number 345 posted above it. My car bounced into the parking lot, and I took a deep breath as we came to a stop.

  I climbed out and stretched, reaching for a backpack I’d forgotten I didn’t have anymore. Vicky had taken the remnants and stitched together her own. I’d have to get a new one.

  “Well, well, well,” a familiar voice called.

  I turned to find Foster with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. I couldn’t help but grin at the fairy, his platinum blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, curious why he was standing there in his full-sized form.

  “Oh, yeah. I just didn’t want to get trampled.”

  I had about two seconds from the time I heard the first booming bark before Bubbles flattened me against the gravel. And if it hadn’t been for the blur of green and the very, very wet tongue, I don’t think I would have known why I was suddenly staring up at the sky.

  By the time Peanut landed on top of me, I was pretty sure I wasn’t getting up until the cu siths decided to let me up.

  “Bubbles!” Aideen shouted from somewhere I couldn’t see. “Peanut! You let him up right now.”

  Bubbles chuffed, slowly dragged her tongue across my face, and then shot inside the shop. Peanut refused to move until I vigorously scratched his ruff. Only then did he raise his melon-sized paw off my chest and trot back inside.

  Above me, her wings silhouetted in the sun, hovered a sight for sore eyes. Of course, my eyes were literally sore after Aideen flashed into her Proelium state and crushed me in a hug laced in fairy dust. I fought back a sneeze.

  Foster laughed as he threw his arms around both of us. “Gods be damned, it’s good to have you back. I thought the Oreos were going to expire.”

  Nugget took that opportunity to honk at the fairies, and I didn’t miss the sudden stiffening of their backs.

  I nodded toward the bird. “New alarm. In case the cu siths need a break.”

  “Nixie,” Aideen said, almost pouncing on the undine while the peacock eyed her suspiciously.

  “Come on,” Foster said, snapping into his smaller form. “You have to see what Calbach’s been up to. Hopefully you won’t mind some of the changes he made.”

  I shrugged. “I think as far as changes go, I can probably handle whatever an iron-touched Fae can dish out.” But I had a sudden thought that made me worry for the fairies who weren’t iron-touched. “It’s not iron, is it?”

  “Calbach’s a bit more considerate than that,” Aideen said.

  “Good, good. Is Frank here?”

  “He is. Frank’s always here or at the Pit. Although he did get Ashley to watch the store for a few hours yesterday.”

  I started to ask how she was, but then I remembered Beth, and how Cornelius had died in the Shadowed Lands. “Is she doing okay?”

  “I think they both are,” Aideen said. “Beth just needs time.”

  Foster and Aideen started up the stairs when we stepped inside. The deadbolt muttered something about being surprised I was still alive. I knew the feeling.
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br />   “I’ll be up in a second,” I said.

  “See you soon,” Nixie said, giving me a kiss on the cheek before following Foster and Aideen.

  I walked through the back room, past the cu siths’ lair, the Formica table, and the old grandfather clock. Every time I’d set foot in the shop, it felt strange to be there. Like I couldn’t quite believe I was still here. That there was some small piece of normalcy left from before I bonded with Gaia.

  On the other side of the saloon-style doors waited the front of the store. Frank had been upgrading a lot of our inventory before water witches attacked Saint Charles. Business had died off for a time after that, and Nudd’s constant meddling hadn’t helped anything.

  But outside the front windows, past the precious gemstones and display cases, the mortars and pestles and feathers and finely carved candles, I could see a handful of tourists making their way up and down the street. A few storefronts were still closed, but I hoped they’d be back before long. It wasn’t unusual for things to change on Main Street. Some of the small shops thrived, while others came and went in the blink of an eye.

  I turned my attention to a quiet conversation at the counter as Frank rang up our sole customer. Once they were done, and the man exited the store to the chime of the bell, I made my way over to the counter.

  “Hey, Frank.”

  “Damian!” Frank smiled and closed the old register. “Glad to see you back again.”

  “Business picking up?”

  “For a few days now. Excited to see what the weekend looks like. It’s still a little weird out there, you know? But I think people are feeling safer.”

  “You and Sam good?”

  “Oh yeah. I mean, I haven’t seen her as much lately. She’s helping Vik after his arm got, well, dissolved in that fight with the Eldritch. He wasn’t always the perkiest vampire I knew, but man, is he ever gloomy.”

  I nodded. I could only imagine what Vik was going through. He’d lost an arm in that fight. And vampires could recover from a lot, but getting part of your body dissolved by a fragment of an Old God had to take a toll.

  Frank held his arm out and traded grips with me like the werewolves do, palm to forearm. He met my gaze for a time before looking away. It was an odd gesture. Usually, Frank was either all eye contact or no eye contact.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Calbach’s building you that apartment upstairs, right?”

  “Right.”

  Frank fidgeted. “Are you still going to need me working the shop? I mean, if you’ll be here all the time. I don’t know if you’ll need full-time help. I don’t want you keeping me here because of Sam. And—”

  I tried to get a word in, but Frank kept rambling until I finally said, “Frank, shut up.”

  He blinked and stayed quiet.

  “You’ve got a job here as long as you want it. I’m not exaggerating. Look, even if I get killed, the store will be yours and Sam’s. Death’s Door has been here a damn long time, and it’s going to be here a hell of a lot longer.”

  Frank gave me a relieved smile. “Thanks, Damian. It means a lot.”

  “Look, don’t tell anyone I said this, but you mean a lot to me too. And not just because of my sister. You’re a good friend, and you’ve gotten yourself tangled up in some craziness because of me.”

  “Whole world’s tangled up in some craziness, Damian. No need to apologize for it.”

  I smiled at Frank as something crashed and boomed upstairs. We both looked up at the dust drifting down from the floor joists. “Maybe I should check on that.”

  As if on cue, the bell to the front door rang, and two green witches made their way over to an old card catalog Frank had repurposed for herbs and teas. I exchanged a nod with him and headed for the stairs.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Anybody dead?” I called out as I reached the landing on the stairs and started up the rest of the way.

  Nixie had a rather reassuring answer. “Maybe?”

  “What do you mean, maybe?”

  “Something in the wall,” Calbach said, gesturing to the oblong box on the floor. Except box wasn’t quite the right word. It was clearly a coffin.

  “Why is there a coffin in my wall?” I asked. “Who puts a coffin in the wall?”

  Calbach shrugged, the burly Fae’s braided beard twitching as he considered that. “It was blocking some pipes, and I figured you’d want hot water with your cold water.”

  “True, yes, but why is there a coffin in my wall?”

  Aideen crouched down beside it. “It’s engraved. I don’t think it’s a coffin.”

  Foster pursed his lips. “I think it’s a coffin.”

  “May have been designed to be a coffin, but look at the sigils.” Calbach ran his fingers along the edge of the obsidian box. “Runes of protection and preservation.”

  “Maybe it’s a mummy,” Nixie said. “You think Zola would know?”

  Without so much as hesitating, Calbach jammed a pry bar into the lid and put his considerable weight on it.

  “Wait!” Aideen shouted.

  But the coffin only resisted for a moment before the lid pulled away with a rush of air like it was taking a breath.

  We all froze as he put the lid aside. Except the peacock. Nugget honked at the coffin like it was death incarnate.

  Relief washed over me when it wasn’t a body that had been stashed inside the walls. But I didn’t understand what I was looking at. Books filled half of the coffin, and on top of those sat an ancient helmet and a curved sword almost thin enough to be a rapier. But the blade looked as though a wavy Damascus pattern had been etched into it instead of forged.

  “Nudd’s balls,” Foster whispered. “I know who hid this in the wall. Cara did.”

  “How can you tell?” I asked.

  He bent down to pick up the sword. “This was my father’s. A very long time ago. The helmet might have been his too, but I can’t remember.”

  “Shit,” Aideen said, flashing into her Proelium state before picking up several of the books. “These are from … these are from before the Wandering War. Was Cara part of the resistance in the war?”

  The Wandering War had been one of Nudd’s masterstrokes. Convincing the world the Mad King had died, when in fact he had been the Mad King all along. And he’d grown his forces in the shadows after that, grooming the knights of Faerie itself to be his new army.

  Foster fell so quiet it sounded as if he’d stopped breathing. He picked up a silver-handled mirror that looked like something my grandmother would have spent ages studying in a museum. “I thought these were all destroyed.”

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Old magic,” Aideen said. “Older than any of us.”

  “Like Titans?”

  Aideen shook her head. “Unseelie Fae. Before they had a name, and long before any of us knew how dangerous they could be.”

  “Is that a veil mirror?” Calbach stepped away from Foster as he asked the question. “I’ve no mind to see the beyond.”

  Foster started to turn it over, then gently set it back into the coffin. “It should stay buried.”

  I turned to look at whoever was whispering at my back, but only the corridor of books was behind us. A shiver ran down my spine.

  “Does anyone else hear that?” I asked as the voices came and went in waves.

  Nixie cursed under her breath, and her words came out in a rush. “He’s a necromancer. Close it. Close it now.”

  Calbach lifted the lid and slammed it closed. The voices silenced like a switch had been flipped.

  I cocked my head to the side and stared at Nixie. “What the hell was that?”

  “A veil mirror,” Aideen said, drawing my attention. “It’s one of the few ways Fae can see the dead. Those returned to the ley lines. We aren’t like you. Fae don’t leave ghosts behind. We’re one with the ley lines as much as your bodies are one with the earth. What is gone cannot be reborn.”

  “And it’s different with me
because I’m a necromancer?”

  “There are spirits trapped in veil mirrors, Damian. But they are not what they seem. They take on the form of whatever memory they find in the hand that holds the mirror. I don’t know what it would do if you held it.”

  “Open the coffin again. I want to see if the voices come back.”

  Calbach did, and only silence met the void. Aideen reached in and picked up the facedown mirror, and the moment she did, the whispers came back.

  “I can hear them again.”

  Aideen turned the mirror over, revealing the reflective surface much to the protests of Foster and the peacock. Her breath caught in her throat and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “Cara.”

  “What?” Foster said, stepping forward.

  Aideen turned the mirror, and Foster froze.

  But all I could see was a skull. An almost-human skull with a sickly red fire in its eyes. Eyes that turned away from Foster and locked onto me before they flared like gasoline thrown onto a flame.

  “What in the ever-loving fuck is that?”

  “Cara,” Foster whispered. “Don’t you remember her?”

  “Yeah, I remember Cara. But whatever that thing is, it’s not Cara.”

  Skeletal fingertips clawed at the edges of the mirror as the whispers grew louder. It was like the souls left inside my head after Gettysburg, but different. Wrong. The skull’s eyes turned from crimson to an iridescent rainbow, like the flesh of an Eldritch thing.

  “That’s no spirit,” I hissed. “That’s an Eldritch creature trapped inside that thing.”

  The skull split into a fractured scream that no one else seemed to hear. I almost doubled over with the pain of it until Nugget’s tail flashed wide, and the whispers fell silent.

  The thing inside the mirror was no longer looking at me. Its attention was all for the peacock. And as I watched, those iridescent eyes backed away from the mirror, fading to crimson before vanishing altogether.

  “It looked like a human skull, but its eyes turned into that rainbow muck like it was Eldritch.”

  Foster took the mirror and set it down. Calbach closed the coffin without being asked.