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“But that’s ridiculous. She has no reason to worry,” Delilah said, starting to clear the table.
“I’ll get the dishes, girl. You have enough to think about tonight,” Iris said, taking the plates from her.
Vanzir leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “No, it’s not ridiculous. Trillian’s right. The more authority a leader has, the more fearful they grow of losing it. Don’t forget the amount of power it took to rip apart the worlds. The Fae lords behind the decision sure as hell aren’t going to want to face the newly empowered Titania and Aeval, and they certainly won’t be welcoming Morgaine to the mix. Remember, they dethroned them, stripped Titania of her sanity, and turned Aeval into a popsicle. That sort of diplomacy isn’t easily forgotten. Suppose they’re afraid that Titania and Aeval want to repay them in kind?”
The Great Divide had been a chaotic, bloody, world-shaking event. While little was remembered among humankind—what records there were had been destroyed—Fae on both sides remembered it clearly, though from different vantage points. Aeval, Titania, and Morgaine held little love for anyone who’d had a hand in the eons-old war.
“Enough talk,” Menolly said. “We don’t even know where the next seal is, and there’s nothing we can do tonight about this new change in plans. Meanwhile, we have a cemetery full of undead waiting for us.”
I reluctantly pushed myself out of my chair. The rain was pounding harder than ever and it was going to be cold, muddy, and nasty out there. “Why don’t you go talk to Wilbur while we gather up the supplies?”
“Good girl. I’ll be back with our boy in ten minutes.” Menolly slipped out the door as the rest of us set about gathering everything we needed for the fight. Or at least, everything we could think of.
Morio stuffed Rodney in his bag and I grimaced. “No. Please tell me you’re not bringing him.”
“Sorry, babe, but we might be able to use him.” He gave me a quick kiss. “Cheer up. If he gets too obnoxious we can feed him to the zombies.”
I rolled my eyes. I might be a priestess now—something I’d wanted all my life—but this was turning out to be the worst September I’d had in ages. And listening to Rodney’s crass standup routine was the last thing I needed tonight.
Wilbur, who looked like a defunct member of ZZ Top and smelled like he hadn’t touched a bar of soap in a month, agreed to come along. When I found out, I suggested taking two cars.
“There are too many of us to comfortably fit in even Chase’s behemoth SUV.” At least, that was my story and I was sticking to it. I made sure that Wilbur traveled with Chase, not in our car.
By the time we pulled in to the Wedgewood Cemetery, it was pitch-dark. While the Moon was just past full, the clouds were so thick they obscured even the faintest glimmer of her light.
The rain was blowing horizontally, whipped sideways by the wind. I pulled my capelet close around my shoulders. The unicorn horn was home, in a safe place along with the cloak. Sacrificing the Black Unicorn had drained it of every single ounce of energy and I wouldn’t be able to charge it until the next new Moon. I didn’t like separating the cloak from the horn. It just seemed wrong.
Delilah and Menolly flanked me as we headed in. Wilbur followed, Trillian and Morio on either side. Rozurial, Vanzir, and Chase brought up the rear. As we approached the gates of the lighted graveyard, the first thing I noticed was that a number of the lovely old lamppost lights had been broken. It seemed the living dead weren’t too keen on sunshine or lamplight.
“Can you feel it?” Menolly asked, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Feel what?”
“The dead are walking.” Her eyes narrowed and turned bloodred, and when she smiled, her fangs were showing. “Nasty dead. Not vampires, not the dead who think, but zombies and other creatures that exist to kill and devour. I can sense them, like a hive of droning insects with no thoughts of their own.”
I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes, reaching out. And there they were, just as she’d said. A mass of squirming maggots, a swarm of ants, hungry—looking to feed. And there was something else. Something behind the energy, almost like . . . Shivering, I opened my eyes.
“They’re in the older part of the cemetery. But behind them, the magical signature of the energy—it’s demonic. I sense Demonkin at work here.”
Wilbur spoke up. “I can sense the dead underground, too, the ones who haven’t been touched by the magic yet. If we don’t do something, they will rise. Someone cast one bitch of a spell here, and it’s not just aimed toward specific graves. Whoever’s behind this is using a conduit of energy—like feeding medicine into an IV drip.”
“Shit,” Delilah said. “The ley line.”
I stared at her. “Stacia Bonecrusher. Ten to one it’s her. She’s feeding her magic directly into the ley line that runs through the Wedgewood Cemetery. The line connects to Harold Young’s house—or the remains of it and that’s where we found the goshanti devil. The line also connects to the Wayfarer where the portal is, and to two rogue portals. And if she’s messing around with the ley line, then—”
“She might be able to fuck up the portals.” Delilah paled. “What if she’s got the third spirit seal? The one Karvanak stole from us? Wouldn’t it increase her powers and let her make a shambles of things?”
“Holy crap!” Menolly whirled around. “Could she be trying to use the ley line to rip them open or twist them so that they open into the Sub Realms?”
“Who knows what the hell she’s up to?” I stared bitterly at the headstones before heading for the older part of the cemetery. The others followed. “We have to disrupt this Halloween party of hers and then figure out how to put the kibosh on her ability to access the ley line. Right now, it seems like she’s experimenting to see just what she can do, but it won’t be long before she branches out.”
As we came to the iron gates cordoning off the oldest graves, Menolly stepped forward to open them. Iron still bothered her, but she would heal from it a lot faster than Delilah and I could hope to. She swung the gates open, her hands singeing from the burn of the metal, and we darted through.
And there we found them—the living dead. There were at least twenty of them, wandering around like the random monsters on a Diablo game. Joy of joys. Most were bone-walkers—bare skeletons. A few were mummified bodies. But all of them were searching for victims. Baleful lights filled their eye sockets. As I gazed at them, I felt unaccountably sad. They’d led their lives; they went to their ancestors; they should be left to rest.
I suddenly understood Chase’s repulsion to my suggestion. But I also knew that the souls that had inhabited these bodies weren’t here. We were fighting shells. Dangerous shells, yes. But nonetheless, they were mere husks. It would have been worse if they’d been possessed while still alive and in their bodies.
Wilbur and Morio stepped to the front, and Morio took my hand. Delilah and Menolly edged back to let us have room for our spell casting.
