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“Good night. Sleep well.”
The light in the mirror faded back into a milky swirl of fog, and I covered it with the black velvet cloth. I picked up the voice recorder and, carrying it with me, opened the doors leading out on the balcony. My floor was the only one that had a balcony, and we often gathered here when the weather was good, to watch the stars and talk.
But tonight the rain was coming down in torrential sheets, and I stayed out for only a moment before darting back inside and locking the doors. I quietly exited the study and, hearing Delilah and Shade on the steps, hurried to the landing to stop them before they rounded the curve leading up to the third floor.
“Father called. Trenyth was there. We have news of the war.” I paused, then went on. “And Leethe, she had an accident. She died.”
Delilah uttered a little “Oh,” but I knew that Leethe’s death would hit me the hardest. I’d been the one to turn to her time and again, just as my sisters had turned to me.
“I’ll take this and transcribe it before bed.” Delilah took the voice recorder from me. “You go rest. I know…you go rest.” She leaned down and kissed my forehead, then motioned for Shade to follow her up. I heard her explaining to him who Leethe had been as they vanished around the corner.
Turning back to my rooms, I opened the bedroom door. Smoky was reading—some suspense thriller by J. A. Jance. Trillian was doing sit-ups on the floor, and Morio was sprawled across the bed, one arm over his face.
Grateful for their presence, grateful they were in my life and that I didn’t have to face the night alone, I shut the door behind me and shut out the world.
Chapter 16
The winds were playing around me, and I opened my eyes. The ocean next to me sloshed against the beach, the gray sheen meeting the silver of the skies, to blend into one long, merged watercolor landscape.
Fuck. Not again. The Ocean of Anger…
I was barefoot, struggling through the sand that shifted with every step. There was something I needed to know. I also realized that I wasn’t inside Gulakah’s mind, because the overwhelming fear wasn’t present.
Stopping, I turned to the choppy water, shading my eyes as I gazed over it. There were waves, cresting against the shore—breakers coming in.
I loved the water, loved the restless energy of the ocean and the depths of emotion buried beneath it. But the ocean was as joyous as she was volatile, as generous as she was demanding.
Here, this particular ocean was filled only with anger. There was no joy, no frolicking dream—only a brooding nightmare. Here, spirits didn’t haunt the waves on ghost ships—they were the waves.
And then I saw it—saw something I recognized. Gulakah, rising from the depths. As I watched, he began spitting something into the sea, spraying it like a battery of bullets. Orbs…silvery orbs. Silver orbs—oh hell, this was where the spirit demons came from.
Created from the very depths of the primal pool, the eggs—and the spirit demons—must be a manifestation of all the resentful ghosts and spirits that inhabited the realm. Somehow, the imbalance must have given them the power to manifest. And Gulakah was able to use that power, drawing on the vast sea of fury and wrath to which he was tied.
I squatted down, watching. No wonder the spirit demons and bhouts fed on magic—they thrived on it here.
Here, it was easy to see he was a god. He was huge—towering over the landscape, with his olive green reptilian scales and serpent-infested hair. His roving eyeballs, now fully in their sockets, were a dull black, and his face, a snout, much like that of an alligator’s. Jagged, razor-sharp teeth filled his mouth as he opened it and let out a long shout that reverberated through water and shore.
Petrified, but reminding myself that I was not actually in his mind, I watched, looking for some clue that might help us. And then I saw it. A thick, pulsating, silver cord ran from the back of his tailbone directly into the ocean—and I knew that was how he was getting his power. And if we could disconnect that cord…
“You understand now.” Pentangle stood beside me. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the Lord of Ghosts.
“We have to cut the cord that binds him here. But will that help us destroy him?” I rose to my feet, standing beside her, basking in the crackling energy that flowed off her.
She nodded, her headdress perfectly aligned, though it looked far too heavy to wear comfortably. “A god without his energy source is a wounded god. Remember, his power does not come from the Subterranean Realms. And even the gods can die. But you must attack him from his own realm. The realm of the dead.”
“And how do we do that? Even if we can find him, how do we get him over to the Netherworld? We aren’t strong enough.”
“The balance must be restored.” She handed me a small silver orb. “This…will help you when the time comes. You cannot use it except for the task I appoint to you. This will gate you and Gulakah into the Netherworld. But you must touch him.”
Before I could say another word, she vanished, and I looked back at the orb in my hand. It began to melt and then absorb into my palm, and I felt a rush of energy as the charm became part of me.
A loud roar caught my attention, and I looked back out over the ocean. Gulakah was wading into the ocean. He dipped his snout in the water and caught up a spirit orb, tilting his head back. And even though I knew I wasn’t really in his mind, I shivered as he began to crack open the egg and devour the demons inside, and grow stronger.
I struggled to wake, blurry from the dream. Quickly, I sat up and looked at my hand. Sure enough, a shimmer of silver flickered from a strange rune imprinted on my palm. It had been real. Pentangle had given me a gate spell.
A glance at the clock told me that I’d slept in. When I came downstairs, it was almost noon. Tomorrow was Beltane. Tomorrow night, Morio and I were due out at Talamh Lonrach Oll for the full moon.
I hurried through the kitchen and out back. The rain had departed and the day was actually rather warm—the temperature was nearly sixty. I wandered over beyond the trailer, stopped short by the sight of Morio, Smoky, Rozurial, and Trillian as they worked on the house, with shirtless, glistening backs as they hammered and nailed and built a home for our Iris.
