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“What the hell did you do to her?” Delilah was screaming at Ivana.
“Shush the tongue, Puss in Boots. I did nothing to Witch Girl.”
Ivana’s voice rolled along the ground with a wave of command. She straightened to full height and—still a vision of dizzying beauty—her voice ricocheted through the yard, knocking over the tombstones that were still standing. A high-pitched keen shot straight through my head, stabbing my third eye as a migraine slammed me. Moaning, I slumped against Smoky, trying to hide my eyes from the light.
Ivana began to laugh. “The Witch cannot handle the pitch of my true voice? Then I will play nice for now.” Within seconds, Ivana the bag lady was back, and her voice was once again the sarcastic tone that grated but did not send me screaming for a quiet, dark place. The headache began to ease up immediately.
More confused than ever, I persuaded Smoky to set me down, still reeling from everything that had gone on. A little unsteady on my feet, I crossed to one of the fallen tombstones and gingerly sat down.
“So, I didn’t actually go anywhere? I didn’t disappear?”
Smoky shook his head. “No. We couldn’t drag you off the tombstone. It was as if it had a suction grip on you and you were gasping for air, like you were being suffocated.”
I cast a long look at the grave marker, but it looked perfectly normal. I didn’t really want to touch it again but leaned over and placed a light finger on it. Cold stone. Nothing more.
“Fuck me hard.”
“Gladly,” Morio spit out before he could stop himself. I gave him a faint grin as he backpedaled. “Sorry. Just habit. What happened?”
I glanced up at Ivana. Not sure how much she knew, I was hesitant to talk in front of her. I didn’t trust her, even though she had come to our aid several times. Morio caught my hesitation and gave me a tight shake of the head.
“We should go.” He reached down to give me a hand.
“But what of my ghosties? Who stole them?” Ivana’s crass voice was grating, but after hearing her true voice, it didn’t bother me nearly as much. She was far more powerful than even I’d thought, and this was yet another issue we had to rethink.
“They’re gone. I’m not sure what took them, but whatever it is, you’re right. It’s big and it’s bad. I suggest you refrain from ghost hunting for a while. Whatever it is might come back and this time might just go after you, too.”
The thought of telling her who did it, of seeing her go up against Gulakah, offered an intriguing set of possibilities, but then I decided that might not be such a good idea.
She frowned. “As you will, Witch Girl. But suspicion abounds…you are not telling the Maiden of Karask all you know, but soon enough, all will reveal. No doubt about that. No doubt at all. Now go, unless you should wish to come into my house for tea. I’ve oinker left and it heats to a nice broth.” She touched her nose, like Santa Claus, and I shivered. Not quite so jolly and safe, although I’d met the real Santa—the Holly King—and he was far from the happy fat man portrayed in the movies.
Ivana escorted us back to the portal, and we hurried through. We were all eager to get away from her, even Shade, who seemed the least bothered. As soon as we were back in Tangleroot Park, I let down my guard and collapsed on the sidewalk, thoroughly worn out.
Delilah knelt by my side. “Camille, what the hell happened? Do you need to see Sharah or Mallen?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so, but I’m so exhausted. And confused.” Smoky gathered me in his arms, this time ignoring my requests to be set down. His long legs made quick work of the path, and he wouldn’t let anybody question me till we reached the car. Delilah took my keys—she didn’t trust me to drive—and we settled in, with me sitting in the back between Smoky and Morio, and Shade up front with her.
“Okay, now…in the safety of the car, tell us, what the fuck happened to you?” Morio was looking decidedly bent out of shape. I knew him well enough to know that he wanted to go attack whatever had hurt me, but I also knew there was no way he could beat up on the enemy I’d faced.
But had I really faced Gulakah? Was it truly him? Or had something different just put the idea in my head? Shaking off the doubt, I began to tell them what had happened from the moment I touched the tombstone. As I finished, they sat there, staring at me, mouths agape.
“So, I want to know—where the hell was I? No ocean on this planet, that’s for sure.”
Morio shook his head. “I don’t know, but I think you really did land somewhere near Gulakah. You can’t fake the power of his fear.”
Shade cleared his throat. “I don’t think you were in an actual ocean.”
I frowned. “That seems obvious, since I’m not covered with gray ooze. But I was in some body of…liquid, at least my spirit was.”
“No,” he interrupted. “I don’t think you were. I think…what I think is almost too frightening to suggest.” He stared at me, unblinking, those gorgeous eyes stark against the warm toffee of his skin.
“Just say it, dude.” I was tired of people circumnavigating things.
“I think…I think you projected yourself inside Gulakah’s mind.”
His words hit me like a brick wall, tumbling down.
“Fuck. No.” Reeling at the thought, I shook my head. I couldn’t have landed in the mind of a god—especially Gulakah. “No, no…no…”
