Feral Night, page 3
The woman reached out a hand. “Help—help me—”
Lukie ran to the other woman’s side. “You need an ambulance.” She attempted to assist the woman to her feet, only to find her fingers slipping through the other’s insubstantial form. “You’re a ghost!”
A sliver of discordant violin music echoed in Lukie’s mind. Hunger gnawed at her undead belly, and she stiffened, frightened. After she’d consumed the Baron, it had been easy to forget she ate souls to survive. She needed to feed again. Soon. On what? No, not going to eat this woman. She’d find something later.
“A ghost? No.” The wounded figure struggled upright. “That cannot be… I must—Wait. What should I do?” She buried her face in her hands.
“What’s your name?” Lukie asked, studying the other woman. She looked about thirty, with stark black hair and a tawny complexion. The cut of her vibrant red gown suggested a different era. It flowed from a tight bodice to billow around her ankles. Lukie dug through her knowledge of movies, recalling watching romances with Karra. She must be from hundreds of years ago. When everyone went to balls, had horses and carriages, and the men wore top hats and ascots.
The ghostly woman regarded her with startled green eyes. “I—I do not know.”
“You came from a ghost realm.” Lukie pointed to where the rent to Tenebra had been. “With a red sky and a black castle. My Dad’s there. Please, you need to take me there so I can rescue him.”
“What is this you speak of?” The woman stared in confusion.
Lukie made a fist. Amnesia. Great. But common amongst the undead who’d been fed upon by something powerful, like a revenant. “Can I see if you’re alright?”
“I suppose?” The woman blinked as Lukie reached forth, fingers passing through her insubstantial form. A single violin played a slow, mournful tune. More violins or a full orchestra were needed to complete the thin melody. The woman’s essence felt intact—her soul hadn’t been consumed. And while her memories were absent, something remained within the woman’s mind.
“I think you can remember,” Lukie said. “Maybe your amnesia is temporary, because of the shock of leaving Tenebra.”
“Yes, I felt your touch,” the ghost murmured.
Wait, she sensed me reading her? None of Baron’s victims, half-chewed souls imprisoned in Tenebra, had been aware of her tasting their spiritual essence, but then again, their capacity for reason had diminished each time the Baron fed from them.
“Are you sure that you have no idea about that place?” Lukie prodded.
The ghost shook her head and squinted upwards. “No. Save that I had some terrible purpose about me, and yet while I sense the urgency of that task, its true nature is gone from my mind.” Her insubstantial hands attempted to grip Lukie’s face and bring her close. The ghost studied the revenant with an intense, hungry expression. “Do I know you, child?”
“No. I’ve never seen you before.”
The woman pulled away and regarded the stars and ring above. “I thought… No. There is only silence within me.”
“Let’s figure this out,” Lukie paced, frustration mounting. To get to any place in Tenebra that wasn’t the endless void required memories and personal connections. Lukie had only been able to sneak into the Baron’s realm as they’d both been to the same school. If this ghost couldn’t remember the Red Sky Realm, she couldn’t escort Lukie there to rescue Dad.
“What do you know?” Lukie tried.
“Darkness,” the ghost whispered. “And now, I am here. What is going on?” She brushed her dark hair back, revealing pointed ears.
Another blended human/elf. The first other person like her that Lukie had met, and like her, the woman had human eyes, rather than the whiteless elven eyes Mama had. Perhaps blended elves didn’t inherit that feature.
“And yet, it is pleasurable to stand here beneath the stars,” the woman mused, staring upwards.
Lukie cleared her throat. “Do you mind if I call you Anneth? You resemble her, and she was an amazing musician.”
Anneth shrugged. “When you say that name, I know it is not mine. Still, it will do.”
“I’m a detective.” Lukie grinned. That sounds pretentious. “I can help you. I handle cases like this all the time.” Well, once. I had to find my killer.
The bloody cut across the woman’s face gleamed under the bright light of Marmaruk, the thin planetary ring visible in the star-strewn summer sky.
“I—I would be most grateful for your assistance,” Anneth whispered, her eyes dark pools under the ringlight. Her intensity reminded Lukie of her lost girlfriend. Perhaps if Karra had lived to her thirties, she might be like this mysterious woman. Lukie stretched forth her hand, and Anneth touched it with her insubstantial fingers.
The discordant gong chimed again. Lukie and the ghost staggered away from each other, and for a brief second, wails and screams filled Lukie’s mind.
Chapter 4
The Columbarium
Lukie reeled, arms flaring to her sides. “What’s going on?”
“There is something between us now. A contract of great power,” Anneth whispered. “You are remarkable.”
Lukie shook her head. I need to stop doing stuff that creates a supernatural effect: cursing Dad, making agreements with ghosts! What will happen if I can’t discover who Anneth is? No, I have to, it’s the only way to get into that place to find Dad.
The ghost stood in front of her, eager and expectant.
Crap, she believes I can do this. Lukie poked at her vestige, but her patron felt distant.
She’s taking a ghost lord nap. Great, it would be nice to have her help with this. Now what? And where’s that second thing that crossed over?
Lukie studied the endless rows of tombstones inscribed with names, dates, and epitaphs. No sign of the other Red Sky realm visitor, but she had an idea…
“Anneth, do you think you might be buried here?” There had to be some connection between the ghost, the Red Sky realm, and the graveyard.
Anneth shook her head. “How should I know where my bones lie?”
Lukie dug her hands into her pockets, her fingers curling around her car keys and cassette. These were her cache artifacts—things that had returned with her from the dead—that symbolized her pact and existence as a revenant. They helped her channel power but also made her vulnerable. Cage had claimed a third object—a family photograph—to restrict her ability to consume souls. She had a special link to the items in her possession—she could find them with her eyes closed. Although once Cage possessed her photo, her connection with it had died.
Lukie wasn’t sure if ghosts had artifacts. Did they act like they did in movies: walking through walls, making small objects move, possessing people? And what would happen at sunrise when the link between Tenebra and the ordinary world weakened? Would Anneth stay intact?
Oh, let’s try this anyway.
“Concentrate,” Lukie suggested, poking at the car keys in her pocket. “Reach out. Can you sense anything nearby? Something that feels personal?”
Anneth closed her eyes and bowed her head. Ethereal blood dripped from the cut on her face and vanished when it hit the ground. The ghost reached outward and pointed into the distance. “There.” Even though she was insubstantial and could theoretically pass through objects, Anneth strode along the path, past tumbled moss-covered headstones and guardian statues of angels, saints, and beasts that allegedly protected the soul.
Success! Lukie stuck her hands in her jacket pockets, trailing after her first client. Above, a statue of Saint Elystane the Indomitable regarded her with a serene gaze, holding a bell aloft in one hand. Lukie hadn’t been religious in life, apart from attending the usual ceremonies throughout the year—Winterdark, the Feast of Bounty. Death had upturned everything the church had taught her about the afterlife. The teachings had never mentioned Tenebra, the sea of hungry shades, or how hard it was to get to the Lanes of the Dead beyond the Underworld, where souls journeyed onto their next destination.
Saint Elystane was one of the Heroes of the Hawkbow. In the legends, she and her colleagues had stopped the Dark Emperor by ending the Age of Magic with ‘the Rending,’ the last terrible, cataclysmic spell cast in the world. Now, most people believed magic never existed at all, and that all the fantastic stories of the past were folklore. Elystane had been the dull priestess of the Light, big on negotiation and making peace with their enemies. Saint Zilverel had been way cooler—the elven bard, and tall-tale teller who’d been able to call upon the songs of stones to start avalanches, or the language of the ocean to create tidal waves.
Lukie eyed the saint. She’d found Elystane boring while alive. In death, Lukie appreciated the woman’s presence more. She didn’t want to ask the universe for anything, not after the last time. You never knew what was listening. But if Elystane—and no one else—is hearing this, send me vibes and make sure Dad’s safe.
The ghost continued along the path away from the statue and Lukie hurried after her. She watched for the second entity that had crossed over from the Red Sky Realm. No other cries disturbed the night. And when she concentrated on the flows of spectral energy in the area, no other undead trembled against that cold web. Still, she remained on alert.
“Here.” Anneth stopped outside a large brick building on the outskirts of the cemetery, one of many such edifices clustering around the edges. Built from simple gray stone, the structure was featureless apart from a few carvings and symbols to invoke the Light. “I feel a connection to something within.”
Lukie pushed the heavy wooden door open.
She’d been to a columbarium before, to visit her paternal grandparents’ remains. Regular niches in the walls had held individual urns behind engraved metal plaques. While the interior of this building was likewise full of urns, it resembled a junk shop. Vessels of different sizes and shapes, made from terracotta, white porcelain, verdigrised copper, or polished wood, pressed against each other on stone shelves. A fine wire mesh protected the open spaces from vandals.
At the back of the columbarium, Anneth reached through the wires with her intangible hand, touching a small ceramic pot. “This must be it. Is that all that remains of me?” A faint echo of her sorrowful violin soul music wafted through the air.
Lukie studied the urn, testing the protective barrier. A good tug would—
Anneth recoiled. “Behind you!”
Claws raked Lukie’s back and pushed her to the ground.
A large, gray-skinned creature shoved past. It resembled the beast that attacked Dad, only this one was larger and leaner, like a starved greyhound. Thick scars and cuts mottled its rubbery hide. A huge iron muzzle, stained with rust and blood, covered its jaw and forehead, while a heavy dog chain encircled its neck. A palpable sense of cold, spectral energy emanated from it—another undead. Corporeal, the way Lukie was. Its similarity to a hominin twisted and pulled into a canine form increased as it stood on its hind legs and tore the protective mesh apart with clawed fingers.
The other thing that crossed over! It’s one of those dog beasts. Why didn’t I sense it earlier? Can it mask its spectral energy? Great. Lukie forced herself upright as the monster seized Anneth’s urn.
The ghost screamed as the beast dropped to all fours and bounded away.
“Stop that!” Lukie ran after the monster, throwing herself at it, and grabbing its rear leg.
The creature snarled, turned, and clawed Lukie’s shoulder, tearing a chunk of her soul and siphoning a memory she would never recall again. Dark mist boiled from the wound. Malicious intelligence gleamed within its blank, milky blue eyes.
Sensing she’d lost part of herself, Lukie gripped the dog thing by the throat and smashed it against the opposite wall. Wire mesh bent and urns shattered under the canine thing’s bulk. Then she pile-drove it into the floor, cracking its skull. Black vapor oozed from its skin. Despite her assault, it kept the urn hugged tight against its chest with one clawed hand.
Lukie’s stomach churned. This thing was an undead monster, and she could feed on it. She had consumed nothing since the Baron.
Maintaining contact, she drew on the creature’s essence.
She’d spent twenty years in the Underworld, running from more powerful shades and devouring weaker ones. And now she was a revenant, at the top of Tenebra’s food chain. She ripped into the monster’s soul, chewing its sound—
—chaotic music, ringing gongs, and wailing screams overpowered her with discord. In the accompanying vision, a sea of gray-skinned beasts clawed each other apart under a bleeding sky, while dark shadows melted into midnight around them—
Lukie growled, strangling the beast, ready to consume its soul. This was the law of Tenebra: feed or be fed upon. Already her undead stomach hungered for the rich taste of another’s essence—
A few moments passed before she realized nothing was happening. Something prevented her from sucking the dog thing dry. Like a muzzle tight around her own jaws.
Her food was right there, and yet she could not drain its soul.
When Lukie had first returned as a revenant, she’d been ravenous and nearly devoured the soul of her old high school friend Terek while trying to question him about her murder. Luckily for him, Cage the preserver had been stalking Lukie and intervened. He’d easily defeated her, and worse, taken one of Lukie’s cache objects—her photograph—and bound her with a spell. While he held the photograph, she couldn’t consume souls without his direct permission.
Tamlyn had gone to speak with Cage, to get her photo back. He’d told her that while Cage had left town—to go wherever the ‘winds of fate’ would blow him next—everything was sorted. She’d be able to feed again, no problems. He’d been vague about the photo itself, but he’d been so distant every time Lukie tried to ask him something personal, she’d given him space to come around. She was trying to be kinder; she’d been a selfish, demanding princess to her friends and bandmates when alive.
Yet she’d made a mistake by not pushing Tamlyn to explain. She’d worried endlessly about how to survive without hurting innocent people.
Except when confronted by a shitty monster the universe wouldn’t miss, she couldn’t eat.
Tamlyn had lied. Her so-called friend had deceived her.
The creature snarled, slamming its muzzled head against her throat. The undead dog’s silver chain jangled as it raked her flesh. Dark smoke boiled away from her torn skin.
If the dog thing destroyed her form, she’d sink into Tenebra. It had taken twenty years for her to escape last time. She couldn’t risk any further delays, especially given the situation with Dad.
She freed her right arm and whipped her fingers around. They pierced the creature’s skull like daggers. It thrashed wildly. Lukie tore the urn from its spasming grip and retreated.
Howling and with smoke pouring from its punctured head, the dog-thing fled into the dark with uncanny speed. Lukie scanned the horizon. The creature had vanished, and she couldn’t sense it anywhere.
Lukie held the clay pot tight. Hunger jabbed her gut as her damaged flesh knitted together.
“Anneth?” she called. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Here!” The ghostly woman stepped forward from the columbarium. “What was that fell beast? Why did it seek my ashes?”
“You tell me. It came from the same place you did.”
“I cannot recall anything,” Anneth lamented.
Lukie examined the clay vessel. Roughly made with a ceramic lid, it had no markings to suggest who created it. Potters put their mark on the bottom of their work. Why not this urn? Didn’t anyone want it?
“What will happen to me if that breaks?” Anneth asked, her ghostly fingers falling through the urn and Lukie’s own hands. Violin music in short staccato bursts struck Lukie’s mind. Anneth sounded delicious.
Lukie restrained herself. Don’t eat the ghost you agreed to help! Her revenant instincts were keen, even though she remained incapable of consuming souls.
“I’ll protect it.” Lukie gripped her prize.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Frustration poured through her. Tamlyn. Time to get stuck into him for lying, for pretending that everything was okay when it wasn’t, and—
“Where are you?” Tamlyn snapped. In the background, tires crunched and horns honked. “Your father’s in hospital. In critical care.”
She paused, unable to tell Tam that it was her fault.
“I’ll pick you up,” Tamlyn went on. “What’s your address?”
Did she want to go with him? Surely, she needed to work with Anneth, resolve the ghost’s amnesia, and rescue Dad’s soul. But even finding her urn didn’t help. And what if that beast comes again? I’ll need to feed before fighting it off once more.
Which meant dealing with Tamlyn. “I’ll check.” She ran from the columbarium through the graveyard, searching for a landmark.
Anneth appeared beside her, effortlessly pacing with Lukie’s stride. “Where are we going?”
“To the hospital—”
“Who are you talking to?” Tamlyn asked.
“I met a ghost—”
“Who are you talking to?” Anneth demanded.
“My friend—”
Arrgh, too many people!
“Lukie? The address?” Tamlyn probed again.
Lukie ran past rows of lichen-spotted tombstones and rearing statues of lions, griffins, and dragons. A cobbled pathway wended its way through leafy willows to the graveyard entrance. She stepped outside, peering at the worn name carved into the archway. “Stonefell Cemetery.”
“I don’t know where that is. Are you near Zeran’s house?”
“Yes,” Lukie said between clenched teeth. Admitting that she’d broken her promise not to contact Dad until he’d sorted everything. Still, he’d lied to her first.
