Ghost Light (19 page)

“Yes, but only in exchange for useful information about my father,” I said.

“Your offer is…unprecedented,” he said.  Torn made a strange purring sound low in his throat and licked his lips.  “I accept.”

I felt the pavement shift beneath my feet as the bargain settled on my soul, but for once, there was no pain or nausea.  I took that as a positive sign.

“What do you know of my father’s whereabouts?” I asked.

“Liam, as I knew your father, left Harborsmouth after that foul demon bargain,” he said.  “He is cursed to walk the world carrying a lantern filled with an ember from the fiery pits of Hell.  Will-o’-the-Wisp has become Jack o’ Lantern.  He carries the lantern until the curse can be broken or he hands the lantern over to another.”

“But if he passes the lantern on to someone else, he’s effectively cursing them, right?” I asked.

“Yes and the lantern must be taken up willingly,” he said.  “The role of Jack o’ Lantern cannot be forced, though trickery and manipulation are permitted.”

“So my father is trying to find a way to break the curse without damning someone else,” I said.  “Is that why he left Harborsmouth?”

“He left because the lantern is dangerous,” he said.  “Your father realized that the lantern he carried was a conduit to Hell.  Liam did not want to harm you or your mortal mother with its presence.”

My father didn’t abandon us—he was trying to protect me and my mother.  My heart swelled.

“Do you know where he is now?” I asked.

I bit my lip. 
Please, please, please.
  Torn slouched and spread his hands wide.

“I am sorry, princess,” he said.  “The last known location for Jack o’ Lantern was Fukushima, just before the tsunami and nuclear disaster. Many went missing that day, both fae and humans, and I lost track of your father.  Locating him again will be difficult, but I will have my people look into it.”

The Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster was known the world over.  Radioactive materials had been released due to a meltdown at a nuclear power plant in Fukushima Japan.  The nuclear disaster followed the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami which caused over 15,000 casualties.

Had my father been injured during the disaster?  Was he even still alive?  I shook off the heavy cloak of doubt before it had a chance to suffocate me.

My mouth went dry as another thought wormed its way into my head.  Had my father’s presence had something to do with the Fukushima disaster?  If so, the lantern he carried was more dangerous than I thought.

I sighed.  I needed to talk to my father, but there was nothing to do now but wait for a lead to his whereabouts.  I had no doubt that if anyone could discover where my father was hiding, it was the cat sidhe.  For now, my fate, and my father’s, were in Torn’s hands.

The cat sidhe leaned forward, tilted his head, and studied me with open curiosity.

“And the second reason you sought me out?” he asked.

Oh, right.  I’d wasted enough time on my own personal agenda.  It was time to learn what I could about the walking dead.  If I could trace the reports of strange lights and other supernatural activity to a specific burial ground, then we’d be one step away from rescuing those kids.

 “You said that you’d heard rumors of ghost sightings in Harborsmouth,” I said.  “I think these sightings might be linked to a case I’m working involving missing fae kids.”

Torn hissed and his eyes flashed bright yellow in the dark alley, but his anger wasn’t aimed at me.  Faerie children are rare and precious to the fae.  I gave the guy a moment to collect himself.

“Our children are missing?” he asked.

 “Yes, over thirty kids that I know of so far,” I said.  “The calls started pouring in this morning.  We have some leads, but we’re short on time.”

“Tell me what you know,” he said.

I gave him the Cliffs Notes version of the case.  When I mentioned the rats, every cat in the alley showed their teeth and claws.  Apparently cat sidhe and their feline followers aren’t besties with the rats of the city.  Since most of the rats I’d seen in my vision were the size of cats, I assumed they made a dangerous foe, especially in large numbers.  But if I were a betting girl, I’d put my money on the cat sidhe in a fight.

“We know that Melusine is capable of murdering children,” I said.  Ceff blanched, but I continued on like I hadn’t noticed.  It was better to get this over with fast, like ripping off a bandage.  “We also know that The Piper will need to begin the Danse Macabre in order to feed off the children’s life energy and to fulfill his bargain by providing Hell with their souls.”

“You’re running out of time,” Torn said.

“Yes,” I said.  I swallowed hard.  I just hoped we weren’t already too late.  “I know who the key players are, and what they want, but what I haven’t been able to figure out is where they are hiding.  I just know that it’s likely that they are near a burial ground.”

“And you think the ghost sightings might lead you to them,” he said.  I nodded.  “Do you have a map of the city?”

“Yes,” I said.  I pulled up the map display on my phone.

Torn stared at the map, brow furrowed.

“Here and here,” he said, pointing.  “Most of the ghost sightings are reported near these two cemeteries—Ocean Overlook and Far Point.”

They were the two oldest and largest cemeteries in Harborsmouth, each encompassing acres of city land.  It was a lot of ground to cover, but at least Torn had helped us narrow the search to two possible locations.

“Thank you,” I said.

“If you wish to thank me,” he said.  “Bring back our children.”

I nodded and turned toward the wall where we’d entered from Club Nexus, but the door was gone.  I turned to Jinx who shrugged.

“Ahem,” Torn said.  Torn stretched catlike and slid down from the table, his boots silent as they hit pavement.  “This way.”

Torn sauntered with feline grace toward the end of the alley.  The sea of cats parted as we followed their leader.  I wondered where they had hidden the exit.  Was the door somewhere in the brick wall?  The alley mouth?  I just hoped it wasn’t inside the dumpster.

I walked up behind Torn and he stepped aside with a flourish.  We were standing facing a dark street that looked entirely real.  I rubbed my forehead trying to make sense of what Torn was showing me.  The energy jolt I’d received when entering the club was wearing off and I was too tired for games.

Torn pointed to my left and I gasped.  The entrance to Club Nexus, still guarded by the ogre bouncer, stood a few doors down from the alley.  How could that be possible?

“We aren’t inside the club?” I asked.

Torn looked down at our feet standing inside the alley and lifted his eyebrows.

“Now that is a matter of opinion,” he said.  I stepped out onto the sidewalk, testing a theory, and turned back to Torn.  He nodded and smiled.  “You are most definitely outside the club.”

I looked up at the night sky, a grin pulling at my lips.  We’d found the answers we were looking for and saved valuable time.  The strange geography of the cat sidhe’s pocket of Club Nexus meant we didn’t have to go back through the club to find an exit—and I wouldn’t have to face the stares of snoopy curiosity seekers.

I cracked my neck and lowered my head to look at my companions.  Jinx slid her crossbow into her bag and Ceff nodded.

It was time to go find the kids.

Chapter 21

W
e crouched beside a stone wall, the gates of Ocean Overlook a mass of wrought iron protruding from the gray swirls of low fog.  During our walk to the cemetery the fog had rolled in off the ocean to pool at our feet.  I pulled myself upright and peered over the rock wall.  Iron fencing was set deep into the stone, with sharp points aimed at the sky.

We wouldn’t be climbing over the wall.  Ceff was already sweating profusely from the close proximity to so much iron.  No, we needed to make a run for the front gates—if I could get them open without being seen.

I scanned the cemetery grounds for a caretaker or security guards.  Fog flowed between headstones like specters, but I saw no sign of humans.  No telltale flashlight beams cut the night.  If there was a guard on duty, he wasn’t nearby.

“Looks clear,” I said.  “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait,” Jinx said.  She rummaged in her bag and pulled out two small plastic containers, each the size of a contact lens case.  “I almost forgot.  Take these.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“Ear plugs,” she said.  “I use them when I’m out clubbing.  They should muffle the flute’s music.”

I smiled and tucked the earplugs into a jacket pocket.  Jinx was brilliant.  Ceff moved more slowly to take his and I was reminded that we were in a hurry.  He couldn’t take much more iron exposure.

“Thanks,” I said.  “I’ll have the gate open in just a sec.”

Ceff’s skin was pale, but he nodded and pulled the trident from his pant leg.  He kept the handle collapsed and held it in a reverse grip, the tines of the weapon pointed toward his torso and slanted against his forearm.  Jinx readied a bolt, but kept her crossbow between her body and the road.  At a passing glance they looked unarmed.

The entrance to the cemetery was on a dead-end street and we hadn’t seen any traffic so far, but it was best not to take chances.  We couldn’t risk anyone seeing our weapons.  It wouldn’t do the children any good if we ended up spending the night at the police station.

I crept forward, shoulders tight.  Ever since we’d left Sir Torn and the club behind, I’d had the itchy feeling that someone was watching me.  When I was halfway to the gate, I spun on the ball of one foot and scanned the darkness behind me, but Jinx and Ceff were the only people in sight.

I let out a shaky breath and returned my attention to the cemetery.  The gates were made of wrought iron crafted in an ornate pattern.  They towered overhead at approximately seven feet at the highest point.

I pulled a bottle of clary sage from my pocket, unscrewed the cap, and squeezed a dropper full of the oil onto one of the gate hinges.  The air filled with the sharp, herbal scent and I proceeded to oil the remaining hinges.  Clary sage was the only oil I had on me at the moment.  I hoped it would help to keep the metal silent when it came time to push the gate open.

The gates were held shut with a thick, stainless steel chain and large padlock.  I unrolled the cloth containing my lock picking tools and glanced to my left and right.  Satisfied that no one was coming, I began picking the padlock.

It would have been faster to cut through the chain, but I was fresh out of bolt cutters.  Plus, if I got caught, trespassing was bad enough without adding vandalism to my rap sheet.

I inserted an L-shaped torsion wrench into the bottom of the keyhole.  I applied tension to the lock cylinder, first clockwise and then counterclockwise.  The cylinder turned a fraction of an inch counterclockwise.  I applied gentle torque to the wrench in the counterclockwise direction and held it there with my left hand.

Next, I inserted a hook pick into the upper part of the keyhole.  Working back to front, I pressed up with the pick, feeling each of the four pins.  Starting with the pin which offered the most resistance, I pressed the pick upward setting the pin.  I repeated the procedure, continuing with the final three pins.  I removed the pick and turned the torsion wrench counterclockwise, holding my breath.  The padlock clicked opened.

I slid the chain carefully from one of the gates and left it hanging in a loop.  I’d lock up behind us when we finished.  I took a deep breath and pushed the oiled gate halfway open.  I needed to allow enough space for Ceff to enter without coming into contact with the iron.  With one final glance at the grounds, I ducked back out onto the sidewalk and waved my friends forward.

My phone rang and my heart leapt into my throat.  I rushed to answer it, chiding myself for not turning off the ringer.

“I’ve been researching the Danse Macabre,” Father Michael said in a rush.  He sounded out of breath.  “I think I know how the dance can be stopped.  But Ivy?  I spoke with Kaye and she believes the number of fae children taken is significant.  The Piper may need a particular number of fae to begin the spell.  Do you know how many children have already been abducted?”

“Just a sec,” I said.  I jogged over to Jinx who was walking slowly toward the cemetery gate.  Ceff was leaning heavily against her, the nearby iron taking its toll.  “Jinx, Father Michael needs to know the number of kids who’ve gone missing.”

Jinx raised one painted eyebrow, but didn’t ask questions.  She shifted Ceff to one side and pulled out her phone.  She accessed her case files, tongue pressed against her cheek.  Within seconds Jinx had the information we needed.  I was glad that one of us was organized.

“Thirty-three,” she said.

“We have thirty-three kids reported missing,” I said into my phone.

I heard a quick intake of air on the other end.

“If The Piper already has thirty-three children, then you don’t have much time,” Father Michael said.  “He has what he needs to complete the spell.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.  “When Kaye told me her theory, I looked more closely at medieval paintings and carvings of the Danse Macabre.  The artwork often depicts thirty-three living dancers and thirty-three of the risen dead.”

Numbers, like names, hold power.  I knew from spending time with Kaye that the number three was often used when casting spells.  The number of children who had been taken made sense.  I just wished I’d noticed that detail sooner.

“Don’t worry,” I said.  “Torn helped narrow our search to two Harborsmouth cemeteries.  We’re at the gates of Ocean Overlook now.  If the children aren’t here, we’ll head over to Far Point.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, voice shrill.  “There’s no time.  Kaye thinks that once The Piper has the thirty-three children needed to complete the spell, he will begin the dance at midnight.”

Midnight?  I checked the time.  Talk about the eleventh freakin’ hour.  It was eleven forty-five.  The priest was right—we were running out of time.

Far Point cemetery was too far away and both cemeteries were huge.  It would be impossible to cover that much ground in fifteen, make that fourteen minutes, even if we split up.