Haunted Moon (14 page)

But Shade was right. If I could remember anything that might give us a clue on how to fight the Lord of Ghosts, it would help us. I strained to recall anything I hadn’t already told them, but nothing cropped up.

“I’m sorry…I told you everything I remember.”

Shade let out a sigh. “If there is any way…if we could only go into your mind and see what you saw…”

I shuddered. I’d already had someone root around in my head, and I wanted no part of that.

“Maybe you’ll remember more later,” Morio said, changing the subject.

I tossed a glance at Smoky. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing.

“I’ll do my best.” I leaned back, closing my eyes. So much had gone on today that all I wanted was a chance to go home, take a long bath, relax, and prepare for the evening ahead. Training under Aeval was difficult at best, and I needed to recharge and calm down before I headed out to Talamh Lonrach Oll.

We arrived home. I asked Delilah to phone Chase and tell him what we’d found out. She nodded, and I headed upstairs, nixing any company. I wanted to be alone, to relax. Smoky and Morio went out to work on Iris’s house, while Trillian took over in the kitchen, helping Iris and Hanna fix lunch.

As I filled the bathtub with water and poured in caramel-apple-scented bath gel, the bubbles frothed up. While the tub filled, I went into the bedroom and stepped out of my skirt, unfastened my corset, and shimmied out of my panties.

Misty was wandering around, and she looked up at me with her plume of a tail waving, then padded behind me as I returned to the bath. I sat down on the edge of the tub and petted her, my hand gliding over the silky energy that surrounded her spirit. It wasn’t the same as petting a living cat, but it felt softer, and—in some ways—her purr seemed
louder, the song reverberating through my aura rather than in through my ears.

“Today freaked me out,” I told her.

She purred, leaning into my hand.

“And now I have to go out to Talamh Lonrach Oll and face another challenge. I’m tired.”

Gazing up at me with those beautiful green eyes, she let out a
purp
.

“Life is getting more complicated,” I continued as she jumped up on the edge of the tub beside me. I stroked her under the chin. “It’s been eighteen months since Jocko died and we first found out about the demons and Shadow Wing. Now the war is getting worse. And Menolly and Delilah and I all have our separate paths to which we also have to devote time and energy. The world is getting bigger, Misty. There’s more to do. And less time in which to do it. I miss the old days. I miss not being afraid of who’s just around the corner, waiting to destroy the world. But I guess…there’s no going back, is there?”

Misty cocked her head, then rubbed against me again and jumped back onto the floor. The tub was full, so I turned off the water, as—with one last tap on my leg for another head scratch—Misty vanished, disappearing through the door.

It had seemed odd at first, seeing her walk through the walls, but now I was used to it. Lighting several candles, I dimmed the light and dipped one toe in the tub, taking a deep breath as the heat registered through my foot. It was almost too hot, but not quite, and I sank gratefully into the mass of bubbles, leaned back, and closed my eyes.

As the warmth of the water raced through me, loosening my muscles and helping me relax, I tried to let go of my worries and just drift in the comfort and safety of being home.

Images floated through my mind—Smoky’s stern but loving embrace, Trillian’s cunning smile, Morio’s passion when the magic caught both of us up in its grasp…Then I flashed on Delilah and how far she’d come over the time we’d been Earthside. Menolly, too…

As the images became flashes of light and energy and
sound, I felt myself starting to drift off and, realizing how tired I really felt, I settled deeper in the tub. Breathing deeply, I let myself slip into a light trance.

I was walking on a shore of some alien world—at least it felt alien. The sky was silver, and the water gunmetal gray. As I scanned the horizon, I realized that I knew this place. I was just seeing it from a different perspective. A dark cloud settled over my mood as I realized I was back in Gulakah’s mind.

What ties me to you, you freakazoid of a god?

I shivered, wrapping my arms around me, and glanced down. Naked, of course. Because I was naked in the bathtub. It began to register that I wasn’t feeling the overwhelming sense of fear I had before.

Am I really here, then? Or am I taking a trip down memory lane?

I prayed it was the latter—I
really
didn’t want to play psychic footsie with a god of dreams who had delusions of grandeur. Well, perhaps they weren’t
delusions
—he was powerful—but he’d abused his power and that was what got him kicked out of the Netherworld and down into Shadow Wing’s territory.

Get real. I have to be strolling through my memories, or I couldn’t keep up this sort of rational prattle. By now, if this were real, I’d be back swimming in the ocean. So, going on the theory that I’m safe, let’s have a look around.

I had only seen the faint outline of the shore when I’d actually been in Gulakah’s mind, but now I was walking on it. Which meant that either I had to know about it somehow or my mind was trying to fill in the details.

Pausing, I turned to the open sea. The gray waves crested against the shore, leaving a sickly foam behind. I knelt down and stared at the lacework residue. Why gray? But I knew the answer. During the times I’d been in the Netherworld, gray mists had roiled through, and the sky was an unending silver.

There was never any change, from what Shade had told us. Since Gulakah had been the Lord of Ghosts there, of course his energy would be filled with the silvery mist. The same as many of the spirits Morio and I dealt with.

Something about that thought registered as important. I tried to reason it out.

Ghosts…
Ghosts are left over and out of place—spirits who haven’t moved on. They’re unnatural, out of step with the Eternal Return.

As I knelt on the edge of an ocean of nightmares, it hit me like a brick wall. Gulakah was a god out of step—a god who didn’t belong in the natural order. He’d sought to increase his power, which would have put him even more out of sync with the Netherworld, because all realms had their own balance. And when things got out of balance…

“Very good, Camille.”

Startled, I almost fell forward but caught myself. I turned around.

Standing next to me was a woman as elegant as a diamond necklace. She was a little taller than me, and buxom, wearing a beaded corset in shades of ivory and silver. Her skirt was long and flowed to her ankles—the color of mist. Beneath a headdress—silver and crowned with crystal antlers—her hair flowed to her knees, its color caught between white and ice, and her eyes were deep black, with silver flecks.

In one hand she held a thin wand, in the other a sparkle of glowing light. It twinkled as she held it out, then blew on it. The light flew up from her hand into the air, where it spiraled for a moment, then took a nosedive toward me, exploding as it covered me with light.

“What—who are you?” I stood, still naked. But she didn’t even blink.

“Don’t you know me, Camille? You should. I’m Pentangle, the Mistress of Magic.”

I stumbled back, then fell to my knees and bowed my head.

Pentangle, one of the Hags of Fate. Pentangle, the Mother of Magic.

“My lady, what would you ask of me?” I had no clue how Pentangle had ended up in my thoughts, but I decided to just go with the flow.

“First, you aren’t roaming in your memories.” She smiled faintly, and the energy flowing off her blasted through me like a surge from a furnace, leaving me a toasty pink.

How had she read my mind? Could she be right?

“Then where the hell am I? If I’m back in Gulakah’s mind, shouldn’t I be feeling stark, raving terror?”

She gazed beyond me, toward the unending ocean. “You are not in Gulakah’s mind, although yes, you were…the first time.”

Before I could speak, she held up her hand.

“Yes, I know what happened. I am the Mistress of Magic. I guard the strands that manipulate energy. I know much of what goes on in the magical realm, when I choose to direct my focus. And I know what happened to you. I can read you like the books you so love. Don’t play shy with me, girl. I could dip into your mind and strip you down to the core, should I choose.”

I’d only ever encountered one other Hag of Fate—and that was Grandmother Coyote. And she seemed more human than Pentangle. Grandmother Coyote was firm and solid and lived in the woods near our home. Or at least she had a foothold there.

The Hags of Fate were immortal, like the Elemental Lords and the Harvestmen. Powerful beyond even the gods, they usually intervened in human affairs to right a balance gone wrong. Even if that meant giving evil a nudge now and then. They usually kept to themselves, but when they appeared, you knew something was about to break loose.

“Then where am I?” I glanced around. If I wasn’t just roaming through my memories, and I wasn’t in Gulakah’s mind, I must have been…
where?

“You’re standing on the edge of the Ocean of Anger. You’re in the Netherworld, and you’re looking at one of the strongest forces that keeps ghosts tied to the mortal realm. This body of…emotion…is created by all the residue anger and fury
that ghosts bring with them to the Netherworld. And it was Gulakah’s undoing. He began to use it as a personal magical source, and the more he focused on it, the more powerful the angry ghosts became in the mortal world. That’s why he was cast out—he disrupted the balance. But the damage has been done. The energy pool is too powerful, thanks to his meddling, and the balance continues to shift. The ocean feeds too many spirits over on the mortal planes. They, in turn, keep feeding the ocean, creating a synergistic effect.”

I knelt down and touched the liquid with my fingers. Once again, the feelings of terror and powerlessness ran through me, and I glanced at her over my shoulder. “So, my fear?”

“You are corporeal. Your fear is a normal reaction. The angry ghosts thrive on it. So does Gulakah. The ocean that you were lost in? You slipped into his connection to this primal pool of energy. He has found a way to continue to tap into the Ocean of Anger from where he now resides.”

And with that, Pentangle turned and began to walk gently up the shore, the silvery sand shifting as she made her way through it. Her feet were bare, and the edge of her hem trailed along the moist dunes.

“Wait! Why did you show me this?” I started to follow her but found I could not move. My feet were stuck in the sand.

Over her shoulder, without turning around, she said, “Because you needed to know. Do not forget my words. The only way the balance here will be restored is with Gulakah’s defeat.”

And then she vanished. I turned back to the ocean, folding my arms across my chest. So this was the Netherworld. I’d been here before, but never so far in, and I knew that I had to leave this place soon. The living did not fare well here, whether in spirit or body. As I stared out over the sheen, the wind sprang up and buffeted around me, bringing with it the scent of decay, and old arguments, and long-forgotten furies. I blocked them, putting up a shield to keep them from infecting my mood.

Gulakah had long been banished from the Netherworld, and this ocean had been churning all that time. Perhaps this was why there seemed to be so much ghostly activity over Earthside. How long had the balance been disrupted? For centuries, at least. And how many spirits had been trapped, unable to move on, because they’d been caught up by the primal force of anger that kept them bound to the world of the living?

Too many.
The words sprang to my thoughts. Too many, and they would only increase until we stopped the Lord of Ghosts. But could we truly kill him? And were we supposed to? Killing a demon general was one thing. But killing a god…that just seemed wrong.

She didn’t say Gulakah’s death…
but his defeat.

True, I argued with myself, but what did
defeat
mean? If we sent him back to the Netherworld, would they just evict him again? If we sent him back to the Subterranean Realms, Shadow Wing would just use him again. If we killed him…then what?

More confused than ever, I decided it was time to leave this place. I sucked in a deep breath, blinked, and opened my eyes.

The bubbles had dissipated, and the water was cooling. I waited for the water to drain out, then turned on the shower and quickly rinsed off the residue soap. As I toweled off and padded back into my room to dress, the thought crossed my mind that we might have met our match in Gulakah.

And then the unwelcome thought intruded that if Gulakah was this strong and he was working for Shadow Wing, just how the hell strong was the Demon Lord himself? And with that cheerful question playing and replaying in my head, I slipped into a calf-length gauze skirt, fastened a plum-colored bustier over the top, and headed downstairs to eat a late lunch and talk to the others.