Needle Rain (12 page)

“What are you that a ghost may possess you? Possession by ghosts is an old wives’ tale – a myth. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Anisa’s gaze flicked from spot to spot as she surveyed Heloise’s body.

Why was this?

Heloise looked down at herself and knew.

On her arms and legs, the many emerald-green spots she’d noticed before, when in her room, had fired up again and were leaking green miasma as if she were a balloon about to expire.

Imperator
– the ruler of the Burgla’le empire.

*****

What was she? Heloise blanched. The question had struck to the very heart of her fears. The fiery points on her skin faded slowly away. The miasma dissipated.

Footsteps on the inner stairs reminded her of the guards. She should not be here. She should not...

She looked at her pajamas. The entire world she stood in vibrated with wrongness. It was as if the scaffolding was shaking and to stay a moment more, or to move in the wrong direction threatened her with chaos.

Transfixed by her revelation, she stared at Anisa.

“Goodbye.” She spun and ran for the window.

A watch-spider clung horizontally to the wall outside. Its red eyes tracked her swift descent. Grass underfoot. The fence was that way. Even as she ran, she reveled in everything – the feel of the soft grass, the noises and scents, even the spike of a twig in her heel. Alive. In command of her body. It was an old and new sensation all at once.

To avoid the dangers of meeting the wrong sorts while unarmed and dressed in pajamas, the journey back demanded vigilance and much improvisation of route. She arrived at Uncle’s just before dawn. Heloise toted up the pluses and minuses of walking in brazenly through the front doors. Ranking high on her list of no-nos was having to explain the pajama’s to the sentries.

Funny that.

For a while she stayed in the shadows and thought about ascending to her room via the wall.

The problem with climbing up was that Uncle’s men were far more alert than Anisa’s and didn’t rely on gem-encrusted trinkettons. She would likely be spotted and perhaps skewered by a crossbow bolt, if unlucky and the sentry acted before he realized her identity.

Getting out was easier than getting in. Besides, her fingers and feet were aching.

She walked up to the front doors. Though bemused, one of the sentries, a tall, long-faced man, recognized her and she was escorted inside.

Uncle was away organizing a search...for her. A message was sent to him via homing fly as well as three human runners as back-up. On the way up the last flight of stairs her legs began to shake.

Heloise opened her door, thanked the sentry, closed the door, and leaned against it. Exhausted but home.

A man sat in her single red armchair, his bulk squeezed awkwardly into the space between the padded armrests. His long legs were in the regulation black leggings of Uncle’s company though his tan boots were embossed with a non-regulation swarm of magenta skulls.

“Bull. Nice boots.” She smiled wanly and propped herself upright. The boots were a dead giveaway – bought from a shonky hastino merchant in the Grakk district. Bull normally only wore them when off duty.

He turned his head, raised his eyebrows at her, and cast a glance at his well-polished boots. “You can’t have them.” It was a running joke between them despite her feet being umpteen sizes smaller.

She tottered toward the bed then changed her mind. She was utterly sick of wearing pink pajama’s. “Wait there.” She flapped her hand at him.

After rummaging in the cupboard for some fresh clothes, she went to the bathroom. With the door closed behind her it was tempting to simply collapse in a heap on the floor. Everywhere ached. She lifted her left foot. Blood seeped from several small wounds. Letting someone else use your body appeared to be hazardous.

“This cannot happen again.” There. She’d admitted her fear. Again. That there might be others. Other ghosts. But she didn’t know for sure. She shook her head and picked through the clothes.

Time to look like a real woman again, not a girl or an invalid. Pale blue leggings with silver teardrop overlay. Sleeveless blue tunic. She blinked at the twinkling green spots marking her arms and hoped no one else could see them. Lightweight silvered-steel mesh top with sleeves down to her wrists. Last was a long blue leather jacket. Nothing too obvious but enough there to turn a blade.

No comb showed itself in any of the drawers so she ran her fingers through her hair.
Right.

When she emerged there was a moment of appreciative surprise on Bull’s face. Odd...to think of him thinking that way, when she still felt an urge to curl up in his lap and tell him all her worries like she used to when she was little.

Instead of sitting on the bed, she headed for the little balcony. No chairs, but the sun was breaking through the darkness over to the east. She needed to see the light. Bull joined her at the railing.

The street at the front of the house ran parallel to the distant sea. She watched the street change, her tangled, misery-laden mood ebbing away as the early light tilted gradually to flood over the lip of the street and down, like a golden flood.

Beyond the street the land dropped off in a steep slope teeming with palms and a mini-forest of gums and fig trees. A glossy black crow cawed a morning greeting from its perch on the dead branch of a sky-touching gum. A flock of green-and-red parrots rose into the air as one, wheeling off across the lower rooftops. Gold light glinted off the windows of the taller houses. A pungent lemony scent rose from the gum trees and mixed with the smell of bacon fat frying in the downstairs kitchens.

Life, normal life, was all around her, flaunting itself, as if to say, look at what you’re missing.

Heloise lowered her head until her chin rested on her clasped hands where she held the railing.

“What do you know, Bull?”

He sighed.

“I know you must know something.”

It was like standing next to a stone monolith that had been out in the sun. She could feel the heat and the sheer sense of
presence
coming off him. It was comforting. He couldn’t stop everything bad happening, but it sure felt like he could.

“I know that when you came back from the cemetery you were bleeding all over.” He cleared his throat. She looked and saw the little frown line above his worried eyes. “From the needles most of it. The rest from the head wound.”

“How many needles?”

“Twenty-something. Your uncle knows. Anyway, he’s had Needle Masters from the council examine you...”

Damn.
She’d been violated and not just by Drager. It was an ugly realization.

She couldn’t remember that examination. It irked, embarrassed, and angered her, all at once. “And?”

“Heloise, they don’t know why you’re alive. That many needles...where they are...usually it sucks the life out of you faster than an Immolator can sneeze.”

Heloise narrowed her eyes. The crow had forsaken his perch and flown across to the statue of Gormorra in the circular garden below. “Are you supposed to tell me that?”

“No. Your uncle told us all, very specifically, not to tell you.”

“Hmph. Thank you.”

“He thought it might upset you.”

“Well. No. I doubt I could be more upset than I already was, and am.” She smiled up at Bull. “But I’m handling it. I need to find out what’s going on, how to stop...things. Anything else? What do these needles do?”

“They don’t know, least that’s what they said. They’re in the main points or something and no one does what he did to you. The bastard.” His knuckles went white, where they wrapped over the railing.

“No. Guess they wouldn’t. Seeing how I should be dead. Gods. Needles give, needles take away.”

“Yeah. I got one years ago. Had them pull it out soon after. Not worth losing some life.”

“You did? What did the needle do?”

Bull colored. “Um...nothing much.”

Had Bull asked for some kinky enhancement? If this’d been a normal day, she would’ve teased him.

Horses clattered at a fast canter into the yard below and among the riders were Uncle and Kane.

“They’ll be up here soon.” Bull pretended to be engrossed in looking down at them. His fists opened and closed then his expression changed. He turned and focused, hard, on her.

“Heloise, I can’t bring Sonja back but I sure as damnation can help keep you safe. You ain’t going nowhere without me anymore. Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or do I have to beat it out of you? And, by the way, that Kane, he’s not good enough for you.”

“What?” She was dumbfounded for a few seconds. “Bull...hate to correct you but...if you beat it out of me I won’t be that safe around you.” She couldn’t stop a grin spreading and a guffaw coming out. “Um. Sorry. Serious now.”

She looked at her feet a moment, having to still her quivering mouth and fight an urge to cry.

“Right. Listen. This can’t be repeated to Uncle. Not yet.”

He nodded.

“Last night, a ghost took over my body and...and I nearly murdered someone. Bull, I can’t control my own actions. If this happens again I need you to follow me and stop me if you have to.”

“A ghost?” Surprised, yet he reached over and put his broad hand atop hers. “Done. But even more...we have to figure out how to stop it from happening.”

“Yes.” She sniffed. “We do.”

Minutes later, Uncle marched in with Kane. For a tense moment he merely examined her. The toll of chasing after her all night showed on him also. His eyes were reddened and his face pale. He pulled off each glove slowly before he spoke

“Are you safe and whole, Heloise?”

A very formal phrasing. She answered him similarly, wondering what was behind his restraint. “I am.”

Well, she was mostly whole. Her feet did feel like pin cushions.

“Good.” He nodded several times, frowning off and on. “A report caught up to me as I rode in. I will have to assess it, then I expect to hear from you about what happened tonight.” He turned then thought better, apparently, and looked at her again. “I’m not angry at you. Would you like a doctor to see you?”

More violation?
Hell no.
She shook her head.

“Then you should rest until breakfast. I think Kane would like to talk to you.”

On the contrary, at the suggestion, Kane looked ready to bolt.

She heard Uncle talk to someone outside and appoint a man to stand guard on her balcony.

“Umm. Heloise?” There was bewilderment and fear in Kane’s demeanor.

“Yes?” When she most needed comfort, the man was acting as if she still had the ghost inside her. She couldn’t show how shattered she was to Kane. Not yet. He had something he wanted to get off his chest.

He walked over, stopping an arm’s length from her. Every part of him seemed stiff, even the muscles of his face. “Are you hurt, or anything?”

“I already –” She bit her lip. Maybe he was shook up? Maybe, like her, what he needed was physical reassurance? She had this bizarre certainty that if she could simply hug him everything would be normal again.

She raised her hands then stopped.

Words, there weren’t enough of them to say what she needed to communicate. She worked her mouth, searching for them, then gave up. “Just hold me, please. I need you to.”

“I c-can’t. Not now. I can’t.” Kane stepped backward. “Your uncle said I should let you rest.” He blushed. Before she could recover from her confusion, he’d exited.

A guard came in then shut the door. He marched to the balcony and stationed himself there without so much as saying please.

“Well, well,” she murmured. Her boyfriend had run away and she had a guard in her bedroom.

Emptiness welled up, filling her heart with coldness. That had been more than some minor desertion. Another small grief to toss into the maelstrom.

She shot a look at Bull, who remained. He might say things to her but he wouldn’t interfere. Uncle was his boss.

The room was quiet. She glared at the balcony. Bull held up his hands in helplessness.

She stalked out to the guard – a young man who studiously stared at the ocean as if trying to ignore her.

“You!” He flinched. “Leave! I have a guard at the door and I have Bull, I don’t need you as well. Leave!” She was tired, hurt, and ready to snap somebody’s head off.

Like a mouse cornered by a cat, his eyes were wide and desperate. “I can’t, miss. Orders.”