Wolves and the River of Stone (32 page)

“What is that?” Zola said. “It is not a fallen art.”

“No,” Mike said, “It will reveal a fallen art, though not one as dark a one as you think. One capable of killing an undine. One that does not require you to harm an innocent to kill the corrupt.”

“How do you know that?” I said.

“Because I wrote it.”

Zola and I both almost gasped in surprise.

“I wrote it as a last resort. In case the undines came for me. The first half of the book, which I’m sure you’ve read by now, was written by a necromancer I knew long ago. She was a witch for several years before she realized her true potential. The hidden text was written by my hand. Didn’t you wonder how a book hundreds of years old looked new?”

I grimaced and Mike laughed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said. “The only question I see now is: do you really love Nixie? Enough to use a fallen art to kill her queen? When you don’t even know if killing her queen will really free her?”

I looked out the window. I didn’t have an answer.

“I wouldn’t know either,” Mike said.

Zola squeezed my arm. “You should not tempt him so thoroughly Mike. What happens if he uses
your
art to kill an innocent? What then? Will it be enough to break your vow?”

“I don’t know, but the Queen of the undines is no innocent.”

“What happens to me?” I said. “What happens if I use it?”

“Damian, you can’t!” Sam said.

“Just, hypothetically, you know.”

“Right, sure, like when you
hypothetically
stole dad’s car and drove into the neighbor’s garage, while the garage door was closed.” Everyone laughed, even me. “You don’t even know what hypothetically means.”

“Harsh Sam, harsh,” I said.

“The truth hurts, Demon.”

Mike scratched his ear and said, “I always thought I had a bad nickname. Congratulations, yours sucks.”

I grinned and bobbed my head.

“What happens to the practitioner?” Zola asked. She stared at the demon, a mixture of apprehension and interest on her face.

“If your intentions are pure, and your target is not, nothing will be unbalanced. No sacrifice will be made.” Mike looked down at his hands. “If your intentions are misguided, or the target is innocent, you will become the sacrifice. You will find yourself dead and imprisoned so far into the depths of hell not even the bravest harrower would dare to seek you out. Your soul will rot in flames until the end of days.”

“Oh,” I said. “At least it’s not something bad.”

Mike let out a low laugh.

***

Another hour passed and the monotony started to take its toll. Everyone started to fidget or sigh or polish their sword, or tap on their bloody cane with their fingernails. I stared at Zola’s hands as they hammered out a steady rhythm. I cringed and rubbed my face.

“Hey, Vassili,” I said.

The old vampire craned his neck to look at me.
“Da?”

“I’m sorry if this isn’t phrased respectfully, but, what are you exactly? Are you a lord or a duke or ...” I moved my hand in useless circles.

Vassili smiled and turned back to the road. “No, my friend. I am only a luminary for my Pit, though I do like the title of duke. Perhaps I can convince the lords to grant me the name,
da?”

“Vassili is our leader,” Vik said. “We don’t really have a formal title for him.”

Dominic nodded and glanced back at Vik. “Only the lords have titles, I don’t know why though.”

Vassili chuckled. “None do, and some have been around a very long time.”

“Are there a lot of lords?” I said.

Dominic shook his head.

“There is one lord for each time zone,” Zola said.

“You are full of surprises,” Vassili said. “Not many outside our race know of that fact.”

“Are you serious?” I said to Zola. “I’ve never heard that. Are they named after the time zones? Like the Central Standard Lord?” I laughed at my own wit. Sam didn’t.

She smacked me in the back of the head. “It’s not funny, Damian.”

“Oh god, there’s not really a Central Standard Lord is there?” I said.

“No, you ass, there’s not. They just use their real names.”

Zola chuckled. “One per time zone per country. Camazotz is the only lord in Guatemala because they only have one time zone. Formally, another vampire may call him Lord Camazotz, but it’s unusual.”

“You are a funny man, Vesik,” Vassili said. “You should know these things, being such a reputable necromancer,
da?”

“That’s what Zola keeps telling me.”

Vassili laughed and slapped the armrest on his seat. “Always the master knows what is best.”

“She tells me that too.”

The entire van burst into laughter again.

“W
e’re getting close now,” Carter said.

“Yes, we are,” Zola said. She fished around in her cloak and pulled out four bronze amulets. “Ah think it’s time you all had these.” She leaned up and handed two over to Dominic and two to Vik in the back. After the battle at Cromlech Glen, Vik and Dominic had given theirs back without prompting. I guess watching a necromancer devastate the landscape gives you some extra motivation not to cause trouble.

Dominic tapped Vassili’s arm and the old vampire took the amulet with a smile.

“Ah, a fantastic payment Zola. Truly fantastic,” he said as the black silk cord slipped over his neck. “Now, I must insist, try to touch my aura. I want to see your wards in action.”

Zola elbowed me and said, “Go on. Try it. These are a bit different from Sam’s.”

I glanced back at Sam and then up to Vassili. “Alright,” I said. I focused and sent my own power coursing over Hugh and the cu siths until it rolled across Vassili’s aura. I watched as my necromancy passed through the old vampire’s aura like it was a living aura, almost as if it wasn’t even there. “It’s not ... I can’t even grab it.”

Vassili clapped and rubbed his hands together. “It’s perfect, Zola. I can tell something is touching me,
da,
but it is powerless against the ward.” He held up the amulet and said,
“Spasibo.”

I broke my concentration and let the flux of power dissipate.

“It does not render all magic impotent, Vassili,” Zola said. “Be wary of the mages, for the powerful have the knowledge to break wards.”

“True words, my friend. True words.”

I looked out the windows at the sky’s fading light as we closed in on Stones River. An all-too-familiar heaviness pressed on my chest and I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves.

“Carter,” Zola said. “Take Wilkinson Pike. Ah want to avoid the front door.”

“We’re over a mile out from the river,” Carter said. “I doubt Philip will be watching this part of the park.” He glanced at us in the rearview mirror. “We’re better off being overly cautious.”

Zola nodded as she resumed tapping her fingernails on her cane. It made me think of my own chunk of wood.

“Hey Zola, where’s my staff?”

“In back, behind the seats.”

“Oh, good.”

“Is your pepperbox dry?”

I pulled the gun out of the holster and looked it over. “Yeah, it looks alright.”

“May I?” Vassili said.

“Sure,” I said as I checked to make sure it was unloaded. I passed the gun to Alan, and he passed it to Vassili.

He turned the gun over in his hands and ran his fingers down the creases between the barrels. “Magnificent.” Vassili shook his head. “Hmm, a modified 1837 Allen and Thurber.” He cracked open the center of the gun and raised his eyebrows. “The entire mechanism is changed! I see you added rifling and a firing pin as well, but what is the second trigger for?”

Aideen jumped down to the console. “I can tell you that.”

“Ah, fairy work,
da?”

She nodded. “It will fire all six barrels at once, or whichever ones are loaded.”

“Magnificent.” Vassili ran his hand over the butt of the gun and the etchings above either side of the triggers. I heard the hiss of a steak frying and Vassili frowned. He rubbed his fingertips together and then smiled.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry!” I said. “The silver is blessed.”

“
Da,
I noticed.” He held his hand up and he was already healed. Vampires shouldn’t heal that fast. I was torn between being glad he wasn’t hurt and being worried the silver hadn’t done more damage.

He closed the gun and handed it to Alan again.

“It’s silver!” I said as Alan grabbed the butt of the gun.

“Blessed silver,” The werewolf said as he looked the gun over, broke it open, snapped it closed and handed it back. “It won’t hurt us unless it cuts us. That’s a hell of a gun.” I holstered it once Alan passed it back.

“Sorry about that, Vassili” I said.

“Think nothing of it. I am quite fine.”

Zola was staring at the back of Vassili’s seat. She wasn’t smiling, or frowning, just staring. I would have loved to have known what she was thinking.

Carter glanced up at the rearview mirror and said, “We’re here.”

***

I caught a glimpse of an entryway flanked by two large, stone signs in the distance as Carter shot through a yellow light at Wilkinson Pike. I didn’t need to see the words to know what they would say, “Stones River National Battlefield.” I took a few deep breaths, but my chest tightened up again as Carter cut the lights. Tires crunched on gravel as we bounced up to a closed gate.

“Allow me,” Vassili said as he vanished from the front seat. I could see his hair moving in the shadows as he leaned over the chain locking the aluminum gate. His head turned to the wooden post. There was a quiet crack of wood as Vassili tore one half of the metal blockade from its mount and laid the gate wide open. The van fell silent when Vassili closed his door and we continued into the park. Darkness was rolling across the area as Carter pulled the wheel to the right and drove into a field of vegetation as high as the van. He slowed to a stop near a copse of trees.

“We’ll leave the car here,” Carter said. “No one’s coming through here this late.”

Waves of horror and desperation chewed at the back of my brain and I couldn’t shake the feelings. Hugh slid the door to the van open and hopped out, flattening tall grasses as he made his way over to the gravel drive. I let everyone else get out ahead of me until Maggie finally patted my shoulder in a not-so-subtle effort to get me moving.

My feet touched the ground and I swayed. Sam grabbed my arm and steadied me.

“You okay?” she said.

“The dead, bloody hell, there’re so many.” I closed my eyes and hundreds, thousands of dead battered my senses. “It’s horrible. This is an awful place.”

“Concentrate, boy,” Zola said. “You can handle this. Think of them as fuel, weapons.”

“They were people,” I said.

“Past tense. Worry about it later. For now you have to focus.”

I nodded and pulled Sam’s hand away from my arm. “Let me try.” I took a few deep breaths, steadily pulling air through my nose, holding it for a second, and releasing it through my mouth. The damp smell of freshly burned grass filled my nostrils and grew sharp. In my next breath I smelled gunpowder, and blood, screams and cries filled my head. I took another breath and pushed back against the restless dead. Silence and the scent of the evening air returned. I opened my eyes and found Sam’s frowning face about two inches from my own.

“Are you okay?”

I smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. Thanks.” I followed Sam a few steps to the back of the van. The werewolves and the vampires were in a semicircle around Carter and Vassili. Carter stomped a stubborn clump of yellow flowers to the ground before he pulled the van’s back door open. He tossed my staff and a bandolier full of speed loaders for the pepperbox to me. I caught the black nylon straps in mid-air and stared at them. “What’s this?”

“A gift, from Vassili,” Carter said.

“
Da,
Zola told me about your gun,” Vassili said. “I don’t really know much about guns.” He winked and turned back to the gathered group.

I glanced at Zola and she just shrugged.

“Thank you,” I said.

Vassili nodded.

The bandolier crisscrossed over my chest. It didn’t limit my movement and it was still easy to get to my holster. I pulled out a speed loader experimentally. It was a tight fit. It wasn’t going to fall out, but with adrenaline pumping I wouldn’t even notice the resistance.

Mike the Demon tugged on one of the bandoliers and smirked. “Not bad, and it’s not even cursed.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Last time I saw a vampire as old as Vassili give a gift, it was saturated with one hell of a curse.”

Vassili laughed. “Yes, the demon is right Damian. You should always be wary of the old vampires. But today your master gave me a great gift. I only reciprocate.” He gave a small bow and Mike shook his head.