Grave Dance

“Coleman couldn’t get rid of her?”

Rianna shook her head, and the dog at her side made a huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. She ignored him. “You don’t get rid of brownies. You could burn the place to the ground, but I’ve heard they will stick around to tend the ashes. Though, sometimes, if they particularly like a family or a person, they will relocate with them rather than remain attached to a domicile.” She shrugged, like she used to when we’d study together at academy and she didn’t think the subject was particularly interesting.

“Right.” My head was spinning. This is all a little surreal. “Are there any other, uh, inhabitants I should know about?”

“Just a garden gnome. He tends the grounds, but he’s shy. I rarely catch sight of him.” She leaned closer. “I think he’s sweet on Ms. B.”

I stared at her, trying to decide if she was joking. She wasn’t. How do I get myself into these things? I turned back toward the castle. “So are we sure Coleman’s holdings are now mine? I mean, I didn’t exactly claim anything—I just showed up.”

“Faerie locked this place up tight as soon as Coleman bit the big one. The castle opened for you. It’s yours.”

Great. A castle, really? I turned away. “Well, then, I guess I should head back.”

“You haven’t even looked around yet. Aren’t you curious?”

I was, but I’d just found out I owned a castle in Faerie, complete with house- and groundskeepers; I wasn’t up for much more yet. “It’s claimed. Everyone can get inside again.” Which was what I was assuming was the real issue. Homeless in Faerie land—it sounded like a bad TV show. “You don’t really need me for anything else right now, do you?”

“You’ll need to choose a court,” she said, quickly adding, “eventually, of course.”

“What happens if I want to stay in the mortal realm and be independent?”

Rianna threw out her hands to stop my words, her head swinging back and forth and her gaze sweeping over the castle like she was afraid it might jump up and run. “Don’t say that,” she hissed. “Faerie might listen. Doesn’t happen often, but once in a while, Faerie will try to move the independents’ holdings to the mortal realm. I don’t think anyone wants this castle to suddenly force itself into Nekros City.”

Oh, yeah, I could see trying to explain that. And with the way reality tended to bend around me, it would be my luck that my castle would appear downtown—probably in the middle of the statehouse lawn.

“I’ll look into courts,” I said, though I had little intention of looking quickly. From what Caleb had said, if I wanted to remain in Nekros, I’d have to align myself with the winter court, but when that court moved on, I’d have to go as well. Not a good option. “So, you’re good here?”

She nodded. “For now. Come on, I’ll lead you back.”

She headed toward a small arch in a cavern wall, which I assumed was what we’d stepped out of despite the fact it looked like solid stone. As before, she took my arm and we stepped through the arch. Guards once again met us in the deserted halls of the winter court, and after Rianna once again produced the pendant—did I want to know what she’d gone through to acquire that?—we found ourselves with a snow-cloaked guide leading us through a maze of icy corridors.

As we walked, I leaned closer to her. “So, what do you do here?”

“I’m guessing you don’t mean ‘here’ as in the winter court. In Stasis, there isn’t much to do, and most of the fae won’t have anything to do with me. Inside the courts, there are balls—lots of them—games, arts, legal proceedings. I don’t know, faerie stuff.”

“And you never leave?”

She shrugged as we reached the large ice pillar I’d seen after I left the Eternal Bloom. “There is no decay in Faerie. Practically no death. That means no shades to raise, and you know what it’s like if you don’t raise shades on occasion.”

I nodded. It hurt. A grave witch ached from the inside out if she didn’t raise shades on a regular basis. And grave essence tended to slip through even carefully maintained shields, the magic reaching out and filling corpses that the witch had no intention of raising. But if there was no grave essence . . .

“I slip out every once in a while, just long enough to raise a shade.” Noise and light filled the air as we stepped through the winter court and into the Eternal Bloom. “Well, I guess this is where I leave you.”

I held up a hand to stall her. “Wait. Do you remember your last year at academy when we mingled our magic and raised that ancient shade? The one whose body had been found mummified in a bog and was believed to be a witch or a priestess but no one else could even sense it?”

“The one that turned out to speak absolutely no English, so even though we raised it, we couldn’t get an intelligible thing from it?” She smiled—a slow, creeping smile, like the memory had reminded her how to make her lips do it. “What about it?”

“This is going to sound strange, but feet have been washing up from the Sionan. A single foot isn’t enough for me to raise a shade, but if we mingled our magic . . . I thought that together we might have more luck.”

The smile fell from her lips as I spoke. She was frowning by the time I finished. “I would have to leave Faerie for that.”

“You said you’re able to leave,” I said, and her hand dropped to Desmond’s coat. She did that whenever a subject she wasn’t comfortable with arose. I stuck my hands in my pockets and stepped back. “Never mind. It was just a thought.” Sharing magic was personal, and not always comfortable or safe, which was why I hadn’t thought about it when I’d first been unable to raise the shade. But Rianna and I had successfully merged our grave magic before. I shrugged. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

I turned to go, but Rianna called after me.

“That’s it?”

I frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“You could tell me to help you,” she said, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Could command me.”

My stomach twisted, soured. I stepped forward, lowering my voice so it didn’t carry to the tables surrounding us. “Rianna, I don’t care what the laws of Faerie say. You are my friend. That’s it. If you aren’t comfortable sharing magic or are nervous about leaving Faerie, I’m not going to force you.” I smiled. “I might beg a little once in a while, but you’ll remember that well enough from academy—all those times I tried to get you to help fudge the results of my spellcasting homework, or that one time I was convinced I could get the attention of that super-crushable guy in meditation if I could cast . . . I don’t even remember what spell it was.”

Rianna’s smile was reluctant, but it slowly crept across her face. “A doppelgänger spell, so you could skip class while still being there. Didn’t you end up managing to make a copy of yourself that talked backward and totally failed at wearing clothing?”

“Yeah. I never sent it to class.”

She laughed, her fingers slipping from Desmond’s coat and lifting to her mouth as though she could catch the sound of her own amusement. “I’d have loved to see the teacher’s face if you had sent it.”

“No way. She was a total prude. I’d have been kicked out of academy before anyone managed to dispel the stupid double.”

She nodded, but her smile remained. The laughter had done her some good and brought color to her cheeks. “Okay,” she said after a moment. “When and where do you want to attempt to raise this shade?”

“You don’t have to—”

She waved away my protest. “Yes, trips out of Faerie frighten me, but trips to Faerie frighten you.” She held up a hand, motioning for silence. “And don’t even try to deny it. You glance at your boot anytime anyone around us moves, so I’m guessing that’s where you stashed the dagger.” She smiled. “You came to Faerie because I asked for your help. I can suck it up and leave because you asked for mine. So, when and where?”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not forcing you to do anything.”

“Just a friendly favor.”

I nodded. “I’ll need to talk to John,” I said, and then realized that since she’d been out of my life for several years, she wouldn’t know John. “He’s the homicide detective on the case. I’ll let you know when he can set up time at the morgue. How can I contact you?”

“I’ll send Desmond or Ms. B,” she said. Then she reached out and hugged me. “I missed you so much, Al.” She stepped back. “See you soon?”

“You know it.”

We said our good-byes. Then I made my way out of the club, and no one even tried to enslave me this time.

Chapter 10

Roy waited for me just outside the door to the VIP room. “What time is it?” I asked as I signed out on the ledger. I didn’t ask what day, though that was what I really wanted to know.

“No worries, lass,” the little bouncer said from his stool. “No more ’an five minutes have passed on this side.”

I blinked at him and then glanced at Roy for confirmation. Logically I knew the bouncer wasn’t lying—that he couldn’t lie—but I’d had multiple conversations and taken a trek through part of Faerie. Hours had passed for me. It seemed impossible that only a few minutes had passed in the mortal realm.

Roy shoved his glasses higher up on his nose and shrugged. “That sounds about right.”

Okay, then.

I shoved open the main door. The sun still hung in the same place as when I’d walked through the door earlier. Five minutes. I could use extra hours once in a while—imagine how much more I could accomplish. Of course, from what Rianna had said, if I was more mortal than fae, then time would catch up with me every sunrise and sunset. I wouldn’t want to waste away years in Faerie and end up old before my birth certificate said I should be.