Imperium (Caulborn) (9 page)

I made an effort to keep a straight face. “Allow me to clarify. I require an analysis run on these plants, Master Gearstripper.” I turned back to Doc Ryan. “I think they’re supernatural in origin, and anything you can tell me about them will be good.” I filled the Doc in on what I'd Glimpsed.

The Doc rubbed his chin. “This is more up Mrs. Rita’s alley than mine. I’ll run some preliminary scans on them, but she’ll be able to tell you more.” He scooped up the bag of vines and placed them in a plastic bin on the desk. “She’ll be here in a few hours, and knowing her, she’ll have answers for you before I get done analyzing your silver goo.”

“My appreciation to you both.” I smiled. The Doc waved me away with his free hand and took another drag on his cigarette. I excused myself and headed up to Galahad’s office.

Megan was already there and had briefed Galahad on what we’d found in New Hampshire. “What’s your next move?” he asked.

“I’ll work on what happened to Seamus McElery next,” I said. “There’s an Urisk ritual that I might be able to use to see what happened to him, and if Kristin’s right about him being turned into a zombie.”

Galahad pursed his lips. “How much time will you need?”

I checked my watch. It was just past four. “Not long. I should be back here by nightfall.”

“I’ll come with you,” Megan said.

“Thanks, Meg, but this is kind of a god-only situation.” It was hard to describe the intimacy I felt for my followers, and there weren’t many people I’d be willing to share that with. Petra, sure. Anyone else? Well, probably not.

“All right,” Megan said. “I’ll see if I can find out anything else about Seamus McElery on this side while you’re gone.”

Galahad nodded at both of us. “God be with you, Vincent. I will pray for your safe return.”

I winked at him and left the building. Crossing over to Bright Side requires what’s called a phasilion, a living portal between our world and the fae’s. You needed to know exactly where the phasilion was, and it needed to approve of you. Phasilions were both gates and gatekeepers. While some were malevolent and invite people in only to deposit them in the middle of a flesh eating troll’s lair, most were cautious about letting humans through. Luckily, the phasilion behind the Children’s Museum likes me.

The phasilion looked like another part of the building, to the left of a dumpster. But if you looked really hard, you could see very subtle movement within the bricks, like specks floating across their surface. I gently placed my hand on the surface and closed my eyes.

“Vincent Corinthos,” a gentle female voice said. “Back so soon?”

“I need to do some searching, Aviorla,” I replied. “One of the Bright Side’s sons has gone missing, and I need to learn more about him.”

“Of course,” the phasilion replied. “Shall I take you to the Urisk?” I nodded. “Safe passage and peace to you, God of the Urisk.” A portal opened in the wall and I stepped through into a pocket of pale yellow light. I closed my eyes and was swallowed by a strong sense of vertigo. The first time Lotholio had brought me through Aviorla, I’d thrown up everything I’d ever eaten in my life. Even after years of going back and forth between realms, I felt a little woozy.

There was a change in pressure around me and I opened my eyes. Another portal had opened before me, Aviorla’s exit. Through it I could see the bright purple sky of Bright Side. I stepped through and stood before the church Lotholio and my other followers had built. It was a spiraling tower that stretched a hundred feet into the air. Despite the fact that it stood in full sunlight, the white stone that comprised the tower was always cool, and the whole thing looked like it was carved from a single rock.

I pushed open the doors to the tower and stepped inside. Lotholio stood in the foyer of the building, speaking with some of his priests. They turned at the sound of my entrance, and their glowing eyes all brightened from top to bottom. Surprise. They immediately fell to their knees, eyes lowered.

“Rise,” I said. This part has always made me a little uncomfortable. Even after all this time, it was hard to get used to people bowing and scraping before me. I gave them all a blessing, easing their tensions, restoring their strength. They stood, their scrawny gray bodies clad only in the green and blue stoles that marked them as priests. I looked at Lotholio. “Do you vouch for these men’s faith, Lotholio?”

“Yes, Lord,” he replied, nodding his feather-topped head.

“Good. One of the Bright Side has gone missing, and I need men of strong faith to aid me in my search.”

“We will send scouting parties out immediately,” said one of the priests.

I smiled at him. “Thank you, but that isn’t what I need right now. The four of you kindly go to the upstairs ritual chamber.” They bowed and hastened toward a stairwell. Lotholio turned to me.

“Lord, what do you plan?”

“I think something bad has happened to a Tuatha de Danann named Seamus McElery. I’m going to try the rite of Shallar.” Lotholio nodded and we went upstairs. The ritual chamber was twenty feet across, with a basin of water at the center. I say basin, but it’s about the size of a kiddie pool. The room was lit by glowing stones, and the white floors and walls were completely unadorned. I told the priests and Lotholio to sit around the pool while I removed my shoes and socks and rolled up my pants. I stepped into the pool and waded to its center. The lukewarm water barely came up to my calves.

I looked to my priests. “Begin the prayers of Shallar,” I said. They closed their eyes and began to chant. Lotholio and I developed Shallar shortly after the Urisk began worshipping me. This ritual lets me see anything that ever happened in the world. It let me learn more about the Bright Side quickly, and better understand its people. I got the idea for it from my Glimpse, but unlike Glimpses, I can control what Shallar shows me. The downside is that it requires five Urisk chanting to me for the duration. Once they stopped, Shallar was over.

I concentrated on the image of Seamus that Galahad had shown me, and I saw a younger version of the fae in a small village. I followed him for a time, then sped the vision up. Seamus grew, aged, married, had children, and those children moved on. One night, Seamus’s wife was killed in a troll attack. Determined to take revenge, he sought out the troll’s cave. What he didn’t realize was the entrance was guarded by a phasilion, and the gateway transported him to my world. Seamus stared at a model T Ford that was chugging down an old Boston road.

At this point, the images Shallar granted me became fuzzy, and the vision slipped. I ground my teeth in resolve and clenched my fists. Getting Shallar to show me something that happened outside of the Bright Side would take a lot of effort. I willed the pictures in my head back into focus and the vision cleared. Some time had passed. Seamus was older now; he looked like he did in the pictures. The cars on the street around him looked like they were from the sixties or seventies. The vision slipped again, and my nails bit into my palms. I screwed my eyes shut, and sweat ran down my face. The Urisk’s chanting was more like shouting now, and I knew they couldn’t keep this up much longer.

The vision showed what looked like present day. It was nighttime and, going by the marquis of the movie theater Seamus was leaving, it was only a few weeks ago. As Seamus walked past an alley, a chain snapped out from the darkness and wrapped around his ankle. He hit the ground with a grunt and was dragged into the blackness beyond. The vision followed Seamus and I saw a man who looked similar to the one I’d Glimpsed with the Delions. Instead of vines, chains burst from his hands, ensnaring Seamus. Seamus’ skin smoldered wherever the chains touched it; steel and fae do not make a happy combination. As Seamus howled in pain, a pair of short, shimmering forms descended on the fae and began biting him. Green blood rushed from his wounds.

Seamus screamed something in Gaelic and a spear made of light and fire materialized in the air above him. The spear moved of its own accord, stabbing his assailants. The short forms shrieked and fell back. The spear surged forward and impaled the chain man. It punched straight through his chest, then spun in the air and punched through his back. The two holes it left behind were as big as my fist. The chain man fell to the ground. The spear hovered over Seamus and dragged its point through his bonds, snapping them like paper.

The fae stood, but he was woozy. I wondered how much blood he’d lost from the bites that were running along his legs. The vision slipped again, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute. Seamus staggered out of the alley and collapsed on the sidewalk. A woman walking by ran to his side, helped him up and began walking him toward a building called the Hope Clinic. I tried to sharpen the vision, to see more of the woman. She was mid-thirties, maybe, dark hair pulled back in a bun and octagonal glasses. I wanted to see more, but at that moment one of my priests collapsed.

I jumped out of the basin and knelt beside the fallen Urisk. Pale pink blood ran from his nose and his eyes were dim. I placed my hands on the sides of his lumpy head and sent healing waves through him. His breathing eased and the blood vanished. I gently set him back down, then stood and turned to the others. “You have all done well today. I commend your faith and your devotion. See that this man rests and is made comfortable.”

Lotholio had the others gather up the fallen priest and take him to his chamber. Then he stood next to me. “Did you find what you were looking for, Lord?”

I nodded. “I need to go, Loth. Thanks for this.” He bowed, and I made my way back to the phasilion. A large throng of my followers had gathered outside the cathedral, and they all fell to their knees when they saw me. I smiled at them, feeling the warmth of their faith. I sent out a wave of blessings through them, and their eyes sparkled with delight.

I said a final farewell to Lotholio and stepped into Aviorla. When I crossed back into Boston, it was just after seven. I caught a cab back to the office. When I got inside, I found Jake handing over a couple of McDonalds’ bags to Gearstripper. Gears peeked inside his Happy Meal and squealed at whatever toy he found inside. Jake nodded to me and then resumed his position behind the desk.

“Hi, Vinnie,” Gears chirped. “Want a cheeseburger?” I accepted the sandwich as we walked down the hallway. Gears snatched fries from one of the bags and asked, “Is Megan with you?” His ears drooped slightly when I shook my head. “She’s nice. Not as nice as Petra, but she’s nice. Is Petra coming home soon?”

“Tomorrow, actually. She should be back around dinner time.” Gears’ face split into a grin. “She’ll love to see you. Maybe you guys can cook something.” Gears skipped on down the hallway while I ducked into my office. I picked up the phone and dialed.

“Grady,” a rough voice said on the other end of the line.

“Evening, Frank,” I said.

“Mr. Corinthos,” the voice said, suddenly very formal. “How can I help?” Frank Grady was a detective with the Boston PD. About three years ago, his daughter was abducted by shadow men. I got her back unharmed, and Frank’s been an extremely helpful person ever since.

“Two things. First, there was an altercation just outside of the Hope clinic recently, and I’d like to know if anyone reported anything. Second, there are a handful of people in my community who have gone missing. I’m going to fax over some photos to your office. I need you to check if any of them have wound up in the city’s morgues.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Corinthos.”

“Please call me on the usual number if you hear anything.”

“I will.”

“How’s Katrina?”

“Going to her first dance recital tomorrow night,” Grady said, pride in his voice. “She’s very excited.”

I grinned. That little girl was just as charming as they came. “Well, you tell her I said to break a leg.”

“I will, Mr. Corinthos.”

I hung up and took a bite of the cheeseburger Gears had given me. It was cold, but I hadn’t eaten in a while, and food was food. As I licked some ketchup off my fingers, I faxed over the photos. Then I went over to my whiteboard and grabbed a marker. I listed the names of the missing, some notes about what we’d found in New Hampshire, and some of the things I’d seen about Seamus during Shallar.

I capped my marker and stepped back from the board. I stared at it for a moment, hoping that something would click, but I knew I didn’t have enough information yet. I needed more. I glanced at my watch. It was just after eight. Mrs. Rita should be in.

I went to the medical wing and found Mrs. Rita typing away on her keyboard. “Good evening, Vincent,” she said, her Creole accent seeming out of place in her Korean features. I didn’t know how old Mrs. Rita was. I didn’t know her first name. She was not really a doctor or a nurse, she was more like a medicine woman. She had lived everywhere, and had a ton of kids and grandkids, but she looked like she was in her late forties. She and Galahad knew each other from before somehow, but I hadn’t been able to learn much beyond that.

“Evening, Mrs. Rita,” I said. “My new partner and I found a corpse earlier today. Have you had a chance to look at it?”

Mrs. Rita nodded as she shifted her bulky frame in the chair. “That was a gruesome thing you found, Vincent.”

“Could you divine anything?”

She frowned and shook her head. “I searched for aura residue, psychic imprints and a few other things. Nothing. All of nature’s creations should leave some traces behind.” She said the last part softly, almost to herself.

“So the killer did a really good job cleaning up after himself.”

Mrs. Rita pursed her lips. “That, or the killer is not from nature. I did find large amounts of a powerful tranquilizer in her system, though. The machine is analyzing that now,” she said as she gestured to another computer. “Perhaps that will enlighten us. Once it is done, I will put together the rest of my notes and give them to Galahad XI.” She took a sip from the #1 Grandma mug she had on her desk. “I met your new partner earlier this evening, Vincent. Megan seems like a lovely person.”

“She’s perky, that’s for sure,” I said.

“Perky and inquisitive.” Mrs. Rita said. “That one wants to know everything. Galahad is right, she may make a good Care Taker someday.” Mrs. Rita turned back to her terminal. “I do not mean to be rude, Vincent, but I have a lot of work left to do on this, and I still need to analyze those vines you brought in.”