Vesik 3 Winter's Demon (9 page)

And then they sang. It was all I could do to stay on my feet. It bore a power and grace and beauty matched only by their slender forms. I shivered in the glory of the music, so insubstantial a thing. I would have thrown myself into the seas for such magnificence as it whispered and pulled at my soul.

Something tickled the back of my brain about that being wrong, but it felt so right.

The lutes quieted and the audience released a collective sigh. An explosion of applause broke the spell, bringing me back to my senses as I focused on the antique beer signs in the dim yellow light. I caught a glimpse of Cassie talking to Zola. Cara was beside them, waving to me from a corner table. A pale man leaned back in the shadows. He nodded to me and I nodded back as I realized it was Vassili, his white hair fiery in the dim orange glow.

One of the women on stage leaned forward with a smile on her face. “Thank you,” echoed quietly around the room from the PA speakers. “We don’t often play Nudd’s Damnation. Thank you.”

Her accent was thick. Spain perhaps? Some blend of Mediterranean countries? I wasn’t sure, but as we moved toward a table in the back and they exited the stage in our direction, her eyes flashed in the spotlights. Ice blue and a crystalline green.

“You’re water witches!” I blurted out unceremoniously. Edgar said something under his breath, shook his head, and started back to the corner table where the group was waiting.

The witches stopped and looked at each other before nodding to me. “That must be him,” they said simultaneously.

The black haired woman extended her hand. “I am Alexandra, Damian.”

I shook her hand and before I could put my arm down the other woman grabbed it. Her eyes were very close to Nixie’s, and though her hair was shorter, it was very much the same otherwise. “I am called Euphemia.”

“Why are you here?” I asked as I tried to think of a casual way to ask the next question. “Are you here to support the queen?”

The raven-haired witch’s face cracked into a huge smile. “A wise phrasing for a dangerous question. I see why she likes you.”

I frowned, which made Alexandra laugh.

“Oh, yes,” she said in agreement.

“What?” I said.

Foster landed on my shoulder. “Hey, clueless, you figure it out yet?”

“They know Nixie, Demon,” Sam said, calling me by my nickname. “You sure that song has worn off?”

I narrowed my eyes at Sam.

“Just saying,” she said.

“We fight,” Euphemia said as she shifted the lute case on her shoulder. “If we wanted, we could have had this entire audience tonight.”

I saw Mike stiffen.

Alexandra reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Peace, burning man. We were told of your exploits with our sister, and we witnessed your actions at Stones River.”

Mike relaxed a fraction and nodded.

“I was there,” Euphemia said. She took a step closer to Mike and whispered in his ear. “I saw you wield the hammer. The forge of Hephaestus is not cold yet.” She planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Mike’s hand flexed around the hammer and I swear his chest swelled up just a little. The ghost we knew only as the little necromancer suddenly appeared beside Mike and glared at the water witch.

“I’d like to shove that flaming hammer right up her—”

Mike burst into laughter and ushered the ghost toward the back of the bar.

The rest of the party started trickling back to the table. I waited until they were gone.

“You were at Stones River with Nixie?”

Euphemia nodded. “I am sorry we could not help your wolves. The man, Carter, and his wife.”

“Maggie,” I said with a small nod.

“They were very brave.”

“Yes, but … it’s complicated,” I said.

Euphemia frowned and then shrugged.

“What was that all about? What you said to Mike, I mean.”

The witches exchanged a look. Alexandra leaned closer to me, the scent of the ocean rolling off her made my heart lurch for Nixie. “He
is
the fallen smith. Do you understand?”

“He’s a god?” I whispered back.

“Once, in ages long past, before his pact with the underworld.”

“Speak no more of this,” Euphemia said. “He is a good man, no matter what he’s been.”

Alexandra started to open her mouth, but Euphemia silenced her with a glance.

“Call if you need us. There are enemies all around you here.”

“How do I call you?” I said.

Euphemia laughed and held out a napkin with a number written in a graceful hand. “Use the phone.”

“Ah. Right.”

I watched them go, bundling up in matching aqua blue parkas. They briefly nodded and waved to a few tables and then took an envelope from the bartender. He held the door for them as they left.

I walked to the back as I took my jacket off. There weren’t any open hooks at the rear coatrack, so I smothered Sam’s with mine and then sat down near one end of the oval table beside Dad and Zola. Sam was flanked by Vassili and Dad with Mike and Zola seated across from them. Edgar was at the opposite end of the table, leaning over and whispering to Vassili. The fairies were all gathered in the center of the table, a miniature version of our own, complete with a tiny flower arrangement.

“Damian, you have to meet my brother,” Cassie said. She waved at another table and a bulky fairy glided over to stand beside her.

“Angus, you already met everyone else, but this is Damian.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Let me give you a proper greeting,” he said. His accent was light, just a hint of Irish left in it. He jumped off the table and flashed into his larger form. My jaw dropped a little as I craned my neck to look up at the behemoth.

He extended his hand with a grin and almost yanked me out of my seat on brute strength alone. Even standing, I still looked up at him. He had to be at least seven and a half feet tall, muscled like a werewolf and armed with two enormous silver-hilted claymores crossed over his back.

All of his armor was silver, not golden like Foster’s and Aideen’s. I’m sure there was some meaning to it, but I couldn’t do more than gawk at the enormous grin on his face. His teeth were sharp. They were far sharper than any fairy I’d met before, and the effect was somewhat unsettling.

“Bartender! Round of the good stuff,” he shouted as he ran his finger in a circle around our table. “Right then,” he said as he flashed back into his normal size. “Enjoy the food, and try to enjoy the company, though I know that’s tough with Cassie around.”

He waved and glided back to another table as Cassie laughed and cursed at him without any real conviction.

“Enough,” Vassili said as he waved Edgar off. “We don’t know who the necromancers all are,
da?
We don’t know who their allies are. We cannot fight what we do not know.”

“They can’t be allies,” Edgar said with a small frown.

“What would you have us do?” Vassili’s voice fell to a whisper again. “Kill the innocent, ‘in case’ they are an enemy?”

“No,” Edgar said, a hard edge to his voice. “That’s not what I meant.”

Dad shifted the bundle leaning against the wall beside him. I was fairly certain it was the cannon Mike had given him. I caught myself moving my hand toward the pepperbox under my arm, and instead redirected it to the innocuous looking hilt at my right hip.

The bartender dropped a tray of dark ale in the center of the table. He leaned over and placed a shot glass filled with a golden liquid in front of Dad. “Thought you might prefer this.”

Dad summoned a smile and a quick nod for the bartender.

“Philip is getting desperate,” Edgar said. “There’s no other reason for him to make a move for the Blessing.”

“Or he makes a distraction,
da?
The wolves have always been good at distraction. A silver wolf in particular.” The table was silent for a breath before Vassili continued. “What will Philip do with such a thing?”

“After Stones River,” Zola said. She closed her eyes and looked away as she took a deep breath. I was surprised to catch a small frown on Edgar’s face, something resembling compassion. “After that,” she said, “he cannot be left alive.”

“Agreed,” Vassili said as we all pulled a glass off the tray. “If he is allowed to live, he will become something more.”

“Something worse,” Mike said before his words dropped off to a near mumble. “We don’t need another crazed half god running around this world.”

Zola flashed Edgar a huge grin.

The Watcher didn’t smile, only gave a slight shake his head.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing, boy,” Zola said. “Just an old joke.”

“Cassie?” Mike said. “Where is the Blessing?”

Vassili glanced around the room, staring down anyone who turned their attention toward us.

“It’s okay,” Cassie said. “We’re safe to talk here. Everyone here knows if they cross us, they cross the king.”

Vassili’s gaze fell on Cassie. “I think there is something you have not told me?”

“She’s Glenn’s niece,” I said.

“Shit,” Vassili said with a grunt. “We are friends,
da?”

Most of the table chuckled. I took a drink of the ale and almost melted. Yeast and hops with a slight sweetness that didn’t turn into a thick syrupy mess. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s good,” Sam said.

“Gulden Draak,” Foster said with a smile. “He did pull up the good stuff.”

“Amazing,” Dad said as he looked at the little shot glass in his hand. He took another sip and set it down.

“So where is the Blessing?” Mike asked.

“It is hidden within the Ways,” Cassie said.

“There are no gateways here,” Mike said. “Boonville and all the surrounding area has been cut off for over a century.” He paused. “Maybe closer to two centuries.”

“There are no unguarded gateways here,” Cara said from beside Cassie. “Rest assured, there are still Ways.”

“Like the path into the Thunderbird’s lair?” I said. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

Cassie walked across the table to Mike and motioned to us all to lean in. “The Blessing is hidden beneath Rivercene. The Guardian there is formidable.”

“Understatement,” Zola muttered.

“Only someone of our bloodline can retrieve it. All others will die.”

“There is always a loophole,” Zola said. “There are men on this earth with power enough to battle the Guardian.”

“Yes,” Cassie said quietly. “But the Guardian watches two paths. There are two gateways beneath Rivercene.”

“The second’s an escape hatch,” Foster said. “Drops you in Hermann. An old German town not far from here. Good wine.”

The little necromancer misted into view behind Sam. “Damian, there are other ghosts at Rivercene looking for you, from the Ghost Pack. They say it’s important and you should just ‘raise your damn Sight.’ They’re kind of annoying sometimes.”

“Tell them we’ll be there soon. I don’t want them wandering around town without us if Philip is here.”

“One’s kind of cute.”

Mike frowned.

“Hey, flame boy, you’re the one who kissed a water witch,” the little ghost snapped. Then she vanished.

“That’s not exactly what happened,” Mike said. His voice was quiet, but the grumble was unmistakable.

“She’s certainly chatty these days,” I said. “So, what do you get a two-century-old ghost as a makeup present?”

Sam leaned across Dad and punched me in the arm. “Leave the poor fire demon alone.”

“It is a strange group that considers a demon in need,” Vassili said. I wasn’t sure he was joking until the corners of his mouth raised just a hair.

A wave of timid laughter circled the table.

“Back to task,” Zola said as the humor faded. “We know where the Blessing is, but do any of us really know what it can do?

Cara cleared her throat. “Even though it’s a modern crafting, it still has many of the same issues as the oldest Fae artifacts.”

“Modern?” I said. “It’s as old as this country.”

Cara snorted. “Yes, it’s modern, child.”

I hesitated, and then asked, “What do you mean by
issues?”

“It can bestow great gifts on its wielder, great things on all who follow them. But if the wielder wishes only the best for his people, and the best for his people is for him to die, then he will die.”

“Fate will fall to favor the wielder in all he endeavors,” Cassie said. “But that is not always what he intends.”

“That’s why it was hammered into Independence Hall,” Aideen said. “The will of the entire country became the wielder. In the hands of one man, well …”

“Yeah,” I said. “Cassie’s told us some horror stories. End of the world and all that.”

Cassie let out a small laugh. “That is very unlikely.”

“End of a civilization?” I said with a cocked eyebrow.

“That is a more reasonable estimate.”

Vassili said something in Russian, and I’m fairly certain it was unpleasant. Edgar took a sip of ale as he watched Vassili.

“Why so quiet, Edgar?” Foster asked. “Seems like five minutes ago you were acting like our leader.”

Edgar glanced at Zola and Vassili, and then turned his gaze on Foster. “I am not the leader here. Protecting the Blessing is our priority. I may have suggestions, but I will not lead you all blindly into this conflict. Vassili is a long-lived and cunning strategist. The vampires will follow him into the Abyss if he asks it of them. The rest of you will follow Zola.”

Foster stared at Edgar, slack-jawed.

“Edgar is wiser than you may think,” Zola said as she gave Foster a tight smile.

“If I give you an order as I would one of my Watchers,” Edgar said, “just know it is in the madness of conflict and I believe it best for our entire group.”

I tapped my fingers on my glass of ale and watched a thin bead of cold water roll down its surface. Edgar sounded downright reasonable, which really made me wonder what made him tick. I knew he’d been betrayed by necromancers in the past, but was that really why he seemed to despise me all these years?

“So why are we here and not in Hermann?” Dad asked. It was a good question.

“Because everything thinks the Blessing is here,” Zola said.

“You mean every
one?”
I asked.