Ethereal Entanglements (7 page)

Inside his room, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Khalil watched Avery punch the wall again and return to frantic pacing.

“You were both tainted. Him for longer?” Khalil nodded toward Avery.

“Yes. What’s happening to us?”

“I don’t have an explanation.” Khalil rubbed his temples. “About a year ago, my mentor’s Phasm tainted me for a few weeks. I was lucky. A witch interfered and saved me. Since then, I’ve had this problem.”

“Great,” Avery snapped. “It doesn’t go away.”

“It does eventually,” Khalil said. “Five past Knights preserved their accounts of being tainted in the library. After reading all five, I’ve come to the conclusion it takes staying at the Palace nonstop for a long time to get over this. That’s why I spend so much time here. To soothe it away. At this point, though, I’m nearly ready to give up. My new wife wants to spend more time with me now that we have a child on the way, and I’m having a hard time justifying a need to return here frequently.”

Justin rubbed his face and tried to think. His anger still simmered, waiting for an excuse to boil over. When it came to Claire, Djembe knew how to rile him up. He couldn’t remember doing anything to Djembe, so he had no idea why the other man insisted upon prodding him. If Claire was the entirety of their dispute, he had no idea how to deal with it, other than advising that she stay away from the Palace. Somehow, he suspected she’d reach that conclusion on her own.

“Being tainted
does
leave a permanent mark,” Justin said with a sigh. “It’s just not one anybody else can see.”

Khalil nodded. “I’ve kept this to myself. It’s hard enough talking about it with my wife, and she was the witch. When I imagine some of our colleagues’ reactions… I’m not ready to handle public shaming for something out of my control. Even if it would help other Knights come forward.”

Picturing Djembe’ s reaction made Justin nod. He rubbed his face again, still working to keep himself under control. “I need to get out of here, but I want to be there for Claire when she gets out of that stupid Ordeal.”

“I remember what it was like when I first returned. Go. I’ll stay and make sure no one pounces on her when she’s done.”

“Thanks.” Justin kept his hands to himself and waited while Khalil ushered Avery out. The moment his door shut, he snatched up his cloak and plunged through the wall to return home. He hit the ground in front of his sycamore and breathed freely. The noise stopped and his anger lifted enough to feel it might have been artificial.

“Welcome back,” Tariel said. She still stood where he’d left her. “I thought you’d be gone longer.”

“It felt like years.” Justin hugged her neck, reveling in her warmth. “If I never have to go back there, it’ll be too soon.”

“I take it the visit went poorly.”

“You could say that.” He breathed in the smell of horse and let it soothe him. “I think I want to take a ride. Marie will be upset with me, but I’m probably not good company right now.”

“Which is the best reason to inflict yourself on me.”

Justin smirked and considered fetching her saddle. Someone might see him on his way to or from the stable, and he’d probably snap at them. He didn’t often ride bareback. Maybe he needed that today—something different and closer to nature, in a manner of speaking. He’d have to face a reckoning when he returned because he’d probably miss part of dinner, but he’d rather let Marie yell at him again than suffer with a memory of shouting at his girls for no reason.

When he gripped a fistful of her mane, Tariel bent her knees for him and he climbed onto her back. She shifted, helping him find his seat, then picked her way through twisted and gnarled roots. Justin reached up and brushed his hand over a branch as they passed his sycamore. This felt like an ending for him.

To an eighteen-year-old runaway kid with a younger pregnant wife and no idea how to handle being a grown-up, the Palace had been a sanctuary. He’d gone there when everything crashed down on his shoulders so hard he didn’t know what to do. The men there, especially Kurt, his mentor, helped him through it. They gave him advice, let him vent safely, and taught him how to avoid turning into his dad.

This time, the Palace had felt like a prison. He fastened his cloak and wondered what purpose that served. Knights who’d been tainted had a unique perspective on Phasms. Their input should be encouraged, he thought. Last week, he’d thought a tainted Knight entered into a pact on purpose out of some evil motivation like revenge. But tainted Knights only made the mistake of not wanting to believe someone they cared about in life would harm or use them in death.

“I’m sorry to interrupt what I can tell is serious thought,” Tariel said, “but where do you want to go?”

He wanted to go anywhere that wouldn’t remind him of the Palace or his job. “I don’t care that much. Not Portland. Otherwise, wherever you feel like.”

“Do you want me to walk so we can talk?”

“Not yet. Maybe some speed will clear my head.”

Tariel launched into a gallop, racing past trees and vaulting over shrubs. Justin had to lean over her neck to avoid low branches and concentrate on not fouling her balance. The demanding simplicity of the run helped him release tension he hadn’t realized he held. They burst through a hedge and onto a two-lane road lined with more hedges and trees. Tariel turned east and ran until the road ended and wilderness began.

She leaped over a stream and turned north to race alongside it. Justin stayed low, his worries melted away in favor of enjoying the ride. They reached a rural road and she pushed herself to her top speed, nearly one hundred miles per hour. Thanks to their bond, Justin felt only a light breeze and he had no concerns about swallowing bugs.

Soon they reached the roads frequented by tourists visiting Mount St. Helens. Tariel dove into the wilderness again. She had to slow to dodge boulders and creeks. They skirted the edges of fenced properties.

On the bank of a shaded stream, Tariel slowed to a walk. Her sides heaved and a sheen of sweat covered her skin. Justin patted her neck and climbed down when she stopped. Both paused to take a drink. He stretched and felt like his thoughts had settled enough to talk things through with Tariel.

“I think—”

Something plowed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. By reflex, Justin rolled to get a grip on his attacker. His assailant turned out to be a medium-sized, brown dog trying desperately to untangle itself and get away. Justin wrestled it down and pinned it in place as a man on a chestnut horse stormed out of the trees.

“No, please let me go,” the dog whined.

“Good catch!” The Native American Knight, dressed in jeans and a navy fleece vest over a blue plaid flannel shirt, held a spear ready. “Long time no see, Justin.” He slid off the back of his horse, ready to run the dog through.

“Hi Charlie. Good to see you.” Justin kept the dog on the ground. He understood its pleading, which made it an ur-phasm. At some point, a corrupted Phasm had created a spirit made of his will and used it to possess a dog. The process destroyed the dog’s mind and turned it into a minion. The presence of one meant a corrupted Phasm in the area, since Justin had never heard of one surviving the death of its Phasm. Then again, Drew still seemed to be possessed, so he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.

“Likewise. We can catch up in a minute, though.” Charlie squatted beside the dog and patted its head too hard to be affectionate. “Who do you work for, spirit?”

“I don’t know,” the ur-phasm wailed. It slumped and stopped struggling.

“You don’t know?” Justin frowned and wrenched the ur-phasm up so he could sit with it in his lap. “What do you mean?” Though it could be lying, his gut said it told the truth.

“You mean you don’t want to say,” Charlie prompted.

“No,” the ur-phasm whined. “I don’t know. There’s no Phasm. I feel something, but I don’t know what it is and I can’t find it!”

Justin and Charlie shared a confused glance. “That’s impossible,” Charlie said.

“That’s what I thought too,” Justin said. “What’s your name?”

“Kay.”

Justin blinked. As far as he knew, ur-phasms usually identified as the first letter of the Phasm’s name. Odds were, this dog had belonged to Kurt. Since kurt was destroyed at dawn this morning, Justin had no idea what to think. Maybe Drew’s possessing spirit had something to do with this.

“Charlie, I need to talk to you. As crazy as it sounds, I think I need to take this ur-phasm with me.”

Chapter 10

Claire

“You’ll need to find a strong ley line,” Iulia said. She draped her arm around Claire’s shoulders and turned her back on the post. “There’s always at least one in any given region. Magic can’t help but gather in pools and streams, just like water. At the minimum, it should appear twice as wide as your waist. The bigger you can find, the better.”

“Where should I look?” Claire glanced back to see Enion and Leeloo trailing them like giant obedient puppies.

“I’m uncertain. In my day, I’d recommend venturing near places known to produce strange creatures. Many, such as dragons, come from an interaction between a normal animal and a ley line. The more monstrous and destructive, the more powerful the ley line that produced it. Subsequent generations tend to lair near a ley line, but not necessarily a strong one. Check where you found Enion, but don’t have high hopes. Dragons are much too pleasant.”

“I need a place known for producing weird?” The entire city of Portland fit that description, so it probably had a strong ley line someplace. “Anything more specific?”

“Concentrations of stories about the strange, bizarre, and otherworldly. Under the influence of a strong ley line, people often hallucinate to a minor degree. They may believe they’ve had deja vu or seen a ghost. There may be a cluster of deaths or major injuries around one. Anything statistically abnormal with no other explanation than luck or fate.”

Claire considered what she knew of the city. A cop could probably point her a few places to look, but she didn’t want to talk to the only cop she knew. The idea of asking Avery for help after he’d done horrible things to her while tainted felt awkward and complicated. She knew Normal Avery didn’t deserve to be held accountable for everything Evil Avery had done, but that didn’t make chatting with him more comfortable.

She set that aside and remembered some of the crazy things classmates had done over the years, going on weird tours of the city. “How about places considered haunted?”

“Yes, try that first. When you find it, you’ll need three things. One, the essence of near death. Two, sharp protection of the spirit. Three, blood of a ghost.”

For a long few beats, Claire stared at Iulia, unamused. “None of those things make any sense.”

Iulia laughed. “Of course not. It’s standard quest pap. Get dirt from the grave of your ancestor. Any ancestor will do. You’ll need enough to cover both hands. The second is a large, clear crystal, at least this big.” She made a circle with her finger and thumb. “And the last is blood from a possessed creature. Any creature is fine. Your sprite will do if that’s your only option, but you’ll need twice as much blood from him. If you can find a possessed creature, you need only enough blood to coat the crystal.

“Go to the ley line, cover your hands in the dirt, coat the crystal in the blood, and use both hands to touch crystal to the ley line. Hold it in until it’s gone. That should fill the locket construct with enough power to last you a hundred years. When you kill Caius and destroy the Palace, the locket will switch to using its own reservoir.”

Claire followed along, making mental notes, until the last part. “Whoa. Wait. Back up. Kill Caius? Are you nuts? He can beat me with both hands tied behind his back and his eyes closed.”

“Did you think you could somehow destroy the Palace without getting rid of him? He guards the original seal that you’ll have to break. It’s the keystone of his demesne. He won’t let you reach it. The only way to access it will be through him.”

Everything Iulia said made sense to Claire—impossible and unpleasant, but logical. “You know, I thought you loved him. He made a mural with you as the central figure, and in the memory I saw…you looked like two people in love.”

Iulia raised a brow and crossed her arms. “That self-righteous, egotistical bastard took me from my home and family, used my power, perverted my creations, consigned my children and their descendants to a hellish existence of hunting their own ancestors, and imprisoned me in torment for what was supposed to be eternity because I had the gall to point out he was wrong. He may have fantasized about an adoring wife who hung on his every word, but he never had one.”

For a moment, Claire blinked, then she smirked. “When you put it that way, anything sounds bad.”

Iulia chuckled. “Yes, it does.”

Claire mulled over the instructions and thought it sounded too simple. Not easy, of course. She suspected breaking and entering might be required for the ley line, and dipping the crystal would probably make some major metaphysical crap happen, then killing Caius would take a miracle. But everything was straightforward: get this, take it here, do that.

Before doing any of it, she wanted to talk to someone outside the whole thing. Anne, Marie’s sister, would be a good choice, but only for the part about her locket. As a witch, she should be able to understand all the magic stuff. The moment she figured out Claire intended to destroy the Palace, though, she’d raise the corruption alarm and Justin would get involved. He’d probably lock her in a room and go hunting for the corrupted Phasm he’d never find because Iulia wasn’t a ghost.

That left Marie and her parents, none of whom knew anything about this stuff. And Drew. If anyone understood the difference between magically tainted and not, she thought it would be Drew. Besides, she needed his blood anyway, and he’d want to know why. His ghost might even have some ideas for cheating against Caius.

“I guess I’m ready to get out of here and go home. Any ideas how we do that?”

They’d reached the archway entrance to the awful room. Iulia laid a hand on the stone. “I expect it’s the flush of victorious triumph and pride at completing your quest that gets you out of here.”