Wolves and the River of Stone (9 page)

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Authors: Eric Asher

Tags: #vampires, #necromancer, #fairies, #civil war, #demons, #fairy, #vesik

BOOK: Wolves and the River of Stone
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“Where the hell do you find something like that?”

“Ah know people,” she said with a smirk as she closed the book. I was surprised to see the runes for preservation and longevity carved into the back cover. I reached a hand out to the cover and Zola slapped it away.

“Respect the archive’s rules. No gloves, no touch. Ah don’t care if the book’s warded to survive an open flame. Put the gloves on.”

I chuckled and put my hands under the table. “How old are those?”

“Older than they should be. These runes shouldn’t have existed 10,000 years ago.” Zola frowned. “Ah’ve never seen Magrasnetto worked into a cover to build a ward before. It is brilliant. The book is nearly indestructible.”

“But I can’t touch it?”

Zola raised an eyebrow and glared at me. “No matter how indestructible something is, you seem quite capable of making bad things happen to it.”

“I do alright with the shop, and my library.”

“Other peoples’ things,” Zola said, half question, half statement.

I shrugged. “So what is the Devil’s Forge?”

“It is a place of great geologic power and fire. The forge can be found many places on earth.”

I raised my eyebrows. “A volcano?” She nodded and I squeaked, “A
volcano!?”

“Finding a volcano is easy enough, but Ah must consult with Aeros about the hammer.”

“Aeros would know?”

“If he’s been honest with me, he had it in his possession once.”

“I think I’m done. My head’s starting to hurt. Let’s get some lunch before we go to the shop.”

“That is an excellent idea, boy.” She smiled as she stood up, grabbed her knobby old cane, and led me to the archive’s door. “There is still the other fact Ah learned in the book.”

“What’s that?” I said as we walked down the aisle of ancient literature.

“Philip may not need you to resurrect Prosperine.”

“Oh, right. Happy days.”

“Ah found a passage detailing the use of a soulstone to release a demon into our plane.”

“Is that something Philip would know?”

“Ah don’t think so, because Ah didn’t know it ... but it is always possible. Philip has always been more interested in the Black Arts, and this skill is questionable at best. He could use you as a distraction.”

“A decoy,” I said.

“Yes, to keep our attention away from his true goal. Ah don’t think that’s the case, but we should be wary. Do you want to know what is truly frightening?”

“Sure, why not, I get too much sleep as it is.” I stopped with my hand on the door to the archive.

Zola glanced up at me. “The book says that with a large enough soulstone you can awaken an old god onto our plane.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, and it is a simple process.”

“Someone would have to be completely insane to do that. The wrong god could tear our planet in half and devour the sun.”

“Some of the old gods could devour the galaxy, Damian.”

I shuddered and opened the door. We walked out of the archive and down the hallway. The locks clicked home behind us.

Vik was sitting on the bench when we descended the stairs to the entryway. “Did you tell him?”

Zola nodded and Vik visibly relaxed.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me?”

“He knows you don’t like hearing about Camazotz and demons. He was worried Ah’d keep it from you.” She patted my cheek and said, “Have to protect those delicate sensibilities.”

I quirked an eyebrow as Vik laughed and turned to me.

“I have no wish to keep secrets from you. You ...” he looked away for a moment, “I trust you, Damian. I want you to do the same.”

“I do Vik, even if I didn’t know you, you have Sam’s stamp of approval and she’s a real bitch about shit like that.”

Zola snorted a laugh and gave Vik a hug before we left.

“Let me know what you’re doing?” he said.

“We will,” Zola said.

“Good, I wish to help in any way I can. Vassili knows we owe you a debt for last year.”

“Eh, what’s one dead demon?” I said. “It’s no problem.”

Vik smiled, and it was the first full smile I’d seen on his face since Devon tried to kill everyone he knew.

CHAPTER 9
 

 

I
opened Zola’s door for her when we got to the driveway. The sun was much higher and the morning dew that had covered everything when I’d arrived was almost gone. I had to squint in the burst of daylight. Zola climbed in and closed the door while I made my way around Vicky on the asphalt drive. I noticed a smattering of sap across the roof from the nearby evergreens and grumbled about needing to wash the car again.

“Open up the glove box and tell me what you think,” I said as we pulled onto the road. “I picked something up for Nixie.”

“You’re smitten with a water witch. Unbelievable.” I caught a smile out of the corner of my eye as she opened the glove box and pulled out the small package.

“I got it from Ashley this morning.”

She slid the top off and I heard a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, Damian. This must have cost a fortune.”

“Really?” I said, sincerely curious.

“I’ve never seen blue obsidian so thin and clear before.” She pushed on the center of one disc a little with her thumb. “It feels heavy, very strong, but very clear.” She turned the bracelet through her hands and shook her head. “It’s a beautiful gift.”

“You don’t think it’s overkill?” I said.

“Perhaps, but you are taking a water witch to dinner. She is likely accustomed to sunken ships and drowned men on a first date.”

“When you put it like that,” I said with a grimace.

Zola laughed as she put the bracelet away. “Ah don’t know of any etiquette when it comes to gifts for a water witch. Ah would be surprised if Nixie didn’t appreciate the gesture.”

I tried hard to wipe the stupid grin off my face, but it was stuck for the rest of the drive to Saint Charles.

 

***

 

We came to a grinding halt on the cobblestones of Main Street behind an enormous string of traffic. I groaned and bashed my head on the steering wheel. “What the hell is
this
mess?”

“It’s Saturday morning.”

I turned my head without lifting it from the steering wheel and said, “It is? Crap, you’re right.” Saturdays saw Main Street transformed into a throng of tourists and shoppers. With stop signs on every block and a sea of pedestrians, the mass of cars and SUVs slowed to a crawl. My gaze traveled past Zola and honed in on the fudge shop. “Ooo, breakfast.”

“What?” She turned her head toward the storefronts. “Aideen will kill you if you get fudge for Foster.”

“Not if I get her Irish crème fudge too.” I pulled the car a little closer to the curb, not close enough to actually be parked, and leapt out to the sounds of shoppers, cars, and the faint smell of the Missouri River on the breeze. No customers were in the shop and the clerk’s eyes widened when I shouted out my order, slapped some money on the counter, and ran back out the door the instant she handed me a three-pound bag. I heard a faint “Thank you,” as the door closed behind me and I waved the bag in the air.

I slammed the car door and pulled right back into the traffic I’d just left. “Hold on, I’m going to take the back way.” We pulled left at the stop sign and cut across Second Street to the alley that ran straight to the parking lot behind the shop.

“That was certainly faster than waiting,” Zola said. “If Ah didn’t know better, Ah’d think you drove into traffic just to get fudge.” Zola raised her eyebrows, wrinkling her forehead, and stared at me.

“I’m just not a morning person, that’s all,” I said as I turned the car off and opened the door. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Whatever you say, boy.” She closed the car door and walked up to the back of the shop.

I unlocked the door set in the expanse of brickwork with a key and a swift kick to the second lock’s gargoyle-like face, and cracked it open. “It’s Damian and Zola!” I shouted before I stepped inside.

“You can never be too careful with fairies around,” Zola said.

“And cu siths,” I complained without any real conviction. A moment later a black nose attached to a green blur muscled its way through the door, almost knocking me down in the process.

Zola’s voice took on the baby talk tone some people get around pets as she crouched down and ruffled the fur of Peanut’s back. Bubbles came bounding out to join them. Peanut rewarded her with a facial exfoliation by tongue. Zola was smiling when she stood up, dripping slobber.

“Would you like a towel?” I said a split second before Bubbles yipped and launched herself at my chest. I stumbled and fell backwards into the shop, never relinquishing my hold on the fudge, as the sizable cu sith bounded off my chest and over me before I’d settled on the ground. “Ow,” I muttered with my head on the floor.

I heard hysterical fairy laughter mixed with a more melodic sound. I rolled my eyes up and found Nixie smirking at me. She wore a miniskirt that barely peeked out beyond the edge of her hair and a summer sweater with a plunging neckline. My eyes trailed from her hair to her legs before Foster cleared his throat, which made for an odd sound while he was still laughing.

Peanut walked in casually, leading Zola. I was impressed and appreciative of the fact he took care not to step on me. Zola was smiling when she offered me a hand and pulled me off the ground. “Thanks.”

I turned back around and held up the bag. “Hey Foster, I got you some peanut butter fudge.”

“Oh, god. Fudge!” He jumped off the table and flew around the bag as I set it down.

Aideen shook her head and said, “Damian, I cannot believe you bought him fudge again when-”

I reached in the bag and pulled out the block of Irish crème fudge for Aideen and set it in front of her.

“Oh, god. Fudge!” she clapped her hands together and sliced the cellophane open with her sword even faster than Foster. “I’ll let it go this once,” she said in a small voice.

“Check this out, Mom,” I said as I set a small block of Irish whiskey fudge in front of Cara.

“Fudge and whiskey,” she said. “Someone is a genius in that shop. Thank you.”

I pulled out a block of chocolate caramel fudge for Zola and me to share. Zola snatched it up and started unwrapping it as soon as it hit the table.

“I’ve never had fudge,” Nixie said.

Foster’s forehead wrinkled as his eyes widened, his mouth falling open in horror.
“Never?”

She shook her head. “I had chocolate once, I think. That’s what a cocoa bean is, right? I didn’t like it very much, too bitter and grainy.” She ran her tongue over her teeth like she was trying to spit out a bad taste.

“Nixie,” Zola said. She waited for the water witch to look at her. “Are you telling us you’ve never had chocolate?”

She shrugged like it was no big thing.

“Cut a piece of that off for her,” I said.

Zola ran a white plastic knife down the edge of the block and handed the resulting sliver to me. Bubbles gave me a forlorn look, tracking the fudge as it moved from Zola to me. I broke off a little edge and tasted it. It was a great batch, smooth and creamy with some slightly hardened caramel. “Taste this.”

Nixie sniffed the sliver of fudge, jerked it away from her nose, and stared at it. “That smells good.” She took a bite and her eyes widened. She crammed the rest into her mouth at once with a slurp and her shoulders sagged. “Oh, oh my.” She closed her eyes and put a hand over her stomach as she melted into a chair. Her eyes opened slowly before she said, “I understand now. That
is
better than sex, Aideen!”

“Well then, no more fudge for you,” I said.

Nixie and the fairies laughed as Zola slapped my arm. “You’re terrible, boy.”

“Only on weekends.” I grinned as I swiped the slice of fudge Zola was cutting and handed half to Nixie.

She nibbled the second piece slowly, making all kinds of noise as she whittled it down.

“Better than sex?” Foster said to Aideen as he cut off a chunk as big as his head.

She took a slow bite and gave him a wicked grin.

I finally held up my hand before he took another bite. “Whoa now, we need to talk before you go crazy on me.”

He nodded and took a bite of peanut butter fudge. “We should probably talk soon then.”

I shook my head and pulled out a chair at the Formica table. Nixie took the seat closest to the back door, I took the chair closest to the front, and Zola sat between us with her back to the grandfather clock. The fairies each sat down, legs folded beside their blocks of fudge. As soon as I sat down, I jumped back to my feet.

“Maybe I should open the shop, huh?”

“Maybe you should,” Foster said. “All those people pounding on the door might break it down.”

“Ha ha ha,” I said as I ran to the front, changed the sign to open, and unlocked the door. I flipped the lights on for the front of the shop as I walked past the switch by the back room’s door.

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