Bone Magic Part 4

I stared at him. "What? No wisecracks? No dirty jokes up your sleeve?" My voice had a bitter edge to it and I realized I was looking for someone to take my anger out on.

The skeleton looked up at me for a moment, then shook his head. Still silent, he returned to his work.

CHAPTER 5.

"So we have to bury the bones first?" Delilah asked.

Morio nodded. "If we don't, they'll just keep infusing her with energy." He stood up, taking the box from Rodney, who had put the jewelry back in the pouch, leaving the bones out. "We need to bury and salt the bones, then sanctify the ground and cast a spell to calm the spirits. I wonder what happened to the rest of the bodies?"

"Other than Sabele, I have no idea." I looked around, not entirely sure I wanted to know. "I just hope that they were dead when Harold chopped off their fingers. Those are pretty severe hack marks and they weren't done with a surgeon's skill. I doubt he'd use anesthesia."

Even as I spoke, I knew the fear they'd felt had fueled the h.e.l.lions-fueled their rituals and their s.a.d.i.s.tic pleasures. And then, without warning, I could hear them. Whispering screams on the wind. Women begging, Please stop, please let me go, please don't hurt me anymore. Please stop, please let me go, please don't hurt me anymore.

"I wish we'd let Menolly kill the whole lot of those p.r.i.c.ks," I said softly. "If they were here now, I'd do it myself."

Delilah shook her head. "Not if I got to them first. I can hear them, too," she said, pale and somber.

Surprised, I glanced up at her. Her eyes were cool, flas.h.i.+ng emerald, and I caught the scent of bonfire smoke that suddenly whipped up around her. Her tattoo-the black crescent scythe on her forehead-flashed with gold specks. The Autumn Lord must be riding her soul today.

We were all changing, evolving into freaks. But if we had to live out on the fringe, at least we were going off the deep end on the right side.

A year earlier, we'd been softer. Now, we were as bloodthirsty as those we fought. What would we be like by the end of the war? Or would we even be alive? My thoughts spiraled into a pit as black as the clouds and I tried to stave off the mood but it was as entrenched as the rain soaking us to the skin.

But even as the water trickled down my face, making my makeup run, I could tell the downpour was letting up. We'd have at least a few minutes free from the deluge.

"Where do we bury the bones?" I looked around for a suitable place. "Does it matter that the land is b.u.t.t-ugly with turmoil from the c.r.a.p that went down here?"

Morio shook his head. "No, because we're going to calm some of that turmoil."

And then I saw it. The perfect place-a yew tree. The tree of eternity, the yew was a sentinel of death and rebirth. As I headed over to examine it, I heard Morio grunt with approval. The evergreen sighed as I knelt beside its gnarled, ancient roots and leaned against the trunk. As I pressed my head to the roughened wood, I felt the tree take a deep breath and shudder ever so lightly.

"We have need for your protection, Ancient One," I whispered, sending my words to dig deep, to touch the roots. One of my abilities as a Moon Witch was that I could talk to plants and herbs, though I tended to steer clear of doing so in the woodlands over here Earthside. There were too many angry plants who feared and distrusted humanity, and anyone who was kin to FBHs. And I was half-human.

"What do you want?" The thought was so strong it almost blew me back, and I glanced up at the tree, half expecting to see a face there. But the burls and knots remained fixed in place.

I rested my hands against the trunk and focused my attention again. "Have you felt the unsettled spirits on this land? The women who were murdered?"

"Yesssssss . . ." The answer was drawn out on the breeze, a long susurration that ruffled my hair.

"We have bones that need to be purified and buried in sanctified ground. May we bury them beneath your branches?"

Part of me didn't want to ask, I wanted to just bury the bones and hope for the best. But the tree might say no. So I decided not to take the chance because if we didn't have permission, we ran the risk of not being able to quiet the ghosts.

I enjoyed communing with herbs and flowers, but tree devas scared the h.e.l.l out of me. They were powerful and old and they had a subtle magic all their own that no one-be they witch or wizard or necromancer-could harness. Only the dryads and floraeds and wood sprites could truly embody the power of the forests.

Morio settled on one knee behind me, but kept his hands to himself. He was proficient enough to know I was in a trance and wouldn't disturb me. After a long, long pause, the yew stirred again.

"Cleanse and bury them and I will keep them safe. But there are other spirits here who still walk the earth, restless and searching. The thread of energy that runs through this land has been awakened and sings strong and vibrant, but off-key, summoning ghosts to journey its length."

The yew fell silent again and I sat back.

"She'll guard them," I said. "But she said there are more spirits around this lot, and she mentioned a thread of energy that's attracting ghosts here. I'm thinking the ley line? We know one connects Harold's house to the Wedgewood Cemetery. The same ley line runs through the Wayfarer-where the portal is-and two of the rogue portals."

Morio stroked his goatee. After a moment, he nodded. "That sounds right, but what do we do about it?"

"We'll figure that out later, but for now, let's get these bones buried while there's a lull in the rain." I motioned to Delilah. "Can you start digging a hole at the base of the tree? Try to position it in the shelter of the roots. Meanwhile, I'll get the salt and Morio-will you set up the candles?"

As I scattered a ring of salt around the yew, Delilah dug away at a hole for the bones. Morio settled a black pillar candle at one side of the hole, a white one at the other.

Rodney, who had been watching us silently, let out a loud huff. "You b.i.t.c.hes forgetting something?"

Great. The jacka.s.s was back in action. "What do you want now?"

"You didn't mix rosemary into the salt. Any necromancer worth his nuts knows you have to mix rosemary into the salt."

Gritting my teeth, I exhaled a thin stream of air as I tried to keep my cool. "For one thing, we aren't necromancers, although we're working death magic-"

"Smart, real smart." He made a dinging sound. "A head-stone for the broad with the high beams!"

I reached over and thunked him one with my forefinger and thumb. "Will you just shut the f.u.c.k up and listen? Rosemary is for summoning summoning. We need sage sage for purification, but only inside the grave. Now keep your mouth shut and let us work." for purification, but only inside the grave. Now keep your mouth shut and let us work."

Rodney gazed at me for a moment and then, with a baleful fire burning in his eye sockets, he started to grow. I stumbled back as he rose to the height of a good-sized man within seconds.

"Holy h.e.l.l!" I stopped as he started toward me. A wreath of fire surrounded him, glowing like a thin nimbus in his aura, burning brightly around his pelvis bones, and he laughed softly. I jumped back a step. A super-sized Rodney was not on my list of must-haves.

"You're one fine b.i.t.c.h, all right, and I'm going to have myself a field day," he said.

I squeaked and went scrambling toward Morio, who looked up from arranging the candles.

"Ooph," Morio grunted as I knocked him over in my haste to get away from the advancing Rodney. He leapt up, stopping short as he took in Rodney's new and not-so-improved size. "What the-knock it off! Enough!" He jumped up and grabbed Rodney's wooden box.

Rodney paused in mid-step. "Oh please, let me have her. Just for an hour. You two are the most kinky pervs I know. Let me play with the Faerie s.l.u.t? Pretty please? You can watch-"

Morio pushed me out of the way and strode over to Rodney. He didn't look happy. "Why didn't you tell us you could grow like that?"

Rodney shrugged. "You never asked."

"How often can you do it?"

"All night long. Want to find out, youkai b.i.t.c.h?" the skeleton said, snorting. "Oh, this." He swept one bony hand over his body. "Like it? The things I can do with these fingers . . ." At Morio's scowl, he cleared his throat and said, "Okay, okay. When I'm recharged enough, I can hold this size for an hour or two. Then I revert."

"Good enough. Now get your a.s.s back in the box." Morio held out Rodney's home. "Or I'll take you apart bone by bone."

Rodney sounded aggrieved. "Don't be that way-"

"Now." Morio's voice was too calm. Apparently, Rodney thought so, too, because, without another word, he shrank to his normal size and climbed in the box. Morio slapped the lid shut and stared at the box. "Motherf.u.c.king piece of trash. Where the h.e.l.l did Grandmother Coyote get this thing?" He slid it into his bag and turned back to me. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but don't ever leave me alone with him when he's off his leash, okay?" The thought of being at Rodney's mercy, especially when he was my size, was too nauseating to consider.

Delilah was staring at the two of us like we were crazy. "I feel like I'm watching some bad B-grade horror flick. I'd like to know just what you guys have been up to over the past two months."

Grinning, I started to speak but she hastily waved me away.

"On the other hand, don't bother. You might give me night-mares."

I shook my head. "Let's get on with it, or it will be night before we're done and the goshanti will be out and about."

"So why can't Chase come in here during the day since she's at rest?" Delilah asked.

Morio fielded that one. "Because even if the goshanti is asleep, there's still the chance she'll wake up. Or that there are other spirits here with her. Sometimes they run in packs with other creatures from the Netherworld."

I stared at him. "You didn't tell me that."

"You didn't ask," he said, grinning.

While Delilah finished digging the hole, I ringed the yew with salt and then prepared a cup of salt for the grave, mixing in a generous dose of sage and, for good measure, I added a few of the yew needles.

As I took out my dagger and sat on the wet ground in the lotus position, Morio knelt behind me, his hands on my shoulders. I could feel the warmth of his hands through the chill that enveloped my skin, and it traveled down through my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down into my stomach.

When his energy hit my tailbone, it merged with my own and I felt our conjoined essences begin to rise, to cycle through both of us-through me, into his hands, through him, into the earth, then they were spiraling through dirt and soil and rock to root deeply within my legs and travel up through my tailbone again. A circle-a Mobius strip of power, we were joined by both magic and soul.

Since we'd undergone the Soul Symbiont ritual, our rituals had become stronger. Now, we seldom needed words to know what the other was going to do. Morio couldn't reinforce my Moon magic-that came from the Moon Mother herself and was solely mine, and he couldn't strengthen my work with the unicorn horn, as far as I knew. But the death magic had taken on a force of its own and together we were far more powerful than either of us alone.

As the magic cycled through our bodies, I began to force it outward, to send a ripple of energy out to encircle the yew tree, to ride on the wind and soak into the very land. Morio backed me up and the ripple became a cleansing wave as he fed me the energy and I directed it. The wave splashed over the aching souls and wounded bones and I heard a chorus of cries begging for release.

Inhale deeply . . . another long breath as Morio infuses me with the power to guide the spirits to their path . . .

Exhale slowly, as the magic reaches out to scatter the souls, to free them from their shackles to the bones . . .

Inhale again . . . the energy flares and everything within the circle s.h.i.+nes with a brilliant golden light. So many people think white is the color of purity but white is the color of death. Gold purifies, silver protects . . .

And exhale . . . feel the souls fleeing the land, racing off to rest and return to their ancestors. The anguish is diminis.h.i.+ng . . . and there-there is the goshanti, asleep, for it is her time to sleep, but she knows something's wrong and seeks to wake . . .

"Camille! Camille! Snap out of it. We have to hurry," Morio said, shaking my shoulders.

I blinked, the vibrant colors of the magic blinding me until they settled into the surrounding area, sinking into the land without so much as a whisper. The yew tree let out a long, contented sigh and I quickly poured the sage and salt mixture over the bones. Then, Morio, Delilah, and I stood beside the tiny grave and chanted the litany for the dead.

"What was life has crumbled. What was form now falls away. Mortal chains unbind, and the soul is lifted free. May you find your way to the ancestors. May you find your path to the G.o.ds. May your bravery and courage be remembered in song and story. May your parents be proud, and may your children carry your birthright. Sleep, and wander no more."

When we were done, there was another soft hush as a gust of wind rushed by and carried the last vestiges of the souls to their destiny. I arched my back and watched as Delilah filled in the hole and we drew a binding rune on top, that nothing might disturb their slumber.

"Now, we take care of the goshanti," Morio said. He motioned to me and I picked up the bag of salt. "Delilah, would you keep watch for us? Stand right at the edge of the sidewalk."

She took her place and I glanced at Morio. He nodded, and I began to slowly circle the lot, casting handfuls of salt to form a ring of white, a circle of clarity. The salt sizzled as it hit the ground, smoking in some places. The land was hot with turbulence. I closed my eyes, guiding the energy that trailed from my body to form a barrier left in my wake that s.h.i.+mmered and glistened. It, too, was white-white and red. Death and power.

And then, I came back to the beginning and Morio met me, escorting me into the center. I would be the focal point, the lens, and he would use me to focus the energy. I went down on my knees, arms spread out to the side. Morio stood behind me, legs firmly planted to either side of me, his hands raised to the sky. I waited, feeling for the energy, and there it was-the cord spiraling from him to me. Attaching to my aura, the cord slid into place and I s.h.i.+vered, antic.i.p.ating the flow of power to come.

Death magic was sensual, pa.s.sionate, addictive, and yet the process was cool and aloof, taking us to the edge of that stark barrier through which every mortal creature eventually had to pa.s.s. Even the G.o.ds died, at some point. As Morio and I merged into the same channel, I gasped and my head dropped back. I could feel him, alert, magnificent in his pose.

He wavered for a moment and then-as quickly as the energy caught us up-it grounded us deep into the shadows of the trees, the shadows of life, and we were walking on the outskirts of the Netherworld, between realms, in the wash of spirits that pa.s.sed by us silently. They did not see us, nor did they realize we had slipped into their domain.

I inhaled, letting Morio lead me. He grabbed the threads of magic that ran rife at the gates to the Netherworld and whispered something, and then they were attached to him, and through him-attached to me. We were ready.

"Open your eyes," he said softly.

I opened my eyes. The lot had taken on a vastly different look. Everywhere I looked, I could see by their auras which plants were dying, and which were thriving. I could feel the bones we'd planted at the base of the yew tree. I could see the aura of the yew itself, glowing like the Blue Light Special at Kmart. And I could see the blood that had fed this ground-long ago soaking deep and drying, but still here, still attached to the land.

"Do you see?" Morio asked.

"I see."

"Then seek the goshanti." His arms were still raised above his head. Mine were wide at my sides still, and I directed the energy to spread from my fingertips, to search and find the devil. It trailed out like smoke, swirling through the trees, seeking, probing, searching for the signature of the goshanti.

Like a mist, the vapor carried my vision with it and through a haze I could see a cat hiding under a fern, a garter snake gliding through the foliage, insects and birds looking for food. And then, the mist stopped in a patch of Scotch broom. There. Behind the thick-branched weeds. The swirl of color that marked the goshanti. During the day she showed as a ball of energy, at night she could take form.

"Found her," I whispered. "Use me."

Morio drew on the threads from the Netherworld, mixing the energy and binding it to his own, forming the spell to send the devil back to the realm from which she'd come. The power darted along the cords, sparkling like lights. Morio swayed to the music of the realm that pulsated along with the magic. As it hit his hands, he channeled it down through me, sweeping his arms down to fasten his grasp on my shoulders.

The sudden flush caught me up in the dance. Together we soared in the astral, our bodies still firmly grounded Earthside. We spun around each other, mating snakes entwining. Morio laughed, throaty and raw, and his joy raced out to include me. The power of the dead, the power of that dark realm was so much more so much more than it appeared. A fire raced through my body, sending me into an o.r.g.a.s.m. than it appeared. A fire raced through my body, sending me into an o.r.g.a.s.m.

Morio stroked my chin and whispered, "I love you. I love you more than I love life, Camille."

I traced his lips. "You are one of my chosen," I said, feeling his tongue curl around my finger. "You are one of my great loves and we'll always be together. We're bound for eternity, my youkai, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat. And when it's our turn to cross over, we'll pound down these gates together, and you will enter the Land of the Silver Falls with me."

"We should take care of the goshanti," he said, his thoughts curling around me like a warm embrace.

"Use me, direct me, guide me." I reluctantly turned back to the land, wanting nothing more than to hang out on the astral. But we had work to do.

As we settled into the rhythm of the energy, Morio tapped me on the shoulder and I stood, guiding him toward the goshanti. I could barely see the land around me, the colors were so brilliant and amplified. There was a definite disconnect between my feet and my mind, but Morio steadied me. Something slithered over my shoes but it was just a snake, and I paid no attention.

And then we were there, next to the goshanti. She was asleep, and in her slumber I felt sorry for her. I could see how she'd come to be born. Her body, her essence, was a swirl of pain, of anger, of heartbreak and torture. Tears began to slide down my cheeks as I watched her, curled in a ball like a cat.

"You poor thing," I whispered. "The world can be so f.u.c.ked up, and you're just as much a victim as those you prey on."

Morio squeezed my shoulder in agreement. "We have no choice, Camille. She'll hurt other innocents if we leave her be. When we send her back to the Netherworld, she'll be with others of her own kind."

"Can't we kill her? Put her out of her misery? It's no life, to live in hatred and bitterness like this. No matter where you are."

I didn't like hearing myself talk like this, but if it were me, I'd rather be dead than live my life a sh.e.l.l, acting out of pain condensed drop by drop from women who'd succ.u.mbed to horrendous deaths.

With a slow sigh, Morio nodded. "We can. Are you sure?"