G.H.O.S.T. Teams: Book 1 - Magic (27 page)

BOOK: G.H.O.S.T. Teams: Book 1 - Magic
7.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Anything else I should know?” I asked.

He started to shake his head no, but then he seemed to remember something and tried to speak again. His voice was quiet and weak.

“Said those who serve the Lady shall be rewarded,” he trailed off.

A few more weak coughs caused him to lower his head as if he was focusing on staying alive. His eyes were closed and each breath was a struggle.

At that point the stable boy came into view, tugging on the arm of a priest with all his might. It was clear that he understood the urgency of my request. I tossed the small pouch of money to the boy and thanked him. The priest in front of me was over six-feet tall and wore a long dark blue robe, tattered at the bottom from much traveling. He was super skinny, with light pink skin and a snout nose like a pig. His hands consisted of a thumb and two fingers, each of which ended in a wide black nail. Small and friendly eyes met mine as he smiled. He looked me up and down once before snorting and speaking in a soft voice.

“I see that you are injured my son, may I be of assistance?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure why he thought that I needed assistance until I looked my self over. I had a dozen superficial wounds and a nice new gash on my right shoulder. One of the downsides to fighting people with blades is the number of incidental cuts that happen during the fight. I hadn’t even realized how many times I had been nicked. But there wasn’t time to worry about that now, so I quickly shook my head and waved him off.

“I’m fine.”

“Then how may I be of assistance, child?” he responded.

There were enough wrinkles on his face that I figured he was at least twice my age, so I let the child comment go. Saber’s health probably couldn’t wait for my usual banter. I simply gave him a friendly smile as I spoke.

“An elf is seriously injured in the barn,” I started.

The priest didn’t even wait for me to finish talking before he sprinted into the stables. He glanced at the headless stiff as he passed, but clearly his focus was on the wounded man. I handed my horse off to Visine before following the priest back. He crouched down and gently placed his hand on the forehead of the elf.

“Will he make it?” I asked.

“Maybe,” he replied.

“I can’t have him following me.”

The priest gave me a sharp look before returning his attention to the elf as he spoke.

“Should my humble gifts be enough to save him, I do not think that he will be moving for quite some time,” he said.

I nodded my head in understanding and pulled the pouch of money out. I tossed it down on the ground next to the priest.

“Please accept this as payment for your services. Good luck,” I said.

The priest nodded and began chanting in some language that I had never heard before. Having done all that I could, I rushed back to my horse. Visine was already mounted on his Clydesdale and the stable boy was holding my steed ready. I jumped up into the saddle and did my best to ignore the pain from the ever-growing number of wounds upon my body.
 

“To the arch,” I hollered.

Visine shook his head and started riding down the road. I followed his lead and waved goodbye to the stable boy.

“Take care, kid,” I said as I rode off.

Chapter 23

 

Visine and I were riding along at a good pace. Unlike our previous road, Lewey’s Lane was very heavily traveled. Hard packed earth interlaced with well-worn wagon wheel tracks comprised its surface. Trees, shrubs, and fenced in farmland forced us to stay on the street proper as we moved. The road was teeming with carts, horses, and foot traffic heading in each direction. Unfortunately, in the interest of safety to other travelers, we were riding at a much slower pace than I would have liked.
 

Visine handled his horse like a pro. Even with one arm in a sling his ease in the saddle made it clear that he had a great deal of experience on horseback. I on the other hand was mostly faking it. When I was a teenager I went riding a handful of times with my father. But that felt like a lifetime ago. So now I was counting on my natural athleticism to keep my butt from getting tossed out of the saddle. All the while hoping that somewhere deep down those equestrian skills were still with me, just like riding a bike.

While our slower pace did seem to make the bumps of the road lighter, it didn’t remove them all together. I was bouncing about in my saddle, each movement a subtle reminder of the bruises covering my body. On the plus side, the slower speed did make conversing possible. I figured that talking with Visine might help take my mind off of my wounds.

“According to Tovaan they have about an hour head start on us. How long do you think it will take us to reach the arch?”

“Fifteen minutes. Longer if you fall off that thing,” he grinned.

“Hey, it’s been a few years. Give a ninja a break.”

He gave a little chuckle and our conversation had to pause as we rode around a farm cart and a few horsemen heading in the opposite direction. The road was congested for a bit and it wasn’t until we made our way around a large merchant cart that we could continue our chat.

“So the dark elf said that they were on the lookout for outlanders. Between that and the setup at the bird sanctuary, I guess it’s safe to say that they know the GHOSTs are after them.”

“A fair assumption,” he agreed.

“We also confirmed that the orbus is used to focus energy. Even though Tovaan didn’t seem to know what kind, Kara mentioned something about spiritual energy. The dark elf said something about the Lady returning. I’m starting to think that the Servant of the Lady intends to bring back the Lady, whoever she is. And the orbus is the key,” I said.

“My conclusion as well,” he said.

“Maybe this will help us narrow down who the Lady is. You mentioned earlier that the followers of the Fae were most likely behind this. Is there some big Fae lady who they might be referring too? Someone they might want to bring back?”

He couldn’t contain his laughter, “There are thousands of stories about powerful Fae women. We would need much more than that to even hazard a guess,” he replied.

I hesitated a moment before making my next comment. I didn’t like reminding him of his loss, but we had to look at all the clues.

“Well, we do have one more piece of that puzzle,” I said with a frown.

Visine’s jaw tightened and he nodded his head in agreement.
 

“They were targeting your band of friends. Obviously you are the key,” I said.

“I know,” he growled.

A few obstacles in the road brought a well-timed break to the conversation. We dodged pedestrians, carts, and horses again as we continued on our path. Once the road cleared enough for us to talk, I figured Visine might have something else to say. But staying true to his character he remained silent and kept his focus on the road ahead. Obviously staying quiet is not in my nature.

“Are you sure that you don’t remember anything? Some link you overlooked.”

“Nothing helpful. But my memory only goes back as far as the Great War,” he stated.

I could hear the frustration building in his voice. The answer was probably in his missing memories. He had lived the last ninety years without even knowing who he was. It was enough to drive most men mad. I wondered if Danny would have been able to look into Visine’s mind and see past the fog of amnesia. Of course the kid would have to come out of his comma first. And I didn’t think that Visine was likely to let him root around inside of his head anyway. People like us, with violent pasts, often do everything that we can in order to hide our dark secrets from the world.

“Dirk knew who you were. He never even gave you a hint as to your past?” I questioned.
 

He gave me one of his ever-expressive looks. The look made it clear that he thought my question was stupid and that obviously he has searched for hints. I didn’t let it deter me though. I find that talking out loud is the best way to get my mind working.

“He claimed that he wanted to protect you. As if your ignorance somehow kept you hidden from danger. But he had to know there was a chance that you would be the last one. Which would make it impossible for you to learn about your past unless he left you some clue or a note or something,” I rambled.

Visine sat up straighter in his saddle and a small smile crossed his face. I could see the gears turning in his head.

“Maybe something on the body?” he asked rhetorically.

“Maybe? I’m sure it’s back at HQ. But what are you hoping to find?”

“Dirk loved puzzles. I think you’re right, he would have left me a clue,” Visine smiled.

“I’m sure the bad guys searched him. Don’t you think that they would have found anything that might lead you to them?”

“Dirk was careful,” he stated.

There was nothing more to say, as it was clear that Visine believed in his friend. If the chance of finding some miracle clue on Dirk’s body gave him hope then who was I to take that away. I figured we could also use the opportunity to check in with Kara and see what the team had learned since our last talk. The idea of riding horses through DC in order to get back to HQ didn’t sound very appealing however.

“Hey, where does this Stone Arch thing let us out? Because unless we wanna ride these horses back to base I need to let Vlad know where to pick us up,” I said.

“It opens underground, in the Goblin Market,” he replied.

“Oh, good, the Goblin Market. And where is the Goblin Market?”

“Where else would you hide supernatural commerce, Union Station,” he said.

“Of course,” I mocked, “Do you think I can call Vlad from here?”

“One way to find out,” he said.

I thought about the feel of the leather band on my left wrist and focused my mind on Vlad.

“Hey pal, can you hear me?”

There was a long silence so I tried again.

“Vlad, do you read me?”

There was a subtle tugging at the back of my mind. It got stronger and stronger until I finally heard his voice. It was faint and sounded distant even though it was coming from inside of my head.


Sorry Boss, little bit of a lag. Long distance phone calls, you understand
,” he quipped.

“Then I’ll be brief. We are coming out at Union Station. I need you there, ASAP.”

Another lag and then I heard, “
Copy Boss, Vlad out.”

The connection did not sever right away as per usual. It faded slowly as if gradually uncoiling from my mind. I chalked that weird sensation up to the nature of long distance calls through the spirit realm. After dodging a bit more road traffic, Visine and I were able to speak again.

“Maybe they’ll get held up at customs and we can catch them before they leave the market,” I joked.

Visine rewarded me with a slight snicker.

“Hey, we can always dream,” I added.

About then the road in front of us cleared and we were able to increase our speed. Bringing the horses into a full gallop meant an end to our talk, as we couldn’t hear each other over the thundering hooves of our steeds. As we crested the final hill I could see the Stone Arch in the distance.

As the name accurately suggests, the Stone Arch is a large arch made of stone. It was a light gray color, comprised of huge blocks expertly carved in order to make the seams all but invisible. The arch looked symmetrical, somewhere in the neighborhood of seventy-five feet high and just as wide. Looking through to the other side revealed nothing more than the very landscape that lay behind it. But as people walked through the opening I could see the slightest hint of a ripple in the air as they vanished from view.

Lewey’s Lane actually curved heavily to the right, swinging in front of and past the Arch itself. There was a short road, maybe a hundred feet long, which connected the Arch to the main lane. Like an exit ramp the short road allowed people to line up and orderly make their way through the opening. Following basic US traffic patterns those on the right side were leaving and those on the left were arriving. The people arriving through the left side were literally winking into existence. It was a very cool effect to watch.

“You weren’t planning to wait in line were you?” I hollered to Visine.

Visine grinned wide and kicked his horse into high gear. I increased the speed of my own steed and fell in line behind him. It seemed very likely that anyone who saw Visine barreling down at them on a Clydesdale was going to get the hell out of the way. In a vain attempt to do the right thing, I tried to shout out a warning to those around us.

“Official GHOSTs business, coming through. Make a lane people.”

Most of the crowd turned at the sound of my voice and scurried to the sides at the sight of Visine. A few stood strong, making it clear that their pride would not allow them to run away scared. Fortunately there was plenty of room for us to ride by anyway. My warning yell had just been a courtesy. Visine plunged through the gate and the ripple effect surrounded his body as he vanished. I followed right on his heels.

As I traveled through the Arch the sensation was very similar to that of stepping around the ugly tree in Rock Creek Park. Although here it was more pronounced. The rush of wind was stronger and it almost felt like I was breaking the surface of water, even though there was air on both sides. The Veil pulled back around me to reveal the underground world of the Goblin Market. We immediately slowed our horses to a safe speed.

We were in a smaller side tunnel that was almost the exact same dimensions as the Arch. About fifty yards ahead of us I could see that our tunnel opened up into a much larger area. Navigating through the crowd was difficult and slow on horseback, but it did give me a nice elevated view of the area. Shops, stores, and various other structures filled up the space along the walls. There was a narrow lane down the middle, just big enough for carts to pass by if all of the people made way. In front of us the many races of the Veil mingled and shopped, darting back and forth across our path as we moved. I maintained a steady pace and allowed the crowds to flow around me.
 

Other books

The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia A. McKillip
Los Hijos de Anansi by Neil Gaiman
Of Saints and Shadows (1994) by Christopher Golden
Genesis: The Story of Apollo 8 by Robert Zimmerman
Dead Sea by Curran, Tim
A Knight at the Opera by Kenneth L. Levinson