Against a Brightening Sky (41 page)

“Dee, take Alina out of here.” Dora spoke firmly, but her hands shook. “Jordan's in the hallway near the kitchen. Leave Alina with him and come back. I need your help.”

We stumbled from the room, Alina and I holding each other up in equal measure. I don't know what Dora told him, but Jordan didn't budge from his post in front of the kitchen door until the last second. He took Alina from me, wrapping an arm around her shoulders protectively.

“Sweet Jesus, Delia.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped my cheek. It came away splotched with crimson. “Say something. Tell me you're all right.”

I cleared my throat again and swallowed, wincing. “No, I'm not. Where's Libby?”

“She's in the kitchen.” Jordan frowned. “Dora made me promise to keep her there and to keep Libby away from Alina.”

I'd been right about Josef doing something to her. Dora had sensed it too. “Do what she said, Jordan. There's a reason to keep Libby confined for the time being. I have to go back. Dora needs me.”

Dora stood where I'd left her, the gun pointed at Josef. He lay quiet and didn't move, but phantoms still packed the room. The ghosts moved aimlessly, restlessly. They wouldn't leave until he was truly dead. I wasn't sure they could leave. Not unless Josef sent them away.

“Tell me what to do, Dora.” I screwed up my courage and squared my shoulders. “I know we can't let him walk out of here.”

Her grim smile made it easy to see how very tired she was. “We don't need to go quite so far as murder, Delia. Josef is already dead, and I suspect he has been for some time. Necromancers really are foul creatures. The worst of them siphon off the death energy of their victims to prolong and restore their own lives. They become like morphine addicts, craving more and more death.”

Josef moaned and his fingers twitched. I stared. “He's dead?”

“Very. He was already dead when Aleksei Nureyev shot him.” She gestured toward the ghosts crowded around Josef. “Look closely, Dee. If I can see the bond that holds these ghosts in thrall, it should be very clear to you. That bond is what enables Josef to maintain the illusion of life.”

The bonds were clear, now that I knew to look. Braided strands of yellow, silver, red, and green—captured pieces of aura—tied each phantom to Josef. They all pulsed in the same rhythm, beating in time with his heart. “Can we sever those bonds?”

“Setting the ghost free is supposed to break the connection.” She shrugged and gave me a rueful glance. “It's a lot like sending on someone who doesn't know they're dead yet. I've read about this, but I lack practical experience.”

I'd sent on thousands of confused haunts, and banished twice that many stubborn spirits who refused to leave the world of the living. And from the baleful looks these phantoms gave Josef, they'd be grateful to leave. He held them here, nothing else.

I shut my eyes and looked inward, searching for the best way to start. The dragon's night-dark eyes greeted me, and I knew what to do. Fear set my heart to racing, but being afraid didn't mean I wouldn't try. That the watcher made it appear so simple, so easy, scared me most of all. Dealing with the spirit realm was seldom simple.

“Hear me, spirits, and know I speak truth. Your tie to life is broken. No man can bind your spirit to his will, no man use the essence of who you were to cheat death.” I couldn't raise my voice above a whisper, but whispers worked just as well. The phantoms turned as one, watching me and listening. “I free you to seek rest and peace, I free you to find a place beyond this living world, I free you from the bonds that keep you here. No man can force you to his bidding or bend you to his will. Three times I've said the words, three times I've cut the bond, three times I've granted peace and rest. You have your freedom. Go.”

For a moment, I thought I'd failed. But slowly, one by one, the pulsing of the bonds slowed and stopped, the colors fading. Phantoms crumbled to dust and blew away on a wind I couldn't feel, or rose in misty tendrils to vanish through the ceiling. They followed each other faster and faster, until the room was empty of ghosts.

Blood still stained Dora's carpet, but all that remained of Josef was a pile of yellowed bone wrapped in rotting fabric.

Dora carefully set the pistol on a side table and put her arm around me. “Well done, Dee. We'll need to burn the bones and salt the earth where we bury the ashes. Far from the city would be best, but we'll find a spot nearby if forced to it.”

The front door slammed open, followed by Randy's frantic shouts. “Dora! Dora, where are you?”

“We're in here! Everything's all right!” Tears slid down Dora's face. She squeezed my shoulders and went to meet him. “Everything's all right.”

*   *   *

The bruises on my throat healed slowly, and my ability to speak in a normal voice took nearly as long to recover. I saw Gabe watching me when he thought I didn't know, that horrible knowledge of how close he'd come to losing me sitting stark and raw in his eyes. That I'd looked at him the same way after the riot didn't make it easier to bear for either of us. If we held each other a little tighter, that was to be expected.

Dora sent a series of letters to Europe and telegrams to New York with the truth about the murders of the tsar and his family. People she trusted were asked to spread tales of what had happened. Rumors followed quickly, stories of sightings of his daughters alive and well, and reports of the tsar living quietly in exile.

None of the stories were true and grew wilder with time, but they got people talking about Lenin and his revolution, and chasing after false trails. That was exactly what Isadora wanted.

Sam was alive and well, and he did his part to throw the hounds off the scent. I didn't ask how he managed, but a photograph and a story about the tsar's daughter Maria being killed in the San Francisco riot spread across the country. The story appeared in all the biggest papers, from Los Angeles to New York and points between. It was quite the sensation and lasted for several weeks. That story spread to Europe as well and brought more scrutiny to the Bolsheviks.

Alina—Maria—was as safe as we could make her. With Josef's death, all her memories had returned, as well as all the sorrow. She had no interest in being a rallying point for the royalists. With most of the world believing she was dead, she had a chance for a quiet life with Sam.

We'd done our best for Connor over the last few weeks. There was no cure, no guarantee that spirits wouldn't continue to frighten him, but a protection spell Dora obtained from an old friend kept the ghosts away when he left the house. He was a happier, brighter little boy as a result. That made Sadie and Jack happier as well.

Dora and I worried about him less, and my fears of madness and possession receded into the background. Once he learned to talk and could understand, we'd start teaching Connor ways to protect himself. He wouldn't be left to fend for himself.

Jordan Lynch put off his trip back to Chicago until everything had settled. He filled his time by making small repairs around Katie Allen's boardinghouse and listening to her stories. I couldn't say which of them got the most enjoyment out of their time together. Jordan might not have gone back at all, but Gabe couldn't get the chief of police to hire a Negro. As it was, Jordan wanted to stay long enough to see Sam and Maria married. He got his wish.

Gabe and I filled our parlor with flowers on a late June night, roses and lilies, carnations and the first sweet peas from my garden. Candlelight lit the room, adding soft shadows. Food and a wedding cake waited in the dining room, all paid for by Dora.

Libby had been invited, but she sent a note saying she had other obligations and couldn't come. It was all very polite and proper, and a lie from beginning to end. She was still deeply smitten with Sam. Watching Maria marry him was more than Libby Mills could bear.

Annie came with Jack and Sadie and the children, leaning heavily on Jack's arm and looking more frail than even the day before. How confused she'd grown since her encounter with Josef reminded me of Esther Larkin's last days, a slow fading away that ended in death. I visited daily and spent as much time with Annie as I could. Sadie and I both knew we wouldn't have her for long.

Dora had bought Maria a proper dress and a going-away suit, and fussed with arranging flowers in Maria's hair as much as any mother of the bride. Maria looked radiant and the picture of happiness as she came into the parlor on Gabe's arm. Sam's eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. I knew in that strange way I could never describe that they'd have a long, happy life together.

Sadie and I stood on either side of Annie's chair, holding her hands, and watched the happy couple take their vows. A cheer went up and we all clapped when Sam and Maria shared a kiss. If a few tears were shed by Isadora Bobet, we all pretended not to see.

Three princess ghosts watched their sister marry as well, roses that would never wither in their cheeks and bright eyes brimming with happiness. I'd thought the memory ghosts would fade away, but they still followed Maria everywhere. That was just as well. Knowing someone who loved her still watched over Maria gave me comfort.

The dragon's eyes opened, plunging me into night-dark depths and wrapping me in amusement. Maria's guardian would always be there for her, for her children and grandchildren. She released me slowly this time, affectionately, and left behind a promise. Maria and Sam would never truly be alone.

Dora and I drove Sam and Maria to the train station at dawn. The buildings downtown were dark outlines against a brightening sky, shadows retreating moment by moment with the approach of daylight.

Sam and I hung back as Dora said good-bye to Maria. There were tears in both their eyes and I wasn't sure Dora would let go. Of course in the end, she did.

Isadora and I stood with arms around each other, waving and watching the train pull away. She was still waving long after the train was out of sight.

We linked arms for the walk back to the car. The sun rose over the rooftops as we left the station, sending rainbow sparks out from windows to dance on the sides of buildings. I took that as a sign.

My life held more light than darkness, more love than sorrow. I needed to remember, and keep pushing back the shadows.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jaime Lee Moyer
is the author of three paranormal romance mysteries featuring the evocative heroine Delia Martin:
Against a Brightening Sky, A Barricade in Hell,
and
Delia's Shadow,
which won the 2009 Columbus Literary Award for Fiction. Jaime has sold short fiction to
Lone Star Stories,
Daily Science Fiction,
and the
Triangulations: End of the Rainbow
and
Triangulations: Last Contact
anthologies. She was poetry editor for
Ideomancer Speculative Fiction
for five years and edited
The 2010 Rhysling Award Anthology
for the Science Fiction Poetry Association. She lives in San Antonio with writer Marshall Payne, three cats, three guitars, and a growing collection of books and music. You can sign up for email updates
here
.

 

ALSO BY
JAIME LEE MOYER

Delia's Shadow

A Barricade in Hell

 

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