Read At the Behest of the Dead Online

Authors: Timothy W. Long

At the Behest of the Dead (19 page)

BOOK: At the Behest of the Dead
3.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

It was an honest mistake. She had been tucking me in and my half conscious brain had simply mistaken her intentions. I was confused, and when I saw her leaning over me I assumed she wanted to get frisky, which is how my lips ended up on hers.

“I’m seeing someone.”

“What? So soon?”

“Don’t look so scandalized. It’s been over a year, Phineas. Did you think I was going to sit around drinking willow tea while pining after you?”

“You’re more of a bourbon girl.”

“I drink red wine, Phineas, and I always have. Once. We had bourbon once and now it’s my drink?”

“I have a head injury!” I exclaimed.

“Should have left you in Sal’s body,” she muttered.

“Where are my clothes?”

“Being burned. I saved your chest piece. Why you wear that archaic device is beyond the realm of stupidity. Did Salazar know you had it?”

“He gave it to me. I never really asked where he’d acquired it. That device has saved my ass on more than one occasion.”

“But the pain must be horrendous.”

“Better than being dead.”

The door banged open and in walked a familiar face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the council would like to speak with you, Cavanaugh.”

Speak with me? He should have just said interrogate.

Collin looked trim in the robes of his office. Security was the official title, but he had been an inquisitor at one time. I’d known Collin for a few years though we weren’t all that close. Still, he had been nothing but professional, and had even defended me when the battle went down with Balkir.

Collin had started life w
orking for the arcanist guild. The group that studied books and wrote spells. Actually wrote them on paper or parchment. I believe they preferred the latter because it was more ‘legit.’

Collin was a large man that looked a little doughy around the edges. No
t that he had a ponderous gut. He was simply built like a wrestler from the eighties. Today he was dressed in the dark robes of his office and not a flashy spandex suit complete with wrestler mask. The thought sent me into a fit of giggles.

He sha
ved his head like Balkir but didn’t have any tattoos on his pate. He wore a thick set of glasses and didn’t appear all that dangerous. If he showed up at my house as a guard, I would show him to the library and tell him which books to keep an eye on.

The funny thing was that I had seen Collin on the guild’s jogging track more than once. I had no doubt that the man could get his hands on some potions capable of making him lighter or less connected to the earth, so to speak. But I knew Co
llin and he wouldn’t do such a thing. As far as I was concerned he was above reproach.

He also had no sense of humor.

“How they hanging, Collin?”

“Much
tighter now that you’re here,” he said and strode to my bedside. Collin didn’t smile, but I was tempted to give him a ‘zing’ for effort. He carried something wrapped in brown paper that was tied together with a dark piece of sting. He tossed the package on the bed.

“I didn’t ask to come here and I didn’t ask to be stuck in this bed. Call of
f your watch-leopard,” I said, glancing at Glenda.

“There has been a lot of talk.
A lot of talk. The demonologists want you expunged. Some have even called for your head.”

“Screw those pansies,” I said with bravado I didn’t really feel. “There’re just mad because I kicked
Balkir’s ass.”

Glenda cleared her throat.

“Okay. We kicked his ass.”


Lukan has the loudest voice and the largest pull. He’s demanding that you be handed over to them.”

“Handed over? What is this? T
he dark ages again?”

“No, b
ut they are claiming an old writ. In the event of a guild leader’s death, they can ask for a trial against the accused.”

“So I stand accused?” I tried not to let my voice shake but couldn’t judge how good my acting was. It was a long shot that I would be ‘turned over
,’ though it was likely that the council would keep me here. In ’93 it was determined that our lands were to be left alone and our laws also left to us. At the time it was a brilliant move by the league. They promised to help the US government when they asked for it and we got to keep our autonomy.

“No they haven’t
accused you yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“It’s almost unprecedented,
” Glenda interjected.

“Is it?” I asked.

“Hasn’t happened in at least four centuries. I checked the books.”

I scratched my head. We had books about that kind of stuff?

“Doesn’t matter. It happened once, so there is precedence. There is precedence, so they can ask for it and possibly get it. Of course, your guild will defend you … for the most part.”

“What the hells
do you mean, ‘for the most part?’”

“I mean you’ve been away for a long time. Broke ties, left in a huff. Got your
warlock panties in a knot. They remember that,” Glenda said.

“The television stunt,” Collin muttered.

I wanted to defend myself, but every word they spoke was true.

I should
’ve just run. Traveled north until I reached the necropolis and stayed there for a few weeks. See what Doc West was up to. He was about as old a necromancer as I’d ever met. He had a thing for zombies and AC/DC, the latter being the weird part since he was about nine hundred years old.

A t
hought hit me. The necropolis. Why didn’t I think of that before?

“Collin, buddy, look at me. Do I really look like a threat?”

“As a trusted member of the guild no harm will come to you. You’ve done much good and I witnessed your actions. Still, there are old souls here who would see you stripped of rank and tossed on the other side of the cusp.”

I gulped.

“They wouldn’t really,” Glenda chimed in with my exact thoughts.

“Can I at least defend myself?” I may have been injured and weak
, but my temper was rising along with my blood pressure. I could force myself to be heard, call upon old friends to defend me.

“It would go easier if you could find a reason for being summoned in the first place. We hav
e many that can read the dead. As much as you have done for us over the years, your powers aren’t all that special.”

“Gee, thanks
, Collin. You’re all heart.”

“I’m no different. Neither is Glenda. There’s no shame in recognizing our limits.”

Glenda’s eyes flared to life. If there was no shame, it sure didn’t show on her face. She looked like she was about to take out a wand and roast Collin’s skin. I coughed to cover a laugh.

“You’r
e just full of cheer today,” I said.

“Yes, Collin. You are certainly full of something.” She jabbed him in the side with a finger.

His only reaction was to crack that poker face and give Glenda a half smirk. She shook her head and crossed her arms under her breasts. The leather creaked as she rubbed the material together. Leather looked good but it was ungodly hot and noisy. Not something you wanted to wear on a job. I’d tried it once but regretted it the minute I left the house. Somehow I didn’t think Glenda had any issues wearing the material, or turning heads everywhere she walked.

He leaned o
ver and whispered something to her. She shook her head lightly then smiled.

“Really?” I looked between the two of them.

“Don’t look so scandalized,” Glenda said and intertwined one arm with his.

Collin didn’t answer my accusation
, but his silence might as well have been a giant flashing green neon light that said “Guilty!”

“You have about six hours. I suggest you get dressed and go to
Balkir’s room. Find out why he wanted you so badly. Find answers, and be quick about it.”

“With all the suspicion
, am I supposed to just walk through the hallways with my head held high?”

“I suggest keeping your face hidden.” Collin pointed at the package he had tossed on the bed.

“And try not to destroy any more of the building while you
investigate
,” Glenda quipped.

“Thank you
, Glenda. I’ll do my best. Now shouldn’t you get back to teasing--I mean teaching?”

She wasn’t impressed with my last shot and left.

“She likes peonies. Blood red, if you can find them.”

“I’m not ha
ving this conversation with you,” Collin said.

“Eye of newt is a favorite
as well. Makes her – well, you know.”

“Phineas!”

“It’s true. Evens her out after the Sabbath.”

Collin turned and left.

Can I clear a room or what?

After he stormed out
, I unwrapped the brown paper.

“Collin,
you’re smarter than you look.”

Chapter
Ten

 

I
moved, unaccosted, through the hallways. The hood was indeed up and covered most of my face. What was visible was recessed in shadow. Men moved aside as I tried to remember which floor I was on. I was busy studying a door, thinking it looked somewhat familiar, when a voice asked if I needed help. I turned but it was just a novice. I didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to. I gestured and he moved away with a loud gulp.

Inquisitors were interested in the truth
, and to that end their methods hadn’t always been a matter of simply asking questions. I won’t say that the Spanish Inquisition wasn’t a spin off, but I haven’t read up on the subject. I had asked Salazar at one time, but the look he had given me was enough to stop that query. However one thing had not changed: where the inquisitor strode, doors opened, and people did not ask questions.

I wore such a robe now.
It was white with red bands worked into the front to form a square. Flowery symbols surrounded the stripes, but if one looked close enough, as I had, those delicate flowers had very sharp thorns.

The arms were long enough to hide my hands and the cowl deep enough to conceal my face. I’d left the chest piece in my room because I d
idn’t want anyone detecting it under my clothing.

“Los
t, sir?” another voice asked.

I spun to find a familiar face
, albeit one I hadn’t seen for some time. I had even forgotten the man’s name, though he was a demonologist, of that much I was certain. If he recognized me I was screwed six ways from the Sabbath.

“Do I truly look lost?” I deepened my voice and threw a hint of menace
in for good measure.

“No,
er, sir. I just thought …”

I did my best to burn a hole into his head with my hidden eyes.

“Name?”


Rigel, sir.”

“Uh huh. And
Rigel, to whom do you report?”


Balkir. Or I did, sir. Until that outcast Phineas killed him.”

I nearly sputtered.

“Be gone, Rigel. I have matters to attend to.” I added about as much menace as I could before I started to sound like a bad guy in a blockbuster action movie.

Rigel
didn’t say a word. He spun on his heel and walked in the opposite direction. His nervous steps continued until they found a corner and disappeared.

I could get used to this.

 

**

 

I found the right floor after
a few minutes of wandering. An elevator finally appeared, and when I entered the two warlocks on board looked at timepieces and left for whatever destination they had clearly forgotten about.

Balkir’s
door was closed and guarded. It looked like it was going to be a showdown. Me, my robe, and my wits against his guardliness. But as I walked with purposeful strides, he moved aside while performing a quick head bob.

I closed the door behind
me and turned the lock as slowly as I could in the hope that it didn’t emit an audible click. It did. At least the guard didn’t freak out and start banging on the wood.

Balkir’s
room was organized into sections. His living quarters were through an opulent door of ivory. It opened on perfectly balanced hinges with just a touch. His bed was a mess, and the reek of saltpeter was so cloying I forced myself to breath through my mouth.

An ornate chest coated in gold and gems lay at the foot of his bed. I avoided the obvious trap with disdain.

I wasn’t looking for something hidden. I could spend all day here with a fortune in spell components and maybe learn that he kept a secret stash of fetish gear. Or maybe he dressed like a woman on the weekends. If that was the case, I didn’t think the council would care too much when I based my defense on garters and a flowery dress.

BOOK: At the Behest of the Dead
3.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Boat in the Evening by Tarjei Vesaas
Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors by Carl Sagan, Ann Druyan
Tied Up and Twisted by Alison Tyler
Thicker than Blood by Madeline Sheehan
All I Have in This World by Michael Parker
High Risk by Carolyn Keene
A Journey of the Heart by Catherine M. Wilson