Harley Merlin 12 Page 2

  “Is that an artifact?” Mary came so close, a chill shivered up my spine as her spiritual form brushed my arm.

  “What?”

  “That.” She caressed the pendant resting against my chest. Getting a little too handsy there, Miss Foster.

  I tugged it away from her translucent fingers. “This? Yeah, but it doesn’t do anything. Not at the moment, anyway.” Erebus had let me keep the Eye I’d stolen from the monastery, but he yakked on about needing rare ingredients to resurrect the dead eye inside. I got the feeling he wanted me to track down said rare ingredients, but I already had a lot on my plate. I wasn’t about to go schlepping after some fancy herbs or whatever just to revive an item we might not need.

  “You used it to uncover Davin’s spy, did you not?” Mary drifted away from me.

  I raised my eyebrows. “These walls must be very thin.”

  “I told you, I frequently grow bored. And when bored, I listen. There is not much else spirits can do to amuse themselves, and the fleshies within this mansion do not care for it when we use them for sport. One weak heart and a poorly timed scare in the water closet, and it ruins the pastime for the rest of us.”

  I had to snort. “And you wonder why we’re all terrified to use the toilet?” I paused. “Wait, did you just call us ‘fleshies’?”

  “A colloquial term, yes. It is no worse than the names we have heard—ghouls, spooks, frighteners, wispies, and I will not repeat the curse words hurled at us when we appear unexpectedly.” She sniffed. “I prefer ‘specter.’ It sounds dignified.”

  “All right, ‘specter’ it is. And, yeah, we used this thing to uncover Davin’s spy. Not that it did us any good, in the end,” I replied. “Davin got everything he needed. He’s been a step ahead of us this whole time, and it’s worse now that he has my map. I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t stolen it.”

  “Well, I am rather glad you are here. But that is by the by. Why did he take your map? What use could he have for it?”

  I grimaced. “He’s looking for Atlantis, same as Erebus.”

  “But why? What is it about some sodden ruins that has these two fellows in such haste to get to it first?”

  “Yet another excellent question that I can’t answer,” I replied, shaking my head. I was just a teensy bit sick of those.

  Two

  Finch

  Time and space had become abstract concepts. I might’ve been floating over Antarctica for a week or a few hours. I couldn’t tell. Though I supposed someone would’ve come to snap me back to reality if I’d been out for a week, Erebus being at the top of the list to chuck a bucket of cold water at my face, if not worse.

  On Mary’s insistence, I’d returned to drawing the map. Surprisingly, she’d turned out to be just the kind of cheerleader I needed. Since she knew, more or less, where everyone was in the Winchester House at any given time, she’d nipped any further attempts at procrastination in the bud before I’d even risen out of my chair.

  The cold grew worse. I might’ve been a floating specter in this icy domain, but the bitter chill was very, very real. And the colder I got, the less I sensed my physical body. It had turned into a vague memory—a solid hand holding a quill, scratching the nib across paper. I knew it was happening, in a way, but it was far removed from my mind.

  Is this what it’s like for Kenzie? Not being a Morph, I had no experience as a Mighty Morphin’ Power Ranger like her. But when she’d come to Greece, she’d had to throw her mind over a hell of a distance. This must be a similar sensation, though maybe without the burning eyes and numb extremities.

  I thought of her for a moment and felt my hand twitch back in the study room. It was like an electrical charge passed through the blue tendrils that held me here, sent from the real world. We hadn’t had much time for goodbyes, with her mom and sister emerging from the bottle—the end result of Erebus actually upholding his end of a bargain with no small print for once. She’d gone straight into nurse mode to take care of them, and we’d chalk-doored to San Jose. I regretted not hugging her, at least, but I knew I’d see her again soon.

  Focus! The cold served as a sharp reminder of the task at hand. Thoughts of Kenzie faded away, and the chill bit deep with freshly sharpened jaws of ice. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stay here. Then again, I still wasn’t sure how long I’d been here in the first place.

  My spectral form drifted over the smaller island of South Georgia, right up to an even tinier island on the far-left side. “Island” might have been too generous. This was the Pluto of islands—a cluster of rocks with a few bits of flat ground thrown in so it wouldn’t have an inferiority complex. As I inspected this island, my eyes burned brighter, and a dagger of icy pain stabbed my heart. Somehow, I could feel the burn, despite being separated from my body.

  The Gateway between Life and Death… It wasn’t so much a voice in my head as a thought bursting into my skull.

  Casper-Finch wheeled around, fleeing the tiny speck of an island. I soared lower than before, but still stomach-churningly high. Finally, I stopped between the main continent of Antarctica and South Georgia, right in the middle of that dark ocean. A spout of water erupted, breaking the near-black surface and startling me so badly I almost spiraled back to my physical body. A pod of whales had joined my scouting session, their silky bodies moving effortlessly through the water before they disappeared again.

  Beautiful… I didn’t get much time to enjoy the sight. A second later, my eyes stung with blue light, blinding me. The brutal sparks filtered down to my chest and sent barbs of white-hot pain into my heart. I had no doubt that real-Finch was screaming, but I didn’t have the mouth for it.

  Atlantis… A new thought burst into my head without my say-so.

  The pain became unbearable. It splintered through every part of me. But I dug in my figurative heels. Davin was out there in the world somewhere, racing against us. He wouldn’t have given in to a little overwhelming torture, and neither could I.

  Casper-Finch stopped floating. I hovered for a split second before plummeting toward the black water below. I had no way to stop my fall, especially as I had no idea what had changed. Was someone trying to snap me out of the trance? Had I done something wrong?

  I braced myself for impact. Casper-Finch hit the water and disintegrated into a million blue sparks. Pain surged through me like never before—worse than Blanche’s ice wall, worse than anything Katherine had ever done to me, worse than Kenneth’s murder attempt.

  Everything turned white.

  I rocketed out of the blinding light, fighting my way to the surface. Dragging air into my lungs, I forced my eyes open. I was back in the study room, panting, my hands gripping the edge of the desk. Sweat drenched my clothes and plastered my hair to my forehead. I could taste the salt of it in my mouth, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. I must’ve bitten my tongue.

  “Mr. Merlin?” Mary swept forward. “Mr. Merlin, are you well? My goodness, you look an absolute fright!”

  “Thirsty…” I croaked. “So thirsty.”

  “I am not surprised. You are perspiring profusely!”

  I managed a pained smile. “You don’t say.”

  “Do you require assistance? May I fetch someone for you? Oh dear, you look rather unwell.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  “Are you certain? I would hate for you to… die unexpectedly.”

  “Don’t start sizing me up for a coffin just yet.” I let go of the desk, my knuckles darkening from bone-white to a less ghoulish pink. “How long was I out?”

  Mary shrugged. “Ten hours or so.”

  “What?” I gaped at her.

  “Should I not have allowed you to stay away so long?” She wrung her hands nervously.

  “No… I just… didn’t expect you to say that. I thought it might’ve been a couple of hours, tops.” No wonder I felt exhausted. To be honest, I was a little put out that nobody had come to check whether I was alive. Maybe Mary had given Mel
ody updates. I had no idea. I’d been floating across Antarctica for the last ten hours.

  “Mr. Merlin!” Her gaze flitted toward the paper in front of me. “Mr. Merlin, you filled the page!”

  I mopped my brow with the back of my forearm. “Huh?”

  “The map, Mr. Merlin! You finished it!”

  My gaze darted to the paper. Sure enough, all the lines and images and names were there, from corner to shining corner, just like the first one. The names were written in that same unfamiliar language. Atlantean, according to Erebus. Even though I couldn’t pronounce the symbols, I knew what the words meant:

  Black Rock, South Dawn, Land of the Green Lights, The Sapphire Sea, Where the Dancing of the Spirits Takes Place, and the Gateway between Life and Death. The glowing stars were there again, as well—two of them pulsated with blue light. One shone above the Gateway between Life and Death, and the other above the spot where Atlantis itself lay.

  “Son of a Nutcracker!” I pounded the desk with my fists. Startled, Mary flew right back to the far wall and disappeared through it.

  Aha, not so fun now that the shoe is on the other foot! She pulled herself together and floated over, clasping at her brooch.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Merlin,” she said, her tone oddly sad.

  “You don’t sound too happy.”

  She smiled. “I am, but it means my watch over you is done.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.” I reached for her hand, momentarily forgetting what she was. My fingers passed straight through, and an odd sensation made me shiver. “Seriously, you got my ass in gear. I’d still be looking for an excuse not to finish if it hadn’t been for you.”

  “I would prefer if you did not use such coarse language, but I thank you for the sentiment. At least, I think I do—I am still not entirely sure of your meaning, most of the time.” That seemed to cheer her up.

  I laughed. “It’s just my way of saying thanks. Now, I’ve got to scoot. I have good news for everyone!” I jumped up on shaky legs, taking a second to walk off the residual effects of the map-making. I’d probably ache all over in the morning, but that would be Tomorrow Finch’s problem. Right now, I had adrenaline coursing through me, and I wasn’t going to waste it.

  Rolling the map into a scroll, I headed for the door. I was about to pull the handle when Mary emerged through it, making me stagger back.

  “Mary! Dammit!”

  “My apologies.” She looked embarrassed. “I want to give you a warning before you go.”

  My heart rate slowed. “A warning?”

  “I know you are already aware of the angry souls within this mansion, but I feel it my duty, as your sometimes-sentinel, to tell you to be careful in your travels around these hallways. Not all the souls here are angry, but not all of them are friendly, either.” She lowered her gaze. “I would hate for anything bad to befall you. I know that you and I have only known one another for a day or so, but I feel we have become friends. I do not get to make friends very often here.”

  “Likewise.” I felt bad for yelling at her. “And thanks for the warning. I’ll be careful.”

  “Do not be a stranger, Mr. Merlin. I will endeavor not to frighten you next time,” she said, though I didn’t believe her. She had to get her kicks somewhere, and who was I to deny her some spiritual joy? Even if it was at my expense.

  “Catch you later, Miss Foster.” I grinned. “That means ‘I’ll see you soon.’”

  “Ah! Very good.” She stepped aside so I didn’t have to put my hand through her to get to the door handle.

  I opened the door and walked into the hallway, my hand wrapped snugly around the map. All I could think about was how amazing it would feel to slap this success in Erebus’s face like a wet fish.

  “Suck it, Ereb—” My self-congratulation turned into a shriek as I rounded the corner and collided with an oncoming figure. I almost cussed Mary out but quickly realized it couldn’t be her, or any ghost for that matter. I’d bumped into something solid. Looking down, I saw Melody in a heap on the floor.

  She grinned up at me. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time. There are three kinds of people in this place: the ones who practically run in the hopes of avoiding any ghostly encounters, the ones who creep around for the same reason, and the ones who are so used to seeing specters that it no longer frightens them.”

  I stuck out my hand to help her up and hauled her to her feet. “I’m guessing you’re the last kind?”

  “I’ve seen these ghosts since I was a child. They don’t frighten me any more than the living do.”

  I chuckled. “I don’t know, the living can be pretty scary when they want to be.”

  “Sometimes even more so than ghosts.” She linked her arm through mine, taking me by surprise. “But speaking of non-scary living people, I have two that I want you to meet!”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Who?”

  “My mom and dad.” She squeezed my arm excitedly. “They’ve just come back from their business trip, and they’re dying to meet you.”

  “You should be careful saying that sort of thing in this house,” I teased.

  “You’re so funny, Finch. For some people, like you, it comes naturally. For others, they try so hard and never manage it.” She giggled.

  I cast her a sly smile. “Like Luke, you mean?”

  “Finch!” She nudged me in the ribs. “He has his moments.”

  “I haven’t witnessed any.”

  She dragged me down the hallway. “Did you know that laughter lowers cortisol, making us feel relaxed and comforted? It has long been theorized that laughter began as a way of connecting humans to one another and forming a community through the good feelings it creates. Crying shows distress, while laughter shows unity and bonds people together. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

  “They should call you the Encyclopedia, not the Librarian.”

  She smiled. “What would that make you? The Jester?”

  “Oof, low blow.”

  “I didn’t mean any offense. See what I mean about being naturally funny? I can never land the punchline properly.” She looked genuinely guilty, switching from laughter to distress in a heartbeat. Ironic, considering what she’d just told me about human nature.

  I gave her arm a squeeze. “I was just teasing—no offense taken. You keep coming at me with quips like that, you’ll take my comedy crown in no time.”

  Her smile returned. “Phew! For an Empath, I’m pretty bad at reading people whose emotions I can’t sense. I get so worried about offending folks without meaning to.”

  “You and the rest of the world. Nowadays, people think ‘I’m offended’ means ‘I’m right.’”

  “That’s very philosophical of you, Finch.”

  I shrugged. “I can wax philosophical when I want to.”

  “Although, maybe keep it neutral with my parents? No inappropriate jokes.” She flashed me a serious look. “I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

  I gave a mock salute. “I’ll be on my very best behavior. Besides, parents love me—my mother being the sole exception.”

  We walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes through the creepy labyrinth of corridors. The Winchester Mystery House was a mystery for a reason. Its hallways led nowhere, its staircases ended in ceiling, and its doors opened to blank walls. Some doorways were visible from the outside and looked like they opened to nothing but empty air. That wasn’t exactly true. Most led into the interdimensional pocket, but the non-magical public didn’t know that.

  The house itself looked like an elaborate Disney World exhibit or a huge Swiss chalet. The red roof tiles gave the impression of castle spires, and the yellowish exterior featured Tudor-esque paneling and colorful stained-glass windows. Palm trees and landscaped gardens covered the front of the property, and two statues stood guard over the entry. Magicals could touch the stone dish of the right-hand statue and whisper Aperi Portam to enter the interdimensional part. A fountain stood between the two statues,
too, which looked like… well, it wouldn’t be polite to say. Fortunately, magicals didn’t have to touch that to gain entry.

  Rounding the corner of a hallway that actually went somewhere, we met up with my favorite person in the world—Luke. He stood anxiously by the corner, his gaze darting around like he was in the front row at Wimbledon. I guessed he wasn’t quite used to the spooks yet.

  “There you are!” he said, evidently relieved. Then, he saw Melody’s arm through mine and scowled. The ol’ green-eyed monster at play.

  “I was told to look for a man with a rose in his buttonhole,” I shot back, untangling my arm from Melody’s.

  Luke narrowed his eyes. “How about you shut your buttonhole?”

  “Ooh, that was quick for you.” I grinned at him. We still weren’t exactly pals, but we tolerated each other. Mostly. Melody had to mediate a lot, but I liked to think of this as friendly banter.

  “How come you’re so sweaty?” Luke frowned. “I know it’s not because you’ve been to the gym.”

  “Actually, I’ve been freezing my ass off in Antarctica,” I replied.

  He smirked. “Then shouldn’t you be shivering instead of dripping?”

  “I don’t make the rules.”

  “Is that map finished yet?” Luke was giving it full sass. “You’ve been taking your sweet time. I don’t get it—the first one didn’t seem like such a big deal.”

  That one hit a little too close to home. “I had the oranges then. Need I remind you of the caffeine metaphor?”

  He groaned. “Please don’t.”

  “Well, the oranges made it easier, magnet-boy. Without them, it’s been… tough. Like trudging through a swimming pool of mud to get to the other side, only it’s my mind that’s filled with mud, and the mud is on fire, and now creatures are coming out of it and trying to pull me under, and, oh, there’s Satan and his pitchfork trying to jab me in the ass.”