Panther Prowling

“You’re here for good.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

  She gave me a melancholy smile. “Yeah, I knew that already, when I was told I’d become the first Earthside High Priestess, but it never really sank in. Not till now. Not till Aeval brought it glaringly home today.”

  “We’re ready.” Myrddin called us over. “Just stand back far enough so you don’t interfere with the weaving of the spell.” He shooed everybody else out of the way, and then, with Leif sitting in a chair in the center of the room, the Merlin began to cast his magic.

  Using an antler-handled dagger, he drew a triangle around Leif, weaving a trail of green light that sparkled out from the tip of the blade. As he closed the triangle, he began to draw other sigils in the air, swirls and what looked like staves from the Celtic Ogham, but I had a feeling they predated the runic alphabet by a long, long time. After he finished, he began to sing, and it was then that I understood why Áine—the Merlin’s girlfriend who was forever locked within dragon form—had fallen in love with him. His voice lilted over the words, the melody trilling and hypnotic as it wove a spiral that turned into a labyrinth, that invited us to follow it into the core of the song.

  My panther self responded, not in defense, but I wanted to transform and follow this man into the woods, deep into the forest wild. There was something primal about his nature. The magic that rolled off the Merlin was feral and wild and rose up like the Antlered God. Camille was drawing closer, too, her eyes rapt as she watched him, and Morio had inched forward, a look of wonder on his face.

  Myrddin rose up, the mask of humanity falling away, and he stood there, against the shadow of the Antlered God. He was the chosen of Herne, of the Horned One who danced through the forests and called all witches and wild creatures to follow in his wake. Passion rolled off him, and strength, and the musky scent that drove forth the desire to rut, to mate, to burn.

  Leif was staring at him with a radiant look on his face, like someone who has just found his reason for living. Tears ran down his face as the Merlin circled him, whispering in a language I did not understand. It was old and guttural and yet . . . beautiful.

  The guards who were watching had set down their weapons, equally enthralled. As I watched Myrddin, I realized that the arrogance and the singular focus—it all went with his position. He was the High Priest of the Hunter; he had to stand outside the rules. His focus was on the bigger picture.

  Suddenly wishing Shade were here, I slowly dropped to one knee. Camille was already down on her knees, entranced by the spell and magic. I closed my eyes, still listening, and that was when I made the connection.

  You understand now?

  Hi’ran was there, sweeping around me, his words a whisper on the wind. I realized then: His energy stemmed from the same core as the magic surrounding the Merlin, except for being from a different season. The Autumn Lord’s fires were the same as the bonfires around which the witches and celebrants danced. Everything was entwined. The Hunter, he was the heart of the forest, whether it was summer or autumn or winter or spring. Hi’ran ruled over the autumn winds of that forest. Though not the same entity, they were connected by the underlying energy of the forest and the turning of the Wheel.

  I think so . . . I think I’m on the edge of it.

  You are beginning to perceive the threads of the web that interconnect everything in this universe. You and your sister Camille are not so different. She follows the wild goddess and the wild god . . . you are pledged to the Autumn spirits. But they are of the same essence. The Wheel may turn with the seasons, but the world is still the same world. Remember this . . . it will play into your own transformation.

  I thought about Shade. Can you help him? What will happen to us?

  Shade will rise triumphant out of this. Remember: All transformations happen for a reason. The Hags of Fate weave the web, and even seemingly disparate shifts fit into the tapestry. Now be at peace. The cycles move, the Wheel turns, and each step builds on the last.

  And then, with a feather’s touch, he was gone. I opened my eyes. The Merlin was doing something with his hands—playing with a ball of energy or something. As I looked closer, he stretched the thin mist into a wide ellipse and the fog began to shimmer. As we watched, the image of the sword appeared in the center of it.

  “Mark and set.” The Merlin clapped his hands and the image shimmered once, flared, and then vanished. The triangle of energy around Leif disappeared and the room returned to normal.

  Feeling like I’d just tumbled down from a drugged high, I blinked and stood. Morio helped Camille to her feet. We walked over to Myrddin and Leif, who had a radiant look on his face.

  “What happened?” I glanced from one man to the other.

  Leif started to speak, then burst into tears and shook his head.

  But the Merlin smiled. “You’ll find the sword—and Daniel—at 37501 Sythica Street.”

  “That sounds familiar . . .” Camille frowned. “I can’t remember why, but I know that address.”

  “I know, same here. But I can’t find out why until we go outside.” We couldn’t use our cell phones in the Barrows—the energies disrupted them, but she was right. I knew that address, too, but couldn’t quite place it.

  Morio stepped forward. “I know exactly what that address is. It’s smack in the heart of the Greenbelt Park District. That’s the address of the Greenbelt Asylum. Or rather, the ruins of the mental institution. The one that burned down during an inmate riot. They’re keeping Daniel there. It would make sense—with so much ghostly activity there. And with the power out all over town . . .”

  “It’s going to be jumping with spirits. All the better to feed Jay’s army of the dead he’s trying to raise.” My stomach lurched. The most haunted district in the city was a dangerous and frightening place. And while we had never had the misfortune to enter the ruins of the asylum before, it looked like now we were going to have to. And that was going to be one hell of a trip.

  Chapter 18

  “We’ll need to take Leif with us, in order for him to claim possession of the sword once we put a stop to whatever’s going on. But I don’t like putting him in danger.” Camille frowned. “We’ll have to make certain to watch him.” She looked at me. “Shade . . . he has no powers over the dead anymore, right?”

  I knew what she was asking. We’d come to count on his ability to—if not outright control, at least understand—what kind of dead we were up against. “No powers over them. But let me call and find out if he can still get a good read on them. That would be a huge help, considering where we’re going.”

  Camille gave me a solemn look and then glanced at Morio. We’d almost lost him to angry ghosts sometime back, a grim reminder that we were all vulnerable, for all of our powers and abilities.

  I headed out of the barrow and, in the pounding rain, put in a call to Shade. I’d have to charge my phone in the car again—the bars were getting low. He answered after a couple rings.

  “My phone’s getting low, love. I was about to go out to your Jeep to charge it. What do you need?”

  “Everything at home okay?” We always checked. It was our first priority when any of us called home anymore.

  “Everything’s fine. Cold, but fine. I’ve been putting piles of rocks around the different rooms in heatproof bowls and firing them up so they at least emanate some heat. Iris and Bruce are okay. What did you find out? What’s going on?”

  “So much . . . I can’t even begin to tell you, but what I need now is to ask you something and it might sting a little, but we need to know.” I rushed on, telling him what we were facing and asking if he could still sense ghosts, even if he couldn’t control them.

  Shade hesitated, then said, “Yes, I can. I can sense them but I can’t do anything against them. I may be able to still talk to them, but I don’t know yet.”

  “Love, I talked to Hi’ran. I’ll tell y
ou what he said later, but this is all in the scheme of things. We need you now. Meet us at the ruins of the Greenbelt Asylum. We’ll be there as soon as we can. We’re bringing Leif—he has to be there.”

  At that moment Camille and the others emerged from the barrow. The carriage was waiting—two, in fact—and we climbed in and rode back to the parking lot. Neither Myrddin nor the Fae Queens joined us.

  Camille and I rode in one of the carriages, Smoky, Morio, Vanzir, and Leif in the other. Camille started to say something, then closed her mouth, pointing to the roof, where the driver sat. The chances of being overheard were still too great. So we rode in silence till we reached the parking lot.

  “The guys are going in Morio’s SUV. I don’t want to tell them about . . . you know. Not yet. Not till I’ve had time to process the news.”

  “What about Morgaine?”

  “Oh, we have to tell them about her. But about me . . . hold off. We’ll talk to Menolly tonight, though.” She started the ignition and we pulled out of the parking lot, followed by the men.

  After a couple minutes, I told Camille about what the Autumn Lord had said to me. “Things are changing for all of us. I wonder where we’ll all end up.” And then, hesitating, I told her about Morgaine’s spirit. “I have no clue what it means.”

  “You’re a Death Maiden—maybe it’s something to do with her death. I’m glad she seems back to her old self, though. Anything’s better than the fog she was lost in.” She glanced at me, then back at the road. “Do you think you’ll end up raising the Autumn Lord’s child Earthside or in Otherworld? If it was over here . . .” The hopeful note in her voice told me she was thinking just what I was: If I raised his daughter here, we wouldn’t be separated. She didn’t want to be split off from me and Menolly any more than we wanted to be broken apart from her. Our destinies were vastly different, and we had our loves, but we were sisters—and we’d been tightly bonded since childhood.

  “I hope so.” I smiled at her. “But that’s a while off, I think. So let’s focus on taking care of this problem before we dive into solving another.”

  “Can you call Carter while we’re on the road and ask him for anything else he might have on the Greenbelt Asylum? Ask him if he has any floor plans for it. Granted things shift over the years, especially when you’re a pile of rubble . . . but it would be nice to know what we’re headed into.”

  I plugged my phone into Camille’s charger and then punched up Carter’s contact number. He was a demigod of sorts. He was half-demon, half-Titan. His father was the Titan Hyperion, the father of the sun and the moon. And he had devoted his life to the Demonica Vacana Society.

  I put him on hold and—in a flash of inspiration—called Smoky. “I’m going to bring you into the call with Carter, but don’t put it on speaker phone—you have Leif in the car. We don’t want any potential secrets spilled in front of him. But you can tell the others what they need to know after we’re done.”

  “Can do,” Smoky said, and I tapped Carter back in so we were on a three-way conference call.

  Carter swore when I told him what we were facing. “Wonderful. Just what we need to stir up things again. But I can’t get on the computer. Power is out here, too. I’m going into withdrawal. I have to figure out a solution for outages—there’s no place for a generator in a basement apartment without suffocating oneself. But I can check that scrapbook I showed you sometime back to see what I have on the asylum.”

  For someone who lived in a rather antiquated apartment—he was retro beyond the point of retro—Carter was extraordinarily tech savvy.

  “Before I go prowl through the filing cabinet, I have some news for you. Unwelcome news on the Shadow Wing front.”

  I let out a long sigh. Shadow Wing had focused his efforts over in Otherworld for a while now, and we’d had a chance to breathe here—well, breathe as far as he was concerned. But now . . .

  Camille darted a quick look my way.

  “Let me put you on speaker so Camille can hear what you have to say.”

  “Can you all hear me?” His voice sounded tinny through the speaker, but he was clear.

  “I can hear you,” Smoky’s voice crackled through.

  I nodded, then realized neither of them could see me. “Go ahead. And can you e-mail all of this to us when you get power back? Whenever that happens.” I was already getting tired of the storm damage. As it was, we still didn’t know just how widespread the storm had been, or how bad.

  “Sure. Okay, here’s the thing. There’s a new demon general on the rise. Shadow Wing is being very closemouthed about him, but I’m looking into matters. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out what you’re facing. All I know is this is worse than any you’ve faced before. This may be the vanguard before Shadow Wing himself manages to break through.” Carter sounded worried, and when Carter was worried—it meant there was reason for it.

  Camille swerved to avoid a large branch in the road. She had the windshield wipers going full steam and the rain was still pounding down. “Worse than Gulakah? And do you know if he—she—is in the area yet?”

  “Yes, and I have no idea. Whoever it is, they might already be here. I don’t even know if Shadow Wing has located another of the spirit seals and that’s why he’s sending out someone new. I’m not sure. I wish I had more to give you on this, but with everything down, there’s not much I can do. Okay, now I’ll go find that scrapbook. I think I know where it is. I’ll be right back.”

  We continued along. The roads weren’t that cluttered with traffic—people were still feeling the aftermath of the storm. And the rains were continuing to cause havoc. As we passed one side road that sloped down, I saw that—at the bottom—it was covered with water and a tree was sprawled across it.

  “Being on the roads today? Dangerous.”

  “Back.” Carter came back on the line and we could hear him flipping through pages. “As we discussed before, the Greenbelt Asylum was in operation for fifty years before an inmate burned it to the ground. The owners were abusive. They also owned five hundred acres buttressing the grounds of the asylum, the majority of which has been sold off over the years.”

  “Do you have floor plans?”

  “Not at hand, just on the computer. But I do know that the basement contained the boiler room, and that’s where the explosion happened. There were over three hundred and fifty deaths, and even more patients, so the asylum covered a large area. The building was—in its heyday—five stories high, not counting the basement. You’ll find some of the old ruins still there. A good share of it was lost to the fire, but parts of it still exist, including one of the west wing towers. I think.”

  “You said that atrocities happened there?”

  “Right. Electroshock therapy, starvation therapy, and there’s a lot of reports that the owners raped, abused, and outright murdered the patients. There were rumors that some medical experimentation was practiced and covered up. The hauntings in the area are thick—even with you having defeated Gulakah, it’s going to take decades for it to settle down, and with the energy hangover from something like the asylum, I don’t know how much it ever will.”

  “Anything else you can tell us about the actual asylum’s layout? Where was the entrance?” We needed every scrap of information we could cull on the area. Going blind into a burnt-out shell of a building wasn’t easy under the best of circumstances. And with the power outage giving the ghosts a one-up, I had my doubts we’d have luck on our side.

  “From what I can tell, the entrance was on the Sythica Street side. Do you need the address?”

  I double-checked my notes. “No, we have it—37501 Sythica, right?”

  “Yes. The main entrance was on that side. From what I remember, the dining hall was on the main floor, and the medical facilities were supposed to have been on the fourth floor. I guess they didn’t want to risk any of the inmates’ relatives figuring
out what was going on. I think one corner tower still stands that might have had some of those rooms.”

  Carter let out a deep breath. “To be honest, I think the entire thing should be razed and then bring in a group of various exorcists from different religions to sweep through and clear the area. But the city considers the Greenbelt Asylum an historical landmark. As hideous as it was and as broken down, they aren’t going to tear it down anytime soon. Plus, I still think it’s owned by family.”

  I glanced at Camille. “I guess . . . that’s it then. Thanks, Carter. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, let us know.”

  “Be safe, girls. I can only warn you that the asylum holds more dangers now than it did when it was fully functional. Because the ghosts cannot be so easily stopped, whereas humans can be, once you know what they’re up to.” He signed off.

  “We’re walking into a powder keg.” I glanced at the clock. It was going on eleven. “At least it’s not the middle of the night, but that doesn’t guarantee us anything in terms of the ghosts.”

  Camille slowed down. We were coming off the freeway, back into Seattle, and none of the streetlights were working. People were out and about by now, looking for coffee and hot food, but there were no coffee shops open. Nothing was open. Well, almost nothing. One supermarket appeared to be running on generators and its doors were open. Would be cold as hell in there, but they were getting food to their customers.

  “Want to make a bet they’re sold out of candles and flashlights?” I pointed at the store as we passed.

  “Want to make a bet they’ll be sold out of canned goods and batteries, as well? I hope Roz can find a generator, but given the circumstances, I wouldn’t bet on it.” She cautiously proceeded through an intersection.

  Most of the drivers seemed to be taking extra care, but I wasn’t sure how long it would last. People could be gracious until they were tired of being put out, and then they turned nasty. With luck, we wouldn’t reach that point before the electric company managed to get things up and running again.