The Downside Ghosts Series Books 1-3: Unholy Ghosts, Unholy Magic, City of Ghosts. Stacia Kane

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       Chapter Eleven

      “Know that where you find isolation, where you find emptiness, so you may also find the displaced soul.”

      —The Book of Truth, Veraxis, Article 178

      “Chess, baby. Guess Terrible don’t kill you after all.” Edsel smiled and leaned back in his rickety chair. Weak sunlight glinted off the silver talismans and tokens dangling from a rack in the corner of his booth and cast bright spots on the tattered burgundy curtains behind him. The city clock hadn’t even chimed noon yet, and Edsel’s booth was still in disarray.

      “You sound disappointed.”

      “Ain’t never disappointed seeing you, you know that. What you need today? You try that Hand yet? I gots some new sleep potions, you interested.”

      “Sleep potions?”

      He shrugged. “Lookin tired, baby.”

      Damn it. She should have bumped up before she left the house.

      After Doyle finally left the night before, she’d tossed and turned for hours. She didn’t imagine many people would be able to slide between the sheets with a blissful smile after watching bloody worms being yanked from their flesh.

      That image—and several other ones even more unpleasant—chased her into her sleep, and she’d finally climbed out of bed just past dawn.

      “I’m fine,” she said. “I was actually hoping you might be able to help me with something else.”

      “Like what?”

      She dug into her bag and pulled out the amulet, wrapped in a scrap of black velvet so she wouldn’t have to touch the metal. Even holding it through the cloth made her skin crawl.

      “You recognize any of these markings?” She set it down on the rickety countertop and unfolded the velvet.

      “Where this came from?”

      Chess shrugged. “Found it.”

      “Ah-huh.” Edsel leaned closer to it, but made no move to pick it up. “Look to me like you best take it back you found it. Don’t see no positive in that thing, baby. I feel it vibin at me from here.”

      “I can’t take it back. It’s … it’s part of an investigation. None of the marks look familiar?”

      “Can’t say they does, but … on the minute. That there look like Etosh. And two down from that, could be Tretso.”

      “What do they mean?”

      “Tretso a bastard rune, you get me? A combination of two. Intensifies other runes, adds power, but say nothing on its own. Etosh … it feeds. Directs Tretso to where the amulet maker want it to go.”

      “So I have two runes here calculated to add power to the others, but we don’t know what any of the others are.”

      “Sorry I ain’t better help.” Edsel glanced at the amulet again, his lip twisted in distaste. “Don’t guess nobody could help with that thing, if the Church can’t.”

      They might be able to, if she could ask them. But she couldn’t. What was she supposed to do, walk into the Grand Elder’s office and tell him she’d found it on the street? Something like this?

      She nodded. Her fingers moved slowly, sluggishly, as she covered the amulet in velvet once again. “Thanks anyway, Edsel.”

      “Your hand right?”

      She nodded. The cut on her palm did look less ugly this morning, but she didn’t think she’d feel comfortable until it was healed completely. Worms … her nose wrinkled. “Just a scratch.”

      “Cool. You know … now I think on it, could be I know somebody help you with them runes. Name of Tyson, you know him?”

      She shook her head. “Is he here?”

      “Naw, not here. Don’t live in Downside, not even in the city. Old-timer, aye? Got himself a place outside town, by the water. Don’t know how to get in touch with him, though. He come by sometimes. Not stupid, Tyson. He come again, I give him your number?”

      “You know if Tyson’s his first or last name?”

      “Only know Tyson. He never say nothing else.”

      Chess slipped the velvet-covered amulet back in her bag and zipped it up. “Yeah, give him my number if you see him, Edsel. Thanks.”

      “No problem. Keep it clean, baby.” He turned away and started unpacking boxes, preparing for the day’s customers, while Chess wandered off through the Market. Terrible was going to show up soon to take her back to Chester today, to hunt for electrical equipment she’d have to pretend not to see or ghosts she’d have to pretend not to be able to Banish.

      She stopped and bought a bowl of noodles from a permanent booth not far from Bump’s place, and slurped them with chopsticks as she loitered outside the doors. The couches downstairs would be full if she made her way down. They always were on Mondays, no matter what time the day or night. She had ten dollars in her pocket—enough for a long afternoon of soft dreams.

      A long afternoon she couldn’t have, and as if to confirm that, heavy footsteps sounded behind her and she turned to see Terrible advancing like a tank.

      Chester Airport in the sunlight lost none of the feeling of abandoned threat it held at night. The rickety old terminal huddled off to the left like a lonely widower, and the rusty fences looked ready to blow away.

      Chess tried and failed to keep from seeking out the spot where she’d found the amulet. What ritual had taken place here, in the dusty grass?

      She СКАЧАТЬ