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

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СКАЧАТЬ should have been amusing, the offer of a cookie from a man whose eyes kept sliding into and out of gray and lived in a museum of sorcery. But his smile was a little too wide, a little too full of teeth. She couldn’t help but wonder what sort of cookie he might have made.

      According to Church law, world-bound souls were not permitted to exist. The human host could be sent to prison, one of the special prisons where souls were tortured and escape was impossible. Chess wondered why Tyson did not seem afraid she might report him. Most tried to hide their binding. He did not.

      “No, thank you,” she said, realizing he and Terrible were both watching her. “Can we just get down to business? I’m afraid I’m in kind of a hurry today.”

      “Of course. The formalities are only that—formalities. Having dispensed with them we may conclude our transaction at any pace thou desires.”

      “Um. Great.” She pulled out the amulet, wrapped in its tea towel. “I was hoping you would be able to decipher some of the runes on this, they—what?”

      Tyson collected himself with some effort. His eyes smoothed back to gray as he forced the smile to leave his face, but Chess could still feel his amusement, could still hear his light laugh in the air. “I am sorry, Cesaria. Tell me, where did thou find this thing?”

      “I can’t say.”

      He nodded and held out one large hand, his too-slim fingers curving gently like seaweed in the tide. “May I hold it, please?”

      She set it and the cloth in the center of his palm, hoping he didn’t notice her reluctance to touch his skin. He whipped the towel away, closing his fingers around the amulet and holding it up.

      “Oh, aye,” he said. “It does its little job, does it not? Hmmm.” He brought it to his nose, stuck out his tongue for a taste. His eyes rolled back in his head. “Thou has given it blood, Cesaria.”

      “It was an accident.”

      He chuckled, like a clogged engine coughing its way into life. “Accidents do happen.” His hand snapped shut. “I can tell much of it. What shall I get in return? The book needs its sacrifice if it is to open.”

      “What book? Can’t you just tell me?”

      “The words cannot be spoken unless cast. Thou must read them, but not say out loud.”

      Nothing good could possibly come of this. She saw herself at the door, saw Terrible behind her as they left and climbed back up the hill to his car, saw them hauling ass away from here and back to the city.

      Then she saw Slipknot, with his body rotting more every minute and his soul trapped inside the maggoty, desiccated ruin, and she knew she could not go.

      “What’s the price?” She picked up her bag, ready to dig into her wallet. For that matter, she was ready to make Terrible dig into his. Bump would be paying both of them back. This was his project, he could use his own damn money.

      “Oh. Thou offers money.” Those extra teeth of Tyson’s glowed in the dim light. “The book does not require such cold sacrifice, dear. It asks for something more … Perhaps thou had better see. Wait here.”

      Chess and Terrible exchanged glances as he got up and disappeared through that black door, the shiny gold and red fabric of his robe floating behind him.

      “You ain’t get this learning any elsewhere?”

      She shook her head.

      He sighed. “Ain’t liking this, not one bit.”

      She was about to reply when Tyson swept back into the room, holding a book flat in front of him. At first Chess thought Tyson had cut himself on something in the other room, that he either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. Then she realized the blood spattering onto his robe and absorbing into the dirt floor wasn’t his.

      It was coming from the book.

      It dripped dark and clotted from the covers and oozed out from the pages. Chess’s skin crawled. She did not want to read that thing, didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want to go near it. Her palm burned and itched, the tattoos on her arms warmed as the book was brought closer to her.

      Tyson nudged a small table with his foot and looked at Terrible. “Will thou bring it over?”

      Terrible’s face did not move as he lifted the table and set it in front of Chess, but when his eyes met hers she read the message in them. He felt it, too, didn’t like this any more than she did.

      It couldn’t be helped. She tried not to cringe away when Tyson set the bloody book on the table, forcing herself instead to reach for it. Tyson’s hand stopped her.

      “Thou is sure? Thou is ready to touch the book?” His eyes gleamed.

      “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

      Terrible stepped forward. “Give it me.”

      “No. This isn’t your—”

      “Ain’t having you do it, Chess. It’s why I come along, aye?”

      Droplets of blood plunked onto the dirt, loud in the silence while she and Terrible looked at each other.

      “One of thee decide, if it pleases,” Tyson said. “Charming as this little moment is, I haven’t got all day to watch.”

      Chess reached out, but Terrible was faster. The tips of the fingers on his left hand brushed the cover, and the book flew open, scattering drops of blood everywhere, onto him, onto Chess, onto the walls and furniture.

      She barely noticed. She could not tear her eyes away as the pages shifted, fluttered, brushing against Terrible’s hand, then finally falling open, clean and white. The blood was gone.

      For a moment, anyway. Then it started again, spreading across the pages in a crimson flood, forming words and symbols that seemed to float above the parchment.

      Terrible grunted softly, an uncomfortable sound, one she did not like. His hand, which had been resting on top of the book, seemed to shrink, to flatten, and she realized it was actually sinking in. The blood on the page now was his.

      He sank to his knees, his face flushing, his eyes closed.

      “Terrible? Terrible?”

      He shook his head. “Ain’t … no …”

      “Terrible!” She reached for him, meaning to pull his arm away, but Tyson’s voice stopped her.

      “Thou had best get the knowledge,” he said. “Quickly, lest the book kill thy guard before thou do.”

       Chapter Twenty

      “Often we find ourselves as parents unsure how to guide our children. In those cases we should simply look for the Truth, and we will be correct. Protecting our children is the highest way of serving humanity and Truth.”

      —Families СКАЧАТЬ