Page 6 of Feathered Web

“No, zombies are empty vessels with a primal hunger drive. The Unliving are so driven to keep their connection with the physical world that their spirit creates their bodies. The queens of the Unliving are actually fallen spirit shamans who have displeased the Morrígan. Vampires are turned by blood, so they’re a different creation altogether, and nobody knows exactly how they came to be. They’re trapped in their bodies, rather than creating their bodies.”

Kerris stopped as the waitress returned, carrying a huge tray with our dinners on it. As she handed around our plates, the waitress seemed to sense our mood and she kept a silent smile on her face. Then, with a soft “Just ask if you need anything else,” she left.

We took a few minutes to eat in silence. I was deep in my thoughts about both Walter and the Gatekeeper. Kerris seemed like a nice woman, but intense, and I realized that the job she had—spirit shaman—probably kept her cloaked in shadows constantly.

“What do you do? I’ve never been quite clear on what the function of a spirit shaman is,” I asked, after that first mad dash at the food. We all seemed hungry, from what I could tell.

Kerris cleared her throat and set her fork down. “Spirit shamans keep the dead from wandering. We’re more than what you’d call a ghost buster. We literally guard the cemeteries and watch for the dead who do not want to go through the Veil.”

“And are there a lot of them in Whisper Hollow?” Killian asked.

“Too many. Given some of the spirit beings we have there, including the Lady of the Lake, we lose more people on an annual average than just about anywhere else in the United States,” she said. “And a number of them don’t want to go. So they fight to stay once they’re in spirit form.”

“You said your grandmother was a spirit shaman?” I asked.

“She was. My mother should have been, but she was murdered when I was young and she never had the chance to take up her post. It’s a complicated and tangled story, and I only found out who killed her and why when I returned to Whisper Hollow.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “My parents are both dead, and it was hard enough as an adult to lose them.”

“Yeah, it’s never easy,” Kerris said with a shrug. “If Bryan and I have a daughter, she’ll become a spirit shaman. If not, then when I pass on, they’ll have to bring in someone new from a different place. We’ve been trying to get pregnant—I’m not getting any younger—but so far no luck. The doctor said there’s no physical reason for me not getting pregnant, so I’ll have to trust him and hope that nature takes its course.”

Nodding, I pulled out my phone and texted Rowan. we need to talk to you. can you see us tonight? i’m with kerris, the spirit shaman of whisper hollow, and she needs our help. it’s urgent.

I started to tell them that I had texted my grandmother when my phone alerted me to an incoming text. “Hold on,” I said.

come over as soon as you can, Rowan texted back.

“Okay, my grandmother wants to see us tonight. I’ll tell her we’ll be there after dinner.” I replied to Rowan, then set my phone down. “My grandmother’s pretty incredible, though she can be more than a little intimidating.” I added, “Just so you aren’t too surprised, she lives with a demon.”

“A demon?” Kerris coughed on her salad. She took a sip of water, then added, “Your grandmother is involved with a demon? Do I understand that correctly?”

I laughed. “Yeah, but he’s not evil.” I told them about Tarvish and how he had come to be here. “So, you see, if he went back into the computer system, he’d vanish—cease to exist. And he’s just too nice to do that to. Then he and my grandmother hit it off and… Well, I don’t expect to be calling him ‘Grandpa’ any time soon, but I could do worse.”

“Yeah, you could,” Kerris said. “My grandfather—the man I thought was my grandfather—was an absolute monster. I’m grateful I met my real grandpa, but I’d rather have a demon for a grandfather than the one I grew up with.”

Kerris sounded like she’d had a rough life, but I didn’t want to pry. Instead, I shifted the subject to my work, which brought Walter back to mind, but I sidestepped his death and focused on explaining Conjure Ink and the work we were doing, until we were finished with dinner and ready to head over to Rowan’s.

CHAPTER THREE

My grandmother had told me not to eat dessert, so we had left after our entrees were finished. As we walked through the trellised gate, covered with ivy and climbing roses still barren from the winter, the front porch light was on.

My paternal grandmother was both the oldest witch in Moonshadow Bay and also the most powerful. Her house, like Killian’s and mine, backed up against the Mystic Wood, a thicket that wove through Moonshadow Bay with a magical force almost unmatched in the area. The woodland surrounded the town, shrouding it in a web of magic and mystery. Filled with odd beings—some of whom were dangerous, others not so much—the Mystic Wood kept its secrets tight to its chest.

Rowan’s house was one-story, and it was one of the oldest houses in the town, but she kept it up. Its weathered look was from time, rather than disrepair, and it hearkened from before the town was properly founded. Lights flickered from within the mullioned windows.

The land it was on was a haven for trees: cedar and fir mostly, but also maple, and a weeping sequoia that looked like some tree creature that had stepped out of a fairytale. Three steps led up to the porch, and a gargoyle knocker was flush on the door.

I knocked and she answered immediately.

“Come in. It’s cold out there.” Rowan gave me a brief hug as Killian and I slipped through the door. She was not a demonstrative person, but her feelings were real and I never felt slighted by her.

Rowan nodded for the others to follow, then closed the door and led us into the living room. Tarvish was sitting there, his massive frame comfortably draped in the oversized recliner. He looked like Hellboy, only with his massive horns curved back around like those of a ram. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and an AC/DC T-shirt. He was barefoot, his massive feet sporting enough hair for a hobbit. Two young cats sat on his lap. Tarvish and Rowan had recently discovered a litter of kittens and, thanks to Tarvish, my grandmother now had four cats. They were barely a year old, two silver tabbies, a gray tuxedo, and one that had a black and white cow pattern, and they ruled the house by now.

Tarvish gently placed the kittens on the floor and stood. He towered over the rest of us, and it was a good thing that Rowan’s house had tall ceilings.

“Welcome,” he said, giving me a hug. “Introduce us to your friends.”

I motioned for Kerris and Bryan to have a seat on the sofa. Killian sat in an armchair and I moved over to the rocker. “Kerris Fellwater and Bryan Tierney, meet my grandmother, Rowan Firesong and her beau, Tarvish.”

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