Page 44 of Devils and the Dead
“I can sense magic,” he informed me, as if this was no big deal.
“Allmagic?” We all had the ability to sense certain types of magic, but without an enchanted object, like something Bronwyn could create, neither me nor my sisters could feel or recognize all the different types of magic even in Accident.
“All magic.” He sipped his coffee. “But my ability to sense residual magic isn’t quite as fine-tuned.”
“So if I animated a dead bird then returned it to the grave, how long could you sense my magic on the body?” I asked.
He smiled. “You are incredibly powerful. I believe I could probably sense the necromantic magic for a week or so. I would recognize the magic as yours as well.”
I caught my breath, wondering if he’d caught my magic on the souls who’d returned to hell, or the graves at Rita’s farm. It had been two weeks since I’d raised the zombies, so I was hoping that had been enough time for my magic to dissipate.
“Do you feel my magic even when I’m not casting a spell?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “It’s not just residual magic that clings to you after you’ve done a magical working. You’re a witch. You’re a necromancer. I can see the magic that’s a part of who you are. And there was that dead opossum you animated and put in the backseat that first night when we went to the Disco Diner.”
I laughed, remembering the opossum. “So you sense my sisters’ magic as well? Lucien’s? Nash’s? Everyone here in the diner?”
“In the diner?” He grinned. “Three gnomes, two harpies, an ifrit, two pixies, a goblin, a sylph, and two mermaids. There’s a shifter in the kitchen.”
My mouth dropped open, amazed. This guy was as good as one of Bronwyn’s amulets, and he didn’t need a magical recharge every few weeks.
“You’ll be able to sense the Everbloom?” Maybe I wouldn’t need to communicate with Tinsel and cause him additional pain. If Hades could hone in on the artifact like a divining rod, it would save us a lot of time as well. I’d invited him along because I wanted his company, and never thought that he might have abilities that could make the hunt for the Everbloom easier.
“I probably won’t be able to step foot on the mountain and know right where it is,” he warned. “From what you said, it’s been deactivated with no living elves around. So whatever magical signature it has would be subtle. But I will definitely recognize that it’s not a normal flower, or stick, or clump of mud. And I’ll pick up elven magical signatures from the portal and the curse, so I’d also be able to tell the Everbloom from, say, a ring of mushrooms that maybe the fairies have enchanted.”
So, not quite as easy as I’d hoped when he first told me about his abilities, but it was reassuring to know he’d be able to recognize the elven artifact no matter what form it might be in.
We finished our coffee, discussing the best ways to conduct the search, then I drove up to the werewolf compound. Our wolf escorts ran alongside my car for the last half mile, yipping and howling to signal our arrival. Clinton came out as we were parking. I got out and introduced Hades. The alpha werewolf dismissed the others and the three of us walked together to the cordoned off lumberyard.
“I don’t like this, Babylon,” Clinton told me. “I worry about you going to meet that elf queen in her territory. There’s not as many ghost sightings now that a dozen of them have been set free from the curse. I might be able to convince the other werewolves to stay here with the bleeding, screaming, haunted tree.”
I appreciated his offer, but we both knew his pack would flee from Savior Mountain if I didn’t do something about the bleeding, screaming, haunted tree. In addition, that bleeding, screaming, haunted tree was Tinsel, and I couldn’t just give up and let him suffer under a curse for all of eternity when there was something I could do to help him.
And in the end, I’d struck a deal with the elf queen. One didn’t just ignore a bargain made with fae. If I didn’t deliver the goods, Clinton’s werewolf pack and the rest of Accident would have a whole lot more to deal with than a screaming, bleeding, haunted tree. They’d have war.
“I need to do this,” I assured the alpha. Then I turned to Hades. “You might want to stand back with the werewolves while I try to talk to Tinsel. It’s…unsettling.”
“I designed hell. Every day I walk by souls being punished. I’m okay with unsettling,” he told me. “Besides, there must be something I can do to help. Set up candles? Help draw sigils? Hold the incense?”
His offer gave me an idea. I dug around in my bag and pulled out a vial of dirt. “Here. Hold this. I’ve got something I want to try after I talk to Tinsel.
Hades looked at the vial. “Grave dirt?”
I nodded. “The elf queen can tell when someone’s messing with the curse. I don’t think she’ll interfere if I’m just speaking with Tinsel. I mean, it is in her best interest for us to find the Everbloom so we can return it to her. But if I’m holding that grave dirt while I’m working my magic, and she somehow senses it…”
“Then she might think the bargain is off and show up with an army.” Hades eyed the vial again. “But a bystander not actively involved in your spell and holding a container of dirt isn’t something she’ll be bothered about.”
I nodded. “I doubt her reach goes any further than the curse, Tinsel, and the log. She probably won’t even know you’re there.”
“Is there anything else I can do to help?” Hades asked.
I glanced over at the green portal, wondering if the queen came through to snatch me, or harm me, what he could do. Other than teleport between here and the afterlife structures he’d design, and his ability to sense magic, what could Hades do? Did he have any defensive magic? Any offensive magic?
“Get a good read on the elf magic,” I finally said. “The queen’s curse, Tinsel’s magic if you can sense it, and anything else that feels similar. I’m going to really need your help in finding the Everbloom. I doubt Tinsel is going to tell me the exact coordinates of where it is. The queen is listening and he won’t want her to know.”
Plus, in typical fae fashion he’d cloak it all in metaphor or riddles or something.
I refreshed the chalk runes, lit four candles and cast a protective circle with both Hades and myself on the inside and Clinton watching from about fifty feet away. Then I took out my athame and sunk it into the rotted bark of the tree as I called out for Tinsel. Blood welled up around the knife, and I heard the elf scream in pain.
