Shadow Sight Page 8

  I waited patiently as Kaye scrutinized me over small, gold-rimmed glasses. Her sharp eyes widened as her gaze took in the space around my head, the book she was reading forgotten on her lap. Was she reading my aura? If so, I didn’t like the reflection of what she saw there.

  “Well, I’ll be a faerie’s uncle,” Kaye muttered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing, nothing, just the ramblings of an old woman,” Kaye said. The ramblings of an old woman? Now that was hard to believe. “Father Michael tells me you’ve had your meeting with the demon and survived. He also tells me you are in dire need of information.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Somehow I’ve ended up in the middle of a local turf war between two types of water fae that I know almost nothing about.” I took a deep, slow breath and clamped down on the already rising panic. I needed to face my fear and stay in control. Fear would only help our enemy. “I could really use some information about kelpies and each uisge—strengths, weaknesses, habits, allegiances, that sort of thing.”

  “So what is the job?” Kaye asked. She got right to the point. “The demon vermin wanted you for a specific task, correct?”

  “Yes, he…the demon, is working for kelpies,” I said. “They want my help to find their missing king. The kelpie king, Ceffyl Dŵr, left this behind. I’m told it’s from his bridle.”

  I pulled my bag onto my lap and slowly lifted the wrapped bundle, containing the piece of kelpie bridle, onto Kaye’s desk.

  “Ah, they want you to use your Sight to see who has taken their king, or if he is even still alive,” Kaye said.

  “Yes,” I said, swallowing hard. “Though my primary job is to locate the remainder of Ceffyl Dŵr’s bridle.”

  “Did the demon bother to mention the significance of a kelpie’s bridle?” Kaye asked. I shook my head. The piece emanated powerful magic, even I could tell that, but Forneus hadn’t shed any light onto why. “No? I didn’t think so. Demons are such frustrating creatures. They are so terribly verbose when they wish to be and unbearably laconic when details would be welcome.”

  “Is it significant?” I asked.

  “Well, the kelpies probably don’t want you to know, in case you were to use the information against them, but most of their power is in their bridle,” Kaye said. “If you manage to steal a kelpie bridle, you have absolute control over their actions for as long as it remains in your possession. Of course, a kelpie bridle is not an easy thing to steal.”

  Mab’s bones. I had a very bad feeling about this.

  “There’s more you should know,” I said. I ran a gloved hand through my hair and sighed. “Each uisge are here, in the bay, and they’ve started hunting humans. I was told that kelpies and other local water fae usually defend their home waters against an each uisge threat…”

  “But with the blasted kelpie king missing, they don’t have the guts to stand against them,” Kaye said.

  “Right,” I said. “The kelpies need their king to return, if there’s any hope of fighting the each uisge. But if the each uisge abducted Ceffyl Dŵr and have possession of his bridle…”

  “When he returns, it won’t be to lead his people against the each uisge,” Kaye said. “He’ll be fighting for the enemy. Even if they are attacked directly, the kelpies will not put up much of a fight against their own king. Unless his bridle is retrieved from the each uisge, Ceffyl Dŵr’s people will not survive this battle.”

  “Neither, will we,” I said. “Forneus and Father Michael seem to be in agreement that, if left unchecked, the each uisge will slaughter every human in this city. With the kelpie king leading them against us, we don’t stand a chance.”

  “Did Forneus say how much time we have?” Kaye asked.

  “No, just that the each uisge are already testing the waters with these individual attacks,” I said. “Once they’re convinced that the local kelpies and their allies aren’t willing to oppose them, they’ll swarm the city in a killing spree.”

  “Then there is no time to lose,” Kaye said. She stood up with a flurry of skirts and tinkling of jewelry and began shuffling about the tiny room, thrusting dusty books into my arms. “Take these books to the kitchen. We have spells to brew and a bridle to find if there’s any hope for this city.”

  “Do you think we can find the king’s bridle in time?” I asked.

  I had been afraid to ask, but if she answered while I was standing with watery eyes behind a pile of dusty books, I wouldn’t have to see the fear in her lined face.

  “We best find it, and find it quick, or there will be war,” Kaye said. “And this is one battle that the humans of Harborsmouth have little hope of winning. A few of us will fight, we always do, but there are not enough of us. Not anymore.”

  I expected fear, but Kaye sounded tired and perhaps a bit melancholy. I suppose that’s what happens when you watch everyone around you die. If we went to war with the each uisge, it wouldn’t be Kaye’s first, but it could be our last.

  I peered around the stack of books to see if Kaye was done giving me stuff to carry. She didn’t just sound tired, the old woman looked exhausted. There were dark smudges circling her eyes and deep worry lines around her mouth and below her kerchief that weren’t there before. This threat was taking its toll.

  I vowed then to do everything that I could to find the lost kelpie king and end this thing, fast. I felt guilty for involving Kaye. The demon had hired me to do this job, so the problem was mine to deal with. I desperately needed information regarding the monsters, information that Kaye had, but hadn’t she already done enough for this city?

  “Stop daydreaming and carry those books to the kitchen,” Kaye said, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “In case you haven’t noticed, we have a lot of work to do.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I squeaked. Kaye was right. This was no time for getting lost in thought. No, it was time for action. I ran for the door.

  *****

  Kaye’s battle experience and iron will made her an excellent general for our little ragtag army. Her spell kitchen was quickly transformed into our war room. Maps of the city and surrounding waters were spread across an enormous oak slab table.

  Hob had been coaxed out from beneath his hearthstone to help mark locations of each uisge attacks on the maps before us. He was the only one nimble enough to flit around the table without disturbing the arrangement of markers, but I kept a close watch on his pockets. The rapt look he gave the colorful pieces of sea glass we were using to mark the map revealed his true nature. I was sure that Kaye had promised a gift of sea glass to enlist Hob’s help. I just hoped he could wait until we were actually done using them. Brownies, though long-lived, are not known for their patience.

  I split my attention between watching Hob and studying the pile of books I’d borrowed from Kaye’s personal library. Thick tomes covered the carved plank bench I was straddling. A few lay open to the section on each uisge. I wished I could close them and run away screaming.

  The reproduced paintings and anatomical renderings on those pages were almost too terrifying to believe. I rubbed already tired eyes with gloved fingers. Great, even with my eyes closed, I could see the horrifying, gore-filled, pictures. Disturbing images of each uisge, and their disgusting habits, had burned themselves into my brain. I was definitely going to have new nightmares to add to my repertoire. Oh, joy.

  Turning back to the books, I skimmed the pages trying to glean something useful.

  According to Kaye’s books, an each uisge is a dark skinned water horse that appeared to suffer from a bad case of mange. Either the each uisge depicted in the pictures were a sickly representation, or these fae weren’t overly healthy. Who knows, maybe a diet consisting wholly of human flesh, sans livers, isn’t very nutritious. The beasts were slender to the point of emaciation, with patchy fur and slimy skin pulled tight over hips, ribs, and cheek bones.

  Diseased or not, the each uisge were formidable. Though slender, the average height of an each uisge was documented at
around seventeen hands, six feet, high at the withers, where the base of the neck meets the back. Their hips are hinged so that they can also stand upright on their hind legs. The better to disembowel their victim, I suppose.

  They were, in fact, designed with a disemboweling tool similar to that of a velociraptor. A sickle claw on each hind leg extended from the sesamoid, or fetlock, bones. The rear legs of the each uisge ended in hooves similar to those of other equine creatures, but the front legs were an abomination. The forelegs of an each uisge appear horse-like until you reach the carpus, or knee, where they sprout a fan of needle-like protrusions. These black spines contain a toxic cocktail of poisons and neurotoxins designed to paralyze their prey. Below the spines, the legs are covered in chitinous layers of exoskeleton. Where the layers of exoskeleton overlapped, hard, razor sharp projections, similar to mussel shells, provided additional protection. The forelegs were capped with barnacle and seaweed covered hooves.

  The head of an each uisge resembled a horse with the exception of red gill slits along the elongated neck, fin-like ears, milky white eyes, and the upper jaw of a dire wolf. The bottom jaw could dislocate while eating, allowing it to distend, in order to swallow large prey whole.

  I don’t know how they ate around, or regurgitated, the livers that they leave behind. The book, some kind of encyclopedia of monsters, wasn’t clear on that point. Perhaps they use their sickle claws to disembowel their prey first then proceed to eat the remainder of the body whole. Honestly, if it wouldn’t help with keeping the beasts from killing everyone in Harborsmouth, I really didn’t want to know.

  The most impressive, and horrifying, thing about an each uisge was their teeth. Damn, those things would give the most ancient vampire a whopping case of fang envy. Two large, black fangs, easily the length of my forearm, protruded from the upper jaw. But that wasn’t all. The mouth, when opened wide, revealed a lower jaw filled with two alternating rows of long, pointed, needle-sharp teeth, similar to those of an anglerfish.

  These monsters were about to invade our city? I was already nostalgic for this morning when my biggest worry was tangling with a demon.

  A flitting motion to my left made me raise my head from the book of horrors. I was just in time to see Hob thrust a knobby hand, clutching a piece of blue sea glass, into the pocket of his little brown coat.

  “Put it back,” I whispered. I eyed his pocket knowingly.

  “Don’ know wa’ ta lass speaks of,” Hob said. He was blushing from his neck to his furry brow, but his hand remained in his pocket.

  “As soon as this is over, I’ll buy you a big bag of sea glass,” I said. “But for now, we need to track the movements of the each uisge. It’s important.”

  “Oh, dis bit of purty?” Hob asked. He held it out and when I nodded he started rubbing it on his sleeve. “’twas dirty, lass. Hob was jus givin’ it a bit o’ shine.”

  Right, and I’m the tooth faerie.

  “Okay, just be sure to put it back exactly where it belongs,” I said.

  Hob sighed, but put the piece of blue glass back on the map. The pieces of blue glass indicated areas of missing persons. There were a lot of them. I hoped that they didn’t represent more each uisge attacks. We had enough violent deaths that matched each uisge hunting habits marked with pink glass. So far they were sticking to the area around the bay, but how long would that last?

  My hand strayed to the pouch that held the piece of the kelpie king’s bridle. It was time for me to face the reality of what Forneus had hired me to do. The colored sea glass spreading out over the maps of Harborsmouth, were a clear indication of just how little time we had left. The each uisge were in position for a mass invasion, and they were hungry for flesh and blood. My money was on a full-scale attack within forty-eight hours—and that was a conservative bet.

  I removed the pouch from my backpack, holding it gingerly by the pull-string handles, and set it on the bench. My hands were barely shaking. Go me.

  “So, I guess I’m ready to touch the, um, piece of bridle,” I said, turning to Kaye. “Do you have your spells up?”

  Kaye had offered to set a dampening spell to keep customers from hearing my screams. I’m sure she could have made some excuse about banshees or some other nonsense, but she knew me well enough to know I’d be uncomfortable with the attention. I appreciated, and accepted, the offer. The lack of control over my visions was always frustrating, but when it led to screaming and drooling, it could be downright embarrassing.

  “Just a moment,” Kaye said. She closed her eyes and spoke a few words under her breath. When she opened them again, the walls of the room seemed to shimmer. “The spells are set. Okay, Ivy. You may proceed whenever you are ready.”

  Ouch. I tried not to wince, but Kaye sounded overly formal. She only talks like that when she’s nervous, which is, like, almost never. You may proceed whenever you are ready. At least she didn’t call me ma’am. If that ever happened, I might as well go jump in the each uisge infested bay.

  With a jerky nod, I faked a smile and reached for the small, draw-string bag. Setting it gingerly on my lap, I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Therapy may not have improved my relationship with my parents, but it had helped me cope with anxiety. With one last slow, deep breath, I opened my eyes to stare at my hands resting at either side of the small bag.

  Mab’s bones. Even with the breathing exercises, I was far from calm. I tried to ignore my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. With a shrug, I yanked the wrist strap open on each glove. I continued to remove my gloves, tugging them off one finger at a time, and set them on top of the book I had been reading. Cool air tingled across the backs of my hands. I felt vulnerable, naked.

  The small pouch on my lap was next. The purple Royal Crown bag was cinched at the top. It was difficult to untie the knot with trembling fingers, but, after a few tense minutes, I was able to ease the bag open. Tipping the velvet pouch upside down, I slid out the cloth-wrapped bundle, so small yet filled with the potential to crack this case…or leave me a dribbling mess.

  I was rooting for the former, but if I couldn’t solve this and help the kelpies find their king, then I might as well be a mindless, gibbering fool. I’d rather not be in control of all my senses when the each uisge come. The slaughter of Harborsmouth was not something I ever wanted to experience.

  I unwrapped the final layers of the cloth bundle until a small piece of leather lay exposed. I took a shuddering breath.

  “Now or never, Ivy,” I goaded myself.

  I licked trembling lips, but my mouth was dry. All the moisture seemed to have gone to my hands. I wiped sweaty palms on my thighs and reached for the piece of bridle. Time to discover what happened to Ceffyl Dŵr—why he went missing. I gripped the leather, fingers pressed against silver-threaded engravings, and Kaye’s kitchen disappeared.

  *****

  Just when the pressure in my head and blinding fog seemed unbearable, my ears cleared with a pop and my vision came into focus.

  It’s a good thing kelpies aren’t as horrifying as each uisge. I stood in a flooded cavern, water dripping ceaselessly from stalactites that projected from the limestone ceiling. I was completely surrounded. Hundreds of kelpies milled about the rocky outcroppings and swam in the dark waters. My people…

  Kelpies were gorgeous creatures. In their natural form, the kelpies were slender, yet well-muscled, resembling impressive racehorses. They didn’t share the more horrific mutations of the each uisge, but they did have fin shaped ears that flared from the sides of their head, seaweed woven into mane and tail, and gill slits along the neck. Their dappled grey coats were glossy and smooth like a harbor seal’s.

  I wondered if they shared origins with selkies who also sported seal-like skins. I had learned that anyone who stole the bridle of a kelpie, gained control over them completely. Selkies, similarly, fell under the power of the person who stole their skin. There were many tales of human men stealing and locking away the skin of a selkie woman, forcing her to
become his bride. The similarities were intriguing, but the scene before me was more important.

  I studied the kelpies as they moved to attend their king. A few in their human form moved with otherworldly grace, as though they retained the underlying strength and abilities of their equine bodies. Though similar to human men and women, I would never have mistaken them for anything other than water fae. Their lithe movements were not the only thing to give them away. Each kelpie appeared to have a piece of seaweed entwined in their beautifully sleek hair. I’d have to ask Kaye about the significance of that later. The kelpies also had unnaturally large eyes. Their eyes at first glance appeared to be colorless black, but closer inspection revealed a shade of green, midnight dark, but green nonetheless.

  I was receiving a particularly close look at those eyes, as a large male kelpie knelt before me. He was in his natural equine form and the subservient pose looked awkward to hold. My chest constricted as he leveled his pleading gaze on mine. My son…

  I nodded and the young kelpie’s head was severed. I don’t know exactly what the king’s son had done, but the word that battered my senses was traitor. This was something that happened a long time ago, but a strong psychic impression had been left on the bridle. Ceffyl Dŵr’s pain was intense. I gasped for breath and, with a vertiginous tilt, the scenery shifted.

  This time when my sight cleared, I was the one on my knees. I knelt, in the form of a man, before a strikingly attractive woman. Rage made her blue eyes flash, but even the twist of her full lips into a snarling grimace couldn’t mar her beauty. She had to be fae. No human was that seductive without even trying.

  She paced back and forth behind a low wall of stones and dangled something that cried and wailed as it swung out over the low fire pit. Ceffyl Dŵr was pleading for the woman to stop.

  “Please, Melusine!” he begged. “Let our child go. We have already lost one son. Do not kill our only remaining heir.”