“Whoa.” I craned my neck to look upward. “Only fancy people buried here.”
“For the most part. This is the supernatural section. Blocked from human tourists.”
“They can’t see it?”
“Precisely. And they’re directed away by other pressing matters.”
Like the Undercover Protectorate’s castle. It was a handy magic.
Lachlan walked up to the heavy iron gate that blocked our way through the arch. I followed, shuddering at the magic that raced over my skin. It stung like the bite of fire ants.
“Holy fates.” I rubbed my arms, wincing. “Supernaturals aren’t welcome either.”
“Not without invitation, no.”
I debated using my shield magic, but didn’t want to waste it. I could take a little pain.
Lachlan sucked in a deep breath, then pressed his hand to the heavy iron gate. A sizzling noise sounded, and the air around his palm seemed to smoke slightly. He winced and pushed the door open.
Holy fates, it was burning his hand.
“Go.” His voice was rough.
I darted through the gate, and he followed, shaking his hand.
The path into the cemetery stretched ahead of us, bordered on both sides by small crypts and towering trees. It seemed darker in here, and colder, as if it were nighttime.
The air crackled with protective magic, still burning my skin. I hurried forward to get past the protective barrier.
Within ten feet, the feeling faded, and I sighed.
The air exploded with motion. Figures lunged out from one of the crypts, their claws outstretched for us.
I flung out my hand, calling on my magic and blasting my shield outward.
It exploded in a flash of white, creating a barrier between us and the creatures.
“That’s handy,” Lachlan said.
Panting, I studied our attackers. There were six of them, and all looked to be in various states of decay.
“Zombies?” I asked.
“Revenants. They’re similar. They guard the cemetery from visitors without an invitation. We have to convince them to let us pass.”
“Convince?”
They hissed and clawed at my protective shield, their skin peeling off their muscles and flashes of white bone peeking through. They stank like death and decay, making my eyes water.
I shivered.
“Fight,” Lachlan said.
“Yeah, that’s about what I—”
My shield faltered and died. Panic stabbed me as the revenants lunged forward, their mouths gaping open.
Instinct took over. I called two daggers from the ether, gripping one in either hand, then flung them toward the closest revenants. They plunged into the beasts’ necks, sending them flying backward.
The creatures stumbled to the ground, but the other four leapt forward.
Lachlan drew two short swords from the ether—they were more like massive daggers, really. He sprang for the nearest revenant, crossing both blades and dragging them across the creature’s neck like scissors. The head toppled to the ground, and the body followed.
All right, then.
I drew a sword from the ether. It wasn’t my preferred weapon, but I was handy with it. I was handy with all weapons, actually.
Someone with my wimpy magic had to be.
A revenant with one eye was nearly on me, so close I could smell its fetid breath. I swung my sword, going for the neck. It sliced through cleanly, and I thanked my lucky stars I’d saved up for the expensive steel.
As the head tumbled to the ground, I kicked out and sent the body flying after it. Then I whirled and struck out at another revenant, taking his head just as quickly.
Next to me, Lachlan moved so fast that he was a blur. Revenant heads flew, and within seconds, they were all down.
He turned to me, not a hair out of place. His breathing hadn’t even changed. His gaze surveyed the three revenants at my feet. “Well done.”
“Thanks.” But I couldn’t enjoy the praise.
My shield had died.
My magic was acting up. That had to be part of the transition to Dragon God.
Please don’t notice.
“But we’d better get a move on.” He nodded at something on the ground, and I looked down.
A revenant body was crawling toward a head. “Ah crap.”
“Come on.” He waited for me to come, then followed.
“How long until they put themselves back together?”
“Not long, but they won’t be our problem at that point. We just have to get away from the gate. Once we’re out of their turf, they can’t sense us.”
“These ghosts sure are picky about who visits.”
“They like a little warning, at least.”
As soon as he said it, I swore I felt eyes on me. I peered around. Rain poured on the headstones and crypts that surrounded the path, weighing down the trees’ leaves. Puddles gleamed in the grass. A hazy mist lay heavy on the ground, but my eyes were drawn toward the trees.
I squinted, catching sight of little gleaming lights.
Eyes.
“Someone is watching us,” I murmured. I gripped my sword more tightly.
“Bats. They have ghostly masters who can see through their eyes.”
“Great.” I swallowed hard. I liked a challenge, but if all the ghosts in this cemetery decided they didn’t want us here, we’d be hard-pressed to make it out. “Can you make a portal out of here?”
“Thinking up a quick escape?”
“Maybe.”
“Unfortunately, no. This place is guarded.”
“Dang.”
Noise sounded from up above, and lights cut through the gloom. I picked up my pace, but kept my senses alert.
Soon, the graveyard came alive. It was as if we’d stepped onto a ghostly city street. All the figures were shades of transparent blue-gray, and dressed in clothes from at least three centuries. The free-standing crypts and mausoleums had their doors swung wide. I peeked inside, realizing that they’d been turned into shops and bars, restaurants and salons.
“This is amazing,” I murmured.
“Biggest ghost city in the world.”
A woman wearing a fantastically huge ball gown looked at me, and then her gaze darted to Lachlan. She smiled and gestured him closer, a come-hither look in her eyes.
I didn’t know what she thought she was going to accomplish with a guy who wasn’t a ghost, but if I were her, I’d probably try it, too.
Lachlan inclined his head politely, and kept walking. We passed by street merchants hawking their wares—ghostly clothing and food, mostly—as well as street musicians and patrolmen on ghostly horses. They looked like old-timey cops. But dead.
The patrolmen looked at us from beneath the brims of their hats, their eyes glowing a bright green.
“They’re the ones who see through the bats’ eyes?” I whispered.
“Aye.”
Lachlan raised a hand in a subtle greeting, and the patrolmen nodded.
“They know you?”
“I come here occasionally.” He stopped and ducked through the low doorway of a large mausoleum.
I followed, stepping into a raucous nightclub from the early twentieth century. Or maybe the late nineteenth. I wasn’t an expert, but the decor and clothes were old. There were chorus girls, though, the fancy French kind with the ruffled skirts that flared high as they kicked their legs toward the ceiling.
A skinny ghost with a top hat banged away at an old piano as the revelers swilled glasses of gleaming green liquid. The air of the place was jovial, but a few turned to glare at us.
“They don’t always like the living,” Lachlan murmured.
“Oh, I don’t know. Doesn’t seem so bad to be dead.”
“They’ve created something nice here, but some still want to leave.”
I could understand. I didn’t like being stuck either. I edged closer to Lachlan as we made our way toward the bar. Ghosts were tricky in a fight. Nearly impossible to destroy since they were already dead, and some of them still had their magic.
Which put us at a distinct disadvantage.
There were a few figures leaning against the bar, and Lachlan chose to approach a chorus girl. A cigarette dangled from her fingertips, and her eyes glowed with a similar light as she watched him approach.
I might as well have not existed, which was probably for the best. I lingered in the shadows, just close enough to hear, and let him get down to it.