“Not Death Keepers. It isn’t a soul stone; it is an accumulation of dying spectres. By themselves they are powerless, but together, they are a deadly force.”
The leader of the men, a surly fellow, shouted, “Enough. Hand over the stone.”
Imara kept her hand clenched, and she shook her head. “No. It’s fucking dangerous.”
Argus slid her to her feet, and Mr. E crept to her shoulder.
She stood with her hands at her sides. “I am not going to give up this stone. I don’t want your deaths on my hands.”
The guys blinked, and their spokesman said, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You didn’t put this in place. It was done for you by someone who specializes in death. This stone was getting stronger with each screaming client, and soon, the mages would have been strong enough to do more than gather stray energy, and the people they would feed off are those who are close to it at a fixed proximity.”
The men looked at each other, and in the next heartbeat, full darkness fell. The XIA agents moved silently, and when the head of the thugs said, “Fuck it,” and charged, the extranaturals moved in and took over.
Argus lunged forward, but he dropped his griffin. Imara bent to pick it up, and one of the thugs tackled her.
She went down to the gravel with a thud. Mr. E went flying.
A grubby hand scrabbled at her wrist, but she didn’t open her hand. No one was getting that stone.
A low growl got the idiot’s attention, and Imara’s hellkitten had morphed into a hellcat once again. His eyes glowed with rich flames, and he grabbed the man clawing at her by the back of his shirt, flicking him away toward the parked cars.
He stood next to her while she got back to her feet. When she was standing and had the stuffies in her custody once again, she leaned on him and watched the zip-tying of the thugs from the haunted house.
Argus came up to her after glancing warily at Mr. E. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I think so. I have a grip on the stone, and that is what matters.”
“Imara, your hand is turning black.”
She nodded. “I thought so. I am using my life force to wrap around the stone. It consumes me much more slowly than it does normal humans or other mages.”
“Consumes?”
Mr. E’s giant head lapped at her fist, and she opened it slightly. A moment later and her skin felt like skin again.
“What happened? Mr. E, what did you do?”
Her familiar looked at her with a smug demeanour, and he shrank back down into his normal fuzzy form.
Don’t worry; I can regurgitate it when we get to a safe storage area.
Imara flexed her hand and ignored the kitten climbing her thigh, dangled from her shirt, and continued up her arm.
When he was settled against the back of her neck, she turned to Argus. “Well, he has it. So, now, we need a place to safely store it.”
“Can’t we take it to a repository?”
“No. This thing is dangerous. Degraded spectres are worn down to the basic compulsions. They want freedom, power, and life again. They can’t have the life, and it makes them angry, so they take what they can. They have no intellect; they can’t be reasoned with. They are formless ghouls. Creepy fuckers.”
He blinked. “Right. Well, where do you suggest?”
“A Death Keeper made this, so until we figure out who that was, it needs to be safe from interference.”
Lio came forward and offered, “Why don’t you contact Ritual Space? They might have some sort of facility for storing powerful artifacts.”
Argus pulled out his phone and dialled. “Good evening, Madam Adrea. My name is Agent Argus Dencroft with the XIA, and I need your help.”
Imara got a slight smile as Argus went into detail on the phone.
Why are you so happy?
He asked for help.
Her kitten snorted and rubbed his head against her neck.
Argus turned to her and extended his phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
Imara took the phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, I am Adrea from Ritual Space. Who am I talking to and what do you have that needs our special brand of concealment?”
“My name is Imara Mirrin, I am a Master Death Keeper and a student at Depford College. The object that we need secure storage for is an accumulation stone. Some idiot Death Keeper has fused nearly a dozen faded spectres into one stone. This makes it an excellent power source for a weak mage, and it makes it a deadly weapon in the wrong hands. Until I can unravel and disperse the spectres, I need a safe place to put the stone.”
“Can you do that?”
“Oh, yes. I have an affinity for the dead.”
“How long will it take?”
“Well, provided that it goes smoothly, I should be able to disperse the mages in about eight weeks. I am a student, after all. It is a bit out of the way for me, but I can make it there once a week at your convenience.”
“Have Argus bring you in. I look forward to seeing what you can do.”
Imara smiled, though Adrea couldn’t see her. “Thank you.”
She hung up and smiled at Argus. “We are good.”
“Really?”
“Yes, she will help us.”
“How long can Mr. E hold that thing?”
“Two hours, tops. So, please, let’s get out of here.”
Lio called out, “What do we charge them with?”
Imara answered, “Possession and use of an uncontained artifact of mass destruction.”
Argus whistled and looked at Mr. E. “Right. Well, we had better get it somewhere safer. Get in the car, and I will get you to safety.”
She nodded and looked out at the sea of dark SUVs. “Um. Give me a hint.”
He walked up to one of the vehicles and opened the door. She hopped up and settled into the seat, buckling up and keeping her stuffed animals at her feet. Her live buddy she kept against her and kept a hand on as they left the carnival parking lot and headed back to the highway.
Her fuzzy buddy’s body temperature was lowering. His normally warm little tummy was approaching her skin temperature.
Ritual space was less than half an hour away. They would have plenty of time.
“So, what was going on with your hand, precisely?”
She flexed her fingers. “It was dying slowly. It’s an emergency response that I learned from Thomins. He was the one who offered me an apprenticeship, and he eventually pushed through my journeyman papers with the guild.”
“A good man.”
She snorted. “A man who liked to have someone to do the bulk of the maintenance on the spectre stones. He was a good friend, though, in as much of a friend as I had in those days.”
Imara continued, “He taught me to block energy from my limbs in case of a thirsty spectre.”
“Have you run into one of these before?”
She nodded. “Once. Death Keepers are given bonuses for clearing shattered and worn spectres from their memorial gardens or repositories. A friend of Thomins was filling in for a few hours while Thomins got some dental work finished up, and he took a stone out and showed it to me. I can only describe it as horrific. He had cleared out his fading section to make room for more spectres and stuffed the remaining traces of passed mages into the stone in his hand.”
“Let me guess, Thomins came in.”