Ghost Light

“If the Danse Macabre has already begun, you will need a way to disrupt the spell,” he said.  “I found a holy verse which may cancel out the powers of the demon flute and halt the dance.  Say the words, Sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio, contra nequitiam et insidias diaboli esto praesidium.  Imperet illi Deus, supplices deprecamur, tuque, Princeps militiae coelestis, satanam aliosque spiritus malignos, qui ad perditionem animarum pervagantur in mundo, divina virtute, in infernum detrude.  Amen.”

“No offense, Father,” I said.  “But I suck at Latin.  Can you send that to me in a text message?”

“Yes, of course,” he said.

“Thanks, give Galliel a hug for me,” I said.  “I’ll see you both when this is over.”

“Ivy, the church grim is still here,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Don’t worry,” I said.  “Omens aren’t set in stone.  We can always change our fate.  I’ll bring those kids home safe.”

“I will pray for you,” he said.

“Thanks, padre,” I said.

I ended the call and hurried to catch up with Jinx and Ceff.  I wished I believed my words to the priest.  I liked to think that we could change fate, if we tried hard enough, but death omens are tricky business.  We’d need the priest’s prayers if we hoped to make it through the next fifteen minutes unscathed.

Chapter 22

We quickly left the cemetery gates behind.  Color returned to Ceff’s face as we put distance between us and the iron gates and he now ran without Jinx’s assistance.  We sprinted through the cemetery looking for sign of the children.

We moved with such speed that headstones appeared, as if by magic, in the swirling fog.  I was glad for my fae-boosted night vision and quick reflexes.  Jinx wasn’t so lucky.  Her shins and knees were bloodied from stumbling into unseen obstacles, but still she ran on.

We searched every tomb and mausoleum, but there was no sign of the children.  I checked the time again—it was eleven fifty-nine.  The statues of angels looked down from lofty perches atop monuments and pedestals.  Their sightless eyes seemed mocking as I tried to hold out hope.

I ran faster, my breath ragged and legs burning.  A light danced in the distance and I stopped.  My pulse pounded in my ears as I tried to hold my breath.  As I watched, more lights joined the first to dance through the air.  That was no flashlight.

Those were wisps.

I’d never seen a full-blooded wisp before.  Nothing, not even the glimpses in my visions, had prepared me for how captivatingly beautiful they were.  Kaye had shown me artist renderings of my brethren, but the paintings and sketches hadn’t done them justice.  The wisps glowed like the light of the sun—and pulled at me with a star’s gravity.

These were my people.  Mine.  I felt something akin to a mother’s love for these beautiful spheres of light.  Warmth flooded my body and flames seemed to lick at my skin.  With a maternal bond comes a fierce protective instinct.  I gripped my knives tightly, a growl forming deep in my chest.  Melusine and The Piper had involved the wisps in their dark plans.  For that I’d make them pay.

I shook my head, pushing away thoughts of revenge.  I needed to focus on the problem at hand.  If the wisps were in the cemetery ahead of us, the children must be nearby.  Miraculously we’d found the correct cemetery, but we were still running out of time.

Keeping an eye on the wisps, I turned to the side and waved to Jinx and Ceff who were running up behind me.  I held up my hand for them to wait and pointed to the wisps.  I wasn’t sure if they’d seen the small faeries yet.  I pointed to myself and gestured for them to stay back and let me approach first.

I crept toward the nearest wisp, heart racing.  I needed to save the children and my people.  If I could get close enough, I might be able to reason with the wisp, maybe.  I felt the growing bond between us, but these wisps had never met their princess.  And I, for all my royal blood, had never before encountered one of my people.  I had no idea if we could even communicate with each other.  But I had to try.

The glowing ball of light hovered above a headstone, casting the epitaph into sharp relief.  When I was near enough to read the engraving, I came slowly out of my crouch and cleared my throat.  The wisp ducked behind the headstone, seeming to wink in and out of existence with its speed.

“Wait,” I said.  I kept my voice low.  If Melusine or The Piper were nearby, I didn’t want to give away my position.  “I am the daughter of Will-o’-the-Wisp.”

A piece of me finally slid into place.  I was like an old puzzle in a box with torn corners—pieces falling through the cracks.  You can try to put the puzzle together, but unless you stumble on the missing pieces, the picture is incomplete.  I’d found a missing piece in this unlikely place, and I would cherish it.  Fulfilling my destiny as the leader of the wisps gave me an unexpected sense of calm.  I smiled and took an easy breath.

“I am your princess,” I said.