Clare Kauter - Sled Head (Damned, Girl! Book 2) Page 3

  “Neither have I,” I said.

  “Yes, but – well, you’re different from me. Your magic –”

  “What magic?” I said, much too quickly.

  He raised his eyebrows at me, unimpressed by my interruption. I shut up. “Your magic works differently from mine. At least, I think it does. That would have affected any light-dwellers the same way as me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Henry was much more sensitive to dark magic than I was. He was a creature of the light, plain and simple. I, on the other hand, was… Well, I don’t know. Satan’s foster kid. I certainly wasn’t a light dweller, and I was pretty sure Henry had already suspected as much before tonight. This incident had probably just confirmed it.

  “He stole the light,” said Henry, looking at the ground. Even though his eyes weren’t looking at me, I could tell he was scared. “I couldn’t – I couldn’t do anything. My magic wouldn’t work.”

  Oh, shit. That was kind of a big deal. If my magic ever stopped working…

  “You mean you couldn’t do anything?”

  Henry shook his head. “I couldn’t even shift.”

  Yeesh. I guess that explained why he was so freaked out. That was like the shifter equivalent of sudden paralysis. “Wow. I’m so sorry, Henry,” I said. “Are you better now?”

  “Yeah, I can feel the light again now. I just – I don’t know how he did it.”

  “So you reckon that was Santa?”

  Henry shrugged. “I haven’t got any better ideas.”

  “Hmph. Would have been handy if we’d had Death here to deal with him, then.”

  Henry nodded, frowning. “So you didn’t feel that at all?”

  “Oh, I could feel the darkness. I knew the light was gone.”

  “Could you still do magic?”

  “Um, I don’t know. I guess so?”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “You would have known if you couldn’t.”

  “I guess.” Not for the first time, I wondered what the hell that meant. What was I? I’d never thought I was a light-type magical – they didn’t accidentally murder people when they got annoyed. The fact that whatever magic void Santa (if it was him) had just created didn’t affect me was a concern. I mean, sure, it was probably good that I was immune to whatever he could do, but if I wasn’t even slightly impacted by the curse of an ancient mythical creature, what did that mean?

  Henry had a theory; I was sure of it. He wasn’t going to tell me, though. He worked for The Department, and I was pretty sure they had forbidden him from telling me the truth. Death and Satan wouldn’t tell me, either. They wanted to see if I could figure it out. I guess when you’re as old as the universe, you do what you can to pass the time – including screwing with little earthlings like me. There were only two people who might tell me. The first was Daisy – she’d hinted at it while helping me on my last quest. I’d passed out mid-séance, and hallucinated some weird shit while I was under. What was it the voices had said?

  Long live the King.

  I’d repeated that to Daisy and she’d nodded, seeming to know exactly what it meant. Trouble was, I hadn’t been able to get her alone to ask her any details. I suspected Henry and Hecate (who also worked for The Department, being the Hellfire Shire Chief of Police) had made it their mission to keep an eye on me. They didn’t want me to figure it out, and I wasn’t sure why.

  The other person who could tell me was someone I didn’t even want to think about.

  Ed. The unreliable, deceitful, backstabbing little rodent he was.

  Nope, he wasn’t an option. Even if I knew where I could find him, which I didn’t (he hadn’t been sighted since he disappeared off the face of the Earth – quite literally – after stealing the Doomstone), I didn’t want to talk to him. I wanted to forget he even existed. The little slime ball.

  Why had I ever thought that making out with a poltergeist was a good idea?

  Anyway, now was not the time to start thinking about that. Now was the time to plot how I was going to contact Daisy without Henry noticing. He had shifted into a cat and curled up in front of the wood fire crackling in the corner of the room, but I could tell from his breathing that he was still awake. I wasn’t going to be able to contact her tonight. I needed to bide my time. Maybe tomorrow would bring an opportunity.

  “How far exactly are we from this next town?” I said through chattering teeth. My arms were crossed to try and stay warm, and while I’d put on as many layers of clothes as my body could carry, the icy wind was biting through and chilling me to my bones. We had left the inn behind, heading on foot to the next town to check out the creepy museum where the possessed nesting dolls had been purchased.

  Henry had transformed into a large white wolf, covered in thick fur that insulated him from the elements. Ordinarily I’d be jealous, but after last night I was kind of glad that I wasn’t a shifter. White magic was overrated. It took its power from nature, which was just a little pathetic. Dark magic, on the other hand, could do pretty much anything. There was a lot more darkness in the universe than there were trees. (I mean, OK, that was an oversimplification – there was still some pretty cool light magic. Faeries were a good example – they could kick some serious proverbial. Maybe it wasn’t so much the type of magic, but the creativity with which it was used. Creatures of light were just kind of boring.)

  Leaving the warmth of the bed behind had been tricky this morning. I wasn’t used to snow. It was cold, something I was not familiar with. Sure, snow looks pretty on postcards and all, but when you get up close and personal it’s just a gentler form of hail.

  “Not much further,” said Henry. He was sniffing our way rather than use Google Maps this morning. (I think he was a little worried about his data usage bill.) I wanted a more specific answer than that, so I cast out, searching for energy. Just like yesterday, I felt little patches of white everywhere from the woodland creatures frolicking about the forest. Roughly a kilometre ahead, I could sense a reddish energy that I guessed was coming from the museum. Pulling my coat tighter around me, I hoped I didn’t freeze before we got there.

  Just when I was sure my fingers were going to drop off from the cold, the path through the trees grew wider and the little village appeared up ahead. It didn’t take us long to find the museum – it was the biggest building in the whole place. Luckily it was free entry (we were pretty sure), because we didn’t have any way to pay to get in. It was surprisingly busy – I guess this time of year meant tourist season in the North Pole.

  The locals were pretty comfortable with Henry wondering around in his wolf form, but a couple of unsuspecting travellers squealed in fear at the sight of him. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

  Hearing that, they screamed.

  Henry sighed as we walked away from them. “I can’t believe people are still so shocked by shifters.” I could tell he was annoyed, but I couldn’t resist the urge to stir him up.

  “They probably thought you were a werewolf.”

  He turned and bared his teeth at me. I was a little taken aback – Henry wasn’t the most confrontational person I knew. I guess he was really offended.

  “How dare you?” he growled.

  “It’s OK,” I said. “That’s a good puppy.”

  He turned and stalked away, terrifying a few more tourists as he barrelled past them. I giggled to myself. Unlike shifters, werewolves were creatures of the night. They ran in packs and were kind of known for being a bit dumb and violent. (Other were-creatures and shifters tended to dissociate themselves from wolves for that reason: wolves were just kind of thick.)

  “Oh my god, Greg, look at this adorable painting!” said a voice nearby. I couldn’t help but turn and look for whoever had spoken. It was kind of exciting to be able to understand what someone was saying, being in a foreign country and all. (Yeah, I still didn’t know what exact country that was. Who cares about those sorts of details, though, right? We were somewhere near the North Pole. Maybe.)r />
  The ‘adorable’ painting that the voice had mentioned caught my attention and I made my way over towards it. The other tourists moved on, but I stayed there, mesmerised. ‘Adorable’ was certainly not how I’d describe it. ‘Terrifying’ maybe. ‘Useful’, definitely. It depicted Santa with his reindeers and little helpers. Except in this picture, the deer weren’t the only ones with antlers. Here it was. The picture that tied Santa and Krampus together. They were one and the same.

  Krampus was surrounded not only by animals, but by faeries too. Santa’s elves. The thing was, these guys looked less like ‘Santa’s Little Helpers’, ready for a hard day of toy making, and more like ‘Santa’s Little Army’, ready to slaughter anyone who came near their boss.

  Everything started to make sense. Satyrs are often said to hang out with Maenads, a kind of nymph. Looking at this picture, I could see they weren’t nymphs – they were elves. Ice elves. Santa and Krampus were definitely one and the same. And Krampta (Santus?) had an army of elves protecting him. Lucky fae weren’t, like, one of the most powerful magical species in existence or anything.

  Gulp.

  However, I was still a little confused. Most fae (with the exception of goblins and a couple of others) were creatures of the light. As I mentioned earlier, creatures of light were boring. They didn’t tend to side with homicidal maniacs. I didn’t really know what to make of it.

  “Well, that sheds some light on the situation,” said Henry, who had at some point appeared at my side.

  “Speaking of light,” I answered, “What the hell are those elves doing hanging out with a guy like him?”

  Henry shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  A thought began to form in my mind. “Maybe I should contact Daisy. See what she thinks about the whole thing.” And while I was at it, maybe I could ask her some other questions. Like who the hell the King was and what he had to do with me.

  “Yes, good idea. Let’s do that.”

  “It’s alright – I can do it by myself.”

  Henry shot me a look.

  “Or we can both do it,” I added quickly. “Whatever.”

  There goes that plan.

  “How do you propose we make contact?” he asked.

  I frowned. “Call her?”

  “Do you know what the international call fees are like from here?”

  “No. Of course I don’t know that. Why would I know that?”

  “We’re not calling her. Come up with a better idea.”

  I frowned. Great. Henry was too cheap to invest in this quest at all. Of course, I could use my phone, but I was still on prepaid and the fees would be astronomical. “Fine, OK,” I said, pretending to be annoyed at how tight he was without wanting to admit I was just as bad. “A séance, then. We’ll project a message to her.”

  “Across the globe?” Henry looked incredulous. He didn’t think I could do it. Of course, last week he’d seen me collapse while looking for a carpet that was a few kilometres away, so I guess that was kind of understandable. Still, I was a little offended.

  “Fine. If you don’t think I can do it myself, we’ll hold a séance,” I said. I knew I could do it by myself, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to do it in front of Henry anyway. No need to give away any more information about my powers than I had to.

  “And who do you propose we ask to help?”

  I looked around. The place was full of non-magicals. Not ideal. They weren’t going to be amazing at channelling energy, but if I got enough of them they might be able to amplify my energy slightly from the simple act of forming a circle. Besides, it wasn’t like I actually needed them – I just had to fool Henry.

  One hour later, we stood in a small clearing in the forest with a group of fifteen tourists. A wad of notes in the local currency – whatever it was – rustled in my pocket. I had no idea how much people had actually paid me (and I don’t think they did either), but it looked impressive.

  Henry, who had transformed into a gorilla now (much to the amazement of the aforementioned tourists), whispered into my ear, “I can’t believe you made them pay for this. It seems rather unethical.”

  I shrugged. This was how I made a living. “I’ll contact their relatives too,” I said. “So they’ll get what they’ve paid for.”

  “Yes, but you’re still using them.”

  “Everyone gets used at some point.”

  Wow. Even I was surprised that I sounded so cynical. I blamed it on the lack of sleep last night, and the cold, and the memory of Ed. Yes, OK, so I wasn’t completely over it. He’d only betrayed me a few days ago.

  Ignoring Henry, I collected fallen pine needles and branches, building a small pile in the centre of the clearing. I didn’t have any candles, so a fire would have to do. I also didn’t have any cancelling herbs to hand (to burn if things got out of control), so I wouldn’t be able to go swimming in the ether again like I had at my last séance. We probably wouldn’t be able to channel enough energy for that anyway.

  I called everyone into a circle. We stood, seeing as the ground was covered in snow and I didn’t want to get a soggy bottom. As always, I started the séance with the energy transfer trick – I clicked my fingers and set the fire alight. There was an appreciative ‘ooh’ from the crowd. I hid my smirk. People were so easily impressed. The air began to smell like a ‘Christmas Memories’ scented candle as the aroma of fir wafted through the clearing.

  Time to get started.

  Chapter Four

  After forming a circle, I asked the crowd to join hands and think about whomever it was that they wanted to contact. Everyone shut their eyes tightly as they focused on their dead relatives, willing them to come back for a final chat. Everyone, that is, except myself and Henry, who was standing opposite me and shaking his head in disgust. Pfft. This was hardly the worst thing he’d ever seen me do. Of course, he couldn’t remember the other things…

  There was an audible ‘pop’ as a ghost appeared in the flames.

  “What?” the spirit asked gruffly. He was an old man, wearing checked pyjamas and slippers. His lack of aura told me that he was not, in fact, a ghost, but someone we’d ripped from the afterlife. Woops. No wonder he was cranky.

  “Oh, sorry,” I said. “Didn’t mean to – uh – abduct you. There’s just someone here who wants to talk to you.”

  The members of the circle were now watching me, curiosity etched on their faces. They couldn’t see the old man, so to them it looked like I was just talking to myself. They didn’t look totally impressed – people always expected me to talk to the ghosts in a weird voice, kind of reverently, you know. The thing was, ghosts were just dead people. There was nothing special about them.

  “I know full bloody well who’s trying to call me. You can tell Bryan that I left everything to his sister for a reason, and if he continues with the court case I’ll haunt him for the rest of his life. Oh, and you can also tell him that I know about the Kingswood.”

  I relayed the message to the group, and saw a man who I presumed to be Bryan go red, eyes wide, and stare ahead in something akin to terror. I guess whatever happened with the Kingswood was a big deal.

  The next ghost who showed up was a lady I guessed to be about forty, dressed in a business suit with her hair back in a bun. She folded her arms.

  “What exactly do you think you’re doing, calling me here?”

  “Someone in this circle –”

  “Tell Peter that no, I wasn’t murdered, I killed myself because I couldn’t put up with his incessant dithering any longer.”

  She popped out of existence. Wow. That got heavy all of a sudden.

  I noticed Henry watching me from the other side of the circle, clearly curious as to what I was going to do next.

  “Uh, Peter?”

  “Yes?” a man answered quickly. He was a kindly middle-aged man, face etched with worry. “Was it Beatrice?”

  Of course her name was Beatrice. “Um, yes. She… She said she, um… She didn’t see her atta
cker.”

  He sighed and smiled sadly. “Ah. Thank you anyway.”

  Henry and I made eye contact, and he looked a little less cross with me than he had earlier.

  We continued like this for a while until everyone in the circle had spoken to their long lost relatives, until finally it was my turn. Calling a living soul was different from calling a ghost, as you could imagine. Daisy’s magic was strong, so I was hopeful that it wouldn’t be too hard to track her down, even from the other side of the world.

  I closed my eyes and cast my mind out. Henry’s energy hit me and boosted me a little further. I used the circle to anchor myself – I couldn’t afford to lose control. Find Daisy and get out of the ether, I told myself. Don’t go swimming again. Last time I’d tried this I’d gotten giddy with the power and ended up nearly killing myself. I didn’t have the same backup power or safety measures here. I couldn’t let myself roam. Just find Daisy.

  A whispering on the edge of my consciousness caught my attention. I tried to ignore it, but then I heard something that stood out… A single word that I couldn’t ignore…

  …King...

  Hello?

  You’re back again.

  Yes, I… Well, no. I mean, I’m not meant to be. Really I was just passing through. Actually, I wanted to ask you about someth –

  “Nessa?”

  I opened my eyes, my bond with the ether broken. Of course. I was annoyed until I recognised the voice that had snapped me out of my trance.

  “Daisy?”

  Her image danced in the flames in front of me. The circle of non-magicals looked on in shock. Because Daisy was alive and projecting her energy here (rather than a spirit being called to this location), they were all able to see her. Shock and wonderment registered on all their faces. Well, at least they were getting their money’s worth today.

  “How are you?” she asked. “Wait, where are you?”

  She looked around, frowning in confusion at the snowy alpine setting and the gaggle of astounded onlookers.

  “Um, I’m… I’m looking for Santa,” I said.