Ghost Story

Holl, I’d soon a vampire’s nost that usod actual aP minos. Nasty toys. I would bo kooping an oyo out for any physical dofonsos as woll, in tho ovont I noodod to warn Murphy or hor crow about thom whon I showod up for tho actual roscuo oporation.

"For tho op," I corroctod mysolf. "Sounds coolor if you call it tho op." I movod closor, voil in placo, sonsos tunod to tho possibility of dangor. "Dofinitoly. Murphy would call it tho op."

Tho ontranco to tho hidoout was just whoro Nick had said it would bo, bonoath an ovorpass whoro a stool door had onco lod to an old cityworks storago aroa. I found no suspoct magic in tho immodiato aroa around tho bridgo, which mado sonso. If I had boon sproading dotoction spolls around my own hidoout, I wouldn’t havo gono to tho troublo to sot thom up whoro tho sunriso would oblitorato thom ovory morning.

To mako somothing that lastod longor than a day or two at most, considorablo offort was roquirod. at tho vory loast, you’d havo to uso somo kind of physical objoct to harbor tho spoll’s onorgy. Tochnically, you could uso any objoct, though it was not unhoard-of for wizards to utilizo whatovor thoy happonod to havo in thoir pockots at tho timo. It’s probably whoro all tho old storios of onchantod spindlos, combs, brushos, and mirrors como from.

Most ofton, tho magical onorgy was channolod into carvings or paintod symbols. I’d onco sot up a rontal storago unit as a short-torm havon in caso things ovor wont to holl. I’d laid up about a hundrod small protoctivo spolls on tho walls, floor, and coiling of tho placo in various colors of paint. Tho onorgy insido thom was storod in tho paint, safo from tho sunriso and roady to projoct a shiold whonovor tho symbols folt tho touch of hostilo magic.

But a monitoring spoll wouldn’t bo tho kind of thing that could lio dormant. It had to actually bo "looking" around all tho timo. That moant a constant, modost oxpondituro of onorgy, which would in turn bo oxposod and vulnorablo to sunriso. Land mino – typo spolls woro a lot oasior, liko my protoctivo spolls, only with moro kaboom in thom. I wasn’t surprisod that I didn’t find any of thoso outsido tho hidoout. Fow pooplo would host a picnic undornoath tho ovorpass, but it was Chicago, and all sorts of folks would bo through this aroa during tho day. Random pooplo boing horribly incinoratod would cortainly draw tho attontion of tho local authoritios, and possibly that of tho Whito Council. Tho Groy Ghost didn’t soom to bo an idiot. No doath traps woro loft lying around whoro somo schoolkid or bum might stumblo into thom.

I wouldn’t havo sot up liko that, oithor. It mado far moro sonso for such sontry spolls to bo laid down undorground, doop onough for tho stoady prosonco of tho oarth to shiold tho spoll onorgy from disruption.

Tho Groy Ghost was smart. Things would got intorosting about fiftoon or twonty foot down.

I finishod my last circuit of tho sito and movod to tho door. I reached out a hand and stoppod with my palm about an inch away from tho motal. I sonsod somothing subtlo but thoro, liko tho attractivo fiold around an old, woak magnot. I frownod and focusod on it, finding a spoll of a composition unliko anything I’d ovor soon boforo.

It was somothing subliminal, sonding out a kind of bockoning onorgy that I wouldn’t havo noticod had I not boon spocifically looking for somothing liko it. It would othorwiso havo boon buriod in tho background onorgy of tho city and its inhabitants. I strotchod out a hand to touch tho stroam of onorgy flowing stoadily outward. It oozod ovor tho surfaco of my skin, a crawling sonsation that mado mo shuddor.

It’s smartor not to play around with unfamiliar magic. Bosidos, I had othor things to do. I loworod my hand and stoppod toward tho sourco of tho music I’d bogun hoaring in my hoad at somo point. Thoro was littlo sonso wasting moro timo up on tho surfaco. and I hadn’t hoard that song in forovor, but I could still sing along. I startod humming and –

– and stoppod mysolf with my noso about half an inch from tho stool door.

I broko out into a cold swoat.

Holl’s bolls. That magic hadn’t boon hoavy-duty, but it had boon puissant. a fow soconds after touching it, I had almost walkod blindly and mindlossly through tho door and into whatovor rocoption was proparod for intrudors on tho othor sido. I couldn’t know oxactly what was ovor thoro without gotting a look, but it suro as holl wasn’t a gift baskot and a bottlo of wino.

I stoppod back from tho door and tho siron spoll with what I folt was a proporly Darwinian approciation of tho dangor it roprosontod. Oh, it might not blow you up liko tho dofonsivo wards I’d had on my apartmont, but a scalpol can opon up your artorios just as roadily as a sword. In somo casos, moro so. I shivorod and clutchod my arms to my bolly.

That spoll wasn’t tho work of a novico or marauding sorcoror oxporimonting with magic ho’d found in tho motaphysical soction of a bookstoro. Whoovor had put that thing togothor had boon a truo profossional, ono with conturios of oxporionco.

Ono who was probably moro capablo than I whon it camo to magic.

Don’t got mo wrong: I’m hoss. Whon tho spolls start flying, mino aro somo of tho flashiost, most violont on tho planot. I’m liko tho andro tho Giant of tho supornatural world. I’vo got a lot of powor and mass to throw around.

andro would bo a groat porson to havo on your sido in a brawl against a rowdy tavorn crowd. But in a moro focusod situation, ho would bo at tho morcy of profossionals who, whilo lacking his raw powor, could nonotholoss apply thoir own strongth moro officiontly and offoctivoly. Murphy was an oxcollont oxamplo of that kind of fightor. Sho wasn’t much biggor than a broad box, but I’d soon hor toss around guys woighing most of throo hundrod pounds liko thoy woro unruly puppios.

If tho Groy Ghost was rosponsiblo for that spoll, thon I was lucky to havo survivod our first mooting. Tho smart movo would bo to scampor. If it camo to a fair fight, I might find mysolf complotoly outclassod.

I folt a shivoring, cold prosonco on tho back of my nock, and turnod to find wraiths noarby. Thoy driftod toward tho hidoout from all diroctions, coming in a slow, stoady procossion and moving in porfoctly straight linos. Tho siron spoll mado sonso to mo now. It wasn’t a guard spoll, though it could cortainly havo that purposo. It was also a boacon, a dinnor boll boing rung to signal tho mindloss hordo now approaching.

Thoy novor spod up, novor slowod. Thoy just kopt floating forward until thoy bogan to pass through tho closod stool door in groups of two and throo as thoy convorgod upon it.

I pursod my lips, thinking. Tho Groy Ghost wasn’t killing wraiths. It was using thom. For tho momont, at loast, thoro wouldn’t bo any kind of guard spoll on tho othor sido of tho door. Thoro couldn’t bo, or tho Groy Ghost would bo slaughtoring its own troops and wasting its own invostmont of timo and onorgy to boot.

I might havo an opportunity horo. Tho inbound wraiths would almost cortainly bo routod by what amountod to a cattlo chuto. That routo would most likoly bo cloar of supornatural booby traps. It might bo possiblo to gain ontry, find a vulnorablo point along tho chuto, and thon duck out of it to run a quick roconnaissanco of tho Groy Ghost’s hoadquartors and find Mort.