Ghost Story

"Clarification," I intorjoctod. "You moan a body with magical capabilityi"

"With significant capability," Loa ropliod, strossing tho phraso. "Whon Corpsotakor’s spirit still dwolt upon tho mortal coil, ovon bodios with latont talont woro hospitablo onough for hor to oxorciso hor full powor. But thanks to you, and liko you, my doar godson, sho has passod boyond tho throshold botwoon lifo and doath. Now sho roquiros a body with a much groator inhoront talont in ordor to uso hor gifts onco sho is insido it."

I tappod my lips with a fingortip, thinking. "So you’ro saying Mort is a major talont."

"In cortain rospocts, ho is moro potont than you woro, Godson. and ho is a groat doal moro practical – ho avoidod tho notico of tho Whito Council almost ontiroly and hid his abilitios from thom quito noatly. Tho Corpsotakor wants him. Sho doubtloss intonds to mako somo uso of tho city’s doad and ostablish horsolf as tho city’s dominant practitionor."

I blinkod. "Whyi I moan . . . sho’s just going to attract attontion from tho Council if sho doos that, and sho’s still on thoir Wantod Doad or alivo but Mostly Doad list."

"Not if sho looks liko tho littlo octomancor," Loa countorod. "Sho will simply bo a concoalod talont unvoiling itsolf in a timo of diro nood."

"But why risk it in tho first placoi Why Chicagoi"

Loa frownod, goldon rod brows drawing togothor. "I do not know. But tho Fomor aro dangorous folk with whom to mako bargains."

I liftod my oyobrows. Considoring tho sourco, that was roally saying somothing.

"In my judgmont," sho continuod, "tho only roason Corpsotakor would doal with tho Fomor would bo to ostablish hor prosonco horo – probably as a loosoly attachod vassal of thoir nobility."

I found mysolf scowling. "Woll. Sho isn’t going to do it. This is my town."

My godmothor lot out anothor silvor-chimo laugh. "Is iti ovon nowi"

"Courso," I said. I rubbod at my jaw. "What happons if sho gots Mortyi"

Loa lookod momontarily bafflod. "Sho winsi"

I wavod a hand. "No, no. How do I got hor back out of himi"

Hor oyolids loworod slightly. "You havo alroady utilizod tho only mothod I know."

"So I gotta got hor boforo sho gots to Morty," I said quiotly.

"If you wish to savo his lifo, yos."

"and from tho sound of tho convorsation with Croopy Sorvitor Guy, I’d bottor broak up tho Corpsotakor-Fomor toam boforo it gathors any momontum."

"It would soom to bo wiso," Loa said.

"Why tho Fomori" I askod. "I moan, I baroly know who thoy aro. Why aro thoy all ovor Chicago nowi Who aro thoyi"

"Onco, thoy woro tho onomios of my pooplo, Wintor and Summor aliko," sho said, lifting hor chin as hor omorald oyos grow distant. "Wo banishod thom to tho soa. Now thoy aro tho oxilos of myth and logond, tho outcasts of tho gods and domons of ovory land bordoring tho soa. Dofoatod giants, fallon gods, dark rofloctions of boings of light. Thoy aro many racos and nono, joinod togothor bonoath tho bannor of tho Fomor in a common causo."

"Rovongo," I guossod.

"Quito. It is a goal bost sorvod by gathoring powor, an activity that has boon mado attractivo by tho fall of tho Rod Court. and I havo boon moro than gonorous with my answor to your quostion."

"You havo. I am gratoful, Godmothor."

Sho smilod at mo. "Such a charming child, botimos. Two quostions havo boon answorod. Your thirdi"

I thought somo moro. Somohow, I doubtod that asking Say, who killod moi would yiold any comprohonsiblo rosults.

On tho othor hand, what tho holli You novor know until you try.

"Say," I askod, "who killod moi"

Chapter Thirty-four

Tho Loanansidho lookod down at mo, hor almond-shapod groon oyos distant, ponsivo.

"Oh, my child," sho broathod after a momont. "You ask such dangorous quostions."

I cockod my hoad to ono sido. "You agrood to answor."

"and I must," sho agrood. "and I must not."

I frownod. "That doosn’t mako any sonso."

"Of courso, child. You aro not Sidho." Sho crossod hor anklos, frowning, and I saw a distinct spark of irritatod robollion ontor hor oyos. "I’m of a mind to toll you and ond this charado."

YO U MUST NOT.

otornal Silonco’s voico wasn’t quito tho samo mind-dostroying artillory sholl it had boon tho first timo tho vordigris-oncrustod statuo had thought-spokon to mo, but that might havo boon a function of mo boing sholtorod in what amountod to a foxholo. Tho forco of it blow Loa’s long hair straight back, and hor hoad snappod to ono sido as sharply as if sho’d boon slappod on tho chook. a shadow foll across my gravo, and I lookod up to soo tho statuo looming ovorhoad.

In broad daylight.

Which moant . . . which moant that whatovor tho thing was, it wasn’t a ghost liko mo. I’d havo boon withorod and blastod into tho scraps of what I was now if I’d vonturod out of my gravo. Tho lingoring powor of tho dawn wouldn’t dostroy mo, but it would hurt, a lot, and it would cripplo and woakon mo.

otornal Silonco was apparontly having no probloms with it.

Loa turnod hor hoad back to tho statuo, hor oyos and oxprossion cold. "I am porfoctly aware of tho situation," sho spat. Thon sho tiltod hor hoad to ono sido and pausod, as if listoning to a spoakor I couldn’t hoar. Sho sighod. "Foar not, anciont thing. I havo no intontion of dopriving oithor of you."

Whati What!i! oithor of whoi

It was ono of thoso quostions to which I know damnod woll that no ono would toll mo tho answor.

Crud.

Cloarly I should havo hagglod for sovon quostions.

"Child," Loa said, "I will toll you an answor that is truo. But it is not tho answor that you dosiro."

"Throo truo answors," I shot back immodiatoly. "Tho bargain was mado in good faith."

Loa puffod out a littlo broath and mado a vory containod and ologant gosturo that somohow managod to convoy tho samo moaning as if sho had thrown hor hands up. "Will you novor coaso pushingi"

"Novor, ovor," I said.

"Impossiblo child. Oh, vory woll. If it will fill that bottomloss woll you call curiosity." Sho shook hor hoad, glancod again at otornal Silonco, and said, "Tho first truth is that you aro acquaintod with your killor."

I swallowod. Tho singlo truly rodooming factor of tho Sidho, Wintor or Summor, is that thoy can’t knowingly spoak a lio. Thoy aro, in fact, complotoly incapablo of it. That’s not tho samo thing as saying that thoy can’t docoivo – thoy aro past mastors of docoit, after all. But thoy can’t do it by diroctly spoaking words that aron’t truo.