Moon Shimmers
MOON SHIMMERS
An Otherworld Novel
-Book 19-
YASMINE GALENORN
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published by Yasmine Galenorn
PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037
MOON SHIMMERS
An Otherworld Novel
Copyright © 2017 by Yasmine Galenorn
First Electronic Printing: 2017 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
First Print Edition: 2017 Nightqueen Enterprises
Cover Art & Design: Earthly Charms
Editor: Elizabeth Flynn
Map Design: Yasmine Galenorn
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.
A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication
Published in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Welcome to Otherworld
Map of Otherworld
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Playlist
Cast of Major Characters
Glossary
Biography
Acknowledgments
When I first started writing Witchling twelve years ago, I had no clue that the series would become so popular. It amazed me how much my readers took to the Sisters, and how rapidly the series gained traction. Eighteen books later, when my then-publisher decided to drop the series three books from the end of a very long run, I knew that I had to finish it on my own. I couldn’t let my readers down, and I couldn’t let the series down. So here’s the first book in the last triad of the Otherworld Series. There will be more Otherworld stories—most likely in the form of novelettes—but this leg of the series, of their journey, will finish out.
I’m so grateful to my readers who’ve followed me this far. There has been quite a dropoff, I admit, but to the ones who’ve remained like glue to the adventures of the sisters—thank you for the love you’ve given this world of mine, and all my worlds.
Thanks also go to my husband, Samwise, who has been my biggest supporter as I’ve shifted my career to the indie side. And thanks to my friends who have cheered me on—especially Jo and Carol. Thank you to my assistants Jenn and Andria for all their help. And thank you to my fellow authors in my UF group, who have helped me learn what I needed to learn in order to take my career into my own hands.
A most reverent nod to my spiritual guardians—Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and the Lady Brighid. They guide my life, and my heart.
And of course, love and scritches to my fuzzy brigade—Caly, Brighid, Morgana, and little boy Apple. I would be lost without my cats.
Bright Blessings, and I hope you enjoy Camille’s book. For more information about all my work, please see my website at Galenorn.com, and sign up for my newsletter.
Welcome to Otherworld
We’re the D’Artigo sisters: savvy half-human, half-Fae operatives for the Otherworld Intelligence Agency. My sister Delilah is a two-faced werecat and a Death Maiden. Menolly is a vampire married to a gorgeous werepuma and a vampire prince. And me? I’m Camille, a Moon Witch married to three gorgeous husbands, and I’m about to ascend to the throne of Dusk & Twilight. But the path to the throne lies through a labyrinth of dangers, which I must face alone…
Before I can fulfill my destiny to become the Queen of Dusk & Twilight, I must seek out the Keraastar Diamond. But to find the magical gem and take control over the Keraastar Knights, I must venture back to Otherworld, deep into the treacherous Tygerian Mountains. Once there, I face a magical trial by fire. If I fail, the final chance to stop Shadow Wing will fade with me. If I succeed, my life will forever change. And I’m not certain which prospect frightens me the most.
Map of Otherworld
Chapter 1
“BLOCK HIM AT the pass!” I dodged out of the way, trying not to dive face first into the dirt, but I didn’t see the stray tennis ball some dog had dropped under the bridge, and did a banana-peel flop onto my butt. I rolled to the side, hard, as the damned troll charged past. Or rather, troll spirit.
“I swear, the next blowhard who tries to tell me that spirits can’t be corporeal is going to get my fist in their face,” I groaned, rolling to a sitting position. Damn it. I had torn my skirt on a shard of glass. Well, better my skirt than my leg. At least I hadn’t broken my ankle. I had long ago given up fighting in stilettos, but tonight we hadn’t planned on a showdown and we were all dressed to the nines for dinner, and my heels were four-inch spiky sandals.
Delilah raced by, pausing to hold out her hand. I grabbed it and she hauled me up. As soon as she pulled me onto my feet, she was off again, trying to catch up to the lumbering ghost. Menolly was already up ahead, dangling off the troll’s back like some demented monkey, only cuter. I swallowed my pride, made sure nothing was broken, and hauled ass in their direction. Thanks to regular workouts, I was faster than I used to be, but I still lagged behind. Delilah was a natural-born athlete. So was Menolly, plus she was a vampire. Me? Not so much either one.
“He’s not slowing down and I can’t break his neck because he’s not alive!” Menolly’s voice echoed from up ahead. As I watched, the troll spirit veered directly toward a massive cedar.
“Watch out for—” I stopped, wincing as the spirit skidded to a stop. In a whiplash effect, Menolly went flying over his head. She landed a good three yards ahead of him, sliding along the asphalt, cursing like a sailor. The troll turned right onto a side street and bounded away, leaving us all in the dust.
“Well, that had to hurt.” Delilah shaded her eyes, watching the troll vanish.
I caught up to her and we jogged over to Menolly’s side. Menolly picked herself up off the road and dusted her hands on her jeans. We had lost the troll’s trail. Oh, we could go racing after him and probably pick it up again, but seeing that he was the spirit of a troll and not the actual creature, chances were we’d be off on a wild goose chase.
“What the hell was that?” Menolly stretched her arms over her head, then shook her shoulders out. Her eyes were glowing crimson in the pale light of dusk, a sure sign her hunting instincts had been out to play. “That wasn’t like any troll I’ve ever dealt with before.”
“That’s because it was a ghost, although not your typical run-of-the-mill spook. Somehow, the spirit managed to become corporeal.” I winced. The spill I’d taken was catching up to me and I was pretty sure I had bruised my tailbone. “What I want to know is where did it come from?”
We walked back beneath the overpass to stare at the Fremont Troll. A Seattle landmark, the troll was a massive sculpture that had been designed and created by a team of artists who called themselves the Jersey Devils. Formed from rebar, wire, and concrete, it was big enough to hold an actual Volkswagen Beetle i
n its hand. But behemoth or not, the troll was a just a sculpture. Or so we had thought. Nothing more than a neighborhood icon.
I would have been happy to remain blissfully ignorant, except Chase had called us while we were out to dinner. Someone had reported that the Fremont Troll had come to life and was rampaging around under the bridge. Once we got there, of course, we found the sculpture right where it had always been. However, there was a troll roaming around, only it was a confused, angry spirit.
“What do you suppose happened?” Menolly glared at the sculpture as we passed it. “Who on earth thought putting a troll under an overpass was a good thing?”
“They made this before the Supes came out of the closet.” But I was right behind her in giving it a nervous glance as we passed it. Actually, the Fremont Troll was rather fun. Fans dressed him up for the holidays, and he was as much a part of the Seattle landscape as was the Space Needle. No, the troll we had faced had only hidden inside the sculpture until something set him off.
“We already knew that spirits can sometimes take on corporeal form. Something spooked this one and he’s not happy. Which means our troll friend—the spirit, not the sculpture—is dangerous to anybody he happens to meet.”
“I know what did it.” Menolly dashed up the slope beside the troll to stand on top of his head. “Come up here.”
The last thing I wanted to do was climb up a dirt embankment in a fancy dress and corset, but I pulled off my shoes and Delilah and I scrambled up the easy rise. When we were on top of the troll, we were standing right beneath the overpass.
There we found an altar, of sorts. A makeshift “talking board” sat between two candles in Mason jars. The candles were still flickering. A quartz crystal rested to the left, a tipped-over bottle of wine to the right. The board was a rough rectangle of plywood, with the alphabet painted across it, and the words “yes” and “no” at the top corners. An upside-down paper cup rested on the board atop a thin piece of transparent acrylic, just the right size to cover one letter at a time.
“Fuck me now.” I stared at the setup. “Somebody figured out there was a spirit hiding itself in the troll and decided to commune with it. Bingo, open-door policy. Idiots didn’t realize that boards like this are actually portals.”
“Either that, or they were just drunk off their asses and screwing around.” Delilah rubbed her temples. “When will kids learn?”
“Why do you think this was a group of kids? I’ve met plenty of adults who don’t have the sense they were born with.” I toed the board. Sure enough, a sizzle sparked against my big toe. “Well, whoever they were, they opened the door, but I doubt they’re capable of locking the troll back in the bottle, so to speak. Which means we have to figure out what to do with it. We can’t just force it to go back inside the sculpture. That’s no life for any spirit.”
“I feel guilty for suggesting it, but we could call Ivana.” Menolly glanced at me. Ivana Krask, or the Maiden of Karask, was one of the Elder Fae. She loved ghosts. She loved ghosts all too much. She trapped the nasty ones in her ghoulish little “garden of ghosts,” where she fed off their energy and tormented them. But she was good at rounding up spirits, that was for sure. She’d probably salivate over the chance to nab a troll’s spirit.
I stared at my sister. “While the idea of handing over this creature to her is tempting, the fact is that we don’t know whether it’s evil or not. And I honestly can’t face myself in the mirror if we end up giving her a ghost who’s just confused and unhappy.”
“I thought you might say that.” Menolly shrugged. “I’m out of suggestions for now. We don’t know where the thing went. We don’t know what to do about it if we do find it again. What do you suggest?”
“Let’s head back to the car.” Delilah glanced up at the sky. “We can hunt it that way. We’d better find it, though. Tomorrow night’s the full moon and I won’t be of any use then. I can already feel the pull in my blood.” Full moons were always out when it came to any sort of plans for Delilah unless they included gallivanting around in my catnip garden, or chasing moths through the yard. They were out for me, too.
“Right. And I’ll be off on the Hunt with the Moon Mother.” I was swept away during the Full Moon, too, only I went racing through the skies instead of the back yard.
“So, what do we do? We can’t even figure out how to contain it, let alone send it off to the happy troll gardens or whatever their afterlife is. All we’ve accomplished so far is a broken butt and torn skirt for you, and skid marks tearing up my leather jacket.” Menolly shrugged. “Maybe we should do a little research? We may actually save time that way. We’re near the station. They have computers. Chase will let us use one.”
I hooked my arm through Delilah’s. “She’s right. We aren’t going to manage anything until we figure out what we’re fighting and how to combat it. Let’s head over to the FH-CSI.”
Delilah shrugged. “Whatever you think is right. I just hope that thing doesn’t hurt anybody while we’re surfing the ’net. Come on, let’s go.” She held up her keys as we approached her Jeep and unlocked the doors. Without another word, we piled in the car and were off to the station.
THE FH-CSI WAS the acronym for the Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigation unit. Over the years, it had grown from a specialty operation to a powerful city organization. Chase Johnson, the detective in charge of it, was a friend of ours. He and Delilah had been an item for a while but the gulf between them was too great. Now, he was paired up with the Elfin Queen and while they got along great, once again, circumstance had intervened.
Sharah had returned to Otherworld to take up her duty when Elqaneve and the Elfin lands had been pulverized during war. The old queen was killed, making Sharah—a niece and the only one close to the throne who was still alive—the heir. She had returned home to take the crown, leaving Chase and their daughter, Astrid, over here Earthside. It wasn’t ideal, but neither Chase nor Sharah had a choice. Her duty to the throne came first for Sharah, and duty to his daughter and his own post came first for Chase.
Located in the Belles-Faire District of Seattle, the FH-CSI was on Thatcher Avenue. It was a large building with one floor aboveground, which housed the police unit and healing facilities for the Supe community. At least three stories belowground included an arsenal, a jail, a laboratory, morgue, and archives, and there was a rumored fourth level, though Chase would never confirm or deny it.
The parking lot was empty, though in thirty-six hours it would be full. A few of the jail cells were actually used as kennels during the full moon, for when some of the werewolves went careening around the city. The animal shelters sub-contracted members of the FH-CSI to round up the bigger predator types and cart them down to the holding cells until morning. Once they reverted to their human forms, they paid a nominal fee and were set free. That way, nobody got hurt and in the morning, their families could come get them, crowding the parking lot.
As we approached the building, the sound of traffic blurred in the distance. The sky was clear and the weather, balmy. June in Seattle didn’t exactly fit most people’s definition of warm, but the rain was holding off and it was sixty degrees at ten-thirty. Shirtsleeve weather to locals.
I glanced at the stars. Most of them were drowned out by the light pollution, but here and there, a bright star flickered. The sky was so different from what it had been back home in Otherworld. Here, the city lights blotted out all but the brightest stars. But there was an energy over Earthside that OW didn’t have. And I had gotten used to that energy. I was actually grateful that I was here to stay.
I pushed through the doors. The police station was to the left, and the medic unit was straight ahead. As we entered the station, the bustle of activity hit us like a wave.
Yugi, Chase’s second in command and a Swedish empath, was racing around with a clipboard in his hand. At least three officers that we could see were checking their weapons. I jumped back as Marquette—an elf who had joined the forc
e a couple years back—hurried by. The look on her face was dour. Brooks, a full blooded human, followed her, looking just as grim. Behind him was Fry, another FBH. She was carrying one hell of a big shotgun.
Chase was standing at the door of his office. When he saw us, he brushed his hair back from his face and motioned us in. “Thank gods you’re here. You lost the troll, didn’t you?”
At six-one, Chase was Delilah’s height. With dark wavy hair and olive skin, he looked Mediterranean. We had all thought Chase was human until a few months back when we discovered he actually had an ancestor from Otherworld in his lineage, giving him a touch of elfin blood. He was wearing a designer suit—Calvin Klein—and right now he looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel in his forehead.
“That’s why we’re here. The Fremont Troll is right where it was. What we’re chasing is the corporeal spirit of a troll who was resting quietly inside the sculpture till some lamebrain decided to use a talking board. At least, that’s the way we think it went down.” I glanced over at his desk. His landline was ringing off the hook, three of the four lines flashing. “Your phone—”
“Never mind my phone. We have a major problem. Whatever that thing is, it’s headed toward Golden Gardens Park, where there happens to be a major event going on.”
Delilah paled. “What event?”
“The midnight wedding of some big-shot lawyer’s kid. There are two hundred people milling around the park, half of whom are scheduled to eat a midnight supper there after the wedding. I’m sending officers over now, but we have to do something before the bride and groom end up taking their vows over a mass grave.” Chase was stumbling over his words. He usually wasn’t this frantic, even during emergencies.