Witching Bones: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 8 Page 8

  I scanned the text and it fell into place. “Oh, that makes sense. This is a land wight. I’ve heard of them but never encountered one. They feed on death.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Llew looked a little queasy.

  “Decomposing bodies, decomposing leaves, whatever the world is breaking down at the moment. Land wights turn decomposition into food. But they’re also aggressive, and have been known to hunt out victims. They’ll then break down the bodies and, as the victim decomposes, they’ll eat the remains.”

  “Meaning…they’ll kill us to get our bodies?” Llew wrinkled his nose. “My stomach doesn’t like the thought of that.”

  “Maybe not, but their stomachs do. Or whatever they use to digest their food.” I skimmed the entry on them. “Okay, it seems that getting rid of the land wight isn’t going to be easy. First, you must find their nest. They keep their souls, or essences if you will, locked within a soul stone in the nest. To destroy the wight, you have to destroy the stone. And even better, you can only destroy the stone with a magical hammer.”

  Llew groaned. “You don’t happen to know Thor, do you?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I wish I did. The hammer has to be silver, by the way. So, even if we do go back for the wight, and I think we should, given that creature’s going to lure people to their deaths, we’re going to need an enchanted weapon. Venom’s a magical blade, but she’s not a silver hammer.”

  “How does it lure people in?”

  “Like it nearly did us. All wights have glamour of a sort. The land wight can disguise itself as any number of things. Remember we thought we saw a child down there? That was the wight. They have some sort of telepathy, it seems.” I read the rest of the entry. “They’re able to project images into the minds of others. It probably sensed that we would try to rescue someone in need, and went for the jugular—a kid.”

  “So we were the fish, headed for the hook.” Llew sat back, wrapping his arms over his stomach. He stared at the grimoire. “What if some kid goes down there?”

  He had just voiced what I’d been thinking. What if, indeed, some child headed down that slope? The wight wouldn’t have any compunctions about killing a kid. In fact, a wight would only realize that an easy target was on the way. Enough for a quick meal, albeit not a full-sized one. The thought nauseated me. While I had very little interaction with children—and very little desire for such—I couldn’t handle the thought of something as malevolent as the land wight catching hold of a kid.

  “We need to destroy it,” I said. “Nobody else is going to do anything. If we tell the cops, they’ll look the other way. They only respond when they deem it worth their while.”

  “Wait a minute!” Llew jumped up. “I think I know somebody who has a magical hammer. Let me call him.” He grabbed his phone. While he put in the phone call, I went to check on Raj. I didn’t trust Buck, even if he was moving.

  Raj was hanging out in his house, just quietly taking in the night air. The snow had finally stopped, but by now, we had over ten inches. Seattle proper, according to the news, had five inches. As usual, the Eastside was beating them out. The air was so crisp I could have cut my lungs on it, and yet, there was a quiet beauty to the night, and the sky still had that silver-tinged shimmer that seemed so otherworldly.

  “Hey, doodlebug, whatcha doing?” I crouched beside him, thinking I really should shovel my walkway.

  “Raj is thinking, but mostly listening to the snow.” Raj gazed up at me, his eyes luminous in the twilight.

  “What’s the snow saying to Raj?”

  “The snow’s saying it’s going to stay for a while. It likes it here,” he said in a dream-filled voice. “The snow makes the world slow down.” Yawning, he rested his head on his feet.

  “You want to stay out here for a while? You’re not too cold?”

  “Raj is fine. Raj take a nap now.” And just like that, he was snoring away. I patted him on the muzzle, then headed back inside.

  Llew was waiting for me. “I got hold of my friend. Neil’s a priest of Thor. And I remembered right. He has a magical silver hammer. He said he’ll come over and help us tomorrow night. He can’t get away till then. He’s a bouncer and works weekends.”

  “He’s willing to help us? Did you explain what we’d be facing?” I didn’t want to take anybody into that kind of danger unless they knew for sure what they were up against.

  “Yeah. He said he’d be glad to. That’s one thing about Thor’s followers. They’re usually right there when you need them. Bravery and the honor code, you know. Courage is a big thing for the Nordic crew.” Llew glanced at his phone. “My pants and shirt should be dry enough now. When are Kipa and his friend coming over?”

  I glanced at the clock. It was five-thirty.

  “Half an hour.” I retrieved Llew’s pants and shirt from the dryer. They were toasty warm, and he turned his back, slipping on his jeans under the robe. Then he tossed the robe to me and pulled on his shirt, tucking the hem of the sweater into his jeans before he buttoned up. I hung the robe over a chair and walked him to the door once he had put on his socks and shoes.

  “I’m sorry about the housekeeping scroll. Really, it was a mistake. I don’t think I’m going to carry those anymore. Too many complaints. At least it didn’t affect you.”

  I laughed. “True. But trust me, chasing after three clean-freak ferrets? Not easy. By the way, on the subject of the ferrets—?”

  “I’m looking. I promise you that. I’ll let you know what I find, if anything.” With that, he gave me a hug, slid on his coat, and headed out to his car.

  Chapter Ten

  Ten minutes after Llew left, Kipa and Gunnar showed up. I wasn’t sure just what I had assumed, but Gunnar didn’t look anything like I thought he would. For some reason, I’d expected him to be tall and blond, but he was compact—about five-seven—with long dark hair pulled back in a braid. He had the most intense eyes I had seen in a long time, slate gray ringed with black.

  The moment he came through my door, I could feel something enter right behind him, and immediately, I knew that it was attached to his aura. My wards lit up, warning me that whatever it was, I didn’t want it in my house. I couldn’t very well turn Gunnar out at this point, having invited him over in the first place, but neither did I want to let an enemy into my territory. Uncertain of what to do, I glanced at Kipa.

  “Kipa, can I talk with you for a moment?” I jerked my head toward the kitchen. Kipa followed me, a puzzled look on his face. I motioned for him to follow me toward the back of the galley kitchen and lowered my voice. “Your friend out there brought something big and nasty into my house. Whatever’s attached to him set off my wards.”

  “Well, that’s why we are here. Do you think it’s his late wife?”

  I started to answer, but Kipa pressed his finger to my lips. “First, a kiss.” He leaned down and kissed me. Stroking my face, he kissed me again, then stepped back. “Okay. So do you think it’s the ghost of his late wife?”

  Snorting, I said, “How the hell should I know? I haven’t had the chance to say two words to the man. But I will tell you this. He brought it in, and he’s leaving with it if I can’t get rid of it. I am not letting that thing loose in my house.”

  “Understood, loud and clear.”

  We returned to the dining room, where Gunnar was sitting at the table, his hands clenched together. He looked up as we entered the room.

  “How do you do?” I held out my hand, striding over to him. “I’m Raven BoneTalker.”

  “Gunnar, of the SuVahta people. Thank you for seeing me. Kipa says you might be able to help me?” He looked ragged around the edges, too gaunt for his size, with a haunted look in his eyes.

  “I’ll try, but I need you to be entirely honest with me. Kipa says that you think you’re being haunted by the spirit of your late wife. Why do you think that? What happened?” I settled at the table, flipping open a notebook and picking up a pen. Kipa sat down on the other side of Gunnar
, waiting patiently.

  “Last year, my wife Solveig and I were climbing up an ice rock on Svínafellsjökull, a glacier in Iceland. A crevasse opened below us, and Solveig lost her footing. I tried to catch her. We were roped together, but she went over the edge and almost pulled me down with her. I was doing my best to hold her up, but I couldn’t keep my traction. She must have known, because she was screaming for me to cut her loose. I refused, so she took her own knife and…” He paused, his eyes misting over.

  I kept quiet, waiting for him to continue.

  A moment later, he said, “The crevasse was so deep there was no way we could claim her body. She’s still up there, and will be forever. I can’t help but blame myself. The hike was my idea, and I had pushed her to go along. She had a headache and didn’t want to go with me, but I didn’t want to go alone and nobody else felt like hiking. I convinced her the hike would help her headache. Her death is on my conscience, and my shoulders.”

  I glanced over at Kipa, who was staring solemnly at the table.

  “You do realize that it was an accident, don’t you?” I said. “Your wife made the choice to sacrifice herself so that you wouldn’t die along with her. It’s not your fault.”

  “I told him that. We all did, but I think that it’s a difficult thing to believe when you’re in his situation.” Kipa reached over and patted Gunnar’s shoulder.

  Gunnar shrugged him off. “Try telling that to her family. They blame me.”

  It struck me as odd that a woman who had voluntarily sacrificed herself to save her husband would come back to haunt him.

  “Come into my office. I should be able to tell whether it’s her or not.” I led him back to my office, seating him at the table opposite me. I pulled out my bag of runes, holding them in my hand as they woke up.

  My runes were made out of bone. For ten years I had gathered the skulls of ravens who had died from either natural or accidental causes. When I had enough, I ground them to a fine powder, using a mortar and pestle. To the powdered bone, I had stirred in powdered quartz, powdered obsidian, and powdered tourmaline. Then I added twenty-one drops of my own blood, and a sealing agent. I’d formed them into runes, and carved the sigils onto them. Then I fired them in a kiln until they were hard. They sparkled, because of the powdered gemstones, and they were each about the size of a half-dollar coin.

  “Tell me more about what’s going on. I know you have something attached to you—that I knew from the moment you walked into my house. But what made you think your wife was haunting you in the first place? What are your symptoms?”

  Gunnar bit his lip, squinting as he thought. “I’ve been seeing phantoms—shadows here and there. I’ve seen Solveig in my dreams, which is why I thought she’s the one haunting me. I can’t eat, I’m losing weight, I can’t sleep. I feel like a shadow of myself. It feels like I’m carrying a thousand pounds on my shoulders, and I can’t shake off the gloom.”

  “All right. Here, take the bag of runes in hand, and focus on everything you just told me. Then reach inside and choose three runes. Don’t look at them, just hand them back to me one at a time.” I handed him the bag.

  Gunnar did as I asked, resting the bag of runes on one hand as he lightly cupped it with the other.

  I waited.

  Unlike my ritual room, which was purely for magical use, my office had a desk on one side, with my computer and printer on it. Several bookshelves lined the walls, which were painted a pale silver. The table we were at held the crystal ball that I used for fortune-telling. I kept my cards and other magical tools I used for the public in a chest of drawers beneath the window. It was vital that I keep a barrier between my private practice and the practice that I used for my clients. While it was all magical in nature, I needed that sense of privacy, the space in which no one came between me and the gods.

  Gunnar slowly opened the bag. Reaching in, he withdrew first one rune, then two more. He handed them to me one at a time, and I turned them facedown on the table without looking at them. Taking the bag from him, I set it to one side.

  “All right, let’s see what we can find out.” I turned over the first rune. It was the rune of Tears. I glanced up at Gunnar. “This rune represents loss. It represents grief and mourning over something that has been lost to you, or an impending loss to come. In this case, I have no doubt that it represents losing Solveig, so whatever is happening to you is definitely connected to her death.”

  I turned over the second rune. It was the rune of Betrayal, upright. I blinked. On one hand, it could represent that Solveig was the force behind this, but my instinct told me it wasn’t her. I didn’t sense her anywhere in the room, and I was pretty sure she’d already moved on.

  “This is the rune of betrayal, and in this position it means you’re being betrayed from the outside. Which means that someone caused this to happen to you.”

  “Solveig?” he asked, an anxious look on his face.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure what’s going on yet, but someone has cursed you in some way. Whoever—whatever—is attached to you is no accidental hitchhiker. Some demon or spirit is finding you a tasty morsel. Let me look at the third rune before making any decisions on this.”

  I turned over the third rune. And there it was. Curse. This was payback for something. Someone had set his sights on Gunnar and hexed him.

  “Yes, as I thought. You’ve been cursed. And curses are, ninety percent of the time, cast by someone who happens to be alive. Someone has cursed you, and the attachment is the curse. Gunnar, is there anyone who would wish you harm? Do you have any enemies or rivals?”

  Gunnar looked confused. For a moment, I thought he was going to cry, but he just leaned his elbows on the table and rested his forehead in his hands. Shaking his head, he let out a muffled, “I don’t know. It’s entirely possible.”

  As he turned to look out the window, I caught a glimpse of light from the back of his neck. What the…

  “May I take a look at the back of your neck?” I stood, frowning.

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  I crossed behind him, gently sweeping aside his braid. Sure enough, there was a sigil emblazoned on his neck, and a magical aura was seeping out from it. I couldn’t read the rune, but I knew it was a spell, nonetheless. I placed my hand over it and a dread chill washed through me. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a joke. This curse was meant to kill, in a slow, painful manner. And yet—there was still a sentient entity connected to it, though I knew down at my core it wasn’t Solveig. Whatever the entity was, it must have recognized that I was trying to tune into it because a wall slammed down between me and the energy, so quickly that it jolted me as though I’d been hit. I jumped back, shaking my head.

  “Are you all right?” Gunnar glanced over his shoulder at me.

  “Hold on a second. I’m going to get Kipa.” I poked my head out of the room, calling for Kipa to join us. He came trundling down the hall, sandwich in hand.

  “You called?”

  “Come in and sit down, please.” I stared at the both of them. “There’s an entity attached to Gunnar, and it’s connected through a rune on the back of his neck.”

  “A rune?” Gunnar looked confused.

  I lifted his hair back and took a picture of it, then showed it to him. “Have you seen this before? It’s almost like a tattoo, but think of the ink as being magical in nature.”

  Gunnar stared at the image, then shook his head. “I had no idea that was there.”

  “What does it mean?” Kipa asked.

  “I don’t know the meaning of the rune, but I do know that Gunnar’s under a curse. I’ll have to do some research, though. Curses aren’t usually connected to spirits or ghosts—at least not in this way. But there’s definitely something feeding off of him. And before you ask, no, it’s not his late wife. Solveig has moved on, I’m sure of it. She’s gone to whatever awaited her in the afterlife, so you don’t have to worry about her spirit being lost upon the glacier or anything o
f that sort.”

  “What will happen if you can’t find out what the entity wants, or how to break the hex?” Gunnar asked.

  I really didn’t want to tell him what I was thinking, but he deserved to know the truth. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry. But if we can’t figure out how to break this curse, I think it’s going to kill you.”

  Both men fell silent, and I glanced out the window, where once again, the snow was beginning to fall.

  Chapter Eleven

  All I could really do after that was to tell Gunnar to try to rest and keep himself strong.

  “I’ll meet you out at the car,” Kipa said, waving at Gunnar. Gunnar nodded, then headed out the door.

  “I’ll bring Raj in,” I said, slipping out the door behind Gunnar.

  When I returned, Raj trailing behind me, Kipa leaned back in his chair. “Well, what do you think we should do? I don’t have much experience in things of this nature.”

  “I’ll do what I can to research the sigil that’s on the back of his neck. That might tell us something. Meanwhile, you try to find out what you can about anybody who hates him enough to curse him. I’m sure you guys make plenty of enemies in your adventures.”

  It occurred to me that my follow-through on promises lately hadn’t been very good. I really needed to step up my game. Kipa stood, then kissed me, brushing the hair back from my face.

  “I’d like to spend the night, but I promised Ember that I’d go on the hunt with her. A pair of goblins are tearing up a neighborhood in Shoreline and she needs help. Herne’s busy, so he asked me to fill in for him.”

  “What about Yutani? Can he go with Ember? Or maybe Viktor?”

  “I’m sorry. I promised to help. Call me as soon as you find out anything. If you find out anything. Thank you for trying, either way. I hate the thought of losing Gunnar, especially to a curse. He’s one of the most loyal guards I could ever hope for. I want to do everything I can to help him.” He pulled me close, his breath warm against my ear. “Believe me, I’d rather stay here and make love to you than go hunt for sub-Fae, but I gave my word. And Herne and I are getting along better, so I’d like to keep it that way.”