somewhere I need to go.”
His eyebrows bunched together like two wads of white cotton. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
“Sort of.” Spooks. That’s what Aydin had said I’d find in the city at night. I hated spooks. “There’s someone I need to see.”
“Saint Geraldine?”
My ears began to ring. How the hell…? “You know about her?”
“Sure.” Elmo carried a tray full of cups to the sink. “Everyone the Vyantara brings to Denver has to talk to the saint. It’s tradition.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “And what does she tell them?”
“Nothing. She won’t talk to just anybody.” He grunted while stepping up on a stool to reach the faucet. “The ones who tried were sent away.”
“How do you know this?”
“Aydin told me.”
Aydin had suspected the destination of my “errands” and steered me away from the cathedral. There was a history there, he knew what it was, and he was protecting me. Or was he protecting Geraldine from me?
If Geraldine was some sort of oracle, could she possibly give me the answers I longed for?
The cot creaked when I sat down and the dirt floor at my feet radiated a chill right through my boots. I told myself I’d only stay at Elmo’s until the sun came up. Ghosts were less active during the day.
“I’ll start a fire,” Elmo said before I could complain of the cold. “Let me close up shop first.”
Within a couple of minutes I heard him talking to his customers. Nosy person that I am, I got up to see what was going on.
“Okay, folks,” Elmo said. “Daylight’s just an hour away. Time to close up.”
Someone said, “Aww, come on. I haven’t finished my latte.” Then came the laughter, followed by more good-natured complaining. Stools scudded across the dirt floor as people got up to leave. I heard footsteps, some made by stomping shoes and others by clip-clopping hooves.
I peeked around the corner and watched as one by one, Elmo’s patrons passed through the curtain, stirring up lines of energy that zapped the air like tiny lightning bolts. I caught a glimpse of deep emerald foliage dotted with bright colors that might have been flowers. It happened so fast I couldn’t tell for sure.
The two in the group who were human—I guessed they were witches—left through the main door. I didn’t doubt they were curious to follow their fey friends, but the land of Faery was off-limits to humans. At least that’s what I’d been told. Considering the contradictory information I’d received over the years, I didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Elmo brushed past me to gather his barista tools and take them to the sink.
I had to know how it was possible for the fey to come and go as they pleased. Where was the sorcerer who summoned them?
“Elmo,” I said. “Are you—?”
“No.” He tossed some kindling into a pot-bellied stove in the corner. “I’m not a sorcerer. And neither is Aydin.”
There was so much I didn’t understand. I now questioned everything the Vyantara had ever taught me. Which had been lies and what was the truth?
“The fey can’t cross over and then leave on their own, can they? Someone must have summoned them.”
Elmo shook his head. “I invited them. Aydin must have explained that to you.” He turned from the sink to face me. “The land of Faery is loaded with white magic. The fey don’t need a sorcerer to open the veil for them, they just need an invitation.” He held out his right hand with the sigil branded on the palm. “This is my invitation. Aydin has one just like it.”
An idea came to me that made my heart jump. “So humans can cross to their side, as well?” Meaning I might have a means of escape from the Vyantara.
“I wish it were that easy.” He gestured for me to follow him to the back room, where he pulled a stool close to the cot. He sat, his short legs barely touching the floor, and motioned me to sit beside him. “Where you and I are right now? This plane,
His eyebrows bunched together like two wads of white cotton. “Do you even know where you’re going?”
“Sort of.” Spooks. That’s what Aydin had said I’d find in the city at night. I hated spooks. “There’s someone I need to see.”
“Saint Geraldine?”
My ears began to ring. How the hell…? “You know about her?”
“Sure.” Elmo carried a tray full of cups to the sink. “Everyone the Vyantara brings to Denver has to talk to the saint. It’s tradition.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “And what does she tell them?”
“Nothing. She won’t talk to just anybody.” He grunted while stepping up on a stool to reach the faucet. “The ones who tried were sent away.”
“How do you know this?”
“Aydin told me.”
Aydin had suspected the destination of my “errands” and steered me away from the cathedral. There was a history there, he knew what it was, and he was protecting me. Or was he protecting Geraldine from me?
If Geraldine was some sort of oracle, could she possibly give me the answers I longed for?
The cot creaked when I sat down and the dirt floor at my feet radiated a chill right through my boots. I told myself I’d only stay at Elmo’s until the sun came up. Ghosts were less active during the day.
“I’ll start a fire,” Elmo said before I could complain of the cold. “Let me close up shop first.”
Within a couple of minutes I heard him talking to his customers. Nosy person that I am, I got up to see what was going on.
“Okay, folks,” Elmo said. “Daylight’s just an hour away. Time to close up.”
Someone said, “Aww, come on. I haven’t finished my latte.” Then came the laughter, followed by more good-natured complaining. Stools scudded across the dirt floor as people got up to leave. I heard footsteps, some made by stomping shoes and others by clip-clopping hooves.
I peeked around the corner and watched as one by one, Elmo’s patrons passed through the curtain, stirring up lines of energy that zapped the air like tiny lightning bolts. I caught a glimpse of deep emerald foliage dotted with bright colors that might have been flowers. It happened so fast I couldn’t tell for sure.
The two in the group who were human—I guessed they were witches—left through the main door. I didn’t doubt they were curious to follow their fey friends, but the land of Faery was off-limits to humans. At least that’s what I’d been told. Considering the contradictory information I’d received over the years, I didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Elmo brushed past me to gather his barista tools and take them to the sink.
I had to know how it was possible for the fey to come and go as they pleased. Where was the sorcerer who summoned them?
“Elmo,” I said. “Are you—?”
“No.” He tossed some kindling into a pot-bellied stove in the corner. “I’m not a sorcerer. And neither is Aydin.”
There was so much I didn’t understand. I now questioned everything the Vyantara had ever taught me. Which had been lies and what was the truth?
“The fey can’t cross over and then leave on their own, can they? Someone must have summoned them.”
Elmo shook his head. “I invited them. Aydin must have explained that to you.” He turned from the sink to face me. “The land of Faery is loaded with white magic. The fey don’t need a sorcerer to open the veil for them, they just need an invitation.” He held out his right hand with the sigil branded on the palm. “This is my invitation. Aydin has one just like it.”
An idea came to me that made my heart jump. “So humans can cross to their side, as well?” Meaning I might have a means of escape from the Vyantara.
“I wish it were that easy.” He gestured for me to follow him to the back room, where he pulled a stool close to the cot. He sat, his short legs barely touching the floor, and motioned me to sit beside him. “Where you and I are right now? This plane,
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