Ghost Light

Chapter 19

I’m not sure if it was the awakening of my fae blood or the awareness that the place existed, but Club Nexus wasn’t difficult to find. As soon as we were within a block of the club, I could feel the energies of the place pulling me closer. In my second sight the nightclub shone like a beacon.

I took a deep, calming breath and closed my eyes. I remembered what Kaye had said about how the club sat on a magical nexus point where lines of power intersected. I opened my eyes and gasped. Threads of neon light ran out from the location of the club in every direction.

I picked a single pink ley line and followed. My skin prickled and the hair on my arms stood on end. I continued on toward the intersection of threads, feeling energized for the first time in days. Walking along the ley line was like knocking back a shot of espresso. It was no wonder fae had chosen this place to gather.

When the club was within sight, I stopped to examine the surrounding street. The only source of light was the glow of power coming from the skein of ley lines running through the building which housed the club. There were no streetlamps in this part of town and the windows of nearby buildings stood dark. The street was empty except for the fae bouncer working the door.

A huge ogre stood outside the club, eyeing me with obvious scrutiny. The bulge in his suit jacket told me he was carrying, not that he needed a weapon. The guy had muscles the size of tree trunks. He had to be club security.

I swallowed hard, wishing I could have called Jenna for backup. But she was busy working an official cleanup job out in the burbs. Then again, maybe bringing a Hunter along would have been foolhardy. I was here to talk, not wage a war.

The ogre sniffed at the air as I started across the street. At our approach, he raised an arm which effectively blocked the door.

“Name?” he asked.

“Ivy Granger,” I said.

“Court?” he asked.

“Unseelie,” I said.

“Title?” he asked.

It was now or never—time to come out of the fae closet. I took a breath and lifted my chin.

“Wisp princess, daughter of Will-o’-the-Wisp, king of the wisps,” I said.

The ogre raised an eyebrow and checked something off on a list that magically appeared in one hand.

“You may enter,” he said.

I stepped to one side and crossed my arms, fingers brushing my throwing knives.

“I’ll wait for my friends, if you don’t mind,” I said.

The ogre rolled his eyes, gave me a suit-yourself shrug, and turned to Ceff.

“Name?” he asked.

“Ceffyl Dŵr,” Ceff said.

“Court?” he asked.

“Unseelie,” Ceff said.

“Title?” he asked.

“King of the kelpies,” Ceff said.

“You may enter,” he said.

Ceff stepped up next to me and waited. The ogre leaned toward Jinx and sniffed. I held my breath, ready to launch myself between the two if needed.

“Human?” he asked.

“She’s with me,” I said.

“Food or vassal?” he asked.

“Partner,” I said, voice hard.

“Vassal,” Ceff said.

“You may enter,” he said.

The ogre stepped away from Jinx and opened the door. As we passed through the entrance he sniffed Jinx’s hair and drooled.

“Too bad,” he muttered.

Jinx tensed. Jinx is not food, my mind screamed. The grips of my throwing knives hit my palms, but weapons were unnecessary. Jinx kept walking, following us into the faerie den. The ogre sighed and returned to his post beside the door. My best friend may have looked and smelled like a harmless human, but she had balls of steel.

We descended a spiral staircase that was both beautiful to look at and practical in terms of defense. If any unauthorized guests ever made it past the door, the tight curves of the staircase would slow an assault. It also gave the entire room an ample view of Jinx’s legs as we entered the club.

The stairs cut through the ceiling of the club, giving us a bird’s eye view. The space below was cavernous.

Music thumped over an invisible sound system, the stairs beneath my feet vibrating with each beat. The sensation at this height was nauseating, but I was relieved that the haunting notes of faerie compulsion were absent. The music was unusual, but decidedly human—a mix of techno, industrial, and EBM with threads of sitar and djembe drums woven throughout.

My heartbeat started to match the pulse of the music and I shifted my focus. The music may not carry a compulsion, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t powerful, or a dangerous distraction.

I turned my attention to the supernatural club goers. Fae of every size, shape, and court affiliation crowded the room. Nymphs, sylphs, kappa, draugr, and henkies filled the dance floor. One group of tall, slender fae dressed in old fashioned clothing moved through the steps of a waltz, dancing to their own inner music.

But not every faerie was dancing. Fae lined the walls, lounged on couches, or perched at the bar. Strobe lights from the dance floor illuminated spiral horns, beautiful eyes, perfect teeth, curled tusks, pale feathers, dripping fangs, and sharp talons—capturing bizarre Kodak moments interrupted by darkness.

I pulled my attention from the multitude of fae in the lower levels to a roped off area high above their heads. A second tier rose above the crowd and here fae gathered in small, private groupings. These gathering places were set far apart from each other, allowing for maximum privacy. To ensure that they were not disturbed, each area boasted its own security. Judging from what I could see from my aerial vantage point, the club also offered these elite clients a lavish spread of food, drink, and entertainment.

This had to be the location set aside for fae royalty.

I hurried down the stairs, ready to make a beeline for the faeries on the second tier. If Sir Torn was here, he’d be on that upper level. The club may be neutral ground, but it was organized to reflect fae hierarchy—and Torn was a cat sidhe lord.

The music stopped, the room going silent, and I froze mid-step. Every eye in the place turned to the stairs where we hung from the ceiling like flies on fly paper. If this was a trap, we were as good as dead.

I slowly lowered my foot and shifted my weight onto the balls of my feet. I scanned the room for movement, waiting for a sign from the fae below. I caught a flash of flame to my right and spun, chiding myself. I was so focused on the floor below that I hadn’t searched the domed ceiling that arched just inches from our heads.

A fiery ball of flame and feathers rushed toward me. I reached for my throwing knives, but someone grabbed my sleeve, halting the movement. I risked a glance over my shoulder to see Ceff holding my jacket. He gave a quick, short shake of his head. I raised an eyebrow in question, but he was already whispering to Jinx who was reaching for her crossbow.

I lowered my hands, but kept them loose at my side. If Ceff believed the fiery ball flying toward me wasn’t a threat, then I’d play along—for now.

Seconds later a winged phoenix settled on the railing beside me. It cocked its head at me, making a chirping sound low its throat. After a moment’s inspection, it turned, satisfied, and faced the crowd. Flickers of flame raced along the edges of its red and gold feathers, sending up tendrils of cinnamon and myrrh scented smoke that made my eyes water. The phoenix puffed itself up, a rush of heat flowing out from its body, as it ruffled its feathers and addressed the crowd below.

“Ivy Granger, princess, daughter of Will-o’-the-Wisp, king of the wisps,” it said. “And…”

Ceff leaned forward and whispered something to the bird-like fae.

“And her consort Ceffyl Dŵr, king of the kelpies,” it said. “And vassal.”

Consort? Ceff had made our courtship official. A small, pleased smile touched my lips. Before I could turn to say anything to Ceff, the phoenix burst into flame. The crowd clapped as ash sifted over their heads like macabre confetti.

So much for making a discreet entrance.

Music began to play and the buzz of conversation filled the air. Dancers returned to the dance floor, but many fae continued to watch the three of us make our way down the spiral staircase. I made a mental note of who seemed the most openly interested and where they were located within the club.

It would have been better to have had a schematic of the place to work with, but I’d taken in the basic layout as we made our entrance. The club was laid out in a circular, spiral pattern. I used the large bar, stocked with bottles of glowing liquids, to orient myself.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I strode through the crowd, holding my chin high. A sea of dancers parted to make way for the two royals and their human vassal. My shoulder blades itched, feeling the eyes of strangers at my back, but I continued on toward the velvet ropes I’d seen from above.

I flipped my hair over my shoulder and stole a quick glance at my companions. Ceff looked like a man in his element. We may not have been at sea, but Ceff was used to large, royal audiences. His role as kelpie king often meant lengthy negotiations with both enemy and allied faerie delegations and the mandatory attendance of fae social functions. Ceff moved through the crowd with the strength, grace, and confidence of a champion race horse.

Jinx matched Ceff’s posture though her eyes were wide and the knuckles of the hand holding the strap of her weapons bag were white. More than one fae leaned in closer for a better look or sniff, as if they were at a wine tasting and testing Jinx’s vintage. I don’t know how she tolerated the behavior.

If it had been me, I might have staked them all with iron. Thankfully, my princess status demanded space—either that or I still smelled of rotting ghoul guts. The crowd of fae continued to part before me, allowing me to move unhindered. A trickle of sweat ran down my back, but I took a calming breath and tried not to think of the potential threat of nightmare visions from so many immortals.

I managed to walk confidently across the room, but by the time we reached the roped off stairs my skin had begun to glow. If I’d been on the city streets, I’d have worried. But I was in a faerie club and had come out of the proverbial closet. For once, I didn’t care about my glowing skin. Let them stare.

I narrowed my eyes at the two bouncers guarding access to the upper level. A griffin stood to the right of the stairs and a boggart to my left, one light fae and one dark. I suppose in a club filled with both Seelie and Unseelie fae, it made sense to have both sides equally represented by security.

I addressed both of the bouncers, but since wisps are tied to the Unseelie court, I turned slightly toward the boggart. The creature was ugly, hairy, and smelly. Its hair was so greasy, you could use it to fuel a lamp for weeks, but I gave it my best smile.

“Ivy Granger, wisp princess, Ceffyl Dŵr, kelpie king, and our human vassal to see Sir Torn,” I said.

The boggart raised his spear, but the griffin nodded and swept the rope aside. The boggart looked disappointed. I hadn’t made a friend there. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried smiling at the creature. I strode up the wide steps before the griffin could change his mind.

“Would you prefer I do the talking from now on?” Ceff asked.

“No,” I said.

Jinx giggled and Ceff shrugged. I turned left at the top of the stairs and started scanning the booths for cat sidhe, ignoring them both. I knew deep down that Ceff was more qualified to do the talking. He was handsome, charming, and skilled at negotiating with fae from both courts. But this was my gig. The parents of those children had come to me for help, not the kelpie king. It was my responsibility to bring them home.

Bodyguards watched us intently and fingered their weapons as we sauntered along the curved walkway, though so far none had impeded our circuit. I hoped to keep it that way. As much as I wanted to run from booth to booth yelling for Torn, an altercation would only delay us further. I kept my hands out where the guards could see them and didn’t make any quick, threatening motions.

We moved silently as we passed a trio of centaur guards, my boots sinking deeply into thick, spongy moss. Each section of the upper tier contained a magical microenvironment suited to the fae who were there for both business and pleasure. These microcosms spilled out onto the adjacent walkway, creating a number of potential hazards. So far we’d encountered flames, ooze, ice, and deadly looking insects, but not one cat—until now.

A small cat sidhe watched us from the shadow of a huge, elephant-ear shaped fern. The cat was taking a chance exploring outside cat sidhe territory, but you know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.

“Cat sidhe at two o’clock,” I whispered.

Ceff nodded and Jinx gave me a thumbs up. I eased my way slowly toward the fern, pretending to admire the foliage. I didn’t want to scare the cat sidhe, or give his location away to the nearby guards.

“This fern is beautiful,” I said. “It looks just like an ear, but I’m actually searching for one that’s Torn.”

I flicked my eyes at the cat and winked. The cat sidhe blinked at me and tilted its head. Apparently, I had its attention.

“Ah, look, I found some Ivy,” I said.

There wasn’t any ivy in sight, but the centaur guards didn’t notice. With my hand shielded by my body, I pointed to myself when I said my name. Hopefully the cat sidhe could let Sir Torn know I was here. Or better yet, take me to him.

The cat sidhe’s body faded away replaced my flickering shadows. It stepped out from under the giant fern and trotted back the way we came. I narrowed my eyes at the shadow cat and sighed. I just hoped it wasn’t leading us on a wild goose, or cat, chase.

I turned and followed, though the cat sidhe was difficult to see even with my second sight. If I hadn’t already known it was there, it could have passed by unseen. I kept my eyes on the cat sidhe, careful not to lose its whereabouts.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about dangers underfoot. The cat always seemed to know the best path, and following in its footsteps took less time than our previous trip. Where a realm of ice overlapped with a slime coated cave, the cat sidhe turned left.

It padded over to a section of ice covered stone and winked out of sight. I gasped and hurried toward where it last stood. Ceff and Jinx followed, looking at me quizzically.

“It disappeared right here,” I said, pointing at a solid wall of stone.

“Dude, this isn’t a Heinlein novel, cats don’t walk through walls,” Jinx said.

“Maybe, in this case, they do,” Ceff said.

He ran his hands over ice and stone, reaching into every notch and crevice. After a moment he smiled, finding what he was searching for.

“There’s an opening here,” he said.

Ceff stepped to his left and…disappeared. My heart sped up and I reached for my knives, but before they hit my palms, Ceff had reappeared. He waved his arm into an invisible entrance, the limb seeming to vanish.

Ah, there was a gap in the overlapping stone leaving the illusion of a solid wall with an entrance large enough for us to walk through single file. I couldn’t see more than a foot inside, but I nodded. Cat sidhe are creatures of shadow and mystery. It made sense that the entrance to the club’s representation of their world would be dark and hidden.

Ceff ducked back inside, Jinx at his heels. The cat sidhe had passed through this entrance. Hopefully, Sir Torn would be on the other side. I took one last look at the club and turned to follow my friends through the nearly invisible door.

I just hoped the exit wasn’t as difficult to find.