Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby #3)(64)
Finstern stepped uncertainly aside. When the blade failed to follow him, he waved his hand in front of her face. Jenny managed to move my eyes a fraction to follow him, but otherwise she remained as still as a statue. Finstern turned to see where the acorn had come from. Twin mountains, one slate gray and the other dull brown, rose slowly above the mess of giant roots. The shapes unfolded and I realized I was looking at a pair of enormous men made of living stone.
“Elementals!” said Jackaby. “Oreborn. My word, look at the size of them! No quick movements.” I’m not sure whom he was addressing. Jenny did not appear capable of making any movements at all, and Finstern hardly warranted the warning. The giants could have him as far as I was concerned.
The gray colossus reached down. His forearm was roughly the size and color of a fully grown rhinoceros. Around one massive wrist was strapped a huge steel cuff, and his fingers looked like articulated boulders. As he spread them out I realized there was a figure standing within. She stepped down from his palm as casually as a countess from a fancy carriage. Her elegant sleeveless dress was an iridescent blend of blues and greens that hugged her slim figure as though it were soaking wet. Around her neck hung a necklace with two thick beads, identical in color to the looming creatures, and around her waist was slung a navy blue belt. A knife was sheathed on one hip and an olive green pouch was strapped to the other.
She raised her chin and the sunlight played across her strawberry blonde locks. I recognized her. The hard jawline and the faint asymmetry to her emerald eyes—she was the woman who had mimicked Jenny all those years ago. As she stepped into the clearing I realized why she had looked so familiar in Carson’s memory. It was the family resemblance.
“Hello, brother dear,” she said to Owen Finstern. “It’s been a long, long time.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Finstern’s face twisted in a tortured mess of emotions. Confusion, anger, and something like hope rolled and crashed into one another as his twin sister walked toward him. His uneven eyes were wild and wary, while the woman’s were bright and keen, but they were the same shape exactly, and the same vivid green. His unkempt hair was thin and ruddy orange while hers hung in graceful strawberry blonde waves, but otherwise the two were nearly identical. The curve of their noses, the cut of their jaws—there was no question that they were related.
“Morwen,” he whispered.
“Not recently,” she said. “Still, it’s sweet that you remember. I’ve missed you.” Her accent was American, without a trace of the Welsh tones that distinguished her brother’s speech.
“How long have you been watching me?” Finstern demanded.
“Long enough to step in before you got yourself killed.” She nodded toward Jenny—who was still locked in my frozen body. “It’s a hex, by the way. It won’t hold forever, but it will last long enough for our purposes. Our scouts in the Annwyn got word you had crossed over. You didn’t use the Rend, either—you managed to open a veil-gate. Father will be very impressed. Where did you find it?”
“Don’t tell her anything!” Jackaby yelled. “She’s a nixie! They’re tricksters, Finstern! Liars by nature!”
Morwen turned on her heel. “You’re being very rude, Detective! Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a family reunion?” She put a hand to her chest and clasped the gray marble. “Alloch, would you please teach Mr. Jackaby not to interrupt me when I’m speaking?”
The ground shook as the slate gray giant closed the distance between itself and Jackaby in two wide steps. The hulking thing was twenty feet tall with hands that could palm a packhorse. Jackaby leapt aside, but the oreborn moved with remarkable speed for a landmass. It caught him in one huge granite fist and lifted him ten feet up in the air. Jackaby struggled, his feet kicking in vain.
“The stones!” he croaked as the oreborn’s fingers pressed into his chest. “The stones around her neck, Finstern—that’s how she’s controlling the elementals. They’re bound by the bracers on their wrists. Break the—” Alloch tightened his hold.
“That’s better,” said Morwen. “Where were we?”
“You were about to explain why I should help you,” said Finstern.
“We’re kin, Owen.” Morwen gave him a smile that seemed to be trying just a little too hard. “It’s time you joined the family business.”
“You left me to rot. You expect me to believe you suddenly want me back?”
“Who do you think sent you the invitation?” The smile was beatific, but it never quite melted the frost of her cold eyes. “It was my idea to bring you in. I want you to join us, Owen. Father wants you, too. He’s been watching.”
Owen’s eye twitched. He swallowed and took a deep breath. “Father?”
“We want the same thing, brother. In fact, I’m looking forward to seeing you finish what you’ve started.” She nodded toward Finstern’s device. “It’s about time you got a little magic of your own, isn’t it? You’ve already proven yourself with science. Father was willing to bring you in on the merits of your work alone—now imagine what he would think of you with powers, as well. What a welcome you will receive as his rightful heir. Owen Finstern, the one true Seer and key to the coming kingdom.”