Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby #3)(77)

“They were the ones who opened my safe, I’d wager,” Jackaby continued. “Mortal locks are paltry things to a mage of even middling caliber, and they were the ones who attacked Pavel, not you. He must have said too much, or else his benefactors were afraid he might. It explains why Finstern’s device overloaded, as well. His machine wasn’t pulling energy out of you, it was pulling it through you. Without even knowing it, Finstern stuck his tap clean through the barrel and started emptying the reservoir on the other side of it. Whoever’s on the other side is powerful, too. Beyond powerful.” He gritted his teeth. “We need to know who’s over there.”

“How?”

“The stone appears to function in the same way possession does. It opens a window. When Miss Cavanaugh possessed you, you said you saw her memories. What did you see when you were under the Dire Council’s control?”

“I—I don’t . . . nothing. I just felt woozy and everything went dark.”

“There has to be something! You can look both ways through a window. Think, Miss Rook!”

“Let her be,” Jenny said, floating down beside me. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Jackaby shook his head. “The council has been ahead of us every step of the way. This may be our only chance to close the gap.” He loosened the cords on the little purse. “I’m going to look through myself. You two watch me closely. If I so much as lift a finger, you knock the stone out of my hands.”

“What? No! Are you mad?” Jenny said.

“Time is running out.”

“No. Not you,” I said. Jackaby and Jenny both looked at me. “It can’t be you. You’re the one they’re after. They need your eyes, and if you’re right, you’d be giving them exactly what they want. No, it has to be me.”

“Abigail . . .” said Jenny.

“Besides,” I said. “I can’t see if anything comes through from the other side, but Jackaby can. He can watch for the aura and remove the stone the second anyone tries to take over.”

“Abigail, no . . .” Jenny pleaded.

“I can’t ask this of you,” said Jackaby.

“You don’t have to. They used me. I want to return the favor.”

I sat down at the ransacked desk and Jackaby picked up the pouch. I held out my hand. Very carefully, he dropped the stone into my outstretched palm. I could see Jenny drifting back and forth behind him, worrying the translucent lace on her dress. At first nothing happened. I stared at the carved circles and imagined opening a window. I pushed with all my mental muscles against the stone. Still nothing for several seconds.

The sensation came abruptly. The scar on my temple felt hot, but I ignored the pain and focused on the little stone, concentrating hard. The room spun and the edges of my vision dimmed. A tunnel of darkness closed in until all that remained were the stone’s rough circles. The lines were suddenly more than carvings. They curved high above me and described the outline of a long tunnel through the darkness. The walls to either side were made of shadows and gloom. I moved through the passage—falling or flying, I could not say—drifting through a series of uneven rings. Something shimmered ahead of me, a single star in the sea of black. I drew closer.

Pure white light punctured the darkness, and in the center of it stood a man. The figure was almost lost in the blinding brightness. His features were inscrutable—a charcoal silhouette against the halo of light. I suddenly wanted to be anywhere else, but I willed myself to inch closer, trying to discern any details.

THE AGE OF MEN HAS ENDED. The thought had no voice, no accent. The words simply sprang from inside my head, echoing like cannon fire. I AM THE KING OF THE EARTH AND THE ANNWYN. I AM DONE WITH YOUR KIND AND I AM DONE WITH YOUR WALLS AND I AM DONE WITH WAITING. The figure lunged forward and I saw his eyes in the darkness, blood red and full of malice.

The stone clacked against the desk. The dark tunnel fell away and I was back in the house on Augur Lane. I blinked. My cheek was on fire. Jackaby slipped the channel back into the red pouch and pulled the cords tight.

“Well?” he said. “What did you see?”

I held on to the desk with both hands to keep from spinning off the chair. “He’s there. He called himself a king. It was like he was waiting for me at the end of a long—” I caught my breath. “Red eyes and the end of a long, dark hallway. That’s what Eleanor was seeing all those years ago! The hallway wasn’t a place at all. It was a channel, straight to him.”

“He was in her head?” said Jackaby. “For months, he was in Eleanor’s head.” His hands balled into fists. “But she resisted. She died resisting. They needed her. The Dire Council needed her sight and she died rather than let them take it.”

“And now they need you,” said Jenny, quietly.

“He spoke to me,” I said. “The king of the earth and the Annwyn. He said he was done with walls and he was done waiting.”

“Good,” said Jackaby.

“Good?” said Jenny.

“Good. All this time we’ve been chasing shadows while he was building war machines and murdering innocent bystanders. Not anymore. We took his teeth when we bested Pavel and we bound his hands when we bested Morwen. If this king wants my eyes he’ll need to come out of the shadows to get them himself. We’re finally forcing his hand instead of the other way around. He’s tired of waiting? Good. So am I.”