Lair of Dreams (The Diviners #2) (61 page)

“We are saving her,” he reminded her.

Wai-Mae glowed, a star brightening before death. Bright rays fractured her body, a violent birth, an inevitable collapse. And then there was an explosion of white light, shooting out across the dreamscape.
Henry and Ling shielded each other and shut their eyes against its brilliance.

In the graveyard of Trinity Church, Memphis and Evie dug at the muddy earth to make a shallow grave. She swiped a filthy, wet arm across her equally sopping brow.

“Where are they?” she called over the rain.

“I’m sure they’ll be here any second,” Memphis answered, but he sounded nervous. “Best thing we can do is to keep digging.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Evie groused.

“Memphis!” Theta came tearing around the corner of New York’s oldest church with Sam right behind her.

Memphis leaped up and embraced her. “I was so worried about you.”

“We ran into a little trouble with a fella who wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Sam said.

“One of those things had you cornered?” Memphis said.

Theta nodded.

“How’d you get away?” Memphis reached for Theta’s hands and she cried out. Memphis saw the weeping flesh there. “Theta! How’d you get these burns?”

“I-I…”

“It was a steam pipe,” Sam said with a quick glance at Theta. “Let’s just get these bones into hallowed ground and give ’em a proper burial.”

Sam, Evie, and Memphis dug furiously until they’d managed a decent hole.

“Good enough, you think, Memphis?” Sam asked.

“
I
say it’s good enough,” Evie insisted.

“Then here goes nothing,” Sam said, rocking back on his heels and breathing heavily.

Memphis and Theta lowered Wai-Mae’s skull and remaining bones into the shallow grave, then Memphis packed the dirt over it with hands made cold by the wet and the chill in the air.

“I don’t know about Chinese rituals. But it seems as if we oughta say a prayer of some kind,” Memphis said.

“What kinda prayer do you say to get rid of a ghost?” Theta asked.

“I surely don’t know. But I expect a prayer of any kind is better than none.”

All of them bowed their heads except for Sam.

“Sam?” Evie nudged him with an elbow.

“Trust me: If God exists, he’ll know I’m faking it.”

Memphis kneeled in the mud. He placed one hand on the grave. “Be at peace, restless spirit,” he whispered. He felt the tiniest jolt, a fraction of connection, and then it was gone.

“Is that it? Did we do it?” Theta asked.

Sam shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’m not the ghost expert. Is anything trying to kill us?”

Under the shadow of Trinity Church’s great gothic spire, they huddled together in the rain, listening for the hungry wraiths and hearing nothing but the drops and the sudden comfort of the city’s horns and irritable shouts and constant hum of noise.

“I think we did it,” Memphis said with both relief and awe.

“Let’s go back to the museum,” Theta said, teeth chattering. “I want to know if Henry’s all right.”

“Let me see those hands first,” Memphis said.

“Poet…”

“Theta.”

Reluctantly, Theta held out her raw palms. Memphis took them in his own hands.

Theta winced.

“Sorry,” Memphis said. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Memphis shut his eyes. The spark when it caught was gentle, like being sweetly cradled in the healing trance. He heard drums and the joyful noise of ancestor spirits singing, and up above was blue, blue sky forever. His body warmed. He heard Theta’s voice calling, “Memphis?”

Theta stood in front of him, grinning like somebody seeing happiness for the first time. “I can feel you,” she said without actually speaking aloud. “And I’m not afraid.”

Her head dipped back and her eyes closed. A rush came over Memphis; he felt made of light. The singing was everywhere, and for just a moment the two of them were joined, one body, one soul, as if they’d jumped a broom and landed on the other side in a place of sunshine.

Memphis’s eyes fluttered open. Theta’s eyes were wide, and she was crying.

“Did I hurt you?”

She laughed through tears. “You could never hurt me.”

Her hands lay in Memphis’s, the last of the burns fading to nothing.

In the rain-swollen tunnels, the wraiths vanished with a long sigh. The subways scattered the last of their essence as they rattled through, carrying sleepy passengers eager for bed, ready for sleep. Tonight, their dreams would be safe.

In the dreamscape, the shining lair had begun its final unwinding. Henry and Ling watched it go, its memories lost to whatever archive held such passions.

“Louis?” Ling asked after a moment. The lights were winking out, one by one.

Henry shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Henry.”

Henry looked up at the ceiling, where the herringbone pattern lost its glorious detail. “I think it’s time we woke up, don’t you?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

“You know what to do?”

“Don’t worry,” Ling assured him.

“I’m not,” Henry said. “Ling, darlin’, it’s been a long night. You’ve done well. You can wake up now, anytime you like. Wake up, Ling Chan.”

Ling’s face went slack. Her eyelids fluttered. And then she was
gone from the dream world, leaving only the vaguest sense she’d ever been there at all, just another shifting of atoms. And just before she woke, she thought she saw George, shimmering and golden, smiling at her from the bend in Doyers Street on a New Year’s Day, fireworks exploding with color high above his head, a moon cake in his hand, as if he had all the time in the world to enjoy it.

While Henry waited for Ling to wake him back in the real world, he sat one last time at the Chickering before it, too, was gone. He rested his fingers on the keys, and then he began to play. He was still playing when he heard the alarm begin to scream, and the last remnants of the dream station blurred into feathery whiteness and disappeared forever.

It was Theta’s mud-spattered, worried face Henry saw first through the narrow slits of his heavy eyes when he awoke back in the museum.

“Henry?” she pleaded. She was soaked through and smelled like a garbage dump, but she was by his side.

“Theta,” he croaked.

“Henry!” Theta hugged him. Henry gagged. “Whatsa matter? You sick?”

“No.” Henry coughed. “You smell bad.”

Theta was laughing and crying at the same time.

“How’s my best girl?” Henry asked.

“Everything’s jake,” Theta said, holding tightly to him.

Memphis stood back, leaving them be. After all, didn’t he have a brother, too?

“Ling,” Henry said, reaching for her. Theta went to pull Ling into the circle, even though she looked uncomfortable.

“I don’t hug,” Ling said, sandwiched between the two of them.

“Sam!” Sam said, hugging himself. “You’re welcome. Don’t mention it.”

Evie wasn’t right. Her eyes were glassy and she seemed unsteady on her feet.

“Evil?” Theta asked, concerned.

“Did one of those things get her?” Ling asked.

“Evie,” Sam said. “Hey. You okay?”

Evie turned and threw up.

It was nearly dawn. Filthy and famished, Theta, Memphis, and Sam crowded around the long table, wolfing down the limp watercress sandwiches. Theta offered Henry half of hers. Jericho handed Ling a cup of broth.

“It’s not fancy, but it’s warm,” he said, and she thanked him with a nod. “Could I use your telephone, please?”

Jericho brought her the phone as well, and a moment later, he could hear Ling speaking Chinese in hushed tones to someone.

Across the room, Mabel poked the dying fire into flames to chase away the chill. Evie sprawled in a chair, nursing a cup of coffee. She looked rough. The remnants of the scuttled Diviners exhibit were still everywhere.

Theta took out a cigarette.

“There’s no smoking in the museum,” Jericho said.

Theta glared up at him as she struck a match. “There is now. Hand me that ashtray, will ya, Mabesie?”

“I thought I was the only one who called you Mabesie,” Evie said.

Theta shrugged and kept smoking. Mabel folded her arms across her chest and looked away.

Ling hung up the telephone and took a sip of her broth.

“Everything copacetic with your parents?” Sam asked.

“There was a protest. People surrounded the mayor’s office, and he gave the order to bring everyone back to Chinatown. But I wouldn’t say everything is copacetic. It’s only one battle.”

“Amen,” Memphis said, locking eyes with Ling, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

“As we’re all present and accounted for, I call this meeting to order.” Jericho paced the room, just as Will so often did. “It should be patently clear by now that something is going on in this country. First
John Hobbes. Then this business with Wai-Mae and those wraiths in the tunnels. There are ghosts and demons among us. Every day, there are more reports. And it seems like we’re the only ones who can do something about it.”

“You mean we have to work together,” Mabel said coolly, looking from Evie to Jericho.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You trying to unionize us, Mabel?”

“No. Even the Wobblies are easier to organize,” she said.

Evie’s eyes were still closed. “I hate ghosts.”

“All these powers and we know bupkes about ’em,” Sam said. “It’s like having the keys to a brand-new roadster and not knowing how to drive it.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the steady percussion of the rain and the crackle of the fire. With a sigh, Evie sat up and opened her bloodshot eyes. “Sam, I think we should tell them about what we’ve found.”

“Nothing doing,” Sam said.

“Either you do it or I will.”

“This is twice you’ve done this to me. Remind me never to tell you a secret again.”

“It’s not your secret anymore.”

“Fine,” Sam grumbled. He placed a coded punch card on the table. It was a little worse for the wear, thanks to the evening’s activities, but it was still intact.

“What’s this?” Memphis asked, picking it up.

“Evie and I found these files in a basement office in the post office. Used to belong to the U.S. Department of Paranormal.”

“The what?” Ling asked.

“It was a secret government division started by President Roosevelt to investigate supernatural phenomena and recruit Diviners to aid in the interests of national security,” Jericho explained.

“Teddy Roosevelt? On the level?” Theta said, impressed.

“Hey. How’d you know that, Freddy?” Sam asked.

“It’s all here in Will’s letters to Cornelius Rathbone. Diviners have
been around since the dawn of the country,” Jericho explained, gesturing to the useless Diviners exhibit. “You’d know that if you’d been around. Sam, Evie, Memphis, Ling, Henry—every one of you is a Diviner in some way.”

Mabel put a hand on Theta’s shoulder. “Some of us are just hideously ordinary, I suppose. Or does that make us extraordinary?” Mabel said, digging at Jericho just a bit.

Sam and Theta exchanged a furtive glance, but Evie caught it.

“What was that look about?” Evie asked.

“Nothing. Just stretching my eyes,” Sam said quickly. “So what now? Do we start a speakeasy? A ghosty quilting bee? Does
everybody
want a radio show?”