Chapter 22
The town was, as Ben predicted, a gridlocked nightmare, the huge parade of floats and costumed performers that would wind through town and end up at an open-air amphitheater already under way, which meant much of the town was blocked off by both barricades and dense streams of people.
Ben had to resort to driving up on sidewalks a couple of times, scattering people as he slowly made his way around the edges until he was clear of the town proper, and into the neighborhood that looked down on the town.
The parade must be running through here, too, I commented as we zipped along the winding road that led to de Marco’s house. Barricades lined the street, and people were already gathering outside their houses, setting up coolers and portable chairs.
That’s just what we need. Hopefully we’ll have your mother and be able to leave before it gets to us, Ben said, skillfully zipping around obstructions, barriers, and the occasional traffic cop directing neighborhood residents. Is that it?
Yes. I don’t see David’s car.
He wouldn’t park here where de Marco could see. Ben stopped next to the square fountain.
My eyes strayed to the gargoyle-like projections from the side of the house. I shivered at the glint of the runes emphasized by the light pouring out of the windows. It was as if they glowed slightly in the thick night air, giving a sinister feel to an already charged atmosphere.
In the distance, coming from the valley below, the faint sounds of music and drums could be heard as the parade started to wind its way through the neighborhoods. I looked up at the house as I got off the bike and wondered if my mother was in it, or if de Marco had his hidden love nest elsewhere.
“Do we wait for David?” I asked in a whisper, feeling the Vikingahärta grow warm beneath my shirt.
Ben cocked his head for a second as if he was listening, then shook it. “I would prefer to get Miranda out of de Marco’s keeping before David arrives to deal with him.”
“Deal with him how?” I caught a sense of concern in Ben that had me opening my eyes in surprise. David is going to attack de Marco?
So he says. He hasn’t explained to me all his reasoning yet, but I believe he’s found a link between Luis’s death and de Marco. It will be safer for you and your mother to be out of the way before David rallies his pride members.
A vision of Luis’s mangled body rose before my unwilling eyes, and I shuddered at the thought of what the entire pride could do to a person, immortal or not. I agree with the sentiment, but are we going to be able to get to Mom without any help?
We won’t know unless we try, he said with what I had to admit was wisdom.
Before I could do so much as offer up a prayer to the god and goddess, Ben banged the huge hanged-man door knocker, the sound of it reverberating through the night, a deep, mournful sound that was counterpointed by the livelier noise of the parade as it progressed up the hill.
The door opened quickly. Ben tensed, then relaxed when he saw who answered the knock.
“Hello, Ulfur. This is Benedikt Czerny, my . . . er . . . Dark One. Ben, this is Ulfur, the lich who took the Vikingahärta. We’d like to see Alphonse de Marco.”
Ulfur’s lips formed a thin line, his eyes going flat. “He isn’t here.”
“That makes things easier,” I told Ben.
“Perhaps,” was all he said.
I trained a razor-edged gaze on Ulfur. “Since your boss isn’t present, I’d like my mother, if you don’t mind.”
Ulfur blinked at me in a way that expressed utter confusion. “Your mother?”
“Miranda Ghetti. She’s being kept here, isn’t she?”
His face went completely blank.
“Ulfur?”
He just stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes.
What just happened? I asked Ben.
I think that’s confirmation that your mother is here, and not somewhere else.
Oh, you mean he can’t lie the way you can’t lie to me?
Not quite the same thing, but probably it’s along the same line. Do you know his surname?
Um. I searched my memory. Hallursson, I think. Why?
“Ulfur Hallursson,” Ben said in a deep, intimidating voice, putting his hand on Ulfur’s head, as Ulfur’s eyes grew big. “You will tell us what we want to know. Where is the witch named Miranda?”
What on earth are you doing? Magicking him?
Kind of. I’m laying a compulsion on him.
You can do that?
Only with certain types of beings. Liches, luckily, are one of those who are susceptible.
Ulfur opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, then awkwardly pointed behind him, toward the staircase.
“That’s all I need to know,” I said, pulling out the Vikingahärta and holding it in my hand as I pushed past him into the hall. “There may be a demon around, Ben. There was earlier, but the Vikings sent him back to Abaddon.”