Read Online Into the Woods by Kim Harrison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kim Harrison
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for. If I had any to spare, that is.
“This is Cincinnati?” he said softly, gaze darting from one building to the next.
“Yes,” I said, then jerked my hand out of Robbie’s when he gave me a squeeze to be quiet. “What?” I hissed at him. “You think I should lie? He just wants to know where he is.”
The man coughed, cutting my brother’s anger short. “I expect I’m most sorry,” he said, taking one hand off the pole. “I’ve no need for breathing but to speak, and to make a body accept that is a powerful trial.”
Surprised, I simply waited while he took a slow, controlled breath.
“I’m Pierce,” he said, his accent shifting to a more formal sound. “I have no doubt that you’re not my final verdict, but are in truth . . .” He glanced at the driver. Lips hardly moving, he mouthed, “You’re a practitioner of the arts. A master witch, sir.”
The man wasn’t breathing. I was watching him closely, and the man wasn’t breathing. “Robbie,” I said urgently, tugging on his arm. “He’s dead. He’s a ghost.”
My brother made a nervous guffaw, crossing his legs to help keep his body heat with him. We were right over the heater, but it was still cold. “That’s what you were trying to do, wasn’t it, Firefly?” he said.
“Yes, but he’s so real!” I said, hushed. “I didn’t expect anything but a whisper or a feeling. Not a naked man in the snow. And certainly not him!”
Pierce flushed. His eyes met mine, and I bit back my next words, stunned by the depth of his bewilderment. The bus shifted forward as the driver braked to pick someone up, and he almost fell out of his seat, grabbing the pole with white hands to save himself.
“You drew me from purgatory,” he said, confusion pouring from him even as he warily watched the people file on and find their seats. His face went panicked, and then he swallowed, forcing his emotions down. “I suspected I was going to hell. I suspected my penance for my failure was concluded, and I was going to hell. I’ll allow it looks like hell at first observance, though not broken and lacking a smell of burnt amber.” He looked out the window. “No horses,” he said softly, then his eyebrows rose inquiringly. “And you bricked over the canal, nasty swill hole it was. Are the engines powered then by steam?”
Beside me, Robbie grinned. “He sure uses a lot of words to say anything.”
“Shut up,” I muttered. I thought he was elegant.
“This isn’t hell,” Pierce said, and, as if exhausted, he dropped his head to show me the top of his loose black curls. His relief made my stomach clench and burn.
I looked away, uncomfortable. Thoughts of my deal with Robbie came back. I didn’t know if he would think this was a success or not. I did bring a ghost back, but it wasn’t Dad. And without Dad saying yes to the I.S., Robbie would probably take it as a no. Worried, I looked up at Robbie and said, “I did the spell right.”
My brother shifted, as if preparing for an argument. My eyebrows pulled together, and I glared at him. “I don’t care if it summoned the wrong ghost, I did the freaking spell right!”
Pierce looked positively terrified as he alternated his attention between us and the new people calmly getting on and finding their seats. I was guessing it wasn’t the volume of my voice, but what I was saying. Being a witch in public was a big no-no that could get you killed before nineteen sixty-six, and he had clearly died before then.
Robbie frowned in annoyance. “The deal was you’d summon Dad,” he said, and I gritted my teeth.
“The deal was I would do the spell right, and if I didn’t, I would come out to Portland with you. Well, look,” I said, pointing. “There’s a ghost. You just try to tell me he isn’t there.”
“All right, all right,” Robbie said, slouching. “You stirred the spell properly, but we still don’t know what Dad would want, so I’m not going to sign that paper.”
“You son of
“This is Cincinnati?” he said softly, gaze darting from one building to the next.
“Yes,” I said, then jerked my hand out of Robbie’s when he gave me a squeeze to be quiet. “What?” I hissed at him. “You think I should lie? He just wants to know where he is.”
The man coughed, cutting my brother’s anger short. “I expect I’m most sorry,” he said, taking one hand off the pole. “I’ve no need for breathing but to speak, and to make a body accept that is a powerful trial.”
Surprised, I simply waited while he took a slow, controlled breath.
“I’m Pierce,” he said, his accent shifting to a more formal sound. “I have no doubt that you’re not my final verdict, but are in truth . . .” He glanced at the driver. Lips hardly moving, he mouthed, “You’re a practitioner of the arts. A master witch, sir.”
The man wasn’t breathing. I was watching him closely, and the man wasn’t breathing. “Robbie,” I said urgently, tugging on his arm. “He’s dead. He’s a ghost.”
My brother made a nervous guffaw, crossing his legs to help keep his body heat with him. We were right over the heater, but it was still cold. “That’s what you were trying to do, wasn’t it, Firefly?” he said.
“Yes, but he’s so real!” I said, hushed. “I didn’t expect anything but a whisper or a feeling. Not a naked man in the snow. And certainly not him!”
Pierce flushed. His eyes met mine, and I bit back my next words, stunned by the depth of his bewilderment. The bus shifted forward as the driver braked to pick someone up, and he almost fell out of his seat, grabbing the pole with white hands to save himself.
“You drew me from purgatory,” he said, confusion pouring from him even as he warily watched the people file on and find their seats. His face went panicked, and then he swallowed, forcing his emotions down. “I suspected I was going to hell. I suspected my penance for my failure was concluded, and I was going to hell. I’ll allow it looks like hell at first observance, though not broken and lacking a smell of burnt amber.” He looked out the window. “No horses,” he said softly, then his eyebrows rose inquiringly. “And you bricked over the canal, nasty swill hole it was. Are the engines powered then by steam?”
Beside me, Robbie grinned. “He sure uses a lot of words to say anything.”
“Shut up,” I muttered. I thought he was elegant.
“This isn’t hell,” Pierce said, and, as if exhausted, he dropped his head to show me the top of his loose black curls. His relief made my stomach clench and burn.
I looked away, uncomfortable. Thoughts of my deal with Robbie came back. I didn’t know if he would think this was a success or not. I did bring a ghost back, but it wasn’t Dad. And without Dad saying yes to the I.S., Robbie would probably take it as a no. Worried, I looked up at Robbie and said, “I did the spell right.”
My brother shifted, as if preparing for an argument. My eyebrows pulled together, and I glared at him. “I don’t care if it summoned the wrong ghost, I did the freaking spell right!”
Pierce looked positively terrified as he alternated his attention between us and the new people calmly getting on and finding their seats. I was guessing it wasn’t the volume of my voice, but what I was saying. Being a witch in public was a big no-no that could get you killed before nineteen sixty-six, and he had clearly died before then.
Robbie frowned in annoyance. “The deal was you’d summon Dad,” he said, and I gritted my teeth.
“The deal was I would do the spell right, and if I didn’t, I would come out to Portland with you. Well, look,” I said, pointing. “There’s a ghost. You just try to tell me he isn’t there.”
“All right, all right,” Robbie said, slouching. “You stirred the spell properly, but we still don’t know what Dad would want, so I’m not going to sign that paper.”
“You son of
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