Among the Shoals Forever (Haunted)

Among the Shoals Forever

An Excerpt from  

Among the Shoals Forever (A Deadly Curiosities Adventure) 

By Gail Z. Martin 

"Even for Charleston, it's too many damn ghosts to ignore." Sorren, my patron and mentor, leaned back in his chair.  

"We're in one of the most haunted cities in the New World," Uncle Evann replied. "What's a few more 'haints' when we've got so many?" He shrugged. "I never reckoned ghosts were really any of our business." 

Sorren gave Uncle Evann a look that managed to convey both exasperation and affection. "They become our business when they're bound here by dark magic," Sorren said. He swirled the red liquid in his goblet, liquid I knew for certain was blood. The glow from the fireplace added color to Sorren's pale complexion, but could never warm his skin. He might have let out a long sigh, if he still needed to breathe. Instead, he looked from Uncle Evann to me. 

"And it becomes Dante's business when pirates are involved," he said with a hint of a smile that just slightly exposed the tips of his elongated eye teeth. 

He had me at 'pirates.' "Yeah," I said with a glance at Coltt, my partner in crime. "Whatever it is, count us in." 

Sorren was the silent partner behind the curio shop in Charleston run by my Uncle Evann. Three years ago, when Coltt and I had been the only survivors of a pirate raid on our small fishing village, we'd taken our stolen ship and fled to Charleston, hoping Uncle Evann could give us sanctuary. We'd killed the pirates who had murdered our families, and had a haunted necklace to show for it, one that I knew for a fact was evil. I thought Uncle Evann would know what to do with it.  

As it turned out, Uncle Evann's shop, Trifles and Folly, was more than it appeared. Sorren was one of a small, secret group of mortals and immortals pledged to keeping dangerous magical objects out of the hands of those who might misuse them. Sorren and Evann kept an ear open whenever objects with unusual pasts came up at auction, or were part of an estate being distributed. One way or another, Sorren made it his business to take those objects out of circulation. Evann handled the legal acquisitions. Coltt and I now took care of the rest. 

Sorren stretched out his long legs, and watched the fire burn as he spoke. "Felicity Reynolds Barre disappeared on a voyage from Bermuda to Boston almost a year ago." 

I frowned. "Sloan Barre's daughter?" Sloan Hampton Barre was the scion of an old Boston family with numerous business ties in every port city of the seaboard, including Charleston. 

Sorren nodded. "The same. It appears her ship was overtaken by pirates. There were no survivors found, nor bodies recovered. That would suggest that the passengers were either killed and thrown overboard-" 

"Or taken to sell in the brothels and sugar cane plantations of the Indies," I finished, distaste clear in my tone. 

"Precisely," Sorren replied. "Normally, I'd say there was nothing we could do except offer a prayer for the young woman's soul. But it appears that Miss Barre was exceptional beyond just her family connections. She was given an antique cameo brooch by a young man named Islwyn Lawry, a brooch that her family believed had occult power. Lawry, it seems, convinced her that it had the power to protect the wearer, and Miss Barre never took it off." 

My expression darkened. "Was Islwyn Lawry any relation to Galoshin Lawry, the gent with the fondness for black magic we went after a while back?" 

Sorren chuckled. "Islwyn is Galoshin's son, but he had a big row with his father several years ago, and by all accounts, didn't approve of his father's schemes or the way he used his power. Islwyn gave the cameo to Felicity when she set sail to return to Charleston, as a token of his love. It appears they had made plans to marry when she returned to Bermuda." 

"But she never did," I murmured. "So the cameo wasn't as powerful as Islwyn hoped." 

Sorren frowned. "Or perhaps it didn't work in quite the way he expected. Barre made a special trip to Charleston, and he came to Evann several nights ago, referred by a trusted mutual friend. Need I say that Trifles and Folly is not among his usually frequented establishments? The good man believes he is being haunted by his daughter's ghost. She comes to him in his dreams, wearing the cameo around her neck, begging for something, but she doesn't speak." 

"Grief makes people see strange things, even in a city as haunted as Charleston," I replied.  

"If Barre were the only one to see the girl's apparition, I might agree," Sorren replied. "But there have been reports up and down the Battery of the same ghost, a young woman in a blue gown with upswept hair and a fine cameo at her throat." 

I crossed my arms. "I'm not sure what Barre expects us to do about it. If the cameo were cursed, it's probably at the bottom of the ocean by now. Unless it's shown up in Uncle Evann's shop." 

Uncle Evann shook his head. "I've had no cameos brought in for quite some time," he replied. No matter how vast the store's inventory, Uncle Evann knew every piece. The storefront was crowded with antiques and curios from around the world, while in the back rooms, Evann and Sorren dealt with the dark magic items that found their way-legally or not-into Evann's possession. Some of those dark items were destroyed, while Sorren passed others along to his network of secret operatives for safekeeping. Although the parlor was warm from the fire, I shivered. I'd handled several of those dark items myself, and I knew their power. One damned necklace had already tried to kill me; I had to admit I was skeptical of searching for another. 

"If she's showing up as a ghost, that makes it pretty clear what happened to her," Coltt said. "But the cameo is probably off the coast of Bermuda. What can we do?" 

Sorren took another sip of blood. "I believe the cameo is here, in Charleston. And I believe both the appearance of Felicity's ghost and the unusual ghostly activity are linked." He leaned forward and met my gaze. "I have a strong feeling that we've got a necromancer here in the city, and I fear what we've seen is just the beginning."

Story © 2011 Gail Z. Martin Cover art © DreamSpinner Communications 2013. All rights reserved. May not be copied, uploaded or published without written permission