Greywalker - Kat Richardson [122]
Will broke my silence. “Harper? Are you there?”
“Yes. My mind was wandering. Thanks, Will, that’s helpful.”
Will sounded grim. “Good, because I wanted to ask you a favor now.”
I had trepidations. “Sure. What do you need?”
“This fake provenance got me to thinking about some things at work, so I looked into them. And I need to talk to the police.”
“What sort of things?”
“I don’t want to go into it yet. I had the impression you would know who to talk to, though. Do you?”
I didn’t have to think about that. I gave him the number of a detective I knew at SPD—the most honest cop I had ever met.
“Thank you.”
“Hey. Call me later?”
“Sure.” He hung up, sounding distracted.
I wondered what Will had found to upset him, but had no time to explore the question. I gathered my stuff and headed to the Danzigers’; I wanted to talk to Mara before we met Carlos.
Mara and I were sitting in the living room about an hour later. Adjusting to the change in the Grey was not easy, and I had just made a hash of the same simple exercise of moving in and out at will.
Dizzy and frustrated, I pounded on the arm of the sofa. “Damn it! Why can’t I do it when I want to? I can fall in and out when I’m not thinking of it, but I can’t do it when I’m trying.”
“You’re still fighting.”
“It just looks so different. It feels different.”
“But it hasn’t really changed. It’s you that’s changed. When you don’t think of it, you’ve no difficulty. It’s when your mind is in between you and the Grey that you have troubles.”
“I can’t not think.”
Mara leaned forward and caught my eye. “You can stop fighting it. You must. We’ve been wrong about so much, but of this I am certain. You must accept what it is and that it’s part of you. When you’re fighting it, it’s like a snarled rope that tightens and knots up with every tug. Relax and the rope relaxes, too. I can see it happening.”
I frowned at her.
“I can see that knot in your chest if I try. It ties you to the Grey, and the harder you fight, the more taut it goes. When you simply let it be, it spreads out and you become more Grey.”
“I don’t want to be more Grey!”
She sighed. Shivering spears of honey gold light combed through her hair and lit the wall behind.“I am sorry, Harper. You haven’t that choice anymore. Accept what is and the rest will follow. Then this will all be easy—or at least easier. Coming and going, pushing and peeking—things we’ve not thought of, even—will be as automatic as walking or swimming.” She looked up at the beginning of sunset through the rain outside. “You are meant to be part of that world and you can only exercise the powers you have when you accept that.”
I turned away to look at the soggy sunset, rubbing my hands over my face and wiping off the heavy frown that had settled there. Tension and exhaustion bore on my shoulders. I leaned my cheek on the sofa back, watching the shafts of sunlight that broke through the clouds turn pink, while the vibrant yellows and whites of the house nexus glimmered like a fairy fence between. The low, bleak cloud cover looked like the storm-mist of the Grey.
I heard Mara get up and walk out of the room. I was too tired to follow her. The floorboards sang as she returned and stopped near me.
“It’s almost time to go. I made you something for tonight. I hope it will help.”
I looked up at her.
Mara held out a small leather bag on a long thong. It reminded me a bit of the thing I’d seen peeking over Dr. Skelleher’s collar.
“What is it?”
“It’s a charm against dark things. It should help push back the organ’s monstrousness a bit. Just a little thing, but can’t hurt. Put it round your neck.”
I shrugged and took it from her, dropping it over my head. The little bag plopped onto my sweater, right over the ache in my chest.
I gasped, feeling as if I’d suddenly breathed in clean air after a night in a smoke-filled bar.
Mara grinned. “Any use?”
“Yes.”
“Brilliant. Tuck it away, though. I suspect your necromancer shan’t like the sight of