Page 1 of A Lost Light

Chapter 1

Andy

Igot up to re-shelve the book I had been skimming, and to stretch my back and neck. I had spent far too long hunched over the dusty old book looking for insight and answers. Elijah and Bis worked nearby, the incorporeal ghost and the talking rodent a surprisingly efficient partnership. Bis had been learning to write with a small pencil nub, and he took notes and flipped pages with his dexterous little hands, while Elijah deciphered text and put it all together to guide their research.

Elijah was an angel, but when he was alive, he wasn’t particularly high ranking among his choir. He had bought into their bullshit most of his life. He had barely begun to question certain things about his people before he was killed and enslaved by evil Lovells. So even though we had an angel on our side… there was still a lot of research to be done. If we were going to storm the Angelic realm and obtain their magical relic, then we needed to know all the ins and outs of their pompous society—and any loopholes in their fictional rhetoric that might save our lives.

I had somehow managed to talk them into loaning me the nullifier on behalf of the SA before. But I was pretty certain I wouldn't be that lucky again. And stealing from angels was bound to be… problematic, to say the least.

Ridiculous blowhards though they might be, theywerepowerful—both magically and physically. And they would have the advantage of being in their own realm, while we'd be working with a disadvantage when it came to drawing on our magic. Although… this pocket world was attached to the angelic realm, so I had to wonder if maybe we were slowly becoming more attuned to angelic magic. I supposed we'd find out, one way or another.

“Momma? Here's the notes.”

I looked down to find Bis standing on his hind legs on the desk, holding out a piece of notebook paper that was filled with tiny, cramped writing. Hearing his little voice was still a wonder to me. And I was still adjusting to him calling me hismother. The weirdo. But I had always known Bis was more than just a pet. He had always seemed more intelligent than any rodent should be, and we had long communicated, in our lopsided way, as if he was a person. Because he absolutely was.

I took the paper, then scooped him up to nuzzle my nose against his furry cheek. “You're amazing,” I mumbled into his fur.

He squirmed and let out a weird noise that passed for rodent laughter as his little paws pushed at my face. “Momma.You're rumpling my fur!”

I puffed air into the fur on his side, careful to avoid the hedgehog spikes, then finally relented and placed him on my shoulder. Elijah drifted over, a soft ghostly chuckle escaping him. “You two are adorable.” He held out his see-through hand as if he was going to pat Bis on the head. “And you've been very helpful, Bis. Thank you.”

Bis shivered when the ghost's fingers grazed over his head, and Elijah withdrew before his hand could passthroughour little friend. The others had told me that they didn't find Elijah's touch pleasant, the way I did. To them it was just cold and a bit creepy.

Apparently, I just responded differently to dead and creepy. That seemed on-brand for me.

“I'm happy to help you, Elijah,” Bis assured the ghost. “I know what it's like to not be able to do all the things that other people can do.” Like talk. Or run fast enough to keep up with our long-legged strides. Poor Bis. Human intelligence, caught in a diminutive form that most would have overlooked and kept caged.

And poor Elijah, too.

The ghost who drifted at my side looked more person-like than he used to, thanks to the extra bit of necromancer mojo Dyre had put into his anchoring charm, when we destroyed the bestiary and made Elijah a new home. And he could occasionally muster up enough energy to go poltergeist and rattle solid objects. But he was still a ghost. He couldn't touch. Couldn't feel. Couldn’t turn the pages of the books he wanted to read, or touch the face of the person he loved.

It had to be so… lonely didn't seem to really encapsulate it all. Empty? Cold?

Ambrose popped in briefly to tell me that lunch was ready and the others were gathering downstairs to eat, before pressing a kiss to my cheek and disappearing again. I scooped up the book I was currently reading and headed out of the library and down the hall toward the kitchen.

“There has to be a way,” I muttered, lost in thought as I crossed the threshold into the big, warm kitchen with my rodent son on my shoulder and an angelic ghost trailing behind me.

“A way to do what?” Niamh asked with an arched brow. “Or were you just talking to yourself again, like always?”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “I don't talk to myself.”

Zhong paused on his way to the table to ruffle my hair and give me a fond look. “Only a little bit, master. But it's cute.”

I rolled my eyes as he set a basket of bread in the center of the big antique dining table. “I was just thinking out loud,” I muttered.

I slid into a chair next to Hasumi, and the water weaver turned to regard me with their mesmerizing turquoise gaze. “It was more than just a passing fancy,” they said evenly. “There is sadness and determination suffusing your aura. Tell us what troubles you, Oleander.”

I shrugged, well used to being called out for my feelings by now. “I was just thinking that there has to be a way to get Elijah a body.”

The noises and bits of chatter from around the room died out as I got everyone's undivided attention. I took a roll out of the basket and plopped it on my plate. “What? He's one of us. He's the entirereasonyou are all free. If it wasn't for Elijah guiding me to that box of old junk, then popping out and demanding that I right my family's wrongs, you would all still be trapped in that damned bestiary. And yet he can't even read a freaking book without someone to turn the pages.”

I set the book I had carried with me down on the table with a little more force than I intended, and the thump sounded loud in the silence that had fallen around me.

“Andy,” Elijah said, his hollow voice full of emotion, even though it sounded so inhuman. “I'm touched. But as I told you when you created this new anchor charm for me,” he said, reaching out a ghostly finger to indicate the charm that hung at my throat, “my body was destroyed. It is long since gone. Even ifyou were able to create some miracle and restore life to one who had passed on… I have no vessel to return to.”

“It still sucks,” I groused, adding a serving of hearty stew to my bowl, prompting everyone else to silently get on with eating. “It seems like if I can accidentally make a whole-assed pocket world in the middle of nothing, I could find a way to at least make yousolid, or something.”

His cool touch trailed over and through my shoulder—the one not occupied by Bis. “You've given me more of life than I ever dreamed could be possible again. Please don't feel sad on my behalf.”

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