A Letter from the Living Side

I finally convinced Norene that it was time to head back home (and when exactly had I started thinking of a house on the dead side of town as my home?) after a long walk alongside the fence. I’d been told by many people that I was the most stubborn person they’d ever met—clearly, none of them had ever met Norene. To be fair, though, she wasn’t stubborn in the way you’d expect. Just selectively deaf and rather difficult to interrupt.

“Mistress Lukas! Mistress Rafferty!”

I turned stopped to turn around, giving the man who had spoken, the fae fellow with the over-large head who had brought us to see the draugr the last time a narrow-eyed look. “Who are you again?” I didn’t even try to be polite. I wanted to go home. I was tired. I was hungry. I just wanted to—no, I most definitely did not want to eat brains. Where had that thought come from? Fine, I’d been made a zombie, but I’d chosen the vegan lifestyle for a reason, and I wouldn’t let my new undead status change that.

“Jowan, Mistress Lucas, messenger for Master Stenberg,” the fae replied, seemingly unfazed by my bad temper. Considering who he worked for, I supposed that wasn’t terribly surprising.

“Right. What do you want, then?”

“Ooh, is it time to visit the draugr again?” Norene asked, letting out a delighted laugh. “He’s so interesting!”

Interesting. Well, that was one way to put it.

“Yes, Master Stenberg has requested a meeting with Mistress Lucas. You are, of course, invited along as well.” He gave Norene a smile that was probably meant to be charming, but only came across as a little creepy.

Maybe I was being unfair. But I was feeling bad-tempered at the moment, and it was far easier to take it out on the draugr’s messenger than Norene. She would make me feel guilty, and that was worse. Still, when I spoke again, my tone slipped into one of tired resignation. “What does he want this time?”

“I am only a messenger, of course, but I believe he has correspondence of some sort to pass along to you?”

My bad mood vanished in an instant. “From the living side?” I bounced a little on my toes, unconsciously mimicking Norene’s excited mannerism.

“As I said, I am only a messenger.” The apologetic look on his face appeared as false as the smile, but I no longer cared. What else could he mean by ‘correspondence’? “I am hardly privy to the details of Master Stenberg’s business dealings.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s go!” My tiredness gone and hunger shunted to one side in favour of my growing excitement, I seized Norene’s hand and dragged her in the direction of the draugr’s house, not bothering to check if the fae messenger followed.

Finally, I was getting somewhere. I could only hope.

Banshee Standoff

As Jowan’s friends—associates? Employees? Indentured servants?—set to work on the pipes in the kitchen, I held out a hand to the spriggan. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

The spriggan swept into another of his melodramatic bows, then seized my hand and kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine, Mistress Lucas.”

I yanked my hand free and wiped it off on the back of my shirt with a grimace. “Right. I’ll just—” I pointed vaguely towards the front of the house. “Go…see how Norene’s doing…” I hurried away before he could do anything else weird and antiquated. Pleasure had probably been too strong a word. Then again, at least he didn’t smell roadkill left out in the sun for several days, so that was something.

When I stepped back outside, I almost turned right around again—not because what I saw was frightening, although that was one possible descriptor, but because I thought a loud burst of laughter wouldn’t be much appreciated by the audience. Maeve and her banshee henchmen looked as grumpy as they had when I’d left; Norene looked almost as annoyed. Sarai looked as if she’d had far more practice holding back laughter than I had.

It was Meredith, however, who held everyone’s attention. She was in the middle of what seemed like a lengthy lecture with the sort of passion one could only expect from a child whose age could still be counted on a single person’s hands.

“—and she doesn’t have to listen to you anymore because she has her own house, and there’s no rule that says she has to live with you!” Meredith crossed her arms and scowled fiercely. She hadn’t said ‘so there’, but she might as well have. “Plus, she’s big enough to make her own decisions, so you should just go away.”

“Would someone please remove this zombie child and take her back wherever she came from?” Maeve demanded with chilly courtesy.

“I’m not going anywhere. Norene said I could come visit.”

“Norene?” At this point, I was almost surprised Maeve’s word didn’t come out of her mouth in the shape of perfectly formed ice sculptures.

“What?” Norene shrugged. “She’s right.”

“That’s beside the point!” Maeve huffed. “It’s long past time you returned to the compound with your sisters. If you have any belongings in this hovel—” She broke off to give the house a skeptical look. “—fetch them now, then we’ll escort you back home.”

Norene didn’t even make a show of considering Maeve’s demands. “No. I am home.”

Maeve sputtered.

“Your defiance is irrelevant,” one of the other banshees said.

“Not really,” Sarai interjected, speaking for the first time. “Merry had it right. The Immortals only care that people stay on the proper side of the fence. You can demand all you want, but the banshee council doesn’t actually have any power to enforce anything outside the walls of the compound.”

“This is none of your business, vampire!” Maeve snapped.

I winced; Meredith grinned.

“Estrie.” Sarai smiled, revealing fangs. “And I misspoke earlier. There is one other thing the Immortals care about. Keeping peace on the streets. And that is my business. So unless you’d like to continue making a scene…” She trailed off, staring pointedly down the road away from Norene’s house.

Maeve went red in the face. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Fine.” She glared at Norene. “This isn’t over.” Then she stomped away down the street. Her two henchmen scurried after her.

Welcome Guests and…Others

By the time we got back to Norene’s—and my—house, I was just about ready to scream into a pillow. Who knew two people could talk so much about nothing at all? Well, in Meredith’s case, it wasn’t that much of a surprise, but Norene was, in theory, an adult. Come to think of it, though, I actually had no idea how old she was. She looked mid-twenties, but what did I really know about her? I’d known her less than a week.

I’d known her less than a week, and I’d already moved in with her. If the situation were any different, I’d be convinced I’d lost my mind. Then again, the caste mark on my face proved I was a zombie, so maybe I had.

“Hey, why are there so many people outside your house?” Meredith pointed as we drew up to the house

I blinked. “Wow.”

There were at least ten people loitering by the front door in what looked like tense silence. I recognised only three of the faces. One was the spriggan we’d met just this morning, and he appeared to be accompanied by five or so short-lived dead types. Another was Norene’s sister Maeve, flanked by a pair of incredibly grumpy looking banshees. The third was Sarai; she was the only one who didn’t seem to have come with an entourage.

“Hello—” Norene began.

It was Maeve who interrupted her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Norene frowned. “Walking?”

Meredith snickered; Maeve glared at her.

“You’ve been sharing our secrets,” the banshee on Maeve’s left accused. “With one of the dead.”

A smirk played at the edges of Sarai’s mouth. “You say that as if you’re not surrounded by the dead.”

Maeve scowled in Sarai’s direction. “We have rules. You’ve been allowed to run about on your own for long enough, Norene. You’ll be coming home with us now.”

“And what are you going to do if she doesn’t want to go?” I crossed my arms, staring the banshees down.

“Yeah!” Meredith mimicked my posture. “Norene doesn’t live with you anymore because you’re mean!”

Sarai chuckled; she seemed to be the only one enjoying this standoff. “You tell them, Merry.”

“Norene.” Maeve chose to ignore the rest of us. “We’re going. Now.”

Norene took a sideways step closer to Meredith and I. “But I don’t want to go.”

“You’ve had your rebellion, you’ve made your point.” Maeve looked over her shoulder at the run-down house. “You can’t honestly want to stay in this dump when you could be in the compound with running water and heating.”

“Actually—” the spriggan interjected.

Maeve held up an imperious hand. “No one asked you.”

“I was just going to say there’ll be running water and electricity for this house by the end of the week,” the spriggan informed her.

“What?” Maeve turned her full attention on the spriggan. “There’s no way she has the resources for that.”

The spriggan shrugged. “I wasn’t privy to the details of the deal that was struck with Master Stenberg.”

Maeve gritted her teeth. “Norene, you need to come home to your sisters before you do anything else you regret.”

“Are there any boy banshees?” Meredith whispered, leaning towards Norene.

I swallowed a laugh, then turned to the spriggan. “Jowan, wasn’t it? Why don’t we step inside to discuss the details of the work to be done.”

He bowed to me with a flourish. “After you.”

The Renegade Banshee

I took a deep breath before we entered the draugar’s house. Yes, it smelled as bad as I remembered. I looked over at Norene to see how she was faring.

She sniffed experimentally. “That is quite strong. But not as bad as I was expecting.”

I stared at her.

“I know, I know, you said not to say anything about the smell.”

That wasn’t why I was staring, but explaining that to Norene would only prolong the discussion of smell.

“This way, please.” The spriggan gestured at a half-open door. “Master Stenberg does not like to be kept waiting.”

The less than complimentary response I muttered was drowned by Norene’s friendlier one: “Yeah, waiting’s a drag.” Either she was entirely oblivious to the spriggan’s increasingly nervous manner, or she chose to ignore it by leading the way into the room.

I was beginning to feel rather nervous as well. It was one thing to come here with Sarai’s confidence. Norene’s confidence was nowhere near as reassuring.

“The zombie who refuses to eat and the renegade banshee,” the draugar announced as we approached. “Took your time, didn’t you, Jowan?”

The spriggan bowed with a stiff flourish. “Many apologies, Master.”

“Leave us.”

The spriggan was out the door even before Norene had a chance to say goodbye.

“You wanted to see us?” Norene asked, her expression of open, innocent curiosity.

“Please, sit.” The draugar gestured at the chairs, which were as disgusting as the last time I’d been here.

I sat gingerly in one of the chairs and breathed very shallowly. It didn’t help much. “Did you get any response to my letter?” I hoped being direct would serve me as well as it had last time, and keep the encounter short. If it dragged on too long, I was a little worried I might pass out from lack of oxygen.

The draugar raised one dismissive hand, wafting more of his stench in my direction. “Far too early for that.” He turned to Norene “I have been waiting to meet you for a long time.”

The pit in my stomach got heavier. This smelled entirely too much like political maneuvering.

“Why?” Norene asked. “You could have just asked, like you did now. I always like to meet new people.”

“Astute observation.” He leaned forward, and I struggled not to gag. “You are as interesting as they say.”

The second statement was almost certainly true. I suspected, however, that Norene’s question had much more to do with her oblivious innocence rather than any astuteness.

Norene blinked at the draugar. “They?”

“You have quite the reputation. The renegade banshee who lives with the short-lived dead.” The draugar smiled, revealing rotting gums and teeth that were black where they weren’t missing. “You are a frequent topic of conversation among me and my associates.”

Oh, this could in no way be considered good. I wondered if there was any polite way to flee the house, but figured even if there was, Norene wouldn’t follow.

A Zombie, a Banshee, and a Spriggan Go to a Business Meeting…

“So, do draugr smell as bad as everyone says?” Norene asked, skipping alongside the spriggan like a child who’d just been granted permission to get whatever she wanted from a sweetshop.

I trailed behind them, not feeling nearly as cheerful. “Don’t comment on the smell.”

Norene turned to look back at me. “Why not? I’ve heard all kinds of things about how draugr smell.”

I shrugged. Norene might be better company than Sarai (or, at least, friendlier), but Sarai had seemed to actually know what she was doing. Norene…well. She may know a thing or two about banshee politics, but I was fairly certain street smarts were not something she used much.

“I think you’ll find that Mistress Lucas speaks with surprising insight for someone so new to the area.” The spriggan half-turned to give a little bow in my direction. “Body odour is not something Master Stenberg takes kindly to discussing.”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Norene fell back to walk beside me, her skipping mellowing into a more sedate walk. “Does that mean you’ve met the draugar? Already? Why didn’t you tell me? What was he like? How did you meet him? Was it—”

“Norene…”

She ducked her head. “Sorry, I got carried away again.”

“Which question did you want to ask me first?”

The bounce returned to the banshee’s step. “How did you get to meet him? They say he only meets with influential people, and zombies, well…”

“Nobody likes zombies,” I finished for her. “Yeah, I’ve gotten that impression. An estrie called Sarai took me to meet him. She helped me make a deal with him to get something across to the living side.”

“Why would you need to get something over there? They have everything we have, plus a lot we don’t.” Norene tilted her head to the side. “Well, except for dead things. But that’s the whole point of the living side/dead side divide, so…”

“I sent over a research proposal that would allow me to get some of those things they don’t have here.”

“O-oh, that makes sense. Did it work?”

“I don’t know yet.” I directed my next comment at the spriggan. “Perhaps I’m about to find out?”

“Patience, Mistress Lucas,” the spriggan replied. “My master prefers to conduct his business personally, not through intermediaries.”

“Which is why he sent you to get me, I suppose,” I retorted. After the encounter with the lich and spending so much time waiting in line only to leave empty-handed, I was feeling a bit waspish.

“Mister Stenberg conducts his business how he chooses, regardless of what you think of him,” the spriggan replied, his serenity entirely uncompromised by my attitude.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Don’t Dare Defy the Draugr

“Margot Lucas!”

I didn’t recognise the voice, and a quick glance around the courtyard of the Distribution Office didn’t reveal anyone who looked to be trying to get my attention. I turned to Norene. “Did you hear someone call my name? I didn’t just imagine that, did I?”

Norene was looking about, a curious expression on her face. “Oh, I heard it, but that doesn’t rule out us both having imagined it.”

I groaned. “I miss the living side. We had actual rules about using magic there.”

“Really?” Norene turned back to face me. “Like what?”

“I’ll tell you about it later.” I rubbed at my forehead. I was beginning to develop a headache. That wasn’t surprising in and of itself; what was surprising was that I hadn’t had one until now. Maybe it was a zombie thing. Or maybe it was just a being-dead-thing.

“Boo!”

“Aah!” I jumped, then whirled around to find myself face to face with a very large head. “Aah!”

“Oh, hey,” Norene greeted the creature, turning around to face him far more calmly than I had. “You’re a spriggan, aren’t you? I’ve never met a spriggan before.”

The large-headed man bowed, making several flourishing gestures with his hands. “And a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Mistress Rafferty.”

I leaned over to whisper in Norene’s ear. “What’s a spriggan?”

“Among other things, we have perfectly good hearing,” the spriggan replied.

I turned to face him hastily, half expecting to feel my face heat from embarrassment. But flushing would have required blood actually moving through my veins. So there were some benefits to being a zombie after all.

“But to answer your question, we are a sort of fae. Much like the banshees, our kind was exiled here because the other fae don’t like us much. I am called Jowan.” He bowed again, with just as many flourishes, this time in my direction.

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured. A type of fae that other fae didn’t like? That couldn’t mean anything good. The fae on the living side were well known for being tricksters with little regard for the cares and interests of others, including their own kind. How much worse would spriggans have to be to be rejected by the other fae creatures?

“Now, down to business.” The spriggan rubbed his small hands together. It really was disconcerting to look at a creature with a head so much larger than the rest of his body. “My employer has requested a meeting with you, Mistress Lucas, and you, Mistress Rafferty.”

“Does your employer have a name?” I figured the only sensible approach was one with plenty of caution.

At this, the spriggan looked mildly annoyed. “The draugr, Vidar Stenberg, of course. And your presence is requested immediately.”

My eyebrows went up at that. “And if we’d prefer to be somewhere else?”

A smile I could only describe as sinister crossed the spriggan’s face, but Norene interrupted before he could say anything. “Why would we want to be somewhere else? I’ve heard of Vidar, but he doesn’t just meet with anyone. Should be exciting!”

“Right…” I could feel my headache getting worse.