But I was sure I didn’t have it in me to turn him away.
I’d been Fitz once.
“You think I can help him?” I asked.
Mort blew out a breath. “I think you have a shot. Better than me, anyway. Sure as hell better than those pricks on the Council. If you can get him to open up with you, I think it could go a long way.”
And if I couldn’t, it could go a long way, too. And I wasn’t in the best of shape.
But I had to try.
“Okay,” I said. “Have him show up with a couple of changes of clothes and as many books as he wants.”
“Thank you,” Mort said quietly.
I nodded. “How about you?” I asked him. “How’s your side of town?”
Mort shook his head. “Business is…booming, I suppose. I’ve spent the past couple of weeks sorting through crowds of newborn shades. The Eye of Balor killed a lot of people and left a much higher percentage of shades than natural deaths.”
I sighed. “I hadn’t thought about that one. But it makes sense. What’s happening?”
Mort shrugged. “They’re confused as hell. A lot of them don’t even have a proper grave yet. They have to go back to their corpses to get away from the sun. That doesn’t bode well for their sanity. I’ve been sending in tips to Lieutenant Stallings about where there are bodies that still haven’t been found, but…Jesus, Harry, the death rate in town has tripled or quadrupled at least.”
“Killings?” I asked.
“Some of them,” he said. “But a lot more are just people dying of things that could have been recovered from if the town hadn’t been blown to hell. Heart attacks, accidents, illnesses. I’ve got an old crystalradio, so I can get some of the news, but nobody has any real idea of what’s happening in the city. Until we get communications back up, everyone’s on their own.”
I sighed and rubbed at my head. “Halloween is going to be the spooky season for real this year.”
“Most likely,” he said, nodding. “Me and Fitz been doing our best, but there’s only two of us—and now it will just be me.”
“It’s not just you,” I said quietly. “We’re all in this train wreck together.”
Mort gave me a cynical tilt of his head. “You don’t get out of the castle much, do you?”
“Not for a few days,” I said.
“There are groups forming,” he said. “Some of them have been going after people they think are connected to the supernatural. Showing up at night. Harassing them. Tagging their apartments and homes.”
“Violence?” I asked.
“Not yet. But we’re getting there.”
I exhaled slowly.
I should probably start paying more attention to things outside of my routine. But the very thought sent quavers running through my belly that might have sent the shade of my breakfast spewing from my mouth.
When I looked up at Mort, he was watching me with a troubled expression.
Hell’s bells.
He wanted me to tell him what to do.
My breakfast struggled to manifest into the physical world. I didn’t want to do this. I wanted to stick to my routine. To grieve. To heal.
I just needed time.
Instead, I spoke. “Talk to Artemis Bock,” I said. “His bookstore is still a hub for our people. Ask him to start gathering information on what’s going on. Before you do that, head for the kitchen. The Ordo Lebes is there. They’ve coordinated on establishing protection for the community before. They’ll be some of the best folks to figure out what can be done now.” I nodded. “After that, I want you to keep doing what you do, and keep me informed. If things get really bad in the ghostlyway, maybe we can put together some kind of ritual to keep things under wraps.”
