“Okay. That’s impressive,” says Candy.
“This is the right place. I remember Hijruun describing it to Azazel.”
The tower is around fifty feet high and capped with a vaulted roof that gently rises and falls, like the building is breathing. The main structure is made entirely from gravestones that have been cut to fit together like a massive jigsaw puzzle. The courtyard area is surrounded by high curtains of animal bones.
“You could have told me about that too,” says Candy.
“If you don’t like that you’re not going to like the doorbell.”
Candy looks and shakes her head. “I’m definitely not touching it.”
“Always leaving me with the dirty work.”
“You are the dirty work.”
A large pair of pink, healthy-looking lungs hangs on a hook near the door. I squeeze them and a horn blares somewhere inside the tower.
Candy rubs her nose.
“That’s gross. You’re gross.”
“That’s half the reason you like me.”
“True. You really do take me to the most glamorous places.”
“You better hope he doesn’t ask us in for tea and crumpets. You don’t want to know what those are like.”
“Still gross.”
I give the lungs another squeeze, but no one comes down. When I try the knob on the gravestone door it swings open.
There’s a long spiral staircase. Every few feet, candles burn within holders made from ribs and vertebrae. Books and papers are scattered on the stairs. A small table by the door is on its side.
I look at Candy.
“Do you have your knife?”
“Always.”
“Keep it ready.”
She takes it out of her jacket.
“No one’s home?”
“I don’t think so. But they left in a hurry.”
“Do you think the killers got here ahead of us?”
“I doubt it. Those faction pricks would have burned the tower as a warning to everyone else.”
“What are we going to do now?” says Candy.
I think for a minute.
“Fuck. I’m going to have to do some tracking hoodoo.”
“Are you strong enough for that?”