I rang the intercom and, after a delay, the curator let us in. "You mind if I don't come up?" she asked. "As long as I'm stuck here, I've got some paperwork to get through. Just buzz the intercom when you leave and I'll lock up. OK?"

Her relaxed attitude surprised me, until I noticed both Carlos and Mara looking very hard at her. More than one tricky bastard in this lot.

Once she was gone, we started up the stairs. At the top, I stopped and swayed, momentarily nauseated. Mara supported my elbow. Carlos brushed past both of us and opened the parlor door.

A rush of horrors poured out of the room. I jerked away before I realized I had seen more than felt them. My heart raced and I felt ice on my spine, but I could stand it.

Mara nodded at me and led the way into the parlor. Carlos was a few feet in front of the organ, staring at it. He turned his head to glance at us. An ugly smile oozed across his face.

"Amazing."

"Disgusting is more like," Mara replied. She pushed me into a chair as far from the organ as possible. "Let's get on with it."

Carlos shrugged his eyebrows and turned back to face the organ. Mara stepped back a pace and made a few sparkling signs in the air behind him. They rained a curtain of mist and white pickets. I could hear Carlos muttering, and a thin, sour odor threaded through the room. Mara walked in an arc behind him, creating a shimmering semicircle stretching from wall to wall and cutting off the pulsing miasma of the organ's aurora of light, shadow, reek, and noise.

Nightmare faces and boiling Grey began to heave into a panorama around the instrument. I saw Sergeyev's face appear for a moment. His mouth opened in a silent scream and then was sucked backward into the organ. A kaleidoscope of other faces followed, shattered frag-ments of terror. I didn't recognize any of them. A weird, muted chorus of grim cries and muttering rang around Carlos. His shoulders heaved once in a while and I saw his hands flicker before him. Otherwise, he was still.

A gust of black and red light burst from the organ above the key-board. Carlos ducked, and it shattered on the circle of Mara's magic. Her shimmering sigils faded and the room was filled with a sudden howling and chittering. Carlos stepped forward and laid both his hands on the keyboard.

The organ shrieked in agony. Then came a roar, growing around the organ, pushing against Carlos like a bodiless wind. A fetid stink rose with the sound. I started up again, ready to bolt, the pulse of the Grey in my chest fluttering with my racketing heartbeat and twisting like a knife. Mara backpedaled and grabbed me by the shoulder. Her eyes were wide, and I thought she was on the verge of breaking and running herself. Her breath was loud.

Carlos raised his hands and slashed out to both sides. Silence. The Grey aura around the instrument faded, collapsing to its writhing red and black gorgon's corona again. He eased back until he had crossed the line Mara had made; then he turned and walked to us. His eyes were ablaze with a frightening excitement.

"Up," he ordered.

I got up, and he herded us to the door and stood on the threshold. "Now go," he said.

I started to turn, feeling exhausted and ill and wanting to leave.

Mara held on and remained facing him, a rock against his wave of influence. "No."

He raised an eyebrow, and the force of his demand hovered like a black swarm.

Mara glared at Carlos. "You can't push me as easily as that, Carlos. I'll not let you have it."

"You can't stop me."

"Common sense will stop you. It is necromantic, isn't it?"

His bladed half grin came back. "Why else would I want it?"

Chapter 29

Standing in the hall, Mara glimmered as she opposed Carlos. "If you try to take it, you'll uncork the bottle and let the genie out. Even you couldn't put the cork back in fast enough. You saw the size of the power nexus it's feeding on. It's stuffed full of energies just wild to escape. You can't use it here, so you'd have to move it. But you can't move it without unleashing the energy stored in it. It's too ripe."

He glowered and gleamed black. Something shimmered between them. I was too drained to try to see it or understand.

Mara continued. "I imagine there's only one person who can control the energy cascade that will start the moment it's disturbed. Am I right?"

Carlos stilled.

Her voice glistened and resonated, throbbing through my bones. "Answer me!"

He bared his teeth and snarled at her. His immaterial black cloak billowed ire. "Don't try to command me, witch."

"Don't be stupid!" she snapped back. "Do you want to destroy the whole fabric of energy here? That would be worse for creatures like you than for me, and I don't care to contemplate how bad I'd have it."

Carlos snarled one last time and took a step back from her, his blackness subsiding. He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the organ.

He growled. "You're right. It's too dangerous. But we can't let it remain for someone else. We'll have to get rid of it."

Mara objected. "We don't have enough reserves to contain and control it right now."

"Of course not." Carlos reached back and closed the parlor door, then brushed past both of us and headed down the stairs. I rocked back from the force around him.

Mara led me away. I felt muzzy-headed, dazed, sore, and sick. The cold ache in my chest had returned.

As we reached the foyer I asked, "Are we leaving?" "Yes."

I gave a wobbling nod, so tired I wanted to lie down and whimper.

Out the side door, we walked back to the parking lot. Mara pushed me down into the Rover's passenger seat while she ran back to ring the curator to close up. A cool drizzle cleared away some of my nausea with the last whiff of the organs stink as the night breeze blew gusts of soft rain into my face.

Mara returned, looking concerned. "Are you going to be all right, Harper?"

I nodded, taking slow breaths to hold down my dinner.

She looked at her watch. "We'll have to make this quick. I have a class in the morning. So," she added, turning to Carlos, "tell us about it."

Carlos folded his hands and began to speak in a low voice. The rain brushed around him.

"It is necromantic. A much older artifact has been incorporated into the structure, behind the mirrored panel."

"The old wood," I mumbled.

Carlos made a small motion of his head. "That is a box. The bones and teeth have been built into the decoration, making the substance of the deceased part of the instrument."

"What?" I asked, appalled.

His mouth quirked. "A necromantic artifact incorporates the substance of the dead, both body and spirit. The revenant is commanded by whoever controls the artifact built with its mortal remains. A door in the structure allows the spirit to enter and leave at its master's bidding."

"Could the mirror be the door?" I asked.

"Yes. It's closed now, but it was open and the sprit escaped while his last master was unaware or helpless. While the sprit was at large, the artifact was moved. The spirit killed his master and stole his name, but then he became lost. Now he wanders, still bound to the artifact, unable to be free, but also unable to return unless he's summoned or comes face-to-face with his body's prison. There's no one to summon the spirit, so he tries to find the artifact and become his own master.

"But the museum owns the organ…"

"Ownership is nothing." Catlos frowned composing his thoughts "The box is the original vessel, transferred from object to object, wrapped in layers of spells and wood, to hid the spirit from himself and others. He's strong and autonomous, he was a man of power while he lived and his masters rightly feared his spirit. When the instrument came to the museum, he gained the power it absorbed from the nexus. He couldn't find it directly, but he had the energy to manipulate the world again. He began to hunt the owners down and kill them."