Spirits in the Water

By Cherie Reich, Gwen Gardner, Jeff Chapman and 8 more

A haunted journey on a riverboat, water sprites borne of pennies, preternatural creatures, ancient serpents, and the Lady of the Lake lurk in dark waters. Raging storms and magical rainbow fountains. Water is spectacularly beautiful but also treacherous.

Gwen Gardner gives us Shake, Rattle and Row. Harlow Grayson has the chance to rid herself of a pesky ghost but she must first brave a haunted riverboat and recover a family heirloom. What she finds might be more than she can handle.

Jeff Chapman offers The Water Wight. When a drowned girl changes her mind about suicide, Merliss and her associates face a fearsome, preternatural creature.

M. Pax presents The Wallows. Evernee Weems wants to escape this world in the worst way. Her daughter needs everything, the rent is being raised, Evernee’s job barely pays minimum wage, and she has little hope for better. Inside a puddle is a different reality. She jumps in, happy to trade her problems for a life in which worries don’t exist. Or do they?

Angela Brown gives us Extraordinary. Puberty hits Angelique like a gut punch and brings about a change, forcing an unexpected revelation about her past. All seems well until a vicious storm tears through her Texas community, and Angelique learns there are worse things than a little change.

River Fairchild presents You Can’t Go Home Again. A young woman, filled with regret about the past, goes on a journey and discovers more than she bargained for.

Simon Kewin offers us The Waters, Dividing the Land. Hyrn the horned god of the woodlands is learning the meaning of fear. Death magic blights the land, threatening everyone and everything. To save what he can from spreading corruption, he turns to the ancient river serpents, but they’ve grown old and distant and may not hear his call at all.

Christine Rains gives us Frozen. A necromancer is on the frozen moon of Saturn where the dead do scream.

Meradeth Houston presents The Flood. Sometimes a flooded kitchen isn’t the unluckiest thing to happen to you.

Catherine Stine offers Maizy of Bellagio. April still searches for her mother who vanished nineteen years ago from the fountain at Hotel Bellagio in Vegas. Can Maizy, a water sprite who works the fountain’s pink colors, begin to help the three generations of eccentric women tortured by this tragedy?

M. Gerrick gives us The One Who Would Wield the Sword. Nikka is supposed to be nothing more than dragon bait so a real dragon hunter can do his job, but the Lady in the Lake has other plans for her.

Cherie Reich presents The Folding Point. Aimee’s fight against those who banned paper magics has begun.

From USA Today, Amazon bestselling, and popular science fiction and fantasy authors comes Spirits in the Water, a supernatural anthology of eleven thrilling tales. Spirits in the Water is the fourth, long-awaited Elements story collection from the dynamic and inventive Untethered Realms group.

Elements of Untethered Realms series
Twisted Earths - October 2014
Mayhem in the Air - October 2015
Ghosts of Fire - October 2016
Spirits in the Water - October 2017

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cherie Reich
• Release date: Oct 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370929993

Cherie Reich

Cherie Reich has more books than she can ever read and more ideas than she can ever write, but that doesn’t stop this bookworm from trying, even if it means curbing her TV obsession. She is a speculative fiction writer and library assistant living in Virginia.

Book preview

Spirits in the Water

Elements of Untethered Realms #4

Edited by Cherie Reich and Catherine Stine

Featuring stories from Angela Brown, Jeff Chapman, River Fairchild, Gwen Gardner, M. Gerrick, Meradeth Houston, Simon Kewin, M. Pax, Christine Rains, Cherie Reich, and Catherine Stine

Copyright 2017

First Edition

All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events, or occurrences is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously.

Summary: A haunted journey on a riverboat, water sprites borne of pennies; preternatural creatures, ancient serpents, and the Lady of the Lake lurk in dark waters. Raging storms and magical rainbow fountains. Water is spectacularly beautiful but also treacherous. Written by USA Today and fantasy and science fiction bestselling authors, Spirits in the Water is the fourth anthology from the Untethered Realms group.

Cover Designed by Christine Rains and Cherie Reich

An Untethered Realms Anthology | untetheredrealms.com

Table of Contents

Shake, Rattle & Row by Gwen Gardner

The Water Wight by Jeff Chapman

The Wallows by M. Pax

Extraordinary by Angela Brown

You Can’t Go Home Again by River Fairchild

The Waters, Dividing the Land by Simon Kewin

Frozen by Christine Rains

The Flood by Meradeth Houston

Maizy of Bellagio by Catherine Stine

The One Who Would Wield the Sword by M. Gerrick

The Folding Point by Cherie Reich

Elements of Untethered Realms

Authors of Spirits in the Water

About Untethered Realms

A Crystal Ball Short Story

Chapter One

I glanced across the ballroom of the Starlight Riverboat and tried to ignore the rocking motion as the boat pulled away from the dock. A three-hour cruise. Why did those words ring a bell?

The renovated riverboat had been completely blinged out. A virtual floating Monte Carlo type casino lay before me. Sparkling chandeliers caught the light and shot prisms of color along the walls. The whir of spinning reels on slot machines and flashing lights announced wins. Blackjack and craps tables, lined with new felt surfaces, were scattered throughout the room. I took special note of the long wooden bar along the far wall. Bitters and soda worked wonders on an upset stomach.

I had used my press pass to board, not because I wanted to cruise the river, but because Crystal had talked me into it. She said something big was going down, magic words to a journalist. But with Crystal, you never knew about motive. Whatever it was, it had better be good.

I perused the crowd. Where was she?

I pulled the pen from my pocket and eyed it in distaste. A child would love it. Too thick in circumference to write with comfortably, it had retractable multicolored choices of ink to choose from. A cheap plastic piece of junk, the sort of thing Crystal would use.

Did you bring the pen, Harlow? said someone coming up beside me.

I jumped. Crystal! Where’ve you been?

I looked around to see if anyone was listening.

Scouting. Did you bring it?

I held up the pen. Yes, but I’m not sure about this. It’s not right. We shouldn’t be messing with this stuff.

Oh, get over yourself. She fairly bounced with excitement.

I sighed and knew I’d regret this.

Try the gold ink this—

Shh, I got this. With my heart pounding, I pushed down the gold nub. A golden glow descended over the room and cast an unearthly light. My skin prickled as latent sparkles of ethereal energy settled over me. I blinked several times, adjusting to the illusion of the veil merging between the mortal and spirit worlds.

Holy mother of— I crossed myself. Although I’d done this before, I’d never get used to it.

I surveyed my new—but somehow same—surroundings. I was still on a riverboat casino, but it was more alive, if that even made sense, given that the room was full of ghosts. A roulette wheel spun, and the clickety-clack of the marble bounced from slot to slot until it found its sweet spot. Joyful shouts erupted. Spectral women in flapper dresses and feathered headbands hovered over gray-suited men in pinstripes playing cards and smoking fat cigars. And above it all, the fog of cigar smoke clung to everything.

I wrinkled my nose. Observing the two worlds together made me dizzy. Between the smoke and the boat rocking, I felt green around the gills. I knew as soon as I had stepped on board in my four-inch stilettos that this was a bad idea. And trust me, a full-figured diva on heels was no easy feat to begin with.

This isn’t natural, I whispered to Crystal.

Welcome to my world. Crystal hovered at my side.

Crystal Ball—her real name—used to be my annoying coworker before she got murdered. Now she was an annoying ghost. I unwillingly inherited her agony column—Ask Crystal Ball, if you can believe it—a pseudo-psychic hocus pocus bunch of baloney. But worst of all was that Crystal’s ghost came as a nasty side effect of the job. My fate was sealed when I’d picked up and used her favorite pen. Somehow the pen allowed me to see the ghostly realms she saw. I’d never seen another era, though, until now. What business could Crystal possibly have with the 1920s, and, more importantly, why involve me?

But I had bigger problems.

You could have warned me. I spoke into my digital voice recorder so it didn’t look as if I were talking to myself. That and the press pass around my neck should cover any awkwardness that might arise while speaking to my spectral sidekick.

I told you it was formal, didn’t I? She eyed my gown and then perused the room as if looking for someone. Besides, what do you have to complain about? I’m the one stuck throughout eternity in skin tight pants. She squirmed and tried to pull out a wedgie to no avail.

She had a point. Still, if she traipsed around sporting a 1960s bouffant hairdo and tight capris with flats in a twenty-first century world, what did she expect? If she had dressed with the respect due our profession, she wouldn’t be worrying about a wedgie. And don’t even get me started on her eyeliner. Cleopatra had nothing on Crystal Ball.

"I am dressed formal, I said, keeping my voice low. But you failed to mention we’d be on water." My stomach churned. I smoothed down the lines of my flowing Grecian style black dress, its long train, straps, and fitted silver-sequined waist complementary to my full figure. I spotted my reflection in the mirror behind the bar and patted my dark hair, happy with the sleek new do too.

So? She glanced at me, her penciled-in eyebrows reaching for her hairline.

So I get seasick. I nodded at an inquisitive couple drifting past. I tried to ignore the fact that I could see right through them.

Oh for crying out loud! She huffed. You can’t be serious? We’re only on a river.

I’m dead serious. I clenched my jaw.

Well, go throw up or something and then hurry back because I’m going to need you. She made shooing motions at me.

I frowned. Which brings me to the point of why we’re here. You never said.

In a minute. Crystal shot across the room as if she’d spotted someone she knew and zipped straight through a swinging wooden door.

Chapter Two

I shook my head and spoke a few choice words into my recorder. It felt good, but I made a mental note to delete it later. I had no idea what Crystal expected me to do or why she asked me to meet her here. And to top it off, that awful mayor Teddy Tentacles Bertrand was making a beeline for me.

Harlow Grayson! said the mayor with a horsey grin.

Mayor Bertrand! I pasted on my professional smile, the one where the dimple in my left cheek made an appearance. The last time I’d seen the mayor was at the grand opening of the Peacock nightclub in town. I’d spent the whole night fighting off his roaming hands. Apparently he had a thing for Piña Coladas and large coconuts.

You look ravishing, my dear. He looked me up and down and licked his beefy lips.

I shivered and ignored his comment, instead saying, This riverboat is opulent. Must have cost Mr. Stanhope a bundle getting it shipshape again. I’d done a bit of homework, so I knew at least that much. How long has it been since this place was last up and running?

1929. He leaned in close and whispered booze fumes at me. Just between us, I heard it had an illegal gambling den back in the day. Private club, down in the hull, invitation only. He winked and slipped an arm around my waist. But you didn’t hear it from me.

Yeah, well, newsflash, the whole place was, and always had been, one big casino from what I could see. Must have been the worst kept secret in town. What happened here? Why has it been closed all this time?

Some say it’s cursed. The boat lay half under water for the longest time.

Oh? Why is that? I wedged the microphone between us to free myself from his grasp. The mayor liked nothing better than publicity and the sound of his own voice. So if I kept him busy with chitchat, maybe his hands would stay idle.

Well, the rumors alone were enough to close it down. Besides the illicit gambling and drinking, a fire caused the boat to sink. Then, of course, the stock market crashed and the whole Depression thing. He flicked his wrist as if speaking about a slight annoyance.

Huh. So Stanhope thought it would be a good idea to restore it to its former glory? I glanced at the opulence on both sides of the ether. He must have done well for himself. It couldn’t have been cheap to resurrect this floating palace.

The mayor glanced around. I heard the first Stanhope had invested well and lain low through the Depression. He left his descendants sitting pretty.

The current Gerald Stanhope had made the cover of every national tabloid in the country and abroad. But not for his philanthropy or business sense. His playboy lifestyle left a chain of conquests in his wake. What made him want to renovate the old riverboat?

Glancing across the room, I saw Gerald Stanhope III holding court with the doting press. Behind him hovered the ghost of an older gentleman, the family resemblance quite striking. It could only be Gerald Stanhope the First and next to him, a possessive grip on his arm even in death, his wife.

I didn’t know why Crystal brought me here, but I figured I might as well get a story while I waited for her to return. Excuse me, Mayor, there’s someone I need to speak to.

I cut a path through the casino and tried to stay oriented in both worlds. As I headed across the room, I spied Crystal floating back through the door on the tail of a spectral cigar girl, doing her best to brush her off. I knew the feeling well.

What was she up to? I detoured through the crowd and caught up with Crystal between a row of shrill ringing one-armed bandits and a deeply packed craps table. Raised voices trapped under a thick cloud of smoke rumbled and hovered over the table like Mount Vesuvius threatening to erupt.

I lifted my voice to be heard. What are you doing, and why are you harassing the staff? I asked Crystal, forgetting to use my microphone. I glanced around the room, and my eyes locked with Stanhope Senior’s ghost. He grinned and nodded at me while his wife scowled and drew his attention away.

Because she may have information I need, said Crystal, as if she were making perfect sense.

What information? And when are you going to tell me why I’m here? I demanded.

Look, I have trouble touching things on the mortal plane, she griped. Once I find what I’m looking for, you’ll have to pick it up for me.

Pick it up? Sudden clarity hit me. Oh no you don’t. We’ve been here before. I will not steal evidence. If you want something, it should be done through the proper channels. Although I don’t know what you could possibly be researching on a 1920s riverboat casino.

She jammed her hands on her hips. I have never asked you to steal. Only borrow. And besides, it’s not stealing when it belongs to me. She frowned. At least it would have, if circumstances were different.

Chapter Three

You’re not making sense, I started.

Look. My great-grandmother was on this rig the night it went down. They say she started the fire and then ran off so she wouldn’t go to jail.

But why would she have started the fire?

Because of her affair with Gerald Stanhope the First. He dumped her, so she got even. She sent a telegram to my grandmother afterwards explaining why she had to disappear. My grandmother had abandonment issues her whole life. First her father died, and then her mother just up and left. But none of that matters now. Great-Grandma wore a necklace that night, the only family heirloom our family’s got—and before you say it, she didn’t get it from him.

And you think it’s still here after all of these years? Why would it be here? If she skipped town, wouldn’t she have taken the necklace with her?

Yes, of course. But I don’t think she ever left town, Crystal said.

If she never left town, then where…?

Crystal quirked an impatient eyebrow and waited for me to catch up.

Wait… You think she never left this ship?

That’s exactly what I think. I intend to find out what happened to my great-grandmother and recover her necklace, Crystal said. My niece is getting married next month, and I want her to have it.

Yeah, well, good luck with that. I turned to go. There would have been a full inquiry at the time. If the authorities hadn’t uncovered anything then, nothing would likely be found now, so many years later. Especially since the riverboat had been renovated.

Crystal zipped past me and hovered in my way. I had to either stop or walk right through her. Been there, done that. Not a pleasant experience.

She floated before me, hands on hips, lips pursed. This is important. Probably the most important thing I’ve ever done.

I thought solving your own murder was the most important thing you’ve ever done? When I’d first been saddled with Crystal, I thought solving her murder would rid me of her. It hadn’t worked. We discovered the murderer all right, but here she still hovered, like the ghost of Barbie on steroids. She could be stubborn when she wanted something, but so could I.

At the time it was, she conceded. But now this is more important.

I tapped my lip and pretended to think about it.

Please. She clasped her hands together and kneeled.

I stood my ground. Forget it. I circled back the other way, but Crystal was like a dog with a bone. It’s how she got murdered, that rigid determinedness. I liked my earthly skin—every last inch of it. I felt no need to stick my neck out, especially for a ghost. After all, I’d be the one going to jail if we got caught, not she.

Crystal pursued me, her arms flapping in an effort to reason with me. Why won’t you help me?

I don’t want to go to jail. And stealing is wrong.

It’s not stealing. The necklace belongs to my family. And besides, someone got away with murder. I’m sure of it. Don’t you want to put another criminal behind bars? she persisted.

No.

Fine. She huffed at my retreating back. One week.

I stopped and turned around. One week? What are you talking about now?

She shook her head. You are so slow. Keep up. If you help me, I will leave you alone for one whole week.

The light went on in the attic. Not a peep for a week? No appearance, no chatter, no nothing?

Nothing.

I thought about it. A week without Crystal would be heaven. All right.

She yippeed.

Only I want a month, I added.

She screwed up her face as if thinking about it, but I knew she’d cave. She wanted this. Bad. Okay. But only if we’re successful. We don’t solve this, then I’ll stick to you like crazy glue.

She had the crazy part down, but the glue threat had me worried.

Fine. I pressed my lips together and folded my arms over my chest.

Fine, Crystal agreed.

Chapter Four

So why were you pestering that cigar girl? I asked.

According to some of the staff, she and my great-grandmother were friends. She worked here that night. I’m convinced she knows something, said Crystal.

What’s your plan?

Crystal always had a plan, no matter how wild.

There must be a captain’s log or records of who boarded that night. We can start there. Great-Grandma’s name was Dora Owens.

And if we find her name listed? That doesn’t prove anything. We already know she was here that night. Although, if I was part of Crystal’s crazy family, I might have skipped town too.

We know she was here. But we need to know who else was here that night. They’re all suspects. Find Dora’s personnel file and see what it says. Then we’ll talk to the staff, Crystal said.

If you think I’m talking to a bunch of ghosts, then you’re daft.

I need you to find the actual records. We can’t go on hearsay. Can you do that without arguing? she spat back.

People were starting to stare. I lifted my microphone to my lips. All right. I’ll see what I can do about finding the records. You talk to the dead people. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I just chose to ignore it.

I wound my way through tables, both real and ethereal, toward a door I’d spotted tucked behind the bar marked Staff Only. It looked like a good place to start. With a surreptitious glance back to see if I was being watched, I turned the knob and went through. Shelves lined the walls and were stocked with bottles of booze and kegs of beer. A single naked lightbulb with a pull-string hung from the ceiling. The floor was made of wooden planks, their splintered slivers in desperate need of sanding. So not everything had been upgraded for the grand reopening. If that hanging bulb was up to code, then I was a skinny chick.

Someone twisted and rattled the doorknob. I scuttled across the room. My heel caught between the slatted floorboards, and I sprawled into the shadows against the far wall. I looked in horror at my stiletto stuck in a slat, spotlighted big as life beneath the open bulb. The barman entered with a keg on his shoulder and turned to heft another when he spotted it. He strolled over, yanked it from the slat, and glanced around as he did so. I squeezed farther back into the shadows and guided myself into the corner with my fingers when I heard a faint click. A draught of cool, stale air wafted into my face through a crack in the wall. I pushed against the wall and found myself on the other side of a two-way revolving door and in a new room.

Well, that was fortuitous, I murmured, before a chilling realization took hold. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and a freezing cold enveloped me, as if I’d just walked into a meat locker. By the looks of the ship’s galley, no live person had