Centaur of the Crime: Book One of 'Fantasy and Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 1) (17 page)

BOOK: Centaur of the Crime: Book One of 'Fantasy and Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 1)
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I fell back and cracked my head on a hard surface.

Something wet. Ran down the back. Of my neck.

Smell of blood and hot peppermint.

The shape that had run at my side finally came into view. The timing stank. Because my vision blurred as I sank towards blackness.

“Are you all right?”

The question struck me as pretty funny.

Not because I’d just faced off with a Technicolor version of a dinosaur. Nope. It was funny because it came from the being who stood over me. Who’d just helped save me from a dragon.

He looked a hell of a lot like
Bambi
.

The darkness took me and held me close.

The blood trail stood out in a pattern of scarlet splashes against the snow.

Seven years old again. Pike County, Illinois.

I knew that I was back in The Dream. Something about it felt different this time. Something more complete. Something that made me feel expectant, like a teenager waiting for my prom date to arrive.

The cold wind raised goosebumps on my arms, even through the fleece of my pink jacket and mittens. My little wigwam boots followed the blood trail up along the side of our driveway. Up to the garage’s side door.

The noises from inside the garage were soft but unmistakably clear. The scrape of flesh on concrete, a grunt, a thud against metal. Then the blubbery, snot-choked sounds of sobbing. Trembling, I opened the door.

Daddy knelt before the white, coffin-shaped freezer. “Oh, God, forgive me, forgive me,” he sobbed. “Dear God, I killed her, I
murdered
her.”

Something like a misshapen nub of bone jutted out of the freezer. I stood on tiptoe, grabbed the top edge, and looked down into the compartment. I stared at what lay inside, more puzzled than ever at Daddy’s reaction.

It was a deer.

A strange looking deer, I supposed, but Daddy had brought deer home from his hunting trips before. I took another look. The deer’s antlers jutted out of the freezer. Okay, that was a little odd, because it was definitely a doe.

The animal was fairly small, with curiously fawn-like white spots on its flank. A thread of half-clotted scarlet dripped from the poor thing’s mouth. A splash of red on its chest showed where the bullet had hit its mark.

“Dayna!” Daddy grabbed me, spun me away from the freezer.

His bright blue eyes, now rimmed in red, were so lost and desperate. It made me want to bawl right then and there, and I didn’t even know what had caused all of this. All I knew was that I loved him and didn’t want to see him in such pain.

“Dayna, listen…something happened today, something I can’t…can’t explain. I…”

His hands twitched as if he were trying to hold something elusive, something that kept slipping out of his grasp.

“What happened? Can you tell me?”

“I was out in the deer blind by the lake. Saw a buck come right out of the tree line. I…God help me, I took the shot. I thought it was clean, but he didn’t drop. Tracked him all the way back here. He didn’t drop until he almost got to our back yard.”

I nodded. That explained the blood trail I’d stumbled across. “But…isn’t he a doe? I mean, she?”

“She’s a doe,” he breathed. “And she’s more. I came up to where the buck fell. Saw then that he was a she.”

“Daddy?”

“I thought she was dead. But as I walked up, she raised her head. Her eyes were so sad, so sad…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Dayna, she
spoke
to me. She said, ‘Why? Why did you kill me?’. She lay her head back down. She closed her eyes, and she was gone.”

With that admission off his chest, he slumped against the cold side of the freezer, shuddering. He grasped me gently by the shoulders, eyes pleading.

“Dayna, promise me that you’ll never breathe a word of this. Not to anyone, not even your mom.”

I snuggled into his arms, felt his beard hair tickle my cheek as I kissed him.

“I promise, Daddy. I promise.”

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

I opened my eyes. I must’ve been lying flat on my back, because a pleasant morning sky smiled down on me. Little cotton-ball puffs of cloud dotted the expanse of the cleanest, purest blue I’d ever seen. Which was kind of weird, because judging by the taste in my mouth, I’d spent last night licking the bottom of a dirty ashtray.

That’s when memory washed over me in a tidal wave of images. Benedict. Andeluvia. The Centaur Kingdom. I cursed and let out a groan. I was still in a magical land of talking owls and griffins and dragons. Oh, my.

I’d have traded in that entire medieval menagerie right now, just for a steaming mug of coffee. With a dollop of French vanilla cream, to boot.

Someone spoke from nearby. It was hard to raise my head.

“She’s woken from her slumber, wizard.”

Galen appeared at my side, a relieved look on his face and a bag-shaped canteen in his hand. The centaur didn’t quite loom over me the way he had when I first woke up in Andeluvia. I realized that I lay on a type of makeshift raised platform.

“Don’t bestir yourself quite yet,” he cautioned me, as he pulled a stopper out of the bag and held the opening to my mouth. “You acquired a fine collection of bumps, bruises, and burns last night. Enough to keep us all busy.”

“Us?” My voice came out in a croak. “Who’s ‘us’?”

“Hush,” he commanded, and tilted the bag.

The sweetest water I’d ever tasted spilled into my mouth, washing away the ash grit. Galen next handed me a little wooden plate. It held half-dozen of what I’d have sworn were boysenberries the size of goose eggs. I gulped down the plate’s contents in four greedy handfuls. Whether it was the water or the fruit, I definitely felt stronger, more replenished.

“We’re among the Fayleene now,” Galen explained, as he stowed both bag and plate back in a pocket of his side-mounted saddlebag. “Between my magic and their herbal lore, your wounds are almost gone already.”

Cautiously, I held up one arm. I flexed the fingers, bent my elbow. No more pain. Some redness was all that remained of the burns on my hand. I cautiously reached behind my head. A tender lump under my scalp, a soft mushy bruise, was all that gave me a twinge. Impressive medicine.

Despite Galen’s protestations, I struggled to a sitting position. I’d lain on a makeshift litter that Galen had propped up in a small clearing, between two chest-high boulders. Probably made it easier for him to work on me. I swung my legs off to the side and let my feet dangle.

That’s when I saw them. Galen and I were surrounded by a herd of white-tailed deer. At least, that’s what they initially looked like. All of the Fayleene had antlers, even though most of them were does. Compared to earthly deer, they were fairly small. The white spots that dotted their coats enhanced their fawn-like appearance.

The events in The Dream hit me then. Sat on my chest like a dull ache. Only those events weren’t constructs of my imagination. Those memories had actually taken place. Taken place, and then gotten buried by a seven year old girl who did what she was asked to do—never tell anyone what had happened.

I shuddered as I recalled everything with crystalline clarity.

One of the older does, who sported a magnificent set of gray-white antlers, stepped forward. Her muzzle worked to form the same, lightly accented voice that Galen and I had first heard upon our arrival.

“Welcome to the lands of the Fayleene,” she said, her dark brown eyes as liquid and pretty as her speech. “We are pleased to see you recovered from your injuries. Now, please leave our realm.”

“Why, thank you…” I started to say. But the doe’s blunt words brought me up short. “Um, what?”

“Was I unclear? You are healed now. You should be going.”

Galen made a tsk of disapproval, but the doe ignored him. I got down unsteadily from the litter, but I waved off the centaur’s proffered hand. I looked the Fayleene leader square in her pretty brown eyes.

“That’s it? My friend and I almost end up as barbeque on your doorstep, and you’re just going to see us off?”

“Ah, I see that I was clear. Yes, you be off now.”

“Not until I have my say! Didn’t the Albess contact you? Didn’t you want to see me?”

“We asked her for more details,” the doe replied calmly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the owls are hard to understand. We expected her to answer with a message, not a pair of messengers. Or a pair of forest-torching dragons.”

“Look, I’m sorry about your forest, but we didn’t exactly ask for that,” I explained. “Albess Thea sent us here because I’m trying to find out who murdered the Good King Benedict. She said I needed a Fayleene to help me.”

“Help you? How? And why? We have no interest in human rulers.”

“Ungracious doe,” Galen said sternly, “the chaos and evil created by Benedict’s murder has already visited you. The two bodies that lie smoking in your woods prove that. You know as well as anyone that the Fayleene bring luck. Luck, and the deep, subtle magics that escape even the best of wizards.”

“You seek help? You seek luck?” The doe considered, and then said, “There is a one among us who I would bid to go with you. Prince Liam.”

With that, one of the smaller Fayleene bucks stepped out into the clearing. His fawn-colored, white-spotted coat shone with the sleekness of health. Two things set his appearance apart from the other Fayleene.

His right eye held the standard liquid brown, but the left was a bright, emerald green. More evident than his eyes were his antlers. Liam would’ve made a fine six-point buck, but his left antler simply ended in a jagged stub that projected three inches from his skull.

“If I am so bid, then I will go,” Prince Liam said. “I will return once Dayna Chrissie’s cause is victorious.”

I immediately recognized the voice that had directed me in my flight from the dragon. To my delight, he bent his forelegs and turned his head so as to give me a sweeping bow.

Right then, the other Fayleene burst out in a chorus of strange, bleating laughter. The herd moved out of the clearing in a dull clatter of cloven hoofs. They faded into the woods without so much as a fare-thee-well. But they did not leave without my hearing a few of their choicer comments.

“Return once her cause is victorious? What a laugh.”

“You know, Liam just exiled himself.”

“His never coming back
would
be an improvement.”

Liam remained in his bow, eyes fixed at some point on the ash-covered forest floor. But I saw the little deer’s expression. It wasn’t a happy one, and he’d set his jaw stubbornly. Galen and I traded a glance. He shrugged. Apparently I’d have to find out what was going on.

“Prince Liam, get up, please.” I said awkwardly. The Fayleene did so, turning a curious gaze at each of us in turn. “We, ah, don’t stand on much ceremony. You can call me Dayna, and of course, you know Galen, the court wizard. When we return to the palace, you’ll meet Shaw, a griffin who also chose to accompany us.”

“A griffin? How marvelous. Since I am a prince in name only, refer to me as Liam, if you please.”

“In name only?” Galen raised an eyebrow. “I am also in line for the throne of my people—in name only. Might I inquire your circumstance?”

BOOK: Centaur of the Crime: Book One of 'Fantasy and Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 1)
3.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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