changeling chronicles 03 - faerie realm (15 page)

No pictures of his parents, though…

I stood and explored the rest of the conservatory. I found more portraits behind dusty shelves of books, ranging from the ancient to the fairly modern. Mage history volumes, huh. Curious, I flipped one open. Had anyone recorded their history around the invasion, or was it too recent?

A rush of air behind me. “That’s not one of my more interesting history books.” Vance rested a hand on my shoulder. “Weren’t you going to tell me something important?”

“Oh,
shit.
I actually was. I know what the magical talisman is. At least, I think I do.” I put the book down and turned to face him. “I think it’s Velkas’s blade.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Vance’s whole body stilled. “You think… what? How?”

“Velkas,” I said. “Remember how we figured everyone who’d mentioned Velkas was actually talking about Calder, when we were trying to find those missing kids? They kept talking about a half-faerie with an ash blade. I’m sure Calder said the blade Velkas had was forged from oak. When I duelled Velkas, I assumed it was ash, but it might not have been. He definitely stole it from Summer. And he was the last pure Sidhe lord to come here, to Earth.”

“Perhaps,” said Vance. “It sounded like Velkas had been living in the Grey Vale for a while. Surely Summer would have noticed their missing talisman before then, if he stole it before he left.”

“Maybe. Time passes weirdly in Faerie. Perhaps… I don’t know. Now I think about it, she didn’t say
when
it was stolen from Summer. She just said someone stole it and brought it here. If I’m remembering right.”

“You are,” Vance said, in his scariest calm voice. “Which leaves no doubt that she left out key information.”

“Dammit. If it’s true, if she took it from Velkas’s dead body… she said directly that she didn’t steal it. But maybe it doesn’t count as stealing in her book if the person she took it from is dead.” I shook my head. “It’s my fault. I left the talisman lying around in the Grey Vale after I killed him.”

“You couldn’t have known,” said Vance. “I didn’t. I doubt even Chieftain Taive does.”

“Dammit. Whether she has the talisman or not, I’ve no idea where she’s gone. Her tree kind of rotted to pieces from the inside. She’s alive, though. And pissed at me.”

“She may be the thief, but her magic is fading,” said Vance. “By her own admission.”

“If she’s telling the truth.”

“There’s no way to tell,” said Vance tightly. “I do, however, have an alternative idea. We could speak to my uncle about the shifter murders, to see if anyone else saw who was responsible. I’d rather avoid involving Anabel in this if I can help it.”

Oh.
His younger cousin—and, I assumed, the youngest in the Colton family.

“They live near shifter territory, right?”

“On the outskirts. We won’t be trespassing on their territory if we pay them a visit.”

We.
I’d get to properly meet his family? “Do you think they might know what’s happening?”

“Maybe. Perhaps not. But they’re not full-blooded shifters. My uncle goes through a partial transformation, but his wife isn’t a shifter. She might have seen something outside the last two nights.”

“Okay. Sure. Which first? Them, or the half-faeries?”

“The shifters. We have a time limit on when it’s safe to enter their territory.”

“True. All right. Are you going to warn him we’re coming?”

“No. Chances are, he’ll close the door in my face anyway. He blames me for what happened to Anabel the other week.”

“Really? You’re the one who brought her back.” And I was more to blame than Vance. I’d told him the truth nearly too late, and Vance’s cousin had been kidnapped as an incentive to draw him into Velkas’s trap.

“My uncle has never forgotten the argument he had with my father before he died. He thinks the mages handled the situation wrong, and shouldn’t have taken power after the invasion. He also hates the shifters. Luckily, Anabel’s mother is more reasonable. She’s human, though she has shifter family members. I’d rather hope my uncle isn’t around.”

“So… your cousin’s human? No magic?”

“Anabel? She’s a quarter mage, so it’s likely she’ll develop some modified magical talent. She’s only nine.”

I nodded. “Okay. So her mum’s likely to talk? I really don’t want to piss anyone else off today.”

“With my uncle, you might have to retract that statement,” said Vance. “Ready?”

Not really.
I’d had a day of it already. But I moved closer to Vance, and he transported us both away.

We landed on a country road bordered by low stone walls. Green fields lay on both sides, and a dilapidated farmhouse nested in a dip between them. The fields were more weeds than grass, overgrown and unkempt. If I squinted, I could see another farmhouse about a mile out, but it couldn’t be more obvious that whoever had bought this place had done so to avoid having to interact with other humans. The fences alone proved that. Over their wooden exteriors, layers of wards were interlinked in patterns even I didn’t know. That shit was strong. I tried to walk up to the fence and collided with an invisible barrier.

“This is the place?” I asked. The city was a smog-covered cluster of buildings in the distance. The farmhouse itself lay at a crooked angle, three floors encased in white plaster with roof tiles missing and a general air of neglect.

Vance strode ahead, coat streaming behind him. A gap in the fence showed a path leading to the front door. Apparently undeterred by the barriers, Vance walked through the gap. The wards pressed against me as I followed, but they must have decided I wasn’t a threat because the pressure vanished seconds later. Vance and I walked up to the red-painted front door, and he knocked.

A pale redheaded woman answered. “Oh—Mage Lord.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I shouldn’t let you in. Wyatt isn’t here.”

“Good,” said Vance. “It’s you I wanted to talk to. This is Ivy, my new assistant.”

Her gaze flickered over me. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Have you heard about the deaths on your territory?” asked Vance.

A moment’s hesitation, then she nodded. “I haven’t seen anything. Not here. I thought you’d come asking. None of the other shifters will talk, will they?”

“I have reason to suspect something is wrong with the energy levels,” said Vance. “Has Anabel been acting oddly? And Wyatt?”

“Yes. Both of them.”

So it’s true.

“Can I see her?” asked Vance. “Please.”

I hid my surprise. Vance had toned down the scary mage act so thoroughly, he might have been an ordinary guy visiting family. If not for the coat.

“All right. But you can’t stay long. If Wyatt gets back…”

“I’ve got it,” said Vance, looking over her shoulder. A small figure appeared in the hallway, a girl with long dark hair and big staring eyes.

“Vance? I didn’t know you were coming.” Anabel ran to him and hugged him.

“Anabel. This is a surprise visit, okay? Don’t tell your dad.”

Okay. This is the weirdest day ever.

I hovered awkwardly behind until the lady closed the front door and beckoned us into the living room. It was plainer than I’d expected, considering who it belonged to. Blocky furniture surrounded a fireplace, and bookcases covered the back wall. I took a seat at Vance’s encouragement, while he sat on the sofa’s other side, Anabel clinging to him. I arched an eyebrow at him, but he ignored me. Anabel’s mother, meanwhile, stood by the window, hands clasped in a nervous gesture.

“I’m Rita, by the way,” she said to me. “You’re… not a mage. Right?”

“I’m a witch,” I said, falling back on my usual story. “I work for the mages, helping investigate cases like these.”

“Shifters?”

“Faeries.” I paused. “That’s what I wanted to ask. It’s clear the two murders were perpetrated by a faerie or half-faerie. Have you seen a female faerie anywhere around here?”

“Faerie?” repeated Rita, a puzzled frown on her face. “Not out here.”

“Nothing unusual?” I pressed. “She uses Summer magic. Has there been any unusually pleasant weather, or flowers growing out of season?”

“Now that you mention it…” She glanced over her shoulder, at the window. “Other farmers have reported finding thorny bushes growing around here. Not usual for this time of year, and nobody can identify what they are. I assumed it was an aftereffect of the disturbances lately… the veil lifting…” She shot a worried look at Anabel.

A pang of sympathy struck me. She had no magic, no way of defending herself when magical disasters struck.
Thorns,
however, brought a different image to mind. Roses. A bed of thorns rising to pull me under. I crossed my goose-bump-prickled arms.

“Might be an aftereffect,” I said slowly. “Magic can do weird stuff. Especially with the faeries. We have reason to suspect…” How to bring up magical talismans? I doubted the shifters knew a thing about faerie magic. They weren’t Sighted, for a start. The thorns might be coincidental, like the summer it had rained frogs and alligators after a couple of half-faeries had started a blistering argument in town.

Vance spoke. “Has your husband seen any new magical objects lately? It’s possible something dangerous made it over here, outside the city.”

“Of what sort?”

“We don’t know,” said Vance. “An item linked to the Summer faeries. I told you the signs, didn’t I?”

He did? Maybe he’d told them to take precautions after Anabel’s near-miss.

“Not
here,”
said Anabel, blinking at me. “Faeries can’t come near here. Our wards keep them out.”

“Good,” I muttered.

She frowned at me. “Why? They’re not all bad, are they? The one who took me was, but the others aren’t, right?”

“If they’re from Faerie, then yeah. They’re dangerous. You
haven’t seen a pretty faerie lady around, have you?” I asked.

“I…” She glanced at her mother. “How do you know?”

My heart dropped and my throat went dry. “Stay away from her. She’s—one of the fey, and not the nice sort. The prettier they are, the more dangerous they are. It’s a mask.”

Vance moved closer to wrap one arm around his niece. “Listen to Ivy. Both of you—look, it’d be best if you didn’t come near the city until we’ve solved this case. I have reason to believe it’ll make me a target.”

“Again?” An undercurrent of anger entered Rita’s voice. “You’re putting my family in danger
again?”

“Not if I can help it.” Vance’s own voice might have cracked frozen water. “But shifters are being targeted by a dangerous killer. If either side finds out I’m involved, they’ll take action to stop me. I’d like to triple the wards on this place and station mage guards.”

“You think my husband will allow that?” Rita laughed hollowly. “You’ve brought enough trouble on our family.”

“Vance
is
our family,” piped up Anabel. “It’s not his fault they took me. Besides, my dad’s the one poking around that old grave.”

I turned to face her. “Grave?”

Anabel moved closer to Vance. “There’s this old tomb they uncovered on the edge of shifter territory. Dad thinks it might be linked to the life-drinker legend.”

“The… what?” I asked.

“Life-drinker,” said Rita. “It’s a shifter legend.”

“Creepy… old tomb. Right.” I looked at Vance, trying to convey
we need to put a stop to that
without actually speaking aloud. God knew we’d had enough close calls with death already. “So what is this life-drinker?”

“The god who created the first shifter,” said Anabel.

Holy crap.

“A god? Like… actual superhuman god?” I said. Vance’s expression remained inscrutable.

“So the legends say,” said Rita. “They say the first shifters have the DNA of this god. Another legend says the man wasn’t a god, but a supremely powerful shifter who once lived here, hundreds of years ago. This isn’t the first time his tomb’s been ‘discovered’.”

“And why’s he called the life-drinker?”

“Because he took life from others into himself to gain power.”

Damn. “With magic?”

“Perhaps. It’s rumoured he had an object—what the witches would call a talisman—which allowed him to do so.”

Talisman. I gaped, all words fleeing. No freaking way could this be the same talisman
we
were looking for. That came from Faerie. Right?

What the hell is even happening here?

Vance’s jaw tightened, but his behaviour didn’t otherwise betray his thoughts. Had he come to the same conclusion?

“The tomb,” he said. “Tell Wyatt to stay out of it.”

“I can’t.” She wrung her hands. “You know what he’s like in shifting season. Best to let him take out his frustration. He’s been digging it up for days.”

“You do realise undead swarmed the city last week, don’t you?” I said, unable to help myself. I mean, even if you discounted the missing faerie talisman and the creepy legend, digging up an old grave was a sure-fire way to end up joining the dead. Ghosts had been all over the place the other week, to say nothing of the mess we’d made of the veil.

“I really can’t stop him,” said Rita. “Not if he’s put his mind to it.”

“I’ll—” Anabel started.

“No,” Vance interrupted. “I’ll speak to him myself.”

He stood, gently dislodging Anabel. She hurried over to her mother, giving me another nervous look. “Daddy said he didn’t want to talk to anyone,” she said to Vance.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, in an unexpectedly soothing tone I’d never heard him use before. Anabel gave me a wary look. Weird. I didn’t blame her for being scared—most sensible people would be wary of someone carrying a sword around—but usually Vance was the one who freaked everyone out the most.

“Be careful,” said Rita, as Vance walked into the hallway. She didn’t say a word to me. Her husband clearly frightened her, and the sight of her daughter scurrying into the hall, eyeing my sword worriedly, made anger spark inside me. I already knew I’d have to restrain myself from introducing Vance’s uncle to Irene.