changeling chronicles 03 - faerie realm (10 page)

“Yes, I know it was a stupid idea,” I said wearily to Isabel. I hadn’t been able to give her a proper explanation the night before, until George had gone home. What a mess. Again. On the plus side, I had cookies. Isabel had taken one look at my face when I’d come in last night and declared an evening baking session—to George’s absolute delight. Now the inside of the flat was covered in flour as well as glitter.

Isabel looked at me from the armchair, where she’d opened one of her witch tomes. “I can’t find anything in here on people accidentally skipping across the veil using magic as a rope. Congratulations, Ivy. You’ve invented a whole new brand of necromancy.”

“Whoop-de-fucking-do,” I muttered. “I get that it’s dangerous, but come on. The necromancers won’t help, and if I can find out who killed the shifter…”

“Hmm,” said Isabel. “Your ability, though… is there anyone who can explain it to you? Someone who’s alive, that is.”

I shrugged. “I’m not friendly with the half-faeries. The Chief’s half Summer Sidhe, so he wouldn’t know the details about Winter magic, let alone magic from the Grey Vale.”

“Maybe not, but someone might. You can’t be
that
special.”

I pulled a face and shoved the last piece of cookie in my mouth. “Never mind. I have to do
something.
Other than talk to my boss, and I’d really rather not until he’s calmed down.”

I rubbed my sleepless eyes and tried to think. Back to half-blood territory… no. It looked like I’d have to see the necromancers if I wanted any answers at all. But I was pretty certain skipping over the veil without their permission violated their code in a dozen ways. Given their general attitude towards me, they wouldn’t listen to a reasonable explanation.

“Maybe I should sneak into Necromancer HQ and steal their books,” I said. “They must have a ‘Crossing into Death for Dummies’ somewhere.”

Isabel put her book down. “Ivy, I know you did it by accident, but please don’t make a habit of crossing over. What if you hadn’t been able to get back? If that necromancer hadn’t been there, you might have been stuck.”

“I know.” I also knew there was someone potentially lurking over in Death who I did
not
want to meet again, in the flesh or otherwise.

Wait. Did my ability mean I could go back to
Faerie,
even with the veil as normal? Sure, I didn’t
want
to go back, but if I could skip into one realm, surely it’d work for another. Maybe.

A rapping on the door.
Vance?
Damn. I should have called him, really, but my blasted pride got in the way. I hardly believed he’d taken off on me. No, it was probably Henry, come to pick up George.

Speaking of shifters, my first order of business for the day ought to be to find out what happened to the two dickheads who’d tied me up.

Steeling myself, I opened the door. Henry Cavanaugh frowned at me, looking even more beaten-down than before.

“Oh, it’s you.” I didn’t even try to hide my disdain.

“Ivy… I wanted to apologise for how I spoke to you yesterday.”

“Get in line,” I said, before I could stop myself. “Two of your people kidnapped me and tried to beat me to death last night.”

“I know,” he said. “The Mage Lord brought them in.”

“Wait. What?”

“Last night. He subdued them while they were in shifter form, the foolish human. They’re on trial today, but the other shifters are restless. There was another death yesterday. We need your help.” He paused, not long enough for me to absorb the impact of his words. “I wish to hire you.”

I stared at him, hardly believing it. “What?” was the first word out of my mouth. “You—someone else died?”

“Who?” asked Isabel.

“A shifter named Perry. He disappeared just before curfew.”

“And—how did he die?” I knew, of course. While I’d been here feeling sorry for myself, the killer had struck again. Damn it all.

“Cause of death unknown, but we suspect… magic. The scent of faeries was found near the body.”

“Shit.” I clenched my fists. “I could have stopped this, you know.”

Henry avoided my gaze. “If you can stop whichever monstrosity is killing my kin… I can’t promise the others will be agreeable, but I’d like you to help. For a fee, of course.”

This would be strictly freelance, because he was hiring
me
, not the Mage Lord. I hadn’t technically shut down my freelance business, though I’d not taken on any new work lately.

“Okay.”

Isabel reached over for the stack of printed contracts, and one leaped into her hand. “Here. I’m Ivy’s assistant, and I guess you’ll be needing one of my tracking spells.”

Henry nodded, relief flashing across his face. “Yes. Thank you. I’d be grateful for your help.”

“Pity someone had to die for it.”

Isabel gave me a look. Oops. My filter went walkabout on a regular basis at the best of times, but I’d crossed the line from mildly pissed to hopping mad some time ago. I clenched and re-clenched my fists, signing a messy scribble onto the contract and handing it over to Henry. He signed more carefully, watching me over the top of the paper. Not exactly wary, but with the look of a predator sensing danger. Good.

“So you want me to use a tracking spell?” I asked.

“A witch, ideally,” said Henry, with a glance at Isabel.

“I have to come,” I said. “I can see through faerie glamour. If it’s one of them who’s the killer, they might still be there. Hiding.”

“Really?” His predator-sensing-danger expression grew more pronounced.

“Yeah. If this killer’s targeting shifters, I’d watch out. Some of them can hold their own even against a shifter in animal form.”

His eyes flashed yellow. Whoa. I’d thought the beast was caged during the day, but maybe not. “That won’t happen.”

“If I’m helping with the investigation, I need to be there anyway. I can warn you if anything’s sneaking up on us.” Okay, perhaps I was trying to freak him out, but hell, maybe it was true. Creepy faeries.

“Fine,” he said, not looking too happy at all.

“Let’s go, then.” I stood.

“Okay, you’re the boss,” said Isabel. From her tone, she didn’t particularly approve of me speaking to Henry this way, but knew better than to try and calm me down.

When dealing with shifters, I’d probably be best off keeping my emotions in check, but I was pissed enough not to care. Damn faeries. Damn Vance. He must have teleported straight back over there after he’d left me last night. The bloody moron. Did he
want
to get torn to pieces by shifters? I’d call him once this job was done, but I was absolutely through with him intervening on my behalf. Not least because the killer was right by shifter territory last night, and if Vance had walked into them…

I generally stayed away from the main entrance to the shifters’ area, which lay three streets away from ours in a neighbourhood with high fences. Walls of metal enclosed the houses beyond, strong enough to keep the shifters from breaking out and terrorising everyone.

A high, padlocked door lay partway down the road. A crowd had gathered around it, and my stomach lurched when I saw the blood.

Someone had killed a shifter right outside their own doors this time? That was tantamount to a declaration of war.

Heads turned as I approached, letting Henry take the lead. If anyone had an issue, he’d be the one to take the fall. I was out of energy to argue.

Six pairs of angry eyes glared at us. “What’s she doing here?”

“Helping with the investigation,” said Henry. “Ivy and Isabel are experienced trackers. They can find where the killer’s hiding.”

“Er… not exactly,” said Isabel, hesitantly approaching the nearest of the shifters. Like all of them, he was huge and muscular. A tattoo ran down one side of his shaved head, a pattern of symbols etched in black ink. He crossed his arms over his chest, revealing biceps that could probably snap my neck.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Well, what’re you here for?”

“Tracking spells are imprecise,” said Isabel. “I can use one to follow a trail if I have something belonging to the person I’m tracking. Like hair, or blood. If not, I can do a general spell on the area, but it won’t be as strong. In theory, it’ll track the last person who came here, and you guys have walked all over the crime scene.”

Six pairs of eyes flashed. Yikes.

“It’s true,” I said, stepping to her side.

“And just what are
you
doing here? You’re the Mage Lord’s, right?” asked the tattooed man.

“I’m a freelance investigator,” I said. “I specialise in beating the shit out of sick fucks like the killer. Let me through.” I rested my hand on the hilt of my sword, looking the shifter in the eyes rather than at the dead body. I could already tell it was messy. Blood covered the entire area outside the gates, behind where the other shifters stood, and everything was wreathed in green light. Hell.

“You aren’t to come near him,” said the shifter.

“I need access to use a tracking spell,” said Isabel. She was handling this much better than I’d expected. Shifters terrified most people who, unlike me, had a healthy sense of when to run for the hills. “If the killer left traces, the spell should tell me the general direction the killer came from. We might be able to find them.”

The leading shifter’s nostrils flared. “Fine, but you aren’t to touch him.”

Isabel and I exchanged glances that said, who the hell would want to touch a dead body? Isabel already looked faintly nauseated.

“I’ll do it,” I said. “The spell works the same for both of us.”

Isabel passed me the spell with an expression of gratitude. Henry stared out the shifter guy at the front until he moved aside.

Ugh. This body wasn’t intact. Blood spread in a gory halo around… fragments. The man’s arms and legs lay a foot away from his torso, and his neck was almost severed. His chest had been torn open—or blasted with enough impact to tear off his limbs. I stared numbly for a few seconds, too shocked to feel nauseous. Green light clouded the body, bright and angry. I dropped to my knees, the spell shaking in my hands. My skin felt cold and clammy, and I closed my eyes for a moment to clear my head.

The spell activated automatically. More green light spread from the circle to my arms, and images played out behind my eyes. Clear, this time. The trail led…

“They came from half-blood territory.”

“Bastards.”

I jumped, not realising Henry stood right next to me. I turned back to the crumbling circle. Summer magic. Again. But the half-faeries were apparently losing their power.
What the hell’s going on?

“I’ll go and talk to the Chief,” I said to the shifters, aware all eyes were on me. “But this is a criminal with an unusually high amount of magic. No half-blood could have done it.”

Except one with power on the same level as Calder. A shiver danced down my spine.

“How do you know?” asked the tattooed shifter dude.

“I just do. I’ve met the Chief of the half-faeries. He barely had more magic than a troll.” Not strictly true, if the way he’d kicked Vance and me out of his house proved anything. But hey. They didn’t need to know.

“Talk to him,” snarled the shifter. “Bring the killer to justice. It’s on you.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be able to find the killer,” I said. “Bear in mind this kind of power isn’t often seen, and the faeries are damn good at hiding. I’ll ask the Mage Lord, too. Have any of you spoken to a necromancer?”

A ripple of anger spread through the group of shifters. A guy near the gate said, “Neither. They’re all lying scumbags.”

“That, I can agree on,” I said. “But if we call this man’s spirit, he might have seen the killer. It’d help to know what they look like.”

“We don’t do spirit magic on our territory,” said the man flatly. “Not at all. No exceptions.” If he’d been in animal form, his fur would probably have been bristling.

I raised my hands. “Okay. We’ll have to rely on guesswork, then. All I can do is speak to the Chief of the half-faeries. I’ll call my boss.”

“Thought you were freelance,” said the guy. “We don’t want the Mage Lords getting involved, either. And keep your faeries away from our territory.”

Great. I looked for Isabel, but she’d disappeared. “Fine. I’ll come back when I’ve spoken to the Chief, but I honestly don’t think he’ll know anything. He seems to miss things on his own territory all the time.” And that was putting it mildly.

Henry walked up to me as I turned to leave, wondering where in hell Isabel had wandered off to.

“Don’t tell the Mage Lord,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Hello? Murder’s a pretty big deal. It wouldn’t surprise me if he already knew.”

“Then tell him to stay out of this,” said Henry.

“Don’t tell
me
what to do,” I retaliated. “Whatever your issue is, the mages are peacekeepers. They wouldn’t beat me up and lock me underground with two shifters on the verge of the change, for instance.”

Henry’s face flushed. “What happened… shouldn’t have. The two who attacked have been apprehended. The Mage Lord saw to it they won’t be walking again anytime soon.”

“Good,” I snapped, wishing I’d been the one to break their kneecaps. “I’ll help you with this case, but you’ll have to accept I’ll use all my resources if necessary, including the mages. They have access to things I don’t. And the Chief of the half-faeries might be able to help, too.”

“Absolutely not.”

I made an impatient noise. “Come
on,
you must know you’re being ridiculous. Nobody likes the faeries. It’s pretty much a given. But the half-bloods…” What to say? This crap was affecting them, too. They weren’t all murdering scumbags. They were people. Some of them, anyway. Surviving, like the rest of us. Alain, for example. Losing their magic meant losing their lives.

I shoved my own conflicting feelings aside—or tried to. “Look, just let me speak to them. I highly doubt the Chief wants a raging killer loose in the city any more than I do. He’s not prejudiced against shifters.” No more than he was against humans in general, anyway.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “The Sidhe—when they came, they disrupted the energy levels and forced all shifters into their animal forms. Everyone transformed, losing their humanity and reason in the process. The Sidhe cost many lives. It’s not something my people will forgive.”