The Toymaker's Hoard

by Megan Derr

  "You won't lose her too," Cadmus replied. "Whatever is going on, it's likely some lovers' quest or whatnot gotten a touch out of control. We'll figure it out. I am sorry my automaton has played a role."

  Harren covered Cadmus's hand with his free one and looked at him with eyes that burned. "No, Master Tulari. You owe no apologies, least of all to me. I am grateful you've agreed to help."

  "I am appalled you think I'd refuse. Whatever our discord, your children have nothing to do with it."

  Before they could speak further, the driver called out their arrival and Harren was out the door nearly before the carriage managed to come to a jarring halt. Cadmus followed after him, up the stairs and into the house, up to the second floor and down halls until they finally came to an abrupt halt.

  Cadmus's nose immediately burned with the stench of bad magic. "Someone used black magic."

  "Yes, but damned if I know what kind," Sula said from where he was sitting next to Temnis's bed, holding his hand, eyes red and raw, skin ashen. "It's nothing I've encountered before, save there is some sort of binding magic tangled up in it."

  Cadmus went over to the table by the window, where his automaton held pride of place. He touched his fingers to the base and immediately felt the discord of black magic. Not in the automaton itself—he would feel it if anyone tried to corrupt one of his devices—but something inside it. Which meant…

  He tugged the delicate gold chain of the miniature lampshade, and with a muted click the release on the secret chamber gave. He pulled the top up… and there it was. A vial of dark blue glass with bits of twinkling silver deep within. It had been uncorked and likely the contents drunk.

  Reaching into his jacket, Cadmus pulled out the small repair kit he carried by habit and removed a pair of tweezers. He used them to gingerly remove the vial, grasping it by its narrow throat, and took a careful whiff. "This is the problem. You said binding magic?"

  "Yes," Sula said. "My skills lie with flora magic, though, so I don't even know if I've got that much right. The healer didn't recognize it either."

  "Not a very good healer then," Cadmus said. "I smell musk roses, anise, and love-lies-bleeding. Those are all components of a love potion—and not a good one, if I recall correctly. But I am not expert enough to know more than that. I do, however, know someone who can tell us much, much more—and possibly even help Temnis."

  "Yes! Bring them, please!"

  Cadmus strode over to the writing desk in the corner and started writing. "Harren, I would put more officers into finding your daughter. Love spells are usually done two halves make a whole—your daughter is likely missing because she drank a matching potion and has collapsed like him."

  Harren swore and vanished.

  Finishing his letter, Cadmus gave it to the housekeeper fussing in the hall, gripping her shoulder reassuringly. "My friend will be able to help. See this is delivered to Honey Flower House, directly into the hands of Anteros. If he's not there, they're to find him wherever he is."

  "Yes, sir." The housekeeper dipped a hasty curtsy, then ran off nearly as quickly as Harren.

  Picking up the tea tray she'd left forgotten on a table, he carried it into the bedroom and set it on the chest at the foot of the bed. Gambling on the likely tastes of a man who was half faerie, he poured a cup of tea and added lots of cream and sugar.

  He carried it to the bed and offered it. "Here. I know you probably don't feel like eating, but drink this. It will help a little."

  "Thank you," Sula said. "You're far too kind, given how horribly both Harren and I have treated you."

  "I would never refuse to help friends in need, even if I'm cross with one of them," Cadmus replied, going to fix a cup of black tea for himself.

  Sula gave him a weak smile. "I never doubted that, but kindness and good-heartedness should always be acknowledged all the same." He sighed and took a tiny sip of tea. "I see you know how I take my tea."

  "I've never known a faerie that didn't prefer everything they consumed to be made primarily of sugar," Cadmus said, and smiled when that got him a genuine laugh. "Honestly, I should have realized you were half-fae the day we met, when you ruined perfectly good coffee by adding all that cream and sugar to it."

  That got him another smile, though Sula's eyes did not leave his son. A flower was tucked into his hair, some beautiful white blossom with gold and pink tips that Cadmus didn't recognize. "What is that flower?"

  "It's called a Morning Prayer Lily," Sula said. "I created it, crossbred from a few other types of lilies over several years of experimentation. I won an award for it. They have strong healing properties. I get orders for them all the time from various chemists and healers around the city, and even increasingly from outside the city. I've got a waiting list for cuttings."

  "It does seem to be helping," Cadmus said, looking Temnis over carefully. He was nearly the spitting image of Sula, with skin an even paler brown and hair with vibrant red tones arranged in tight, tiny curls that he must have inherited from his mother. "He doesn't look nearly as awful as he should as a victim of a love potion run afoul."

  Sula sighed. "We severely misjudged just how much they care about each other, if they were so determined to be together that they'd resort to a seedy potion to bind themselves to each other. But I seem to be mucking up quite a bit when it comes to romance, hmm?"

  "I wouldn't say that," Cadmus said quietly. He refilled Sula' tea, and then sat at the writing desk, there if needed but otherwise out of the way, so Sula could concentrate wholly on himself and his son.

  He yawned and was nearly about to doze off in his chair, despite the tension and worry, when Sula said softly, "Harren is despondent, you know. Over losing you."

  "I'm right here, hardly lost," Cadmus said irritably. "I wasn't aware one angry spat meant we were no longer lovers." He ignored that he'd been worried about that very thing.

  Sula chuckled softly. "You did sound rather finished, I'll grant him that. He's been absolutely miserable since you stormed out. It's not often he finds someone who will tolerate the demands of his job. Sharon was not fond of his temper either, and… oh, how do the young folk say it now… read him off, that's it. She read him off about it, and he got better. Since her death, he has steadily gotten worse again, and I think of late in particular it's been bad, between that thief they're hunting, Serena and Temnis, and loneliness."

  "You are right here."

  "He's smart about catching murderers and thieves, darling, not so much the rest of life. Though it's true I should have mustered my courage and said something a long time ago. Then again, if I had, perhaps we never would have met you." Sula fussed with the blankets and stroked Temnis's hair. "I am sorry for my part in this mess between us all. It was pathetically obvious to all and sundry that I wanted to kiss you. I should have behaved better. It's not very good manners to become interested in the lover of the man I already love." He sighed. "I sound like something out of the gossip papers."

  "A little bit, but I've been no better," Cadmus said with a sigh of his own. "Perhaps once all of this is concluded, the three of us can properly talk."

  "That was our hope. We were arranging that very thing, after I read him off for behaving so horribly to you, but then Temnis collapsed…"

  Cadmus smiled faintly. "We'll get everything sorted out—reckless children and our foolish selves."

  They lapsed into silence, Cadmus lightly dozing, Sula singing quietly to Temnis. He had a beautiful voice; in happier times, Cadmus would be delighted to listen to him for hours.

  He was jerked awake by the sound of a familiar rushing tread and looked up just as Harren strode into the room. "I have all the officers I can possibly justify looking for her, but she doesn't seem to be anywhere in the city. The last time anyone saw her was a hackney driver who took her to a way station. After that, no one claims to have seen her, despite twenty people being employed at that station." His hands curled and uncurled at his sides, and he looked ready to either scream or collapse.
/>
  Cadmus strode across the room and hugged him. Harren shuddered and wrapped around him, burying his face in Cadmus's hair. "We'll find her. She'll be all right."

  "I appreciate the effort," Harren said, drawing back, "but I know better than most how often those words prove untrue. But I hope you're right, despite the odds."

  "Temnis is holding on, so I'm sure she's much the same wherever she is," Sula said. "Someone found her and took her somewhere safe, and they simply don't know who she is and so can't contact anyone. Have the wizards not been able to help?"

  Harren shook his head. "They said the paths were muddled, like she did something to hide herself. Probably because she knew I'd hunt her down and thrash her within an inch of her life for such stupid, dangerous behavior!" He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let it out slowly. "I—"

  He broke off at the sound of voices in the hallway. A moment later the door pushed open, and a figure appeared on a breath of jasmine and honey flower.

  As ever, Chanda was achingly beautiful, the absolute epitome of an incubus—his white skin was flawless, pale from living a mostly nocturnal life, red hair like glowing embers and dark eyes that would prove to be a rich violet-blue on closer inspection. He was dressed in clothes that were the latest fashion and the finest fabrics, at least as elegant and splendid as the richest duke. He moved with effortless grace, and his smile could warm the coldest room.

  Cadmus had spent many a night at Honey Flower house, simply enjoying conversation and cuddles, sometimes with one of Chanda's 'flowers,' and sometimes with Chanda himself. They were close enough he knew Chanda's real name, when most of the city simply knew him as Anteros.

  He offered his hands as Chanda approached. "It's been a long time, Anteros."

  "Too long, but rumor has it you've wooed our Chief here." He took the offered hands, kissed them, then leaned in to kiss the corner of Cadmus's mouth. Only an incubus could get away with such a greeting. Letting go, he said, "Your note said Lady Imperia is missing, and likely suffering the same as this poor young man." He approached the bed, giving a brief but elegant bow to Sula and Harren. "I can feel foul magic." His eyes fell on the vial Cadmus had set aside, and he picked it up with one gloved hand. He sniffed it delicately, then touched his tongue to the lip. "This was probably sold to them as a pair of potions called True Love's Bond. There's no such thing as true love, not in the storybook sense humans adore so much. This is a snake oil potion, and whoever made it didn't care much for what they threw into the mixture. Some of these components are bad for love potions, and others are poisonous all on their own. Taken together, instead of 'binding true loves together for all time' it simply put them to sleep, a sort of…rebound effect, to keep this already long explanation from getting any longer. The good news: I can fix it. The bad news: I'll have to kiss him. It's how my magic works."

  "I am not going to throw a fit about something as safe as a kiss from an incubus," Sula said. "Never mind the most honorable and reputable incubus in the city."

  Chanda looked startled at the words, then gave Sula a smile that could have melted the coldest heart. "Thank you, my lord. Now if you will step aside for just a moment, I will help your son." Sula did so, and Chanda took up his spot by the bed. Bending over, bracing himself on one hand, he gently cradled Temnis's head with the other and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

  The kiss lasted only a moment, and yet lasted years. But when Chanda drew back, looking tired but pleased, a soft cry filled the room.

  Sula let out a ragged sob and rushed to his son's bedside, cradling him close as Temnis cursed and sputtered and demanded to know what in the world was happening.

  Harren smiled faintly from where he stood off to the side, relief and hope filling his eyes. "Now we just have to find my damnable daughter."

  "Wizards?" Chanda asked.

  "She's done something to elude them."

  Chanda frowned pensively, then hesitantly said, "My lover may be able to help; he can do what wizards and sorcerers can't. But he's a demon."

  "I don't care if he wants to rip my throat out, as long as he brings my daughter home safe first," Harren said, the words harsh and ragged. "I'll do or pay whatever it takes."

  "Generally just being allowed to kill something is all he requires in recompense," Chanda said dryly, and closed his eyes.

  As he opened them a moment later, a beautiful, winsome young man appeared in the room, the shadows seeming to curl around him like an old friend. Behind delicate spectacles, his eyes blazed like the blue heart of a flame, and he radiated so much power and bloodlust that Cadmus recoiled.

  His voice was a purr, though, as he pushed into Chanda's personal space and bit at his lips. "Yes, beloved?"

  "A girl is missing, possibly in danger or worse, felled by a false love potion. She's managed to hide herself from wizards."

  "Like that's difficult," the man said scathingly.

  Chanda's mouth twitched. "So you'll find her?"

  "Do you have something I can use?"

  "Her father should." Chanda pointed, and the demon turned. "Azar, this is Chief Harren Imperia of the Trice City Police. He tolerates my bribing several of his officers. Chief, this is Azar, the personal demon of Prince Fayette and my lover. Azar, play nice."

  "I appreciate your being willing to help me," Harren said, though he didn't approach Azar to shake hands. "Whatever your price, just name it."

  "Oh, dangerous words, I like them," Azar said, drawing closer, chuckling when Harren nearly took a step back before catching himself. "I'm not going to eat you, delightful though it would be to break such a strong spirit, feast on your fear and pain, that sweet despair thrumming through you."

  "Azar, I said play nice."

  Of all the things in the world, Azar pouted. "Fine. Do you have something belonging to her, something she holds precious, that I can take her aura from?"

  Harren reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful silver, pearl, and opal necklace. "This belonged to my wife, Serena's mother. She wore it on our wedding day, and Serena treasures it deeply. But the wizards—"

  "Wizards are piddling children next to me," Azar said. He delicately plucked the necklace from Harren's faintly trembling hand. "Now a drop of your blood. Hers would be better, but yours will suffice."

  Harren drew a knife from his boot and pricked the meat of his palm. Azar touched two fingers to it, then leisurely licked some of it before pressing what remained to the pearls. His eyes flared as his magic worked. "I have her. One moment."

  "What—" But Azar was gone before Harren could finish the question, and he simply sighed and slumped into a nearby chair. "I hate demons."

  Chanda chuckled. "Azar is a bit much, but he's honorable, I promise."

  Harren only nodded wearily.

  They sat in silence for perhaps a minute longer, and then Azar reappeared, Serena in his arms.

  Harren let out a hoarse cry and leapt up, rushing in and taking her as Azar dumped her into his arms. He sank to the ground, cradling her close, crying and trembling.

  Cadmus slipped into the hall, leaning against the wall for a moment as dizziness and exhaustion abruptly washed over him. Strange, but perhaps the combination of poor sleep, rushing about, and sitting around fitfully was finally catching up to him.

  When he felt a bit steadier, he went and found the housekeeper to tell her the good news and request that fresh tea, maybe some soup, be brought up. He'd barely gotten the words out before she was shrieking, hugging him, and then bustling off to probably see the kitchen prepared an entire feast from the look of things.

  Smiling faintly, Cadmus left her to it and headed back upstairs.

  He arrived just as they were settling an awake but sleepy and shaken Serena into bed next to Temnis, who'd drifted back to sleep. Unsurprising, really, given how hard their bodies must have been fighting the foul potion.

  "What do I owe you in recompense, Master Azar?" Harren asked.

  "Yes, we owe you both," Sula said.
/>   "I am not going to charge for saving a life," Chanda said. "All I did was kiss him, really."

  Sula laughed. "I know people in this city who would pay small fortunes for a single kiss from Anteros."

  Chanda rolled his eyes. "Nevertheless, I will not charge for spending all of ten seconds saving someone's life."

  Azar pouted again. "Must we be altruistic?"

  Chanda gave him a look. "I think you'll be just fine."

  That just got him more pouting. "But I was hoping for a murderer. Maybe an abuser."

  Harren gave him a look. "I have a convicted rapist on the execution block. He's scheduled to die next week. Would that suffice?"

  Azar's eyes lit up. "That would be delightful."

  "Come see me tomorrow afternoon, then. I'll make the arrangements and inform the victims. I think they'll be happier with this turn of events, honestly. I certainly won't lose sleep, gods show me mercy."

  "Gods never show mercy; that takes all their fun away," Azar said. "Thank you, Chief."

  "You're a spoiled brat," Chanda said, dragging Azar up against him. "Now let's go and leave them in peace."

  "As you wish," Azar replied, and in the next moment they were gone.

  Cadmus sat down in a nearby chair, willing away the heavy wooziness overtaking him. What was wrong with him? It didn't feel like the potion, and anyway he hadn't touched it.

  Trying to shake it off to deal with later—likely all he needed was sleep—he watched quietly as Sula and Harren fussed over their children. Perhaps he should go. He'd done his part, and the rest was for family. He most certainly wasn't that, and given the tangled mess he'd helped make of things, likely never would be.

  Even if Sula had said that Harren was upset about their fight, and agreed they should all talk. Even if Harren had accepted the comfort and help Cadmus had offered.

  He slipped out into the hallway and dropped onto a plush pink and green striped bench, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes so the world would hold still. What in the world was wrong with him? Had he eaten or drunk something? Perhaps the fumes from the potion were having an adverse effect? He could not think of anything else that would do this.