Ashes of Raging Water

by Michael J Allen

“Is everything all right, Viviane?” Caelum asked.

  “I think so...” She smirked, deep blue eyes glistening. “I mean, he’s not likely to fire me.”

  Caelum laughed. “Charming.”

  She led him back up the table. Mister Heffernan turned away from a group of bluebloods as Caelum approached. He’d been intimidating seated, but on his feet, Dunham Heffernan loomed over Caelum—a huge, powerful man with an even more powerful voice.

  “Thank you, Viviane.” He directed his basso toward Caelum, extending a massive hand. “Mister Kite, a jewel for your already prestigious crown. I daren’t call it a crown jewel lest you stop spearheading these research projects for me.”

  “Thank you, Mister Heffernan—”

  The curl of a Celtic woad tattoo peaked from the collar of the CEO’s tuxedo shirt. “Dunham, please.”

  “No risk there, Dunham. It’s an honor, but really I just enjoy spending your money to help people.”

  Dunham laughed and slapped Caelum’s back. “I’ve had my eye on you for some time, son. Keep up the good work and maybe we’ll get to work more closely together—help all those that deserve it.”

  Caelum brightened.

  “I look forward to seeing you at the picnic. Feel free to invite all your friends. The more the merrier,” Dunham said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Mister Heffernan,” Viviane said. “The mayor would like a word.”

  “Duty calls,” Dunham said. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Caelum nodded.

  Huh, rich philanthropist with a heart the size of his massive chest. Creator, I love this job. Why couldn’t we have someone like Dunham in charge instead of stick-it-up-my-Vitae?

  A call interrupted him before Caelum could dwell too long on replacing his Shieldheart with the CEO of Circlestone. “Quayla? Is everything all right?”

  “I’m going back to Howell Mill tonight,” Quayla said. “I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Does Vitae know about this?”

  “No, and he won’t unless you intend to tell him.”

  “He’ll never stop crowing if you get caught out there again.”

  “That’s why you’re coming. Besides, I don’t plan to get caught.”

  “Doubt you planned to die last time either,” Caelum said.

  “Stop being a prick, are you going to help me or not?”

  “Well, with that kind of respect how can I say ‘no’...wait...just a second, no.” Caelum pantomimed, wiping sweat from his brow. “Wow, that was rough.”

  “Please, Caelum.”

  “Why are we going back to a crime scene while the cops are probably watching?”

  “I need to figure out why the faeries are attacking shelters. I caught a glimpse of something strange but didn’t get a chance to investigate—horde of grendlings stabbing me over and over.”

  “Fine, but we tell Anima too.”

  Quayla

  I trudged up the stairs to my apartment. It’d been a hard day. Judith caught another discrepancy with my appearance—not that she cared. I’d run down a few contacts, but none of my faerie informants admitted having any knowledge of the attacks or their purpose. Mrs. Cox’s voice filtered through the old wall, singing the same opera that always seemed to proceed a glut of baked goods.

  I stepped into my apartment, leaned back against the door and took a long, slow breath. I reached for my seeds, finding several absent but none any more tainted than expected.

  Going to have to track down Ralein soon.

  My purse went onto the table by the door, a manila envelope poking out of its top containing my new IDs.

  Still need to clean the old pictures out...after I talk to Dylan.

  I pushed away the dreaded task for another more dreadful.

  Might as well get started.

  I stripped, leaving my clothes where they landed on my bedroom floor and dragged the rolling TV cart opposite the bookcase that hid my nest. I flipped through the romantic dramas shelved together rather than with the other blu-rays shelved in the living room.

  I opened the book case, fetched a special silver-coated metal grate and placed it over my nest. I stopped, looking down at the almost depleted pool of my essence. I’d been taught other, faster ways to refill the basin.

  I shivered at the unpleasant possibilities.

  No, thanks. I’ll do it this way.

  I slid a movie into the player. The opening notes of Titanic filled my room with impending sadness.

  I stepped naked into my nest and settled into a seated position atop the grate. Kate Winslet appeared on the screen and the tears started down my cheeks. “I hate this old movie.”

  Quayla

  I pulled a U-turn and slid my Jahammer in next to Caelum’s motorcycle. Caelum stepped out of shadow dressed all in leather and shook his head as I removed my helmet. “You’re one of a kind, little sister.”

  “Don’t ‘little sister’ me. You’re younger than I am.”

  He shrugged.

  “Where’s your helmet?”

  “You dragged me out here so we can commit a B&E and you’re going to lecture me about traffic laws?”

  “Considering how people drive in Atlanta, you need a helmet.”

  “My nest is full,” Caelum said. “Besides, what’s the point of having a motorcycle only to wall off the wind from your hair?”

  “You could still enjoy the wind and be a lot safer in a convertible,” I dismounted.

  “And wait in traffic? I thought water liked to keep it moving.”

  “Water isn’t as restless as wind,” I said. “Can we do this?

  “Not restless, huh?”

  We marched up the block across the street from the humane society complex. I reached into my essence, squeezing like I was going to transmogrify.

  “You look kind of constipated,” Caelum said.

  I released my essence, dark water rippling outward to cover my skin head to toe. As soon as my essence settled, I punched him in the shoulder.

  “Hey, take it easy on the leather.”

  “Why’re you being such a pain tonight?”

  “Besides the date I had to cut short so I could get slapped around by a moody walking puddle?”

  “You’re just jealous.”

  His tone sobered. “I am. You have no idea how lucky you are.”

  “Dylan’s the best.”

  “No, well, maybe, but I meant the flexibility of your element.”

  I stopped, watching him for a moment. “Each element has its own brand of magic. None of us can bend the path of an arrow or a bullet, and Ignis is the only other shield who can compete with you when it comes to elemental destruction.”

  He eyed me in silence several minutes. “How shall we do this?”

  I cradled a hand folded into a pantomimed gun in my opposite. I adopted a Russian accent. “With style, Boris.”

  Caelum raised a single brow. “Like moose and squirrel? I thought their names were Rocky and Bullwinkle.”

  I hit him again, and Caelum laughed.

  “You’re all masked up, and you’ve been here once, so you scout the cameras,” Caelum said. “I’ll take out the power.”

  “If we’re killing the power why do we care about the cameras?”

  “Just in case they have some kind of power backup.”

  We jogged across the street, splitting up on the far sidewalk. I edged onto the property, slipping from shadow to shadow. The scent of cooped-up animals twisted a tiny knife in my gut, but only faint taint added to my discomfort. A slow, methodical circle failed to discover any external cameras, but I did spot a red light from the inside camera watching the front door that had captured me when I’d tried to stop the grendling assault.

  What I wouldn’t give to be able to throw a little fire bolt like Ignis.

  I pushed my essence through one of my hilts and waited. A boom like a shotgun blast shattered the night. Barking followed a moment later—a mix of excitement and challenge—as streetli
ghts went dark and the red light on the camera died.

  I slid my blade through the replacement deadbolt and pulled.

  The door didn’t budge.

  I stepped sideways, squinting through the glass into the darkened entrance.

  A wind swirled my face as an early warning before Caelum jogged up to meet me. “Problem?”

  “Door’s not opening.”

  “Good thing too,” he gestured at pinpricks of light reflecting off glass on the counter. “Alarm’s still on.”

  “Did you happen to see an alarm box?”

  “No, it’s probably cellular.”

  “Do you think it calls home when it loses power?”

  “Only way to know is drop back and watch.”

  I gestured to the cut lock. “Pretty obvious we were here.”

  “Sure, if they do more than a drive-by.”

  I chewed my lip. There was a distinct possibility a patrol cruiser might make only a cursory inspection.

  “I’ll move the bikes,” Caelum jogged away, leaving me standing before locked doors and slowly quieting barks.

  I scanned the area, assessing each shadow. A deep, dark corner seemed the best hiding place. I stepped toward it when a prickle rippled my skin.

  I retreated to a shadowy vantage across the street, the sound of my Jahammer fading up the side street as I waited and waited. A police cruiser turned onto the street with lazy care. It pulled into the circular drive. It stopped, sitting under the awning for several minutes.

  The car door opened. An old, thick-bodied officer circled the car. His head swept left and right, following the patch of light cast by his flashlight. The beam stopped in the dark corner I’d considered.

  Too close.

  He approached the door, speaking into a radio. I held my breath as he tried the door. He flashed the beam into the humane society for another few minutes before meandering back to his car. The cruiser drove away a few minutes later.

  “Close one.”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Curse it, Caelum. Don’t do that!”

  He chuckled. “That alarm called home when it lost power, but without power to the other sensors we should be good now.”

  We crossed together, heading straight for the door. My blade slid along the top and bottom of the door, cutting resistance four times. I cringed as I pushed open the door, but no chirp signaled the door opening.

  Caelum sidelined to the alarm control. Sparks played about the fingers he used to caress the console. Its LED display went dark.

  “Why did you do that?” I hurried toward the sounds of barking. “What if it calls the cops back out here?”

  “Guess you’d better hurry th—hells that’s a big cat.”

  I searched the surrounding floor, but didn’t see a cat anywhere.

  “She’s got to feed that monster actual lasagna.”

  I followed his attention to the orange tabby picture on the counter that had distracted me the morning of the incursion. My lips turned down in a frown for the cat owner’s loss.

  Black ribbon’s gone, label too, but why would they remove those? What’s the point in memorializing a passed animal with no indication its dead?

  “Weren’t we in a hurry?” Caelum asked.

  “You’re the one that distracted me.” I marched away turned toward the kennels.

  Caelum adopted a decent impression of Vitae. “If you were a more dedicated shield, you would not allow yourself to be swayed from your mission.”

  I made talking gestures over one shoulder with an empty hand. I had to cut through the lock sealing off the kennels. It hadn’t been locked the last time, but the grendlings had already been inside the humane society.

  Animal scent hit me almost as hard as the countless barks and wagging tails. Dogs in all shapes and sizes looked up at me with soul wrenching eyes. Some jumped at their cages, begging for attention.

  I wish I had the time to pet them all.

  I navigated through the kennels to where I’d destroyed the Arch and lit the flashlight on my phone. Orange chalk colored the floor in a vaguely round smear. I bent closer.

  “That picture of Garfield reeks of taint,” Caelum said.

  I glanced up frowning. “I didn’t smell it.”

  Caelum tapped his nose. His attention shifted to the chalk stain. He frowned. “Is that a sigil?”

  I followed his gaze. Squinting, I just made out faint lines of a poorly-executed sigil. Paw smudges and water damage obscured the inexpert marks.

  “Amateurish at best.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Even grendlings draw better than this.”

  “I saw a bucket of sidewalk chalk at the desk,” Caelum said.

  “So, someone who works here drew the initial runes to open the way for the Wyldfae.” The dots arranged themselves into a picture. “We need to chat with the dead cat’s owner.”

  “Not sure overfeeding a cat is really in our jurisdiction.”

  “First time I came through, the picture said the cat was dead.”

  “Maybe they removed that to avoid discouraging potential adoptions.”

  “You smelled taint. I’m betting she’s Fae Kissed.”

  “How do you propose we find her?” Caelum asked. “Normally, I’d suggest checking the personnel files, but they probably don’t have paper copies. Can’t check the computers with the power off, and we need to clear out before more cops arrive.”

  “All right, let’s go,” I said. “I’ll just have to follow her home.”

  “Talk to Ignis or Terrance. Better they stake her out, so you’re not seen.”

  “A smarter plan,” Ignis said.

  Both Caelum and I whipped around.

  Ignis held up a portable police scanner. “It is time to go.”

  11: Hard Choices

  Quayla

  After avoiding police attention, Ignis instructed Caelum and me to head home. He decreed he’d track down the possibly Fae Kissed woman, and that I wasn’t to risk myself by staking her out near the Howell Mill Humane Society.

  This is my tip. It isn’t Ignis’s investigation.

  A trip to Walmart acquired several drones that fed video to my phone. I set up near the humane society at the Westside Cultural Arts Center, drones positioned to watch street access. When the humane society worker arrived, I marked her car with an essence seed and headed back to Ponds De Leon.

  When I felt the seed move, I closed up the florist shop and felt my way to the woman’s house. The trail led me to an apartment complex and a litany of curses.

  If I’d just risked following her, I could’ve figure out her apartment or at least the right floor.

  I parked my Jahammer in an out of the way corner and approached the complex. I caught a whiff of taint, but it proved to be sulfur from the sprinkler system failing to keep the bushes from dying a slow death. Real taint met me inside the complex foyer.

  Concentrated taint in the elevator sent my head spinning and gut roiling. Thick stench masked any chance to discern which floor the woman chose.

  I sighed.

  Only one way to do this.

  Starting on the first floor, I strode up one hall, sniffing my way past door after door. A brown Berber carpet worn thinner along the center ran the interior hallway under bright LED bulbs that drove away all shadows. Small, recently dusted portraits dotted the hall.

  When I finished that level, I climbed the stairs and went door to door again. Tension knotted my shoulders tighter and tighter the longer I searched. Alone, I had no way to ensure the woman didn’t walk right out the front door while I tried to find her.

  Eventually, I found an apartment that reeked of faerie.

  More than one Fae Kissed seemed an unlikely occurrence, but I couldn’t risk making an assumption that would end up causing a scene. When none of the other apartments proved contaminated, I went back to the door, raised my hand to knock and froze.

  How should I approach this?

  A cat’s low growl escaped the apart
ment door followed at once by an indulgent soprano. “Are you hungry again, Bootsie? Give me a minute.”

  I decided on a course, drew a Karambit, hid it behind my back and wrapped on the door with my other hand.

  “Just a minute.”

  The door opened a few inches, a bronze chain running across the short woman’s forehead. Taint wafted out through the gap. “Hello?”

  “Good evening.”

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here about the deal.”

  The woman’s brows pinched. “Deal?”

  “The deal you made for Bootsie?”

  The cat hissed in the background.

  “I-I’m not sure w-what you’re talking about.”

  I tightened my grip on the Karambit behind my back, pushing essence into the hilt in case I had to cut the chain. “Your cat, walking around no longer dead.”

  All color washed out of the woman’s face.

  “I know you made a deal to bring Bootsie back. If you don’t let me in and tell me the who’s and how’s, I’ll report you to,” I put as much emphasis as I could into my voice, “the authorities.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. She scrambled to remove the chain and yanked open the door. “No, please don’t do that. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  Disappointment warred with triumph.

  I emptied and sheathed my hilt before stepping into a world built for a cat. Freestanding play trees and scratching posts led to carpet-covered shelves mounted to walls. A mug tree sat on the breakfast bar festooned with cat collars. Where the space hadn’t been built to accommodate a cat, pictures of the woman and her tabby covered nearly every surface. Despite inhaling deeply, I failed to scent a litter box beneath the taint.

  “How did you find out?” the woman asked.

  “That’s not important. Tell me how it happened and who approached you.”

  She looked at her hands, a blush working into her cheeks. “I thought at first he was interested in me. He was so handsome. I should’ve known a man like that wouldn’t be interested in a woman sobbing into her soup.”

  “Where was this?”

  “Sweet Tomatoes, out on the perimeter.”

  “Did he openly offer to bring your cat back to life?”

  She shook her head. She scooped up the tabby, clutching the cat to her chest like a life preserver. Tears streamed down her face. “He sat down with me, asked me what was wrong, and he really listened.