“Assuming she’s up for the talk,” Quinn said, his expression dark.
Becka rubbed her temples. “Okay, so no magic coins. No Saige. What’s next?”
“You’d asked about the house breakdown of the dead fae,” Quinn reminded her.
“Yeah, that was a bit of late-night inspiration.” Becka looked Quinn over, losing herself for a moment, remembering how nice it had been to fall asleep in his arms. She shook her head. Now was not the time. “How do the magics break down?”
Using a tablet, Quinn put a pie chart graphic up on the wall screen. “This shows the nine fae we’ve identified as dying in the last six months by their magic type.” The chart had two additive and seven transformative types listed. The pie chart included no innate.
“There’s no innate,” Becka stated.
Quinn nodded. “Your hunch was on the mark. None of them had innate abilities.”
Ted kicked his feet up onto the table. “I’m no specialist in arcane fae-touched mumbo-jumbo, so you’ve lost me. What does this mean?”
Becka took a deep breath. “Fae-touched magic is in part defined by the scope of the power. Innate magics only affect the individual. Additive magics add to the natural world but cannot change its nature. Transformative magics can change or modify reality.”
“But what about the fae houses?” Ted asked. “I thought those were the different kinds of magic.”
“They are sometimes synonymous, but no. The houses encapsulate the realms of magic, while the classifications are how those magics express themselves within a given house.”
“How did you learn all this?” Nikkita asked.
“This is basic magic theory. All fae-touched kids are taught it, so we know how to interact with the other houses,” Becka replied.
“Okay, but why does it matter why the dead fae are mostly transformative?” Ted asked.
“I think it’s somehow easier for the Shadow-Dwellers to consume transformative powers,” Becka proposed.
“Easier?” Caeda said. “Or just more attractive and worth the effort?”
“Both?” Quinn replied. “For instance, my innate Oak abilities make me stronger, faster, and I can suss out spoken truths. Compare that with a transformative Hawthorne who can summon and throw fire. If you were looking for big magic gains, you’d likely target Hawthorne, and not me.”
“I get it,” Nikkita replied. “If you’re taking the risk to take down a fae, you’d better make it worth your while.”
Ted turned to Becka. “Your Null power, where does it fall?”
“I’m not sure that’s been sorted out, but I suppose they would rank it transformative.”
“So that’s why you’re a prime target for them. Lucky you?” Nikkita said.
“Uh huh, lucky me. Although I think the larger draw of my gift is that it’s new.” Funny, between finding Alvilda and Saige going missing, Becka had almost forgotten the target on her head that Mimir had painted. All of those FIND ME messages Mimir had left for her were the prelude to her powers being used by the Shadow-Dwellers.
A chill ran down her spine. Becka would have preferred to keep her focus on what she needed to do to protect her friends and family, not worry about her own safety.
A slight headache threatened at the back of her skull. Becka rubbed her neck as she fished out her hot sauce and took a swig before the headache had a chance to get into full swing. “I bet if they knew what a pain this power was, they’d change their minds.”
“What do you mean?” Ted asked. “And why are you drinking hot sauce all by itself? I thought the fae’s delicate palates couldn’t handle spicy foods?”
“I get these headaches from my Null power whenever I’m around magic. Which you know, means it happens daily. The hot sauce is one of the few things that helps.”
“Oof,” Nikkita replied. “You know, I get migraines. Are they like those?”
“I’m not sure.” Becka took another swig, and then put the bottle away. “Could be?”
“You want to try something that’s worked for me? It’s non-prescription, but always does the trick. And, as a fellow headache sufferer, you know I’ve tried about everything,” Nikkita offered.
Becka smiled, surprised but glad for Nikkita’s offer. “Sure. I mean, I’ll try anything at this point.”
Just then Becka’s phone rang, and she picked it up and looked at the caller, hoping it was Saige. But then she remembered Saige didn’t have her phone, and her heart ached with worry.
“Who is it?” Quinn asked.
“It’s the institute. Hold on, it’s likely Dr. Traut.” Becka walked over to the window and answered. “Hello?”
“Am I speaking with a Ms. Becka Rowan?” came a dour-sounding voice.
“This is she. How may I help you?”
“I’m Matilda Leith, senior archivist with the institute’s library. I’m checking to see if you plan to keep your one p.m. appointment with us today?”
Wait, what? Becka remembered putting in a request to view the historical tome dedicated to the Great War in her freshman year. If a viewing was granted, and that was if, it usually took years.
She couldn’t pass up this opportunity, even if it derailed her work for the day.
“Yes, yes, of course I plan to,” Becka replied, checking the clock. It was almost noon, so if she hurried, she could still make it in time.
“Hmm,” Matilda replied. “Well then, I won’t get to take a long lunch, will I?”
“Sorry—” Becka began, but Matilda cut her off.
“I’m kidding, Ms. Rowan. I see you’ve waited some time for this viewing, and I am positive it will be worth your time.”
“Thank you, Ms. Leith. I look forward to seeing you shortly.” Becka hung up the phone and threw her things into her bag.
“Where are you off to?” Quinn asked.
Becka bounced on the balls of her feet, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “I have an appointment with the institute’s library I can’t miss.”
“You have a book appointment?” Caeda asked, head cocked to the side. “This investigation is more important and more time sensitive than any book. Books just wait there, waiting to be read.”
After her years of studying fae history, Becka tried to encapsulate the importance of the tome in mere words. “That’s where you’re wrong. This is the tome of the Great War. It’s not just a book. It’s a symbol for interspecies peace. Hardly anyone gets to see it, and if I pass now, the opportunity won’t come around again.”
Quinn shook his head. “Fine. Go. But hurry back as soon as you’re done and take a guard with you.”
“I’ll go,” Caeda volunteered. “I can’t wait to see a big, smelly old book that’s more interesting than Shadow-Dweller serial killers.”
“Oh, they keep these books in—”
“Save it,” Caeda replied. “Let’s roll.”
Chapter 11
“Are we running anti-luck this week?” Caeda asked. “Or is this an everyday campus occurrence?”
Becka and Caeda had arrived at the Institute of World Politics to discover a defiant, boisterous crowd gathered in protest in the campus forum.
Becka tucked her head and fluffed her hair over the pointy tips of her ears. “Gatherings in the campus forum are pretty regular. Protests? Depends on the week and if it’s a patriotic holiday.”
Caeda did a double-take in her direction. “You think they won’t notice you?”
“My pink hair has thrown them off in the past,” Becka replied.
“Sure, but now you’re dressed in enforcer garb.”
Becka had only worn the all-black uniform for two days, and already it felt so natural she hadn’t even thought about it.
“Even better. Now they can be both upset I’m fae-touched and an enforcer infringing on their precious rights.”
Caeda chuckled.
“Down with Councilwoman Aleana!” came a deep, resonant voice which carried over the background noise of the assembly. The crowd shouted an
d cheered, waves of support rolling through the throng.
One sign held aloft read: “NO REPRESENTATION FOR THE FAE USURPERS!” Another, “FEAR FAE FALSEHOODS.”
She rolled her eyes. Only at a college protest would you find thesaurus-level words and alliteration written on the signs. All the words were spelled correctly, no less.
As much as Becka appreciated civic action, it would be a blessing if the humans could accept their war with the fae-touched was long over. Why, even after 150 years, the victors could still harbor such animosity baffled Becka. What were they fighting against? The mere existence of fae? The paltry human rights the fae were afforded? Did they somehow imagine that after all of these years the fae would rise up and defeat them?
Becka shook her head at the concept. Year after year protests like these endured. It was a sign of how much work remained to bring acceptance between all species.
Becka glanced at the people moving around the forum. Few stood along their path. Their destination, the library, was located across campus, just now coming into view. Because of the crowd, Caeda walked a few paces behind her. Becka let out her breath, long and slow. Almost there. She hoped they could just get across this square without drawing attention.
The Shadow-Dwellers had been here yesterday planting Alvilda’s body, and they knew Becka was on campus regularly. Did they know about today’s appointment too?
The crowd cheered again, and Becka startled as someone grabbed her by the arm, her heart rate spiking in response. Spinning reflexively, Becka spun around and broke his hold on her, but she knocked into another student, causing people to pause and take notice.
Score one for the usefulness of that self-defense classes she’d taken. Deduct two points for making a scene when she needed not to.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” came the deep baritone voice of the man who’d grabbed her. The sharp cut of the man’s jawline exaggerated his scowl. By the way he was rubbing the hand she’d dislodged, he wasn’t likely to back down.
Becka took a step back, and Caeda moved alongside her.
“We’re on our way to the library. Step aside,” Caeda ordered.
His righteous anger was not appeased. “What fae would be stupid enough to be walking around during our protest?” he snarled and then pointed an accusatory finger at them. “You’re here to stop us!”
Becka fished in her pocket for her enforcer ID, or her institute ID. Either would do. Caeda was quicker on the draw, flashing her enforcer ID in his face, and then fanning it back and forth so his friends all got a good look. They shied away from Caeda’s gesture, ducking in unison. Had they been expecting some magical trick, like a fireball? After a moment, they recovered, appearing confused.
“Just move aside or I’ll cite you for interfering with enforcer business,” Caeda snapped back.
A woman strutted forward, pointing at them. “So what? This is a human demonstration. You’re not allowed to interfere, as we aren’t violating laws. We have a permit.”
If she had a dollar for every time a human had taken umbrage to her existence in their world, Becka would spend it on a billboard with the message “Move on, already!” with flashing lights.
Becka took a deep breath and held up her hands defensively, trying to look as compliant as possible. “We’re just on our way to the library.”
“Doesn’t matter. You should have gone the long way around and stayed out of human business,” he shot back.
Just then, Becka noticed the delicate silver chain hanging around his neck and the medallion of intricately woven silver wire containing a single faceted citrine in the center. It looked just like the binding magic of the Enduring Guild.
“How’s that asthma medallion working out for you?” Becka asked him.
His cheeks flushed, and his fingers flew up to the necklace, as if worried someone might try to take it. His friends looked at the medallion, and then him. Was she imagining a few disapproving frowns turned his way?
“It works great,” he replied. “Just like it’s supposed to. You people need to focus more on making amends like this,” he shook the medallion at her, “than demanding species civil rights.”
Becka wanted to point out that most fae production centered on support services to humans and societal infrastructure, that asking for fair and equal treatment for any group wasn’t unreasonable, or that the Great War was over ages ago and it was time to move on.
“Why can’t we have both fae civil rights and supportive production? Fae seek to live in peace with both humans and shifters, and we make consistent efforts to create tools to improve everyone’s quality of life.”
He shook his head. “I think we both know the fae miss the old days. Miss being in power over humans. It’s only a matter of time.”
Becka opened her mouth to argue, but Caeda touched her elbow. “We need to keep moving. The last thing we want is this crowd turning on us.” Her voice was low, but loud enough for Becka’s fae hearing.
Becka looked around and noticed their conversation was already drawing more spectators, and just like she’d sworn not to do, she and Caeda were getting drawn into the protest. She took a moment and exhaled a long, slow breath.
“We’re leaving,” Becka replied, and then turned and marched away double-time. A moment later she heard the pounding of Caeda’s shoes behind her.
Thankfully, the quick-tempered students let the argument go and didn’t follow them.
They made it a few hundred feet before Becka heard her name.
“Becka!” came Tawny’s friendly holler. “I thought that was you! No one else has your bubblegum-pink and blonde hair!”
Becka plastered on a smile but looked around to see if anyone had noticed them. The throng milled about, caught up in conversations and hoisting signs.
Becka kept her voice low. “Hey, Tawny!”
“It’s been forever.” Tawny threaded her arm through Becka’s. “I didn’t expect to see you out here, but good for you! Oh wow, I love your new ear piercings! I wish I was that brave.”
They’d met during her sophomore year at the institute, and despite Tawny’s ebullient enthusiasm, Becka had appreciated her open-mindedness towards her sole fae classmate over the subsequent years. Most likely Tawny didn’t realize Becka hadn’t enrolled this year.
“Thanks. But I’m not here for this.” Becka gave a single nod towards the crowd. “I’m headed to the library. I didn’t even know there was an event.”
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have braved the crowd.
It wasn’t an entirely honest sentiment. When the institute archivist had called with the appointment time, Becka knew she had to come to campus ASAP. If Becka didn’t show up, she’d lose her place in line.
“Of course there’s a protest, silly! The posters were up all week; I’m sure you saw them.” Tawny had a bright sparkle in her eyes and an infectious enthusiasm. “There are another dozen-ish speakers and then we marched around campus and down Broadway and back. I think we’re waiting for the next speaker. You should hang around!”
There was a protest on campus almost every weekend, but they didn’t always revolve around the fae. Sometimes humans got up in arms over the shifters too. Or water quality. Becka had ignored the signs for events, but she hadn’t been around enough lately to notice. The events were rarely fae-friendly.
“You’ll be fine,” Tawny replied, dragging on her arm. “Come stand with Scott and me.”
Becka dug in her heels, shaking her head. “You know I can’t. Fae-touched cannot attend protests.” The prohibition on large gatherings of fae and protests by fae within city limits was an old law from the post-war years meant to quell potential uprisings. It had remained on the books because there’d been little human support to abolish it.
She glanced around, finding Caeda a few steps back, a bemused smirk on her face which wordlessly said, “You got this, champ.”
Tawny rolled her eyes. “But it’s not like you’re fae, not anymore.”
Becka didn’t want to take the time to explain her current circumstances. The golden sheen to her eyes and pointed ears made it impossible for humans to mistake her for what she was, but somehow Tawny had always seen through that. The black outfit should have alerted anyone to her being an enforcer, but all Tawny saw was her friend.
“C’mon,” Tawny pressed. “Consider it a mainstreaming opportunity!”
She loved Tawny’s sweet nature, but the gal was over-optimistic to a fault. Becka leaned in and gave her a hug. “I’ve got to get to the library. My hold is finally in.”
“Oh!” Tawny pulled away, eyes wide and her mouth forming a big O. “Is this the big one?”
Becka nodded, a flutter of excitement gripping her stomach. “I’ll catch up with you later. Okay?”
“Sure thing. Oh! There’s a party Dominick is throwing later. I’ll message you!” Tawny called after her, phone already in hand, typing out the message.
Becka smiled and nodded back over her shoulder, but she had no intention of attending the assuredly rowdy gathering. But for a moment, it transported her back to her life before her Null gift. Before she was the heir to House Rowan. And before the Shadow-Dwellers hunted her.
Under a year ago she’d been a mainstreamed student with a simple but rewarding life ahead of her. Could Becka get back to a place where attending parties would be something she could do? Heck, even having an open schedule sounded a bit like bliss. Did that plant club she liked even still exist?
If she lived through hunting down Mimir, she’d find out.
Focusing on her trek across the open quad, Becka checked that Caeda was still behind her, and then quickened her steps.
Despite her renewed focus, she couldn’t help but notice a student whose beauty momentarily took Becka’s breath away. The perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfectly tailored clothes… everything on point. Only when the girl glanced in their general direction with a perfect sparkle in her eye did realization dawn on Becka. None of that perfection was real.
She had bought it to order with fae magic. To Becka’s chagrin, no one else appeared to notice anything but the woman’s resplendent beauty.
Shadow Underground: A Romantic Urban Fantasy Murder Mystery (The Shadow Series Book 3) Page 9