Becka nodded, reassured that they were working on this together as a team.
Hamish walked up to them. “What’s next?”
Quinn switched subjects. “What correlations have we found among the deceased?”
The door flung open and a muttering Chief Elowen strode into the room, a couple of papers in her hand. She reached the table, placed her hands on her hips, and looked at each of them.
“Well?” she demanded.
“How’s it going, Chief?” Quinn asked.
Elowen pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, and then looked around the table again, her composure hanging by a thread. “I told you two days ago to step up your efforts, find the Shadow-Dweller club and this Mimir character, and to do it as under-the-radar as possible.”
“That’s correct, Chief,” Quinn answered.
“As of this morning, messages are pouring in from concerned citizens about the dead bodies at Confluence Park.”
“No one wrote letters over the dead fae we found in dark alleys,” Ted quipped.
“That’s right. But when they happen in a jogger’s park, it’s more visible,” Elowen replied. “Visible is bad for all of us.” She paused, looking at each of them to drive the point home. “Plus,” she shook her hand, which contained two letters, “both Brent Douglas, Saige’s boss, and the Duchess Rowan, wrote to me today.”
Saige groaned and rocked back on her heels. “Of course he’s following the news. What did Brent say?”
“He says he hopes you’re enjoying your leave of absence and taking the time you need to heal up. He’d also like a firm date when you plan to return to work, strongly suggesting that he’d like to see you back by the end of the month. I assume he means back with your team at House Rowan, and not working surreptitiously with the bureau here in the city.”
Saige grimaced. “Yeah, that sounds like him. I’ll send him a text later today.”
“You might want to call,” Elowen suggested. “For your part, Becka, the duchess has given us three days to ‘remedy’ the ‘unstable situation’ or she’s going to recall you back home.”
“No!” Becka exclaimed. She glanced at Quinn and knew he was thinking the same thing. If Maura recalled her home, she’d never catch Mimir. Never find out what was happening with the Great War history being altered. Never leave House Rowan again, if Maura had anything to say about it. And she’d never work with Dr. Traut at the institute again.
Her time with Quinn would be over.
“She can’t do that.”
“She certainly can on grounds her lineage is threatened or some such. So, enlighten me with your progress, because we need to get this case closed, stat.”
The team ran her through their findings, all the while Elowen’s frown deepened. Finally, she held up a hand to stop them.
“I’m not being negative here, but you need to stop screwing around and move faster. Mimir is escalating, and I assume the body count will rise accordingly. Think about what you need to make it happen, and I’ll do my best to keep the department’s fund and resources flowing. It’s time to come together as a team and outthink them.”
“I’ll have a list of requested resources to your desk in two hours,” Quinn replied.
“That’s right you will. Carry on.” Elowen spun and stomped out of the room, muttering under her breath.
“You heard her,” Caeda said. “Let’s brainstorm.”
The team launched into a discussion on overtime requests, beat officer headcount, and research associates, which lost Becka quickly in the details. Frustrated over being shut down, Becka’s anxiety spun her thoughts far away from the present moment. She needed to speed things up. The alternative could mean even more dead. More like Saige. Or anyone close to her. Further emboldened by Elowen’s rallying speech, Becka decided to act.
She shot out of her chair, grabbed her backpack, and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Quinn demanded.
Becka stopped and glanced back. Everyone was still seated, but they glanced back and forth between the two of them, no doubt wondering what this was all about.
“I’m off to the restroom.”
Quinn took a deep breath, but then nodded. “Caeda, could you go with her?”
“It’s just down the hall,” Caeda replied, gesturing with her hand as if he didn’t know the way or how far it was.
Becka paused by the evidence table near the door, looking over the assorted items. The totem Mimir had used to communicate with her caught her eye. Could she learn something more from the totem?
“Becka is Mimir’s primary target,” Quinn continued. “If we didn’t need her help, I’d put her in protective custody. We’ve been looking for the root of the Shadow-Dwellers for years, and you can bet if they get Becka and her powers, they might pick up, move, and disappear forever. So, yes, Caeda, monitor her, even to the bathroom. She’s not to be left unattended.”
Caeda inclined her head and joined Becka by the door.
“I’ll go too,” Saige said, a smile on her face. “The women’s room can be brutal. It’s best to lay siege to it in numbers.”
“I can’t wait to add ‘bathroom matron’ to my resume,” Caeda quipped under her breath.
“Hey, I have an idea.” Becka swiped the evidence bag containing the totem, holding it up for everyone to see.
Quinn crossed his arms. “I’m already against this plan.”
“Hear me out,” Becka replied. “This was created by Mimir, and while I was the victim of it, I haven’t had the chance to look at it. Magically.”
Quinn’s jaw ticked. “Go on.”
“I want to trace the magic and see what I can learn. I might surface some clues.”
“Or you might lead her right to you.”
Becka dropped her hand with the bag to her side. “Which would be bad why? Another conversation a la projection is another opportunity to learn more of her plans.”
“It’s risky,” Quinn replied. “You don’t know what else Mimir packed into that little bundle of twigs.”
“I agree, it is risky, but Elowen just said we needed to push harder. If we don’t make progress soon, I may not be here to help. I know what I’m in for this time, and if I get in trouble, I’ll Null the totem.”
“Fine. Go, before I change my mind. And you two, stay close to her.”
Becka scooted out the door, Caeda and Saige right behind her.
“What’s your plan with the totem?” Saige asked. “Specifically?”
“My plan is evolving,” Becka answered. They passed the bathroom, but Becka kept walking. A dull throb grew at the base of her skull from the proximity of the totem’s magic.
“Want to tell me where we’re going?” Caeda asked.
“We’re headed to an interview room because I need to get away from watching models of people walking the streets downtown. I need to do something useful. Not that Nikkita’s work isn’t useful, but me watching her work is not only low value, it’s exhausting.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t snore,” Saige said, then let out a short laugh.
Becka opened the interview room door and ushered the two in after her, checking to see if anyone had taken notice of them. She definitely didn’t want to be interrupted. It didn’t seem so, so she closed the door and switched the window to opaque as she’d seen Quinn do earlier.
“I do not snore!” Becka exclaimed, tossing the evidence bag down on the table.
Saige raised a brow and shook her head, whispering “denial” under her breath.
“I need to be doing something. Every day that passes means another potential dead body. I think you two feel the same?” Becka asked, and they both nodded.
There was curiosity in Caeda’s gaze. “Tell me more about this totem. I saw it show up in evidence this morning. There was a note that someone had tucked it into your bag as we moved through the protest?”
“It must have been,” Becka said. “Matilda didn’t go anywhere near my bag while
we were in the library. Plus, my head started aching before we reached the building.”
Caeda’s brow furrowed. “What happened in the car?”
Becka recounted her discussion with Mimir to the women. Both took a precautionary step back from the bag in her hands when she described how Mimir had opened a portal during her ride home.
“So what’s your goal here?” Saige asked.
“I want to study the magic Mimir used to create this totem,” Becka replied. “I’ve never seen magical portals before yesterday, and I’m wondering if Mimir uses the same type of magic for the door to the Shadow-Dweller club.”
“You think you could identify it in the wild?” Caeda asked.
“Exactly. Maybe.” Becka planted her hands on her hips. “This feels like my kind of useful.”
“Hold on,” Saige said. “Can Mimir use this totem to open a portal again?”
Good question.
“The last time, Mimir had me followed and knew when I was alone. I don’t think she’d appear when she can’t be sure if I’m alone.”
“That’s a big if,” Saige replied.
“Well, if I do trigger it active, I can just use my magic to Null it. It would destroy the totem, but we’d all be safe.”
Caeda and Saige shared a dubious look.
“You described this magic as a way for her to talk to you. Was she able to touch you?” Caeda asked.
“No, not at all. I had the impression the effect was like a magical video call.”
“It doesn’t sound like too much of a risk,” Saige replied. “We need to do all we can to find and stop Mimir. I say go for it, and if you need help, we’re right here.”
“Aren’t you the one who went offline and tried to get a job working at a Shadow-Dweller club?” Caeda asked, and Saige just shrugged. “I’m not going with your endorsement, but I also have a hard time seeing how the equivalent of a phone call could be dangerous.” She crossed her arms, gripping her biceps, her expression pensive. “Okay, but please do not make me regret this.”
“I’m sure this will be worth it,” Becka said, sighing with relief that Caeda and Saige weren’t dragging her back to the meeting room. She pulled a bottle of hot sauce out of the side pocket and then tossed her backpack down on the table. Becka took a significant preventative swig and then sat down facing the totem.
She closed her eyes and took a few moments to calm and center herself. Collecting her intention around her like a fisherman's net, Becka leaned close to the table, holding her hands out over the totem. Although the tiny figure was woven out of simply ivy and yew, the layers of magic imbued in it were far more complex. Moving with care, as she didn’t want to destroy the magic before she was finished with it, Becka ran her hands back and forth over the item, taking in the weft and warp of the enchantments.
Becka immediately recognized threads of illusionist magic, which had become familiar to her while studying under her Aunt Astrid’s tutelage. The others were more difficult, as they were combined and interwoven with deft skill. She might be a budding student of magical classifications, but the complexity in this totem was beyond what she’d dealt with before. It reminded her of something she had studied at length: the Shadow-Dweller glyph book and Mimir’s journals. The feel of the combined magics was very similar, except this totem radiated potency, unlike the books.
“Everything going okay over there?” Saige asked, her voice breaking through Becka’s reverie.
She opened her eyes. “I’m fine. These actually remind me of the Shadow-Dweller books I’ve been studying.”
“Cool,” Saige replied.
Becka focused back on the magic, drawn in by what she could only describe as a shifting vortex of enchantments. She mentally traced out the pattern within the interlocking layers, impressed at the complexity of the feat. As she traced out the patterns, Becka discovered a point where all the threads stopped. It was like a braided loaf of dough, where the baker had pinched together and then folded under the ends of the separate strands, binding them all together.
Curious, Becka directed her focus into that meeting point, wanting to understand the magic. Understand Mimir.
In the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Chapter 19
Becka’s heartbeat spiked so fast, she would have sworn the rushing in her ears was Niagara Falls. However, she was nowhere she recognized and with each passing heartbeat this new reality came jarringly clearer and clearer into focus.
A moment ago, Becka was in the interview room, poised over the totem, while Caeda and Saige watched from behind her. She still perched at the edge of her seat, hands in the air in front of her. But instead of a totem beneath them, there was a drink with an umbrella in it.
Could a person run out of adrenaline? How much was available, anyway?
Becka took a deep breath. Surely this was a mere illusion? Something she’d accidentally triggered via the totem? She lowered her hands, expecting to feel the totem and table under her hands, but all she touched was the pink umbrella poking out of the… Was that a mojito?
So, it wasn’t an illusion. Or was it? Despite Becka’s growing expertise and near-daily practice examining magic, she couldn’t quite be sure. If it was an illusion, it was crafted with great skill and a light touch.
Whatever it was, luxurious, lush surroundings surrounded Becka. Between the red leather couch she was sitting on, the ceiling-to-floor black velvet curtains hanging against rough brick walls, and the painted concrete floors covered in arcane symbols, the aesthetic was both opulent and stark. A light haze hung in the air, perhaps explaining the hefty scent of incense.
Fae-touched, human, and even an odd shifter moved in the surrounding space, although no one appeared to take any notice of Becka’s sudden arrival. She couldn’t make out any conversation, but there was laughter and rowdy tones to the interactions. If she didn’t know any better, Becka might have thought it had transported her to a fancy shindig with cocktails and amuse-bouchés.
The fae hanging limp on the St. Andrews cross in the corner, blood trailing down his bare chest, told another story.
“Hello there.” Mimir appeared before her and greeted her in a gold, faux-leather jumpsuit which fit her like a second skin.
With an outfit like that, no one in this building would doubt who was in charge. With Mimir appearing out of thin air, Becka leaned in the direction of this being an illusory projection.
Mimir sat down on the couch across from Becka’s. “How nice of you to stop by.”
The Shadow-Dweller didn’t appear at all put off by Becka’s arrival. She was serene as a lake in winter, the frosty edge to her smile promising no lenience.
“I have to say, this place has less of a ‘den of iniquity’ vibe than I’d imagined,” Becka said, confident that she wasn’t actually there.
Mostly confident.
Mimir’s smile widened, showing a rare flash of genuine warmth. “I’ll try harder.”
“I do not know how,” Becka replied, in awe of the level of detail within this illusion.
“Since you’re here, I doubt you suffer from a lack of imagination,” Mimir said, a stony glint in her eyes. “I’m pleased you found us. Well done solving the puzzle I left you.”
If only I could claim credit for doing so deliberately.
“Are you here to surrender yourself?” Mimir asked.
Becka’s eyes drifted to the bleeding fae strung up in the corner and then back to Mimir. “I can’t say that’s an appealing prospect.”
“Well then, to what do we owe the pleasure of the esteemed Becka Rowan?”
Not wanting Mimir to know she’d arrived there by accident, Becka scrambled for a reason. She needed information from Mimir, not further escalation, so Becka changed tactics. Since she was here, at least she should leverage the opportunity to get as much information as she could out of the Shadow-Dweller.
“Like I said, I don’t want to surrender, but I’m not sure. I’m afraid my friends might be next for your
rack, which I’d understandably like to prevent. Can I ask a few questions?”
Mimir tilted her head a little to the side, and then leaned back on the couch, gaze touched by curiosity. “I’m open to a dialogue, assuming you’re considering relenting and joining our side?” she asked, and Becka nodded. “Wonderful. Then ask away.”
Becka pointed to the bleeding fae in the corner. “Is that anyone I know?”
Mimir frowned slightly and then shrugged like his identity was of no consequence. “I doubt it. But surely you have weightier things on your mind?”
She shouldn’t be relieved that the dying or dead fae was unknown to her, but nonetheless she was.
“I do. How did you get the JOIN ME message in the sculpture base I helped destroy yesterday?”
Mimir’s face lit up. “Oh, I’m so pleased that one worked out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, over the years we get premonitions and prophecies. They are foundational to the future direction of our house.”
“You mentioned prophecies, but…” Becka started.
Mimir flicked her hand, as if she could dispel Becka’s disbelief by doing so. “That’s the glory of prophecy, my dear. You don’t have to believe in them for events to come to pass.” She held a hand to her chest. “I remember that one well. Our oracles advised us to leave messages which our future Liberator would discover, to display the eminence of our domain and convince them to ‘Join Us.’ The base of that statue was one of a couple locations where we left you messages for later revelation. I am pleased you have found the first.”
Becka blinked a few times as she processed Mimir’s words. She needed to get a copy of that children’s nursery rhyme book. “How long ago was this?”
Everyone knew prophecy was bunk. No modern fae believed in prophecy. Unless it wasn’t bunk?
“I’m the first to admit I lose track of time, but that was, what, some eighty or eight-five years ago?” Mimir replied.
Shadow Underground: A Romantic Urban Fantasy Murder Mystery (The Shadow Series Book 3) Page 16