by Lily Webb
“Lydia’s not dead, she never was, she—”
“I know. Zoe, listen, there’s something I need to tell you,” Flora said, and dread washed over me.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I haven’t been honest with you, but I don’t want to do that anymore. I can’t afford it. I’m a member of the FBI,” Flora said, and my jaw dropped.
“What? You are?”
“Yes. I have been since you met me. I’ve been working undercover, first on the Harper Woods case and now on you.”
Everything clicked into place at once. No wonder Flora conveniently had an apartment for me to move into when I came to Moon Grove. The Fairy Bureau of Investigation must’ve coordinated it after Harper died and ordered her to buddy up to me to keep an eye on me.
“Why are you just telling me this now?” I asked. I wanted to feel betrayed, but I didn’t have it in me. Somehow, I couldn’t think of Flora as disingenuous. She’d kept secrets from me, but that was her job as an FBI agent and she’d saved me from Lydia, so she must’ve cared about me at some level. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be coming clean.
“I told you, I don’t want to lie to you anymore. It might cost me my job, but if it means keeping you alive and electing you as Head Witch, it will be worth it. Regardless, I don’t care. You’re my friend.”
I hugged her, and her wings fluttered as she returned it.
“Thank you for saving me and for being honest,” I said.
“You mean you don’t hate me?”
“No, not at all. You’ve got that lie detector fairy thing, so I can’t lie to you about it,” I said. Flora held me out at arm’s length and beamed at me, her eyes glistening with tears. “But I don’t understand. Why would the FBI want you to monitor me of all people?”
“You were the first outsider in Moon Grove in decades, which worried the FBI,” Flora said. “It turned out to be unwarranted because you did a lot of their work for them,” she laughed.
“Oops,” I said, shrugging.
“Anyway, when you announced you were running for Head Witch, I couldn’t leave my post at The Messenger to trail you without drawing attention to myself, so I’ve had to balance both,” Flora said.
“So you’ve basically been a campaign mole?” I laughed.
“Something like that, yeah. But after you started negotiations with the Crowes, who we’ve been investigating for election tampering among other offenses, I got scared. I knew they’d try to take advantage of you somehow, but not like this.”
“What other offenses?”
“Blackmail,” Flora said. “You might not know this, or might not have had it confirmed yet, but there’s a reason the Crowes were so desperate for your support on the wand bill. Before you came along, it was dead on arrival. But with your support, it could pass, and if it does, the Crowes stand to make a lot of money thanks to their family’s wand making business.”
“Wand making business? I knew they were rich, but I just assumed they inherited all the money,” I said.
“They did. Did they never tell you what their parents did to make all that money in the first place?”
“No, it never came up. I mean, it’s not exactly tactful to ask people about how they made their money, especially if they didn’t make it themselves,” I said.
“Their fortune started to dry up years ago, long before their parents died,” Flora said. “After the patent on their wand design expired, their wands were reverse engineered and in a matter of months the competition had almost squeezed them out of business.”
“Lydia told me they never found who killed their parents,” I said.
“Oh, they know perfectly well who killed their parents, they just want no one else to know,” Flora said, and a chill streaked down my spine like an ice cube.
“They did it?” I asked, afraid to know the answer. Flora nodded.
“We never found sufficient evidence to charge them for it, but yes, we strongly suspect Lydia and her sisters,” Flora said. “They knew the money was running out and their parents were flailing, so Lydia took the future of the family fortune and the business into her own hands.”
Damon Fade’s words echoed in my mind: Did you know that, when wounded, crows sometimes eat their own? I shuddered at the memory. Who could kill their own parents? The same person who would fake their own death.
“But I don’t understand. Lydia was a successful racer, and that must’ve brought sponsorship deals and all kinds of other money, so why would she do this?” I asked.
“Why else? Money,” Flora said. “Can you imagine the life insurance policy a legendary broom racer like her must’ve had?”
My breath caught in my throat.
“Was that what this was about all along?” I asked. “Lydia needed to fake her death to collect on insurance payouts?”
“That wasn’t the only thing she intended to collect on. The Crowes were developing the only wands that would comply with the regulations imposed by the bill they were trying to pass. If it passed, their company would have a monopoly,” Flora said.
“That must’ve been why the NWA opposed them so strongly,” I breathed. “They knew something more was going on under the surface, and that’s exactly why Eden and Ivy were so determined to convince me that the NWA killed Lydia. They knew she was alive.”
“Exactly, and they must’ve been worried to death you’d find out,” Flora said. “Everyone knows you’re not the type to stop asking questions when someone tells you to.”
“That must’ve been where Brendan came into the picture,” I said.
“Brendan?”
“Brendan Norwood, an ex-NWA member,” I said. Flora looked aghast.
“We’ve heard a lot about him. You think they involved him?” she asked.
“They must have. In the bustle after the attack, he fell and dropped this,” I said, and reached into my robes for the NWA coin I carried with me everywhere. Flora took it from me and turned it over in her hands.
“How do you know this is his?”
“I asked Rowley Darkmoore, and he confirmed that the coins are individually numbered and given to members when they join the NWA. It’s Brendan’s, there’s no doubt about it,” I said. “But that’s only half. When I went to talk to Brendan afterward, he’d vanished. His house was open and trashed, but I found an NWA magazine inside, and there was a letter tucked into it that threatened Brendan if he didn’t keep his mouth shut.”
Based on Eden and Ivy’s reaction to the letter when I showed them, one of them probably wrote it.
“So do you think the Crowes paid Brendan to help them stage Lydia’s attack?” Flora asked.
“No, I think they tricked him into doing it,” I said. “Rowley and another employee of the NWA, Damon Fade, told me that Brendan got thrown out of the organization for being a problem. Lydia must’ve heard about it, as plugged in as she was politically, and saw an opportunity. Rowley told me that Brendan promised he’d get revenge against the NWA for throwing him out.”
“So Lydia gave him the perfect opportunity to do it: stage her murder and make the NWA look responsible,” Flora said, her eyes wide. “As twisted as it is, I have to admit it’s genius.”
“It all fits. The Crowes could collect on the life insurance payout for Lydia, solving their financial problems. Public support for their wand reform bill would surge after Lydia’s death, all but ensuring its passage, and by framing the NWA for the attack they would take out their biggest political rival,” I said.
“But then you entered the picture and screwed it all up,” Flora laughed.
“Exactly. Now everything makes sense. I met with Lydia early in the campaign and she tried to get me to support their bill then, but I said no, and do you know what she told me? ‘The Crowes always get what they want,’” I said. Flora scoffed and shook her head.
“So did they have this scheme all cooked up before you announced your run for Head Witch?”
“They must have, but when I th
rew my name in the ring, they saw another opportunity. They knew how popular I was with the voters, and given all the murder cases I’ve solved, they thought I could be the one to pass their bill once and for all,” I said. “They never dreamed I’d say no, so when I did, Lydia must’ve thought she had no other choice.”
“Which left her sisters scrambling to pick up the pieces in the aftermath,” Flora said.
“Right, which begs the question: what happened to Brendan?” I asked. “Did they kill him too?”
“It’s hard to say, but I can’t see why they wouldn’t. He would’ve been a huge loose end for them and there wouldn’t have been any reason for him not to come clean if he ever got cornered,” Flora said.
“I don’t think he’s dead,” I said, and my stomach dropped as another realization struck: the noise I’d heard in the Crowe’s Keep wasn’t a box falling down — it was Brendan. Lydia must’ve known I’d heard it and put the pieces together, and that’s why she’d tried to kill me during the race. She wanted to cut off all the loose ends in her plot, and I was the only one left.
Brendan was alive, and he was in the Crowe’s Keep. I had to get to him before Lydia got to me. I darted to the closet by the front door and pulled out my broom.
“What are you doing?” Flora asked.
“I think Brendan’s alive and in captivity at the Crowe’s Keep. I going to find out,” I said.
“What? Zoe, no, you can’t do that. Are you crazy? Lydia just tried to kill you in front of hundreds of people in broad daylight. Do you really think she’ll stop now?” Flora asked.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m the only one who knows that Brendan’s still up there. He might not be the greatest guy in the world, but he doesn’t deserve this,” I said. “Besides, if he really is in there, I think he’s also got all the proof we need to clip the Crowes’ wings for good. I wish you’d told me all this sooner.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t,” Flora said.
“I know, but I wish you had,” I said as I flung the front door open and kicked a leg over my broomstick. It hummed in my hands, full of life.
“You can’t do this, you’re gonna get yourself killed. At least let me call in some other agents, and we’ll go together,” Flora said.
“No, it’s too risky. If Lydia’s half as smart as I think she is, she’ll know I’m coming and she’ll be waiting for me. If I show up with a bunch of FBI agents in tow, she’ll kill Brendan,” I said.
“And what do you think you’ll do alone?” Flora asked. “You’re no match for her on a broom. You’ll never get away.”
“I don’t have to be faster. I just have to be smarter,” I said. “I’ll bring Brendan to the MGPD to lure Lydia out. Call your agents if you have to, but don’t act until I have Brendan and Lydia’s on my tail.”
“This is crazy, Zoe,” Flora said.
“Maybe so, but I’m the only hope he has. Don’t fail me now, Destiny,” I said, patting my broom. Without another word, I kicked off the ground, soaring straight into the air.
Chapter Fifteen
For the first time, I didn’t feel remotely nervous on the broom; it felt as natural as breathing.
Destiny must’ve felt it too, because she responded to each of the slightest directions my hands and body gave her. We streaked toward Veilside Academy and I could see the Crowe’s Keep off in the distance, towering and imposing.
I had no idea what I’d find there when I arrived, but I couldn’t stop to think about it. The only thing that mattered was getting there before Lydia did. If I was lucky, I might break into the upper tower and escape with Brendan on my broom. If I wasn’t lucky? Well, I couldn’t stop to think about that either.
When I reached the outskirts of the Crowes’ property, I climbed higher into the sky to avoid being seen by the gargoyles I knew stood inside the gates. If I flew high enough, they might never see me, but it wasn’t a guarantee. Gargoyles had some of the best vision of any species — and they could fly — but I had to avoid them at all costs.
Thankfully, the sun was beaming, which I hoped would help hide me from them. I kept climbing until it got harder to breathe, then leveled off and surveyed the ground below. I was so high up that everything looked miniature, like a doll’s house, but the central tower of the Keep stuck out like an uneven tooth.
I drifted over the top of the tower, took a series of deep breaths, and slowly and deliberately inched my way down toward it, trying not to think about how far below me the ground was. The tower clawed up at me, growing larger by the second, until finally its peak was so close I could’ve reached out and touched it.
The gargoyles hadn’t seemed to notice me, which was a small blessing at least, but still I wound my way around the back end of the upper tower to use it as cover. There weren’t any windows this far up, as far as I could tell, but I knew of one surefire way to get inside: the balcony. Luckily for me, that was a blind spot for the guards. But if either Eden or Ivy were inside and saw me land, it would doom me.
So I descended past the balcony and hovered, my heart hammering. If Lydia and her sisters had killed their parents, there was no telling what they might do to me. When I thought I had the courage, I picked my head around the corner as fast as I could to steal a glance. It was a flash of color, but no people. That didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone inside; it could’ve been a trap. But the longer I waited, the less time I had to get Brendan and get out of there before Lydia showed up — and I knew she would.
I floated up onto the balcony and dismounted my broom, careful not to make any noise. Unsure of what else to do with it, I rested the handle against the side of the tower out of view of the balcony doors. I turned the handle, but as expected, nothing happened so I pulled my wand from my robes and placed its tip against the lock.
“Recludo,” I whispered, and winced at the noise as the mechanics in the lock loosened themselves. The door popped open with a click and I ran through it as quickly as possible and closed it behind me just in case. Save for the sunshine coming from outside, the room was dark. All the lights were off, the fireplace was empty, and nothing stirred in the Keep.
“Hello?” I hissed. It was stupid, but if anyone was waiting inside to trap me, they’d already know I was there, anyway. Better to know ahead of time. Nothing answered except for the dull buzz of electricity humming in the kitchen suite’s refrigerator.
Careful not to trip on any of the furniture or make any noise with my footsteps, I tiptoed to the staircase that led to the upper tower. The spiral stairs ascended and wrapped around a turn into darkness. At the foot, I stopped and strained to hear something, anything at all, coming from above. Nothing came.
Cursing silently, I padded up the first few steps as quietly as I could and stopped. The stair squealed under my weight and like a frightened cat I jumped up to the next one and froze, praying there wasn’t anyone but Brendan inside the Keep. After a few moments passed and nothing happened, I let out the breath I’d been holding and kept climbing.
At the top of the staircase, I came to a dark landing. Four doors branched off, two on each side, and my confidence deflated. How was I supposed to know which room Brendan was in? I didn’t have the time to look through each of them, and I didn’t know if any of the Crowes were inside waiting to surprise me.
“Brendan?” I hissed and flinched as my voice bounced down the hall. I stood frozen, waiting for any sign of noise, and nearly bit off my tongue when I heard a thud come from the furthest room on the right, which was the one nearest to the living room area in the lower part of the tower. It had to be Brendan — or a well thought out trap.
With my hand held so tightly I feared it might snap, I crept down the hallway toward the door. The sound of my heart pounding in my ears drowned everything else out and I didn’t dare take a breath until I reached the door.
As quietly as possible, I pressed my ear against the wooden surface and strained. Nothing.
“Brendan?” I asked again, my voice a ghost. The thudding n
oise answered, louder this time, followed by a low moan. My heart jumped into my throat. It had to be him. I reached for the doorknob with my free hand and aimed my wand at the entrance.
I turned the handle and rushed inside with my wand held high, but when I took everything in, I almost fainted. Brendan sat shirtless in a bare bed with his back against its headboard, his hands chained to either side. His head jerked up at the sound of my entrance, but the look of pure terror he wore quickly changed when he realized I wasn’t one of the Crowes.
“Mmm!” he grunted through closed lips. There wasn’t a gag, so why couldn’t he speak? Had the Crowes put some curse on him to keep him from talking in case he escaped?
“What? What is it?” I asked as I ran toward him and examined the chains that bound his hands.
“Mmm mmm mmmmmmm,” Brendan moaned as tears came to his eyes. His hair was at least six inches longer than it’d been in the NWA database picture I’d seen and he smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. How long had Lydia had him here, and why?
“It’s okay, I’ll get you out of here,” I said as I pressed the tip of my wand to the lock on the chains. “Recludo,” I said, and the lock clicked open. Carefully, I freed Brendan from his chains and helped him stand. His legs shook and gave out, but I caught him before he hit the floor. Was that what I’d heard when I was downstairs the night before? Had he fallen off the bed?
“Mmm,” Brendan cried.
“Come on, walk. I can’t get you down the stairs on my own, and we need to get out of here fast,” I said. I threw his arm around my shoulder and struggled with him out of the room and down the hall to the staircase. Using the wall as a balance, we slowly worked our way down and somehow, miraculously, did so without either of us falling and breaking our necks. The room was just as dark and empty as it’d been the first time I came through, so I lowered Brendan down onto a sofa and hurried to the balcony to throw the doors open. Thankfully, Destiny still rested against the side of the tower.
I snatched the broom and brought it inside.