by Richard Amos
Holding Louise’s hand, we crossed the tiny bridge over a water, passing under the arch of flowers around the pine door which had ornate carvings of a tree in it.
Inside, the place was like an underground wonderland. The ceiling was a tangle of roots and fairy lights, the ground solid and giving the illusion of packed earth—but really made of stone. The sunlight streamed through round windows, spotlighting some of the dark wooden booths that made up the café.
Sitting in the booth nearest to me on the right was Cherry.
“Hallo,” she said, looking up from her magazine.
“Cherry!” Louise cried, hurrying over. “You look so pretty today.”
“That’s very kind.” She gave my daughter a hug. “What are you up to?”
“We got Daddy a new mug.”
“He broke another one?” she said.
“He did,” I replied.
“Hallo, Dean.”
“Hi. You okay?”
She nodded. “Very good, thank you.”
That means she saw Victor again, but this time she wasn’t feeling so sad about things.
Cherry looked so relaxed and casual in black jeans and a red jumper, nursing a cup of coffee. Out of her work clothes she looked so different, so much fresher.
“He’ll break this one,” I added about the mug.
Cherry laughed, so did Louise. “I’m sure. He isn’t very lucky with those mugs, is he?
“So bad,” Louise said, shaking her head. “I can name the moons of Jupiter.”
“Wow. Really?”
“Ja. The ones with names.”
“All of them?”
“Yep.”
Down the far end of the café was a small bar. Well, not really a bar. That was another thing about this place—it was dry. Not one drop of booze crossed the threshold. That wasn’t a problem for us because I’d given up drinking, and Jake didn’t touch it. But I guess it was a problem for the general public. Another trick Ronnie was missing.
The goblin was over there, wiping the inside of a cup with a dishcloth.
“I need to talk to him.” I nodded towards Ronnie.
“You can leave Louise here if you want,” Cherry replied.
“Yay!”
I wiped a trace of sleep from under my little girl’s eye. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. Louise needs to tell me all about these moons.”
I smiled. “She’s a clever girl.”
“You go and talk to Ronnie. We’ll be fine here, won’t we?”
“Sure will, Papa.”
I hesitated. Even leaving the short distance of booth and bar between us made me nervous. I wasn’t supposed to be out here. It was bad enough we’d had that encounter with the Ricci twins in Spui.
“Dean?”
Ridiculous. This was The Golden Leaf. A safe space. Plus, no one ever came here apart from the loyal. Louise was fine. Everything was fine. It was Cherry, for goodness sake. Louise loved Cherry.
Her power. What if she used it again? What if someone saw?
What I needed to do was get her home before Jake found out about any of this. And what was I going to tell him? Keep the incident with the twins from him? Louise would bring it up, and I couldn’t do anymore lying.
Shit.
I had to face him. He’d understand. He always did. I didn’t make a habit out of breaking promises and he knew that.
I had to talk to Ronnie. This goblin case couldn’t keep being pushed aside. That body had been dumped on my doorstep and I had to know why.
“Thanks. I won’t be long,” I answered, getting up. “Be a good girl.”
“I will, Papa.”
“Now,” Cherry said, “tell me about these moons, Louise.”
I walked up to the bar, Ronnie still wiping a cup.
He looked up. “Oh, hallo. Wasn’t expecting you today.” He always wore a white tunic, making him look more like a dentist than a café owner, and he had cropped white hair to match.
The floor on his side of the bar was higher than on the customer side, which meant he was always on the same level whenever he stood behind it.
I took a seat on a stool. “How’s business, Ronnie?”
“Same as always.” He inspected his handiwork. “Ah, the perfect sheen.”
“Always good to have one of those.”
“It is, Dean. What can I get you?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” He lifted a green hand. “And before you speak, let me get you a drink. Can’t be having you in here without having anything. On the house.”
“No, Ronnie. No freebies. A black coffee would be good.” Even if I’d had three this morning.
“Don’t insult me. Take the freebie.”
“Ronnie—”
“In goblin culture, it is rude to refuse a gift.”
Was it? I didn’t argue. “Fine. Thank you for the generosity.”
“Anything for my best customer.” He poured some into a gleaming mug, pushing it at me. “Sugar?”
“I’m good.” I took a look at Lou, who was using her fingers to count off the moons.
“So, what do you want to talk to me about? Try the coffee.”
I did. “It’s good.”
“Good.”
“Yes, good.”
“No, that wasn’t a question. I was just saying that’s good you think it’s good.”
“Your coffee is always good, Ronnie. Anyway, let—”
“Pastry?”
“Ronnie.”
“Sorry, can’t help myself.”
“Natural born host.”
“You could say that.”
“Okay, Ronnie. Are you ready now? Want to offer me anything else? Get it out of your system now.”
“I’m good.”
“Good. Right, so have you heard about the goblin murder?”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“You did?” I asked.
“There’s been an embargo over it all.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Rebus doesn’t want outside sources involved.”
“He doesn’t? Why not? We already have the victim’s name. It’s Roberto.”
Ronnie looked left to right, leaned in closer. “I don’t get it either. Rebus is losing the plot, I swear. He’s pulling away from everything. He wants all working goblins to quit their jobs. No idea why. Actually, I do.”
“You do?”
He scratched his green chin, backing off. “I don’t know how he’d expect us to make money if we’re not working. Is there a magical goblin money fund all of a sudden?” He chuckled at himself. “Crazy. He’s crazy. And freaked out.”
“You’re hiding something,” I countered his rambling.
He polished the cup too hard. “Crazy old Rebus. How’s the coffee? I’d better get back to work.”
“Ronnie, stop. Talk to me.”
“Busy, busy—”
“You’re not busy, Ronnie. You’re deflecting. This is me you’re talking to. Now stop and tell me what you know. Why would Rebus want you to quit your job?”
The goblin paused, not looking at me. “Not here.”
“What?”
“Not here, Dean. Someone might hear us.”
“But there’s no one here apart from Cherry and Louise.”
He shook his head. “Not here. I feel too exposed. What if someone walks in and we don’t know?”
“I think you’d know if someone walked in.”
“Dean, if you want to know, we go out the back.”
“I need to keep an eye on my daughter.”
“It’s only out the back.”
I turned to the still-reciting Louise. “I shouldn’t.”
“Then later, when you’re alone.”
This had to be now, or all of my promise-breaking was for nothing. “Fine. Let me just talk to her.”
“I’ll meet you out there.”
I slid off the stool and headed back to the booth. “H
i. How’s it going?”
“Good, Papa.”
“Amazing,” Cherry replied. “I didn’t realise Jupiter had so many moons.”
“Neither did I. Listen. Ronnie just wants to show me something out the back. Are you guys okay for five minutes?”
“Absolutely,” Cherry answered.
“Sure, Papa.”
“Five minutes.”
I left them to it. Louise wasn’t even halfway through yet anyway. It’d be good to let her finish.
Self-pacification helped the nerves like a stiff brandy sometimes.
I pushed through the swing door leading to the back, big for the human staff that used to work here before they were laid off through lack of customers to serve. Ronnie was standing by the industrial oven. The kitchen was a stark contrast to the front—all chrome and purposeful, lacking any soul. It didn’t need to be anything other than functional—Ronnie’s words. And I agreed.
“Talk to me,” I said.
He went straight in. No deflection whatsoever. “A group of goblins has gone missing. Roberto was one of them.”
This had taken an interesting turn. “That explains Rebus being paranoid.”
“Yes, paranoid. But we can’t stop living, can we?”
“No. So, do you have a list of names? Dates and times when they went missing?”
“He’s worried they’ll all end up like Roberto.” He hadn’t answered my question.
“That doesn’t need to happen,” I said. “I can help find them, stop any more deaths.”
He sighed. “I know that, Dean. But Rebus…he won’t back down. He blames you and Jake for getting those goblins involved in the clear up.”
“Sorry?”
“All of the goblins who cleaned up the mess in your offices when that poor man exploded. They’re the ones who disappeared.”
“But…why? Why would they even be involved? Goblins clear up messes all the time.”
“I don’t know, Dean. That’s all the information I have. I can…give you the names.” He shook his head. “No. I can’t do that.”
“But you just said you would.”
“I can change my mind.”
“No. You can’t.”
He cocked a brow at me. “I think I can. I’ve already said too much.”
I blocked his path. “This is ridiculous. Why all the cover up?”
“I don’t know.” He tried to move around me, getting blocked again. “Please, I need to get back out there.”
“Ronnie, talk to me. Please. Whatever you know. This won’t come back on you, I promise.”
There was that word again. Another one to break?
“I can’t, Dean. I’m sorry.”
“Please. What are you hiding?”
“You don’t know Rebus. He’s not kind. If he found out I talked to you…”
“He’d what? Kill you? That would make him a murderer too. Defeats the point, doesn’t it?”
Ronnie shook his head. “Not kill. Punish.”
“For trying to solve a case?”
“He would see it as breaking my word.”
I knew all about that this morning. “What kind of punishment?”
“It doesn’t matter to you.”
“It does, Ronnie. You’re my friend. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”
“Then don’t make me talk.”
I had to hold my hands up to that. “Okay, okay. I’ll shut up.”
“I’ve already given you enough.”
“I said I’d shut up.”
“Can I go back out there now?” he pointed behind me.
I stepped out of his way.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pausing by the door.
“I get it. Don’t worry.”
“I want the case solved too, Dean. I really do. I know you’d get it done, but I have to respect the wishes of Rebus.”
“Seriously, Ronnie, I get it.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
He wasn’t the only goblin I’d be talking to. Just the friendliest.
Ronnie pushed the door open and I went follow. “Oh,” he said.
“What?”
“Where’s your daughter?”
My heart almost stopped. “Don’t say that.”
“But where is she?”
I hurried back into the café, down to the booth to find Cherry slumped across the table and Louise gone.
“Louise?” I called. “Where are you?”
“She’s asleep,” Ronnie said.
I looked down to him, expecting to see my daughter curled up. She wasn’t. He was talking about Cherry.
He checked her pulse. “Sleeping.”
“Louise!”
No response.
“No, no, no.” I burst outside, practically tearing the door off its hinges. “Louise!” I ran back inside. “Louise! If you’re hiding, come out. It’s not funny. You’re scaring Papa.”
Silence.
“Louise! Do as you’re told!”
Shit. This wasn’t…no. She was hiding. She never ran off. Ever. She was a good girl, even for a four-year-old. Taking off was forbidden and she knew it. She was so good like that.
I darted back outside. “Louise.”
An iron fist had closed around my heart, crushing.
“Louise!”
“Dean?”
“Louise! That’s enough!” But she didn’t do things like this. Unless she did. Unless I’d misjudged her. She was a young child. No matter how brilliant her mind was, she was still a long way off maturity. All kids rebelled, did these things from time to time. She had to be hiding somewhere. This was a game of hide and seek.
“Dean!” A big boom for a little creature.
“What?”
“I sense magic on Cherry. Fae magic.”
Another iron fist burst through my chest as my senses kicked in.
There it was. Fae magic.
“Louise!”
FOURTEEN
JAKE
“Thomas,” I said, bracing myself.
“Get away from him.” His voice was raspy.
Sometimes he shimmered, sometimes he blinked away for a few seconds. So not hardcore invisibility, but good enough to allow him to bump off three people.
“Thomas, you need to calm down.”
“Get out of my house.”
Lars was by my side. “This doesn’t need to be difficult.”
Thomas moved across the room, vanished, then shimmered again by the side of the young guy on the bed.
“Kyler.” I saw his hands move up to Kyler’s terribly pale face. “I’m here. It’s Thomas. I’m here.” His transparent form leaned closer, and he planted an invisible kiss on Kyler’s cheek—the kiss of a lover.
They were together. “An ambulance has been called.”
Thomas didn’t say anything. “I’m sorry I’m late.” He stroked Kyler’s face. “I’m so sorry I didn’t answer the phone. I was taking care of Jonah and we weren’t supposed to meet here, remember?”
Jonah? What the hell? Another murder?
“It’s almost done, we’re closer to being free now.” His voice trembled. “Why did you have to do that? Why? Was it because of me? For not answering the phone? You know I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.”
Purple light pulsed outward in a ring from Kyler’s body. It cut right through me, the walls, and disappeared. Another followed a few seconds later.
“I need to get you out of here,” Thomas said.
As Lars went to make a move, Thomas had Kyler flung over his shoulder in a blur of speed and was back at the door before my brain could process what’d happened.
“You won’t touch him again.”
Holy shit. This guy was so juiced up with pod.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Thomas added, “but I will if you get in my way.”
“Thomas!” Lars yelled. “You’re under arrest. Stay where you are.”
Thomas was gone.
“Fuck!” Lars bellowed, chasing aft
er him. “We can’t let him get away!”
We ran down the stairs, back outside, no sign of Thomas or Kyler anywhere.
Panting, I said, “Kyler overdosed.”
“And there’s been another murder,” he added. “You heard that, right?”
“I did.”
During the brief time we’d been inside the house, a yellow pod had appeared in the middle of the road.
Lars received a call as the ambulance turned into the street, blue lights flashing. I went to move, putting myself between it and the pod. That’s all we’d need—the vehicle driving into the pod.
It slowed just as Lars ended his call. “We need to go. Now. They’ve found victim number four.”
KYLER. My mind was on Kyler and his state. He wasn’t good, fully in the grip of his drug addiction, possibly dead by now.
They were together, in love. What the hell had happened to get them to this point? Who were these people being killed? What did Thomas mean by it almost being done?
We arrived at a spot near Centrale Markt, in the western area of the city. It was already a fully swinging crime scene—white tent, police tape, the whole shebang. Oh, and three tiny pink pods for good measure.
This victim’s murder was bloodless, but no less grim. His head had been twisted almost all the way round, the dark skin of his neck a twisted mess of horrid bumps to indicate a nasty break. There was also a sock stuffed into his mouth, and his eyes were bulging.
“I think you’ll find his name is Jonah,” Lars said to one of the investigators.
“How do you know that?” the woman asked.
“We just had an encounter with the killer.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Fucked, right?” I contributed.
She nodded. “This whole case is. Also, we found another of those charms. We’ve contacted the necromancers. They’re on their way.”
“Hope the ghost is still around,” I said.