He turned to the distraught woman on the floor. “Mrs. Kaufman,” he said loudly.
She looked up.
“I’ll need you to come with me.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry, but you will need to come with me. There are certain protocols that need to be maintained and evidence to be collected, and as of now, you’re placing yourself in a position to become a target of our investigation.”
Mrs. Kaufman looked at me with pleading eyes, and then she turned to Officer Rakestraw.
“I understand,” she mumbled quietly.
It took her a minute to get to her feet, but after she stood, she followed us outside.
I shouldn’t have felt guilty. There was nothing I could have done. Mr. Kaufman was already dead when I arrived. Still, Mrs. Kaufman had felt I could help her husband somehow, and it hurt to disappoint her. But I’d done nothing wrong. Whoever had murdered Mr. Kaufman should be the one to take the blame, not me.
When we arrived at the front gate, Officer Rakestraw ushered Mrs. Kaufman inside the small room that had recently become the interrogation room.
After she went inside, the officer turned to me, his face set in a hardened scowl. “The only reason I’m not cuffing you right now is because I’m not stupid. I have respect for my superiors, even if they don’t deserve it. But mark my words—I am watching you. You slip up once more, and I’ll make sure it’s the last time. Got it?”
I swallowed my fear. He wanted to intimidate me, but I refused to let him.
“I got it. But you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“I’d better not.”
He went inside and slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone outside.
It was then I realized I was surrounded by a crowd. Turning away, I headed back toward my booth, feeling their eyes follow me. Up ahead, the midday parade had started, and I had to dodge through the crowd once again to get back to my booth.
It was just my luck that the Gypsies were marching past as I tried to make my way through the crowd. One of the young girls caught my eye and soon made her way toward me. I tried to avoid her, but once she’d spotted me, she kept pace with me.
“Wouldn’t you like a lovely flower?” she asked, playing the part as she attempted a Gypsy’s accent, slightly rolling her r’s and making her w’s sound like v’s.
“No thanks. I’m good.”
“It shall bring great luck,” she said as she trailed behind me.
“I doubt it.”
“And it would look so pretty in your hair.”
“I don’t think so.”
“‘Tis a free gift! Why won’t you accept it?”
My patience was already worn thin, and this girl’s hassling was about to wear it through completely. “Look,” I snapped as I turned around to face her, but I paused when I noticed the basket of flowers she carried.
Intermingled with the roses and carnations were flowers I recognized too well. The purple petals with the long, hood shape were unmistakable, as were the red flowers with yellow centers.
“Where did you get these?” I asked.
“They are grown in my mother’s magical garden of love. They are beautiful, aren’t they?”
I plucked out one of the red flowers. “What kind of flower is this?”
“‘Tis a poppy.”
“A poppy?”
She nodded.
“Is your mother’s magical love garden here on the festival grounds?”
She eyed me. “It’s… well… I don’t think I’m supposed to say.”
“Why not?”
She glanced nervously at the crowd. “Because it is a secret garden,” she said, still trying to keep up the Gypsy act.
“Drop the act,” I snapped, “and tell me where you got this flower.”
“Fine,” she said in her American accent. “My mom buys them, but I don’t know where. Walmart, probably. You happy?”
“Yes.” I tried to return the poppy, but she turned away.
“Keep it!” she shouted over her shoulder before giving me the one-finger salute.
Lovely girl. And so polite. I’d have to compliment the kid’s mom whenever I got a chance. Holding the poppy, I made my way back to my booth, but as I approached, I found Princess Esmelda standing outside.
“Princess,” I said, showing her the flower, “do you know the meaning of this flower?”
She studied the poppy. “My people call them poppies—the same as their Earth name—however, I do not know the meaning.”
“Would your brother know its meaning?”
“Yes. He is quite astute on such things. Would you like me to take you to him? I believe he returned to the tent along with the others. They were entertaining a group of humans.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Entertaining?”
“Yes. I am sure my brother is showing off. He gets that way at home sometimes. He is a performer at heart and loves to tell all sorts of wild stories. Would you like me to accompany you to the tent? I have finished with my weaving.”
She showed me her potholder, which she’d crocheted with blue and yellow yarn and had even managed a frilly edge.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
She blushed. “Thank you,” she said.
I made sure to lock up my booth before we left. As we made our way through the crowd and past the gates, my thoughts were on Mr. Kaufman and the poppy flowers. The meaning of this flower could help us find the killer. I only needed to find out what it meant and where it came from. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the Gypsy girl was carrying the exact same flowers found in the victims’ eyes. After I found out more about the poppy, I would inform Brent, although I still wasn’t confident he was looking for the right person… if we were looking for a person at all.
Kull would know more. He had gotten close to the creature, and I was willing to bet that whatever had attacked him was the same creature that had killed the two men. I dreaded speaking with Kull, but if I wanted to help the fairies find their starstone and stop a murderer, I didn’t have a choice.
We made it back to the tent, hearing laughter from inside before we even opened the flap. As we stepped into the main room, I was surprised to find it filled with close to a dozen people. Prince Terminus stood in the center of the tent, speaking with a measured cadence as he recited a poem. When the poem concluded, he paused, letting the excitement and anticipation build.
“Red!” he said loudly, and with a cloud of purple sparkles, a tulip appeared in his hand. He wandered through the crowd until he stopped by an older woman. “The meaning for this flower is ‘may you always have beauty in your life’. It is yours,” he said solemnly.
She took it, smiling, and thanked him. He moved on.
As I scanned the room, I noticed the three Wults had also gathered with the group, and I spotted a few other familiar faces as well. Jordan stood on the edge of the crowd with his arms crossed, a smug look on his face as he eyed Terminus.
Had the prince stolen Jordan’s customers? And how had Jordan gotten out of jail so soon?
I also noticed a few Gypsy women—including their mother, Madame Glitter. The stars must have aligned just for me, because she was exactly the person I needed to talk to, except I would have to wait. Terminus was moving in her direction.
He gave her a wary glance as he walked toward her.
Madame Glitter didn’t look her age. I knew for a fact that she was pushing fifty—she had been my patient, after all—but at a casual glance, most people would have guessed thirty. She told me she ran four miles a day, and her body was proof of it as she had barely any body fat. Her long brunette hair was always styled to perfection, and today she wore a snug cotton dress with a shawl tied around her waist and jangling golden bangles on her wrists and ankles. She smiled as Terminus approached.
He gave her a polite bow and then straightened. “As for you,” he said, “I shall give you the bloom that suits you most.”
With a flick of his fingers, a
whoosh of purple magic echoed through the room and a small yellow dandelion appeared on the palm of his hand.
“Yellow,” Terminus said. “Do you know its meaning?”
“No. Should I?”
“Yes, perhaps you should. Perhaps you already know its meaning all too well. Yellow,” he said, “is the color of infidelity. This is the color that suits you most.”
She frowned.
He offered the flower to her, but she refused it.
“As this flower has not wilted and its petals are without blemish, I would say these devious acts are still occurring. You are false, Madame. While you hide, the truth will be discovered, and you shall pay the price for it.”
Her eyes smoldered. “You are lying.”
“Flowers never lie,” the prince answered.
“You claim to know my secrets because you divined your knowledge from a flower? Ridiculous!” She forced a nervous laugh, though no one laughed with her. “I will not play your game any longer.”
She turned to leave when the flower shriveled and vines sprouted from the stem, wrapping it in a cocoon that soon sprouted thorns.
“I fear a great danger awaits you,” the prince said.
Madame Glitter’s eyes widened as she looked at the flower. She motioned to her girls, and they all followed her out.
There went my chance to get any answers from her. But… perhaps I had them already. What could the prince have meant about an affair? Was Mr. Kaufman or perhaps Mr. Duncan involved with the Gypsy woman?
I stored my questions away as Prince Terminus continued his show. Heidel stood on the edge of the room, and he stopped in front of her.
“I don’t believe there are any flowers meant for me,” she said. “You should move on.”
“Yet,” he said, “there is one flower that I believe suits you.” He waved his hands, and after the magical cloud dissipated, he held a white calla lily. “This is the flower of rebirth and new beginnings. I hope you will accept it.”
She studied the flower for a moment. In the short time that I’d known her, Heidel had managed to trick and betray my companions and me twice. I wasn’t sure if I could ever trust her completely again, yet I knew something had changed. She was different now. Her attitude had changed, and it seemed a small thing, but she no longer carried her goblin blade.
Heidel took the flower and gave Terminus a solemn bow. “I will accept it. Thank you,” she said.
Terminus moved away from Heidel. I hoped he wouldn’t come near me—whatever power he used to divine someone’s inner workings was a little disturbing, and the last thing I wanted was for him to look into my thoughts. But as he headed toward me, it seemed there was nothing I could do to stop him.
Prince Terminus stood before me. I wanted to look away, but as he took me in, with his steel-gray eyes, I felt his magic working.
“You do not want a flower?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer.
“I will not give a flower to you if that is your wish.”
“No, it’s okay.” Why did I say that?
“Very well.”
As he studied my face, the magic gathered around him. I felt its warmth on my skin. Fairy magic was harmless, so why did I feel so anxious? What did I fear he would find?
Lavender smoke rose from his hand, and after it dissipated, a small, coral-colored bud sat on his palm. It bloomed, revealing frilly, lacy-edged petals.
“The sunset fae flower,” he said, surprised. “You have the honor of being the first to receive this flower. How very unusual.”
“Why? What does it mean?”
“It is a fairy flower—only found on the mountain-cliffs near our home in Faythander. The meaning of the sunset flower is ‘may you not forget the one you love’.”
Until that moment, the murmur of conversation had filled the room, but now, everyone quieted. I couldn’t understand why until I glanced at the corner of the room where Heidel stood. King Skullsplitter had graced us with his presence. He stood beside his sister with his arms crossed, his eyes shadowed by a dark cowl.
Prince Terminus turned to the crowd. “Thank you, all! That is the last of it for now.”
A few people clapped before leaving, and some of them even offered tips to Terminus, which he politely refused. After they cleared out, I glanced at King Skullsplitter, who still stood beside his sister.
Despite everything I’d been through with that man—all the ups and downs, and all the crap I’d heard about him since then—I still needed to talk to him. It wouldn’t be easy. In fact, I dreaded it, but I mustered my courage, decided politeness would be my best tactic, and walked to where he and his sister were standing.
I cleared my throat. “Hi,” I said. “How are you feeling?”
He gave me a sidelong glance and then stared at the opposite wall. “Better.”
“Good. I’m very glad to hear it. I was afraid—well, we all were afraid—that you might have lost too much blood.”
It didn’t matter that it had been ten months. Standing here and talking to him now made my memories of better times surface.
Why can’t it be that way again?
“It seems you healed me when I was no longer meant for this world,” he said. “Once again, you have proven such a feat is possible for you to accomplish.”
His words stung. I knew he was referring to my inability to save his father when I’d had the chance.
“You were only injured. You weren’t dead. That makes a difference.”
“Does it?”
I eyed him. “Yes, it does.”
He smiled briefly, an expression that didn’t touch his eyes. “I find that difficult to believe.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer.
“Thank you for healing me.” He spoke without emotion.
“You’re welcome.”
He gave me a slight nod. “If you will excuse me.”
He turned on his heel and marched back to his chamber, leaving me alone with his sister.
Prince Terminus spoke to his sister, and then they both walked toward us.
“We have heard there has been another murder,” the prince said.
“You have?” I asked, surprised. “It only just happened. How did you know about it?”
“I overheard it,” the prince answered. “Is it true?”
“Yes,” I said, “it’s true. Mr. Kaufman was found dead in his kitchen. His body, like the first one, was wrapped in vines, and he had a flower like this in each of his eyes.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out the poppy.
Terminus took the flower from me. “Where did you get this?” he asked.
“From a Gypsy girl. She also had monkshood flowers in her basket. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Can you tell me the meaning of the poppy?”
“It is the symbol for wealth and a good harvest—I am not sure what its implication may be. However,” he tapped his chin, “there are some who also believe these flowers to be an omen of death.”
“There must be more to it,” the princess said. “Perhaps the meaning is not in the flower itself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Perhaps the meaning is in the flower’s color. Red is the color of our fairy stone.”
“The death of the fairies’ stone is nigh,” Prince Terminus suggested. “Could that be the meaning?”
“It’s a possibility. But if so, then what are we supposed to do about it? We still have no clue where this creature is or where the stone is located.”
“I feel as if the creature is taunting us,” the princess said. “I do not like this. It knows we are here. It knows what we have come to do. What is its purpose?”
“And why doesn’t it just leave?” I asked. “What purpose did it have in bringing the stone to earth?”
Prince Terminus shook his head. “I fear we will not have our answers until we know more about it. So far, we have very little to go on.”
I eyed the vines obscuring King Skullsplitter’s chamber. He’d been
injured by something out there. “Has anyone asked him?” I asked, pointing toward Kull’s room.
“Do you think it’s wise to question him?” the princess asked.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“He is king, of course. It would be prudent of us not to disturb him.”
“But he was attacked by something. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to find out what attacked him? For the greater good and all?”
Prince Terminus shook his head. “We dare not disturb him. He has sacrificed much to be here—he almost sacrificed his life. We will wait until he is ready to speak.”
I didn’t like their way of thinking. There were innocent people dying, and the fairies wanted to wait? What if King Skullsplitter decided next year would be a good time to talk?
Heidel spoke up. “I’ll speak with him,” she said.
“Good. Thank you.”
She gave me a sidelong glance. “But I wish for you to accompany me.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because I won’t face his temper alone.”
She didn’t say it, but I remembered the stories of what he’d done to her. Heidel was an expert at hiding her fear, but I knew it was only a disguise. She was frightened of Kull.
“Very well,” I answered. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter Eleven
I followed Heidel into Kull’s chamber. Only a few candles lit the small space, giving off just enough light to see the room. Kull sat on the edge of a vine hammock. I glanced briefly at him and saw only his chin and lips. His eyes were partially hidden by his cowl.
There was a time when I’d have sworn I would spend the rest of my life with this man, but no longer. This was not the Kull I had known. I kept that thought with me as Heidel and I stood across from him.
“We’ve come to speak with you,” I said in my most commanding voice.
“Why?”
“We want to know what injured you.”
Our gazes met. In that brief instant, I felt I heard his answer.
You, he seemed to say. Your absence has injured me beyond repair. But then he looked away, and I rationalized that I had imagined it.
“A beast,” he finally said, “not of this world.”
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