Bloodthorn

by Tamara Grantham

  I tried my best not to roll my eyes.

  “It tastes appalling,” Heidel said. “I don’t know how you drink this.”

  “You don’t like it?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “May I have yours?”

  “Take it.” She gave him her drink. “You amaze me sometimes, Brother.”

  The shopkeeper returned to the window, and Heidel took several turkey legs from him. Rolf and Brodnik gladly accepted the food, but I hesitated, still feeling angry that they’d decided to eat when I could have possibly been dead.

  “What’s the matter?” Heidel asked.

  “Nothing,” I mumbled, finally accepting one of the turkey legs. Kull led us to a set of tables under an awning near the restaurant, and despite my worries for the princess and her attacker, I sat and decided to eat something. Besides, Kull was right. We’d never find the attacker if we didn’t have our strength.

  I glanced at Kull as I ate. He seemed somehow less dark. Maybe slaughtering the spider had put him in better spirits, although it was most likely due to the Dr. Pepper. I hoped his better attitude lasted, as I was sick to death of putting up with his antics. How did Heidel and his men stand to be around him?

  I needed to buy stock in the Dr. Pepper Corporation and possibly find a way to hook Kull up to a continuous Dr. Pepper IV drip.

  Brodnik and Rolf filled Kull in on the last two days, but I only half-listened. Nothing eventful had happened until just before we came back, when the princess had been attacked.

  “The attacker was looking for the ring?” Kull asked.

  “Yes,” Rolf answered. “It’s the ring that Olive wears now.”

  Kull knit his brows in concentration. “The fairy ring?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “The princess believes the larger stone won’t function unless it’s put together entirely. Whoever took the stone is also searching for the ring.”

  “This is strange indeed,” Heidel said. “Who could this person be?”

  I had a few theories but none I could prove. “The only person I can think of is Jordan Young,” I said. “He got bailed out of jail days ago, and I don’t think the human authorities are treating him as a suspect any longer.”

  “Why not?”

  “He had an alibi. He was selling drugs at the time of the first murder.”

  “But what about the second murder?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been in contact with him. But the two murders do have one thing in common. There was an unusual substance found on both bodies—the same type of drug Jordan was selling.”

  “Then if the human authorities do not see him as a suspect, perhaps we shall have to speak with him,” Kull said.

  “I agree, but let’s not act just yet. There’s still more. Whoever the killer is, they may be working with Madame Glitter, the palm reader. The flowers found in Mr. Kaufman’s eyes are the same kind that her girls have been passing around. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Plus, I’ve seen her hanging around Mr. Kaufman’s shop on more than one occasion. I’d like to know why.”

  “Then we shall head to her shop first,” Kull said.

  “No, wait,” I stopped him. “I don’t want her to suspect that we think she’s involved, so I’d like to go alone. I’ll ask her for a reading and then go from there.”

  “Alone? Is that a wise idea?” Brodnik asked.

  “Yes, is it?” Kull said, sighing.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Besides, what will she do to me, throw a bag of love dust in my face?”

  “Love dust?” Heidel asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “Colored sand with perfume. She charges twenty bucks for a small bag—and I’m the one who gets chewed out for being a rip-off.”

  Kull crossed his arms. “I don’t like this—I never like it when you go off on your own.”

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something I would regret. On the one hand, he thought I was invincible and could bring back the dead, and other times he worried over me as if I were a newborn baby. I would never understand him. Thankfully, I would never need to understand him.

  I finished my food and stood. “I’ll be back soon,” I said and headed away from them, ignoring Kull as he protested.

  Sure, I thought, come with me, Kull, and wave your shiny sword around. Let’s see how long it takes before Madame Glitter calls security.

  Without the crowds, navigating the cobbled paths was an easier ordeal, and I made it across the grounds to Madame Glitter’s tent much faster than I’d expected. A girl wearing Gypsy clothing—a red bandana, high-heeled boots, and a full skirt—stood outside. She smacked on a mouthful of gum as she held her phone, scrolling down the screen. As I approached, she looked up, eying me suspiciously.

  “Is Madame Glitter here?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “She’s busy.”

  “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  She shrugged.

  “Can you at least tell me if she’s inside the tent?”

  “Sure. She’s in there. She won’t see you, though.”

  What? Who made these rules? “What if I pay to see her?” I pulled a wadded ten-dollar bill from my pocket. Thankfully, I’d been off world, or else I would have splurged my tip money on something like groceries. I showed her the cash.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Ten bucks? Really? Do I look desperate to you?”

  I hesitated, not understanding her attitude. How could she so easily dismiss ten bucks? I would have clamored at the chance to earn that much. I doubted her moral scruples were responsible for the attitude. Sheesh, maybe I needed to rethink my career choice. The trouble was—I couldn’t afford to offer her any more.

  “How about a trade,” I said. “I’ve got some handmade knit scarves back in my booth. They’re very popular—”

  “No good.”

  “Collectible figurines?”

  “Nope.”

  I should’ve let Kull come with me—he was better at bargaining than I was. He’d probably offer her a whole can of Dr. Pepper. Maybe two if she asked nicely.

  “Look, I really need to see her. It’s urgent. I can pay extra if I need to, but it will have to wait until later. This is really important. Like life-or-death important.”

  “Fine,” she said, finally taking the money. “She’s inside. Don’t tell her I let you in.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I entered the Gypsy’s tent. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. A few candles lit the small space, illuminating the dark burgundy cushions arranged on the floor, the Buddha statue, the small table with a gazing ball and Tarot cards lying haphazardly beside it. Behind the table were several shelves stacked with odds and ends—an urn, a few empty flower vases, and several incense holders. Smoke snaked up through the air from burning incense sticks. The place reeked of incense, as if someone were trying to mask the odor of cigarette smoke clinging to the walls and fabric-covered cushions.

  A muffled voice came from behind a tent flap on the far wall, so I stepped over the cushions and quietly approached the back wall. Recognizing Madame Glitter’s voice, I stood outside the flap, listening.

  “Tomorrow is no good. I told you already, I need it now.” She paused for a moment. “I said I would pay you. Why can’t you trust me for once?”

  Another pause. I wished I could hear the other end of the conversation.

  “Yes. Tonight in my tent. Fine. I’ll pay it. Whatever. Just bring me what I asked for.”

  The phone beeped as she ended the call.

  I made it back to the cushions as she entered the room. I’d never seen her so disheveled. Her normally stylish hair was limp and uncombed. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.

  “Miss Kennedy,” she said as she focused on me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need help,” I said. “Uhh… relationship help.”

  Why hadn’t I thought this through before I came? Surely I couldn’t tell her that I sus
pected she was aiding a murderer. Now I’d have to come up with some depressing relationship story.

  At least I won’t have to lie about it.

  “It will have to wait,” she said. “I’ve got too much going on right now. I’m not seeing clients today.”

  “No, wait,” I said, scrambling to come up with some reason I should stay. “Look—I really need your help now because… he’s going away soon. And I won’t get another chance with him.”

  “Relationship troubles?” she asked. “I charge more for that sort of service.”

  “Fine, I’ll pay it. I just… I really need to speak with you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Madame Glitter was one of those women I had trouble understanding. She knew how to manipulate, and she was an expert at deceit. I’d have to find a subtle way to get her to talk.

  “Fifty dollars,” she said.

  I almost choked. “Fifty?”

  “Yes, plus a tip if you ever want my help again.”

  There went my grocery money for the rest of the month. “Fine, I’ll pay it.”

  She stood for a moment, scrutinizing me, and then made her way around the table and sat across from me. “You’ve never struck me as the type to want this sort of thing,” she said.

  “Desperate times,” I answered.

  “You’re falling for him that bad?”

  “Yes.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  I sighed. I could pull this off. I really could. I just needed to believe it.

  “All right. The truth is, I’m not even sure I want him anymore. He’s not the same person he used to be.”

  “So you need my help deciding if you want him?”

  “Uh… no. I need your help deciding if he wants me.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Why would you need to know if he wants you when you don’t even know if you want him?”

  She had me on that one. Again, I found myself scrambling for an answer.

  “Because we were together once, and those were the happiest days of my life. I guess… I just want to know if I’ll ever find someone like that again.”

  She worked her jaw back and forth. I was sure she was deciding whether or not to throw me out.

  “We’ll ask the cards. It’s the best I can do.”

  She absentmindedly picked up the cards and shuffled them, all the while keeping her dark eyes on me, making me shudder.

  “Tell me about him,” she said. “Is he the cop?”

  “Brent? No. It’s not him.”

  “Someone else?”

  I nodded.

  She continued shuffling the cards, her gaze unfocused. She placed the cards on the table and rested her hands on top of the stack. We sat in silence for several minutes, her eyes closed, her breathing quiet.

  “I cannot,” she finally whispered. “All I see around you is darkness. Pain. And this word—this word I keep hearing over and over. Deathbringer.”

  Shivers ran down my spine.

  “Does that word mean anything to you?”

  I swallowed. “I’ve heard it before. I still don’t completely understand its meaning.”

  “That is all I see. Nothing more.” She leaned forward. “Now, you must tell me your true purpose in coming here. Is it about Possess?”

  Possess? I decided to play along. “Yes,” I answered. “Who do you get it from?”

  “Why should I answer?”

  “Because I’m trying to protect you. Those drugs are dangerous.”

  She laughed. “Dangerous?”

  “Yes, two people have already been killed, and both were found with traces of the drug in their systems. There are dark forces at play, ones that you can’t comprehend. If you want to stay safe, you’ll tell me who you got them from.”

  “I don’t believe you. Dark forces are what I deal with every day thanks to the work I’m in. You don’t scare me.”

  I sighed, feeling at my wits’ end. I’d dealt with her type more times than I could count. People like her never believed me when I first told them about magical forces. But sometimes it was better to show than tell.

  Praying my magic cooperated long enough for a simple demonstration, I opened my hand, palm up, and whispered the word for a simple fire spell.

  “Ignite.”

  A tiny flame appeared, feeding off my magic. I held it quietly, watching the fire dance on my palm, reflecting on my skin.

  Madame Glitter grew still, and her eyes grew wide as she watched the flame.

  “What is that?”

  “Magic,” I answered. “Real magic.”

  She swallowed. Fear replaced the aloofness in her eyes. “A trick,” she whispered.

  “No. It’s real. You can feel it, can’t you?”

  The magic grew within me, and I sensed that soon it would be too much to control, so I extinguished the flame.

  “Are you going to hurt me?” she asked.

  “I’m not here to hurt you. I want answers. People have been killed, and I don’t want anyone else to suffer. So tell me, who do you get the drugs from?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Mr. Kaufman sold them to me when I first set up my booth. He’d been using them, and he’d sold different things to me before. He even put a trace of the drugs in the meat he sold—thought it would make the food addicting and make people come back for more.” She laughed. “He was so stupid, and so easy to manipulate—married, too—the kind of man I needed to conquer.”

  “So you were sleeping with Mr. Kaufman?”

  She nodded. “More or less. He didn’t do much for me.”

  Her integrity was astounding.

  “What else can you tell me about him?”

  “Usually, he only sold me the small stuff. He didn’t even use it most of the time. But when he found Possess, he couldn’t stop himself. He used it without thinking—it was like he became another person. It was a weird, wicked drug. Nasty stuff, but hard to stop using. After he died, I didn’t know who to buy from. That bastard died and didn’t leave me with a way out. And now I’m desperate. I hate being desperate. Desperation is something I reserve for my special clients—for the men who come to me.”

  She bit her lip as tears formed in her eyes. “Men don’t mean anything to me. They’re toys. Useless. Cheap thrills. I don’t care if I break their hearts—or their wives’ hearts. They all deserve it.

  “Women come in here, asking me for advice about love. Me! But they give me money, so I keep doing what I do best. I tell lies. But now I’m stuck here, with no way out and no one to buy from.”

  She pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. The pungent scent of smoke fogged the room. I now understood why I’d never felt comfortable around the lady. She was a snake, a sorry, sick individual who did more harm to people than she would ever understand. I didn’t want anything else to do with her, but I also knew she was lying to me—she’d admitted already that she was in the business of lying. Now it was time for her to fess up.

  “Surely there must be someone else you’re buying from?” I asked.

  “No one.”

  “Is that so?

  “Yes.”

  “Drop the act,” I said. “I heard your conversation on the phone. You’re buying from someone. Who?”

  She placed both hands on the table. “No. One.”

  She could push, but I could push harder. “Was it Jordan Young?”

  Her face flushed with anger. “I won’t speak with you any longer.”

  “Your girls were carrying poppy flowers in their baskets, and Mr. Kaufman—the man you were sleeping with—was found with the same sort of flowers in his eyes. Why?”

  She stood, her fists flexed, and I stood too. “Leave,” she said.

  “Not until you tell me what you know.”

  “You want me to tell you? Fine. You know nothing. You have no idea what’s going on here. It’s evil beyond your understanding—you’re headed down a path that will end in death. You should leave now and count yourself lu
cky. You will lose everyone you love—for that is your curse.”

  I balled my fists, feeling anger and magic rise within me. She was lying. Everything she said was a lie.

  But if it’s a lie, why does it feel like the truth?

  “Tell me what you know,” I demanded.

  “The killer is here,” she said. “He is watching your every move, waiting until he has enough energy, and then he will take you.”

  I paused, my anger turning to fear. “How—how do you know that?”

  “He knows you.”

  Now she was just creeping me out. “Who is he?”

  “I won’t tell you!” Rage filled her eyes as she rounded and grabbed the urn off the shelf. Before I realized what was happening, she bashed the urn into my skull. Sharp shards of glass cut my skin as the ceramic burst open and ash exploded all over me, coating me in a fine, powdery dust.

  Inhaling the ash made me cough, and it blinded me for a moment, disorienting me as I felt something sharp jab my breastbone. Madame Glitter forced me backward until we ran into a wall of solid muscle. Only then did I realize Kull had entered the room.

  He held his sword tip under the woman’s throat.

  “You,” he said in his too-calm voice, “will not harm her again. Do you understand?”

  “Or what?” she said, trying to sound defiant, though her voice wavered.

  “Or I kill you.”

  I couldn’t see Kull’s eyes, but in his voice, I heard the anger. He would do what he said. Without hesitation.

  “Fine,” Madame Glitter said and spat on the floor. “Get out.”

  He backed slowly out of the room with his hand gripping my arm, pulling me along. Warm blood trickled from a cut in my forehead and dripped down my cheek. When we exited the tent, he kept his hand on my arm and steered me away from the tent.

  “Where are we going?” I said, trying to shrug him off.

  “To your booth.”

  “What? But I wasn’t finished with her. Let me go.”

  “No.”

  What? “Kull, let me go!”

  “Not until I know you are safe.”

  “Safe?”

  “Yes, safe. You have not changed. You are still as reckless as ever. I am surprised you’ve lived this long.”