by Logan Jacobs
“I was beginning to wonder if your team had chosen to take the day off, Ms. Dieyre,” the guild master said as he looked down at a paper on his desk.
“Sorry, sir,” Ariette apologized. “Danira’s message got a little delayed.” The four of us stepped into the room, and the oak door closed behind us.
“I’m sure it did,” he responded. “I’ve had three or four appointments run late today.” Hasen was still engrossed in his papers and left us to stand there in silence for a minute. Kalista stumped over to a large blue armchair by the dead fireplace and sat down rather elegantly as we waited.
“Is there something we can do for you?” I finally asked.
“Just one minute, Mr. Bailey,” he grunted, still laser-focused on the paper. Ariette and I shared a look.
Hasen wasn’t exactly my favorite person. He had a God complex, and a tendency to be assholey like the way he was right now. But nonetheless, he was a good leader and guild master and he introduced us to Maaren. Had he not done that, we could never have defeated Tamber.
“Alright,” the guild master finally spoke. He laid the paper down and folded his hands over it as if he was about to pray, then he fixed each of us with a look before the corners of his mouth twitched up in an attempt at a smile.
“We have a case,” he continued, “or rather, you four do.”
“Oh, yes!” Kalista exclaimed from her seat, and then she punched her fist through the air in a very ungraceful manner. “Not today, Cabin Fever!”
Hasen ignored her outburst. “An egg has been stolen from the Jefferson City Museum of Ancient Artifacts,” he intoned darkly.
“An egg?” Ariette asked skeptically. “Did Sal put you up to this?”
“Yes, Ms. Dieyre, that is what I said,” Hasen replied snidely, and it took all I had not to roll my eyes.
“What kind of egg?” I inquired as I made sure to keep my tone level and respectful. “I’m assuming it wasn’t for making a breakfast casserole.”
“A phoenix egg,” Hasen answered. “It was kept there purely for educational purposes, and it has been under a spell for fifty years to prevent it from hatching. However, now that the egg has left the premises, the spell is broken, and the baby could peck its way out at any time.”
“When did this happen?” Maaren was the next to speak. Her green eyes were narrowed, which told me she already calculated the possibilities of the egg hatching and also went over a million possible motives for the crime.
“Sometime between midnight and two a.m.,” Hasen replied. “The last guard checked on it at midnight and it was there, but when his partner came around two hours later, it was gone. Neither of them saw a thing.”
This definitely intrigued me, but I couldn’t help but wonder why Hasen would bring us onto a case of a simple stolen artifact. I was ready to fight more monsters and slay more bad guys, not track down some master burglar who probably just wanted to make a quick buck and garner bragging rights.
“Sir, is there a reason you are bringing us in on to this case?” I asked Hasen. “I mean, surely the police force could track this guy down and you won’t have to waste your resources on it.”
“That is a very valid question.” Hasen shocked me when he spoke. “Do you know anything about phoenixes?”
This question was directed at all four of us. Ariette, Kalista, and I all shook our heads, but Maaren nodded.
“What?” she asked when we looked at her in surprise. “Isn’t the biological complex of a phoenix common knowledge?”
“Apparently not,” Hasen interrupted. “Would you care to explain, Ms. Euphry?”
“Well, a phoenix lives out its life cycle, from embryo to infant to adult to elder, and then bursts into fire when it’s time to die,” she explained. “And then they’re reborn from the ashes, and the cycle starts all over again. A phoenix can only lay one egg in its entire lifetime, and the egg will take an entire decade to hatch. So essentially, a phoenix is immortal, and if someone swallowed a phoenix’s saliva or drank its blood, that person would become immortal as well.”
“Swapping spit with a bird?” Kalista sighed dejectedly from the corner. “That’s not exactly my idea of a fun time. To each his own, I guess.”
“Does that answer your question, Mr. Bailey?” the guild master asked, his voice dull and emotionless.
“Yep,” I responded grimly. This was not good. A burglar was one thing, but a criminal who could soon be an immortal being? Totally different thing altogether. The possibilities for the mischief this person could create were endless.
“Now,” Hasen continued, “the museum has assured me the egg was under the best protection. However, they have no idea who has taken this egg, but I strongly believe whoever did it has ill intent.”
“Obviously,” Kalista interrupted. “You don’t just steal a rare, immortality-granting item from a museum while you’re out running errands.”
“This is why I want the four of you on this,” the guild master continued as though Kalista hadn’t even spoken. “I want you to find the culprit as quickly and quietly as possible. I don’t want this to make noise, and I certainly don’t want the media to get wind of this situation, understood?”
“Understood, sir,” Ariette said with a firm nod.
The guild master looked at the three of us for confirmation, and we nodded in unison.
“Wonderful,” he said, and then he turned back to his paper and dismissed us with a half-assed wave. “Off you go.”
“Would a ‘thank you’ kill him?” I grumbled as the door closed behind us.
“Probably not,” Maaren sighed. “But I don’t think he’s willing to risk it.”
“Okay, guys,” Ariette said as she turned to the team, “what’s the possibility this is just some super advanced burglar who thought it would be cool to have a phoenix egg?”
The elf’s blue eyes looked at us imploringly, as if she hoped we’d all shrug and tell her she was right.
We didn’t.
I had a sickening feeling in my gut that told me this wasn’t an ordinary high ticket burglary. Stealing a phoenix egg from a super-high-security museum in the dead of night wasn’t equivalent to some art thief stealing an original Picasso with the intention to hawk it on the black market. This was the kind of crime with a bigger reason behind it.
“Do we think Phobos had a hand in this?” Kalista piped up worriedly. Maaren and Ariette tilted their heads in thought, but I instantly shook mine.
The Phobos was a small, radical faction of the Unseelie Fae. When I first arrived at the guild, I encountered a dragon Hasen kept prisoner in the guild hall’s dungeon cells, a dragon who told me I was prophesied to ensure “evil didn’t reign” over the world. Of course, the dragon loved to speak in riddles, so I didn’t actually know what sort of “evil” he referred to. But I had my suspicions, and a nefarious group of Fae sounded like a good place to start. Kalista wasn’t the only one who wondered just when the prophecy would come true, but so far the faction of Unseelie known as The Phobos had remained a dark cloud over our heads. The theft of a phoenix egg from a museum didn’t strike me as the way these malicious Fae would introduce themselves to us.
“I don’t think so,” I answered quietly. “This seems way too small-scale for them.”
A floating purple nymph came zipping down the hallway with a stack of papers a mile high, and we paused, let her pass, and then continued. Hasen had said to keep it low profile after all.
“It seems too small for them, too,” Maaren agreed. “Stealing a phoenix egg could make the Phobos immortal if they ingest the bird’s tears, but that’s not exactly helpful in the long run. Fae already live for so long, and phoenix tears only stop you from dying of natural causes.”
“Which means one good stab with the pointy end of the sword makes it all for nothing,” Kalista added.
“Let’s just get to the museum and check this thing out,” I whispered as a burly dwarf stomped past us.
The Jefferson City Museum of Anci
ent Artifacts was located square in the middle of Jefferson City. This meant we had a long and harrowing journey ahead of us. I didn’t think the Fae had gods or religion, but I sent up a silent prayer nonetheless as we made our way to the garage. Hopefully, this mission wasn’t going to be as difficult as we were all afraid it would be.
Ten minutes later, we barrelled down the streets of Jefferson City at breakneck speeds.
“Agh, sorry!” Kalista called out from the driver’s seat of the Van of Death as she hopped over yet another curb. “It’s really hard to see out of this thing!”
“Kalista, have you ever thought of maybe un-painting the windows?” Maaren called back sarcastically.
“Uh, no, my dear hunter, I have not,” the dwarf shot back, “because if I un-paint the windows, I may be able to see out, yes, but guess what?”
“What?” Maaren shouted out from her vantage point on the floor next to the counter.
“Our enemies,” the dwarf retorted with a sharp grunt as she slammed the brakes and threw us all forward, “will be able to see in just as well. And we do not want that. I’d much rather fly blind than offer up my head for a potential sniper’s bullet or archer’s arrow.”
“No, of course not,” Maaren whispered to herself. “It’s much better to die in a car wreck. Lots more broken bones that way.”
“Kal hasn’t crashed yet, Maaren,” Ariette said calmly. She was seated in a swivel chair in front of the computers and looked like the picture of grace as she filed down one of her long nails.
“‘Yet’ being the operative word,” Maaren grumbled as she crawled on shaky arms over the floor to me.
“Getting a little carsick?” I asked as I took in the slightly green tinge to her normally pale blue face.
“Me? Carsick? Never!” the hunter responded, although the way she clutched her stomach gave away her lie.
“Come here.” I laughed as she continued to crawl toward Ariette and me. She did so, and I lightly rubbed the small of her back to help ease the tension. Then, we fell back a few inches as Kalista slammed on the gas.
“Thanks, Milton, but even your sexy, magical hands are not doing the trick,” the hunter gasped as she patted my thigh lightly. “Kal’s driving skills are too overwhelming.”
“Ginger,” Ariette said without looking up, and then she moved the file to her right hand.
“What?” Maaren asked.
“Ginger,” the elf stated again, “for your stomach. Get some ginger for your stomach.”
“I’ll put that on my to-do list, right next to collagen for my coffee.” Maaren laughed.
“Suit yourself.” Ariette shrugged.
The Van of Death lurched to a stop, and Maaren and I were thrown directly into Ariette’s lap. My face landed squarely in the elf’s soft breasts, and Maaren’s head was thrown directly between Ariette’s legs.
“Sorry, sorry,” Kalista cried again as she hopped out of the driver’s seat and stepped into the back of the van. She spied the three of us piled together and gave us all a sly grin. “Do I need to give you three a moment?”
“What?” Maareen groaned. “To hurl up our guts?”
“No, no,” the dwarf giggled and then gave a knowing motion at our bodies. “It just looks like you could use some ‘alone time.’”
We laughed as we separated, and Ariette threw a quick wink in my direction.
“Maybe another time,” she countered. A blush crept up Maaren’s neck as she pulled away quickly, and I started to fantasize about what “another time” might look like.
“Come on, HC,” Ariette said with comical exasperation. “Get your mind out of the gutter. You can think about that later. Preferably in bed tonight. ”
The Museum building was huge. It reminded me of what I’d always thought the Smithsonian would look like. The shiny, tan building loomed over our heads and stood about four stories tall. The front was dotted with stained glass windows that didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason to their placement, and the center of the building was almost swallowed by a huge door that went up all four floors. The door was painted a deep red and had iron decorations welded onto it.
The building was set back about twenty feet from the sidewalk to make room for a huge water display. A copper fountain swirled into a spout ten feet in the air, shaped into the form of some fantastical cow-like beast. Water spewed out of the creature’s mouth and created a beautiful curtain of cascading rapids.
“Oooh,” Kal mused. “It’s a Crodh Sith! How cute.”
“A what?” I asked curiously. I was getting more and more familiar with fairy lore, but this creature wasn’t one I was familiar with.
“The Crodh Sith,” the dwarf continued. “It’s an old Skye legend. So there was this Fae who lived on an island and was also a farmer with this whole herd of cattle. Every day, some of his cows would go over and graze on the grassy hills on the other side of the lake. Well, whenever a human would observe these cows grazing, the Fae would have to hide by tossing a magical protective spell upon the lake. Unfortunately, this meant the farmer’s cows wouldn’t be able to return to him, and the humans could take them at will. It became a sign of good fortune for a human farmer to have one of these beasts in their herd, since it was a sign they had ‘outsmarted’ the Fae.”
“I appreciate the history lesson,” Maaren interrupted, “But check this out. They’ve got anti-Fae security measures up the wazoo here.”
“You’re right,” I replied evenly. “Nobody could have used their magic to get that thing out.”
“Yeah buuuttt,” Kalista interjected, “is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“I don’t know.” Ariette shook her head as she stepped from the sidewalk and onto the brick path beside the water fountain. “It certainly presents us with a couple different angles to investigate.”
In front of the door was a line of angry, grumbling humans. Most of them stood there in shorts and t-shirts, already prepped for what was sure to be another blazing hot day. School children on field trips giggled and ran around as their exhausted teachers tried to wrangle them.
“Children!” one severe looking woman screeched. A vein in her forehead popped out so hard I was worried it would burst as she screamed at three little blonde boys who play fought on the concrete.
The four of us walked on past and ignored the annoyed mutters that emanated from the line.
“Hey, you have to wait, just like us!” a young man, probably around my age, shouted at Ariette when she went to open a smaller, more normal-sized door that sat right next to the main entrance.
“We’re here on police business,” she replied shortly as she turned the doorknob.
“Well then, can you tell us when we’ll be getting in?” the man demanded. “The museum was supposed to open an hour ago.”
“You’ll get in soon,” I lied and did my best ‘movie cop’ impression. “Everybody just stay calm, and we’ll get back to you as soon as we know something.”
There were grumbles of annoyance from the crowd, but I ignored them as I flipped around and followed the women through the threshold. As soon as I entered the door, I rammed straight into Maaren. The hunter didn’t even notice as she stared at the sight in front of her. Once I got a good look, I could see why.
There was a huge statue, planted squarely in the middle of the entrance. To our left were ticket booths, and to our right was a gift shop. The entire center of the entry was completely empty, save for the majestic statue. It was carved out of what looked like pure amethyst, and the purple and white hues of the stone played beautifully into the breathtaking wonder of the statue. The depiction itself was just as amazing.
A tall, kingly elf sat atop a pegasus that bucked its two front feet into the air. The elf wore his hair long, and the front section had been carved so it pulled back in a half up style. Atop his head sat a thin crown the artist carved from the deepest purple of the amethyst stone. Even though his face was made of stone, the expression on it was easily readable. He look
ed proud, victorious, and godlike.
Maaren stared at the statue in awe as her green eyes roamed over it. Her full lips had formed a perfect “o”, and her breathing was shallow and rapid.
“Pretty cool statue, huh?” I asked and lightly elbowed her in the ribs.
“It’s Arion,” she finally whispered breathlessly.
“Who’s Arion?” I prompted, but she didn’t answer.
“He was the king of the Seelie during the war,” Kalista piped up. “Sadly, he’s since passed away, but he’ll always be remembered as the greatest war hero of all time. Rest in peace, my king!”
“Oh,” I said, shocked. Even though I never really knew the guy, it seemed inordinately sad that this majestic amethyst man was dead.
“Are you the security guard?” Ariette barked over our conversation as a rotund human in a blue polyester button-down shirt approached us.
“Yes, ma’am,” the guy said, his voice thick with a drawl. He looked us over with hard hazel eyes, and I could instantly tell he wasn’t too appreciative to have the Fae here.
“We’re with the Jefferson Guild--” I started, but he raised a hand abruptly to cut me off.
“Yeah, I’m aware,” he remarked. “We did call you guys, you know.”
“Right,” I said and waited for him to do something actually helpful.
“Look,” he drawled, “I wasn’t on duty last night, so whatever you think happened wasn’t my fault, okay?” He widened his stance and tugged up his jeans by his thick black belt, ready to place blame anywhere but himself.
“Nobody’s pointing any fingers,” Ariette said through a thinly veiled laugh. “We just want to know who did it and why. We don’t care about who messed up or could have done better. That’s for your bosses to decide.”
“And decide that we will!” a cheerful feminine voice reverberated off the stone walls of the museum.
A woman swept through the lobby then with her arms spread wide and a huge, toothy grin plastered on her face. She was dressed in an expensive satin pantsuit that must have been tailored to fit her rail thin and impossibly tall frame. The pantsuit was a deep turquoise and went all the way past her feet so she looked as if she floated toward us instead of walked. The dirty blonde hair on her head was pulled back into a severe ponytail that swung loosely with every step she took, and her perfectly made-up face was set into a carefully happy expression. Everything about her screamed rich and fake.