Wiretaps & Whiskers (The Faerie Files Book 1)

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Wiretaps & Whiskers (The Faerie Files Book 1) Page 28

by Emigh Cannaday


  “It’s seeping out the walls. It’s evil. It followed someone here. It followed Solana . . . ”

  “Solana lives in your family’s castle?”

  “Yeah. She takes a lot of pride in living there after killing my parents,” seethed Elena, her throat pulled tight with anger. “She’s been breaking down all the positive energy my parents left and replacing it with evil.”

  “And where is Solana now?” asked Sylvia.

  With a mind of it’s own, Elena’s arm jumped into action and began dragging the pen all over the page. With Lafayette still planted in my lap, I scooted over to see what she was drawing. The image of a large throne was being scratched angrily into the paper.

  “She’s in the great hall,” said Elena through clenched teeth. “That bitch is sitting on my mom’s throne!” Her cheeks grew red with anger, and she gripped the pen so tight her knuckles turned white. “But she can’t see me,” Elena went on. “She can’t see that I’m here in her home. My home . . . ”

  “Good,” replied Sylvia. “You make sure to keep your distance. You’re just a ghost passing through space and time.”

  Elena nodded, but her anger failed to dissipate.

  “Okay, go down to the library,” instructed Sylvia. “Can you go back down?”

  “Yeah, I’m back in the stairwell.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Mold. Slime. Decay. The walls are crumbling down here. There’s dirt and grime everywhere. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been down here in years. Maybe decades. Maybe since my parents died.”

  “Can you see the library?”

  “I can see the door. It . . . It used to be green, but the color’s faded. Now it’s just muddy looking. It’s falling off its hinges, and the handle is rusted.”

  Raising a hand off her stomach, she pushed through the air as though she was opening a door.

  “Oh, you guys . . . it’s so sad down here,” she said, her face crumpling around the blindfold. “No one’s been here in ages. It’s like they forgot all about it.” She moved her face down as though she was staring at the floor. “It’s all falling apart. The books . . . There’s thousands of them but they’re all rotting away to nothing.”

  She hung her head sadly.

  “For someone who’s so obsessed with power, Solana sure doesn’t give two shits about reading and learning.”

  Raising her head as though she could see through the layers of the castle to the room in which Solana sat, she said, “She thinks books are for the weak.”

  Then she lowered her head, her closed eyes focusing on something in the distance.

  “Do you know where in the library you need to look?” asked Sylvia.

  “No.”

  “That’s okay. Let your gut instinct guide you.”

  Returning her hand to her stomach, she felt for a hunch, that gut feeling that was to tell her where to go.

  “I think I have to move closer to the back of the room,” she said. “To a hidden compartment. It’s . . . I think it’s beneath the floor.”

  “What do you see?” asked Sylvia. “You need to tell us everything as you move through that space. It’ll help you stay in the moment. Describe everything around you.”

  “There are pages of dusty books scattered on the floor. There’s a small window. No, not quite a window, but a hole in the wall that used to have a thick piece of glass across it. It’s smashed now, broken in a storm and never fixed. Wind and rain flow in here. It’s destroying everything.”

  She went silent again, her eyes flickering beneath her lids.

  “Now what do you see?” asked Sylvia.

  “A wet floor covered in leaves. A table that’s been knocked over.”

  “What do you smell?”

  “Mold.”

  “What else?”

  “Sadness.”

  “You smell sadness?”

  “I mean I smell all these rotten pages and it’s making me sad.”

  “What do you feel in your stomach?”

  “I feel like I have to keep walking to the very back of the room. Ugh, I can taste the air. It’s nasty down here. Everything’s all covered in rot and dirt and years of damp air and dead leaves. My mom would’ve cried if she’d seen it like this.”

  “Try to focus,” urged Sylvia. “Walk to the back of the room like your gut keeps telling you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now what do you see?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Just a wall. There’s nothing on it. There used to be paint on the bricks, but it’s peeled away. I can see little shreds of paint chips on the floor. They’re green and look just like the leaves beside them.”

  “Are there no books?” asked Sylvia.

  “Nope. Nothing.”

  “What about this compartment you spoke of?”

  “I can’t see anything. Just a wall.”

  “Think. Feel your instinct. There must be something.”

  “But there’s really not!” cried Elena. “I don’t see anything. I don’t think this is working. Clearly, my gut feeling is wrong.”

  “It’s never wrong!” snapped Sylvia. “It’s never ever wrong. You must listen to it closer. Do whatever it tells you.”

  “But . . . ”

  “Do what it tells you!”

  “It’s telling me to . . . ”

  Elena frowned as though she was confused by her own feelings.

  “It’s telling me to dig.”

  “Dig where?”

  “At the bottom of the wall.”

  “Alright. Then dig!”

  Elena pushed her hands out in front of her as though she was scrambling through the ether, her tiny fingers pushing and pulling at the wall in front of her.

  “I feel something,” she gasped. “A loose brick!”

  “Can you move it?” I asked, being drawn into her excitement.

  “Yeah! Holy shit—it’s coming out of the wall!”

  I watched as her fingers pulled out the imaginary brick and set it down at her feet.

  “Now what’s happening?” I asked her, forgetting all about the cat purring in my lap. “Elena, what do you see?”

  “There’s a hole in the wall. A compartment.”

  “What’s in there?”

  Without hesitation, she thrust her hand into the hole, her fingers clenching around something large and heavy.

  “It’s a book!”

  “What book?” Sylvia and I called out in unison.

  She lowered her blindfolded gaze to what lay in her hands.

  “It’s a book of spells. It’s my mom’s old book of spells.”

  29

  Elena

  It didn’t matter how long ago my parents were killed—I could never forget my mother’s handwriting. I grew familiar with it from the moment I was old enough to read, although I never thought I’d see it again.

  Looking down, I felt the thick crumbling pages of the book in my hands and brushed my cautious fingertips down over the paper. My fingers came away with dust and debris, but the ink remained steadfast on the page.

  “Elena?” came Logan’s voice. It was deep, warm, powerful, yet so distant. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere inside my head while simultaneously coming from some place far, far away.

  “Elena, the book of spells. What does it say?”

  “It says too many things to explain,” I said, gingerly flipping through the pages.

  Undoubtedly, the book was the one thing I was meant to find. Quickly, my eyes devoured the pages as I tried to find whatever I was destined to find.

  Use your gut, I thought to myself. Use your subconscious, your instinct.

  My fingers were working independently from my body as they made their way through the book. Page after page after page . . . until they rested on one page in particular.

  “Can you still hear us?” asked Logan.

  “I can hear you fine,” I replied.

  “What are you seeing
right now?”

  I looked down at the page. Is this the one that my subconscious chose for me? Was it the one my mom wanted me to find? A feeling in my gut was telling me it was. There was an unwavering sense within me that this wasn’t just the section I was supposed to find. This was the page I was meant to find.

  My eyes fell upon the words at the top of the page and my heart beat a little fast, but not from fear, but from elation.

  “I’m looking directly at the solution to our problems,” I said, trembling with excitement. “A spell that will stop Solana for good.”

  “What is it?” Logan begged to know.

  “Please, Agent Rivera—tell us!” urged Sylvia

  I held the book close to me, feeling my mom’s spirit through each and every word she’d written on that page.

  Thanks, Mom, I thought as I squeezed its old pages in my hands. You may have finally put an end to all of this.

  “Elena! What does it say?” asked Logan again.

  “This is the spell,” I began, a smile forming on my lips. “My mom named it The Greater Ceremony to Mute all Evil. Looks like we can use this to—”

  Before I could get the words out, a thump and a thud sounded from overhead. A second later came the rush of footsteps down the ancient staircase.

  “Who treads there?” came a booming male voice.

  Spinning around, I looked through the doorway out to the staircase at the sight of four of Solana’s guards running towards me. There was no mistake that I was as real to them as the swords in their hands.

  “Sylvia! Get me out!” I screamed. “They can see me!”

  “Wake up, Elena!” she shouted. “You’re not there! It’s only in your mind. You’re safe in my home. You’re sitting on the floor with me and Agent Hawthorne. Lafayette is purring in his lap and there’s a plate of cookies sitting beside you. You’re not really there!”

  I could hear her voice, but it appeared to do nothing. I was still trapped in the vision in my head, the guards getting nearer and nearer.

  “It’s not working!” I screamed again.

  “Elena, wake up!”

  I felt solid arms around my shoulders and suddenly I could sense Logan by my side. I could smell his woodsy skin and hear his powerful voice piercing through my thoughts.

  “Snap out of it, Rivera!” he shouted.

  I felt a hard jolt, like I’d fallen from a great height and landed hard back into reality. When I opened my eyes, I saw Sylvia’s and Logan’s shocked faces.

  “Elena, are you alright?” Logan asked from above. I realized he was still holding onto me, although I was too shaken to move.

  “Welcome back,” smiled Sylvia. “My goodness, that was quite an adventure, wasn’t it?”

  “I thought I was supposed to be like a ghost, but they could see me! They looked right at me!”

  “Your spirit is more stubborn than most,” said Sylvia. “And you possess a natural talent that’s stronger than I realized. They could see you on the other side because you were really there.”

  I frowned in confusion. That didn’t make sense.

  “How could I be there when I was here?”

  “Simple. You were in both worlds.”

  Feeling dizzy and overwhelmed, I sank deep against Logan’s arms. He was a wall of muscle—he could take it. It was only then that I felt the cramp in my right hand. I was still gripping onto the pen. To my surprise, I’d been putting it to use.

  “What the hell?”

  We all looked down at the notebook to see a long line of writing and symbols identical to the ones I’d seen in my mom’s book. It was even written in her handwriting; my eyes and my brain had essentially photocopied it right down my arm and onto the page.

  “Holy fuck,” Logan gasped when he recognized what I’d done. “You wrote the whole spell out?”

  Relief flooded through my aching hand as I forced it open and let the pen fall to the floor.

  “The Greater Ceremony to Mute all Evil,” I sighed. “From the looks of it, you have to read this rhyme. This magical rhyme about banishing evil with . . . ”

  “With what?” asked Sylvia.

  “Yeah, with what?” Logan asked, taking the notebook out of my lap. He scrutinized the page, but he couldn’t read a single syllable. It was written in Old Fae. I’m pretty sure they didn’t teach that at any known universities.

  “Apparently all we need are pure hearts and noble intentions,” I said, struggling to sit up on my own. Logan let go of my shoulders and gave me a quizzical look.

  “We’re going to fight this evil queen with noble intentions?”

  “Hey, I didn’t write the spell! I’m just telling you that’s what it says.”

  I scanned my eyes quickly over every word. There were verses to say, peculiar phrases that had to be spoken in a certain order, and all in the presence of moonlight. According to my mom’s instructions, this would banish and mute all evil, but only if the words were spoken by someone with a pure heart and noble intentions.

  Logan shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he gave it another minute to register.

  “We’re supposed to defeat Solana by reading her a poem?”

  “Yep. That’s the plan, unless you come up with a better idea.”

  30

  Logan

  I didn’t notice my phone buzzing in my pocket until Elena gently elbowed me in the ribs.

  “You gonna get that, or what?”

  “Oh! Right.” I grabbed my phone and held it to my ear. “This is Special Agent Hawthorne.”

  “Uh, hey there. It’s Officer McKinney.”

  It took me a minute to put together the old name with the young voice. It was the sheriff’s nephew.

  “Right, right. I’m kind of in the middle of something. Is it important?”

  “Yes, sir. I wouldn’t have bothered you if it wasn’t.”

  “Of course. Give me a second.”

  Giving both Sylvia and Elena an apologetic look, I stepped out of the room and hurried down the hall and onto the front porch. A gust of fresh air greeted me, and I drew in a deep breath, staring into the trees around the property. I couldn’t explain why, but got the feeling something was watching me from behind the bushes and wildflowers.

  “Okay, I’m here now. So, do you have something for me?” I asked Officer McKinney.

  “Heck yeah! You were really onto something with that weird rock.”

  “Did you find more?”

  “Ten of them.”

  “Ten? No shit?”

  “Yeah, well, that’s how many I’ve found so far. I think there’ll be more.”

  I looked over my shoulder down the hall to Sylvia’s living room. Elena was still kneeling over the spell she had just scribbled out. The day was already weird, but I knew it was about to get a whole lot weirder.

  “Where did you find them?” I asked. “And are you sure they’re the same as the one I showed you?”

  “I’m positive, Agent Hawthorne. I’ve taken photos of all of them. They’re identical. I emailed you pictures, but I can text them to you if you want.”

  “That would be great. Can you send me coordinates while you’re at it? A link to a pin on a map would be ideal.”

  McKinney took a breath as though he was trying to calm down.

  “Yeah! Definitely! But you’ll never guess where I found them.”

  “Tell me.”

  “The rocks were all buried around the places with the most disappearances. Except some weren’t even buried at all! Just a little covered up with leaves and branches.”

  Now it was my turn to steady my breath.

  “What do you think this means?” he asked.

  I knew exactly what it meant, but it wasn’t his job to know just yet.

  “I’m not sure,” I lied, not wanting to panic him. The rumor mill in town was churning nonstop, and I didn’t need any more gossip compromising this case. If any of the officers knew what Elena and I were dealing with, that news would spread like wi
ldfire through the entire county.

  “It’s weird, though, right?” he continued. “Someone must’ve had pretty in-depth knowledge of the area to put them in those places. And it ain’t like those rocks are small. They’re heavy as all get-out! Why would anybody drag a bunch of boulders out into the woods like that?”

  “Beats the hell outta me why someone would go to all that effort. Could be some kind of ninja artist like Banksy. You should look him up and you’ll see what I mean,” I said to McKinney, bringing the conversation to a close. “Good job, officer. You did well.”

  “Anything more I can do?”

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and send me all the pictures you have, along with that location. I’m sure I’ll talk to you later.”

  As I hung up, light footsteps approached from down the hall. I turned to see Elena standing on the other side of the screen door, clutching the notebook in her hands. She looked exhausted, although she managed to give me a judgy little side-eye.

  I knew that look. It meant we had work to do.

  31

  Elena

  “Who was that on the phone?” I asked Logan. “Was it Harris? Does the wiretap team have any information yet?”

  “It was Officer McKinney,” he said, putting his phone away. “Sheriff’s nephew found more of those boulders with Moloch’s sigil.”

  “How many did he find?”

  “Ten of them so far, and he thinks there’s a few more in the area. He found them where the highest concentration of abductions occurred.”

  I shuffled over to the old porch swing and sank into the seat, half expecting it to come crashing down, and giving zero fucks if it did.

  “That’s not good,” I groaned, leaning against one of the dirty chains holding the porch swing in place. The lumpy, cold metal felt good on my face. “That many stones in one area sounds like someone’s building a doorway to Hell. If I wanted a direct line to Moloch, that’s how I’d go about it.”

  “We can’t afford to lose another kid,” Logan huffed. “I think we should do the spell now.”

  “We have to wait until the moon rises,” I yawned. “That’s when magic’s at its most powerful.”

 

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