“I’d like to give him more than a message.”
“Do tell the man to visit.”
Marvin shuffled his feet, obviously uncomfortable. Poor kid. I just didn’t know of any other way to distract Jenny. If I could have thought of anything else, I wouldn’t be encouraging her crush on Ceffyl Dŵr. It was creepy, in so many ways.
“Sure, thanks for the info,” I said, backing away. “I’ll be sure to deliver your message.”
Marvin and I made our escape while Jenny talked to herself about whether or not she preferred kelpie men in their equine form. I hustled to get beyond ear shot. There are some things I just do not want to know.
Chapter 12
I was anxious to discover what Hob was able to learn from his eavesdropping, but most dockworkers would only just now be heading to the pubs. It would be a few hours, and a pint or three, before their tongues loosened. No, Hob wouldn’t return to The Emporium until late tonight.
Marvin and I would just continue our trek across the city, heading toward my office where Jinx was working on our client schedule. She had phoned earlier to ask if I could squeeze in a quick lost and found case tomorrow. According to our account books, the money from the kelpies, after Forneus’ cut, would cover our rent for the next month, but we still needed to see other clients if we wanted to eat.
My stomach growled when Jinx mentioned our grocery budget, punctuating our need for food and reminding me that I’d skipped lunch again. I didn’t admit to forgetting to eat, but did agree to meet with Mrs. Hastings about her lost engagement ring, tomorrow afternoon. Who knows, we might be fighting off an each uisge invasion by then. Now that’s a happy thought. I shook off the gloomy mood and kept walking.
There was still an hour of daylight left, but the sun hung low in the sky. Tall brick and stone shop buildings, containing wares of every description, cast long shadows across the streets of the Old Port. This was a good thing.
We were in a shopping district heavily traveled by tourists, mostly day trippers off the ferryboat, and Marvin had a tendency to stand out in a crowd. Trolls are huge and, even with an active glamour to make him look human, Marvin was intimidating. Some of his bulk was hidden beneath a large olive green trench coat, but it stretched uncomfortably tight across his shoulders and was way too hot for the stifling evening heat. He looked like an overgrown teenager, but his glamour couldn’t entirely hide the oversized brow, broad shoulders, and enormous hands and feet.
I was also drawing unwanted attention. Somewhere between Jenny Greenteeth’s pool of water and the edge of the marsh, I had lost my sunglasses. My rush to be rid of the water hag and her incessant talk of kelpie man-parts versus equine-parts, had me running through the briars without any heed for the sun in my face. Now that we were back to civilization, I was ruing my lack of camouflage. My eyes were a peculiar amber color that tended to draw stares. Or maybe it was the bloody scratches that lined my legs.
We made an odd pair, me shielding my unusual eyes while self-consciously tugging the short skirt to cover my legs and Marvin huge and menacing in his army surplus gear. Our best bet was to stick to the shadows where we were less likely to be noticed. The last thing we needed was someone reporting us to the police as suspicious persons. I kept my private investigator license up-to-date, but Marvin was an underage homeless orphan, and a bridge troll to boot. I was betting that he didn’t carry any legal form of identification. Faeries, wingless or not, didn’t usually need a driver’s license and I was pretty sure that the Otherworld didn’t issue social security cards.
“Come on, big guy,” I said. “We’re almost there.”
I felt bad for Marvin who was obviously suffering beneath the trench coat. His brow was beaded with perspiration and his round cheeks and nose were bright red as he puffed his way up the hill that led away from the water. Most people would be complaining by now, but not Marvin. I suppose living on the streets meant he was used to discomfort. Thinking about the kid curled up under a bridge alone, made my chest ache. I was definitely treating him to something sweet.
As we turned up Wharf Street, I had a brilliant idea.
“You have any food allergies?” I asked.
Marvin lifted his head and rolled his eyes. I’d take that as a no. I had never heard of a Troll having allergies, but fae were tricky. Things that are totally safe for humans can be deadly to faeries. A benign flower, such as prickly gorse, can kill some of the small faerie breeds, so why not a type of food? Marvin didn’t seem concerned, so maybe trolls have stomachs with linings as tough as their hides. Considering their size, that would make sense.
“Okay, wait here,” I said.
I left Marvin, fanning himself and gasping for breath, in the shadows alongside an empty building. The front windows had been taped over with butcher paper that was yellowed and curling at the edges. It was unlikely that he’d get into trouble in the few minutes it would take me to duck into the ice cream parlor across the street, but I hustled anyway.
Once inside, I found the end of the queue wound back and forth through the small shop. I let out a sigh, folded my arms, and got in line. I shouldn’t have been surprised, not with the current heat wave, but the close proximity to other people made my skin itch.
At least the long line gave me plenty of time to decide what to order. With temperatures persisting in the nineties, I didn’t trust an ice cream to last the walk back to the office, not without melting into a gooey mess. Jinx deserved a cold treat though. Looking over the board, I found just the thing. I left the shop, juggling a chocolate sugar cone for me, a cherry shake for Jinx, and a huge banana split for Marvin.
The smile on the kid’s face was priceless. His teeth were broken and his lips were marred with bloody scabs, but at that moment his smile was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I rapidly blinked away tears. Heck, spending time with Marvin was making me soft.
We ate our ice creams in silence, trying to eat faster than they could melt. It was quite the race against the heat and didn’t leave much opportunity for talking. Marvin was nearly skipping as he bounced along, all sign of fatigue gone. In our sugar-induced glee, we made good time.
Marvin was licking his fingers as we approached the office, looking curiously at the Private Eye logo on our front window. He pointed to the picture and at me with brow raised, before stuffing his fingers back in his mouth.
“Yes, this is the place, Private Eye psychic detective agency,” I said. “I run this place with my friend, Jinx. I think you’ll like her. But, um, let me go inside first and take down some of our ward charms. I’ll be right back.”
Crap. The place was so cluttered with anti-faerie charms I didn’t know where to start. With a sigh, I headed for Jinx’s desk where she was getting up from her chair.
“Wow, you’re back,” she said smiling. I handed her the plastic cup filled with cherry shake. “Oh my gosh, thanks! I’ve been so busy, I forgot to eat lunch.”
Huh, that made two of us.
“We stopped at that new ice cream parlor up the street,” I said. “Their sugar cones are to die for.”
“We?” Jinx asked.
“Um, I brought a friend,” I said, biting my lip. “He’s outside and he’s…well, he’s not human. Marvin is a troll.”
“Dude, like, for real?” Jinx asked. I nodded. “Well, don’t make him wait outside. It’s a million degrees out on the street.”
“About that, we need to take down some of the anti-fae stuff first,” I said, waving my hand.
Her gaze took in the room, and the implications of what I’d said, and her shoulders slumped.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really,” I said. “He’s worth it. The kid saved my life today.”
I felt a chill as I remembered my foot hovering over the brink of the water hag’s lair. If it wasn’t for Marvin, my bones would be lining the bottom of that cesspool. Goose pimples pricked my skin and I fought to keep my ice cream in my stomach where it belonged.
“Girl, w
hat are you waiting for?” she said, tying a checkered apron around her waist. “We have some serious work to do.”
*****
Fifteen minutes later, we were achy and sweating, but all of the iron and anti-fae charms were safely tucked away in the back storage closet. I even found my spare set of sunglasses. Go me.
Jinx pushed a few stray strands of hair from her face and went to open the door. She waved Marvin inside with a smile.
“You must be Ivy’s friend, I’m Jess,” she said, hooking a thumb at her chest. Seeing a look of confusion on his face she added, “But some people call me Jinx.”
“It’s okay, Marvin,” I said. “She won’t bite. And we packed up everything iron, so it’s safe to come in.”
His face was flushed from the heat, but he managed to blush a shade darker as he walked past Jinx. Poor kid, she had that effect on guys. He pulled off the trench coat with a sigh, hanging it on the coat rack, and stepped in front of the fan that sat on top of the metal file cabinets beside the fedora wearing phrenology head. Closing his eyes, he let the fan wick the sweat from his face. The room filled with a slightly animal-smelling musk, but it wasn’t too gross and the kid had obviously been suffering.
I pretended to ignore Marvin’s attempts at personal cooling and turned to Jinx.
“You are not going to believe what happened today,” I said, sinking into the client chair in front of her desk.
I proceeded to tell her about the token we found, my vision at the bridge, our hike through the marsh, and the audience with Jenny Greenteeth. Jinx sucked in air and whistled when I told her about Jenny’s multiple personalities and how we made our escape.
“Wow, I always thought she was something my Gran made up to keep me from playing near the water,” she said.
“I wish,” I said, shaking my head. “She had an unhealthy obsession with water men, of every shape and size. I’m going to have nightmares for a week, after that visit.”
Jinx covered her mouth with one manicured hand and giggled.
“Sorry,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m sure it was horrible, and dangerous, but the way you distracted her is kind of hilarious, especially considering the source. I can’t imagine you talking about the hot kelpie man. You never talk about hot guys.”
“I do too,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
“No, you don’t, ever,” Jinx said.
“What about that guy at the dojo,” I said, remembering an evening not long ago.
“You admired his technique, while I admired his butt,” Jinx said. “It’s not the same thing.”
I glanced at Marvin who had turned a shade redder.
“Um, can we change the subject?” I asked, flicking my eyes at our guest.
Jinx just shrugged. She was never going to give up on her attempts to make me more normal, which included matchmaking, but now was not the time.
“Okay, so what next?” Jinx asked.
“I hate to ask, but were you able to finalize a contract with Forneus?” I asked.
“Yes, not that the demon bastard was much help,” Jinx said. She turned to Marvin and added, “Pardon my French.”
“What am I contracted to do exactly?” I asked.
I needed to know precisely what the job was. Not that I wouldn’t stay on the case if I felt my actions could save the city, but I needed to know the terms of our agreement. It would be just like a demon to let me do all the work, then weasel out of paying.
“You must use your second sight to help locate the bridle belonging to Ceffyl Dŵr, King of the Kelpies,” Jinx said. She used finger quotes, a pompous voice, and funny, bird-like gestures that made me think the words came direct from Father Michael.
“Okay, so I’m responsible for using my second sight and locating the bridle,” I said. “I’ve already had visions using the piece of bridle and the token found at the scene of the crime, so now I just have to find the rest of the bridle.”
“Yes, and Father Michael used his Deffakus thingy to make sure the demon was straight with us,” Jinx said. “That worm, Forneus, tried to slither out of every deal we made that involved him actually paying us for the job, but we finally found terms we could all agree on.”
She looked smug and I was suddenly glad not to be in Forneus’ shoes. He had finally met his match. There was a reason that Jinx handled all of our contracts. It’s not the fact that I suck at typing, which is not entirely my fault. Have you ever tried using a keyboard while wearing gloves?
Jinx was a natural at running the face-to-face client side of the business. Her smile was sugar sweet, but don’t let that fool you. Even without the mystical aid of The Deffakus, she had a finely honed nose for bullshit and a backbone made of steel. She set people at ease then made sure the terms of the job were crystal clear, and signed in triplicate. If someone tried to skip out on paying, she’d hound them like a Cù Sìth.
With her skills and Father Michael’s knowledge of the demonic, we should have a solid contract. I still crossed my fingers, toes too. We really needed to make rent next month and I wasn’t hopeful to get the cash elsewhere during this heat wave.
“Good, I should probably run upstairs and take care of these scratches,” I said, waving a hand at my bloody legs. “After that, Marvin and I will head back to The Emporium. Hob should be back in a few hours. We can hit the books until then. Hopefully Hob’s spying or Kaye’s calls to contacts in the hunter world will pay off.”
“I’m ordering us some take-out,” Jinx said. “You run on up and disinfect those scratches while I call for Chinese. It’s probably going to be another long night.”
As usual, she was right.
Chapter 13
I winced as Marvin let out another foul smelling belch. Trolls may not have deadly food allergies, but apparently they do have trouble digesting MSG. Kaye lit another stick of incense before coming back to sit at the table.
We were all seated around the table in Kaye’s kitchen, updating nautical charts and city maps with information we had discovered throughout the day. According to our new intel, the situation was much worse than we had first imagined. The timetable for saving Harborsmouth had been moved up, and none of us were happy about it. We needed a plan and we needed it yesterday.
Kaye pulled off her head kerchief, twisting it in her hands, black and silver hair sticking out in every direction. She looked like a raven with its feathers ruffled.
“By my wand, I don’t know who else to contact,” she said, sounding tired. “I’ve put out the call, by magic and mundane means, to every mage on the eastern seaboard and all hunters left in the city, but that is not enough.”
She slammed her fist on the table and a few sea glass markers bounced off the map. Kaye was worried. We all were. The bridle controlling the kelpie king needed to be located and the each uisge stopped, but we were running out of time. Meanwhile, the each uisge army was preparing for a battle that we could not hope to win on our own.
We needed the help of the kelpies, who would not fight without their king, their allies, and anyone else that we could convince to risk their lives. Kaye was waiting to hear back from her hunter contacts, but it was a depressingly short list. Most of the men and women whom she fought with in the past were either dead or retired. She was hoping to drag a few out of retirement, but even with the help of a dozen hunters, we remained vastly outnumbered.
Our maps indicated a feeding frenzy along beaches to the North and South. Emergency personnel were responding to multiple sites where human livers were reported to have washed up onto the shore. Local government officials had, as of this morning, declared beaches up and down the coast closed until the “shark threat could be fully ascertained and neutralized.”
We were also monitoring reports of possible human remains showing up in fishing nets in the waters just off the bay, so it was likely that commercial fishing operations would be effected as well. Hob had eavesdropped on more than one fisherman drowning his memory of hauling a human liver o
nto his boat. Some of the more superstitious fishermen were overheard saying that the waters off Harborsmouth were cursed, while others blamed the heat wave saying that it had brought man eating sharks to the bay. Whatever the reason, human organs caught up in fishing nets definitely didn’t seem sanitary and, let’s face it, gave a whole new meaning to “catch of the day.” The local fishing industry would be lucky to survive, even if we did win this war.
If you added missing person reports to the picture, it was likely that the each uisge were responsible for over fifty deaths in the past twenty-four hours. The deluge of unexplained violent deaths, especially when tempers were escalating due to the ongoing heat wave, was a ticking time bomb. The fishermen were already muttering about curses and local news networks were running the story non-stop while flashing screen stills from the movie Jaws. It wouldn’t be long before mass hysteria broke out within the city and surrounding seaside towns.
An angry panicked mob would cause unnecessary violence and destruction of property. In the ensuing chaos, more people would die. That was unacceptable. The each uisge had to be stopped now, before people had an opportunity to realize what was happening. Ignorance is bliss, right?
We also had a responsibility to keep the fae, and the use of magic, out of the public eye. Not only would evidence of faeries and witchcraft cause increased hysteria, it would also create an easy scapegoat for frightened humans. Men, women, and children were being attacked and devoured by vicious creatures that the average human could not understand. If they became aware of any unnatural beings residing within their city, they would probably shoot first and ask questions later.
There were hundreds of harmless fae people in and around the city, and a few magic users who call Harborsmouth their home. They would all be in grave danger if the human populace caught wind of their true nature.
It would be The Burning Times all over again.
We needed a plan for stopping the killing and halting the each uisge invasion into our city. The one advantage we had was the knowledge of where the enemy army would likely strike first. Each uisge are strongest in the water; they would launch their attack from the harbor, where the piers and jetties reach into the bay. If we could find a way to block their movement at the harbor, we stood a chance of breaking their momentum and possibly saving the city.
E J Stevens - [Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective 01] Page 13