By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel

by Meghan Maslow

  And maybe he was. I suddenly wondered if he really had known what being an indentured servant entailed. But it would be better than a long stint in a cold, dank dungeon. He’d done well for himself all things considered. I wondered if he . . .

  No, I didn’t need to know. Knowing too much about others meant I might develop empathy for them, and really there wasn’t room in a dragon’s life for those kinds of soft emotions. Not really in a fairy’s life either, come to think of it.

  He shivered, and I smelled his sudden anxiety. I could almost see the wheels turning as he tried to play out the different scenarios. “Y-you won’t tell Brandsome that we won’t be having sex, will you?”

  For some reason this made my throat feel tight, so I knelt down next to him again. He winced before he could stop himself, but didn’t move away. I gripped his chin and tilted his head until he had to look at me. He sucked in a pained breath, his eyes going wide and wary once again.

  “I’m not going to tell Brandsome anything. He can assume what he wants.”

  His eyes searched mine, a glimmer of hope appearing before his lids slammed closed. He gave me a stiff nod.

  He didn’t believe me.

  “You won’t be mistreated on my watch. I need you to trust me because you won’t be much use to me if you keep jumping every time I look your way. Do you think you can do that for me?”

  “Of course, sir.” He swallowed, and wouldn’t meet my eyes. Lying again. Not that I was surprised. Even a runty half-dragon like me would seem pretty fierce to a human. I probably didn’t inspire trust or any other safe emotion. And in his former line of work, trust was an emotion that could get you killed. Still . . .

  “Quinn, I need you to try.” I smoothed my knuckles over his cheek enjoying the barest feel of blond stubble before I stood and gave him some space to think things over.

  “You know my name.” He said it like it was unfathomable, a hint of awe in his voice.

  “Yes. I wouldn’t be a good detective if I didn’t pay attention. Quinn Broomsparkle, right?” I smiled. “Also, I don’t want you calling me ‘sir.’ It gives me the creeps. Just call me Twig.”

  “O-Okay.” His expression shifted between cautious and hopeful. He’d learn soon enough I meant him no harm and wouldn’t be reporting back to Brandsome on anything.

  “So are you going to tell me the real story with Rainbowpebbles?” I returned to my seat, and signaled for him to return to his.

  He hesitated to do so, though after a moment, his jaw firmed and he slid back into his chair.

  “Brandsome and Lapus like to play cards together. Both are inveterate cheats.”

  My jaw had to be on the ground.

  “Unicorns gamble?” My voice couldn’t sound more scandalized if I tried.

  Quinn chuckled. “Oh yeah . . . sir. . . . I mean, Twig. He likes to drink anything he can get his hooves on, and he smokes jiggyweed at every opportunity. When he thinks no one is listening he whispers curse words. In several languages.”

  I shook my head. Mind officially blown.

  “So, Rainbowpebbles slipped him some bluebell nectar in order to win?”

  Quinn wrinkled his nose like he smelled something rotten. “Hardly. Brandsome could drink a barrel of the stuff and still keep his wits about him. No, he just wasn’t as good a cheat that evening as Lapus. You could say his greed got the better of him.”

  I sat back, steepled my fingers. “Explain.”

  Quinn gingerly leaned back in his chair, gripped the armrests like I might tell him to kneel instead. “I told you, he’s not a good person. At first, he tried to use me as part of the bet, but as much as Lapus would have jumped at the chance on another day, he was obviously fixated on having Brandsome’s horn.”

  “What does he want with it?”

  Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. But he’s tried to get Brandsome to trade me to him for some of his clientele on numerous occasions. A human fetish is big business here. Especially males.” His voice was bitter as he said the words. “It wasn’t any kindness on Brandsome’s part that he didn’t do it. He was just waiting for the right deal. That’s why I was surprised when he offered me up and Lapus didn’t accept.”

  My stomach lurched at the image of a human—or anyone—being traded to Rainbowpebbles. He was one sick little fuck.

  “What did Brandsome think was worth trading your, uh, service for, and that he’d willingly bet his horn?” Unicorns were supposed to be full of sunshine and love. This did not fit my picture of them. At all. Could I believe this thief? My dragon believed him, that much was clear.

  Quinn swallowed. “The blood of a virgin sprite.”

  “You mean, he holds a captive child?” I heard the growl in my voice, smoke puffed from my nose, and Quinn drew back as though I meant to roast him alive.

  “No, no, an adult.” He held his hands up in a calming gesture.

  “Impossible.” Everyone knew how amorous—some might even say undiscerning—sprites were. No way a sprite reached maturity with virginity intact.

  “He showed her to us. She had the halo of a virgin still.” He blushed when he said this. It was surprisingly sweet.

  I couldn’t even imagine what the sprite must look like. I’d heard of the halo virginal sprites had when they matured, of course, but so few creatures had ever seen it. As I said, sprites weren’t known for their abstinence. “And he wasn’t trading her virginity?”

  “No,” Quinn lowered his voice like he feared we’d be overheard. “Apparently virgin sprite blood is a rare delicacy. Brandsome is very fond of having things no one else has. It’s his weakness. Well, among others. He had to have her. Or some of her blood at any rate. Did I mention he loves a good Bloody Mary?”

  “So he bet his horn?” I shouldn’t be so surprised. Lots of creatures did dumb things, but I’d always believed unicorns were so . . . pure. And noble. Kind of ruined the fantasy.

  “That about sums it up.”

  “And now I have to retrieve it.” I sighed. I really should have turned down this case.

  “I told you to be careful. He’s . . . well, maybe not quite evil, but he’s a really, really bad person. Selfish, greedy, arrogant. Only no one ever sees it. They only see his beauty. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s part of a unicorn’s magic. Just once I’d like to see someone immune to him.” His voice had turned bitter once again. Quinn glanced down, tugged at his collar. “Anyway, that’s what you need to know before you confront Lapus.”

  “What properties does his horn have?” Of course unicorn horns were highly magical. But obviously Brandsome still possessed a strong measure of magic even without it.

  “Mostly Brandsome used it to force people to tell the truth. You can’t lie to a unicorn because of his horn’s magic. Believe me, I’ve tried. That’s why he’s so keen to get it back. He has a big meeting with Glitter Apparel at the end of the month and wants to use it for renegotiating their contract.”

  “That could be useful.” I scratched my chin, the stubble thick and coarse against my fingertips. “What else does it do?”

  “Believe it or not, it enhances his sex appeal. You think you were a blithering idiot with him before, you should see what would happen when he has the horn. You’d still be singing his praises, offering to work for free, and probably writing some really bad poetry in his honor. I’ve seen it.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say ‘blithering idiot’.”

  “Mmm, of course not.” Quinn didn’t meet my eye, but I swear his mouth turned up in just the hint of a smile.

  I might have smiled back. I moved toward the front office and he jumped up to follow, his sack gripped tight in his arms.

  “I’ll get you settled in my guest room, then head out to the Steamy Bean.” I looked back over my shoulder and grimaced. “I might as well get this job over with.”

  3

  Quinn swallowed audibly, trailed me out of the office and up a narrow staircase to a door at the top of the steps. I touched my hand to the lock and
it released. Entering my domain, I welcomed him inside, let him take in the sparsely furnished living room, with large red and gold silk pillows and wall-hangings covering almost every available surface. This was only one of my bolt-holes and not where I kept my hoard, but I still wanted to be comfortable. Carved chests artfully decorated the corners of the room, and a low, long table with the same carvings, sat in the middle, surrounded by a silk mound of pillows.

  Quinn’s head swiveled as he took in everything, his back pressed to the door. Couldn’t blame him. Until the truce of Cairnsdaught, dragons enjoyed snacking on little humans like him. Most fairies wouldn’t harm humans intentionally, but they didn’t understand a lot of human’s odd customs, like modesty, and monogamy. Since dragons—if they mated—did so for life, I held a different perspective on that, but fairies liked to ensorcel humans to act out dramas for their amusement, not understanding that their meddling could break up families. It’s one of the reasons the High Council came down hard on having non-magical humans in the Elder. It caused a glut of paperwork when they’d get injured; a real inconvenience for the Council.

  I showed Quinn the spare bedroom. Not very spacious, but it contained a nest-like bed with a pile of warm pelts and a beautifully carved dresser with gold filament inlay and a matching mirror. I’d hung a large dark green tapestry depicting a simple forest dragon toasting a knight into popcorn. Probably not the most comforting of scenes, but what was the probability I’d have a real live human male in my home? I’d matched the wall-hanging to gauzy silk curtains that framed a tiny stained-glass window.

  “Your place is not what I pictured.” Quinn fumbled with his bag, placed it on his bedding.

  “You assumed I would live in a cold, dank cave, right?”

  “Well, yeah, kind of.”

  I grimaced. Dragons got a bad rap in the decorating department, but the truth was we liked beautiful things. Shiny things. Gold, and silk, and men like Quinn who—now that Brandsome was out of range—I could really appreciate for his almost pretty features. A square jaw and strong cheekbones kept a slightly harder edge to his face, but his long lashes and lush mouth made me instantly think bed slave. No wonder he’d been sold to Brandsome.

  I blinked, trying to remember what we were just discussing. Dank, dark caves. Right.

  “Dragons have great taste. We’re actually quite refined.” I made sure to avoid looking at him when I said it as if he could read my thoughts. I also didn’t add, when we’re not eating humans. Meh, didn’t need to be said.

  His gaze lingered on me like a caress for a moment before he turned back to the rest of the room.

  “You really do have great taste,” he conceded.

  “Let’s get something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

  Fifteen minutes later, I heated up some of my world famous harebringers stew, a stew so tasty one bowl simply wasn’t enough.

  Quinn and I sat across from each other at my table, each of us perched on a large pile of pillows. Quinn kept adjusting his and trying to kneel which put him at an awkward height to the table. I gestured for him to sit, but he still seemed unsure. Well, he’d have to get used to it. No reason to kneel in my presence.

  I held up my spoon in salute and took a bite of the stew. Nothing like it in the Elder. I learned it on one of my trips to the Hominus Realm. An old witch taught it to me in exchange for some help with a particularly troublesome troll. Believe me, I got the better end of the deal.

  Quinn shifted his spoon around in his bowl, but I didn’t see him eat. I dug into my second helping before I finally said, “Try it.”

  He wrinkled his nose just slightly, then realized what he was doing.

  “Sorry,” he blurted out and quickly took a bite.

  “I’m not going to punish you if you don’t like it, you know.”

  He looked up at me with the wariest expression I’d ever seen and I knew he had indeed been punished for something similar. Then his expression relaxed.

  “Oh, wow, this is so good.” He spooned in another bite then began shoveling it in.

  “Hey, hey, there’s plenty more where that came from. No need to rush.” Though I understood how hard it was to resist.

  “What’s in this?” he asked between bites.

  “I’d tell you, except then I’d have to kill you,” I teased.

  He paled.

  Ah, crap.

  “I’m joking.” I huffed. “Look, I get that I’m a big scary guy, but I’ve given you my word I’ll do you no harm.”

  “I-I believe you.”

  “I doubt it. It’s okay. I get it.”

  “May I have another bowl of stew, please?” He cleared his throat.

  I ladled some into his bowl. “Aren’t you allowed seconds normally?”

  Keeping his eyes on his dish, Quinn shook his head.

  I waited until he’d finished chewing before I asked, “Why not?”

  His jaw firmed. “Brandsome didn’t want me to get fat. Said I needed to keep his asset in tip top shape. Never know who he’ll need to lend me to for a night or two.”

  What did you say to something like that?

  “You don’t have to be anything for me, Quinn. If you want to wear regular clothes and go without the face-paint, and eat seconds at every meal, that’s fine. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped with all the pheromone sprays and perfumes; they give me a headache. Unfortunately, I can’t take off your collar, since technically you still belong to Brandsome.”

  “Why are you being so nice?” Quinn pushed his empty dish away.

  “I’m not. I’m treating you like any guest who stays under my roof.”

  “No one treats human males like others. Not in the Elder. You heard Brandsome. Without magic of my own, I’m little more than a glorified sex toy.” He began humming a lullaby I’d heard mothers in the Hominus Realm sing to their sleepy children. A pretty song. Too bad after the first few bars he stiffened and went silent, not meeting my eyes. “Sorry. Bad habit.”

  Humming is a bad habit?

  “I don’t mind. It was nice.”

  “Brandsome hates it. I’m not supposed to do it.”

  “I’m not Brandsome.”

  “I wouldn’t want to bother you. Lots of Elderians don’t like human music.” Quinn readjusted himself on his pillows, still avoiding eye contact.

  “You forget, I’m not from the Elder. I don’t agree with several things creatures here do. Including the stupid social hierarchy. Who cares whether you’re a member of the Alphae Guild or the Lovely Creatures Guild or an indentured servant? It doesn’t make you a better person, regardless what others claim.”

  As if my blasphemy called forth he-who-was-most-invested in the Elder’s status system, we both heard a resounding pop. Quinn flung himself backwards. Only one person could get through my wards with ease. I sighed.

  “Hi, Dad. I thought I asked you to knock first.” Turning my attention to the figure no more than eight inches tall standing in the middle of my table, I raised an eyebrow.

  “You shouldn’t have taken on an indentured servant. Especially not a human.” He gestured vaguely in Quinn’s direction without ever looking at Quinn.

  “Nice to see you, too.”

  He harrumphed. My dad excelled at that sound. It conveyed a whole realm of disappointment in just those few syllables.

  “Well?” he finally snapped when I didn’t respond to his question. He drew himself up to his full eight inches. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I—”

  “You’re a Starfig, son. Start acting like one.” He jerked on his purple silk toga like it did him some grievous wrong. My dad always wore the most elaborate getup of any fairy I’d ever seen. It lent an air of formality to his garb others didn’t have. A large gold brooch pinned cascading layers of cloth onto one shoulder. The brooch bore an official insignia of the Alphae Guild and proudly displayed my father’s rank as a senior council member, a coveted spot among fairy kind.


  “But—”

  “If I wanted excuses, I would hold a council meeting.” His lips compressed into a thin line.

  “It’s not what—”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For what exactly?”

  He harrumphed again. “An explanation, obviously.”

  “Then you’ll have to let me get a word in—”

  “Just like you to try to avoid the subject. My own son, incapable of getting to the point.” Then he smiled in a way that made my skin crawl and patted my knuckle. “Now, you’re acting like a council member. I’ll train you up yet, boy.”

  I shuddered.

  “I’m not going for a seat on the council. As it is, they barely tolerate me and only because I’m your son.” I glanced at Quinn who goggled at us both. His gaze bounced from me to my father and back again. Yeah, hard to understand, I know. My father possessed the fine features and slender figure associated with fairy folk as well as a distinguished cascade of silver hair. I took after my mother’s side with my messy hair that looked black except in the right light, strong features, and fighter’s build. That my father didn’t even come to the top of my shin only added to the lack of resemblance.

  “Nonsense.” My father reclaimed my attention with his peevish tone. “You’ve been accepted into the ranks of premier fairy, fae, and sprites. You have the same opportunity as anyone else—”

  “Lucky me. So good of the Alphae to accept a half-breed bastard into their glorious ranks.”

  “—It even says so in Coppernials Bylaws, Book 135, Page 1745, paragraph B, subsection 3.041. Do I need to show it to you so you’ll finally believe it?”

  An old argument.

  “Dad, you can legislate it all you want, but as far as most Alphae are concerned, I’m little more than a freak of nature. You should have left me in the Lovely Creatures Guild.”

  He snorted. “No Starfig will be in Last Chance Guild while there’s breath in my body. You’d never be able to hold a council seat.”