by WB McKay
I tried not to let the guilt sink in. If I'd caught Clarissa at the market when she was right next to me, the pixies wouldn't have met such cruel fates. But I couldn't let that get to me. It was Clarissa's guilt to carry, not mine. But, still. "How many pixies?"
"I'm not sure. Before she got distracted by the ghosts, she was saying the scythe was cutting their souls free. It sounded like a lot was happening. Now, she's busy talking them into moving on before it's too late. It seems Xandra is being particularly difficult about it, understandably."
"Why is that understandable?"
"She's just died and found out her sister is a ghost, and now she has to decide whether to stay here as a ghost, or move on to some mysterious better place. It's one thing if you're dead and alone, but if you're dead and someone you love is there with you? Why move on to some unknown place?" He sat inside the crumpled back of the car and patted the spot next to him. "I'm not sure what I'd do."
"But Ava thinks they should go?"
"Oh, yes, quite adamantly. When I heard her snapping at Xandra I tried to tell her that I understood, but she cut me off. She's the expert. Then she told them she was sorry for the dying thing 'but you know, it happens to everyone.'"
I smiled. "Sounds like Ava."
"It does," he agreed.
Ava started toward us, but then turned back toward her tree. I watched her start toward us again and realized she was pacing. The pixies must have been stressing her out. I understood. Pixies always had that effect on me.
"She hasn't looked me in the eyes or spoken directly to me."
I took his hand and squeezed it, not knowing if that was the right thing to do. He gave me a sad smile.
Owen cleared his throat. "You didn't tell me about these glyphs." He pointed to the paint marks across the gravel.
"Yeah," I said. "You didn't notice them at the first crime scene?"
"I was busy with the explosion and getting yelled at. But there were glyphs there, too?"
"Yes, there were. MOD is looking into them, but doesn't know much. The homicide agents are looking into it, too. Art keeps checking in, but nothing. Hey, you knew they were glyphs. Do you know something about them?"
"Only that they're glyphs." He leaned forward, tilting his head this way and that to examine them at new angles. "I'll research them."
"Think you'll find something?"
"I usually do."
I bumped his arm. Such a proud dragon. "That'd be great. There are more in the barn." I pulled out my phone. "I'm emailing Art your address. He'll forward you the pics."
When I was finished, I didn't have anything to do again. "While you're at it with the research, like you don't already have enough to look into, maybe you could come up with a way for a witch to see through glamour. Particularly the glamour of pixies and reapers."
"That'll be a tough one." He looked excited about it.
It was a tough one. I knew Art would be emailing the MOD office about it, if he hadn't already, but I decided to send a reminder to his email, just in case. We needed all the help we could get.
When I looked up from my phone, Art was exiting the barn and jogging over toward us.
"That's done," he said. I didn't ask what Hammond said, and he didn't volunteer anything. "What happened to the car?" He looked at Owen. "And why are you here?"
I took a step away from the car, remembering how he'd shown up. If he'd been hurt, it would have been my fault. "You don't have any training," I told him, determined to stay calm and not yell at him for being an ignorant, disrespectful, fool. He needed to understand. He didn't know how easily everything could have turned sideways on him. If he'd come in the barn… I couldn't even handle thinking about what might have happened. "If you were hurt, that would have been my—our—" I gestured to Art and myself "—fault. Do you understand that?"
"I helped with the fire," he said, like that fixed everything.
"Art was handling it."
"I helped."
Art took a step away from the both of us, like he wasn't taking any side. Of course. He was the one who told Owen to stay behind back at the house, this was his case, but somehow, I was the bad guy. "We told you to stay behind," I said, reminding Art that he was my partner at the same time I scolded Owen.
"And I came anyway. What are you going to do? Arrest me?"
"You think that's a joke but we actually could, Owen."
He laughed at that. "What are you talking about?"
"Interfering in an investigation."
"You asked me to research!"
In three short steps I was right in his smug face. "And that makes you a FAB agent?"
"I helped."
I could have just slapped him. If anyone needed a healthy dose of fear right then, it was Owen. "Why are you doing this?" I yelled at him. "Go home!"
A white light flashed behind Owen, and seeing the look on my face, he turned toward it.
Ava stumbled to a stop at the edge of the gravel parking lot where Clarissa stood on one of the many glyphs. Her face was swollen and bleeding, but the black ichor was gone. I ran at her immediately, Owen and Art at my sides, but we were so very late. The scent of pixie magic swelled around us as Clarissa waved her arm and formed the swirling light that preceded pixie pockets.
My brain was overwhelmed with the shock of what that meant, but it didn't matter. All I had to do was get to her. Art had the restraints, but if I could just get to her, I wouldn't let go until she was behinds bars. If I could just—
Clarissa lunged for Ava. Ava flailed, but she was no match for Clarissa's strength or determination. I watched it all play out, knowing what was going to happen and unable to find a way to stop it. Clarissa pulled on Ava's arm, and just as fast, let go. Ava had no chance to slow her trajectory. Her wide eyes met mine before the swirling light closed in on her.
Like that strawberry in the market, Ava disappeared.
No. No. No.
The boys yelled, but they were no match for me. My shriek carried the force of all my rage, all my frustration, all my magic. The boys' cries took on a new pitch. Clarissa howled in agony. Her hands covered her ears and she wobbled on her feet. Art hit the ground. Owen stumbled forward like he was running through water, every step strenuous. Clarissa bawled even louder when her hands bumped the fresh wound on her cheek. I fully expected that by the time I reached her, she'd be passed out on the ground, so when she began to fall I wasn't surprised.
When the light enveloped her as she hit the gravel, a second before I grabbed empty air, I thought I was too far gone to feel disbelief. But I did.
She was gone again. And I couldn't believe it.
And this time, she had Ava.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Shock was a viscous fluid filling my head and slowing my thoughts.
Clarissa had used pixie magic. She'd absorbed their magic and been able to create a pixie pocket. Did that mean she would be able to fly? Would she grow wings? Would she shrink to pixie size?
In a disconnected way, I knew I wasn't processing what had happened. I shouldn't be obsessing over Clarissa's magic when she'd kidnapped Ava. Was there air in a pixie pocket? How much space was there? Would Ava be crushed? Did Clarissa even know how to take her back out?
I'd never been able to remove dangerous magical objects from a pixie pocket. I'd always had to convince the pixies to give the item over to me.
A long, anguished howl cut through the shock, allowing my thoughts to flow properly again. Owen. He was on his knees, his face turned to the sky. Ava was his sister. He'd watched his uncle die a few weeks ago, and now his sister was gone.
Art patted his shoulder in that awkward way people do when they see a serious emotion tearing apart someone they don't really know. Part of me wanted to do the same thing, just because I knew I needed to do something. Owen and I had been through hell together in Faerie. I should have known him well enough to know how to comfort him.
I knelt beside him and wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders. "We'r
e going to get her back, Owen. I promise."
Gradually, his breathing slowed, and he turned his gaze to meet mine.
"You're right, I'll find her. I have to." Owen's jaw set into a hard line and he pulled himself to his feet. "I'm not losing anyone else."
I stood beside him watching the play of emotions across his handsome features. He didn't say who the other he'd lost was, but I knew he meant his uncle Ewan. Watching him die had been hard for me and I had only met him a few hours before. He'd seemed like a good man. I still regretted not being able to take the necklace off him that had led him to his doom. There was no way we were losing Ava. Ava was my friend. That was a rare gift. I was reaching out to take his hand when I realized what he'd said. "Wait. You'll find her?"
"She's my sister. I have connections in the court. This witch doesn't stand a chance." He brushed the dust off his jeans when he stood.
"But you can't go on your own," I said, grabbing his hand, now an attempt to hold him back, rather than comfort him. "The FAB can help. I can help."
"I'm capable of doing things on my own," snapped Owen. "You've made it perfectly clear you don't want me around. I'll let you play with your precious FAB while I go rescue my sister."
I knew that everything he said was true. I had been trying to push him away. I couldn't fault him for saying he didn't want me to help him. But rage washed over me at his words. He was trying to make me feel small, and I wasn't about to take that from anyone. "Fine, dragon. Fly off. Crush things." I waved a hand at Ava's dented car. "Burn things. I'm sure that's the approach that will fix this."
"Sounds about right to me," said Owen, either not catching my sarcasm or not caring.
A burst of magical fire enveloped him and in the space of a heartbeat, his dragon form crouched before me, a little too close for comfort. The blast of air from his powerful wings pulling him into the air almost knocked me to the ground. By the time I'd recovered my balance, he was angling toward Volarus.
When I turned around, Art was already on the phone, relaying the details of our latest debacle to Hammond. Somehow he made it sound professional, instead of like a total disaster. By the end, I swear I heard Hammond say "keep up the good work".
"You'll have to tell me how that magic works sometime," I said, pointing at his phone.
"Well, a long time ago, there was this human named Alexander Graham Bell," said Art, giving me half a grin.
I smothered the laugh before it came up my throat. "Thanks, but I can't do the joking thing, not this time."
"But that's what we do."
"Not this time."
"You have to treat this like any other job," he reminded me.
"This is not like any other job, though. Ava is missing. Daphne is dead. And—"
"If you think like that, we'll never find her."
"If this was any other job, we wouldn't even be looking for her. We'd pass that on to other agents, and we'd go back to focusing on the scythe and Clarissa."
"The other agents are looking." Art went around the car and found Ava's keys in the cupholder. He tossed them to me. "She's your friend, right?"
"Yes." I looked right at that damn teleportation glyph, willing it to light up for me. My friend. I'd been alone for so long. Everyone around me was forced into keeping my company, except Ava. Ava was my friend, I was sure of it. "I don't know what to do," I admitted.
"You go back to Belinda's," he said. "Figure it out from there. One of us needs to be in the Wailing Lakes area since Clarissa has shown her face here more than once. I'm going to wait here for the other agents and the clean up crew to show. I'll get a ride from them. Keep me updated, all right?"
It was as much of a plan as I had right now, so I gave him a salute and climbed into the driver's seat. "Talk soon, boss man."
"Hey, Sophie?"
"Yeah?"
"Clarissa doesn't know that Ava can see ghosts, does she?"
I paled. "No."
"Good," said Art. "Don't worry about it then. I just wanted to be sure. I won't pass that on to anyone here, to keep that information quiet for the time being."
Not even Hammond knew, since when I hired her as a consultant I hadn't known how she found things, only that she did. I'd thought she was a seeker. If Clarissa knew who she had in her pixie pocket… who knew what she'd do with the ability to find ghosts anywhere.
"Sophie, I said don't worry about it," Art reminded me. "You have a job to do."
"Right." I got into the car, the need to find Ava burning even hotter than before. The drive back to Belinda's was short, but it seemed longer being in Ava's car. If it weren't for the distraction of the hatch flapping noisily in the back and causing cool air to rush in, I wasn't sure I could have made it.
Belinda was waiting at the door for me. She gave me a concerned look, but apparently I had on my bitch face because she let me slide past without question. I knew she wanted to ask about Ava and her car. Somewhere along the drive I'd come up with an idea. And while it might not help, it couldn't hurt, and it would make me feel better.
"Clarissa took Ava," I said, biting off the words.
Belinda's jaw tightened. "We have to get her back. What are you going to do?"
I loved that Belinda knew exactly what to say. Belinda didn't even know Ava, but she knew the weird little fae woman was my friend, and I didn't have many of those. She also knew that I wouldn't take a back seat when it came to finding her. I stalked toward the office, mentally preparing for what I was about to do. "I'm going to troll the hell out of the bitch."
"Trolls?" said Belinda with a shudder. "You think getting trolls involved in this will be helpful? As far as I know, the only thing they're good at is being annoying and shitting all over things."
"Not real life trolls, Belinda," I said, rolling my eyes. "Internet trolling. It's where… nevermind. Just don't worry about real trolls. I'd never purposely involve them."
Belinda nodded and slumped into her comfy chair, obviously relieved at not having to support my idea of using giant half-sentient fae in my scheme to get Ava back. Or maybe it was just relief at not having to worry about cleaning up after them. "Just let me know if you need anything," she said.
I hesitated for half a second and then said, "A sandwich would be amazing right now."
"One sandwich coming right up," said Belinda, popping out of her chair and heading toward the kitchen.
I ducked into the office, feeling like I was fifteen again. Belinda was making me a sandwich, and I was about to go stir up some serious internet drama.
It didn't take long to find evidence of Clarissa bragging online. It hadn't even been a half hour since I'd left the farm and already she'd posted about her successes in using fae magic on four forums. One person had even called bullshit already. While I watched, Clarissa posted a link to a video. It showed her stuffing a calendar with today's date circled into a pixie pocket.
I cracked my knuckles. That was my opportunity.
Fake! What the hell kind of fae magic is that anyway? That looks like a shitty kid's magician trick. If this DeathMaiden is so powerful, why won't she even show her face? Is she too afraid we'll call her on her bullshit in person? If it was real, that has to be the weakest fae magic in existence. Fear me, I can make stuff disappear into a bit of swirly light! Tremble before my awesomeness! Please! I could do more impressive things as a witch a week after I started practicing.
In true internet fashion, there were three more comments similar to mine in a matter of minutes. It was something that annoyed me about the internet most days, but it was working to my advantage for once. Clarissa responded with another video of her pulling random items out of a pixie pocket and this time she showed her face, nasty looking burn and all.
That was what I was hoping for. I went into my forum profile and changed all of my information to be my real info and made my next post as myself.
That is pixie magic. So yes, she has managed to do the weakest fae magic there is, and to do it, she had to murder half a d
ozen innocent pixies. She is a weak piece of shit. Look at her face. I kicked her ass and burnt half her face off before she ran away like a scared little bunny. The next time I see her, I will destroy her. And yes, I mean that literally. I will show her what real fae magic looks like. There will be nothing left for her imaginary friends to bury.
I closed the web browser and hopped up from the computer, my simmering rage propelling me into motion, though I had nowhere to go. I had no idea how to find Clarissa, and if Owen did, I doubted he would tell me. Absently, I noticed the sandwich I'd asked for, sitting next to the computer. I was too angry to eat it now.
I stalked out of the computer room and flopped dramatically on the couch. Belinda's appraising gaze met mine, and I knew she was done keeping silent.
My body shifted, ready to bolt from the room, but she raised a hand. "Stay," she said in a firm command. "I have some things I would like to say to you."
"Fine," I said, burrowing deeper into the couch. I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but I didn't care. I didn't want her advice. I didn't need her to take care of me. She'd done enough of that when I was a child. "What is it?"
She sat silently for long enough that I thought she might have changed her mind. When she finally spoke there was a sadness in her voice that I only ever remembered being there when she spoke prophecy. But this was no prophecy.
"I feel like I've failed you, Sophie."
I opened my mouth to object, but a stern glare silenced me.
"I allowed you to grow up feeling like you were a burden to me when you were my greatest joy. When you came into my life, I hadn't yet buried my resentment for The Morrigan. It took me a while to let that resentment go, and it affected you as a young child. I think you could feel my anger at The Morrigan and you thought it was because I felt burdened by you. It was only my anger at her abandonment of me and all of our sisters that you felt.
"I told myself you left this house at such a young age because you were so fiercely independent, but I know now that isn't the only reason. I can see in the way you try not to let me care for you that you think you are a burden." Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. I wanted to get up and refute everything she was saying because it was hurting her, but I couldn't. "Even worse, I see it in your relationship with Owen. He wants nothing more than to help you because he cares for you, but you won't allow it, and that is my fault."