“How did you know?” No graciousness at all. Not a drop from this guy.
“Hello, lieutenant.” I said.
“How did you know about the tattoo?”
“Just a hunch, Kapok.”
“Hunch. Baloney,” he replied.
“I prefer malarkey over baloney. Except on a sandwich. Then it’s the other way around.”
Kapok ignored me. “What’s going on? What do you know about this mess? Who is this guy?”
“Never met him before today. But I’ll make a deal with you. I have some leads I want to follow. If they pan out, I’ll give you a heads up and the arrest will be all yours.”
“Why not tell me now?”
“Wouldn’t want to waste the time and resources of the City of Miami Police Department on baloney.”
Even over the phone I could hear Kapok licking his lips while he took a minute to think it over.
“This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” I said.
“Screw your friendship. I expect you to tell me everything you know when you know it.”
Kapok would have to get in line behind Chief Cuevas and Milly Mallondyke’s father.
“It’s a deal, detective. So what happened with Mr. Charles Mayer?”
Kapok coughed it all up like a cat with a hairball.
* * *
“This is really beautiful,” Erin said. She was walking around the house checking the layout and the decorations. She’d kicked off her shoes the second she’d come through the door and I realized I had never seen her without heels. She was still tall and gorgeous. She’d changed into a deep maroon summer dress before coming over. I wore jeans and a pullover.
I’d told her it was the Alder King’s house by mortgage, but I had done the interior design, and the furniture and artwork were mine. I was pleased she thought the place was beautiful.
I followed her into the great room. The piano remained unrepaired.
“Ooo,” she said. She ran her fingers into the gouges on the piano. “Madrasceartán?”
“Yep. Madeira-is-certain. Whatever you said.”
Erin laughed and it was musical. “You’ll need to learn how to pronounce words precisely if you expect to cast a spell,” she said.
“Then I will have to work on that.”
She lifted the fallboard and ran her fingers down the keys, but not hard enough to make a note. I could still hear the whispering sound of her skin caressing the keyboard.
“Do you play?” she asked.
“But of course,” I replied.
I sat down on the bench and pretended to crack my knuckles. “Name a song. Any song at all.”
She thought for a moment and said, “‘Claire de Lune.’”
I placed my hands on the keyboard. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back and struck a key, sounding a single note. “There you go. Gimme another one. I can play the first note of anything. As long I get to choose the key it’s in.”
Erin laughed again. “So you’re a poser.”
“I am. I really am.”
Then I played. The selection included a lot of runs up and down the keyboard and the music flowed with a lyrical style that was satisfying to play. After the first couple of minutes Erin sat down on the bench. By the time I finished the piece, she had her head on my shoulder. The world was a bright and shining place.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Beethoven. Piano Sonata Number 21. Third Movement. I picked it because when I’m not a poser I’m a shameless show off.”
She was quiet for a minute. Then, “How long have we known each other, Got?”
“Four years. At least that’s when I remember meeting you. It was when I was on the force. Popsicle Killer case.”
“Oh. I guess I didn’t notice you then. I just remember when you got in hot water with the Chief. About six months before you quit. Or were told to quit.”
“Not my finest hour,” I said.
“Everyone at the station knows you were railroaded out. And now you’re a mysterious private investigator. Like Sam Spade.”
“Ah. Now we’re back to me being a poser,” I said. She smiled. “Hey, I have a question for you.”
She lifted her head off my shoulder and I instantly wished she would put in back. “All right,” she replied.
“Since we’re allergic to steel, what do you use for tools in the lab?”
“Sterling silver,” she answered. “It’s just the iron in the steel that affects the Fae. Iron weapons can make wounds that won’t heal in our folk. So my instruments are sterling silver. It costs a lot more but there’s no iron. Just silver and copper. A dwarf makes them for me.”
“A dwarf? As in a short guy or an actual . . .”
“Dwarf. Yeah. A race of people whose stature is naturally under five feet tall, just like in the movies. Impeccable craftsmanship. Great beards.”
Sandretta appeared at the entry for the dining room. She stepped softly, not wanting to break the moment, and she waited until both Erin and I noticed her before she gave us a nod and said, “Dinner is ready.”
“Okay. Dinner and then magic,” I said.
I followed Erin and made sure she was seated comfortably. The place settings were silver—always had been—and it occurred to me now that there was a reason for that. Max had gone Italian since we hadn’t been able to have an Italian meal earlier in the day. Pasta primavera followed by a saltimbocca, which was a veal dish with sage and prosciutto di parma. Tender and flavorful enough to put any Robaccio chef to shame. This was served with a Barbaresco wine, perfectly matched. There was no wine with dessert, which was probably smart, but there was sparkling San Pellegrino along with some fruit and cheese and sweet little cannoli Max had made.
During dinner we had managed to avoid the subject of work until the cannoli.
“So what happened with the guy in the truck?” Erin finally asked.
“He was enchanted,” I said. “He was convinced that I was somehow involved in the death of his daughter. He said he’d been trying to kill me out of vengeance. He confessed to shooting at me through the window of my office. The police found a sniper rifle in the back of his truck.”
“What had him so convinced?” Erin asked.
“He had some photos with him. They looked blank to me. To him, however, they looked like photos of me and his daughter.” I didn’t tell her what Mayer had accused me of doing. “He also had a tattoo on the back of his neck. I think it was magic. They washed it off and now he’s a completely different person.”
“They don’t think it was magic, do they?”
“I’ve already got the detective in charge thinking that there’s some kind of drug responsible.”
“Okay. Maybe we can work with that,” Erin said. “People are rather blind to magic. They’ll be more likely to accept that story.”
“I thought they might. They’re holding Mayer overnight. I’m going to see him again in the morning.”
“Did he really have a daughter?” Erin asked.
“I checked into it. He had a daughter all right. She died about a year ago of a drug overdose. Sad story.”
“The best deceptions are based on fact,” Erin said. “Someone knew about this poor man and used the tragic events of his actual past to turn him against you.”
“That’s my guess.”
“Too bad we don’t know who did this to him. That’s the person we need to find. That’s the person responsible for almost killing us.”
“Ah. But I do have a connection.” Luck the Triumphant. That’s me.
I led Erin from the table to the couch. Sandretta brought out coffee while I retrieved the napkin and the bullet casing in the baggie. I showed her the casing first. “We probably don’t even need this anymore, now that we have Mayer in custody. But this should match the
bullet I brought in.”
I held up the folded napkin. “This is a little more interesting. I don’t find it agreeable to look at and I’m guessing you won’t either.” I unfolded the cloth.
As before, the drawing was alive. Erin’s reaction was quick. “Where did you find that?”
“It was on the back of Barry Mallondyke’s neck. I copied this from the medical examiner’s report.”
Erin looked more closely. “I must have missed seeing this when the report was filed.”
“It was faded. The tattoo was temporary and was gone when the body was washed. I copied it because it was the only thing that jumped out at me. The Alder King’s liondog placed a sigil on my forehead and here was this on Mallondyke. Max told me it would allow the caster to control him.”
“It would.” Erin went back to the table and grabbed a knife. She brought it back and cut through the circle of the drawing. The symbol almost gave a sigh and the lines coalesced. It was just a drawing now.
“If you’d put a little power into it, that would have been a working spell,” she said. “You were playing with fire, Got.”
“I didn’t know,” I said. Lame.
“Lucky for you, you’ve got me,” she replied. “Which way to the kitchen?” I led her there. The kitchen was already immaculately clean after the dinner Max had made. Everything was put away and there was no sign that a culinary artist had been at work.
We found some matches and burned the napkin in the sink. We watched the flame consume the paper, then we washed the ashes down the sink and the design was no more.
Erin put a soft hand on my arm and said, “I think it’s time for that magic lesson.”
Chapter Twelve
Magic Lesson
“My first partner, the guy who trained me on the force, had a saying. He said that coincidence is what happens before you have enough information.”
“So Mallondyke and Mayer are part of the same plan?” Erin asked.
“I need more information, but I don’t believe in coincidence. A few days ago, I’d never seen anyone with tattoos like these and now I’ve seen two of them connected to tragedy and murder. There’s something going on.”
I related my encounter in the yoga class at the Iron Foundry with Evie, a.k.a. Béil, a.k.a. the Blue Tiger.
“She said something is coming. Something is happening in the other realms that we aren’t prepared to fight. She said terror and destruction were coming and we would need her help. She wants recognition, which she was completely open about. She also has a hard time talking. I felt bad for her.”
“Don’t. She’s a predator in every sense of the word.”
“I see,” I said.
“Plus she’s crazy,” Erin added.
“That’s also true.” That green tinge had come up in Erin’s eyes. I wondered if Erin was feeling a little jealous, which was fine with me. “So you can heal. Can I do that?”
“Too soon to tell,” she replied. “We’ll have to see what you’re good at. There are different talents for different people. They can be loosely classified as one of the four elements: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. I’m primarily Water, which gives me an affinity for healing. Water is like the blood of the world, constantly moving and nourishing and cleansing everything. There are resources formed into oceans and lakes and rivers and, of course, rain. My power feels a lot like that, especially in the Behindbeyond.”
“You are definitely amazing,” I said. “I’m glad you have that ability.”
“I’m also good at Psychometry, which allows me to see the history of objects. Who has touched something and where it came from. Comes in very handy for solving cases.”
“Wait, you can tell where an object has been?”
“It’s not like I see the history of something just looking at it or picking it up. It takes a spell and a substantial amount of magical power. But yes, when I want I can see where an object has been. And who has handled it. How do you think I made medical examiner so young?”
“You cheated.”
She laughed at that. And it sounded just a little bit evil.
We were back in the great room. She pointed at my collection of magazines on the shelves. “You have National Geographic, Nature, Science—quite the collection.”
I shrugged. “I’ve always been interested in the physical world.” I pointed at a row of photos. Me on Mt. McKinley. Me snorkeling in Hawaii. Some of the photos had me smiling with pretty girls. I hoped Erin wouldn’t mind. “Getting out into nature is relaxing.”
“Then you might be attuned to Earth, which would be amazing. There hasn’t been a real Earth Mage for centuries. Except for the Alder King.”
Erin’s eyes were full-on green now. She was excited about this.
“What’s so special about being an Earth Mage?”
“Earth Mages have an affinity for almost everything. They can be immersed in all the elements. They could be adept at Water, Air, or Fire magic. Or all of them. And they have abilities usually unique to them alone.”
“Like what?” Seeing Stains?
Erin shook her head. “Not yet. We’re going to try a few things first. And you have to be very careful.”
“Why is that?”
“The Earth is full of her own power. Earth Mages hear the call of Earth and feel the power that is just beneath us all the time. Earth Mages recharge their powers very quickly, especially when in contact with open ground. But you can never be tempted to use that power directly. Ever.”
“No?”
“Everyone who’s tried to use the power of the earth as a source died instantly and messily. The power is too great to be borne by flesh and they basically exploded, killing themselves and anyone and anything nearby.”
“So I could use it once.” I smiled.
“That’s not funny.” Erin looked appalled.
“Okay. No direct use of earth power. Got it.”
“It would also be good to talk to Keeper, I think. Maybe we can do that tomorrow.”
“Who’s Keeper?” I asked.
“Oh, you’ll like him. But you’re going to have to let a girl keep her secrets for now.”
Hmm. That was pretty much the same thing Evie had said. Women.
“We have work to do,” Erin continued. “And the first thing to consider are the words you’ll need to use. Some spells require long phrases to accomplish. Like a summoning. But a lot of spells use a single word.”
I’d picked a good helpmeet. You can always tell when a teacher likes the subject matter. Erin tucked her hair behind her ear, probably to cut down on the wind resistance, because she spoke a mile a minute.
“The words themselves have no power. It’s like a trigger on a gun. If you found a trigger lying on the ground, it’s just a piece of metal. If you attach a trigger to a gun, though, and load the gun with bullets, then you have a lethal weapon.”
“Gotcha.”
“Similar to a gun, magic needs three things: a power source, a focus, and a trigger. A lot of people can use magic without a separate focus—but they’re using their own bodies for a focus and that can be detrimental. It can kill you. It’s much better to use another object for a focus. Then if the magic destroys it, you can always make another one. It’s how magic wands came to be so widely known. Nowadays, we’d look ridiculous carrying wands around, so we use other things as a focus.”
“I think I could pull off carrying a wand around. I make everything look good.”
Erin shook her head with a smirk. She went to her purse and brought out her medallion, the one she’d used to heal me. She laid it in my hand. “Now sneeze,” she said.
“Urm. What?”
She laughed. “You have to draw out your power so you can use it. It’s kind of like making yourself sneeze by just thinking about it. It’s the energy inside you, but you have to open your
mind and mentally produce a natural physical action. It probably won’t be that hard for you. Your power wants to be used.”
She turned her back and slipped her dress off the curve of her shoulder. Zowie. Nice shoulder. Across the top of her shoulder blade were the remains of an ugly bruise. That must have been really bad if it hadn’t healed by now.
“Put the medallion on the bruise,” she said. I wanted to do what she asked but I hesitated. “Are you shy, my husband?”
That threw me off. “Well. Uh. I don’t want to make a mistake. Or hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she said. “I’ll guide you the whole way.”
This conversation was getting awkward fast.
I put the medallion on top of the bruise as gently as I could.
“Good,” Erin said. “Now open up and let some power flow into the silver. Imagine a thread of blue flowing from the center of your body and out through your hand. You’ll feel it physically when it happens.”
I tried to imagine it happening the way she said. It didn’t work.
I closed my eyes and gave it all my concentration for a full minute but there was nothing. I tried again. And again. The wait was getting embarrassing.
Just as I relaxed, I felt a pleasant tingle flash from the middle of my chest and dart down my arm and through my hand. It threatened to grow into a flood. The power had found an outlet and it urgently wanted release. It felt like the silver was pulling the energy out of me and I had to make an effort to slow it down. Erin had said only a thread was needed. In time with the beating of my heart, I let thread after thread pulse from my center. I opened my eyes and found a cool, blue glow forming beneath my hand.
“Achoo,” I said.
“Very good,” Erin smiled. “Now you have to say the magic word.”
“Please?”
“No, but you’re going to laugh. The word to heal is ‘leigheas.’”
I did laugh. It sounded like “lice.” Usually not a word associated with healing. Dutifully, however, I said it. “Leigheas.”
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