by Lyra Evans
“He was my friend,” Cobalt said, perhaps admitting aloud what he apparently thought he’d already made clear. “Indy was my best friend. And I his. Since we were children.”
What Niko was expecting wasn’t that. And suddenly the writing in the letter seemed all the more desperate and personal. Somehow, he felt wrong having read it. He tried to compartmentalize that thought too and the feeling that came with it. But the knowledge that there was no one in Niko’s life he might write a similar letter to wouldn’t leave him. He placed the letter down on the table, needing it out of his hands, and turned physically to the wall again, as if looking for evidence in a new light. But it was mostly because he couldn’t look at Cobalt directly anymore. His frown deepened.
“I’d say that definitely counts as more,” Niko said, his voice gruff. He coughed to cover the fact that his throat was tight. “You should have told me upfront.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Cobalt said, his voice low.
“So why weren’t you with him on the trip?” Niko asked, pushing forward though his heart beat in his chest. “Why didn’t you take your Landwalks at the same time, if you were best friends?”
Cobalt stepped nearer, his presence bleeding on to Niko’s skin and through him. He’d never felt someone so acutely without actually touching them.
“I am a few years older than Indy,” he said. “It was that simple. The tradition is specific regarding when Landwalks occur.” A moment’s silence, then he added, “But I wanted to. I wanted to join him anyway. As a precaution.”
“Had you reason to believe he would be in danger?” Niko asked, but Cobalt shook his head.
“No. But he was the prince, after all,” he admitted. “And to me he was a brother, I suppose. I was protective.” The unspoken follow-up hung between them. The guilt in Cobalt’s tone was clear. Niko rolled his jaw, trying to release tension that wouldn’t soften.
“You told me you had wanted to be a chef until your Landwalk,” Niko went on, thinking back over everything he’d learned and wondering what was real and what was a carefully worded omission. “But he chose you as his Guard.”
Cobalt nodded. “He only chose me after I finished my training,” he said. “I progressed quickly. Like I said, it turns out I have a particular talent for it. But had I decided to pursue a different career, he would have chosen another.” Cobalt looked down then, and Niko stared more directly at him. “His father had been pleased. He seemed to think our friendship made for a great advantage. Something about the sacred bond necessary to make a great King. He told me he foresaw a long and prosperous reign for Indy with me at his side.” The end of his sentence came out short, stilted. Again, Niko felt the urge, the need to reach out and touch Cobalt. It was magnetic and dangerous. He held back. He didn’t do this kind of shit.
“I’m sorry,” he said, though his own words were awkward too. It felt wrong. It felt stupid. He’d been with this man all day and only now was offering condolences? And then, Niko shrugged back into his more comfortable skin. That of detective and asshole. “Are you sure you can be objective and effective on this case if you’re mourning your best friend?”
Cobalt looked up, his gaze sharpened at the edge. Niko held his ground. And the force of the Selkie’s expression was a hurricane to withstand. But when it let up, Cobalt nodded shortly. “Selkies do not view death in the same manner as the other Courts, from what I understand.” He pressed his fingertips to the Soul Stone obscured beneath the shoulder holster. “For us death is merely a transition, from one life to the next. That is why it is so crucial I retrieve Indy’s Soul Stone. It must be returned to the Reef. So his spirit might return again. And in that way, never die.”
Niko had no idea what to answer to that. He had no idea if what Cobalt said was a reality of the magic of their Court, or if it was a religious zealot’s wishful thinking. There were various systems of belief in Nimueh’s Court, and most Werewolves ascribed to the ancient legends about the Endless Night and the Eternal Hunt… but there was little of that in Maeve’s Court. Most Fae took life as it was, knowing that whatever came after was unlikely to be known in the now. There were traditions and rituals performed by the royals and their ilk, journeys into the Other Side, communion with ghosts or the spirits of those who came before. Supposedly. Niko had always thought it was largely nonsense, a performance to legitimize class distinctions. But then he wouldn’t know for certain, would he? He wasn’t one of the upper class, the Courtiers, or a royal. He was just Niko Spruce, poor kid from the wrong side of the Court who fought his way up to Detective by doing the things no one else was willing to do.
So maybe Cobalt’s belief in the Reef was reality. Or maybe it was more of the same upper-class bullshit funneled down to the poorer citizens so they would buy in to the lie that, in death, everyone is equal. That they, too, might have a chance at being royalty.
There was bitterness in Niko’s mind and bile at the back of his throat as he thought of these things, of how when his father died people who’d never paid more than a moment’s mind to him told him his father was watching him now, protecting him from Beyond. Forget that his father hadn’t spent a minute watching or protecting him while he was alive. But no matter all that, he couldn’t make himself believe Cobalt was one of those blind believers. He couldn’t see the haughtiness of the upper class in Cobalt’s silver eyes. And though he knew little to nothing about the Selkie Court, he found it difficult to imagine Cobalt wanting to devote his life to cooking for the community if he didn’t genuinely care about that community.
“Right,” Niko said, realizing he hadn’t answered immediately. Cobalt was studying him now, his expression caught between defensive and fascinated. It unsettled Niko to be pinned by his gaze. “Well, why didn’t Indigo just message you from the beginning, then? Why wait so long?”
Cobalt turned to look around the room again. There was nothing new revealing itself, but he seemed at a loss. Like he needed that very same question answered himself.
“I wish he had,” he said, shaking his head. “My best guess is that Indy was fervently independent. He wanted to prove himself as prince. He wanted to prove he was fit to lead. That he could care for his people and do what was necessary in times of adversity.”
Niko frowned, irrationally angry. “What was necessary was contacting someone for help,” Niko snapped, unsure why it was bothering him. “You call for backup when you’re in over your head, no matter how good you are. Pride gets you killed.”
Cobalt shot him a look, and Niko flinched internally, though he showed nothing. He was losing his mind, reacting like this in front of the victim’s best friend. Someone close to him. Like he was saying Indigo somehow brought it on himself. Knowing he’d crossed a line, he steeled himself for some kind of attack. An explosion of emotion, a slap in the face, something. Cobalt loved Indigo, didn’t he? He loved him deeply, and Niko had just basically called him stupid and prideful.
But the attack didn’t come. At least not as he expected it.
Cobalt’s expression merely turned somewhat sad, troubled. Like breaking waters against a cliff. He studied Niko’s exposed torso, the scars that littered it, and his eyes lingered on the mark that could only be a bullet wound.
“Did you?” he whispered, and Niko felt the question slice through his skin like a propeller through water. He tightened his jaw, fighting to keep his expression stony, but his fingers curled into his palms slowly. Cobalt didn’t wait for him to answer though. “Indy was proud, certainly. He had a lot to learn.” He dropped his head slightly. “And now he’ll never have the chance.”
This wasn’t getting them anywhere, Niko realized. He’d learned some of what he had been after, but the longer they lingered in Indigo’s empty apartment, the more he struggled to maintain control of his emotions. He hadn’t experienced this level of chaos inside himself since the first night in his apartment after his undercover assignment. And then he’d been alone, free from judgment or attention. No one to watch him fall
apart and try to put himself back together.
“Well, he did a lot of work, anyway,” Niko said, turning back to the wall. “There has to be at least one lead in this somewhere. It seems like he took detailed notes.” Niko studied more of the lists on the wall, but the details surrounding the map and plotted locations seemed the most relevant to him. Why these locations? What did they have in common? Why was Indigo so certain they were related to what happened to his friends? Niko snapped another photo, trying to get more detail, then tapped in the number of the precinct dispatcher. “Detective Spruce, badge number 6456. Yeah, request for a forensic team at the Coastal Apartment Complex, building three, apartment 705. This is for the Sickle Beach case. Yeah. Let the Captain know. He’ll deal with the red tape. We need them before sunrise. Police presence at the location could alert persons of interest. Just make sure they’re in one of the unmarked vans. Thanks.”
Once Niko was off the phone, he looked up to find Cobalt watching him. “Forensics?” he asked. “It seemed to me pretty clear this isn’t a crime scene.”
Niko shook his head. “Indigo wasn’t killed here, no. But this is definitely related to the crime. You and I can’t filter through all of this information alone. The forensics team will help expedite it. And they might find something we missed; they’ll search this place carefully.” He added the last, noting the slight tension around Cobalt’s eyes. But it didn’t ease away at his comment.
“I’d like to search a bit more myself, then, while we wait for them,” Cobalt said. There was no question there, but he waited for Niko’s response before moving. Niko nodded carefully, wondering what it was Cobalt thought he would find that he didn’t want the forensics team to see.
He turned almost immediately, making his way to the kitchen, pulling open drawers one by one, then cupboards, then moving on methodically. Niko’s eyes followed him for a few moments before he realized he could be using the time to do searching of his own. Niko moved to the bed, pulling back the sheets and the pillows, searching beneath the mattress and all the usual places people liked to hide things. He did it more on autopilot than anything, allowing his muscles to go through the motions while his mind was elsewhere. He’d been served a heaping pile of information tonight, and his brain was only just catching up.
As if finally processing old information, his brain made a connection he hadn’t before. “Did you know all the other Selkies on the trip?” he asked Cobalt.
Cobalt didn’t pause in his searching. “Yes, of course,” he said. “I was acquainted with anyone Indigo spent time with.”
Niko paused, holding one of Indigo’s bed pillows in his hands. “No, I mean… you were his Royal Guard. Did that involve vetting new people in his life?”
This time, Cobalt did pause. He looked up, a pile of random mail flyers in his hands. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “It wasn’t necessarily required for most of them. Many of them were the children of wealthy courtiers, friends of the King, old families of the various Reefs. Indigo had known them since his youth, but once I became a Royal Guard, I still looked into their histories.” A somewhat rueful look came over him, and Niko wondered where it came from. More and more he was sucked in to studying Cobalt. “I’d known some of them at a distance, when I was younger, and I shall only say I did not have the same pleasant memories of them that Indy had.”
Niko straightened, tossing the pillow aside. “What did they do?”
Cobalt set the flyers down, his gaze avoiding Niko’s. “A few of them seemed to take issue with Indy’s friendship with me. Our closeness.” He shifted, flipping through the papers on the counter with deliberate care. “They seemed to think that as members of the old families, they should have the primary confidences of the prince. Not me.”
“And you’re not part of the old families?” Niko asked, nudging him along. He seemed more open to revealing details of himself than he had previously, and Niko was intent on getting all he could out of it.
“No, definitely not,” Cobalt said, as though the idea was ludicrous. Something in Niko settled at that information. He tried to pretend he had no investment in Cobalt’s background, but the lies he told himself were starting to falter. “I was just a poor Selkie of the Northern Reefs, brought in to the Central School on a lottery program. This, too, upset them.”
Niko almost regretted asking, not wanting to bear ill will toward possible victims. They were each missing persons. They were each people who deserved to be found. But something somewhat feral in Niko hissed at the thought of these spoiled rich kids, talking down to Cobalt because he wasn’t born into a gilded crib.
“So they bullied you? Did Indigo know?” Niko asked. Cobalt considered.
“I had thought not. I was sure never to tell him myself. It wasn’t his fault, nor was it his responsibility. And at the time I was determined to rely on no one but myself. I loved Indigo, but I would not hide behind him when faced with bullies.” He paused, a heavy sigh escaping him. “But I suppose I didn’t hide it well. I took their barbs and taunts without ever retaliating, and then one day, they simply stopped. I never heard another negative word from them again.” He smiled sadly, and Niko’s chest tightened. “I thought they’d just gotten bored, but Indy spent even more time with me after that. Maybe he did have something to do with it.”
The tightness in his chest did not dissipate, as though a vise clamped down on him. Niko blotted away memories of his own childhood, of his time in school and having to fight with bloodied knuckles and bruised face just to claw back his own lunch. No one was there to stop those brutes, nor the ones who’d pinned his arms back to force him into deal after deal. They were stupid, childish exchanges. But they were forced on him, always taking and leaving him with nothing.
“So what did you find when you looked into their histories?” Niko asked, voice level and even though he did not feel it.
“Nothing, really,” Cobalt admitted. “Most of what they did to me turned out to be childish idiocy. Despite my memories of them, they all seemed to turn out to be reasonable young adults.” Cobalt shook his head. “There was some typical partying, bending the rules between Reefs here and there, but no matter how I looked, I couldn’t find anything worth mentioning.” Cobalt leaned back against the counter, his arms folded over his chest. His eyes found the bed in the corner, but Niko was sure he was seeing something else. “I can’t imagine Indy staying friends with anyone who was genuinely terrible, anyway.”
Niko thought it over, but without more information, he couldn’t connect one thing to another. His mind was a mess of disparate dots too chaotic to make a picture. He sank down onto Indigo’s old couch, his exhaustion suddenly hitting him. He needed sleep, if only for a couple hours. Cobalt came over and joined him, his closeness suddenly too much, the heat of his body overwhelming to Niko’s tired mind. He wanted to sink into it. He wanted to lean into Cobalt, to touch him and be touched. But his head was full of images of Indigo and Cobalt as kids, of their relationship and love for one another, and Niko pulled away, unsure if what he was feeling was jealousy or envy or something else entirely. And none of it made any sense.
Pulling out his phone, Niko called down to the landlord, plugging in the number on the business card he’d taken earlier. He waited interminably long for the man to wake up again and answer his phone. The reply on the other end, when he did answer, was not terribly friendly.
“This is Detective Spruce,” he said. “I’m going to need any files or documentation you kept regarding Indigo’s friends and their apartments. Everyone who moved in at the same time he did. Yes. All of it. I don’t care if it’s not all strictly legal or organized. I just need dates and numbers. Oh, and a team of forensic technicians is on their way. Yes, now. May I remind you that failure to comply may amount to obstruction of a police investigation? Right, thanks.”
Niko hung up, rolling his eyes at the screen. Cobalt was leaning back against the sofa, his bare chest and stomach on full display. Niko tried not to let his eyes rove too lon
g over the ridges and dips of Cobalt’s stomach, down to the waist of his pants, dipping lower in his position.
“What are you thinking?” Cobalt asked, and the soft words almost seemed to have a different meaning and intention. But Niko was tired.
“Is there any way to track the number of Selkies on Landwalks, where they chose to go, and whether or not they’ve come back?” Niko asked abruptly.
Cobalt sat up, breaking Niko’s line of sight with his stomach but placing his face in more direct view. Niko was nearly surprised by the brightness in Cobalt’s silver eyes.
“Possibly,” he said. “The Landwalking tradition is ritualized, in a way. Each Reef has a small ceremony for the local Selkies who are meant to go during a given year. The community centre of each Reef would have some basic information regarding which Selkies went a certain year, which Court they travelled to, and when or if they returned. Why?”
Niko nodded. “We’re going to need that information, as soon as possible,” he said. “How fast can you get it?”
Cobalt picked up the pad of strange paper from Indy’s side table and began to scrawl out a note on it. “I can have it by the end of the day tomorrow, I’m sure. But we’re going to need to stop by a beach.” Niko didn’t ask. He wasn’t sure he could process the information at that moment, anyway, he was so tired. “Why? What’s going on in your head?”
Too many things, Niko was sure. “I don’t have any evidence to support this,” he said, covering his bases. “It could be completely unfounded. I could be very wrong.”
“But what?” Cobalt asked, leaning in closer, searching to catch Niko’s gaze. But Niko couldn’t look directly at him. Not if he wanted to maintain the minimal clarity in his mind he could still manage.
“It just seems strange so many Selkies went missing, all on the same trip,” Niko said. “And that so many of them had wealth and power waiting for them at home.” He shook his head. “And with someone like Indigo watching their backs… And then the connection to the Woods. How does a so-called sex trafficking operation just happen into kidnapping or recruiting undocumented Selkies? That kind of luck is hard to come by, particularly in Maeve’s Court.” He shook his head. “If Indigo hadn’t gotten so deeply involved… if he hadn’t tried to break his friends free, he might never have been murdered. And if we hadn’t found him on the beach, we would never have known anything was going on.” Another detail snagged in Niko’s mind, but he set it aside for the moment.