8: A gripping dark fantasy mystery

by Georgina Bartlett

  Mother Nature was panting on the floor and wept as she looked at the death around her. Forrest bent down and placed a hand over the now black moss. Mother Nature went to stop him, but saw the moss start to get its green back. Forrest dug his hands into the earth and brought the rest of the foliage around them back to life.

  “I’ve never felt death and destruction so powerful in all my life.” Mother Nature hesitated with a weary glance at Mort as she stood. Forrest met her eyes, and she gave him a thankful nod. “It seems that we have all met someone new today.” She brushed her hair back and the red seeped away leaving brown in its place.

  “Well, we know you have no shame,” Mort jeered as she looked anywhere but at the stranger, her breasts now exposed.

  “Apologies. I forget how shy you Tincturians are.” She placed her hair back over chest.

  “Not all of us, darling,” Amour leered and winked at her.

  She smiled and held her hand out until the feline creature came to rest underneath it. She stroked the hard vines and the creature purred. “I have many names. Your human told you one of them. But I prefer to be called Buttercup,” Mother Nature told them all.

  “Wait, what?” Mort blurted, her voice shrill as she looked to Doc in shock. “You’re not Tincturian?”

  The siblings all looked to Doc, his cyan eyes full of shock and guilt. “We can discuss this later.” His voice cracked and his eyes turned cloudy.

  Mort opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, she was met with Forrest’s gaze. Her hands trembled as her eyes grew dark. Before she did something she couldn’t take back, she crossed her arms and walked towards her horse. The stead dropped its head as she drew close and comforted her with a small whinny.

  “I apologise if taking water from the tree was seen as an attack against you,” Forrest said to Buttercup.

  “Taking what is not yours is always an attack, but I was more upset by the trees that have been slaughtered a mile west,” she replied, and a single tear ran down her face. As it hit the ground, a flower bloomed in its place.

  “We have nothing to do with trees being cut down,” Forrest admitted quickly. “King Tinc must be behind it.”

  “That man,” Buttercup seethed, and her nostrils flared. “He killed hundreds of my children to build that monstrosity on their graves. He will pay one day, when he is brave enough to leave it. I have seen more like you, with coloured eyes doing the cutting.” She pointed to each of them.

  “They have nothing to do with that, and these three aren’t normal Tincturians. They are more powerful and hated by the King,” Doc defended.

  “That explains a lot.” Buttercup looked to Mort who was stroking her horse’s head. “Where are you headed?”

  “We are on our way to see Madame Arbre at the Atheneum tree,” Doc told her.

  “The Atheneum tree. She is my oldest child. Madame Arbre is one in a long line of guardians assigned to protect her.” She trailed off her sentence and surveyed the forest. “You must leave now. Go,” Buttercup whispered.

  “Well, we were on our way until we had to stop and were, you know, attacked by a hippy chick,” Amour started but was quickly silenced as Buttercup held a finger up to her lips.

  With a dash, she ran back into the tree as if there was an invisible door only she knew about. The siblings looked around, concerned about what she had seen. A few moments later, a slash broke through the silence as a large wooden spear hit a body in a tree a few yards away from them. Buttercup was crouched atop a high branch with another spear in her hand.

  “Who else knows about Madame Arbre?” Buttercup asked Doc, as if she knew he would understand.

  “Just Forrest and me,” he replied.

  “Then there is someone you cannot trust. You are being followed. You must leave now. More are on the way.” Buttercup disappeared into the tree again before more slashes flew through the air and more thuds fell to the ground.

  Mort was already atop her horse and held a hand out for Forrest and Doc to ride them back to his stead.

  “Doc, what is she talking about?” Mort asked as her horse caught speed.

  “Madame Arbre is a very powerful Oracle. If King Tinc knows he will try to kill her, she is too dangerous to have around,” Doc answered.

  “Why?”

  “Because she can see what King Tinc wants hidden.” He stole a look back to see a creature made of vines dragging away a man dressed in silver and purple.

  Six

  The coffee shop was crowded. It was a tiny nook in the wall in Edmonton Green, but was well known. A line of customers were waiting for a table to be free. After Justine paid for her drink, she jumped on a window seat that opened up, and asked if it could be brought over. She wasn’t one to stop and get a drink while on a case, but she was never in Edmonton, and this was her favourite coffee shop – Green on the Green – known for its matcha tea lattes and chocolate matcha croissants.

  It was an early Monday afternoon and Justine had spent most of the morning waiting for a response to her post on AnswerBean.com. It had taken two hours for someone to reply with a known address, in Edmonton, of the unmarked construction building Melody was seen entering on the flash drive. Three trains later she was here and ready for some answers, but after a morning of just coffee, a headache was also present.

  A small voice broke her train of thought, from a waitress she was familiar with but didn’t know the name of. “Matcha tea latte with a pump of vanilla and chocolate matcha croissant?” She was a petite Asian girl with a friendly face and warm eyes framed with thick straight black hair.

  “Yes, thank you,” Justine replied with a smile.

  She took a greedy sip of the latte and felt calm as the liquid warmed her up. Justine glanced at the queue of people still waiting to get in. As she followed the line, her gaze stopped on a man across the street who was slumped against a lamp post, a newspaper in his hands. Dressed in an all-black suit adorned with a blood red tie it was hard not to notice him, with a start, Justine almost knocked over her latte when she found his eyes transfixed on her over the top of his newspaper.

  “Miss, are you ok?” the young waitress asked, seeing Justine flinch.

  “Ye-yes,” she stuttered. “I’m fine thank you.” Justine smiled at the waitress and took a deep breath. Trying her best to act nonchalant, she stole a glance back to the lamp post, but the man was gone.

  ***

  The structure resembled an old parking lot that looked like a bomb had gone off and blown out all the windows. Graffiti tags covered the brick, and an old piece of blue and white police tape hung from a rusty hook like a flag. Justine wasn’t sure she could search each of the seven floors without help, and as she took one last look of a picture from the flash drive to confirm this was the right place, she wondered if she should enter alone.

  The stale air in the building was full of dust that floated around her like dead fireflies, debris crunched under her feet, and with every step Justine took, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. A long sheet of plastic billowed in the wind and shadows behind it resembled the figure of a body. With her taser gun in her hand she shook off the shake that had nothing to do with the cold, and slowly lifted the sheet. She let out a small sigh of relief when the shadow was revealed to be a stack of cement bags topped with a bucket, but at that very moment a crunch came from behind her.

  Justine spun on the spot, her finger ready on the trigger of the taser gun. Light flooded into the broken building through the windows and cracks in the bricks and revealed a small mouse that was chewing on a piece of broken concrete. Justine slowly lowered the taser and scratched her brow. She was thankful that no one was here to see her jump at a mouse. As she turned to pass under the plastic sheet that was hooked on her arm, she froze. A hooded figure stood ten feet away from her in a dark corner, a flashlight in its hand.

  “Hello?” Justine trembled. As she did so, the stranger lifted the flashlight to shine it in her face. “Lower your light,” she d
emanded. After a moment, the hooded figure listened and did so, before lifting it back up to place under their chin as if they were about to tell a ghost story.

  “I thought I told you to wait outside,” a female voice stated as the light lit up a familiar face with a funny expression.

  “You bitch,” Justine laughed. She dropped her head and grabbed her chest to recover from the scare. “You absolute bitch, Ron!” Justine screamed in between laughing and ran over to her friend.

  “You should have seen your face!” Ronny giggled, and bent over laughing so loudly that birds nesting in the building scrambled and flew away.

  Justine slapped her on the arm before they embraced in a hug.

  “Seriously though, I told you to wait for me J,” Ronnie said, the only person to ever call Justine, J.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Oh really? Is that why you’ve got your taser?” Ronnie taunted as she dropped her hood, her long red hair perfect for her light brown skin and freckles on her cheeks. “When you call a friend, who happens to be a detective, to help you search an abandoned building, you wait.”

  “It’s not like you’re armed. How would waiting make me any safer?” Justine observed, and holstered her taser.

  “Because a badge is a good way to make criminals rethink decisions and…” She paused as she grabbed a small metal baton from her pocket, with her palm turned outwards she flicked it and the rod grew. “Who said I’m not armed.” She grinned. “Now, what are we looking for?”

  “A girl presumed missing for ten years was seen leaving this building. We need to look for anything that points towards where she could be or why she was here.”

  “Wait, is this the Melody Davies case?” Ronnie asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

  “Yeah, her mum came to see me a few days ago with this picture.” Justine pulled out the picture of Melody at the bus station and handed it to Ronnie. “And a flash drive of her exiting this site. How do you know about the case?” she asked as Ronnie drank in the photo, her eyes haunted.

  “My dad was a uniform on the case when she went missing. I remember when they found her bag and clothes. It was the same night that –” she started, but stroked her arms and stopped. “It doesn’t matter. But he wouldn’t let me, or my sister, walk home for a year. I saw the case file when he was working one night. There was so much blood, too much for a person to still be alive. Why didn’t her mother talk to the police?” she asked, and handed back the photo.

  “She tried. No one would take her seriously. I guess from what you’ve just said, that’s why,” Justine grumbled. Ronnie nodded.

  “Let’s go,” Ronnie insisted and flicked the flashlight down the corridor.

  As they walked further into the rubble filled husk, all daylight seemed to disappear. Ronnie flashed her light around the room, and found a stairwell to the upper levels, but a pile of rubble barricaded it, making it impossible to enter.

  “If she was here, she was in this room, she couldn’t go up,” Ronnie commented, and pointed to the obstructed doors.

  “Well, that makes it a little easier at least,” Justine remarked as she grabbed her keys, a small flashlight attached to the rings.

  “Did you seriously not bring a light?” Ronnie asked, a tut in her tone.

  “I have a flashlight, right here.” She pointed to the little light.

  Ronnie shook her head and continued round the room.

  “I’ll go left, you take right, and we’ll meet in the middle by the closed stairwell,” Justine suggested. Ronnie nodded and started on her side.

  “So, seeing as I have you here, why haven’t you called me?” Ronnie asked as she flicked the flashlight around the rubble.

  “Well, why haven’t you called me?” Justine shot back as she bent to examine something on the floor that reflected in her light.

  She brushed off some rock and shook out a piece of foil that turned out to be a chocolate bar wrapper.

  “Honestly, I didn’t know what to say, and I was afraid of how we left things,” Ronnie complained with a shrug and kicked a big piece of rock, scaring a group of woodlice from under it.

  “What do you mean, left things? We talk all the time, Ron,” Justine scoffed.

  “No. We message each other every few weeks to make sure everything’s ok. That’s not talking.”

  “What do you want me to say?” Justine asked, as their flashlights came together, and they were face to face. “I called you, didn’t I?”

  “You left a voicemail on my phone and hoped I would show up. What would you have done if I didn’t?” she asked.

  “Hey, what is that?” Justine asked, her flashlight on a piece of white fabric trapped underneath a pipe.

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “I’m not. Look,” Justine assured and directed Ronnie’s flashlight to the pipe. Justine kicked away some rocks and grabbed a clear baggie from her pocket, slipping it over her hand she held onto the fabric, and lifted the pipe.

  “Looks like it’s from a lace top or a dress,” Ronnie observed as she held it up to her light.

  “Yeah, but it looks like there’s some kind of sand on it. White sand. Kind of sparkles,” Justine said and examined the rest of it. “I’ve got blood,” she stated and bagged it. Once sealed, she handed it to Ronnie and pointed to the blood stain. “Do you think you could run it against the blood you have on file from the backpack found at the crime scene?”

  “I can take it in and see what the techs can do,” Ronnie told her, and pocketed the rag. “We do need to talk, J. It’s been over a month.”

  “What is there to say? We were both drunk. Nothing really happened. It was just a kiss, and we both know it didn’t mean anything.” Justine looked away from her, her cheeks kissed crimson.

  “Huh, ok. Yeah, it didn’t mean anything.” Ronnie held her hand to her stomach like she’d been winded. “So, we’re good then?”

  “Of course we are. Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s creepy.” Justine laughed and nudged Ronnie on the arm as they turned to leave. “Shall we get some coffee next we-” Justine stopped as her flashlight hit the doorway back to the corridor they came through and a shape dodged the light. “Ronnie, someone else is here,” she whispered, and grabbed her taser.

  “I’m on it,” Ronnie said, and took off running.

  “Ron, Ron get back here!” Justine followed, her flashlight bouncing off the walls.

  “Stop, police!” Ronnie yelled as her torch bounced off a body covered in black, no sign of slowing. “Stop!”

  Justine and Ronnie ran as fast as possible through the obstacle course left on the floor by debris. The figure made it past the plastic sheet and Ronnie slowed down, signalling to Justine to be ready with the taser as she lifted the sheet. With a quick snag she had her baton ready, and Justine’s finger was on the trigger. But there was no one to apprehend.

  “What the hell was that?” Ronnie asked as they walked into the sunshine and surveyed the area.

  “I don’t know,” Justine admitted. A screw in the door frame had a few snags of red string on it. She grabbed it and held it between her fingers for Ronnie to look at. “But I saw a guy earlier, dressed in a black suit with a red tie. I think I was followed.”

  “This seems like it’s more than just a missing girls case, J,” Ronnie suggested as she bagged the fibres from Justine. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to look into this?”

  “No. But I’m not dropping it. I’ve gotta find Melody.”

  “If she’s even alive,” Ronnie retorted. Justine heard her, but as she holstered her taser, she knew that Melody was out there, and she knew that she was alive.

  Seven

  An arrow flew through the air and placed itself in a tree just inches from Doc’s head. The horses threw themselves forward, dodging low branches and jumping over giant roots that resembled tyres.

  “How do we know this wasn’t all set up!” Amour shouted, his pink blazer flowing in the wind.

  “What do you
mean?” Forrest asked. Doc’s hands were tight around his waist as the horse bolted through the trees.

  “I mean, how do we know that Madame Arbre even has anything to tell us? Maybe the king set this all up to get rid of us! Why else would Harchers be here?” Amour asked, his eyes ablaze.

  Harchers were only sent on the king’s demand, given their name due to their ability to hunt, and their brilliant aim with a bow and arrow.

  “I don’t know.” Forrest paused, his light green eyes standing out against his dark skin. “But if this is a set up and they are trying to get rid of us, they’re after Madame Arbre too.”

  Arrows flew around the three horses, leaving splinters in the ground, and the trees around them.

  “Why would they care about a wood dweller?” Amour asked.

  “Because she’s an oracle,” Doc shouted when Forrest stayed silent.

  “I’m sorry, what? She’s an oracle, and you didn’t think that was information that should be shared?” Amour yelled angrily.

  Forrest glanced at his sister, hurt present in her eyes. “This is exactly where we need to be. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, either of you, but she can tell us how we fix this and maybe even why the king wants us dead.”

  A new wave of arrows flew high in the air, snagging leaves as they made their descent. Amour threw a fast fireball, and only just managed to set an arrow alight as it shot through the air, turning to dust as it hit the marble hide of Forrest’s stallion.

  “Why are they only aiming for Forrest?” Mort asked.

  “Because I have Doc, and they know he’s the only one who can come to any harm from their arrows,” Forrest replied. “Doc, give me your hand.”

  Forrest put his hand behind his back as if asking for a low-five. Doc peeled his arm from around Forrest’s mid-section and took his hand, the next moment he was clinging to his bag as he was whipped off of the horse and landed in front of Forrest. “We need to get him out of the open.”