by Jayne Hawke
“This is silly. All I want to know is what you know and how. I’m not going back to which I came or whatever it was, and it’s very clear you can’t make me. Answer my questions, then you can go away.”
She wouldn’t be going anywhere, of course. I had come too far in keeping this secret to have some strung-out crone calling up all her friends to gossip over it. Unfortunately, she clearly knew that. She continued to tug on this string and that, gathering up bits of sunlight, earth, and life from our surroundings. She didn’t have any plan that I could see, she was just putting together ingredients while she waited for me to make my move.
Once it was clear that she didn’t have any aces up her sleeve, I did. Pulling on a little of the life essence stored in my sword, I bumped my speed up a few notches and leapt the space between us, catching her in the chin with a knee and slamming the hilt of my sword into the top of her head when she threw it back. The two strikes were enough to send her sprawling back, and I landed on her with my foot on her sternum and my sword at her throat.
“Once more. What do you-“
I was cut off when she gave a shockingly powerful shove against my foot that launched me off her and backwards. I landed on my feet, but before I did she was back up and circling, the same hobbling gait as before, the same half-dazed drugged-out expression on her face. I hadn’t felt it, but that had to have been life magic, a lot of it to have stored up and used all at once for a witch that was grabbing at the plants moments earlier. That is, unless she was something other than what she seemed and hiding it exceptionally well.
I started probing at her life force, small tugs and pokes and prods that were no more than an irritation to her. Most of my attention I kept on my footwork and on keeping track of her and her intentions. With luck, she’d assume I was trying to attack her life and underestimate what I was actually capable of. At worst, there wasn’t much more she could do to keep herself secret than she already was.
The magic felt spongey, readily giving way under my touch but never parting or peaking. It was like wet paper, only where paper tore it just smooshed. I ran through my internal encyclopaedia, but there was nothing like that. She wasn’t a water hag, even though she moved like one, and I was increasingly sure she wasn’t a witch – at least not a regular witch.
Whatever she was, she wasn’t going to answer my questions, and that meant I had to end her before she could answer anyone else’s. Maybe I could get whatever was left of her on an examining table somewhere and play doctor, but first I had to get her into a whatever-was-left-of-her sort of state to begin with.
I drew on a little more life magic and leapt at her, swinging my sword down in an overhead chop meant more to gauge her reaction than to actually hit. She moved no more than a centimetre or two, letting the strike swing harmlessly by, and then cracked me across the back of the head with an open hand that nonetheless struck like a lead pipe. I felt the earth magic in the blow and made mental note of the fact that she actually was making use of the magic she’d gathered.
Going with the strike, I rolled forward and back onto my feet, turning around to find her circling again, still unfazed. My head hurt, but it was nothing I hadn’t felt before. There had been none of the strength she’d shown earlier. Either that was a one-off she no longer had the magic on her to repeat or she was holding back. Maybe she had a secret to keep, too, a trump card she didn’t get out unless she had to.
It seemed almost a shame to kill her, to kill someone or something so wholly unknown to me. Didn’t seem like a truce was going to happen, though. She’d shown no further sign of attack, but she was still gathering up magic in dribs and drabs. A few minutes earlier, I’d have been all but uninterested in what the ugly slattern had in store for a few sundrops and some fresh leaves, but now I was getting concerned.
Maybe there was a ritual to send me back to the darkness from which I came that called for the essence of broken pavement and weeds.
As that thought occurred to me, I advanced on her quickly, making quick thrusts she dodged with reassuring signs of effort. I continued to draw on the magic I had stored, determined to end this fight before it got any weirder or any more dangerous. I pushed my speed higher and higher, my blade flashing and glinting in the sun. She was good, but she wasn’t a goddess.
Slowly I began to catch up with her, to learn her moves. She liked to bob and weave around, to give the appearance of being off balance like a drunken kung fu fighter, to wear her opponent out. Before long, I could start to predict her, and I landed my first strike, a short inward jab from her right periphery.
It struck stone, the telltale clank of the blade telling me that the magic she’d been gathering was being put to use. Earth was good for a lot of things, and one of the most effective was in on-the-spot armouring. It wasn’t an easy spell, but it was the kind of thing I’d expect her to do if she was what she first appeared. I shrugged it off. If she was just another Narrows crone, she’d be dead as soon as she ran out of energy to keep dancing. If not, that spell wouldn’t change anything.
In a few more seconds, I made my second touch, a slash across her throat that sounded as if I was dragging the sword behind me like a sullen child after a lost baseball game. The spell was still holding firm, but that wasn’t that surprising. What was surprising was that she was doing next to nothing about any of it. I couldn’t follow her spellwork with as much focus as I was putting into my own speed and swordplay, but whatever it was sufficed for her entire offensive plan. I wasn’t scared, but I was warier and warier with every passing second. There was no such thing as unnecessary information in a fight between witches, and I was missing a great deal of it.
My third, fourth, and fifth touches came in quick succession, a trio of pretty jabs to the abdomen when she paused for a half second. The final strike got some purchase and drew out a grunt from her, and as she pushed backwards to avoid the full brunt of the blow I again I noted that her magic was no better than it should have been. She quickly regained her focus, but it was clear that whatever had drawn her attention was enough to change the dynamic. She threw a hard jab, her first strike of the bout, directly at my gut. I caught it on my sword’s guard with the intention to slash down across the length of her arm and bring the fight that much closer to its close, but the blow was far, far harder than it should have been, her fist completely stone-solid and the force behind it enough to snap my forearm back on itself.
My sword dropped from the useless hand as I grimaced at her in silent pain. I caught it with my left, but before I could manage to land a blow she was gone, the sound of her footsteps loud and heavy like a neophyte but her escape as good as any elf’s.
Sixteen
“What was that?” Elijah asked from behind me.
“Who knows? Her bloodstream was entirely drugs and fractured magic. I’m amazed she could talk at all.”
He snorted.
“Erik has nothing. There’s no word whatsoever about the stolen items. A couple of people have made mention of a new thief being in town, but he doesn’t have any details on them. They might as well be a wraith, or a shadow.”
I curled my lip and turned to walk away. Elijah wrapped his hand around my working wrist. I glared at him over my shoulder.
“Partners shouldn’t hide things from each other.”
“Is there something you’d like to share?” I asked.
He ground his teeth and released me. I wasn’t one of his pack. I didn’t owe him any information.
The Narrows were far quieter as we left. Those who might have hung around to see who we were and what we wanted had disappeared into the buildings. My fight with the witch had reminded people that I wasn’t some prissy little woman there to sell on a few mermaid pearls. I was just as dangerous as the wolf walking at my side.
On the way back, I pulled the magic from my sword and used it to heal myself up. I hadn’t quite finished when we got out, but the bumps and bruises were all taken care of and the arm was mostly back in fighting form. A
few quiet moments and I’d have it 100%. It was good to be a witch.
We’d barely stepped foot in Elijah’s office building when I got the news that someone had stolen a shifting moon bracelet. It allowed non-shifters to change into an animal form. They were rare and worth an obscene amount of money. I had to give it to the thief; they weren’t screwing around.
Elijah stopped halfway across the lobby and frowned at his phone. My own phone buzzed with Castor’s number. I answered it and he spoke without preamble.
“You’ve just been hired by a Mr. Cox. Apparently, he had his shifting moon bracelet stolen and he would like for you to retrieve it.”
I turned to Elijah and gave him a victorious grin.
“Thanks Castor. Text me the address and I’ll head right over.”
Elijah glowered at me.
“That was Castor. Mr. Cox has hired me to get his bracelet back.”
I made no attempt to keep the smugness out of my face.
When the address came through, it seemed Mr. Cox lived quite close to where we were.
“There’s a chance that this theft is related to those that we’re already investigating, so I’ll join you.”
My instincts screamed at me to push him away, to keep myself and my secrets safe. Yet, a small part of me enjoyed his company and the quips.
“Hurry up, then,” I said as I started towards the door.
“I’m driving.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Is this a sexist thing?”
He laughed.
“No, it’s a, ‘I have a better car,’ thing.”
“What exactly is wrong with my beautiful car?” I said as I stood and crossed my arms.
He towered over me. His eyes glinted in the pale sunlight. My mind went to filthy places.
“Your car corners like a boat in mud.”
Ok, so maybe my muscle car wasn’t the best around corners, but it did pick up amazingly and was incredibly comfortable. That and the deep rumbling growl made me smile no matter how bad a mood I was in.
“Your car sounds like someone abusing a Vespa.”
“My car is a work of art, with acceleration to leave yours in the dust. It also corners like it’s on rails.”
I glanced over at his car and tried to think of a suitable insult. The truth was, it really was a work of art. I just loved muscle cars, even if they were impractical boats.
“You’ll have to let me have a test drive, if it’s so wonderful.”
He laughed, a brilliant bright sound that I wanted to hear more of.
“Sure, I’ll hand the keys to my car over to the best thief I know.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
“What?”
“That I’m the best thief you know,” I said with a grin.
He shook his head and walked around me towards his car.
“Can you at least say it again so I can record it on my phone?”
“Not a chance.”
“Fine, but I’m still holding it over your head.”
He opened the passenger door for me.
“Whatever gets you through the day, princess.”
Seventeen
Mr. Cox’s home wasn’t quite as grand as Mrs. Briggs’ had been, but it was enough to remind people that he was far from poor. The small wiry man couldn’t keep his hands still. He was constantly fidgeting with the end of his tie and his cuff links. Elijah and I followed through his spacious house, complete with deep cream carpets that must have been a nightmare to keep clean and old-looking paintings on the wall. They were all of people with big ruffs and huge poofy sleeves on their shirts.
“This is where it was,” Mr. Cox said as he gestured at one of the spare bedrooms.
Elijah held up his hand to stop me from crossing the door frame. I went to remind him that Mr. Cox was my client, but he was frowning in concentration and breathing deep. He was checking for a scent, which might have been useful.
“It’s as we suspected. The same sea and salt scent,” Elijah rumbled.
That meant we’d have to continue working the case together. I wasn’t disappointed, although I felt like I should have been.
“My turn.”
I walked around the huge shifter and reached out with my witch senses to get some sense of how the thief had done it. They couldn’t be that good. Slowing my breathing, I allowed my mind to stretch out around the display cabinets, into the corners and crevices of the simple room. Mr. Cox had packed it full of treasures, each displayed in identical glass display cabinets standing on slender golden legs.
There were traces of Mr. Cox himself, thin slippery threads that spoke of some pixie heritage. To my frustration, there was nothing else. There should have been a hint of something else, a ripple, fractured magic, anything. I couldn’t find a damn thing. That was pissing me off. No one was supposed to be that good.
I needed to know how the thief was pulling it off. They must have been using an artifact or spell that carefully removed every trace of themselves from the situation. I’d heard of things that tried to do that, but they were clumsy. They caught some of the ambient magic and left clues behind. Whatever they were using was incredible, and I hated them for it.
Shaking my head at Elijah, I left the room and turned to Mr. Cox.
“We’ll return the bracelet to you as soon as we retrieve it.”
“As there are two of you, will the price double...?”
That was tempting.
“No. The fee remains the same,” Elijah said.
Mr. Cox relaxed some and pulled out a black and gold disk. I pulled out my own sky-blue disk. Personally, I preferred a digital bank transfer, but the fae method worked. Holding my disk out, I pressed my thumb down on the small circular sigil in the middle and peeled the magic away. Mr. Cox wrapped his own disk in his hand and glared at it. My disk turned icy cold, and I knew the transfer was complete.
The fae disks were the safer way to do business, but they were expensive, and I couldn’t help but suspect that the fae kept a very close eye on the transfers. I didn’t like anyone having any more information about me than was absolutely necessary.
The shifters had ordered another heap of food. I was transfixed as Jess stuffed another double cheeseburger in her mouth.
“So, what connects the stolen items so far?” Elijah asked.
“They’re worth a lot,” Liam said.
“What do we have? Unicorn blood, shadow stone, and one of those obnoxious shifting bracelets,” Rex said.
Shifters didn’t exactly approve of the jewellery that allowed non-shifters to change into an animal form. They felt it to be offensive, or an abomination. There had been a big push against it when the items first hit the market.
“The shadow stone doesn’t do anything. It’s just a way to show you have a lot of money,” I said.
“The unicorn blood is very potent, but realistically it’s the same as the shadow stone,” Jess said.
“And the bracelet lets people think that they’re more than they are,” Rex said.
I had been curious when the shifting items had first come out, to know what it would feel like to take on the form of an animal. Castor had said it was nothing like really shifting. The wildness and instincts of the animal were missing with the artifacts. Only real shifters had that. I lost interest then.
“Still no word of these things going up for sale,” Liam said.
“That just means they’re keeping it quiet,” Elijah said.
I stole the last of the brownies and smirked at Rex as he glared at me. He should have been quicker.
“We’re dealing with someone talented, with ties back to the ocean. Any clues yet, Liam?” I asked.
“Any signs of our land-going mermaid?” Jess added.
Liam laughed.
“Nothing yet. I do hope the mermaids haven’t found a way to stay on land, though, they’re bad enough in the sea.”
We had to be missing something.
“Are there any rituals that
need these items?” I asked.
“Well, unicorn blood can add power to just about anything. Do maybe a transformation ritual? Someone wants to be something they’re not?” Jess said.
“That doesn’t really narrow our list down,” I said.
“What about a rich human who wants to be supernatural?” Jess said.
“You could be onto something,” Elijah said.
There were plenty of humans in the world who wanted magic in their veins. Some just wanted to live longer, others wanted the power that came with magic.
“Looks like you have a long night ahead of you,” I said to Liam.
Eighteen
I’d run down to my favourite bakery and given Liam a large box of doughnuts and shortbread. He was working long hours; he deserved some good snacks while he was doing so.
“Keep that up and people will start to think you have a heart in there somewhere,” Elijah said with a smirk.
I clutched at my chest in horror.
“Gods forbid! My reputation as a hard-ass bitch would be lost forever. Everyone would be clamouring for their own doughnuts,” I said theatrically.
Elijah laughed. Rex smirked behind him. Could it be that Rex did have a sense of humour buried in there somewhere?
“Join us for a drink,” Elijah said.
“You forgot ‘please,’” I teased.
“Oh, please, Lily, won’t you do us the great honour of joining us for an alcoholic beverage?” Elijah said.
I bit my bottom lip, trying desperately not to laugh. He didn’t need any encouragement after all.
“I suppose I could manage one drink. I am driving, though, so just one.”
“Come on, I’ll show you to the best bar in the city.”
“I already know all the good places.”