CHAPTER 28
DETECTIVE ELLE
I STARED at the mountainous stronghold in the distance. It was nothing but jagged shelves of loose gray shale with thickly striated rust-colored bands punching through the sky like serrated and broken teeth. Large canyons wound around it like a serpent’s tail. There were massive bat-winged creatures the darkest shade of ebony flying in formation around the mountain’s highest peak. The sun was setting, and the sky was a blaze of deep orange, rich indigo, and pale blue. Sniffing the air, I scented the iron-rich tang of blood and the rotten sweetness of viscera. There had been death there, but being that it was faery land, Grimm PD wouldn’t have been notified. The fae had their own brand of justice, and it was a sight bloodier than ours. That was certain.
Where most of Neverland was little more than forested jungle with canopies and ropey drawbridges that formed massive citadels in the skies, this section was an emerald-green sea of rolling grass and flowers in every shade and bloom imaginable, with massive trees as ancient as Neverland itself standing sentinel. Insects with their chitinous armor gleaming like polished rubies flew by in a blurred rush, all of them unerringly heading in the direction of the massive fae stronghold.
I shivered and gently grazed my palm against the comforting hilt of my weapon strapped to my outer thigh. No matter how big, strong, or terrifying, all fae had one rather significant weakness.
I’d already loaded my Glock with iron bullets. Clenching down on my back teeth, I studied the landscape, looking for any signs of intelligent life, guards or even a regular passerby. Anyone would do at that point, so long as they were of fae heritage and could grant me temporary asylum to pass through.
Coming unescorted into fae lands during the day was less than fun, but at night, it could potentially be a lethal endeavor. Faeries, no matter how cute and innocent they looked, were predators first and foremost.
It might be Neverland, but make no mistake that this section, at least, was ruled by Titiana, and she’d done me no favors by asking me to drop by without offer of a guard.
I felt the strength of fae magick in every breath I took. The saturation of potent earth energy seeped up like a wet blanket from the ground itself, making me feel as though I were breathing through a thick fog bank.
My skin tingled as I continued to gaze at the endless expanse of land and sky. The night was far too quiet, too still. Something was wrong. I could taste it on my tongue, feel the urgency of it ride through my bones.
Again, I sniffed the air, and this time, I caught wind of another scent—moss and dank, rich earth and even more subtly, petrichor and iron, a smell that only resulted from a mixture of water and earth and blood.
Kneeling, I reached out to caress the blades of grass beside me—as dry as a bone. I tapped my finger upon the soil, which was as dry as the sands Ichabod had stored at his home. There’d been no rain here for days, maybe even weeks. The grass was a fae hybrid, making it hardier than normal fescue should be. By rights, I should be looking at brown and withered fields. But even so, fae lawns could die. They weren’t indestructible. I kept running my hands across the blades until I paused, feeling something slightly damp brush against my palm. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I very lightly ran my hand back the opposite way, and this time, I definitely felt something warm and tacky.
The sun was barely lighting up the night, but even so, when I turned my palm over, I saw the distinctive rusted hue of blood, just a tiny smear of it but indisputable. It was thick and viscous, clinging to my flesh like freshly tapped syrup.
I brought my hand to my nose. It was sweet and extremely iron rich. I was pretty certain I knew what it was, but as Maddox had once taught me, apart from M.I.C.E. with their fancy tests and equipment, there was only one other surefire way to know for certain. I stuck out the tip of my tongue and took a quick lick.
The effect of it was immediate on me. My marking flared like a flame, burning as bright as a fiery torch. The winds began to rustle, and my hair undulated around my face like the sensuous curling of a Medusa’s hair. The faery gown I wore turned smoky, fitting me more like dense shadow that glittered with pinpricks of great fae magick.
I looked as surreal as the creature I was hunting.
It had been blood I’d tasted, but it had also been more. Standing slowly, I once more looked at the tree line but with different eyes, scanning for that telltale sign of alienness.
What I was looking for had once been nearly hunted to extinction by fae hunters, hunters who’d sell the blood of that creature on the black market for a very pricy sum. Those hunters had eventually been terminated by Queen Morgana the Olde, Titiana’s predecessor. She had her reasons, I was sure, though I rather thought they had less to do with altruism and far more to do with the fact that they’d infringed on her own stock too.
Then I saw it. It was so easily overlooked, if one didn’t know what one was looking at.
It was a tree, just like all the others, but its branches were unique. They were long and spiraling and interwoven, creating a nest of ropes that wasn’t actually rope at all, but hair. Its bark was thickly corrugated and its leaves bright and green, though its shape was what made it unique. The leaves formed a kind of halo around not the top of the tree but along its middle, creating a type of robed effect the way it fell gracefully down its back.
The tree itself wasn’t that large or even that tall. It was an average tree, maybe fifteen or so feet. Rather slender, in truth.
I wet my lips then stood as still as a rodent watching incoming prey, waiting for that final telltale hint that I was right about just what type of tree it actually was.
I didn’t have to wait long. I didn’t know if it had sensed me and had stopped moving and my stillness had tricked it into believing it was alone again, but suddenly, the creature was groaning, the sound a distinctive grinding of wood upon wood. There was a great rending sound, then it lifted its roots, which were actually its feet, out of the ground.
The tree inhaled and shivered then gave a long and whistling exhalation. Its rightmost branch reached out for the tree beside it, and it seemed to lean its weight upon it.
The creature had a faery name, one that was impossible for any humanoid mouth not of faery to replicate. Most Grimmers had taken to calling it by its more mundane name, tree spirit.
But that wasn’t an entirely accurate representation for it, either. The tree was actually inhabited by the body of a woodland guardian. It was two in one, a symbiotic alliance wherein one could not exist without the other.
Shaping my lips, I sucked in a long breath then whistled as only a siren could.
The shriek pierced the heavens, and the tree spirit suddenly twirled. Its face contorted, with long fangs dripping with venomous resin. It lifted its arms, bark-like claws extended.
And from the front, I could see that its side had been pierced through. Sappy blood trailed in thick rivulets down its side. The creature, then, was the reason for the blood trail.
It was not a mortal wound, but the guardian wouldn’t heal quickly from it, either. That Titiana had even placed a guardian here was significant. It meant that whatever she’d hidden inside the stronghold was important enough to be guarded by something very nearly indestructible by anything other than a fae hunter. But first, I had to temper the beast.
“Spirit of the woods, I was sent by the one you would call queen. My name is Arielle, siren of the deep and King Triton’s daughter. I seek safe passage through your lands. Might I come in?”
The guardian’s eyes were little more than opened slits in its bark face. Like melted wax, its face was a thing of nightmares to a child or the less well informed of the hundred realms.
While they were deadly fighters, the truth was guardians always preferred an amicable resolution. They were watchers more than anything, responsible for relaying to the queen’s armies when and if intervention would be needed. So how had this guardian failed in its duties so badly?
There was a quick rush of winds
, and upon them, I heard words.
How is it that you come now? Are you them? Are you one of them? Its long, tentacle-like branch wrapped around its wound.
I pressed my lips tight. “Who is ‘them’? What has been done here?”
I do not trust that I can speak with you. Again I ask, who are you that you should come now? The queen has told me of no visitor.
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised that Titiana had failed to mention my future presence here. I shook my head. “I am as I said, but I am also a detective of Grimm. Titiana spoke with me a few days past, alerting me to some strange activity in this area and that she would like me to check things out for her. That is why I’ve come.”
The winds rustled through the trees, the sound more aggressive, as though the guardian were angry.
Would that you’d come then, Detective, for I fear that my queen will be given the gravest of news this night.
I blinked, going cold all over, gaze returning to the summit and the thick formation of faery bats growing thicker and thicker in number so that they resembled a moving black pillar. Their angry chirps made me feel anxious and sick to my stomach.
“What has happened here, guardian?”
It shook its head. They are dead. They are all dead.
“Who?”
The protectors of the mountain. They came in a wave of black feathers, eyes as red as hell flame, slashing and tearing at us all. I was outside when the massacre took place. It is the only reason why I still stand. Once I was alerted, I tried to enter, but it was too late. I was too late, then I was set upon by a murder of them. They struck at me with their venomous claws, immobilizing me instantly. The enchantment has only just worn off, and now I must tell my queen this most terrible news.
“Let me pass, guardian,” I tried again. “Give me leave to enter. I must study the scene. I must look for clu— ”
It is forbidden!
The guardian’s thoughts rolled through the winds like a violent crack of thunder, making me flinch.
The taste of its power on my tongue let me know I was no match for the creature. As powerful as I was, wood could not be enchanted by the sound of my voice. And the strength in its body was ten times that of mine.
“Titiana bade me— ”
She said no such to me. You may not pass.
Sighing, I closed my eyes. The fae were incredibly deceitful, but their deceit came more in trickery. Which meant the Slashers had come here.
And if I had come two days earlier, I might have actually learned why. Frustrated with myself, the faery, and even Titiana for being such a heinous bitch, I shook my head. “How long ago did this attack take place?” I asked, opening my eyes and staring the creature.
It was breathing heavily and swaying on its feet. It had taken a far stronger blow than I’d at first suspected. It was a wonder that it was even standing upright.
Barely two hours.
I frowned, instantly realizing that would have been around the same time as Whiskers’s attack on the Lost Boys. He’d mentioned to me about coming out of his mountain dwelling and spying the blood and following it.
“Does a dragon make its lair here or close by?”
Aye. An ancient golden one with green bands. It glides the skies.
My heart squeezed, and I wet my lips. That had to be Whiskers. There weren’t many dragons in Neverland and none, so far as I knew, as far west as he.
“What did the Slashers want? What did they say? Did you see or hear anything suspicious?”
I saw nothing and heard little, only the screams of my dying brethren. Only that. It shuddered.
I nodded, frustration pinching my eyebrows. “Why were they here? Why would they dare attack a faery stronghold such as this?”
It shook its head. I must away now. The queen must know of these bleak tidings.
“Of course, guardian,” I said and gestured with my arm that it should press onward toward its destination.
It dipped its head as though it meant to turn, but I held up my hand. “Just one last question, guardian, and then you will never see me again.”
It stood perfectly still, looking just like the tree it mostly was, and waited.
“This stronghold, it guards some of the holiest and most powerful of all fae relics, does it not?”
The guardian didn’t answer but did dip its head.
I nodded. “How long were the birds within?”
It was quick. Minutes, at most.
“More than enough time to hie off with a relic, is it not?”
Its face remained impassive, but behind its mask of bark, its eyes glowed like flame.
“Did they take something, guardian?”
I did see one fly away with something. But I can’t be sure what it was. I was not the archivist, merely a watcher. But it winked like crystal in the sunlight as it flew.
Then it tipped its head one final time before slowly turning. Its ropey fingers began to wind and undulate, and as it did, a fragment of its bark broke off, dropping to the grass below.
Its fingers formed a mesmerizing sequence in the air, and suddenly, a tunnel was opened, one of flashing starlight and glimmering stardust. It slowly moved with the gentle cadence of its kind and stepped inside. Then it and the tunnel were gone.
Wrapping my arms around my body, I looked back at the haunting stronghold. This case would not be mine or anyone else’s in Grimm P.D.. But my gut told me that the timing of the heist was no coincidence, none at all.
I would need to speak with Titiana again, but I couldn’t speak to her yet. She would need time. A day or two should be enough. Then I would ask her what had been taken. She should know by then.
I turned, ready to head back to Grimm, when I suddenly thought of that fragment the guardian had dropped. Trees only shed when injured. And I wasn’t even sure why I should suddenly think of going and grabbing that sliver of wood. It was just bark, nothing special. Yet…
I glanced around me. The guardian had claimed to be the last fae left standing on this land. Which meant if I crossed the demarcation line, there was a good chance I’d not get eaten for it.
And I really didn’t understand why I was so hung up on retrieving that bit of bark. But before I overthought things, I was moving, sneaking past the line, heart racing a mile a minute, as I was increasingly aware of what I’d just done.
I was on fae soil. At night. With no guard.
“Feck’s sake,” I muttered and jogged faster and found the indent where the guardian had been standing just seconds earlier. Miraculously, the sliver of bark rested right on top. There was nothing about it that really stood out.
And I thought myself every type of fool, but even so. Biting my lower lip, I quickly encased the small sliver of wood into a droplet of water. I had nothing else on hand with which to keep it safe. But the water wouldn’t erase anything in the bark. It was acting more like amber, encasing and trapping whatever might be in it.
I whipped my key card out of my back pocket and swiped it through the air, and my own transdimensional tunnel opened up for me. The sun was barely a tint of pink upon the horizon, and mushrooms with iridescent blue and green glowing caps began to bloom like a carpet all around me.
Death was in this place, and soon, so would the queen of the winged faeries be. It was time to leave. I had to get back to Grimm, but first, I would make one last stop at Ichabod’s.
He opened the door on the second knock, still undressed, his eyes bright and alive, as they tended to be when he was close to cracking an uncrackable riddle. The night was thick, the darkness around us cloying.
“Here.” I handed him the droplet of water, and when he took it, the way the candlelight hit the drop, I could almost swear I saw glimmers of blue and gold flash back at me. I frowned, wondering if maybe my stupid hunch might actually have been right. For once. “From the latest crime scene. I don’t know if this is anything, but I figured you were the man to hand it over to.”
He took the drop, his fingers grazing
mine for a split second. Bringing the drop up to his face, he squinted at it. “I’ll be damned, Elle,” he murmured, “but this does seem just the slightest bit… odd, doesn’t it? What is it? Is it… wood?”
I shrugged and shoved my hands into my pockets. “It was found in faery.”
His eyebrows lifted, and he gave me a knowing look.
I shrugged unrepentantly. “Maybe it’s nothing, but it feels like a wood spirit, and well, I just… I dunno. I grabbed it.”
He tipped his head in a nod. “Okay, Detective. Then I’ll look into it.”
I knew I’d been dismissed. His brilliant mind was already a million miles away. So I didn’t even bother to say goodbye. I simply turned, swiped, and left, hoping against hope that somehow, some way, I’d just discovered our miracle.
CHAPTER 29
DETECTIVE ELLE
I RETURNED TO THE HOSPITAL, wanting to speak with Maddox one last time before I finally got back to Grimm. It was a good thing Bo hadn’t bet me that I’d be back in two hours, because as usual, I’d have lost that one.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I thought about all I’d learned since I’d left him that afternoon. One, the sands at the crime scenes actually appeared to be significant. And two, just as one of the grisliest killing sprees in all the hundred realms for decades was being perpetuated, another crime—and perhaps of far more consequence than I could currently imagine—was simultaneously taking place. A heist—of what, that bit was still murky, but the crime itself was definitely fitting of the Slashers’ typical modus operandi.
I pushed open the door, expecting to find Hatter lain up in bed. But he was up and pacing the length of the room. He twirled the moment the creak of the door sounded and looked at me with a mixture of shock, relief, and even a smidge of trepidation.
“Bloody hells, Elle,” he growled and marched to me then grabbed me by the elbows and gave me a firm shake before yanking me to his chest. His twin hearts beat in rapid tandem against my breast.
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