On the way to drop her off at home, we stop by Pearlhouse Pastries. She stares at the pastry case like there is some hiddenmystery inside. It seems this habit will never change, and I do not mind a bit.
“Go ahead and order your usual,” I observe.
“Am I really that easy to predict?” she scoffs playfully.
“No, I just know you so well, my mate,” I say, loving the sound of that word, as I snake an arm around her waist. I nuzzle behind her ear as she giggles and twitches against me until I stop.
“I think Iwillhave my usual. And not because you suggested it,” she says primly.
“Of course not,” I respond, sounding as if I would never think such a thing.
The young employee comes over to take our order. “One raspberry chamomile frangipane croissant and a latte, please. He’ll have a maple bun and a black coffee.”
The constabulary station seems more crowded than usual. There’s a buzz in the air, relief as well as a sense of justice that the fae will never be allowed to harm anyone else in this realm. Niven’s team is already there, waiting for us.
“Elgar, glad you’re joining us. I feel better with both of you here so we can get this done quickly and cleanly. But I have a few more questions for it before we send it on. I’m holding nothing back,” Niven states.
As usual, the witches lower the wards surrounding the containment unit and slowly open it to bring out the inky cloud that makes up the fae. Niven’s eyes lock into the fae’s unsettling yellow orbs for the last time.
“Why are the fae showing up in this realm?” he inquires forcefully, seemingly drawing an immense amount of power into the question, one that Darla the Seer had wanted answered.
“Your realm has so much wild magick that ours does not. In mine, the most powerful among us harness it for their own use, not sharing. Though if we prove ourselves worthy servants,some of us are rewarded and sent here to hoard yours since you Whispered Folk are too weak and stupid to use it all yourselves,” it answers, the voice dipping lower in pitch as it goes.
Niven’s lips thin in response. His entire body goes rigid, as if any movement would detract from his single-minded focus. “How do you travel into this realm?”
“We have our own ancient relics that allow us travel to this realm and others. You could not begin to fathom how we rule the realms. We are deities while you are insects under our feet,” it describes, its bassy tone full of disdain.
Elgar must not be able to help himself as he mutters, “You do not evenhavefeet.” I crack a smile, but I maintain my focus on funneling the fae’s magick away from it.
“Tell me about the Whispered Folk you have killed.” Niven pushes on.
“There are so many puny, defenseless Whispered Folk to torment. They should learn to be afraid of the shadows,” it says smugly. “Sometimes I sought them out. Sometimes I just stumbled upon them. A wolven out for a run. A troll alone in a cave. A vampire out on her own hunt. A shifter living in a towering city. A kraken resting too close to the Arctic shore. A satyr on a moonlit frolic in the woods. A witch who wandered too far from the fire on Beltane. There were others, so many others. Too many to remember over the centuries I spent here.”
Without looking away from the fae, Niven remarks to the room, “Take note of this. We’ll investigate them later.” He pries more information out of the fae about the victims, where he found them and when.
“The shifter could be that PI in Chicago,” observes one of his assistants.
“Agreed,” Niven replies. He then turns his full attention back to the fae. “Are you sure you didn’t kill Whitt and Estelle Mayweather?”
“I did not kill them, but it was well known among the fae. We keep track of your world to strike at its heart anytime we can,” it warns, the voice rising in pitch again, sounding young and feminine.
“I’m tired of this vile thing,” Niven spits. “Norrell, do the honors.”
“Gladly.” I drain its immense magick, the very essence of this creature, slow and drawn out, prolonging its decline as it absorbs into the clear quartz pieces in the bracelet Ada gifted me. Elgar stands by in case it attempts to lash out at us with a sudden burst of power. But I have kept it weak and nearly defenseless the entire time on purpose. It screeches and whines in a cacophony of disturbing voices until it finally fades from existence. It has no body, so there is nothing left, as if it never existed. Its demise is a sight Elgar and I have seen many times, but the witches seem to be shocked by it.
“Fire and ashes, you’d think a thing like that would go down in a blaze of glory. Not a tiny wink out of existence.” Niven laughs, sounding relieved.
“Only the blue hag of winter knows how much of a fight they put up in the Arctic. Those fae are preoccupied with seeking power,” Elgar says sardonically.
“I’m not surprised. This one was wily. It presented a real challenge to my magick,” Niven responds shaking his head.
The three of us walk out of the room as his assistants finish up in there. Feeling the need to get some fresh air, we step outside and stand in the sunlight as if it can burn the shadow of the fae from us for good.
“Working with you was good, Norrell. You too, Elgar, even though we only spent this short time together. Your skills are useful, but I don’t need to tell you that. If you’re not opposed to it, I’d like to hire you to join me on short assignments every so often. Nothing that would keep you away from your mate forlong. We deal with Malefic Folk from time to time, nothing near like what keeps your clan busy in the Arctic. Your abilities would make our investigative work so much easier. No need to answer me now. Just think about it and get back to me,” Niven offers, respect threaded through his voice.
“I might take you up on that,” I reply. It is something to consider to keep my skills sharp.
“I already updated the town officials, but I figured you’d want to know too. The warlocks are being sent to the High Court. It’s likely they’ll all get life in prison. As we saw, they had some parting gifts from the fae, some of which they used on us that day. That orb would have taken them out too if you hadn’t weakened it. They decided to attack that day when they discovered the power of the fae enchantments were waning. The fae knew what it was doing and wasn’t going to leave them with endless power. So they wanted to hit us with as much as possible. Ashes, they are pathetic. Entitled, codependent, missing too many brain cells. Interrogating them was almost as sad as it was infuriating,” Niven recounts.
