A Mysterious Murder in Faerywood Falls Page 2

  I set it down on the table.

  “It’s unusual, that’s for sure. And silver is usually used in magical things. So is this hunter Gifted? And if they are, then why did they attack Scar-Face?” I asked.

  They must not be from around here, Athena said. I can’t believe that any of the Faerywood Falls residents would have taken a shot at him like that.

  I frowned. “I was really hoping we could have some peace for once, after everything that’s happened…” I said. “Why does this always happen? We solve one thing, and then another pops up almost immediately. What was it this time, five days? Maybe a week?”

  I know, Athena said. I’m sorry.

  “Yeah…” I said, sinking back in the chair, staring at the arrowhead. “Me, too.”

  Athena sat down on her hind legs, wrapping her tail around her paws. The colder it became, the fluffier she was starting to look. So…any word from Bliss? She asked hesitantly.

  I sighed again, shaking my head. “No. Not directly, at least. Aunt Candace says that she’s reached wherever it was she was going. Though from the way she worded it, I think it’s somewhere out of state.”

  It was awfully brave of her to step up to protect the grimoire like she has, Athena said. As hard as it was for her to leave.

  My heart ached as I thought back over the last few days. So much had changed, and I was still having a hard time wrapping my mind around it all.

  “I still can’t believe that she felt that strongly about it all,” I said. “I mean, it wasn’t her responsibility to try and hide the thing. That should have been up to the council of eleven.”

  Yes, but you know how they fought over it, Athena said. Lucan said it was almost impossible to get them to come to an agreement…which is why Bliss stepped up in the first place.

  I had been there when she’d stepped in. I heard the way she told the council that she would take the book away from Faerywood Falls. I heard how she felt responsible for its misuse by the other spell weavers. She was determined. And then she claimed to know a place where she could take it. A place that only she and Zara knew about. She insisted that it would be safe.

  “But why did she have to take it?” I asked Athena. “Couldn’t Zara have done it instead?”

  You know as well as I do that Bliss never would have stood for that, Athena said, her eyes wise beyond their years.

  “I know…” I said reluctantly.

  Bliss had turned to me in the council hall that day, her eyes fiery with determination. “I won’t see any more harm come to you or anyone else,” she’d said to me. “That book is dangerous, and I will make sure that it won’t fall into the wrong hands ever again. Even if that means I have to watch it every second of the rest of my life.”

  Naturally that lead to panicked questions from both her mother and I. The rest of her life? Why would she say that?

  “No, I won’t argue with you guys about this,” she said to us over dinner that night. “In case you both haven’t realized, things in Faerywood Falls are changing. And I’m not so sure it’s for the better. It is best if we take a powerful item like this out of play, and if I can protect you, Marianne, from the spells inside it that someone could use against you, well…then I’m doing my part, aren’t I?”

  “But – ” I protested.

  “No buts,” Bliss said. “This is my choice. Consider it my way of showing you how much I care.”

  I shook my head, clearing the memory from my thoughts.

  “I just wish that she would have thought about it a little longer,” I said. “It seems too rash of a decision.”

  You can’t control her choices, Marianne. No matter how much you don’t like them.

  I let out a hollow snort of derision.

  The important thing is that the book is safe now, Athena said.

  “Yeah…even if that means I won’t see Bliss for a long time,” I said. “If ever.”

  Don’t be so disheartened, Athena said. We have no idea what the future holds. There may be no need for her to stay away. Maybe she’ll find a way to protect the book and then come back. I have no doubt that she was likely pursued, and had to find a way to get away. We should be grateful that she’s safe.

  “You’re right…” I said. “Of course I’m happy about that.”

  I chewed on the inside of my lip.

  “Bliss wasn’t wrong, though…everything has changed in Faerywood Falls now. The tension is rising, and I realize that I might be at the center of it all,” I said.

  I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was too late for such depressing thoughts.

  Getting up from the table, I picked up the arrow and walked it over to the drawer of towels and pot holders. I stashed it inside a torn oven mitt, and dragged myself off to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

  Are you alright? Athena asked, following after me.

  I turned on the faucet and ran my brush beneath the bitingly cold water that streamed out. “Yeah…I think so,” I said.

  You know that I’m still here for you…right? Athena asked.

  I glanced down at her. It wasn’t like her to have such a pleading tone in her words.

  I knelt down and laid my hand on my head, scratching gently behind her ears.

  “Of course I do…” I said. “And I’m grateful for it constantly.”

  That seemed to cheer her up. She turned and padded back toward the bed, hopping easily up into her nest of blankets once more.

  Hey, what would you say to watching that painter guy again? Athena asked as I stuck my toothbrush in my mouth. The one who makes all those nice landscapes?

  “Sure,” I said. The idea of watching something mindless and comforting on TV sounded good right about now. “I could do with some mindless entertainment for a little while.”

  I washed my face and changed out of my clothes before sinking into bed with Athena curled up at my feet, determined to leave all the dark thoughts plaguing me on the shelf for the night.

  3

  “Oh, and Marianne? When you get a chance, could you bring those boxes at the foot of the stairs up to my apartment? They’re a little heavy, though, so be careful, please.”

  “Not a problem, Mr. Cromwell,” I said, smiling at the older man as he sat at the back counter of his antique shop. He wore a crazy looking pair of glasses that were fitted with several different layers of lenses, all of which were made from old microscopes. He looked like he wore an optometrist’s phoropter that was used to test a person’s eyesight, and was just using it backwards.

  In front of him on the glass-topped counter, though, was a clean cloth stretched out, and lying on it were several antique rings and earrings. He was examining each of them for authenticity. As old and frail as he seemed, it still amazed me that he could treat something so small so delicately. The tiny brushes he used to clean the jewels were laid out in an organized way, along with the polish he preferred. It always had to be Smitty’s Old Fashioned.

  “Another diamond,” Abe said, sitting back and pushing up the four or five lenses away from the real lenses, blinking to clear his vision. “And it’s at least a number three in clarity…”

  “I take it that’s good?” I asked as I slid another watch inside the glass case. These had been recently restored and were back in working order, thanks to Abe.

  “That’s better than good,” Abe said. He turned to me, showing me the glimmering rock tucked in the silver filigree setting. “Here, Marianne. Why don’t you have this one? Save your future husband some money. Unless you want me to keep it here for you, and he can just come and pick it up when he’s ready to propose?”

  I smirked at him, sliding the backing on the cabinet shut and locking it. “Very funny,” I said, getting to my feet.

  Abe chuckled as he lowered his lenses again, setting the diamond ring into a velvet lined box alongside three other rings that he’d finished examining. “I only ask because I see the way that Dr. Valerio looks at you when he comes in here. I know there must be something going on
there, since you have been spending time with him.”

  I turned my back on him, pretending to look through another box that someone had dropped off the day before. I’d already gone through it twice, but I didn’t want Abe to see the flush in my cheeks. “I haven’t been spending any time there lately.”

  “And that Mr. Blackburn…” Abe said. “My gracious, I think he just makes up excuses to come in here to see you. Not that I’m surprised, if I’m honest. You’re quite the remarkable young lady, Marianne.”

  “Well, thank you, Mr. Cromwell,” I said.

  “Though Mr. Blackburn hasn’t been here in almost two weeks now, has he?” Abe asked, sitting back in his seat, scratching his chin. “His servant Alfred was here, though. Yesterday, I think, when you were off.”

  “I see,” I said.

  “Did something happen there, my dear?” Abe asked.

  I could feel his eyes on the back of my head, and so I plunged my hand inside the box and pulled out a stack of old magazines. “I should get these out to the recycling before they come to pick it up,” I said hurriedly, and I ducked out from behind the counter.

  I stepped out into the sunlight, surprised at the warmth the afternoon held. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Cain Blackburn may have been the last person I wanted to discuss.

  I, too, had noticed his absence. He typically stopped by the antique store every Wednesday after he closed up the mortuary, and we’d talk for quite some time before I had to leave.

  But ever since that night at his house, when his sister had fallen to her death…

  I thought for certain that vampires were basically invincible. It turned out I was wrong, though. Snapping a vampire’s neck meant instant death for them, much in the same way that it would for a human.

  As much as Lucan had insisted it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help but feel guilty over and over again, fearing that it was, in fact, my fault. It never would have happened in the first place if I hadn’t gone over to the Blackburn castle to…

  To what? I still couldn’t answer that question.

  To see Rebecca. To confront the person that had so thoughtlessly ended my mother’s life. I thought it was anger mixed with a desire for closure that drove me to sneak into the tower to try and speak with her.

  I’d known there was no sense in it. I knew she wouldn’t have been able to understand me. And yet…I did it.

  She recognized me. Or rather…she thought she saw my mother in me. She even recognized that I was a faery. And then…she attacked. We fought in her tower, and she ended up falling out of the open window.

  If I hadn’t been there, she’d still be alive, and things between Cain and I would be much different.

  I walked back toward the recycling bin with a heaviness weighing on my heart. I was getting used to carrying it around, since it felt like my mind was just dying to dwell on these terrible things that kept happening to me.

  All the death that surrounded me, all the lives I’d seen lost…they were all starting to catch up with me emotionally.

  It was bad timing, too, since so many people were either pulling away, or leaving all together.

  I dumped the magazines inside the blue bin and turned back toward the front when I saw that a short, pudgy sort of woman with round cheeks and glasses was pressing something against the window near the door.

  “Hey!” I called, a shiver of anxiety running down my spine as I hurried over. “Hey, you can’t put anything up without permission!”

  The woman turned to look up at me as she pushed the tape more firmly against the glass. “Don’t worry, I’m not soliciting or anything,” she said in a high, nasally sort of voice. I noticed she was standing on her tippy toes, her brown Marianne Jane shoes scuffed and worn. “But I want to get this information out there.”

  She sounded somewhat out of breath as she lowered herself down. Taking a step back, she smiled up at her handiwork.

  The woman was probably in her early forties, with short, curly brown hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. Her cheeks were peppered with freckles, and her eyes were icy blue behind her round, thick lenses.

  Her attire was interesting, to say the least. She looked like she’d gone into Abe’s antique shop and pulled anything off the racks that remotely resembled clothing. Her jacket, which was easily two sizes too big for her, was bulky and brown, which clashed with her sweater, which was a soft yellow. Her skirt, which was pleated and fell below her knees, was olive green, and her stockings were a shocking cobalt blue.

  “You really should go in and talk to Mr. Cromwell about this,” I said, looking up at the poster.

  My eyes widened, though, as I realized what was on it.

  There were black silhouettes of creatures spanning the whole thing. One was a woman’s profile, her mouth split open wide in a grin…with pointed front teeth. Beside her was a wolf standing on its hind legs, its front paws curled into angry fists pointed up at the sky, its snout outstretched in a howl. There was another woman in a wide-brimmed, pointed hat, holding what looked like a wand in her hand, and beside her was a male that looked as if he were disappearing into thin air.

  They were all Gifted races.

  “I take it you’re having a Halloween party?” I asked hesitantly, looking back at the woman.

  She shook her head. “Hardly. Though I’m sure that’s what they would want,” she said, her tone darkening.

  “Who’s they?” I asked.

  The woman turned pointedly toward me, and held out her hand to me. “Pleased to meet you, Miss. My name is Harriet Bennet, and I am the president of the PFFP.”

  “The…what?” I asked.

  “I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of us yet,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. She grinned in a knowing way, like she knew a joke I was ignorant of. “We’re still small, but we’re growing bigger each week!”

  “What does it stand for?” I asked.

  “The Protection of Faerywood Falls from Paranormals!” she exclaimed, pointing up at the poster. “Vampires, werewolves, witches, spirits…all these things walk among us, and a group of us have banded together in order to find the truth.”

  My mouth went dry, and the color drained from my face.

  “I can see it on your face,” Harriet said, turning her narrowing eyes on me. She pointed at me. “I’ve seen that look many times before. You don’t believe me. Think that I’m crazy, even.”

  I didn’t even know how to respond to that.

  “We humans are in constant danger from these mythical creatures that seek to do us harm,” Harriet said. “And there are clues everywhere around us. Wolves howling far more frequently than normal. People that are only seen at night. Mysterious happenings that can’t be explained by normal means.”

  This wasn’t how this was supposed to be. The Ungifted were all supposed to be kept in the dark about who we were. How did they –

  “And it gets even weirder,” she said, leaning in more closely, dropping her voice. “People have been disappearing. Loved ones suddenly changing at the drop of a hat. Voices heard when no one is around. And death – ”

  “Okay,” I said, holding up my hands, unable to take anymore.

  She was reading the signs, alright. Loud and clear. A lot of things probably did indicate the presence of Gifted. So did this mean that we were all being too loud?

  Or were the Ungifted paying closer attention than we realized?

  “So the poster is just to…what? Tell everyone that you think these creatures are out there?” I asked, hoping to change the subject slightly.

  “Sorry, I’m such a scatterbrain,” Harriet said with a chuckle. “No, it’s an open invitation for our town meeting,” she said. “Our first official meeting, really. Planned. We’ve met a lot in other places, but – never mind. Losing focus again.” She let out a bark of nervous laughter. “There are a lot of people around who are concerned about the weird things that have been happening. See?” She prodded the poster. At the
bottom, in tiny letters, was a location and a time. “You should come.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that…” I said, looking up at the poster.

  It said Kirkland’s Old Sawmill. Tuesday, 5 pm.

  “You’re one of the few people who haven’t completely blown me off yet, so you’re obviously interested,” she said in her nasally voice. “Maybe our pamphlet will change your mind.”

  She pressed a thick pamphlet that smelled heavily of fresh ink into my hand and turned on her heel, heading toward a battered, twenty-year old sedan with a hatch that was covered in bumper stickers.

  “See you there!” she called over her shoulder before sliding into her car and driving away.

  I stared after her, dumbfounded.

  How? How could they have figured us out?

  Angry, I turned around and ripped the poster down from the window, crumpling it up in my hand. No one else needed to see it. They didn’t need the idea planted in their mind.

  The front door bell dinged, drawing me back to reality.

  Abe was standing there, squinting out into the bright sunlight. “Everything okay out here?” he asked. “I heard you talking with someone. Who was it?”

  “Her name was Harriet Bennet,” I said.

  Abe rolled his eyes. “Oh? And what sort of crazy scheme has she come up with this time?”

  “That’s normal for her, I take it?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately,” Abe said, watching her car pull out of the parking lot and head down the street. “So, what’s it this time? A revolutionary alternative to laundry detergent? Instant pain relief cream? Homemade bird houses?”

  “No,” I said, holding up the pamphlet she’d given me. “A paranormal awareness group.”

  Abe rubbed his brow and sighed, turning and heading back inside. “Well, this is a first…” he said.

  I followed after him, watching as he unfolded the paper.

  “Let’s see…interested citizens are encouraged to attend our meeting and propose solutions for how to identify which folk in the area might be possessors of unnatural gifts…” he read. “Oh, and; These paranormal beings could be to blame for the increase in crime and other odd happenings here in Faerywood Falls.” He stopped, mumbling the words under his breath as he read. “For heaven’s sake, Harriet…what are you putting in these people’s heads?”