Fixing Fae Problems Page 8

  The room was small—not unlike the Institute’s own vault—with dark blue velvety wallpaper, a mix of modern bumished metal and heavy mahogany furniture, and a few artifacts on display. An old vol-ume lay open in its own display case.

  Miller sat on a chair, slumped over the desk’s surface.

  “Uhh,” I whispered. “Is he dead?”

  Lockhart waved his hand dismissively. “Unconscious. Death spells are for emergencies.”

  “He didn’t make you drink the potion?” | asked, shocked.

  The sore snorted. “I make that potion. You think I’d do it so it af fects me?”

  Should’ve seen that coming. “Where’s the list?”

  “Come, now,” Lockhart said as if I were a child. “He wasn’t going to

  actually show it to me just like that”

  He had a point, but I wasn’t going to give it to him. Petty of me, per haps, but in the grand scale of things, unimportant. So, I stuck out my tongue and began looking around the room. Aidan had already started his search, uninterested in what had happened to Miller. Probably not a lot of love lost there.

  I approached the safe in the wall. Like the Institute, the Wishing Well’‘s vault also had its own safe. “Bet it’s in here.”

  “It’s not,” said Aidan, sure of himself.

  “Why not?”

  “Opening the safe whenever he needs access would be a pain. He’ll have it somewhere secure but that he can access easily.”

  It made sense. “Somewhere like his phone?”

  Aidan and Lockhart paused in their perusal, then looked at each other as if incredulous I’d thought of that before they had. Maddie - 1, jaded part-Fae team - 0.

  Aidan straightened Miller with a definite lack of care—really, really

  no love lost there—and Lockhart began patting the man’s chest.

  “Jeans pockets?” I suggested.

  Lockhart moved his perusal to the man’s hips and let out a small exclamation of triumph. He retrieved Miller’s phone, and Aidan allowed the man to fall back onto the table. He did so with a loud thud. Ouch.

  “Let’s see,” Lockhart murmured. Aidan peered over his shoulder. I ran around the desk to take my own peek.

  It was the lock screen.

  “You think he has the password written down somewhere?” I asked hopefully.

  Aidan took the phone from Lockhart, shaking his head. “No password. He must use his fingerprint. It’s faster.”

  I wasn’t sure we were going to get that lucky, but Aidan proved me wrong. Within a few seconds, we had unlocked the phone and were

  staring at a mix of apps and games. I tugged at Aidan’s forearm, silently

  asking him to lower the phone so I didn’t have to strain my neck. He obliged and swiped through the screens.

  “There,” I said, sneaking a hand in and tapping on a spreadsheet application.

  “No way,” Lockhart said.

  Aidan scrolled down the list of files, and yes way.

  “Nice,” he murmured, tapping on a file aptly named “Client Requests.” He turned the phone sideways so most of the columns fit into view.

  Client number, item name, item type, dates, and notes.

  “Does he have another sheet with the client numbers and names?” I asked.

  Aidan browsed the file list again. There weren’t that many. “Doesn’t seem like it” He returned to the request list and, using his own phone, began to take photos.

  Sending himself a shareable link would’ve probably been too

  suspicious.

  Once he was done, we went back to studying the list.

  “The client number thing is going to be a problem,” | thought aloud.

  “We can extrapolate once we know what they’ve been looking for. For example…” He changed the item names column to appear in alpha-betical order and scrolled to the Es. After a few more swipes of his fin-ger, he focused on a whole section about Eyes. Seven people currently looking for Eyes, and one got a checkmark a month and a half ago.

  “Sullivan?” I asked. Too coincidental to be anyone else. Either Kane had marked him off, or Miller had brokered the original deal that had ended with me finding Greenie’s Eye in a filing cabinet.

  Aidan nodded and reorganized the spreadsheet by client number. That brought us to the quite impressive list of artifacts Sullivan had been asking about, and the equally impressive amount that he had

  apparently already gotten, or thought better of, that were grayed out.

  “Wait a moment,” I said sharply.

  “Hmm?”

  I poked one of the transactions. “That was a day after I rescued you.”

  Lockhart coughed a Iol.

  Aidan ignored him, intent on the screen.

  I tugged on his arm again. “It might not be Sullivan. Or someone has been using his account, passing as him to remain anonymous. They must not have realized Sullivan had already gotten gooed by Lord Velei. Do you think Sullivan had a partner and shared his list? Otherwise, it would’ve been too obvious if someone had randomly used his name to buy artifacts. Maybe Sullivan disappearing is what triggered this whole thing.”

  “Maybe,” Aidan said. He took more photos of this section of the spreadsheet.

  Disappointment floored me. “But that means we can’t use the list to

  figure out who it is if they’re using Sullivan’s account.”

  “It might be completely unrelated, but it’s a start,” Aidan said. He tossed the phone to Lockhart. “Take whatever you need.”

  Lockhart lost no time in busying himself with Miller’s phone and using his own to take more photos of the screen.

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  “You and I are going to a safe location for now and study these lists,” Aidan said. “I’ll put some feelers out and check in on my contacts tomorrow.”

  I pointed at Lockhart, who was wrestling with Miller’s unconscious form to return the phone to its pocket.

  “T’ll stay here and make sure Miller remembers nothing,” he said. “Then I’ll go check my own sources.”

  Aidan gave him his burner phone number, and then we were off. While Lockhart had the advantage of nobody knowing how he looked in

  person, Aidan and I had to make use of the freight elevator. Amazing

  how few other people used the thing, really.

  On the way down, Aidan said, “Are the artifacts safe?”

  “Safest place I could think of,” I told him, feeling my excitement rise again now that we were finally alone. I allowed the back of my fingers to come into contact with the fabric of his jeans. Would he mind if I turned and straight-up hugged him?

  As if thinking the same, his hand found mine and squeezed.

  There were so many things I wanted to ask. It might’ve been less than a day since I had seen him last, but it had felt like forever.

  “We need to retrieve them,” he said.

  “Not a problem.”

  The elevator ride ended, and we moved through the basement back to my unofficial base of operations. I almost saluted the rainbow cat on the wall once we stepped inside.

  Greenie peeked in from the wall, then woofed in happiness and

  stepped the whole way in—goo-pet still draped around its neck and

  shoulders. | wondered if they had been playing a game of catch the tooth over at the ley lines while the hoomans risked their lives in pur-suit of the big bad Institute directorship stealer.

  Aidan went to the hound, showing an impressive amount of composure at the current state of our situation, considering he had only met Greenie briefly twice before, and patted the creature’s side like it was a horse. I even heard a “good boy.” Expectantly, he looked at me. “Where to?”

  “Well, it’s your safe house.”

  His stern expression cracked into a small smile. “The artifacts, Mad-die.”

  “Oh! Right.” ] retrieved my backpack from the shelf. “Here.”

  He gaped like a fish. “
Here?”

  “What?” I ask defensively. “The whole place is a maze. It’s not like anyone’s going to find this room randomly.”

  “Maddie…”

  “Besides, Greenie would eat them if they did.”

  He inhaled deeply. “Fair points.”

  I shouldered the backpack, grinning. The artifacts clinked against each other, loud in the room.

  “Ifthere are any artifacts left to hide,” Aidan murmured with an air of great suffering.

  “They’re sturdy. They’ll be okay.” I joined him by Greenie’s side. “Greenie, down, please.”

  Greenie, apparently, was still in a playful mood.

  “No time for this,” Aidan said. His hands closed around my waist, and he lifted me onto Greenie’s back. The man did use the gym in the Institute’s basement, after all.

  I scrambled into a more comfortable position astride the hound, avoiding the goo-pet, then got a duffel bag to the face.

  “Hold that,” Aidan said, a hint of laughter in his voice. In an elegant

  movement, he got atop Greenie and settled close to me, the backpack

  between us.

  “Get us to the portal cavern,” he added, though I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or the hound.

  Since Greenie only wagged his tail, ] repeated the order in a more polite tone. I decided to find him some treats after this was over to re-ward his loyalty.

  Greenie yipped and leaped into the wall. By now, I was well used to the mass of goo we had to pass through to get into the ley lines.

  Hah, no, I’m kidding. It would never not be a weird, gross experience feeling the thick sludge slide across my skin.

  I would never get used to traveling through the ley lines, either, I thought in awe at our surroundings once more, hearing the eternal rush in my ears. Did Aidan know about their origins, or had the lines always been here, changing and evolving with the rest of the planet from the very beginning? Perhaps one day, when I didn’t owe Lord Velei for repeatedly tricking him out of his Keeper, we could sit

  somewhere together and I’d ask him.

  After a couple of minutes of traveling through the lines, Greenie took a goo-exit and landed us in the familiar cavern.

  “Is this yours, or do you time-share?” I craned my neck to watch Aidan dismount Greenie. He blinked a few times, gathering his wits. It was a little annoying that my Fae blood count was so low, the ley lines didn’t affect me at all. Useful, but annoying.

  Aidan shook his head a couple of times then gestured for me to get off Greenie.

  I did so, sliding gracefully down the hound’s mossy side. I was getting good at this. Soon, I’d be entering competitions.

  Aidan touched the portal. “The hound can’t follow us this time,” he warned.

  “I’m sorry, Greenie,” I told him, scratching him behind his ears and trying to ignore the goo-pet when it slid up my arm toward the backpack. Nope. Still yucky. I fought a shiver and lost, then refocused on the

  hound. At least the goo thing wasn’t attempting to get under my T-shirt. “You go back to wherever you go for now, okay?”

  Greenie whined and butted me with his muzzle. I stumbled but held my ground.

  The portal cleared, throwing the cavern into near-complete darkness.

  Aidan offered his hand. “Come.”

  I took it, and together we went through the portal.

  10

  Magic caressed my skin like soft plumes—so much better than using the portal spells—and I felt no impediment as I stepped into the other side.

  Faerie crystals came to life as soon as Aidan was fully across. The portal closed behind us, turning opaque like the back of a mirror instead of the usual ambient light shimmering. Some sort of safety measure? | wanted to touch it, to see if it was as solid as it looked, but thought better of it and inspected our surroundings instead.

  We were in a rustic room—log walls, wooden furniture. A stone fireplace stood on one side, scarcely used by the looks of it, and a big bed commandeered the opposite wall. The kind that had four posters but no canopy. Another door led out of the room, and a couple of windows let absolutely no light in.

  I approached them. The outside of the cabin was a collection of dark

  shadows against darkness. I could make out a canopy of trees, but no

  stars dotted the sky. If I weren’t born and raised in the city, the starless night view would’ve probably freaked me out. It was Faerie, all right.

  “Where are we?” | asked, still trying—and failing—to discern more shapes in our surroundings. “Other than the middle of a Faerie forest,” I added ruefully.

  “My family owns the place.”

  I heard the noise of his duffel bag landing on the rug. My gaze lingered on the outside for a few more seconds before I turned to face him.

  “Your family owns a chunk of Faerie,” I pointed out

  Aidan appeared a lot more relaxed now that we had made it in one piece, his golden eyes warm in the cozy room. Wherever “here” was must be well hidden. “My branch of the family.”

  “Like the room in Lord Velei’s mansion?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not scared Lord Velei will come?”

  “There are powerful wards hiding and protecting this place. It’s been kept outside the main family’s knowledge, so there is no reason for him to suspect its existence. Not to suspect its exact location,” he clarified. “I’m sure he realizes there are hidden spots in his lands.”

  I glanced back at the windows. “What about creatures?”

  “The wards repel them.”

  “And the Council’s tracking spell?”

  He touched the thin chain around his neck and took the ring from under his Henley. “This nullifies it”

  It was a plain silver ring, no gemstones or decoration but for a squiggly line running the outside. “You sure it doesn’t turn you invisible?”

  His laugh warmed my insides. “Up to a point, it does. But not to worry, it wasn’t made to be worn.” He let the ring drop against his chest and reached for the straps of my backpack. “Let’s get comfortable. You

  hungry?”

  My stomach grumbled in response. “Yeah.”

  “There should be some food around.” He dropped the backpack by the hearth and opened one of the doors. Beyond loomed a pantry. I assumed the other led to either a bathroom or the exit. Or an exit into an outhouse bathroom. I shivered. The idea of having to traipse in the darkness outside to use the facilities wasn’t a welcome one.

  I sat on the plush rug in the middle of the room since there were no tables—only a chest of drawers by the bed and a couple of shelves—and watched him rummage through the pantry. Somewhere above us, the dark mass of the goo-pet teased my vision.

  “The ring is an artifact? What’s the cost?”

  “It nullifies spells attached to me, but I can’t do any, either.”

  “But you used the portal—wait a second,” I exclaimed in outrage. “Why didn’t you give it to me to nullify the memory spell until we found a cure?”

  He came out of the pantry, a few bundles and a jug of water in his

  arms, and kicked the door closed. As if he had all the time in the world, he put everything down before leisurely lowering himself to sit cross-legged across from me.

  “Aidan!”

  A smile teased his lips. “It wouldn’t have worked with Lockhart’s spell.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s designed to counteract tracking and similar spells—spells that don’t directly affect one physically but act as an added layer, or a collar of sorts.”

  “Oh.” Another thought came to mind. “But if it doesn’t allow you to cast spells, how did you use the portal or the portal spell?”

  “They’re a different type of magic—the spell remains active in the frame, I only have to modify it. With the portal spell in my basement, the Faerie crystals keep it going, and the ink does most of the job of

&nb
sp; activating it. I simply need to awaken its magic and give it context.”

  “That’s convenient,” I] murmured, watching greedily as he un-wrapped a piece of cheese. He used his ever-present Swiss Army knife to cut a chunk and offer it to me.

  “It’s not so much convenient as the portal never being switched off, if you will.”

  I munched on my cheese. It had a soft flavor with a bit of a kick at the end. Yum. “Is that why the portal in the cave is always emitting light? You leave it running intentionally?” Unlike Lockhart’s portal, which he’d had to open every time he’d used it.

  “Yep.”

  “How does that work? Where does it get the magic to keep running?”

  “The wood it’s made of is suffused with—” He arched a brow. “Do you really want to know?”

  Only one thing powerful and gross enough to keep something like that going.

  “It’s blood, isn’t it?” I shuddered.

  He chuckled and ate his own piece of cheese—much bigger than mine. I took the knife and cut myself another chunk, fixing the unfair-ness of the situation.

  We finished the cheese and made some inroads into a selection of dry bread in companionable silence. Aidan still carried a lot of the aloof air he usually draped around himself like a cloak, but somewhere along the way—Lockhart’s inhibition spell, perhaps—he had allowed it to drop slightly, to allow himself to be at ease around me.

  Considering his usual hot and cold routine, this was a pleasantly warm and welcome addition.

  “Now that the sore isn’t around,” I said, “what happened at the Council?”

  “They read me a list of the complaints. ] explained the situation, and that was it.”

  “You told them you were being framed and they believed you?”

  Aidan barked a laugh. “Hell, no. I didn’t tell them that part.”

  “But they let you go so easily…”

  “What did you think, that they were going to throw me into a dun-geon and torture me with rats?”

  I squirmed uneasily. “Kind of?”

  He snorted. “I have friends in the Council. They couldn’t stop the charges and the investigation going through, but I didn’t get to be director for nothing. There is a certain status that goes with it.”

  “Not to mention Lord Velei,” 1 murmured, thoughtful. They probably didn’t want to mess too much with someone directly connected to the local Fae Lord.