Burning Bright (Ivy Granger)
Read Burning Bright (Ivy Granger) Online
Authors: E.J. Stevens
Burning Bright
By
E.J. Stevens
Burning Bright
E.J. Stevens
Published by Sacred Oaks Press
Copyright 2014 E.J. Stevens
All rights reserved
Publisher’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or
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the hard work of this author.
Pronunciations are given
phonetically for names and races found in the Ivy Granger series. Alternate
names and nicknames have been provided in parentheses. In some cases, the
original folklore has been changed to suit the city of Harborsmouth and its
environs.
Ailinn: ah-lynn
Aleya: uh-LEE-yuh
Arachne: uh-RAK-nee
Athame: ah-thaw-may
Banshee: ban-shee (Bean
Sidhe, Bean Sìth)
Barguest: BAR-guyst
(Bargheist, Black Dog)
Bean Tighe: ban tig
Béchuille: beh-huh-IL (Bé
Chuille)
Bema: BEE-muh
Bheur: ver (like air)
Blaosc: BLEE-usk
Bogey: BOH-gee
Boggart: BOG-ert
Boitata: boy-TAH-ta
Brollachan:
broll-ach-HAWN
Brownie: BROW-nee (Bwca,
Urisk, Hearth Faerie, Domestic Hobgoblin)
Bugbear: BUG-bayr
(Bug-a-boo, Boggle-bo)
Bwca: BOO-kuh (see
Brownie)
The Cailleach: kall-ahk
(The Blue Hag, Cailleach Bheur, Queen of Winter, Crone, Veiled One, Winter Hag)
Cat Sidhe: KAT shee or
kayth shee (Faerie Cat, Cait Shith, Cait Sith)
Ceffyl Dŵr: keff-EEL
dore (Kelpie King, Ceff)
Chir batti: CHEER
bhut-TEA
Clurichaun: kloor-ih-kon
(clobhair)
Cu Sith: KOO shee
Daeva: DAY-va
Demon: DEE-mun
Djinn: JIN
Draugr: DROW-ger
Duergar: doER-gar
Each Uisge: erk OOSH-kuh
(Water Horse)
Elphame: EL-faym
Emain Ablach: EH-van
ah-BLAH
Faerie: FAIR-ee (Fairy,
Sidhe, Fane, Wee Folk, The Gentry, People of Peace, Themselves, Sidhe, Fae,
Fay, Good Folk)
Fear Dearg: far DAR-rig (The
Red Man)
Fionn mac Cumhaill: FIN
mac COO-will
Forneus: FOR-nee-us
(Demon, Great Marquis of Hell)
Fragarach: FRAG ah roch
Fuath: FOO-ah
Gaius Aurelius: GUY-us
aw-REE-lee-us
Galliel: GAL-ee-el
(Unicorn)
Ghoul: GOOL (Revenant)
Glaistig: GLASS-tig (The
Green Lady)
Gnome: NOHM
Goblin: GOB-lin
Griffin: GRIF-fin
(Gryphon, Griffon)
Grindylow: GRIN-dee-loh
Gwarwyn-a-throt:
GWAR-win-uh-THROT
Hamadryad: ha-ma-DRY-ad
(Tree Nymph)
Harborsmouth:
HAR-bers-MOUTH
Henkie: HEN-kee
Hippocampus: hip-po-CAM-pus
Hob-o-Waggle
HOB-oh-WAG-gul (Brownie, son of Wag-at-the-Wa)
Hy Brasil: HY bra-ZIL
Ignus fatuus: IG-nus
FATCH-you-us
Inari: i-NAH-ree
Jenny Greenteeth: JEN-nee
GREEN-teeth (Water Hag)
Kelpie: KEL-pee (Water
Horse, Nyaggle)
Lamia: LAY-me-uh
Leanansídhe: lan-awn-shee
(Lhiannan Sidhe, Leanhaun Shee, Leannan Sìth, Fairy Mistress)
Leprechaun: le-pre-khan
(leipreachán)
Loup garou: LOOP guh-ROO
Mab: MAB (Unseelie Queen)
Manannán mac Lir:
MAH-nah-nahn mac leer
Mauthe doog: MOW-thee DOO
Melusine: MEL-oo-seen
Mermaid: MER-mayd (male
Merman)
Merry Dancer: MER-ree
DAN-ser (Fir Chlis)
Murúch: mer-ook (Merrow,
Moruadh, Murúghach)
Nixie: NIX-ee
Nuckelavees:
NOOK-uh-LAY-veez
Oberon: OH-ber-on
(Seelie King)
Peg Powler: PEG POW-ler
(Peg Powler of the Trees, Water Hag)
Peri: PER-ee
Pixie: PIK-see (Pisgie)
Pooka: POO-kuh (Phooka,
Pouka, Púca, Pwca)
Redcap: RED-kap (red cap)
Roca Barraidh: ROH-ka
BAR-rah
Saytr: SAY-ter
Selkie: SEL-kee
Shellycoat: SHEL-lee-cote
Sidhe: SHEE (see Faerie)
Succubus: SUK-you-bus
(male Incubus)
Tech Duinn: tek DOON
Tezcatlipocan:
tehs-cah-tlee-poh-cahn
Tir na nOg: TEER na NOHG
Tir Tairngire: TEER
TEARN-geer
Titania: ti-TAY-nee-uh
(Seelie Queen)
Troll: TROHL
Tuatha Dé Danann: tootha
DAY da-NAN
Tylwyth Teg: TILL-with
TEEG (Seelie Court)
Unicorn: YOU-ni-korn
Unseelie: un-SEE-lee
Vampire: VAM-pyr (Undead)
Will-o’-the-Wisp:
WIL-oh-tha-wisp (Gyl Burnt Tayle, Jack o’ Lantern, Wisp, Ghost Light, Friar’s
Lantern, Corpse Candle, Hobbledy, Aleya, Hobby Lantern, Chir Batti, Faerie
Fire, Spunkies, Min Min Light, Luz Mala, Pinket, Ellylldan, Spook Light, Ignus
Gatuus, Orbs, Boitatá, and Hinkypunk)
Ynis Afallon: un-NIS
AH-fuhl-on
Yue Fei: yweh-fay
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
-William Blake,
The Tyger
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;
-Shakespeare,
Sonnet XIX
W
elcome to
Harborsmouth, where monsters walk the streets unseen by humans…except those with
second sight.
Whether visiting our modern business district or exploring
the cobblestone lanes of the Old Port quarter, please enjoy your stay. When
you return home, do tell your friends about our wonderful city—just leave out
any supernatural details.
Don’t worry—most of our guests never experience anything
unusual. Otherworlders, such as faeries, vampires, and ghouls, are quite adept
at hiding within the shadows. Many are also skilled at erasing memories. You
may wake in the night screaming, but you won’t recall why. Be glad that you
don’t remember—you are one of the fortunate ones.
If you do encounter something unnatural, we recommend the
services of Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective. Co-founder of Private Eye
detective agency, Ivy Granger is a relatively new member of our small business
community. Her offices can be found on Water Street, in the heart of the Old
Port.
Miss Granger has a remarkable ability to receive visions by
the act of touching an object. This skill is useful in her detective work,
especially when locating lost items. Whether you are looking for a lost brooch
or missing persons, no job is too small for Ivy Granger—and she could certainly
use the business.
We can also provide, upon request, a list of highly skilled
undertakers. If you are in need of their services, then we also kindly direct
you to Harborsmouth Cemetery Realty. It’s never too early to contact them,
since we have a booming “housing” market. Demand is quite high for a local
plot—there are always people
dying
for a place to stay.
E
ver play whack-a-mole
with a jincan? No? Well, then aren’t you the fortunate one. Not only do jincan
look like overgrown caterpillars with pointy teeth, but they also breed like
bunnies and have a knack for undermining integral weight-bearing structures,
leaving piles of rubble in their wake. Oh, and they smell like rotten eggs
when squished—just my luck.
I scanned the cratered parking lot and sighed. Ever since
Jenna was shipped off to Europe on some top-secret Hunters’ Guild mission,
Harborsmouth’s supernatural pest problem had grown out of control. Jenna was
one of the youngest members in the Harborsmouth Guild office and, as such, was
responsible for the less desirable hunting jobs—like taking care of a nest of jincan.
Now that she was gone, that job fell to the private sector.
I tightened my grip on the iron hammer and scowled. With
Jenna gone, and the Guild in no hurry to find a replacement, jobs had come
rolling in. I guess I should have been happy for the work, but no amount of
money would make this feel like a real case. These jobs were just trumped up
pest control. I’d much rather be working a case that required more than
whacking some creature over the head. Better yet, I wanted more time to focus
on the search for my father.
I’d recently learned that I was half-fae and that my
deadbeat dad was Will-o’-the-Wisp, or Willem as my human mom knew him, King of
the Wisps. Most of my life I’d spent feeling abandoned by the guy, which
pissed me off. My psychic abilities had labeled me as a freak and an outcast,
relegating me to the sidelines where I watched other people live their safe,
happy, normal lives. Even my mother and step-father had distanced themselves from
their freak daughter. To say I had abandonment issues was an understatement.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered, in a search for
answers about my awakening wisp abilities, that my dad had been a victim too.
He’d been tricked by a demon, possibly Lucifer himself, to carry a cursed
lantern that brought disasters wherever he walked the earth. In an attempt to
keep me and my mom safe, Will-o’-the-Wisp had left Harborsmouth. Now I not
only needed to find my father, I desperately wanted to.
But time was running out. As if my psychic gift and second
sight weren’t bad enough, I was growing into a whole new set of wisp abilities
that I had no idea how to control. And fae who can’t keep their supernatural
side hidden from humans don’t have a long lifespan—even for immortals. If I
don’t find my father soon, I’ll be facing a fae firing squad. In fact, I could
already feel the chill of fae assassins breathing down my neck.
Yeah, sorting out my family issues and finding a way to
control my wisp powers should have been my one and only task, but information
doesn’t come cheap. It takes money to grease those kinds of gears, hence my
jumping at the chance to fill the void that Jenna had left in her wake. Jobs
like these paid in cash and favors, both of which were in short supply since
beginning my search for answers.
As it was, I was accruing debt with the wrong people. Take,
for example, my debt to the vampire master of Harborsmouth. I’d promised to
work one case of that pompous, old dust bag’s choosing. Yeah, that was bound
to go well. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I’d made not one, but two faerie
bargains with The Green Lady. I just knew the glaistig would be calling in her
favors soon. I’d caught her guards watching me more than once. I knew she was
keeping tabs on her investment and that scared me worse than the threat of
faerie assassins.
Unfortunately, the vamp and the glaistig weren’t the only
ones I’d made bargains with over the past few months. Their bargains were just
the most likely to result in death or insanity. By comparison, my alliance
with Sir Torn and the local
cat sidhe
was a walk in the park. And that
was saying a whole lot about just how potentially deadly my bargains with The
Green Lady and the vampire master of the city really were. Torn was a shadowy,
feline, pain in my ass who obviously thought my roommate and business partner
was catnip—like I didn’t have enough to worry about.
