Faerie Blood: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Changeling Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

“Ivy,” said Lord Colton. “Wait. She might be the only person who can tell us where the children are.”

“She can’t,” I spat. “Thanks to the spell.”

Lord Colton stepped towards the tree, his cool grey gaze locking onto the Lady’s face. “Is there no way to remove the spell, or to get around it?”

“No,” she croaked. “It can only be removed by the caster. As for getting around it—” Her mouth split into a grin—“It depends how much you value your freedom.”

Freedom. Faeries couldn’t lie—
that
was a spell, of a kind. But it came second to the most important spell of all in Faerie: promises. If you made a promise to a faerie, as far as I knew, it could override anything.

Roots blocked my path, surrounding both myself and the Mage Lord. Anger still pulsed through my veins, but if I killed her, I’d lose my one chance for answers. Lord Colton was right. I’d dealt with faeries long enough to know there wasn’t only one way.

“You tell me where the person who took those children is hiding, and I’ll owe you a favour. Make a vow.”

My heart thumped. This was dangerous—hell, I of all people knew the risks of making a deal with one of
them.
A promise was the most powerful of spells. Maybe enough to negate the silencing spell placed on the Lady of the Tree.

I expected to have to stab her again. I didn’t expect her to fall silent, the roots withdrawing into the soil until nothing remained.

“Very well.”

Huh?
She must have a hell of a favour to ask if she gave in so easily.

“Where can I find the children?” I asked. It was impossible to be specific enough for faeries not to find loopholes, but I hoped the question would work. “Give me the address.”

“Seventeen Blake Street.”

I stowed that away for later. “And the favour?”

“I will call you when I need it.”

Roots shot from the ground and sent me tumbling head over heels. I pitched against a tree at the clearing’s edge, and looked up to see the Lady’s face vanish into the bark.

Lord Colton approached. He reached to pull me to my feet, and I was too surprised not to let him. I stumbled against him, noticing his clothes remained immaculate. Again.

“Are you okay?” He let go of my hand, leaving a trail of warmth. I hadn’t noticed how freezing I was, in spite of the sweat and blood drying on my face. None of the blood had landed on him, either.

“I’ll live.” I probably looked like a reanimated undead, but that hardly mattered. I shook dirt out of my hair and brushed it from my clothes, just to avoid stares later. Not because I felt ten times as dishevelled next to the Mage Lord.

“You made a deal,” said Lord Colton.

“It was all I could think of. Faeries are big on promises. It’s their thing.”

“Really, now.” He didn’t sound accusing. Just curious. Apparently, he’d accepted my expertise and let me take the lead. And he’d helped me, even if his sword had almost taken my head off. Maybe having him along wasn’t such a bad deal.

Maybe I didn’t mind not being alone for the walk back through the creepy forest.

“Damn,” I said. “We actually got a lead. What d’you say? Should we go?”

He stared at the tree, a crease between his brows.

“Lord Colton?”

“Call me Vance,” he said.

Okay. Didn’t expect that. “Should we follow? She’s one of those pure faerie types, so she didn’t lie.”

“She might have concealed the truth, though. Right?”

I smiled despite myself. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.” I paused. “I’d say we go. But get backup.”

He flashed me a smile, too. “Now
you’re
getting the hang of it.”

Touché.

CHAPTER TWELVE

One terse phone call later, our silent chauffeur took us to the other side of town. I fidgeted, aware I was still covered in dirt, but Lord Colton—Vance—didn’t comment on the bloodstains I left on the car’s seat. The driver’s eyes kept flickering in my direction, though he didn’t say a word.

“Do you know this place we’re going to?” I asked Vance.

“It’s an old abandoned factory. Nobody lives in that district anymore, so I never thought to send anyone there.”

“So your mages are patrolling within the town limits? Or just your own territory?”

“As much ground as we can cover,” he said. “From the Necromancer Guild up to our end of town. Maybe that’s a mistake. If the person responsible is operating from the abandoned part of town, it opens up a lot of other possibilities.”

The abandoned part of town… “People left there during the war.”

“Left, or died,” he said.

I kept my eyes facing the front, my hands clenching on my lap. My grasp on geography wasn’t the greatest, and I hadn’t seen a map of the town recently, but I was pretty sure the Lady of the Tree had given us an address in the area completely destroyed during the invasion. The part of town I’d lived in, once. I didn’t want to discuss my history, so I figured it’d be best to feign ignorance. “So we’re going past necromancer territory?”

“Yes. Whereabouts do your jobs usually cover? Within the town’s limits?”

“Yeah.” I paused. “None of my cases have ever given me this much hassle.”

“Not even the hydra?”

“No. Have you been reading my records?” Dammit, Larsen.

His eyes remained on me. “As I said, I looked into your history. I’m curious. From the rate of your jobs’ completion, you ought to be earning twice what you do. Working for Larsen is limiting you.”

Yeah. Well, I might be out of a job by the week’s end unless I solve this case and find the changelings again.
And probably grovel a lot. Ugh.

“I thought I said not to tell me how I should be doing my job.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” said Vance. “I was merely making a suggestion. Clearly, working for Larsen doesn’t make you happy.”

I gave a short laugh. “It pays the bills.”
Not that you’d know what it’s like to live hanging over the edge of poverty.
He’d been born into a family of privilege and power, never in danger of being trampled underfoot when the faeries invaded. I didn’t hold grudges if I could help it, but damn if he wasn’t getting on my every last nerve. Even if he had a point. I
hated
being dependent on Larsen for a living.

“There are other options,” he said.

“For a witch with basic skills?” I shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Irene would rust if I left her behind to go and work at a bar or shop.” I tapped the sword at my waist.

“You named your weapon?” he said, a bemused expression on his face.

“You didn’t?” Of course, he was unarmed. His weapons had disappeared after we’d left the forest where the Lady of the Tree lived, presumably back to the manor. “Guess you own a hundred swords. I have one. Irene’s been with me since I started working for Larsen.”

“Hmm.” His eyes shifted from the sword, and I flushed when I realised the side of my top had ripped open at some point during the fight. Because not so much as a speck of dirt had landed on him, I’d forgotten my clothes were shredded from being thrown around by the tree roots.

Hoping he couldn’t see my blush, I said, “Now you’ve got my life story, I get to know yours. How’d you get elected to the top of the Mage Lords?”

A moment’s pause. “I killed the last guy.”

I blinked, startled. “You what?”

“He went out of control.” Vance’s manner was casual, but something in his tone suggested he didn’t welcome further questions.
Okay…

“Is that possible? I thought…” I didn’t know what I thought. Hell, I didn’t know much about mage abilities at all. Not that it was possible to lose control.

“Everything has a limit,” he said. “Some more than others.” He glanced out the window. “We’re almost there.”

A chill crept up my arms, sending every stray thought away. The park might have looked abandoned, but the sounds of traffic from the town had still been audible. Here was a ghost town. Hopefully not a literal one.
Glad I’m not a necromancer
. Every house had a distinctly abandoned look, and the few remaining cars were rusted and battered. Further along, signs of the war became more obvious—doors hanging from hinges, ground torn up, holes in the road. The old red brick factory lay at the road’s end, its cracked windows reflecting the slither of sunlight peeking through the grey clouds in the sky.

The factory looked like the least obvious place for a faerie hangout. It was too enclosed, too human. Still, I shook all over, like that kelpie had hurled another wave of icy water over my head. What was the matter with me? We hadn’t even set foot inside yet. No obvious threats presented themselves. And yet I wanted nothing more than to get away from here. Far away.

“Ivy?” Vance have me a curious look. What had I been doing, staring vacantly at the building?

“Just got a bad vibe.” Obviously. Since there was supposed to be a child stealing evil faerie hiding here. And we needed to get inside if we wanted to get the missing teenagers back.

The door had been kicked in already, but Vance pressed his foot to the dangling remains and shoved it aside. He shrugged. “We want them to know we’re here.”

“Stealth isn’t your thing, is it?”

“It is when I need it to be.”

The creeping vines over the door gave the odd, uncomfortable sense of entering a forest rather than a building. The smell of mildew mingled with something else, a familiar scent like rotten flowers. The smell of
them.

The hairs on my arms stood up. Was I imagining the smell? Possibly. Faeries had a way of learning your deepest fears and then hitting you with them. If there was some kind of opening to Faerie here in this building…I’d run.

No. You won’t. Those kids need you.

Goddammit. Ten years later and I couldn’t help feeling like that scared, helpless little girl the faeries had tormented. I clenched my teeth together and gripped Irene, stealing comfort from the way my hand fit snugly to the hilt.
I’m not her. I’m not that girl. Not anymore.

“Wish the Lady of the Tree gave us a floor plan,” I said when we came to a long corridor. I didn’t want to search the whole building. My bravado only stretched so far before it’d snap like cheap elastic.

Another rattling sound ghosted through the corridor. The wind? Or a spirit?
Goddammit, Ivy, get your shit together.
Ghosts were harmless compared to anything
living
that might await us in here.

“Don’t like haunted houses?” asked Vance. The dim light made it hard to see his face, but I’d bet he was smirking.

“This isn’t a haunted house, it’s a den for dark faeries. Imagine the most twisted ghost possible on crack and you aren’t even halfway there.”

Wisely, he shut up.

I looked around the corridor. Other than cobwebs, there were no signs of life. But the smell pervaded. The smell of the darkest corner of Faerie.

It shouldn’t be here in this realm. At all.

“Left or right?” I asked Vance.

“Right.”

He sounded confident, but then, he always did. Still, I turned right anyway.

The corridor changed. Or so it seemed. Blue light spilled from somewhere, though there were no windows. Vines snaked along the floor, and I stopped, expecting them to move and strike me like those roots. The decaying smell grew worse than ever.

Then the music started. A familiar piano tune that crawled down my spine like a thousand ice-cold spiders.

Fucking faeries.

Faeries leave marks wherever their magic strikes. The parts of the mortal world they touch are never quite the same afterwards. Looking into that corridor, a metallic taste rose on my tongue, the dizzying smell of flowers hit me like a heavy blow—and above all, the music, that damned music, slid into my bones.

I shook myself fiercely, not caring when Vance gave me an odd look. Just another perk of being tuned into Faerie. He didn’t know how good he had it.

The thing about Faerie is, even when you’re there, it often seems like a dream. Every memory of the place carries a dreamlike tint. The only reason I hadn’t lost my mind when I came home was because it was too easy to forget it really happened. To me.

Certain sounds brought all those memories rushing back. Like most music. Certain smells—decay, a death scent on the breeze—had the same effect. I blinked, alarmed to feel tears stinging at my eyes.

There was real magic here. No jokes, and no replacements. Not even the pale imitation of half-blood district. This was one hundred percent faerie. Not Summer, nor Winter, but the dark magic of the awful between place that clawed its way into my dreams. And I’d tried so, so hard to escape it.

“Ivy?” Vance watched me. In the dark, I couldn’t read his expression.

“This is our place,” I said.