by Nova Nelson
And the same grin that hadn’t aged a day in over a decade.
While most witches preferred to wear the colors of their kind, Ezra almost never donned the fiery colors of the South Wind, instead opting for attire that complemented the rich, chocolate tones of his skin. Today, he was dressed nearly head to toe in a beautiful lilac suit with small bits of ornate orange embroidery around the collar and wrists. Perhaps that was his tip of the hat to his pyromancy, or perhaps he just thought it looked good on him.
And Ruby wouldn’t have disagreed with that assessment. Her stomach twisted every time she saw him, regardless of what he was wearing.
Or not wearing.
Clifford nipped her on the hamstring. Whoops. Must have let that thought slip through. She’d been doing a lot more of that lately. Was her mind going already? Mid-forties seemed a bit early to start worrying about that.
Regardless, the small nip allowed her to get her mind out of the gutter and act like a completely normal witch (who could see and talk to ghosts), one who was not at all hung up on her un-aging ex.
“Well, if it isn’t Ruby True! And just when I thought my day couldn’t get any more fruitful.”
“You’ve got quite a haul there,” she said, nodding at his hovering bags.
“You’re telling me! I came down here for one thing and ended up with all this.”
“What’d you come down here for?”
“Cactus flower.”
She scanned his bags for such an item just as he groaned. “Of course. I forgot to buy the cactus flower. I got distracted over at Ogleman’s booth by a lovely pair of binding stones he’d brought back with him from a trip to Zatrian and completely forgot about the one thing I needed.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Distractions are easy to come by in the Emporium.”
He did a quick scan of her. “I’d say.”
She rolled her eyes and bit back a girlish grin. “Oh, don’t you start. I’m in a hurry myself. Need to get out of here before the performance starts.” She nodded over to the stage where a handful of fairies already fluttered around, setting up the props and adjusting the curtains.
“I’ve heard this one is actually good,” he said.
“How would anyone know that? They haven’t performed yet.”
“You know I have connections in other realms. Their reputation precedes them.”
She bit back a snide remark.
“Anyway,” he said, clearly sensing her sudden hostility, “you might consider sticking around and enjoying the entertainment if you don’t have more pressing matters.”
“Hmm…” she said, “I wish I could. But I do have more pressing matters. Namely, I have a comfortable chair by a quiet fireplace and the epilogue of a good book to finish.”
“Would this comfortable chair be the same one I gave you?”
Ruby blinked. She’d forgotten about that. “Yes. Yes, it would.”
She didn’t appreciate his smug expression as he said, “Then I don’t blame you. It wasn’t a cheap purchase, but I knew the moment I saw it that it was made for you. Not sure I’ve ever made a better purchase.”
She nodded at his current haul. “Keep this up, and the odds favor you eventually making one.” Something lurched in the bottom of one of the sacks, as if trying to escape.
He laughed. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Ruby. If you ever have a spare moment in your busy schedule, please come by the shop to say hello.”
She arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Now, Ezra, I’d be a fool to willingly expose myself to your charms.”
“And I’d be a fool not to keep trying to convince you.” One last wink, and he had disappeared through the crowd, no doubt returning to Ogleman’s booth to grab the cactus flower.
That was fine, she’d just avoid that area of the Emporium. She didn’t need any of Olgeman’s strange wares anyway. Her shopping list was much more mundane.
She glanced up at the ancient clock tower jutting out of the crowd clear across the Emporium. Eleven forty-five. “Siren’s song,” she cursed, shaking her head to clear it of the last encounter. Five minutes to gather everything she needed. She signaled to Clifford and they hurried toward the butcher shop.
Once she had her meat and potatoes and was waiting in line at Thaddeus Whirligig’s herb cart, another familiar voice said hello. She turned and was pleasantly surprised to see Liberty Freeman standing behind her in line. “Liberty! How are you?”
The genie grinned. He was a sight to behold with his golden skin and ivory smile. His muscles strained against the cream-colored linen of his shirt, and part of her wanted to tell him to just take the blasted thing off. He was the only genie she’d ever met, and she often wondered if all of them kept their biceps as bulky as an ogre’s waist, or if Liberty had simply won the physical lottery. Although, with the overwhelming strength of magic each genie possessed, why wouldn’t you give yourself every physical advantage possible?
All appearances aside, the genie was also the most personable member of the High Council and had clearly taken pains to learn the names of as many Eastwinders as possible. Above all his other qualities, she admired that aspect of him.
“Fantastic as usual, Ruby. Lovely day, isn’t it?”
She hadn’t noticed but nodded along anyway, keenly aware of how the genie’s contagious charisma made every day seem a little bit brighter and teeming with possibility.
“Are you staying for the show?” he asked. “I heard the talent is unrivaled in all the connecting realms. Apparently, this troop won quite a few awards in Avalon.”
Ruby didn’t hold much stock in what the pretentious metropolitan realm of Avalon considered quality, but she decided to be pleasant anyway. “Unfortunately, I need to get back and start my stew for tonight.”
It was a weak excuse, considering it wasn’t yet noon, but Liberty didn’t push. “That’s too bad. Maybe you can catch one of the other shows later this week.”
Just then, a rich and deep female voice blanketed the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen and all the rest, we humbly request the honor of your attention…”
The play had started. Ruby gritted her teeth, and Liberty straightened up to see above the heads of the crowd, which he no doubt succeeded at, being at least a foot taller (and a foot broader at the chest) than anyone else in town.
Ruby bounced impatiently on her toes, waiting for the pixie in line in front of her to rattle off her full list to Thaddeus. Finally, the druid had gathered all of her things and the pixie paid out and left, allowing Ruby to grab a few sprigs of rosemary and hurry toward home.
Clifford did her the favor of leading the way, as people were much more likely to step aside for a giant hellhound than for a petite Fifth Wind.
Not to say that she didn’t hold her own intimidation factor around town. Those who hadn’t put in the effort to get to know her avoided her like the plague. It was just one of the side effects of being able to speak to the dead.
She was nearly to the giant clock tower where the crowd thinned out considerably when she noticed another figure dressed much like herself: head to toe in black.
She waved to Ted, the town’s grim reaper, who waved back overenthusiastically.
“Not staying for the show?” he said.
“No,” she replied, drawing closer. “Afraid I have some, um, work to get to.”
He nodded gravely. “I get it. I’m here on work, too.”
Her eyes shot open. Ted only had one job, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end of it. “Oh, I see. In that case, I hope you won’t find it rude if I put as much distance between us as possible.”
He waved her off playfully. “Not rude at all. I’d hate to find out I’m here for you, anyway.”
“That’s very kind of you to say, Ted.”
Suddenly, the bells in the tower above her boomed into life, swinging into the familiar tune they played before chiming the hour. The sound of them cut off any hope of continuing the conversation, which was just fine wi
th her, and she jabbed the toe of her boot into Clifford’s rear to spur him on.
The two of them hurried out and away from the Emporium as the clock began its dozen deep gongs to mark noon.
The clock had long fallen silent again by the time she reached her porch, blocks away from the market.
And it was in that silence that a sudden strong gust of wind carried to her ears screams from the direction of the Emporium.
Either the play was as good as everyone made it out to be, or Ted’s work of clearing dead bodies was about to begin.
Chapter Three
Sheriff Gabby Bloom didn’t usually bemoan getting out of her office and spreading her wings (literally). But when the situation was one like this, where she was delivering some unfortunate news to a friend, she often wished she could have just sent Deputy Titterfield instead.
Of course she wouldn’t, though. For one, delivering the news herself was the right thing to do. It showed respect.
But mostly, she couldn’t let the deputy know that she was about to give a heads up to a prime suspect.
She climbed the few stairs up onto the blue wooden porch of Ruby True’s home, stomped her boots on the welcome mat a few times to rid them of their usual debris, and knocked. She made sure her fist made firm contact with the door four times. Four was an inherently angelic number and Bloom’s standard for announcing herself, but that wasn’t the only reason she made sure to count it out as she knocked on the Fifth Wind’s door. Heaven help her if she ever fell short and knocked three times. She’d once witnessed a delivery boy do just that and Ruby’s red hair just about spontaneously combusted as she chewed him out for announcing himself in the manner of demons and other dark entities.
“Oh, hello,” Ruby said, pulling open the door and staring through the threshold up at the sheriff. “I suppose I’m in trouble.”
“You don’t know that,” said Bloom.
“I do. Either I’m in trouble, or you’re in trouble and need my help, in which case I’m in trouble. Likely dire trouble at that.”
“Fine,” said Bloom. “You’re in trouble. Now will you let me come in or would you rather the whole neighborhood and soon enough the whole of Eastwind know that I’m paying a visit to you immediately following a suspicious death?”
To Bloom’s surprise, Ruby pursed her lips and seemed to consider it, staring up at empty space above the angel’s head. “Depends. So long as I’m not arrested for it, that degree of suspicion could get people to leave me alone more often.”
“I didn’t mean for it to be a difficult decision.”
“Oh, fine. Come in. I’m making dinner, and there’s plenty to share.”
Bloom stepped in past her. “Is that a bribe, Ms. True?”
“Absolutely.”
Ruby shut the door, and Bloom couldn’t help but smile as she entered the familiar, quaint space of the Fifth Wind’s home. What Ruby referred to as the parlor was hardly more than a round wooden table with four chairs in the center of a large room that hosted a reading corner by a fireplace (where the witch’s familiar was currently snoozing) and a kitchen complete with sink, stove, and cupboards. Bookshelves lined most of the walls, and a few small side tables holding strange objects Bloom didn’t bother asking about filled the remaining space.
Nowhere were there any pictures of loved ones. Bloom had never noticed that before, and as soon as she did, it made her ache for Ruby’s lonesome life. The only Fifth Wind in town, no husband or wife, no children, not even a small but close-knit group of friends…
But then Bloom remembered that she didn’t have any pictures in her home or office either. And she remembered that she was the only one of her kind in town, too. And thank goddess for it.
The savory scent of stewed beef only added to the cozy feel of the place, and as Ruby shuffled back over to the stove, Bloom followed her in the direction of the scent. When Ruby lifted the lid, Bloom leaned over her, inspecting the contents.
Ruby elbowed her to get some space. “You’ll get plenty, don’t worry. Now go sit down, you’re crowding me!”
Bloom grunted but agreed, and as she made her way over to the table, she did her best to resist the urge to crouch—the warding baubles and totems hanging from the ceiling weren’t quite low enough to risk hitting her head on them, but they were close.
Ruby banged a wooden spoon on the edge of the cast-iron pot after a good stir, and the sound caused Clifford’s head to shoot up. With his eyelids remaining at half-mast, his nose twitched frenetically. His gaze fell briefly on Bloom, who nodded respectfully at him. She thought he nodded back, but she couldn’t be sure. A moment later, his head was down on his paws again and his eyes were closed.
Ruby brought over two bowls, set one on the ground in front of Clifford, saying, “It’s hot, don’t scald your tongue!” and then served the other to Bloom before returning to portion out one for herself.
As she settled in, Ruby said, “I suppose you ought to tell me what’s going on. You said something about murder.”
Bloom couldn’t resist sampling the broth, and the small sip she managed scalded her tongue. She did her best to hide it as her eyes threatened to water, then she cleared her throat. “Suspicious death, not murder.”
“Anyone I know?”
Bloom searched her memory for a connection between the two, just like she’d done the moment she’d seen the victim’s shirt, but she couldn’t come up with one. And that boded well for Ruby. “Probably not. It was Bron Danann. An elf.”
Ruby crinkled her nose and tapped a finger to her lips. “Nope, I don’t believe I’ve heard of him. Or her?”
“It’s a him. And I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of him. He didn’t leave Tearnanock Estates if he could help it.”
A crease formed between Ruby’s brows. “Tearnanock? I haven’t heard of it. Is that in Eastwind?”
Bloom risked another sip, this time after blowing on the broth. She had to shut her eyes against the seductive taste. How had she ever carried on in Heaven without eating? Food had been vilified up there as a crutch for the weak and mortal. If that was truly the case, she was as weak and mortal as anyone. She dabbed her mouth with a cloth napkin from the table and said, “Yes, it’s in Eastwind. But there’s no reason you would be familiar with it. It’s guarded by security measures. And it’s invisible.”
“Invisible?”
“Silly, I know. But the elves prefer it.”
“I don’t think I understand. There’s an invisible part of Eastwind?”
Bloom chuckled. She enjoyed seeing Ruby caught unaware. Thanks to the psychic’s Insight, she was usually a step ahead of Bloom, not behind. “There’s more than one invisible part of Eastwind. I don’t bother with those regions, though. If you don’t want to be seen by anyone, including law enforcement, you forfeit your right to my protection. Of course, once they enter the visible realm, they’re under my watch.”
“So, Tearnanock Estates is invisible?”
“Right. It’s a neighborhood nestled above Erin Park.”
Ruby’s eyebrows were at risk of disappearing beneath her shock of red hair. “Above?”
“Yes. You know Green Gale Avenue?”
Ruby nodded.
“Along both sides of the street, there’s a second story, sort of like a platform that goes above it. All invisible. Mansions, green lawns, the works. That’s Tearnanock. All elves.”
“Too good for Erin Park?”
“They seem to think so. Granted, there are plenty of elves who live in Erin Park, but that’s either because they don’t approve of the segregation or because they simply can’t afford it.”
Ruby sipped her stew contemplatively, and Bloom took it as an opportunity to sample her first bite of beef.
The moment she bit down on it, she had to order herself not to moan.
After a moment of silence tainted only by the wet sounds of Clifford obsessively licking his bowl, Ruby said, “Is… is this a known fact?”
“Is what a know
n fact?”
“That Tearnanock exists.”
“Not generally, no. It’s more of a need-to-know basis. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share. So would the elves.”
Ruby nodded slowly. “I have so many questions.”
“So do I, but not about the invisible neighborhood. There’s a dead guy, remember?”
Ruby blinked, nodded promptly, and straightened her posture. “Correct. Go on. Tell me what happened.”
While Bloom would have rather used her mouth to eat than to talk, it was definitely best if they got down to business. “There’s a lot I still don’t understand about it, so I’ll do my best. Deputy Titterfield was called to the Emporium at about ten after twelve today, right after Bron’s body was discovered facedown on the cobblestones beneath the clock tower.”
Ruby cringed as she spooned a bite of the stew into her mouth, and Bloom was sure that had nothing to do with the taste. The Fifth Wind dabbed her mouth with a napkin, then said, “I presume it was best that he was facedown.”
“You presume correctly. Thankfully, no one turned him over to see the worst of the damage. At least not until Titterfield arrived.”
Morris Titterfield was a fine deputy. But he was getting up there in years and had become somewhat callous after the repeated exposure to violence and death. And sometimes he forgot that the general public wasn’t. “He flipped Bron over to check for vitals, but of course the elf had none.”
“The clock tower is tall.”
“Exactly. And I believe your line of thinking is correct. It seems that Bron jumped from the top of the tower.”
“Or,” Ruby suggested, “someone pushed him.”
The sheriff nodded. “And that’s why it’s a suspicious death. Titterfield spoke with a few of those in the area who were familiar with the deceased, and no one had any idea why Bron would jump. No signs of that sort of thing. He lived a happy life, by all accounts.”
