by Beth Lyons
I’d finally found her. Marilye Forlone stood in Aminanta, the heart of the Olden groves.
A gasp left my mouth. I hadn’t expected the spell to work. Why now, when it had failed so many times?
Although there is no way that Marilye could have heard my utterance, she turned her head and stared right at me.
“Vox?”
I yelped and jumped up almost knocking the mirror over. How could Marilye call me from the mirror? What magic was this?
Chapter 27 Little Birds
“Sorry to startle you, Vox.” Jesskah Morningstar stood in the door of my bedroom. “I came by to thank you for your help. You didn’t hear my knock?”
Jesskah Morningstar in my apartment, practically in my bedroom. That fact, coupled with seeing Marilye at Gurta Thar, I couldn’t think what to say, so I stood silent.
“I should go. You’re busy.” She waved at the mirror. “You weren’t kidding about scry.” Pause. “Even after what that old lady – what Wisdom had to say about it.” Jesskah looked into my eyes. “She must have hurt you very badly.” She waved her hand again. “Marilye.”
Anger welled up inside me. I’m not some jilted lover seeking revenge! How dare Jesskah presume to understand what I was doing and to interrupt me when I had finally achieved some success.
“You’re right,” I said. “You should go.” Turning my back on her, I adjusted the angle of the mirror and began to cover the glass for the night.
“What I meant to say,” Jesskah began, but I cut her off. “I thought that you, of all people, would understand what I’m doing.”
“Me ‘of all people’? What’s to understand? I see an elf who’s dug a hole so deep she can’t see anything else.”
I stepped toward her. “Doesn’t justice matter to you? Or maybe ‘paladin’ is a title you take on and off as it conveniences you?”
“Justice? Is that what you search for in that mirror? I think you’re looking for a reason why Marilye got away. You blame yourself, and you use that mirror as a crutch to soothe your conscience. Don’t bring me into your little make-believe.” Jesskah Morningstar stands half a head taller than me, and she looked down at me with fury in her eyes. “It’s been my experience that guilty people will always try to gain allies.” She spun on her heels and started toward my front door.
“Guilty people!?” I caught her at the door and put my back to it, barring her exit. “Me guilty? How?”
Jesskah crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t presume to—”
“But you have. You already have. Why stop now? Presume away.”
“Alright. You want to find Marilye because you blame yourself for her escape. That much is obvious, but you don’t know what to do if find her, so instead of being smart and learning the proper way to scry, for example, you just flail around. Part of you wants to fail, I think, so that you’re saved from a decision because you still have feelings for her.”
I left the door and walked toward the kitchen. I should have kept my mouth shut and just let her leave; I don’t need Jesskah Morningstar picking apart my motives. Motives. As if I’m the guilty one. “You don’t know anything,” I said over my shoulder.
“She was your lover. I know that.”
“She used me. Love didn’t enter into it.” I turned around. “Wait, how do you know that? Even? Did Even tell you about Marilye?”
“I might have asked, but—”
“Why did you kiss me last night?”
“Do you have feelings for her still?” Jesskah searched my eyes.
“Not the kind you mean,” I replied.
“Come with me, Vox. I want to show you something.”
“That’s not an answer to why you kissed me.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” Jesskah smiled at me. “Grab your coat. It’s chilly.”
Despite myself I did as she asked and followed. The streets were mostly empty – the majority of workers had gone home to their beds, having one more day in their work week, plus no festivals or holidays this time of year.
Jesskah said, “I didn’t mean to start a fight. I came by to thank you, Vox. When Farley saw Jana, he stopped complaining and demanded a lawyer. She’s no innocent, but with her testimony, we can be sure that Farley is punished for both Helena and Fara.”
“You didn’t have to come.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I woulda heard about it tomorrow.”
“You healed Jana. Cured her wounds, I hear.”
“I had to. We couldn’t let our key witness die.”
“Turn here.” Jesskah pointed down a side street not far from Boleian Investigations.
“What’s—”
“I discovered this place in my first week on beat patrol,” Jesskah came to a stop between two buildings.
Shadows filled the space, and in the dim light I could see a large shape ahead. “I don’t understand,” I said.
In a soft voice Jesskah said, “Follow me. Quietly.”
As we approached it, the large shape grew clearer. Over Jesskah’s shoulder I could make out branches and leaves silhouetted against the night sky.
She sat on a bench and patted the space beside her. Sitting down I faced a large tree with drooping branches. The tree stood alone in a courtyard surrounded by buildings.
Jesskah seemed to be waiting for something, so I sat silently for about a minute. When nothing happened I leaned toward her, but before I could speak she put her mouth to my ear and said, “Listen.”
A moment later I heard it. Birdsong. And as my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the courtyard, I saw them: songbirds. Dozens of small birds flitting from one branch to another, and every one of them singing.
The sound washed over me, filling my head. The sensation was akin to what I’d heard and felt right after healing Jana. The hum and pulse of the world, perhaps? Varana’s heartbeat. Is that what I was hearing?
Jesskah slid her hand into mine, and we sat cocooned in song.
Some time later Jesskah touched my face, and I turned to look at her. She said, “I’ve wanted to bring you here ever since Wisdom called us two little birds.” She traced a line from below my eye to my chin. “I like you, Vox. Do you think – would you like to try having dinner again sometime?”
I nodded, and finally managed to say, “Why here? Why’d you want to bring me here?”
“Thornbury’s a big, scary place sometimes. Filled with bad people. But that’s only one facet of her. She has little spots like this one.” Jesskah held up her free hand. “I thought if anyone could appreciate the juxtaposition of the beauty and brutality of Thornbury… well, I thought it’d be you.” She squeezed my hand. “This is my Thornbury, and—”
“You wanted me to see it.”
“No,” Jesskah shook her head. “I wanted her to see you.”
###
I walked Jesskah to her place, and then took the long way back to Jackton North. The dregs of night were beginning to give way to dawn. Beauty and brutality. I couldn’t argue with Jesskah’s assessment. I’d seen plenty of both in my two years in Thornbury.
The Grimwell case didn’t hold much beauty, only ugliness and heartache. The same for the life and death of Fara Fram. Unloved orphan to unclaimed corpse.
Still, we’d given them both justice. Cold comfort, certainly. I imagined Miles Edjrest in his chair, brooding beside the fire. What had he lost? Son and surrogate daughter, in one tragic act.
There were loose ends, to be sure. We could search for the cleric Farrell, but who knew if we’d find him? And Nori Hawktite, not guilty of murder but guilty all the same for his actions in complicating the investigation. Too concerned with his reputation to call for the police when he found Fara’s body in his house.
To say nothing of my own actions. I’d looked at the girl in gold, but I hadn’t seen her. At every turn I’d been quick to accept what others told me. Seeing a glamorous songstress instead of a badly made-up orphan girl. Hearing gossip but not digging underneath to check for supporting evidence.
Once again, a case had changed me. I thought that the Forlone murder case had tempered me, burned away my trusting nature, but once again fate proved me wrong. I hadn’t let the murderer escape this time, but that might have been sheer luck. It was sheer luck that Hawktite had Billows dump Fara’s body at the Morningstar’s house, and sheer luck that I was on the spot to help Jesskah from the very beginning.
That felt good; it felt right, working with Jesskah. Perhaps she could help me finally capture Marilye Forlone. Two little birds hunting a hawk.
Once more I dropped my keys on the dresser and stood in front of the ornate scrying mirror in my bedroom. I’d seen Marilye, so I knew I could find her again. We had unfinished business, but this time I wouldn’t face her alone.
Acknowledgements
The book you hold wouldn’t exist without the help of many people. First, ever first, my wife Debbie Cravey. Her boundless love keeps me afloat. She makes me a better writer and a better person every day. Second, Susan Lyons, the best editor a girl could ask for. Laser focus and keen intellect tempered with kindness and humor, that is my sister. Taryn Costello, the talent behind the cover art, and many book covers to come, I hope. My friend and fellow writer Andrew Seiple. Working with him inspires me to create bigger, better tales, to be a better writer and editor, to tell only the truest stories. And last but never least, Dame Agatha Christie. Perhaps she'll forgive me for lifting some of her ideas from The Body in the Library for my little story.
This book was written using Shaxpir writing software. Great thanks to Benji Smith for creating such a wonderful program. If you enjoyed The Girl in Gold, please leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Check out my other works – the first Vox Swift mystery Thornbury Confidential, and the fantasy novel The Soul Thief. My science fiction is published under E.A. Lyons.
