by Wendy Owens
“Why would you think that?” I shift in my chair and watch the girl as she fidgets for a moment.
“A Crimlock is a human who shows a disposition for magic early in life. Once they show the skill, they’re taken to a training school where they will learn the ins and outs of the magical arts. Once done with the education portion, if they are showing enough promise, they can be put into Crimlock training. Sometimes a Wizard or Witch can be in Crimlock training for as many as five to ten years,” she explains. “Many are never even matched with a Magistrate.”
“I fail to see your point.”
“I wasn’t discovered until I was a teenager. I think the main reason I got into the Crim program was because they wanted a way to keep an eye on me.”
“Keep an eye on you?”
“I wasn’t raised in the School for Magical Arts … I had trouble ... following the rules.”
“Ah, a rule breaker, huh? Well, that isn’t always a bad thing. I’m a bit of a rule breaker myself,” I reassure her.
She shakes her head, glances around the room as if to ensure we are alone, and leans in. “No, you don’t get it. You’re the granddaughter of Josiah Crown. He changed everything in the Fae world. Fae were practically prisoners before him. If you stepped at all out of line, or The Queen didn’t like what you were doing, she would send a Magistrate and that would be the end of you. His heir should have received the most educated and well-trained Crim available.”
“I’m sure you’re just fine,” I smile.
“No!” she exclaims. “I’m not. No Crimlock has ever been assigned after only two years of training, and before you say it, I’m not a prodigy, I know that much.”
I lean back in my chair, pondering her words. “So what you’re saying is that The Queen or someone on The Council is trying to sabotage me?”
“I could never say anything like that, but I couldn’t argue with someone who might,” she answers me in true politician fashion. “I can’t figure out why they wouldn’t have re-assigned Desmond to you.”
“The Queen said he needed to be punished for failing to protect Joe. Bureaucratic bull if you ask me. Seems like the Fae world isn’t all that different than the human world.”
Piper clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “She has been known to be a pretty ruthless ruler.”
“I’d say—a freaking throne made out of bones, what the hell is up with that?”
“You saw the throne?” Piper seems shocked.
I grin, pleased to see I have the young girl on the edge of her seat. “More than that … I sat in it.”
“No way! I can’t believe The Queen would allow you to do that.”
“Please, that battle axe?”
“You should be careful; to speak against The Queen or The Council is considered treason, which is punishable by death,” Piper informs in a low tone.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, though I know I’m lying. “Look, I have to head home.”
“Oh, so you won’t be taking over your grandfather’s home? I can have his research material relocated.”
I pause; I hadn’t even thought about what would happen to this place. “I don’t know. For right now I have an apartment.”
“Well, great, I can’t wait to see our place,” she says, leaping to her feet in excitement. “So, do I have a second to clean up?”
“What?” I freeze and wait for an explanation. My tone shows my disapproval.
“Well, I wouldn’t want roaches.” She looks around with a disgusted expression. “At least not any more than there already are.”
“No … back up … ‘our place’?”
“Yeah, as your Crim, my job is to watch over you and not only assist you in any way I can, but protect you, as well. I go where you go. I sleep where you sleep.”
I sigh and shake my head. “Oh no, we’re definitely going to need to have some discussions about this. And, by the way, I seriously doubt you could protect me.”
“I see—well, I suppose I could tell The Queen you refused my services and throw myself at her mercy,” Piper says, her eyes widened.
I huff; I have the distinct impression I’m getting played. “Fine, come on, but this conversation isn’t over!” I declare, standing and sticking a finger in the air. She nods eagerly and rushes around the kitchen, tossing food into the trash and dishes in the sink.
“What is it about you Crims? Are you all neat freaks?” I grumble.
She doesn’t answer, focusing on finishing her work.
MY MIND IS SPINNING AS Piper explains all the new and unbelievable details of my life. I try my best to focus on her words instead of all the random faces of Fae strangers walking past us on the way to my apartment. I can feel their eyes on me. It wouldn't be so bad to have my world turned upside down like this if I could at least have some anonymity. Why do I have to be this Magistrate thing? A being all Fae can recognize. It’s like I’m this beacon in the world, and I have been switched on, calling all these freaks to find me.
Freaks. What am I? My hair turned white, I dream about big flaming birds. Jesus, who knows what else is messed up about me? How could Joe not tell me? How could he risk me finding out this way?
“So you’ve always been able to see them?” I ask, leading the way around the next block.
“See who?”
“These things … Fae?”
She smiles. “You’ll get used to them.” I don’t believe her.
“If you say so.”
“My first memory of seeing them was when I was about five. My aunt could see them as well, but when she was little they decided she was a nutter and put her in a hospital. That’s when I decided to keep my mouth shut, but it didn’t take long before I was seeing them all the time. I managed to keep my secret until high school. A were-boy was my first kiss, and I couldn’t stop myself; I had to know if I was crazy or if he really was different.”
“Wait, like, as in werewolf?”
“Kind of, but we see them in their transformed state all the time, while humans never can.”
“So, what happened?” I ask with bated breath.
“He told his parents that I could see him, and the next thing I knew the academy had convinced my parents I was gifted and I needed to go away to this special school. It wasn’t until I got there I found out it was the School for Magical Arts.”
“Did you ever see the boy again?”
“What?”
I shrug. “I’m curious.”
“I rarely go home, but yeah, I’ve seen him in passing.”
“Were you mad at him?” I can’t seem to get the betrayal out of my head.
“No, why would I be mad? I lived most of my childhood thinking I was insane like my aunt. Because of him I figured out what I was,” she explains.
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. If some kid would have ratted me out, I would have made sure he couldn’t speak again.”
Piper laughs. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“What did your parents think when you told them you were a Witch?” I ask.
Piper shakes her head. “They don’t know. They can never know. It’s forbidden to allow humans to know about our world. If I told them, it would only put them in danger.”
“Seriously? That’s just messed up.”
“Wow, Josiah never told you,” she points out, and I resist the urge to slug her.
“Exactly,” I huff. “Messed up.”
“Sorry … I shouldn’t—”
“It’s just up ahead,” I interrupt, motioning toward the brick building on the corner.
“You live in a bar?” Piper narrows her brow.
“No!” I exclaim. “I work in the bar, and I live in one of the apartments above it.”
“Seriously?” she asks, and I can’t tell if she thinks it’s cool or pathetic.
Defensively, I reply, “Yeah, is that a problem?”
She shakes her head. “No, I just never imagined a Magistrate would bother with a job.”
“Well, I
wasn’t a Magistrate until recently,” I snarl, sliding my key into the side door that leads up to the three apartments. “And why wouldn’t a Magistrate have a job?”
“Just that you’re all so—”
“So what?”
“Wealthy.”
I laugh wildly and wait for her to follow me inside before closing the door. I head for the staircase, still laughing. “Oh, honey, a lot of people have used a lot of words to describe me, and I can guarantee that wealthy has never been one of them.”
I climb the stairs, watching Piper as she continues, “Well, you are now. Magistrates are funded by The Queen. You tell her what you need, and she provides it.”
I freeze and turn to look at her. “Wait.” I place an arm against the wall in front of her so she can’t move forward. “Are you telling me if I told The Queen I needed a new car, she would simply give it to me?”
“Exactly, whatever is needed to do your job.”
“Oh, The Queen and I are going to have to have a little chat,” I snicker.
Piper shakes her head. “Oh no, you don’t want to do that. If you need anything, you contact Myers.”
“Who?” I continue up the stairs before pausing at my apartment door.
“Myers—he handles all the day-to-day details with the Magistrates so The Queen doesn’t have to be bothered.”
“Wow, she has it rough, doesn’t she?”
“You really shouldn’t talk that way about The Queen,” Piper warns.
“Lighten up, buttercup.”
“She has ears and eyes everywhere.”
I slide the key into my door and turn the knob before replying, “Well, not in my apartment, she—” My words hang in the air as I open the door to find a scene I had not expected to see … ever. The little creature who had visited me the day before is sitting on my couch, and based on the room, he has obviously made himself at home. I walk inside, staring at him, speechless.
“Oh God,” Piper gasps, bringing a hand up to her nose. I see her spy my visitor as well. “You live with a goblin?” she exclaims in disbelief.
“No! A what?”
“You’ll have to excuse this one,” the goblin huffs, only glancing up from the television for a moment. “Apparently she’s a newb.”
“Excuse me?” I realize I’m shouting, but I don’t care. Crossing the room hastily, I switch off the soap opera he’s engrossed in.
“Hey! I was watching that.”
I turn and face him, realizing he’s lying on my fold-out sofa without a shirt and my sheet pulled up to his waist.
“What are you doing in my bed?” I cover my mouth, afraid I might puke from looking at him or perhaps from his odor.
“Waiting for you! Have you found my treasure yet?”
“Get out of my bed!” I shout impatiently, scooping up the trash that litters the floor of my apartment. I’m not a tidy person, but this is a health hazard.
“What treasure?” Piper asks, pitching in and giving me a hand.
“I don’t advise me getting up,” the goblin answers with a devilish grin.
“Oh yeah, and why is that?” I ask, making sure it’s clear how annoyed I am.
“I’m not wearing anything under here,” he replies.
I drop the trash in my hands and shudder. “Okay, that’s it, I’m burning everything in this place.”
“Hello? Treasure?” Piper presses.
I’m ignoring her, as I think out loud about the logistics of what I’m planning to do. “I mean, seriously, if you’re right, and The Queen gives me whatever I need, then screw this rat hole of an apartment. I’ll just tell the landlord to throw everything on the curb and send me a bill. I mean, really—he’s a goblin, how can they expect me to live in this place after, oh God, I can’t even think about it.”
“Tynder!” Piper exclaims.
I shake my head. “What?”
“Try and focus,” she directs me, and I shrug. She looks back at the vile creature currently defiling my sheets. “My name is Piper, and I’m Tynder’s Crimlock. You say you have a complaint?”
“About time somebody knows what’s up around here,” he snaps, glaring at me.
“Watch it, maggot, before I burn that sofa with you still on it,” I warn.
“See what I’ve had to deal with.” He waves his stubby little arms in my direction.
“Tell me what’s going on … What’s your name?” Piper continues. While I admire her restraint, I’m also annoyed she isn’t tossing this parasite out on his tail.
“Terg Zurank, which she would have known had she done the proper thing and offered me a beverage,” he begins. I toss my arms into the air and walk into the kitchen area, careful to avoid the clumps of mysterious goo on the floor.
“I’m very sorry, but Tynder is new to the game, and she is still learning how things operate. I’m here now, so can you please explain the problem?” Piper attempts to coax the information from Terg.
“I’ve been robbed! That’s what the problem is, and that Magistrate doesn’t seem to give a damn!” Terg shouts.
“Well, you got that much right,” I interject.
“Please, you’re not helping,” Piper shushes me. I’m not sure how I feel about this. She turns back to Terg and continues her probing, “How do you know you were robbed?”
“Let’s see, doll, how does anyone know? One minute they’re filthy rich, and the next they’ve got nothing. My treasure is gone!”
“I’m so sorry.” I marvel at how she even sounds sincere when she says it.
“I know who took it,” he adds.
“So why not just go get it back? Idiot!” I snap.
“You think I’m stupid?” Terg flails his hands wildly. “I know what will happen if I do that. I’ll be the one rotting for breaking Fae rules in a dispute.”
“So tell me, who took your treasure?” Piper continues, ignoring the tension between Terg and myself.
“Walter Trunkwater,” he announces with satisfaction. Even I recognize the name.
“Wait, the billionaire?” I scoff.
“You say billionaire, I say thief,” he answers swiftly.
Piper moves closer to Terg, and I wonder how she tolerates the odor that close. “What makes you say that?”
“Really? Isn’t it obvious? He’s a treasure troll. He’s been after my stash since we were kids. In college, he pretended to be my friend, but all he really wanted to do was get close enough to swipe the gems my grandmother left me.” Somehow I have trouble imagining Terg with a grandmother.
“Okay, you did the right thing by coming to us. We’ll take care of it from here. Where can we reach you?” Piper asks.
“Oh no, I’m not going anywhere until I get my treasure back.”
“What?” I stiffen upright. “The hell you aren’t!”
Piper steps in between us as I lunge in his direction. She looks me in the eyes as she says, “Why don’t we go back to Josiah’s place until we figure this out?”
“What? This is my apartment,” I argue.
“Get what you need, and we can stay at Joe’s; plus, he has all the books and everything else we could possibly need to try and figure out what to do next.”
“I know exactly what to do next,” I growl through gritted teeth.
“Please,” she begs me with her eyes.
Looking around the apartment, it finally dawns on me. What can I possibly want in this place? It’s roach-infested, filthy, the hot water is hit or miss, the fridge doesn’t even work properly. Piper’s right. Terg can stay in this place as long as he wants. I’m leaving it, and I don’t plan to ever come back.
I say nothing, cross over to the only closet, and pull out a black duffle bag. It contains all of my important possessions—the only trinkets left from my parents. “Fine, let’s go.”
“What about your clothes?” Piper asks.
I nod in Terg’s direction. “He needs them more than me.”
He mumbles something under his breath as we walk out the d
oor, but I don’t care enough to react.
“You know, these are your clients. It’s your job to keep them happy, or you have to answer to The Council,” Piper informs, following me down the stairs and out the door.
“Let them ask their questions. Nobody tells me what to do or how to live.”
“The Council does. That’s what being a Magistrate is. Josiah made it that way.”
“Like I said, let them try. I do what I want. I’ll play their little game for now, but I’m here to figure out who in the hell killed Joe, and once I do, I’m out,” I answer boldly. I kind of feel like a badass saying the words.
“You need to be careful, Tynder. Neither The Council nor The Queen are to be trifled with.”
“We’ll see.” I smile.
Piper laughs apprehensively. “I have a feeling my life is never going to be the same now that I’ve met you.”
“God, I hope not. It sounded pretty lame before.” I turn and begin to walk in the same direction we just came from.
I GAZE UP AT THE massive building towering above us. The sunlight is beaming on the walls of glass, and I am questioning for about the hundredth time in recent days if I am going mad. The moment we’d hit Joe’s place yesterday, Piper was in full-speed research mode. I think she may have looked through every one of those old, leather-bound books on my grandfather’s shelves, reading about treasure trolls.
Tugging on the bottom of my form-fitting, black leather jacket, I double-check and make sure the girls are standing at attention. I’ve got street smarts, enough to know that a great rack can get a lot of questions answered, but does that still apply now? Are trolls or goblins even interested in a nice set?
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I say, my hand pulling away from the handle of the glass door.
“What are you talking about? We did all our homework, we’re ready for this,” Piper insists.
I sigh. “Ready for what? Don’t you see how crazy this is? This isn’t some thug we’re going to rough up and ask a bunch of questions. It’s Walter Trunkwater; they probably won’t even let us in to see him.”
Piper places a hand on my shoulder. “So use your charm.”
“The only charm I have is in my curves, and somehow I doubt a treasure troll is going to give a damn about those.”
