The Tynder Crown Chronicles, Season One: Episode One: The Tynder Crown Chronicles (The Tynder Crown Chronicles, A Novella Series Book 1)

by Wendy Owens

  “Tynder!” Piper exclaims. I drop the stack of paper flyers I’m holding and rush into the bedroom.

  “What’s wrong?” I gasp, fists raised into the air.

  “I think I found where the treasure was,” she answers, motioning toward a bench at the end of the bed. On top there is a dust imprint around where a perfect rectangle would have been. “A goblin would keep it close to him, even while he sleeps.”

  “This guy gets more pathetic the more I learn about him,” I moan, falling to my knees in front of the bench. Little bits of dust and trash litter the top of the bench, except for where we assume the treasure had been located. I move in closer to inspect the surface, shifting the trash around, careful not to disturb any possible evidence. As I do so, I can’t help but think of the way my grandfather was when he would work on a case. Was he thorough and meticulous? Did he have a way with clients? Would he be proud of me?

  Then I spot something, quite out of the ordinary—a sparkly substance across the bench top. I run my finger through it. “What’s this?”

  She leans in and answers, “Looks like pixie dust.”

  I laugh, then suddenly realize she’s serious. This is when my eye catches something even more amazing; using just my fingertips, I pick up the tiny item.

  “What’s that?” Piper asks, looking over my shoulder.

  “It looks like a little hat,” I say, turning and showing her my discovery.

  “Oh wow,” she breathes in sharply, her breath catching in her throat, as if I have just stated the most interesting thing she has ever heard.

  “I bet we can identify which house the wearer belongs to,” she adds.

  “What?”

  “You know, three houses of light and dark. A pixie or fairy would have to declare, same as everyone else. If we can identify the craftsman this hat came from, we can probably narrow the house.”

  “Then let’s do it,” I exclaim, the excitement coursing through me.

  “I need to put a few calls out to some of the houses,” she states.

  “Great, let’s go,” I say, shoving the evidence into my pocket.

  I PACE THE LENGTH OF the room. I forgot how boring Joe’s place could be; I mean, come on, who doesn’t have a television. I flop down on the couch with a big huff and begin tossing my keys up into the air and catching them. Piper is huddled over a stack of books at Desmond’s old desk. Despite my several loud sighs, she doesn’t seem to notice me.

  “Any word yet?” I ask at last.

  She pauses. “No, Tynder, there wasn’t any word ten minutes ago or the thirty before that, or even the hour before then. I’ll let you know when I hear something, all right?”

  “It’s been a couple days … shouldn’t we have heard something?”

  “It takes time, be patient.”

  “I don’t understand how long it could possibly take to show around a hat and figure out who made it?” I grumble.

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, there is a sparkle to the left of me that catches my eye. When I turn my head I can see Piper is standing as well. It’s that same shimmering pool I had been brought back through after visiting The Queen. Finally, some answers.

  The pale blue shimmering portal disappears. A man is standing in front of me—facing Piper—and all I can see is the back of him. His hair is dark and thick, his bottom is firm, and his jeans hug it in the most perfect of ways. His hands are in his pockets, and there is a confidence in the way he’s standing that makes me ache. Through his tri-blend T-shirt, I can make out the hard muscles of his shoulders and back.

  I glance past him and see Piper is staring at him, her mouth hanging open. She remains silent.

  “Can we help you?” I eventually break the quiet.

  He turns to face me when he hears my voice, and suddenly I understand why Piper looks the way she does. If there were a heat-seeking missile in the room, it would go straight for my nether regions. I don’t know who this stranger is, but I know I need his hands on me—those strong and broad hands caressing my curves in ways I’m certain will make me tremble. A man who looks as he does has to possess those skills; he just has to.

  “My name is Gideon Nash. I’m here to see Tynder Crown,” he states firmly, and I’m overjoyed that his deep voice matches his firm exterior. His dark eyes envelope me. As if an invisible force is pulling me closer to him, I approach.

  “I’m Tynder Crown,” I announce. I’ve never been so glad in my entire life to be me. My body begins to respond involuntarily to the proximity of him. My chest is heaving in and out, my brow begins to sweat, and my legs are shaking. I’m the type of woman who doesn’t shy away from an attractive man, but this is different. It takes everything in me to fight the urge to leap into his arms and begin passionately kissing him. He’s looking into my eyes as he licks those pouty lips. Is he thinking the same thing? A kiss to seal our meeting?

  Suddenly Piper appears, sliding directly in between us. “Hi, I’m her Crimlock, Piper Williams. Is there something we can help you with?”

  He nods his head and reaches out, and, taking hold of Piper’s extended hand, he shakes it. “Actually I need to talk to both of you. You were looking for some information about who might be the wearer of this item?” He reveals the small cap in his other hand.

  Piper reaches out and swipes it from his open palm. “How did you get that? I gave that to my friend Nathan.”

  Gideon smiles. “He says hi by the way. He couldn’t get away, but he knew I had business with Tynder here, so he asked me to relay the message.”

  “Any business with Tynder is business with me,” she quickly adds.

  “Actually, no, what I was sent here to discuss with Tynder is confidential.” He grins at her, and I can’t stop thinking about licking him.

  “Well, that’s too bad!” Piper exclaims.

  “Sorry, she can be a bit overprotective. So you know whose cap that is?” I ask, trying to move the conversation out of the vicious circle I see it heading in.

  “I was told you can find your pixie in the house of Elladur,” he explains, and suddenly I realize I’m staring at his lips again. Those beautiful and full lips. I wonder what they would feel like against my own.

  “A light Fae?” Piper remarks. “That doesn’t make sense … a light Fae wouldn’t steal; it’s against their alignment.”

  “Look,” Gideon sighs, “I don’t really know anything about what you’re looking for—all I know is Nathan said there’s a pixie named Ember Cornwand in the house of Elladur who you need to speak to, and he handed me that little cap to return.”

  Piper shakes her head, silently crossing the room to her desk, and jots down some notes.

  “Can we talk now?” Gideon asks softly.

  “Certainly.” I grin, trying my best to look provocative.

  He looks over his shoulder. “Alone?”

  I look around him; Piper is now sitting, rapidly flipping through pages of a book on her desk. I nod and lift a finger to my lips, motioning for him to follow me. As I walk past him, toward the living quarters, I can feel the heat pulsating from his body, and I allow my arm to brush against his. Looking down, I notice a tattoo of hash marks on his forearm. Sexy, I think, and mysterious. I like mysterious.

  He follows me; Piper is now too deep in her research to notice us. Once we are both in the living room, I attempt to shut the door as stealthily as possible. He follows me into the kitchen area.

  “We’re alone,” I remark, peering up at him. “Now what?” There is only a foot between us, and I can feel my core tightening with desire.

  “I come with a message,” he says at last.

  “Oh, sweet Gideon, I was out there, I heard your message, and we’ll take it from here, don’t worry.” After I hear the words, I realize what a condescending bitch I sound like. Mental note: stop being a bitch.

  “Call me Nash.” Dear God, could he be any sexier? “And I have another message, just for you.”

  I like the sound of this. “From who?” I
ask, closing the gap between us. I can tell by the way he moves, he’s feeling the same lust I am, though he seems more persistent in fighting the urge.

  “Josiah,” his lips say the word, and I feel an ache in my chest that makes my eyes water. The blow of his name is hard and swift. I stumble backward.

  “Who are you?” I demand.

  “I told you—”

  “No! You know what I mean. What are you? You look human, are you a Wizard?”

  He swallows hard and looks down at the ground. “No, I was Josiah’s Bimtok.”

  I shake my head. “Bimtok?”

  “Every Royal Magistrate is assigned one. We carry out the punishments that are handed down,” he explains.

  My mouth hangs open. “You’re an executioner?”

  “That’s one word for me,” he answers, but he doesn’t strike me as a killer. “Only when I carry out the sentencing does my Fae form appear.”

  “Josiah’s dead … you can’t have a message from him,” I state, still keeping my distance.

  Nash grabs my arms, pulling me closer, and forces me to look into his eyes. “He told me if anything ever happened to him, I needed to find you and give you a message. When I found out The Council was watching this goblin case so closely, I knew Josiah was right.”

  “They’re watching us?”

  “Terg lodged a formal complaint against you. He claims he handed you the guilty party on a silver platter, and you completely ignored him,” Nash continues.

  “That little toad!” I grumble, then realize Nash is still holding my arms.

  I pull away. “What message did Joe have for me?”

  “Beware Boru’s circle,” he replies.

  “Jesus, what the hell does that even mean?” I remember the flaming bird’s warning.

  “Just promise you’ll be careful. I thought Josiah was being paranoid, but now—if only I had done something…” Nash sighs, and I can see the guilt in his eyes. It’s clear he cared for Joe.

  I raise a hand to his cheek, cradling his strong jaw with my fingertips. The slightest bit of stubble grazes my palm. “It wasn’t your fault.” I don’t even know this man yet my words seem to bring him comfort.

  His dark eyes stare back at me; the flecks of mahogany look like they’re burning; they widen, and for a moment he looks like a wounded animal. Something about him is broken in a way I understand all the way to my core. My skin begins to tingle, the sensation running down my arm to my stomach. Our bodies are pressed against one another. I haven’t moved my hand, and we’re locked in a gaze.

  I can feel his hardened stomach , which only makes me ache more for his touch. And then I feel it, his arm wrap around me, his hand resting in the small of my back. As a reflex, it arches, and I press myself farther into him. He’s going to kiss me! Sweet holy hell, he’s going to give me a taste of those delicious lips.

  “What’s going on in here?” I hear Piper snap from the doorway. Nash breaks away and crosses the room swiftly and silently. He passes Piper and moves out into the office area. I hear the sound of the portal opening and closing.

  “Thanks a lot!” I snap.

  “What? I told him he couldn’t be alone with you. What did he want?”

  “God,” I huff, “just leave me alone.”

  “What did I say?” she squeals as I push past her and collapse, frustrated, onto the couch. Gideon Nash: I will have to make sure we meet again.

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND … WHAT’S THE big deal,” Piper pleads with me as we walk down the large, open hallway. “Why can’t you tell me what he wanted?”

  It’s been driving her mad that Nash and I had a conversation without her being present, and after her major cock-block, I was more than happy to let her squirm. “What room did she say to go in?” I ask, ignoring her request.

  “The red room at the end of the hall. She should already be in there, waiting on us,” Piper answers, and I can feel her eyes on me.

  I know there are three houses to every faction of Fae, but I never imagined an actual house where all family business is conducted. The Elladur estate is a massive English Tudor in the countryside of Connecticut. I dreaded the flight, but was pleasantly surprised when I discovered one of the many perks to having your own Witch: transportation spells. However, the damn trip has left me quite famished.

  We contacted the house representative, who, in turn, arranged the meeting with our pixie suspect. There was no arguing; simply stating I was a Royal Magistrate and I had some questions for their little Ember was more than enough for them. It all seems a bit too easy to me, and I’m waiting for it to come unraveled at any moment. Piper has assured me Fae are civilized, and I have nothing to worry about. I remind her that my grandfather ended up with a dagger in his chest. She doesn’t have much of a response to that.

  I enter the red room, which I see is appropriately named. The walls are the color of blood, the curtains a deep red-velvet sheen, and in stark contrast to that are the bright white carpeted floors and wooden table. At the far end of the table is a stack of books, and perched on top is a girl, only six inches in height. She is barely clothed, in little more than a bikini top and mini skirt. Her skin is pale, and the closer we get I see how sad she looks.

  “Hello there,” Piper says, crossing the room and offering a quick bow to the creature. “I’m Piper Williams, the Crim for Tynder Crown. She’s the Royal Magistrate investigating this case.”

  The tiny girl nods in response before adding in a small voice, “Hi, I’m Ember Cornwand.”

  “Where’s your house rep, Ember?” Piper asks, looking around the room.

  I move in next to Piper, quietly observing the interaction.

  The girl drops her head and responds, “I refused one.”

  “A representative is in your best interest, dear,” Piper reiterates.

  “I don’t think I need one,” she insists.

  “But—”

  “She said she doesn’t need one,” I interject before Piper convinces her otherwise. I know some government crony will just keep us from getting to the truth. I pull out the seat next to Ember and sit down.

  “You’re awfully small to be a thief.”

  “I’m no thief,” she protests firmly.

  “What I don’t understand is how a lil’ bit like you could have carried a chest full of rubies out of that room while Terg slept,” I continue.

  “Pixie dust is useful in many ways, including making an object much lighter than it actually is,” she replies.

  “So you do admit to stealing the chest?” Piper attempts to clarify.

  “No—that’s not what I said,” Ember argues.

  “So what are you saying?” I ask impatiently.

  “That goblin is the thief,” she explains. “I know I should have brought it before a Magistrate, but the two who work with our house are booked up for months. My mother couldn’t wait that long. I had to do something.”

  “Wait, slow down, what are you talking about?” I ask.

  “That treasure was never his. He stole it from us, and all I did was take it back. It was killing her. I had to! I don’t think it’s fair to even call that thieving since it was ours in the first place.”

  “What do you mean it was killing her?”

  “We’re Energy Pixies.” Ember says this as if I should understand what it means. I look to Piper.

  “They draw energy from natural resources of the world and then use that energy to nurture nature, you know … make stuff grow,” Piper explains.

  “So wait, if you don’t have these natural resources, you die?”

  “Exactly, and my family draws our energy from rubies. It has taken my family three generations to gather and cultivate that many rubies. There’s no way my mom can start over with nothing. She would have no energy to feed on to even mine the new rubies, let alone train the rubies. If I didn’t take them back, her light would have eventually extinguished. I should have killed that monster while I was at it.”

  “Well, it’s a
good thing you didn’t or this might be going very differently for you,” Piper says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

  “Do you have any proof?” I ask, never one to easily trust a story.

  Ember thinks about my question, then her eyes light up. “Actually, I think I do.”

  She goes on to explain exactly how their abilities are linked with nature—linked in a way that makes me confident we can actually put the correct criminal in front of The Council. Damn, I am definitely looking forward to putting that little goblin a-hole in his place.

  “Tynder Crown? Piper Williams?” As soon as the Heralds step through the door, I know who they are this time.

  “Can we help you?” Piper offers, standing up, but I remain silent. I have nothing to say to these douchebags.

  “You need to come with us,” one of them says, moving forward and reaching for my arm.

  I jerk away. “I don’t think so.”

  “By order of The Council, you are required to accompany us,” he repeats.

  “The Council can kiss my ass. I’m not going anywhere!” I’m shouting now.

  “Tynder, we have to,” Piper begs.

  “We’re in the middle of a questioning; is The Council aware you’re interfering with official Royal Magistrate business?” I attempt to pull out the power card, but it’s quickly evident it’s not going to work when one of them walks over and scoops up Ember into his hands.

  “We’ll bring her with us,” he remarks.

  “Oh, come on, boys, you can’t be serious. She hasn’t done anything,” I snarl.

  “We’ll let The Council decide that,” he says, wrapping a fist tighter around Ember. “Or maybe we just take care of her right now.” He squeezes her inside his massive hand, and I hear the oxygen being pushed from little Ember’s lungs.

  “Stop it!” I shout. “Fine, we’ll go with you.”

  The man loosens his grasp around her as another takes my arm. I glare back at the Herald holding Ember. “I’m going to remember you.” He only smiles in response. They lead us down the hall toward an open portal. All I know is they better have some damn food waiting for me on the other side.