by E.J. Stevens
My stomach roiled and I looked away. The dead faeries—peri, hamadryad, pixie, Fear Dearg, and the merry dancer—hung from the spit as it slowly rotated over the fire. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed hard. The redcaps giggled with glee each time the bodies snapped and popped above the fire, as if eagerly awaiting a Christmas roast.
I blinked away tears from the lingering smoke haze and scanned the room for additional threats. There, sitting on a striped satin fainting couch was Leanansídhe and her dead lover. The Faerie Mistress cradled the skeleton in her arms, relishing in his embrace. She lifted an athame, ritual dagger, in one hand and dragged it along the skeleton’s cheek, then leaned in for a kiss. The macabre tableau made my stomach twist and I felt my skin crawl.
Leanansídhe was most definitely unhinged. As Hob once explained to me, the very, very old fae tended to go through an unhealthy stage of boredom that was often followed by a period of “goin’ doolally.” Some fae manage to retrieve their sanity again over time, but most remained damaged. I thought Jinx put it best when I explained my earlier vision of the Faerie Mistress. Leanansídhe was fucknuts crazy.
With the powerful faerie and her pets surrounding the Yule log, there was no way that I could retrieve The Cailleach’s branch, remove the bodies from the roasting spit, pull the hamadryad’s tree from the fire, and put an end to the power fueling the necromancy spell. I needed more firepower.
It was time to call Jenna.
I crept back toward the entrance, holding my breath as I crab-walked back the way I came. I bit my lip, back muscles straining, as I inched forward, careful not to bump the table holding the gramophone. Making the music skip would definitely catch Leanansídhe’s attention.
My boots touched concrete and I let out a shaky breath. I’d made it to the laundry room. I risked a glance back to the cavernous room behind me to see the Faerie Mistress continuing to stroke the cheek of her skeleton lover. For now, at least, I was safe.
I scanned the laundry room for threats then inched to the basement stairs. Looking up through the tunnel of spider webs, the door to the hotel looked far away. But I couldn’t risk making the call here. I needed to escape the basement level where I might be overheard.
Pulling my coat tight around my neck, I put one foot on the step, then another. I was nearly at the door, my hand reaching for the handle, when a stair tread let out a loud squeak of protest. I lifted my foot and froze. Had I given myself away?
I held my breath and counted to twenty. Sticky webs tickled my nose and something skittered along my coat sleeve. An itch burned between my shoulder blades, but I didn’t turn around. When I was sure that there were no footsteps approaching from behind me, I crept up the last few stairs and pushed out into the hotel service corridor.
With trembling hands, I closed the metal door and leaned against it. Mab’s bones, that was close. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. I made a mental note of which stair had had the squeaky tread and pushed away from the wall.
It was time to call in reinforcements.
I punched in Jenna’s number from memory. The petite, young Hunter had helped me on a few cases since we’d met last summer. We weren’t exactly friends—she killed faeries for a living and I was a wisp half-breed—but I’d earned her respect that first night on the waterfront. I had been ready to die to save innocent humans from supernatural baddies and that was what all Hunters were sworn to do. I may not be fully human myself, but I fit with Jenna’s ideals. So far that worked for both of us.
“Got a case?” Jenna asked. Her breathless voice came down the line in bits and pieces between the rhythmic clang of metal on metal. She must have been in the sparring room at the Guild’s home base, where Hunters trained obsessively. “Just a sec.” The background noise ceased and Jenna let out a barking laugh. “Need help with another gnome infestation?”
I grimaced. Jenna had helped me net a small family of gnomes long enough to warn them that the empty lot where they lived was being turned into a shopping mall. My client had hired me to serve the eviction notice. It had sounded like a straightforward job, but the gnomes had cried and pleaded with me. It hadn’t been my finest moment.
“Not gnomes, redcaps,” I said, keeping my voice low. “And a faerie necromancer. I’m at the old Bishop Hotel on Forsythe. Leanansídhe and her redcap minions are down in the basement. I need to stop a blood magic spell that she’s casting, but so far they’ve only harmed other faeries…”
“So the Guild won’t help on this one,” she said.
The Hunters Guild only helped fight against faeries to protect humans. Since Leanansídhe hadn’t hurt any humans yet, their hands were tied. But Jenna wasn’t opposed to the occasional side job. She said it kept her skills sharp.
Personally, I didn’t think Jenna needed the practice, but I was always happy to have her help. I kept in shape and went through a series of self-defense moves each evening while Jinx made dinner, but I used speed and surprise to disarm and run away from my attackers. Hand to hand combat was no good when the brush of skin on skin could mean crippling visions. Jenna had offered to teach me how to handle a blade, but even the thought of holding a weapon made my stomach hurt.
“Right, the Guild isn’t an option,” I said. “Are you in?”
“Be there in five,” she said. “And Ivy? Don’t do anything foolish before I get there.”
I considered the basement full of bloodthirsty redcaps and their crazy, magic using faerie leader.
“That won’t be a problem,” I said. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”
Chapter 10
Five minutes seemed to take an eternity, but Jenna arrived on schedule. She may spend most of her time plotting to kill faeries, but Jenna was punctual. You had to give her that.
“We have approximately nine redcaps here,” Jenna said. She made a mark in the dust that covered the lobby floor. “And you last saw the faerie mage here.”
“Yes,” I said, nodding at the hasty diagram.
“Okay,” she said. “You go in first and I’ll bring up the rear. Get as close to the furnace as you can, without the redcaps seeing you. Once you’re in close, I’ll create a distraction. Run to the Yule log and retrieve the branch you need from the tree. After securing the branch, hit the emergency shutdown switch here. That should cut off the oil supply, but with wood to fuel the fire, the tree will probably continue to burn. Loop the rope around the tree and try to pull it from the furnace. I’ll come over and help once I incapacitate the enemy.”
Jenna made it sound easy, but I had a bad feeling that we were taking on something too big for just the two of us. I was tempted to call Kaye for magical support, but shook away the thought. The fight on the waterfront had weakened Kaye physically and diminished her power. I thought of the black lines snaking down my friend’s arms to encircle her wrists and hands. I sat up straight and clenched my fist. No, I wasn’t going to put Kaye in danger again. She may not survive another magic battle. Jenna and I would have to do this on our own.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“If you see anything hiding beneath a glamour that I don’t, text me,” she said. “I’ll have my phone on vibrate. If it looks like I’m about to walk into a glamoured trap, scream bloody murder. Otherwise, stick with the plan.”
Jenna didn’t have my gift of second sight, but Hunters don’t run blindly into battle. Jenna’s eyelids shone with a greasy substance she’d rubbed on when she got here. Faerie ointment didn’t work as well as second sight, but it did help humans see glamoured fae.
The scent of faerie ointment—clover, periwinkle, culver’s keys, forget-me-nots, primrose, and thyme—reminded me of Jinx. Kaye had whipped up a batch when our clientele had changed. Being able to tell if the person walking through your office door was a creature that may want to eat you tended to be helpful, though Jinx applied hers with a makeup brush. Jenna looked like she was suffering from a bad case of conjunctivitis.
I felt a pang of guilt when I thought about my roommate. I hadn
’t called Jinx to tell her that I’d found Leanansídhe’s lair. My friend would have rushed here in an effort to keep me safe. Jinx was tough, but she wasn’t a Hunter. It was better that she was safe back at the loft. Now we just had to stop the bad guys and keep her that way.
“Okay, ready when you are,” I said.
I brushed dust from my knees and led Jenna down the service corridor. Having a sudden idea, I stopped at the open supply closet and poked my head inside. There on the bottom shelf was a first aid kit and a fire extinguisher. I moved the first aid kit, and a stack of towels, out into the hallway where we might need them later. The fire extinguisher I lifted up to show Jenna and grinned.
“What do you think?” I asked. “If I douse the wood after hitting the manual shut off for the furnace, this should put the fire out. We may not have to pull the Yule log out of the furnace.”
I’d been worrying about that detail. I wanted to zip in and out, foiling the Faerie Mistress’ plans by ruining her spell. If I didn’t have to waste time dragging an entire tree from a furnace, I’d have a chance to save the remains of the faeries who had died at the hands of Leanansídhe and her redcap cronies.
“Check the last charge date,” she said.
I turned the extinguisher over and, miraculously, it hadn’t expired. The propellant and fire retardant were good for another month.
“Looks good,” I said.
“Then bring it,” she said. “If it gets too unwieldy, leave it and keep moving. Stealth will be the most important thing. You need to get close to the furnace before I begin my diversion.”
I nodded, patting the fire extinguisher and tucking it under my arm. I went to the metal basement door and peeked through the tiny window pane to the stairs below. I didn’t shine my flashlight this time. It was dark, but I couldn’t detect any movement on the stairs.
I pulled the door open and began my descent, careful to avoid the squeaky step. Jenna followed my lead and I turned my attention back to the shadowy basement below. Once we’d cleared the stairs, I crouched low and crab-walked through the laundry room. I passed the looming steamer press with Jenna at my back. So far, so good.
My boots hit dirt and I peered around the corner into the cavernous room beyond. I bit my lip and scanned the room for faeries. Leanansídhe was dancing with her skeleton in the center of the dirt floor. But where were the redcaps?
I jumped at the loud squeal of rusting hinges as the door of every washer and dryer snapped opened behind us. Teeth and daggers gleamed red in the faint firelight as redcaps emerged from where they’d been hiding inside the bellies of the machines. Oh Oberon’s eyes, we had walked into a redcap ambush.
I froze, watching redcaps pour out of the machines like spiders in a rainstorm. For creatures with short, stubby legs, they sure could move fast.
Jenna spun on her heel to face our ambushers and shouted, “Ivy, go!”
I launched out of my crouch, stealth no longer an option, and ran toward the burning Yule log. We had abandoned our original plan, forced by the attack to improvise, but my goal remained the same. I had to shut down the furnace and stop the tree from burning.
With no redcaps in my path, I sprinted past the gramophone and over an ornate fainting couch. The sounds of battle raged behind me, but I couldn’t risk looking over my shoulder. I had to stick with my goal. But redcaps were nasty little creatures and I hoped that Jenna would be able to fight them off long enough for me to disrupt Leanansídhe’s spell.
I smiled as I heard the thwap, thwap of Jenna’s crossbow, followed by a ragged scream. The Hunter had hit one of the redcaps with an iron bolt. That was one bloodthirsty faerie who wouldn’t be continuing this fight. One redcap down, seven more to go.
The furnace grew larger as I made my way across the room and my chest lightened. Calling Jenna had been the right decision. The clang of her sword rang out and another redcap wailed. We were going to shut this spell down and save the day. No more innocent faeries were going to die. Not in my city.
I grinned, showing my teeth, and increased my speed. My thighs were burning, but I was nearly there. All those morning runs along the waterfront were finally paying off.
A low muttering echoed against the walls off to my right and my grin faltered. Leanansídhe had lowered her skeleton dance partner to the ground and her lips moved rapidly as she recited an incantation. Crap, that was never a good sign.
I turned to see if help was on the way, but Jenna had her hands full with the redcaps.
Their bloodlust had reached a frenzied pitch at the bloodletting of their comrades. The redcaps were climbing over the bodies of their fallen to encircle Jenna. Mab’s bloody bones.
I was on my own.
I veered to the right, toward Leanansídhe. I couldn’t outrun a spell, but maybe I could toss a monkey wrench into the works. And when you don’t have a monkey wrench, a fire extinguisher will do.
I hooked the gloved fingers of my left hand under the spray nozzle and slapped my right hand on the back of the red metal tank. Swinging the fire extinguisher in an arc, I used my momentum to smash the Faerie Mistress in the head—and kept on running.
A jolt of pain ran up my arms, but I retained my grip on the metal canister. I still needed the fire extinguisher if I hoped to put out the flames that continued to eat away at the Yule log. Plus, I might need it again for more head bashing.
I risked a glance over my shoulder as I continued my run for the furnace. Leanansídhe was still standing, but she had stopped mouthing the words of her spell. Knowing it wouldn’t last long, I used the brief reprieve to bolt forward and hit the emergency power shutoff button on the side of the furnace.
I wiped tearing eyes with the backs of my gloves and headed into the thick smoke surrounding the Yule log. Pulling my scarf around my nose and mouth, I peered through the haze looking for a branch for The Cailleach.
A scream rang out from behind me, but I focused on what was left of the hamadryad’s tree. There, toward the end of the burning log, one branch remained. The tips of the winter-dry branch were beginning to curl in the heat, but it was whole. I breathed a sigh of relief. Surviving this only to be struck down by the Winter Hag would suck, big time.
Leanansídhe’s guttural muttering began again and I hurried forward. I brushed sparks from my coat and reached over the blackened tree trunk to grab the branch. I gripped the base of the branch with both gloved hands, but flames roared as the Faerie Mistress pulled power from the burning Yule log to fuel her spell.
No! I fell backward, blinking my eyes against the flames that shot three feet into the air. The hamadryad’s tree was burning faster and the remaining branch had caught fire. I had to douse the flames. The burning Yule log and the blood sacrifices hanging above were lending power to Leanansídhe’s magic.
The branch would have to wait.
I raised the fire extinguisher and aimed it at the center of the blaze. Once the flames within the furnace began to dim, I swung the extinguisher back toward the burning branch before resuming my attempt to extinguish the flames.
I sensed movement, grabbed a handful of iron shavings from my pocket and flung them at the ground behind me. If it was Jenna the iron wouldn’t do her any harm, but the iron would burn any pureblood fae. Judging by the screams, it hadn’t been my human friend.
I continued to aim the fire extinguisher at the furnace until, with a final puff and fizzle, the device ran dry. I couldn’t see through the cloud of smoke, foam, and white powder, but I heard a growl to my left.
I ducked and rolled beneath the Yule log, where it protruded from the furnace, holding the fire extinguisher to my chest. The growling followed me beneath the tree and I sprung to my feet the moment I’d cleared it, and swung the metal canister at knee height—right at head level, for a redcap. I nearly took the redcap’s head off as he ran at the oncoming battering ram.
The redcap’s eyes rolled up into his skull as he fell over backward. I lifted the fire extinguisher onto my shoulder and reached i
nside my coat. I withdrew a packet of powdered mandrake root and sprinkled it over the burning tree and onto the floor below. It wouldn’t stop the full force of Leanansídhe’s spells, but any protection against black magic was welcome at this point.
I kicked the redcap, making sure he was out cold, and surveyed the battle. The room had filled with smoke, making it difficult to pick out friend or foe. But I couldn’t feel the electric tingle that often accompanied powerful magic.
I moved back toward where I’d last seen the burning branch, crossing my fingers. If I didn’t have a branch for The Cailleach, I’d be up an each uisge filled creek.
I squinted through the smoke and brushed away the thick layer of foam and white powder that coated the tree, trunk and branch. Had the remaining branch burned? It was time to find out. I set the fire extinguisher on the ground at my feet and reached forward with shaking hands.
My gloved hands found the slender wood sprouting from the log and brushed away the last of the powder. Brown and gray bark emerged—the branch was intact. I snapped the branch from the tree, wrapped it in my scarf, and tucked it into my belt. The branch created a large bulge beneath my coat, but I wasn’t going to leave it here. I patted the bundle and smiled.
I could live to fight another day.
The Cailleach may let me live, but I was sure the redcaps and their mistress had other ideas—if they were still alive. Boots crunched on iron shavings and I grabbed two stakes from my belt. They may not work as well on fae as they would with vamps, but I could certainly slow down a redcap if I jammed a stake in its eye.
I strained my hearing and held my breath. I blinked away tears, but couldn’t see anything through the heavy smoke. The steps continued toward me, sounding light and graceful. I lifted my arm higher and adjusted my grip on the stake. That didn’t sound like an approaching redcap.
I counted—one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand—and swung my right arm, ready to follow up with my left. A hand lashed out and grabbed my wrist in its iron grip and I tensed, sucking air through my teeth. Receiving a vision from Leanansídhe could fry my brain. I remembered Kaye reciting the immortal Faerie Mistress’ long line of pet artists. Leanansídhe had left thousands of corpses in her wake. I bit the inside of my cheek, tamping down my panic. If given the choice, I’d rather face her magic.
