Fairy Rings and Dragon Kings (Book 7 in the Twilight Court Series)

by Amy Sumida

  The Extinguishers had arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  We made it to Anacortes safely. Councilman Spalder was waiting for us on the shore with a discreet, black, medical van—the extinguisher equivalent of an ambulance. The humans were “treated” for shock and taken home. Yes, their memories were adjusted to remove all the fairy bits, but not before they were interviewed.

  Unfortunately, the descriptions they gave us were vague. Most had been lured into a fairy ring by a tall, blond man, and then were “hypnotized” into obeying his commands. They remembered being taken onto a boat and then to the island, where they were placed into the room I had found them in. I asked them if the blond man who hypnotized them had been the fairy guard Killian had killed, but they weren't familiar with the guard and hadn't noticed him during our escape. I gave up, not wanting to traumatize them any more than necessary.

  The Extinguishers took control of Fawn Island. Most of the fairies had escaped by the time the extinguisher team reached it, but they were able to catch a few stragglers and were already interrogating them when I made it back to the island an hour or so later. Councilman Spalder had gone over ahead of me and had already searched the house. He handed me a file of information collected from the scant evidence the fairies left behind in their mad dash off the island.

  The fairies were indeed planning on selling the fairy-struck humans in an auction that was being held on the island. We didn't get the names of the buyers, but we had the time the auction was to be held. We also found the deed for the island, which had been purchased just weeks earlier. The owner was listed as Gordon Lightfoot. We had all rolled our eyes at that. Somehow, we didn't think the 70's singer had anything to do with this.

  The Extinguishers cleared the dock and made it look as presentable as possible, hoping that some of the buyers would show up before they could be warned away. We had about half an hour to go before the auction was supposed to be held. Until then, we were interrogating the apprehended seelie fairies for more information.

  I took the file and joined an interrogation.

  “Queen Seren,” a moomin man stammered when I strode into the bedroom they were using for his interview. “Please help me; I have committed no crime.”

  The extinguisher who'd been conducting the interrogation eased back in his seat and just observed as I took over. I took a chair across from the bed the moomin was perched on and stared hard at him.

  “The humans were taken from within a fairy ring,” the moomin hurried on. “We are within our rights to do with them as we please.”

  I leaned closer and stared harder.

  “We weren't even going to take them to Fairy!” He screeched. “We were selling them back to humans. We did no harm to them.”

  I cocked my head at him and narrowed my eyes.

  “Fairy-struck humans make the perfect slaves,” the moomin's voice sped up as he wrung his hands; they were bound in magic-dampening cuffs. “But we weren't taking them to Fairy. We were only profiting from the human tendency to abuse their fellow people.”

  “Who are 'we?'” I finally asked him.

  “What?” His eyes rounded.

  “When you say that 'we weren't taking them to Fairy,' who is the 'we' that you refer to? Yourself and—?”

  “Uh.” He looked around frantically. “It's a group of us. We work with the uh, less-desirable sort of human. The sort who might appreciate things we can do; offer protection, hide wealth for them, and offer them goods they would not otherwise have access to.”

  “Sounds like the damn mafia,” Killian said as he walked in. “A fairy mafia.” He chuckled.

  The moomin paled.

  “Holy fucking fairy mobsters!” Killian picked up the moomin by his shirtfront. “Is there a fairy mafia?”

  “Put him down, Killian,” I said softly.

  The moomin's eyes went gratefully to me as Killian put the moomin back on the bed.

  “You are a group of fairies,” I repeated the moomin's words. “Seelie fey?”

  “Yes,” the moomin whispered.

  “And does the Seelie King know of your organization?” I asked casually.

  Killian went still.

  “No, Your Majesty,” the moomin said. “We didn't want him interfering; everyone knows the traitor...”

  I lifted my brows.

  “er, I mean...” the moomin stammered, “His Majesty is less inclined to deal with humans.”

  “The moomin have been making mischief in the Human Realm,” I noted, ignoring the insult to Tiernan for the moment. “This was to distract the King from what you were actually doing here, wasn't it?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the moomin murmured as he deflated.

  “And how long have you been at this... endeavor? Mischief making for the Fairy Mob?” I asked.

  “A few months.” He shrugged. “I was recruited after I woke from hibernation.”

  I shared a look with the extinguisher. He nodded and wrote it down. That coincided to just a few weeks before the humans began to go missing.

  “And how big is this mob?” Killian asked.

  The moomin shrugged.

  “Who's in charge?” I asked him. “Who is using the alias Gordon Lightfoot?”

  “I don't know,” the moomin said.

  “Who recruited you?” The extinguisher asked.

  “We did nothing wrong,” the moomin whined. “Why are you holding us? Why did you hurt my friends?”

  “You said you were selling the fairy-struck humans to humans,” I reminded him. “The laws concerning fairy rings are very tricky. You can lure a human into a ring, and you can perform magic upon them within the ring. But once you leave the ring, you are again in human territory, and you are not allowed to cast magic that may endanger a human. If the fairy-stricken people had been taken straight to Fairy, you would have been within the law. But keeping them here, with the intent to sell them, and transfer their command to the humans who purchase them, is a criminal act.”

  “But I didn't do any magic on them!” He cried. “That was handled by the higher-ups. I just took care of them; fed them, gave them blankets—you know, nice stuff.”

  “You are an accomplice,” the extinguisher said grimly.

  “You hid your actions from your king,” I added. “So, I cannot help you as your queen; you are now the traitor. Then you came here and helped another fairy commit a crime on Earth, so I cannot help you as an ambassador. I'm afraid that you are in the hands of the extinguishers now, and the Councils will have to decide your fate.”

  The moomin began to cry.

  “But,” I said crisply, and he looked up at me with hope, “if you were to be more helpful, they might go easier on you.”

  “What do you want?” He asked. “Just say the word, and I'll do it.”

  “I want you to tell me everything you know about this operation,” I said. “Starting with the location of the other humans you took. There are approximately seventy people unaccounted for.”

  “I swear, I don't know where they are,” the moomin started to say.

  Then the sound of gunfire cut him off.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Extinguishers are trained to fight fairies. They use iron weapons, anti-fey charms, and their own psychic abilities. They are not accustomed to fighting humans, much less the criminal variety. They don't even carry guns.

  So, I knew the gunfire wasn't from our side.

  The buyers had arrived, and the extinguisher team had waited until they came ashore to apprehend them. But the buyers were armed with guns, which may not have been a big deal if the extinguishers had been prepared for it. But, as it was, they were taken by surprise.

  It was a good thing that the extinguishers wore kevlar or they might have had a few casualties. Instead, the first round of shots only stunned them. Then they recovered enough to use their psychic abilities to disable the guns and deflect bullets. The situation would have been handled smoothly at the point on.

  Excep
t the humans had one more surprise up their collective and figurative sleeve.

  The men started lobbing glass spheres at the extinguishers. This happened to start right as I made it out to the veranda. I was just in time to witness the first sphere crash at the feet of an extinguisher man. A pale blue mist wafted out of the broken glass, and the extinguisher's eyes went wide as he froze in place. Down the line, several other extinguishers experienced similar fates while the buyers used the chaos they had caused as cover to escape.

  I rushed after the humans, and one of them threw a sphere at me. I was expecting it, though, and cast out a cushion of air to catch the glass ball. It bounced harmlessly to the ground beside me. The man put on a burst of speed and caught up with his buddies at their boat. They were gone before I could throw my own magic at them.

  “My own magic,” I whispered as I watched the humans speed across the water. “Those humans have magic.”

  “Yeah, no shit, Serenlock,” Killian huffed as he picked up the glass orb I had saved.

  “Were you trying to combine my name with Sherlock?” I asked him dryly.

  “Yeah.”

  “That didn't work.”

  “Yeah, all right. But you got the joke; that's what matters.”

  “Come on,” I huffed and headed back to the rest of the extinguisher team. “And be careful with that ball.”

  “I know.” Killian rolled his eyes, tripped over a rock, and nearly dropped the glass sphere.

  I stopped and gave him a look. He handed me the ball.

  After regrouping with the others, Killian and I took the enchanted extinguishers back to the mainland for treatment. Councilman Spalder went with us, but the rest of the extinguisher team stayed on the island, to secure the site and the prisoners while they continued to investigate.

  “A magic bomb,” Spalder whispered as he stared at the orb in my hands. “This has just gone from bad to worse.”

  “How was it able to hurt extinguishers?” Killian glanced over his shoulder at me—he was driving the boat again. “I thought they wore anti-fey charms?”

  “Anti-fey charms only work against beag magic that every fairy has,” I murmured as I stared at the sparkling mist trapped inside the glass. “Extinguishers can't be fairy-struck, but they can be hit by a mór.”

  “If we had been immune to all the fey magics, we would have won the war,” Spalder pointed out dryly.

  “All right; so, onto the important questions: who made those things, and how did the humans get them?” Killian asked.

  “I think we can safely assume that this new fairy mafia, as you called them, provided the humans with these magic bombs,” I said with a scowl. “As far as who made them; I think that answer will lead us to the fairy in charge.”

  “The fairy Al Capone,” Killian said.

  “Magic mob bosses.” I sighed. “This really has gotten worse.”

  “What can we do with that thing?” Spalder pointed to the ball. “Can it be analyzed?”

  “Not by me.” I frowned thoughtfully. “But my father's company may be able to, and I still need to do some research on what types of fey magic could hide a person's scent.”

  “I want to be in on this, but I can't go myself; I'm needed in Oregon to watch over things,” Spalder said. “I have a talented sci-psych in Salem, though. I'd like to send him with you.”

  “That's fine,” I agreed. “Maybe you should send these men with me as well.” I waved a hand toward the paralyzed extinguishers. “Gentry Tech may be better suited to remove the magic.”

  “I think you're right,” Spalder said softly. Then he looked to the men. “I'm putting you in the Ambassador's hands, Extinguishers. I know she'll do right by you since she was once one of you.”

  “If I have to go back to Fairy and find a healer for you myself, I will,” I assured the men. “Don't worry; you're going to be fine.”

  The extinguisher directly beside me stared up into my face, but I don't think he saw or heard me. His eyes were wide, horrified, and fixated; like a deer in headlights. I didn't blame him; I'd be scared too. I lifted my face just as Killian glanced back, and we shared a concerned look. Neither of us knew what this magic was, and that meant I had just made a promise that I may not be able to keep.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  We flew to San Francisco on a Human Council jet. Halfway there, the extinguishers recovered all on their own. They thanked me for looking after them, even though it turned out to be unnecessary, and since they were already headed to SF with me, they called Councilman Spalder and asked if they could continue to assist. He was relieved to hear of their recovery, and happy to lend me the manpower. Plus, they could keep him updated for me, along with the sci-psych.

  The sci-psych councilman who Spalder had sent with us, immediately gave all of the extinguishers—five total—physical examinations including a detailed report on what the men had experienced when hit with the magic weapons. Sci-psychs are scientist councilmen with psychic abilities that include, but are not limited to, mediumship. Most of them work in the morgue because they can speak with the dead, but they all have an aptitude for both science and psychic abilities. This particular sci-psych was from the Teagan family and looked more surfer than scientist. Still, his blond hair and buff build had nothing to do with his capabilities, and he was asking some interesting questions.

  “You were aware the whole time?” Sci-Psych Lance Teagan asked Extinguisher Jack Teagan.

  Extinguishers, and most councilmembers were from the original five psychic families of Ireland who had defended humans against the Fey. Kavanaugh, Teagan, Sullivan, Murdock, and Sloane. That whole military thing, where they call each other by their last name, doesn't work out so well for us. We use it when addressing someone one on one. Like, I might refer to this man as Extinguisher Teagan, but in a group, we usually resort to first names.

  “I was,” Jack confirmed. “But I don't think I was experiencing what was truly happening around me.”

  “What did you see?” Lance asked.

  “I'd rather not talk about it,” Jack whispered.

  “Nor I,” Extinguisher Luke Kavanaugh agreed. “Let's just say that it was something I'm afraid of.”

  “Did all of you experience this?” I asked. “You saw your fears?”

  The five extinguishers nodded grimly.

  “Fear magic,” I whispered, “strong enough to paralyze.”

  “I don't know much about the workings of fairy magic,” Lance admitted grudgingly to me. “I'll be eager to consult with your father's employees on this.”

  “From what these men have said so far”—I nodded to the recovered extinguishers; we had two Sullivans, two Kavanaughs, and a Teagan—“it seems that it was a minor spell, something meant to dissipate quickly. Most magic has a lifespan, but there are certain enchantments, like fairy-struck, which cause a condition that will not wear off until the caster removes it. I'm not surprised that a magic that could be contained would have a short effect.”

  “Neither am I.” Lance agreed. “Magic, as you say, has life force. Energy is difficult to contain, and once it was removed from its source, it would probably begin to lose effectiveness.”

  “All we have are theories at this point.” I shrugged. “As far as I know, spells have never been contained in such forms. You can enchant objects, but to enclose a spell itself ...” I shook my head. “I have no clue how that would be done.”

  “I hate to say it, but I'm baffled as well.” Lance grimaced.

  “They probably had a couple of fairies do it,” Killian said offhandedly.

  “Why do you say that?” Lance immediately pinned Kill with his stare.

  “Well, it's a two-man job, isn't it? One guy would have to make the spell—and that's something he'd have to focus on completely—then another guy would have to capture the spell in glass. Could be a fairy with an illusion-based mór geared toward causing traumatic imagery.”

  “More?” Lance asked. “More what?”

  �
�Not more; mór: M O R,” I spelled it out. “A fairy's mór is their main magic. Most are passed down through blood, and it becomes a surname for us. My mór is the firethorns.”

  “Fascinating,” Lance murmured.

  “So, one fairy to cast an illusion and one to form the glass orb,” Lance mused. “Ambassador Killian, you're brilliant!”

  “I am?” Killian asked in shock. Then he recovered. “I am, aren't I?”

  “Shut up, Kill.” I rolled my eyes.

  “The illusion; what type of fairy would that be associated with?” Lance asked me.

  “I'm not even sure if it is illusion magic. If so, it could be either seelie or unseelie.” I worried at my lip. “But there were only seelie fey on that island, and I can't see the seelie working with the unseelie.”

  “Well, you have been teaching them to play nice, Ambassador,” Killian drawled.

  “If this is unseelie magic, we're back to square one. Anyone could be behind this,” I pointed out morosely.