In Search of Justice

by Katie Holmburg

  “Nothing else?”

  “Even though my last name is Sheridan, I can find no trace of a truthseeker in my heritage.” She was confused about his sudden interest in the subject.

  He said thoughtfully, “Even if there were a Sheridan in your lineage, it wouldn’t make much difference. This gift doesn’t follow bloodlines, but occurs without rhyme or reason.

  Seeing that this hadn’t explained it to her, he continued, “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m asking you about this.”

  She nodded carefully.

  “The fact of the matter is, Agent Bosk believes that you are indeed a Sheridan and I agree with him. All of the indicators are there, Agent Sheridan.”

  She gaped at him and protested, “I don’t have any potential. I tested as null!”

  “Like I said, this gift occurs without rhyme or reason. There are several documented cases of it occurring in people who previously registered as null. But I would like to be certain, if that’s all right with you. I actually happen to have a testing stone, if you would be willing.”

  In a state of shock, she held out her hand. He pulled the stone from a drawer and handed it to her. It was the size of a silver dollar and surprisingly warm to the touch. She expected it to lie there inert while the two men had a chuckle at her expense.

  She was so startled when it began to emit a warm golden glow that she nearly dropped it. Forcing her hand to remain steady, she watched as the glow grew brighter until the room was flooded with golden light. After a minute of the glow staying at the same level of brightness, she handed back the stone and drew in a shaky breath. She forced out, “Gold indicates?”

  Jones looked satisfied and Lirim was nodding as if this confirmed everything that he was thinking. Jones answered her, “Gold means Sheridan and the brightness is the strength of your gift. From the amount of brilliance, I’d say that you are quite possibly the strongest Sheridan of this generation.”

  She tried to gain her bearings, feeling like the rug had been swept out from under her feet. Cowardice had never been one of her vices, so she confronted the question that frightened her the most. “Does this mean that I have to leave HSI?” She was pleased with how steady her voice sounded.

  Both men looked startled by the question. Captain Jones shook his head. “Only if you want to.”

  She shook her head, unable to force words past the relief that threatened to swamp her. She wouldn’t have to leave the department.

  “However, if you are to stay with the department, there are several things that will need to be done. First off, Sheridans are highly sought after, by both good and evil people. If you want to continue your work unhindered, I strongly advise that you register for now as a low-level Veritas, almost on the mere potential end of the scale.”

  She nodded, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly as she realized that the captain was willing to help her through this situation. “What else?”

  “You’ll need to get your powers under control. If they continue to grow and mature, something bad could happen unless you have absolute control of them. Agent Bosk has an aunt that is a Sheridan. She also happens to be the nearest one available, so tomorrow you are going to go see her, no arguments. The sooner you get started, the better.”

  She saw Lirim start to protest, before sighing and acquiescing to the captain. She spoke up, “What about the case?”

  “There are other agents who can manage it for one day. This is non-negotiable.”

  “What else do I need to do?”

  “Tell absolutely no one what you are, not even your family. Everyone is safer the less they know. For now, only you, Agent Bosk, and I will know about this. And don’t discuss this with either one of us unless you’re sure that there’s a strong shield up. Those are the main details; we can work out the rest later.”

  He eyed her critically and softened, “Go home, get some rest. I know that this is a lot to process. Besides, it sounds like you’ve had quite the eventful day already.”

  She climbed to her feet, feeling numb, unable to fully process all that had happened to her today. Exhaustion was swamping her and she suddenly felt a desperate need to be alone so she could think. Biding the two men goodnight, she pulled herself together so as to not give away anything to the others in the office. Gathering her things, she remembered the candy bar and snagged it from the drawer. She had a lot to think about and chocolate always made things better.

  Five

  Aletta sipped her coffee while she waited on the sidewalk in front of her apartment complex. Lirim had said that he’d be there by eight, and she had to somehow be awake enough for whatever was going to happen today. She grunted and slumped slightly. She was running on dead empty today after maybe three hours of sleep. Upon reaching home the night before, she’d been numb for the first hour, moving through her familiar routine on autopilot. Slowly, reality had trickled in and she’d been forced to acknowledge what had happened.

  She was a Sheridan and not only that, but apparently a powerful one. It wasn’t that she was adverse to having magic, but to openly acknowledge it would forever alter her life. So to keep things normal, she could tell no one, not even her family. That would be hard, as she was very close with her family. She usually spoke with one of her family members at least once a day and tried to see them once a week. Thankfully, she still had the books from when she’d done a report on Sheridans in high school, so she could do some research without arousing suspicion.

  Next had come resentment and fear. It wasn’t fair that Lirim had managed to upset her world when she’d only known him for two days. If he hadn’t had a Sheridan for an aunt, he probably would’ve never noticed the signs and she could’ve kept living in blissful ignorance. She’d paced agitatedly, unable to voice the thoughts whirling disjointedly through her head. Finally, she forced herself to run through worst-case scenarios. This had left her exhausted and she finally collapsed into bed at some ungodly early hour of the morning. Her sleep had been disjointed and fraught with nightmares.

  Finally giving up sometime between five and six, she’d shuffled to the bathroom and had scowled at her reflection in the mirror. She’d looked horrible, her normally fair skin was pale and pasty and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her curly hair hung limply, looking tangled and greasy. After staring for a moment, she’d suddenly shook her head. This wasn’t like her at all, she was a naturally optimistic person. Allowing herself to get drawn into a quagmire of fear and doubt wouldn’t do her a bit of good. She’d managed to muster up a tired smile. She could do this. She’d never met an obstacle that she hadn’t managed to overcome and she didn’t plan on this being the first. She’d pushed aside her worries and concentrating on fixing her appearance instead.

  So here she was, trying to consume as much caffeine as humanly possible before Lirim showed up and she had to be civil. She idly wondered what she’d learn today, her thoughts much lighter than those of the day before. She didn’t have long to wait before he pulled up to the curb and motioned for her to get in. She climbed in and carefully placed her messenger bag at her feet. “Good morning.”

  He merely nodded, seeming very tense. She sighed, knowing she had to clear the air. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday. You were just trying to watch out for me and I took your head off. While I still think that you could’ve approached it better, I appreciate the thought behind it.”

  They stopped at a red light and he glanced at her, startled. “What? No, you don’t have to apologize for that. Yesterday was an odd day. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “That’s for ever sure. I’m starting to rethink this partner thing. We’ve only been partners for two... um three... days now and it’s been a crazy few days.” She grinned slightly so that he would know that she was teasing him.

  He chuckled and relaxed a little. “I don’t know; I thought that this assignment would be a walk in the park. Shouldn’t you have to be with the department for at least a year before you start wreak
ing havoc?”

  She smiled ruefully as the light turned green. “I would blame you, but trouble found me before we were partners, so I guess that’s out.” She quickly sobered and asked quietly, “But seriously, are you okay? You seem tense today.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Did I mess up?”

  He shook his head slightly, his hands clutching the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. “It has nothing to do with you. It’s personal.” He sighed, and she watched him consciously relax his hands. “Don’t think that I missed those dark circles under your eyes. Nightmares?”

  Respecting his unspoken plea for privacy, she decided to humor his clumsy change of subject. She hesitated for a moment, debating their honesty policy against adding to whatever was burdening him. In the end, she decided that it wouldn’t hurt their partnership if she wasn’t forthcoming about her restless night. “No, although I probably should be having nightmares, between the dead bodies and the attacks. I was doing research. Is this car secure?”

  “I inscribed the runes myself. You didn’t draw attention to yourself, did you?”

  She mock scowled at him. “Puh-leaze, I wasn’t born yesterday. These were books from when I did my high school paper on Sheridans. I went over them with a fine tooth comb this time instead of the broad brush that I used when I did my paper.”

  She checked to make sure that he was paying attention, and he nodded.

  “There are four main types of Sheridans. First, Populus Sheridan. These are the ones who can track people. Whether they’re finding criminals, missing people, or uncovering the truth, anything involving people is their strength.

  “Second, Obiecta Sheridan. These are the ones that deal with objects, either locating or understanding the purpose of said object. This gift can deal with either living or non-living things. For example, they could find a missing pet or a rare statue made of gemstones.”

  “A statue made of gemstones?”

  She shrugged, “The book didn’t spell out exactly what they’re capable of, so I filled in the blanks. Basically, anything that isn’t a person they can track.”

  “Ah, continue. Sorry for interrupting.”

  She grumbled under her breath, “No, you’re not.” She saw him smirk slightly and mentally cursed his Fae hearing.

  “Third, Viam Sheridan. These are the pathfinders, the way-makers. They are the most closely connected to the earth; they travel its surface, searching for the hidden ways. Also, they’re really handy when you’re trapped and need to find a way out.

  “Finally, Omnes Sheridan. They hold characteristics of all the other types of Sheridans, but tend to specialize in one more strongly than the others. However, when push comes to shove, they are capable of all three types of tracking.”

  Lirim made a turn, heading for the freeway. “What type do you think you are?”

  “Best guess? Obiecta. I tend to focus on objects more than people.”

  He mulled it over for a minute, weaving expertly through traffic. “I think that you’re Omnes.”

  “But they’re super rare. Only about two percent of all Sheridans are Omnes.”

  “What about that pup you found?”

  This stumped her and she floundered for a comeback. “Um, a fluke?”

  He snorted in amusement. “If you say so. What else can Sheridans do?”

  “Well, their main talent is seeking. However, the books did mention that Sheridans have a secondary talent. This talent is different for every seeker and is based on their personality rather than their Sheridan type. For example, a Populus might have a secondary talent of rune scribing because they love books and grew up around them. Or a Viam might have the talent of gardening. It can be really varied.

  “That’s pretty much what I was able to glean. Maybe there’s more in the department archives. When we finish with this case, maybe I can take some time to take a look.”

  He hummed thoughtfully, obviously processing all that she had just told him. She looked out the window and was surprised to see that they were heading out of the city. “Where are we going?”

  “About an hour away. Have you heard anything back from Ian about the CD?”

  His face was shuttered. This was obviously the source of his tension, so she decided to tread lightly for the moment. “Well, Ian managed to decrypt it, but it was written in some sort of code, so he sent it to Cass to decipher. We should hear back today or tomorrow; she’s amazing at what she does.”

  “What did Ian have to say about the CD when you gave it to him?”

  She snorted. “I didn’t; Cy did. He took it after giving me a thorough dressing down for tampering with a crime scene.”

  Lirim chuckled. “Why didn’t you tell him that we’d already cleared it with the crime scene techs before we left the scene?”

  She sighed, “I forgot about that because of our argument. My mind was too mad to come up with a logical line of reasoning.”

  “There is that. Let’s recap what we know about the case so far.”

  They talked casually about the case for several minutes, but neither one had anything new to add. Having exhausted that subject, silence descended on the car. Aletta watched the scenery for several minutes before she was thoroughly bored. The caffeine had finally kicked in and lack of sleep plus caffeine always made her chatty. Mentally fishing around for a safe subject, she suddenly remembered something. “So, Lirim, what sort of Fae are you?”

  This seemed to jerk him out of his thoughts and he exclaimed, “Huh!?”

  “What sort of Fae are you? I can’t seem to figure it out.”

  He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Why do you want to know?”

  “You’re my partner; why wouldn’t I want to know?”

  This seemed to both surprise and please him. “Why should I tell you?”

  “Is it taboo? I’m just curious, I don’t mean any offense.”

  He glanced at her and she saw mischievous amusement lurking in his eyes. “It’s not taboo, but I’m not gonna tell you. You’re going to have to figure it out on your own.”

  She said dryly, “At the office, they say that you are a cold, heartless Fae that only cares about catching the criminals. Little do they know that you’re a bossy mischief maker and a serious fry snob.

  He winked at her. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  Suddenly, a random line floated across her mind. I am that merry wanderer of the night. That line and the impish twinkle in his eye were tugging at her subconscious. It suddenly came to her and she blurted out, “You’re a Puck!”

  He groaned. “I hate Shakespeare; I absolutely loathe him! I don’t know what sort of mushrooms he was eating when he thought that it was funny to portray us like that. Also, I wish I could get my hands on whatever idiot of us decided that it was a good idea to talk to him in the first place. Puck, bleh! I loathe that name, we all do.”

  “Oh.” She scrambled, trying to remember what the correct name was. “I’m sorry, a Sprite. Are you a Sprite?”

  She waited, curious as to what his answer would be or if he would be offended.

  * . * . *

  He hedged, “Technically, that’s correct. But that’s not what we call ourselves.”

  “And what is that?”

  He searched for any signs of deceit or disdain, but only found honest curiosity. He admitted quietly, “The Wild Ones.”

  He braced himself for her laughter, but she only smiled softly. “That suits you. I like that much better than Puck or even Sprite. However, I doubt that it’s something that you want spread around. What should I call you in public?”

  Something that he hadn’t even realized was tense relaxed at her words. Her trust and understanding after only being partnered with him for three days astonished and humbled him. “Fae is fine; most people won’t push for more than that.”

  “Okay, sorry if I was rude. I’m not well versed on the intricacies of Fae culture. You don’t have to answer my ques
tions if you don’t want.”

  “I don’t mind.” He was surprised to find that this was true. He was a man that highly valued his privacy, but surprisingly, he found it incredibly easy to share with her.

  Glancing at the clock, he sighed quietly. They only had about fifteen minutes until they arrived at their destination and it wouldn’t be fair to let her walk into it blind. Swallowing his hesitance, he said, “Leta?”

  She turned away from where she was watching out the window and focused on him, something in his voice alerting her to his sudden seriousness. “Yes?”

  “I need to explain something. My aunt is a Sheridan, a Populus Sheridan. She is the second strongest Sheridan of her generation and considered quite talented.” He paused, unsure of how to continue.

  When he didn’t say anything else, she prompted him gently, “But?”

  His hands tightened on the wheel. “This strength came with a price. Her gift took a toll on her and it affected her mind. She worked herself to a frazzle, and one day, her mind just snapped. I was younger at the time and I’d never been so scared in my life. They said that she had just collapsed like a rag doll. She’d was running a high fever and ended up being in a coma for a week. It was touch and go for a while; there were a few times that we thought we’d lost her.”

  She touched his shoulder supportively and he glanced at her appreciatively before continuing. “She ended up recovering physically, but mentally, she was never the same again. She has good days and bad days. Some days she’s as sharp as ever and other days, she just stares off into space. I called ahead and they told me that it’s a good day today, but that can change in a heartbeat. So please, be patient with her.”