Fae or Fae Knot (Providence Paranormal College Book 10)

by D. R. Perry

A soft whimper came from the bench below. I peered down at the dragon and her egg. Hertha had definitely moved this time. When I looked up again, Bianca and Kasa had gone.

  Chapter Five

  Gemma

  “This time, the gloves come off, Thurston!” My voice sailed out on a plume of mist, a sign that the evening’s temperatures might dip below freezing. Cold or not, being outside felt like freedom after fourteen hours in the library with the CLEP tablet.

  “Bring it!” The Headmistress smirked and tilted her eyes up at the Jack-o'-lantern hovering a few feet above her head.

  I stretched my arms out, harnessing currents of wind off the water. It whipped away all the treble from the vampire Punk band practicing on the far side of India Point Park before rushing up and then down. The carved orange face mocked me by only bobbing slightly instead of ending up over the Headmistress’s face.

  “Come on, Tolland, is that all you got?”

  “No!” I lied. It pretty much was, without a wand to focus the magical air energy I barely ever used. When you know for sure you’ll grow up to be a Troll, you don’t much bother with a side-power like air magic. It blows.

  Before Henrietta Thurston could call me out for fibbing the Jack-o'-lantern sailed gracefully down to rest on the ground behind her. She turned her head to watch three and a half suits stride across the lawn toward us. The fourth figure wore jeans and a mullet.

  “Professor Thurston, we have some questions for you.” A perky brunette smiled and flashed a badge. Federal.

  “And you are?” Thurston’s saucy expression had morphed into an icy calm.

  “Natalie Johnson, FBE.” She tilted her head at the tall guy next to her. “This is my partner, Agent Derek Dennison.”

  “It’s good to see you again, Headmistress.” Agent Dennison grinned. “And thanks for your part in getting me reoriented after my, um, stay in the Under.”

  “I’d appreciate an explanation instead of thanks, Agents.” She crossed her arms.

  “We were part of a RECO unit investigating the Gatto Gang but current circumstances here changed our orders.” Agent Johnson shrugged with one shoulder, bouncing her hair.

  “So what are you looking for from me, exactly?”

  “There’s an item of interest.” Agent Dennison cleared his throat, tugging at the tie collaring him. If one of these Feds was the “bad cop” I couldn’t tell which. “We need to search for it in every magically enhanced building at three locations in the state.”

  “Let me guess. One of these is my school.” She sighed. “I assume you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t already got warrants.”

  Dennison nodded. “And the other is the Harcourt mansion in Newport.” He jerked his chin at the pair behind him. “That’s why we have Weaver and Klein with us. They have a question for you.”

  “Where’s Hertha Harcourt?” Detective Klein pulled no punches. He stood with his feet apart, hands on his hips pushing the puffy orange vest to either side. That and the mullet fluttering in the mid-autumn breeze gave his attempt at assertiveness a thick coating of corny with a side of ridiculous.

  Henrietta Thurston sighed and shook her head. The Detective locked gazes with her, eyes narrowing. If he hadn’t looked so much like Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future, I wouldn’t have laughed. I put my hand over my mouth right after, a second too late. I’d attracted some of the most negative attention in the near vicinity.

  “There’s nothing funny about our case, Tolland.” Detective Weaver stepped forward, one hand drifting to the cuffs at her waist. Iron ones. “Your presence here stinks to high heaven, though, especially with your record.”

  “She’s with me, Weaver.” The Headmistress tilted her head. “You’re looking at the most recent recipient of the Thurston Family Scholarship.”

  “Oh really? Then teach her about how nobody laughs at my partner except me.”

  Agent Dennison mumbled something about how I wasn’t so bad but nobody paid attention.

  “Consider it done.” Thurston nodded. “But as to your question about Hertha, I don’t have an answer for you.”

  “Who do you have an answer for, then?” Klein tapped his foot. “I want to be there when they ask it.”

  “I’m not being dodgy, Detective. I truly don’t know where Hertha’s off to. But if you want to investigate at the Harcourt home, I can direct you toward her son, Blaine.”

  “Living on campus again, is he?”

  “Yes. Hutchinson dorm, first floor. But he’s probably at the dining hall having dinner at this hour.”

  Klein said nothing, just strode off across the park and toward the East Side of Providence.

  “We’ll head over there, then.” Weaver paused. “Good luck with Tolland. She’s a handful.”

  “The handfuls always make the best students.”

  My face heated. The Headmistress applied her sass to everything, even propping up the reputations of former problem children. Or maybe she had an old grudge match with Detective Weaver. She waited until after the detectives had walked away to speak again.

  “What do you expect from a spider shifter?” Thurston shrugged. “Venom, prickliness, and a long spool of memory all wrapped up in a predatory package.”

  “True story.” Agent Dennison smirked.

  I placed his surname. This Federal agent was Josh Dennison’s missing big brother. He’d vanished while the rest of us were either still in High School or waiting for it with expectations loftier than a dragon’s attitude. I took a gamble.

  “From one problem kid to another, thanks.”

  “Nah, don’t mention it.” Agent Dennison stuck out his hand. “You had a hand in getting me out of the Under.”

  “Just say you’re welcome already and move on, okay?” Agent Johnson waved one hand in my general direction. “We’ve got a big campus to search.”

  “Can it wait until tomorrow?” Agent Dennison shuffled one foot against the grass. “We still have to get paper warrants from the Night court.”

  “Well, we thought it’d be less disruptive if we had a look at all the diurnal spaces tonight and the nocturnal ones tomorrow, if that makes sense?” Agent Johnson was way too bubbly to be a Fed. Maybe that was one reason they’d given her a badge.

  “It does.” Headmistress nodded. “But you’re interrupting a directed studies practicum here.”

  “No worries, we can wait until you’re finished.” Agent Natalie Johnson smiled. “I can watch a good magic practical any day of the week. And Derek here loves Punk music.” She beckoned to Agent Dennison, who followed her all the way over to the stage where Lane Meyer’s band practiced.

  “But this isn’t the test.” I didn’t dare even glance at the Headmistress as I protested. For all I knew, she could have been grading me for real all day.

  “Whatever it is, we shall get back to it Miss Tolland. This time, you will take up the wand you didn’t use last night.”

  This time, I had no choice but to take my twenty paces and turn to face her. The Jack-o'-lantern lifted in the air above her head again. Pulling the wand from where I’d tucked it into my belt felt like a cop-out. No self-respecting faerie used magus props for glamour or any other fae magic. But my Air stuff came from my mortal side, something I tried to forget about. I’d looked down my nose at the girl I’d been in High School for seven years, punishing myself for trusting a Sidhe.

  Maybe it wasn’t about self-respect. Learning about all kinds of magic was the goal here, how it worked overall. More self-awareness might hurt in the short-term but almost everyone I admire has that. Instead of using my magic to shout down the wind, I pointed the wand at the carved gourd and tried to imagine myself directing it like a conductor with an orchestra.

  The Jack-o'-lantern bobbed down immediately, but then back up again in the Headmistress’s more experienced magical hands. I rolled my eyes and focused on something over Thurston’s shoulder so I could take a handful of deep breaths and refocus my energy.

  The punk band played up on t
he small stage provided by Providence Parks and Recreation. Lane stepped back, letting his guitarist have the stage for a solo. Without magical interference, the wind carried a riff so sick it’d go as viral as swine flu if only someone recorded them. I dropped my wand arm, impressed.

  Agent Natalie Johnson held her phone up, doing just that. Her partner, Derek Dennison, stood there staring at the performance like it was a glass of water and he hadn’t had a drop to drink for three days. No, not the performance. Matt, the Night Creatures guitarist. I filed the information away for a future conversation with Josh. Better for him to learn that his werewolf brother had a crush on a vampire some place quiet. Romance between opposing factions only ended in disaster. I was living proof of that.

  Pointing the wand again, I stared daggers at the jeering face on the Headmistress’s pumpkin. I hadn’t meant to unpack all the old Albert Dunstable-induced hand-staple-forehead moments, but they popped out like Jacks-in-the-box. I snorted.

  “Jack trumps Jack.” I punctuated that sentence with a focused jet of wind from the tip of the wand, steady and strong. Angst flowed out with it, teenage and otherwise.

  The dumb pumpkin resisted as the Headmistress pushed back with her own air magic. Nevertheless, I persisted, but without the results I’d originally expected. Instead of crashing down on Thurston’s head, the Jack-o'-lantern squashed, caving in on itself inches from her hair.

  I called back my magic, letting the air go its own way. The lump of pumpkin puree floated into a trash can before the Headmistress dropped her own spell. She nodded at me, then put her wand away. I followed her lead and also her footsteps as she headed across the park toward the agents in charge of investigating her school.

  Henrietta Thurston kept a near-perfect illusion of calm. Mostly, she seemed iced-over, safe behind a layer of something that made her untouchable. The one time I’d seen that layer crack was the night she took up the Kitsune tails, reviving an extinct magical shifter type.

  Impossible was the word I would have used to describe my current situation. Identifying with the Headmistress of PPC was an idea I’d have laughed at only a few days earlier. But we had more in common than not. The biggest difference was that she navigated her course with more grace in her figurative pinkie than I had in my whole literal body.

  She’d all but vowed to get revenge on her ex-husband the Extramagus. I wondered how she’d manage that under all the emotional armor and law enforcement scrutiny. It seemed as unlikely as getting my daughter back, but somehow, Headmistress Thurston seemed like a woman who could do five impossible things before breakfast. I had no way to even guess the outcome of her voyage.

  Was Henrietta Thurston my Janey-come-lately role model? The only thing I could do was follow her and find out.

  Hope

  Grandpa always said to never wake a sleeping dragon, but I wasn’t sure I could keep quiet. That’s why I jumped out of the tree at an angle and let the slow fall wards set me down a few steps from the door. But before I could reach out to open it, Ed stepped in front of me.

  He didn’t say a word, just shook his head. When I rolled my eyes, he put his hands on his hips. I tried ducking around him but my wings got in the way. Finally, I won by taking a deep breath and acting like I’d scream.

  After opening the door, I headed into the hall where it was bright as day even though my brain told me it was night time. Ed followed, probably trying to keep me out of trouble or whatever. At least he made sure the door shut behind me all nice and quiet.

  “You suck at playing chicken, Ed.”

  “Maybe that’s because I don’t have wings.” He trotted to catch up even though we were about the same size. “It’s not a good idea, being out at this hour. It looks like daytime, but it’s not. And there are scary things with more power at what passes for the night here.”

  “What would you know?” I snorted. Sometimes, Ed acted like he was seventy instead of seven. Nothing in Seelie could be as scary as Grims or other woojie stuff in the king’s side of the Under.

  “For your information, I’ve had four whole months of sleepovers in this castle.” Ed stuck out his lower lip and tried to blow his bangs out of his eyes. They fell right back down again. “I know plenty. Anyway, there’s no point to going now.”

  “Why?” It felt cool, being able to ask another person questions. I was used to everything and everyone in Faerie owning me if I asked too many. Ed was only a psychic though. I could ask him anything at all. Having a psychic friend could be cool if only he’d stop acting like the world’s biggest know it all.

  “It’s all stuff for the bigs at this hour.” He tried grabbing my hand.

  “You sound like a big, with your at this hour stuff.” I moved it out of the way.

  “Well you sound like a baby, just wanting something for the sake of having it.”

  “I don’t want to go out here for no reason. The ghost ladies gave us a quest and I take those seriously, mister.”

  “Mister? Jeez.” He rolled his eyes. “This isn't a good time to call me an old fogie.”

  “Carp a something or other.” I snapped my fingers. “Not the fish, that’s carp. I mean like grabbing a moment or whatever.”

  “Carpe diem? There’s never a real noctem here.”

  “Whatever.” I didn’t get his joke but didn’t want to sound dumb. “Anyway, I’m gonna find that box.”

  “No way. I’m gonna.”

  I laughed. Ed had no experience going on quests. I did. Then again, maybe he didn’t know that.

  “Look, I know what I’m doing here. Grew up helping my family out with quests. So, don’t slow me down, okay?”

  “We’re not supposed to look together, remember?”

  “Oh.” I peeked at him from out of the corner of my eye. He’d just asked me a second question and already owed me one. If he got into my debt three times without paying some back, he’d owe me his life. I kept my mouth shut because I wasn’t sure whether I wanted it or even knew what to do with a medium’s life, anyway. “So go back to bed, Ed.”

  “You.”

  “No. I got here first.”

  “Kids, hmm.” The voice came from an open doorway to our left. It sounded creakier than fifty rusty hinges moving at the same time. “I haven’t seen children here in an age.”

  “Um, thanks, I guess.” I stepped forward, trying to peek into the room the voice came from.

  “Do not go in there.” Ed’s hand grabbed mine, holding on tight. It was clammy, too. Ick.

  “It’s okay, young man.” The voice replied. “You’re right to be concerned and correct. Neither of you should enter my rooms if you value your lives.”

  I stopped with one foot in the air. I wouldn’t take a triple dog dare to go in there now. Something in the squeaky old voice gave me creeps the size of Texas. I stepped back, next to Ed.

  “I bet you can’t come out of there.”

  “Oh, I certainly can. It merely takes an old soul like me a very long time to do so.” I heard a few clicks and then a rustle, like fabric and the snap on an old pair of jeans.

  “You wouldn’t come out now.”

  “I would,” the voice said. “As a matter of fact, I’m in the process of doing exactly that. Perhaps you’ll wait for an old creature.”

  “Perhaps not.” Ed stepped back, dragging me by the hand.

  “Why, Ed?” I tried to follow him but my feet didn’t want to move. When they finally did, it was hard to get them unstuck from the floor. It was like being inside a movie theater that hadn’t been cleaned or something.

  “That’s a Tsuchigomo in there.”

  “Bless you.”

  “I didn’t sneeze.”

  “Okay, so what did you say? In English, okay?”

  “Spider goblin.”

  “Not a spider shifter?”

  “No.” Ed’s hand had gotten even sweatier. “He’s something completely different, not even a faerie. Spider shifters are related to these guys, but only like a puppy dog is to wolves.”


  “So you’re telling me the guy in there couldn’t turn into a spider, he actually is a half-and-half one. Like a mermaid?”

  “Yeah, okay. Something like a mermaid. That makes sense since they’re not faeries either.” Ed kept dragging me down the hall toward the nursery. “Except instead of being half-fish and half-person, Tsuchigomo are half-spider and half-person. Kids disappear when they’re around him, too.”

  Ed didn’t have to say anything else, or drag me anymore either. Instead, I ran ahead so fast he had a hard time keeping up. We didn’t stop until we got to the door to the treehouse room.

  “So, will you go back in there already?”

  “Yeah, sure, fine. Whatever.” I stood with my hands at my sides, not reaching for the doorknob yet. “So I’ll look for that box tomorrow.”

  “Good plan.” Ed managed a shaky grin. “But we’re not out of the woods. We still gotta sneak past the dragon lady.”

  We managed that just fine. Getting back to sleep was easy, too. Being out of danger was like Halloween night an hour after candy.

  The next morning, not so much.

  Chapter Six

  Albert

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose, pushing my glasses up as I tried to get rid of the headache that had my sinuses in a death grip. The trip back to the mortal realm had been easy but staying awake while sitting in the night court after twenty hours wasn’t. The jury foreman’s voice amounted to white noise in my poor ears, even though he announced something we’d all been waiting months for.

  “On all three charges of Crimes Against Extrahumanity, we find the defendant, not guilty.”

  Relieved sighs and angry rustles danced an echo in the yawning stone chamber. Karen Gunn, the prosecutor, slammed something against her table. I winced and pushed my glasses up again to rub the bridge of my nose.

  “You okay, man?” I turned to find the contingent from Tinfoil Hat seated in the row behind me. Tony had spoken.