Birthright, Page 3

  But the kid chose to stay here in Harborsmouth with me and Jinx. So long as Sparky wanted to be a part of our dysfunctional family, he was welcome here. None of us can choose the nature of our birth. Being born with certain powers didn’t make us monsters—it’s what we did with those powers that counted.

  If I stopped believing that, I might as well slit my own throat.

  “Come on, buddy,” I said, waving the kid along. “Leave Jinx alone. She’s looking murderous.”

  “Am not,” Jinx said, glaring from beneath bangs that contained so much hairspray, they were practically bulletproof. I cocked an eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest, and she rolled her eyes. She rubbed her ankle and sighed. “Okay, maybe just a little. You’d think my dad would keep these walkways clear of junk.”

  Yeah. Like her tripping didn’t have anything to do with her penchant for bad luck, or her choice of footwear. Platform sandals were not the best choice for a stakeout, even if they did match her dress.

  “We don’t have much farther to walk,” I said. “There’s a clearing up ahead. We can wait behind that bulldozer, and see if anything turns up.”

  I led the way, Sparky skipping along at my side. It didn’t take us long to reach the spot I’d spied during my daylight tour of the junkyard.

  Careful not to touch anything, I spread an old towel over a steel barrel and settled in for a whole lot of waiting. I wasn’t overly fond of stakeouts—I wasn’t the most patient person on the planet—but they were a necessary part of detective work. That didn’t mean I had to like it.

  I tapped my gloved fingers on the tops of my knees, and sighed.

  “Do you really think it’ll be wisps?” Jinx whispered.

  I frowned, and flashed a sidelong glance her way. She settled on the edge of an overturned milk crate, and concentrated on her skirt as she picked nonexistent lint from its hem.

  I shrugged, and turned my attention to the clearing where three of the pathways intersected just beyond the bulldozer that sheltered us from prying eyes.

  “I hope not,” I said.

  I crossed my fingers in the darkness, and sent up a silent prayer. Too bad no one was listening.

  *****

  I’d been staring so long into the dark clearing, that I no longer trusted my eyes. I’d started seeing tiny sparks of light, even behind my eyelids, after the first hour. It might have been fatigue, but my guess was a side effect of high blood pressure. Keeping Jinx awake, and Sparky from dancing and singing, was trying my patience.

  And I had been living on Ramen noodles and mac n cheese for the past few weeks—food that fell firmly in the high sodium food group. High blood pressure was a very real possibility. I told Jinx that stuff was evil.

  Four hours into our stakeout, a familiar glow appeared off to my right. It winked out, only to appear a second later off to my left. But no, it wasn’t just one glowing orb. Lights began winking on and off throughout the junkyard, zipping through skeletal car windows, and hovering over piles of refuse. That was no optical illusion, no Ramen induced side effect.

  My brethren were here.

  Jinx gasped, and clamped a hand over Sparky’s mouth, hugging the demon to her chest. Another second, and the little guy would have run off to chase the twinkling lights…and we all know how well that would end. If I’d given it more thought, I’d have put the kid in one of those toddler harnesses you see at the mall and tied him to my belt so he couldn’t run off.

  I motioned for Jinx to stay here with Sparky, as my knives hit my gloved palms. She set her jaw, and nodded once. Jinx wouldn’t let anything happen to Sparky. She’d wanted to come, to prove that the monsters hadn’t stolen her courage, that she wasn’t broken. Protecting the kid would give her something to focus on—it would give her strength.

  I turned my attention back to the swarming wisps. A low buzzing sound was building, as if the entire planet had started humming. Within minutes, wisps flooded the clearing. Their movements were jerky, not the smooth, graceful dance of the wisps I’d met during the Danse Macbre.

  These wisps may fly about like drunken pookas, but it was clear that they were all moving with a purpose. The wisps were hunting someone, and I had a good idea who.

  I stepped out from behind the backhoe, and the buzzing stopped. Silence fell on the clearing, and I held my breath. The wisps I’d met previously had been happy to help the daughter of their king. But my father had been wandering the world of men for a long time, leaving his people without a leader. These wisps might greet me with open arms, or I could get blasted with tiny fireballs. I had no idea what to expect.

  I just knew that I couldn’t walk away.

  “Come, my kin,” I said, taking a calming breath. “I am Ivy Granger, the daughter of Will-o’-the-Wisp. I don’t mean you any harm.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. Unlike pureblood fae, I can lie, at least for now. And though I didn’t want to hurt any of my people, I would do what was necessary to protect the people of Harborsmouth—even if that meant taking down a pack of wild wisps gone feral in my father’s absence.

  Oberon’s eyes, please don’t be a pack of tiny killers.

  “All I ask is that you refrain from harming innocent people…and animals,” I said, remembering the missing dog. “I’m sure this has all been a big misunderstanding.”

  I set down my silver and iron blades on the dusty ground at my feet, raised my hands, and smiled.

  “Ivy?” Jinx asked.

  A glance over my shoulder revealed Jinx stumbling toward me, a glowing wall of wisps at her back. In larger numbers, it was obvious that these wisps were different from the ones I’d met in the past. These wisps pulsed with a sickly, jaundiced hue. They started to zig zag nonsensical patterns in the air, and the buzzing began again, this time a discordant whine that made me grind my teeth.

  Jinx paled, her grip tightening on Sparky. The little demon was singing a nursery rhyme about hugs and love, oblivious to the potential danger.

  Jinx had her crossbow in the bag slung over her shoulder, but she’d never get to it without dropping Sparky. That was not an option. The kid was already reaching up toward the sparkling lights, and trying to wiggle out of Jinx’s death grip.

  “I am your princess,” I said, raising my voice so that it carried over the cacophony of buzzing. “These are my friends. None of us are here to harm you. We just want to talk.”

  “Pretty,” Sparky said, wiggling in Jinx’s arms. He reached up toward one of the wisps, and yelped. “Ouch!”

  “Ivy,” Jinx hissed. “It bit him.”

  Shit. This was not how this was supposed to go down. The wisps weren’t playing nice.

  “Okay, start heading toward the exit, while I distract them,” I said.

  “And how do you plan to do that?” she asked, inching toward the same path we’d taken to get here.

  I retrieved my knives, and spun, shooting one last glance at Sparky who was shaking in Jinx’s arms, and sucking on his finger. Mess with my kid, eh? I let the fear and anger take over, flooding my body with power.

  “Show them my angry side,” I said.

  “You mean flash them your headlights,” she said, stumbling away from the clearing. I snorted, and she sighed. “God, Ivy, you know what I mean.”

  I did know what she meant. I may not know how to control my wisp powers, but I’d learned one way to let them out. If I got mad enough, my faerie half took over, unleashing a rush of fiery magic.

  “Your eyes are glowing,” she said.

  “Good,” I said with a nod, feeling the tingle of magic searing my skin. It prickled along my scalp, down my arms and legs. More than just my eyes were glowing.

  I waved my blades toward the wisps, and tilted my head back, letting them get a good look at my glowing eyes and skin. I was their liege and, by Mab, they would listen to me.

  “No. More. Games,” I said, biting out the words. My teeth hummed with energy, the strain of holding so much wild power making my vision waver. “No more harming
innocent people and animals. You are mine, and you will obey.”

  For a moment, the glow of wisps closest to me began to shift into the healthy spectrum of light—a yellow like sunlight on a spring day—but it faded in a flash. In an eye blink, the wisps were twitching, bodies jerking back and forth, their color taking on a sickly green hue.

  There was something terribly wrong with these wisps.

  “What happened to you?” I asked, the words barely a whisper beneath the dissonant notes of wisp song. Rather than a melodic chirping and humming, this wisp song was tortured and strained. These wisps, my people, were in pain.

  I retrieved my knives, slid them back into the sheaths strapped beneath my leather jacket, and shook my head. Making threats and demands wasn’t getting through to these wisps, and it was no wonder. Something was making them sick, and in their weakened state, I was just another threat.

  With my ignorance of the wisp language, and their agitation, I could think of only one way to get the answers that I needed. I’d rather walk away. Hell, I’d rather run, but instead I stripped off my glove, and held out my hand.

  Sweat trickled down my spine, and my hand shook. It felt like I stood there for an eternity, but it was only a second before a wisp dove in to bite my hand.

  I staggered forward, falling to my knees. It wasn’t because of the pain of the bite—that was nothing more than a bee sting. No, what brought me to my knees was the vision sucking me down into the vortex of another being’s memories, moments of such raw emotion that they’d left psychic impressions on this wisp.

  Before I lost myself completely, I managed one last scream. The air in my lungs laced with fire.

  “Run!”

  I just hoped that Jinx and Sparky made it out of the junkyard alive.

  Chapter 6

  For a happy moment, I basked in the warm glow of my father holding court, but in this vision, he wasn’t my father. He was my king.

  Visions blur the lines, making it difficult to retain my sense of self, but I dug in, clawing at the fragments that remained of Ivy Granger. I knew that if I lost myself in a vision for too long, finally letting go and succumbing to the power of the vision, then I would never fully return to my body. My mind would shatter, leaving a shell of my former self behind.

  “Father,” I choked.

  But he was already gone. The warmth and safety of the wisp court was replaced by a bog. It was peaceful here—birds sang, frogs sat on lily pads, and wisps floating lazily above the water—until the construction crew came. Men with chainsaws and dynamite changed the surrounding landscape, rending it into a wasteland.

  We hid in the remaining vegetation along the water’s edge, waiting for the men to leave. Instead they brought in monstrous dump trucks and backhoes to loom over the swamp hole. When the excavation reached the middle of the swamp, encroaching further on our hiding place within the cattails and bog grass, we decided to flee.

  Frightened and starving, we flew away from the men and their noisy machines. But in every direction more men blocked our way, driving in their machines of iron. And where there were no men, there were fae unwilling to share their territory.

  At last, we settled in a quiet place where no other fae had settled, and for good reason. It was ringed in iron, its metal fence reaching high to defend against our wingless brethren. We moved to the center of our new territory, as far from the iron fence as we could manage, to a shallow pool of water.

  We struggled to retain our strength, to fight against the iron madness that threatened our sanity and our survival. More iron was brought into our territory, but we held out. We fought the iron sickness—until the water dried up.

  Now, we just fight.

  *****

  I gasped, air wheezing through my burning lungs with an unhealthy rattle. I came back to myself in a sudden rush of memories, struggling to pull back from the brink.

  Every vision was a danger to my sanity, but touching the wisp had been worth that risk. I now knew why these wisps were behaving so strangely. Their homes had been threatened and they were hungry and suffering from iron sickness.

  It was making them rabid.

  “Ivy?” Jinx asked. “Ivy, wake up!”

  “Jinx?” I asked, blinking away the last of the vision. What was she doing here? I’d made one hell of a diversion. Jinx and Sparky should have been in the next county by now. “Where’s Sparky?”

  “Back at the gates,” she said. “He thinks he’s playing a game of Houdini.”

  “You tied him up?” I asked.

  I stood up too fast, and the junkyard started spinning. It didn’t help that the wisps were still buzzing around like drunken fireflies.

  “You got a better idea?” she asked.

  Jinx was holding a loaded crossbow in one hand and a can of hairspray in the other. At least, it looked like Jinx’s hairspray. It might have been roach killer. Not that insect spray would kill wisps, but it might slow them down.

  I started to shake my head, but thought better of it. I needed all my senses if we were going to make it out of here in one piece. Jinx and I weren’t likely to become wisp led, but I was sure my people had other weapons up their sleeves—most likely some hardcore magic ones. I just hoped they were too to iron sick to realize that.

  “Nope, you did good,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I reached into my leather jacket, pulled out a heavy round object, and lobbed it into the opposite side of the clearing.

  “Run!” I said.

  Jinx’s eyes went wide, but she ran, only stumbling once or twice. I was pretty sure that was a record for my unlucky friend.

  “What did you throw?” she panted, running at my side toward the gate. “A grenade?”

  “Nope,” I said with a smile. “Honey.”

  Most fae have a sweet tooth, and I knew from my vision that these wisps were starving. The jar was supposed to be a gift for Marvin, a teenaged bridge troll who I owed with my life, but I’d buy him another jar. Maybe I could afford a jar if I scrounged up enough bottles. The redemption center was probably getting sick of the chick in dark sunglasses and hoodie. I practically lived there lately. Being broke sucked.

  We reached the gates where Sparky was singing and spinning around the gate post, wrapped in a ribbon, as if dancing around a May pole.

  “So what was that all about anyway?” Jinx asked, running a hand over her hair.

  Not that her hair was messy. She hairsprayed it within an inch of its life.

  Jinx slung her crossbow over her shoulder like it was a new fashion accessory, and started untying Sparky. Not that the kid needed much help. The little demon had already worked his way through most of the knots.

  “Is that the bow from your dress?” I asked, pointing at the ribbon.

  “Ivy,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not giving up that easily. We almost got nuked by a gang of crazy, hung over wisps with bad attitudes. I’d say I’ve earned an explanation.”

  I sighed. She was right.

  “They’re not hung over, but they’ve certainly gone off the reservation,” I said.

  “So they’re a group of psycho rogue wisps?” she asked, taking Sparky by the hand and giving the kid a lollipop. I really hoped that demon diabetes wasn’t a thing, because the two of us were spoiling that kid.

  I recalled what I’d learned from my vision, and shrugged. The wisps had reverted to the primal urges of wisps—and one of those instincts was to hunt their enemies by leading them away to the edges of battles, where they were often drowned or became lost in an unfamiliar landscape. Wisps are small fae, but no less deadly. I feared that Eben’s watchman Bruce would not be finding his dog again, not alive anyway.

  I explained my fears to Jinx.

  “I need to find a way to move these wisps somewhere away from iron, somewhere safe,” I said. “If I understood the wisp language, and knew how to command them, I’d be able to save the wisps, and the junkyard.”

  “Yeah, but you’d need your fat
her, the king of the wisps, for that,” Jinx said. “Last I knew you still didn’t have any solid leads on where to find him.”

  “I may have one lead,” I said, not meeting her eyes.

  “Ivy?” she asked, waving a hand at me from head to toe. “Did bodysnatching aliens come and take you to their mother ship? ‘Cause last I knew, my best friend shared important shit with me, like, you know, leads on finding her long lost father.”

  “I can’t talk about it,” I said. “But if it pans out, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Fine, whatever,” she said, stomping toward the street with Sparky on her hip. “Since you’re so great at doing things on your own, I’ll just leave you to inform my dad that his business is crawling with iron sick fae.”

  Wisps don’t actually crawl, not even sick ones, but I didn’t correct her. She tossed me a “have fun with that” look over her shoulder, and kept on walking.

  “Thanks a lot, Jinx,” I muttered, but I couldn’t blame her for being upset. I’d spent nearly every dime we had on locating my father. If I’d learned something new, she should have been the first to know. Too bad faerie law forbade me from telling her.

  I sighed and trudged up the steps to the trailer Eben Braxton used as his on-site office. This wasn’t going to be fun.

  Chapter 7

  Unlike Jinx, who could sweet talk an angry bugbear, I’ve never been all that good with people. It probably had something to do with growing up seeing monsters at every turn, and having seizures when someone gave me a hug.

  The gifts from my father’s side of the family—second sight and psychometry—had left me a bit prickly when it came to social situations. I’d rather work from the shadows than the limelight, and I’d rather be anywhere right now than inside Eben Braxton’s tiny work trailer.

  Eben’s onsite office was an eight foot by twenty eight foot metal can with a desk, shelves, and file cabinets in the front, and a small bathroom and cot in the back. The entire place was filled with stacks of paper, plastic binders, and discarded work gloves, safety gear, and tools.