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It took dozens of payoffs and threats, but we managed to keep the chaos of the fires and murders under wraps from the public as to not create a mass panic. Until I understood what we were dealing with and why, I couldn’t have the kingdom running off their mouths and diving into wild speculation. It would only lead to more problems. These things had to be kept quiet.
Which was why Maren never learned about the other events of that day.
Odette’s locator spell had worked, but the caravan of warlocks moved on again, and while the police force had questioned some of them, the Royal Guards had scattered the region looking for the rest. I still wasn’t sure that they were responsible for what had happened because they hadn’t been properly vetted. The few that had been spoken to had been checked for previous criminal activity and had scans for dark magic, but so far, they had turned up clean. The warlocks appeared to be harmless travelers, and we were back to square one with suspects.
After that one night, everything had calmed down, as if there had been a purpose to the fires and murders that I couldn’tquite connect yet. But I would eventually. I had every available Royal Guard out, talking to residents discreetly, scouring the crime scenes for clues and looking for those responsible for both Jergin’s murder and that of the landlord from the east end of South Havenmire.
After a month, the trail had gone icy cold, but my nerves were as frayed as ever, the sense that these had not all merely been random, senseless acts weighing heavily on me.
“There’s undeniably dark magic at play here,” Odette informed me at breakfast, and I put my fork down to rub the bridge of my nose. She had said the same thing every day for the last four weeks.
“That doesn’t help me, Odie,” I snapped. “Unless you can tell me the source of it.”
“Well, the warlocks do like to dabble in it,” she reminded me, also for the umpteenth time. “Maybe one of them opened a portal of sorts.”
“There are no portals of dark magic. You conjure dark magic,” I countered. “You’re an enchantress. You should know this.”
“Well, someone has been using it, and it’s in the kingdom,” Odette told me flatly, refusing to show shame in my correction.
My eyes narrowed slightly. This wasn’t the first time she’d shown me incompetence, but I’d always brushed it off as my dislike for her.
“Then get it out. Have you told the residents to double down on their runeshade pepper intake?”
“Of course,” the enchantress sighed, reaching for her cup and taking a long sip. “But you know that only does so much once it’s inside you. If someone is tainted with dark magic, it’s going to take more than some magical peppers to get rid of that.”
She eyed me meaningfully, her sooty eyes glowing. My own eyes narrowed.
What the hell is that supposed to mean now?
“Runeshade peppers are precautionary, and not always curative,” I agreed slowly. “Why are you so defiant today?”
Odette’s back stiffened. “I’m not! I want you to be realistic!”
“What are you suggesting now?” I barked. I had no patience for anything these days. Without Maren to ground and inspire me, the walls of the castle closed in around me again, and I was retreating into myself.
It was all work, no social. Focus on the kingdom and only the kingdom. Everything else be damned.
“You have to admit that it’s strange timing that all of this happened when those dancers started coming around,” Odette said quietly.
My hands closed into fists over the table, but Odette rushed on. “I’ve been wanting to bring this to you for weeks now, Nyx, but I was afraid of how you’d react.”
I ground my teeth, anger surging inside me already, but I managed to keep myself under control. “Say your piece,” I growled, knowing I didn’t want to hear it.
“Have you questioned the dancers?”
“The police questioned the dancers at the scene,” I spat back. “You know that.”
“What about the ones who weren’t at the scene of Jergin’s murder?”
My jaw cricked with the tautness. “If you’re asking if I questioned Maren, why would I? I know where she was that night. Drakias was with her, remember?”
“Was he?” Odette pushed. “Isn’t she an owl shifter? She could have snuck out any time.”
The blood drained out of my face, and the resentment bubbled out of me and into Odette. “Don’t you think I would know if the fae I shared my bed with was seeping in dark magic?”
“I knew this would upset you,” she sighed dramatically.
“How do you expect me not to be upset?” I barked. “You never liked Maren because she was part of the cabaret. You never took the time to know her.”
