Ghost Light

I followed the faerie into the kitchen where Ceff sat at a small table eating strawberry shortcake and talking with a second bean-tighe.  Strawberries are a favorite of the bean-tighe and this family was no exception.  Strawberry vines grew from pots on the window sill, painted strawberries adorned white cabinets and door casings, and a fluffy, red and green, knit strawberry cozy covered the tea pot in the center of the table.

“Where are my manners?” said the bean-tighe who’d let me in.  She’d started to take a seat, but jumped up and pulled another chair to the table.  “Would you like a cup of tea?”

That’s the thing about faeries.  They’re extremely polite, when they’re not trying to eat your face off.

“No, thank you,” I said.

I took the offered seat, but kept my hands in my lap.  I would have preferred to stand, but the bean-tighe were each bent so far forward from dowager’s humps that I worried they’d strain something trying to meet my eyes.  As it was, they had to tilt their heads uncomfortably to avoid staring at the table.

“Myrtha and Glynda were just telling me about their daughter, Flynis,” Ceff said.

He held out a sketch of a smiling bean-tighe child.  All fae are careful not to be photographed in their true form, but paintings and sketches are allowed.  The artist had captured the child perfectly.  It was definitely the same girl from my vision.

“She’s…lovely,” I said.  “Um, does Flynis have any fae friends or teachers who are musicians?  Or perhaps a neighbor who lives in your building?  I’m looking for someone who may have been a witness the night she went missing.  This person is skilled at playing a woodwind instrument, perhaps a flute, panpipes, or pennywhistle.”

Myrtha frowned, brow furrowed and Glynda shook her head.

“No, not that I know of,” Glynda said.  “Can you think of anyone, Myrtha?”

“Not a one,” Myrtha said.

Oh well, it had been a long-shot.

“Was there anything unusual about last night?” I asked.  “Anything at all?”

“We’ve been over the details so many times, but there’s nothing we can remember,” Glynda said.  The teacup in her hand clattered against the saucer as her hand shook.  Myrtha reached out and took her hand, holding it in her own.  “It was such an ordinary night.  We ate strawberry jam on toast with warm milk, just like we always do, and put Flynis to bed.  We went to our room where Myrtha read and I worked on my knitting.  I’m sorry.  I wish I could remember something useful.”

“That’s alright,” I said, standing.  “You’ve been very helpful.”

Ceff stood and thanked the bean-tighe for the shortcake and tea.  As we left the kitchen, I looked back over my shoulder.

“One more thing,” I said.  “Do you have much trouble with rats in this part of the city?”

Ceff raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask where my strange questions were coming from.  Myrtha shook her head and Glynda let out a barking laugh.

“Rats?” Glynda asked.  “We keep a clean house, detective.  There’s nothing for those vermin here, or in the alley below.  There are much better places to find food in this city.  If you’re looking for rats, check the docks.”

It was true.  The bean-tighe obviously used their brooms for more than flying.  The rats had climbed up from the sewers, but why?  I was afraid I was about to find out.

Chapter 12

I tried calling Kaye, but my witch friend was working in her spell kitchen and couldn’t be disturbed.  I left a message with Arachne to have Kaye get back to me and ended the call.  My phone displayed the current time as forty-five minutes past six o’clock.  Crap, it was later than I thought.  Sunset came early during the month of March.  I couldn’t just wait around for Kaye to call me back.  We were running out of daylight.

I had a feeling that the mysterious piper was the key to solving the case, but I’d have to look elsewhere for answers.  I jumped down from the fire escape, checked that my weapons were still in place, and hurried up Baker’s Row.  Half a block away, Ceff caught up with me.

“Are you going to tell me what happened back there?” he asked.  “You were in that alley for nearly an hour.”

Oberon’s eyes.  My chest tightened and I swallowed hard.  I’d been in the alley for an hour?  That explained how it got so late.  Lost time was a problem with visions, one of many.

Ceff looked cool and relaxed, thumbs in his pants pockets as he strode next to me with fluid grace, but a muscle jumped in his cheek as he clenched his jaw.  I shrugged and looked away.

“I had a vision,” I said.  “No big deal.”

I snuck a glance at Ceff as he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.  He was trying to remain calm, but a vein twitched on his forehead, matching the muscle in his cheek.

“What did you see?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.