Briar watched Shadow prowl around her herb room as if she expected to find something dodgy, energy rolling off her. Briar was exhausted just watching her.
“What are you looking for, Shadow?”
“Nothing!” Shadow turned to her, her violet eyes wide with surprise. “Why?”
“You look like you think I might have hidden a body in here!”
Shadow laughed. “I wouldn’t tell, even if you had!” She sobered immediately. “Have you? Have you mashed their bones into a paste, saved their blood, and put their hair in a spell?”
Briar tried to laugh, but it came out as a strangled cry. “Of course not, you daft idiot! What kind of witch do you think I am?”
Shadow just winked. “Never mind.”
Briar stopped chopping the geranium leaves she was preparing and dropped them into hot water, inhaling the scent with pleasure, and then readied the next herbs, eyeing Shadow while she worked. “Are you bored?”
Shadow wagged her head. “Maybe. But I am intrigued by your random spirit attack. And of course Caspian was attacked, too.”
“You heard about that?”
“Caspian phoned Gabe last night. He wanted additional protection for his house and the warehouse.”
“For his house?” Briar asked, surprised. “I can see his reasoning, but still, I’m surprised.”
A mischievous grin spread across her face. “He argued with Estelle.”
“Did he? Over what?”
“Her being a bitch! What else?”
That was far too simple an explanation. “She’s always been one of those. Something must have happened.”
“He didn’t go into details.” Shadow looked disappointed. “But he sent his uncle away, too. Although he renewed his protection spell, I guess the attack has shaken him up.”
Briar had planned to check Caspian’s wound later that day, so maybe she could find out then. She changed tack. “Was the warehouse attacked?”
“No. It was as quiet as the grave. Anyway,” she said, pulling herself up onto the counter and leaning her arms on her knees, “I’m guessing you called me for a reason, so how can I help?”
“Well,” Briar paused, looking forward to Shadow’s reaction, “I hear that you see piskies!”
She sat up abruptly, looking shocked. “Who told you that? It was that bloody womaniser, wasn’t it?”
Briar laughed. “No, it wasn’t Eli. It was Zee.”
“Gossipmonger! You just wait ’til I see him later.”
“Why didn’t you tell us? It doesn’t need to be a secret, does it?”
“I guess not. I suppose I wasn’t sure what you’d think about another bit of the Otherworld in this one.”
“I think it’s great!” Briar said, and then she frowned. “Well, if they’re harmless. I guess that brings us to why I wanted to speak to you. You’ve heard about Inez Walker, I presume?”
Shadow nodded, suddenly serious. “Yes. I met her brother-in-law. He was the one who took my statement. ”
“Well, Newton was with her when she died, and he said that there was something supernatural in the tunnel—something small and fast. Inez was hit hard, her skull crushed, and Newton was almost attacked too, until he whacked whatever it was with his torch. But, there’s no evidence of what it could be. And combined with the man who was found crushed in Fowey…” She trailed off.
“You think it’s something supernatural that I might be able to see?”
“Yes. Some kind of Otherworldly something.”
Shadow frowned. “I’m certainly willing to try, but I’ve really only seen piskies so far. Well, I call them pixies, actually.” She smiled. “They’re sort of an unexpected present. They pop up when I least expect them to.”
“What do you mean by ‘pop up?’”
Shadow spread her hands wide. “I can’t predict it. They are there one minute and gone the next.”
“Where do they go?” Briar asked, confused.
“Good question. I think it’s sort of like what I can do when I’m in the woods. I blend into the landscape. I don’t think they actually pass between worlds. In fact,” she paused, thoughtful. “I’m sure of it.”
Briar nodded. “Have you heard of spriggans?”
“I don’t think so, but you may have a different name for them here. What are they?”
“According to folklore, they are small, wizened men, incredibly strong, that possess—sort of—the ghosts of giants.”
“Giants? Wow.”
“They also guard buried treasure.”
“Hence the connection to the current events,” Shadow said, thoughtfully. She stared at Briar. “There were giants here, once?”
“According to our myths, yes. Cornwall is renowned for them. Were they in the Otherworld?”
“Yes, but there aren’t many now, and they keep themselves isolated. I don’t know about spriggans though, or if we have an equivalent.” Her face brightened, and she jumped off the countertop and walked to the door. “Okay, I’ll do some investigating.”
“Well, be careful,” Briar called after her. “They’re violent!”
“Don’t worry. So am I,” Shadow said, before she shut the door behind her.
Reuben groaned and looked up from the old book open in front of him, the words swimming before his eyes.
He was reclining in a deep armchair in front of a large stone fireplace, currently unlit due to the summer heat. “This is so tedious,” he said to Avery.
She was sitting at a table under the long windows that overlooked the gardens at the side of the house, and her red hair glowed in the sunlight that streamed in. She looked up at him, vague for a moment before she focussed. “It’s great! You have an awesome library.”
He looked around at the oak shelves stacked with books from floor to ceiling, the only wall not to be affected the one with the windows. The shelves were filled with paperbacks, hardbacks, and classics with leather covers and gilded titles, as well as very old books worn by many hands over time.
“I suppose it is impressive,” he admitted. “Not that I’ve really been in here for years.”
“I can tell. It has an unloved feeling. At least it’s clean.”
“That’s what cleaners are for.”
“You should get this catalogued! You could have all sorts of hidden gems tucked away in here.”
“You could do it.”
Avery shook her head. “I’m not a rare book dealer. I wouldn’t know what I’m looking at. You need a professional.”
“You sell books!”
“Regular books! Two completely different things.”
It sounded like a lot of hard work to him, but he wanted to keep Avery happy. “Maybe I should…one day. Have you found anything, anyway?”
When Avery had arrived a couple of hours before, they searched the library and found that the shelves had been organised into categories. They had discovered a section full of books about Cornwall that encompassed a mix of history, myths, and folklore, but nothing that was particularly relevant to Reuben’s family history. Nevertheless, they had pulled a few pertinent titles and started to read them.
“Not really,” she said, disappointed. “Just information that we already knew about spriggans, Púcas, and piskies. What about you?”
“Only some generic smuggling stuff. Nothing about the Jacksons specifically. This book talks about Coppinger, and he really does sound like he was an evil bastard. He extorted, smuggled, tortured and murdered people, and generally terrorised the neighbourhood. North Cornwall, in particular. I can’t imagine we would have worked with him. But then again, our families did some questionable stuff in the past.”
“They did,” Avery admitted, “but they also did good things. Maybe your family fought with him for the rights to smuggle here. You know, force him back to the north.”
“It’s possible.” He leaned back and looked thoughtfully at the shelves again. “If we had been involved with Coppinger, we wouldn’t be likely to leave evidence just lying around, would we?” A recollection of old boxes filled with papers in the attic made him sit upright suddenly, jerking his injured shoulder, and he winced. “Ow. I’ve just had a thought.”
“Did that hurt your head?” Avery said, teasing him.
“Funny. There are some boxes of letters in the attic—the regular side, not the spell room. I remember seeing them when we moved some old furniture up there a few years ago. I wonder if there’s something in those.”
“Letters! Reuben, they sound fascinating!”
What was it with Avery and the written word? “They could be full of boring crap!”
“And they could be full of Jackson secrets!” She was already standing, her face flushed with excitement. “Come on. Let’s check.”
Alex watched El over the rim of his coffee cup, worried about her. She looked distracted, and although her makeup had been applied with her usual skill, she lacked her typical energetic glow. He knew she was worried about Reuben, just like him, but he also didn’t want to pry and upset her.
They were seated under the window on the second floor of the museum, looking out to the street below, a glimpse of the sea visible through the gaps between buildings on the opposite side of the road.
He decided to talk about one of her favourite subjects instead—weapons. “Have you had a chance to inspect those daggers yet?”
“I have!” She dunked her marshmallow in her mocha latte and popped it in her mouth, eyes widening with pleasure. “This is so good! I was so hungry, I thought I might die!”
“It’s a marshmallow! How can it possibility fill you up?”
“That’s what the cake is for, idiot,” she said, gesturing to the large slice of lemon drizzle cake beside her cup. “This is an amuse-bouche.”
“I have honestly never thought of a marshmallow as one of those before.”
She gave him a wicked grin. “It’s the sweet version.”
He laughed. “You’ve got a hell of a sweet tooth, El. You’re as bad as Reuben is with curry. Well, just about anything, really. So, what have you found?”
“Well, I popped in to see Dante earlier, and he agrees that they are late-eighteenth century. The one that was thrown at you has a double-edged blade, which is typical, and a bone hilt. Once I cleaned it up I found tiny initials on it—CG.”
“Cruel Gang?”
“Could be,” she said, forking a mouthful of cake up. “Or they are the initials of the owner’s name.”
“And the other one?” Alex prompted.
“It’s far more ornate, a walnut hilt, with some lovely engraving on it. But no initials on that one.”
Alex was disappointed. “Damn it. I’d hope we’d get some clues from them.”
El shrugged, unperturbed. “It was always a long shot. Hopefully Reuben will find something today, with Avery. She has a nose for finding things.”
“She certainly does.” Alex hesitated a moment, and then took the plunge. “Is Reuben okay? I feel horrible about Gil, and I know I upset him the other night.”
El swallowed a bite of her cake, and grimaced. “Hold on. This needs to be warmer!” Glancing around to make sure she wasn’t being watched, she held her hands above her cake and Alex felt her magic flare as she warmed it up. She took another bite and smiled. “That’s better. I can concentrate now. So, Reuben. Yeah. I think the initial shock has worn off, but it’s the other stuff that it has set off that worries me.”
Alex gripped his coffee cup. “Like what?”
El stared at her fork, as if she wasn’t sure how much to say, and then she met Alex’s eyes, resigned. “He’s doubting his magical abilities again, and is consequently disappointed with himself. He feels he’s failed Gil and isn’t living up to his family legacy.”
“That’s rubbish,” Alex said, angrily. “His magic is strong. He just needs to use it more!”
“I know! And I’ve told him that, but it’s almost like he shies away from it sometimes.” El rested her fork on the table, her cake half-finished. “It’s like he’s in denial.”
“But he’s done some fantastic spells! The fog he conjured at the circus, the spell to find the mermaids… And he never turns away from a fight. He tackled the vampires head-on!”
El laughed, despite her worry. “Yes, he did, with that ridiculous water gun.”
“He’s inventive! And I never doubt that I can rely on him.”
“But it’s not courage that he lacks,” El pointed out. “He’s strong and quick, and very loyal to us. It’s his magical self-confidence that is troubling him.”
“And he’ll only get that by using it more.” Alex groaned. “I wish I knew how to help him. He did fight off a spirit the other day, though,” he said brightly. “That must have boosted his confidence.”
“True.” El picked her fork up and speared another piece of cake. “But I think it’s more deep-seated than that.”
“I doubt it helps being in that big house all by himself.”
“Oh, he loves that! He doesn’t use half the rooms, but he really enjoys being there.” El looked at him speculatively while she chewed her cake, and when she swallowed, she said, “Do you like living with Avery?”
“I love it.” He didn’t hesitate. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done, and I’m relieved she puts up with me. I just wish Caspian would back off.”
El froze. “What’s he done?”
Alex almost choked on his coffee. “You haven’t noticed?”
“I’ve noticed that he flirts with her. But that’s okay. You flirt.”
His anger rushed back and he wished he could control it more, but Caspian annoyed the crap out of him. “It’s more than flirting. He’s made it very clear that if I wasn’t around…” He trailed off, his meaning clear.
El reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter. Is Avery flattered? Sure. Who wouldn’t be? He’s rich and good looking, and is less of a dick than we first thought. But he isn’t meant for Avery. You are. And she knows that. You two are adorable together.”
“Adorable?” Alex winced. “I sound like a teddy bear.”
“You are. In the best possible way,” she teased. “Seriously though, I get that it’s irritating, but that’s Caspian’s way.” She studied him. “Don’t you start doubting yourself, too. Or Avery. I’ve got enough to worry about with Reuben.”
He smiled, properly reassured, and saluted her. “Yes ma’am.”