Jack the Flash and the Rainbow Egg (Part 2)

Jack the Flash and the
Rainbow Egg (Part 2)

Yuu Godai

 

7

 

“Now, then,” I said, hands on my hips. “Tell us everything.”

“About what?”

We were in my Brooklyn office. We’d snatched Jeffrey away from the gangsters and brought him here roughly twelve hours ago. Presumably, the crooks had recovered from the shock of meeting the theater’s famous ghost skeleton by now—well, maybe it would take a bit more time for them to process everything. I’m sure Roderick had thoroughly enjoyed his moment in the limelight. Anyway, by now they must’ve been spread out across New York, searching for the man in the punk band T-shirt. But they didn’t know that a jeans-clad woman—well, faerie—had snatched him.

Of course, there was no way a human could enter this office or even notice it. That was one reason I’d brought Jeffrey here. Nobody, not even an alchemist or another faerie could enter if I didn’t let them in. The alchemist landlord who owned the place was a greedy son of a bitch, but, in return for brutally high rent, he did provide flawless security.

Larry was out buying himself a new jacket with what meager cash I’d managed to scrape together. With the loud-mouthed, sulky brat out of the picture, all I had to deal with was the sullen, sulky brat.

Jeffrey had been stunned silent while I’d hauled him around, but now, seated on a couch in my office, he quickly got his bearings.

He’d spent a while yowling about how he wanted to go back to Laura or freaking out about what his boss would do. After a series of empty threats, I made him go stiff and left him lying on the floor, unable to talk until he cooled off. Now he was sullenly sitting on the couch, knees bouncing nervously, glancing regularly at the leather pouch lying on the table between us.

“You oughta tell me who you are first,” he said, trying his best to snarl but failing to hide the tremor in his voice. He tried grabbing the pouch off the table, but I was faster. “Hey!” he yelped.

The pouch floated high above his head. He tried to jump and grab it, but it wafted this way and that like a balloon in the wind.

“What the heck? Some sort of magic trick? Who the hell are you? What did you do to them? That skeleton—”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s enough.” The pouch flew to my hand. Even through the dampener I could feel the magic energy coming off the bag, beating like the heart of a bird. “Remember, I’m the one asking the questions. If it weren’t for me, they’d have turned you into Swiss cheese. Only Swiss cheese don’t bleed, and you sure would have.”

That shut him up. He went red in the face and then pale. He looked from the pouch in my hand to me, and then sank into the sofa like his strings had snapped.

“I’m Jack. That’s all I’m prepared to offer by way of introduction. The original owner of this…jewel…hired me. It’s my job to recover it.”

No reason to tell this human it was a dragon egg. Jeffrey was already plenty confused.

“That led me to Laura Winfrey, and you happened to be there, Jeffrey Chandler.”

“How do you know my name?!”

I glanced at the table. A laptop appeared where the pouch had been. The screen opened, the computer turned itself on, and a number of files opened on the screen—the data the Baron had sent me.

When the laptop appeared, Jeffrey jumped like a bomb had gone off under his nose. But as the computer displayed one piece of data after another, he leaned closer until he was almost touching the screen.

“You’re kidding,” he said. “How do you have that photo? There was nobody there!”

“The walls have ears, and the shoji have eyes,” I said, a Japanese expression I’d picked up from some anime. Jeffrey just blinked at me. “In other words, no matter how hard you try to hide them, secrets always get out. Just think of me as an investigator with really good eyes and ears.”

I made a mental note to apologize to the Baron for claiming credit for his work. Didn’t want him pulling another prank on me like the other day, when everything I’d typed had started line dancing across the screen.

“My information network caught you and your girlfriend, Jeffrey Chandler. Why is Richard Diefenbaker so obsessed with Laura? Keeping her prisoner, making her sing for him, and procuring jewels like this for her?”

I tossed the pouch lightly. Jeffrey twitched like it was about to sprout wings and fly away.

“Just to be clear, no one obtains this through any legitimate channels. This is a piece that would normally never reach the world at large. So how do you have something like that? A big shot like Richard Diefenbaker oughta be able to get something equally impressive from a legitimate source without ever dealing with someone like you.”

Of course, that would be true for an ordinary jewel. No real jewel could ever compare to a dragon egg.

But to a human without magical knowledge, this egg would appear to be nothing more than an especially large, extremely high-quality opal. Most women would rather have diamonds, rubies, or emeralds. Of course, given just how much magic was concentrated in this thing, even an ordinary human would be drawn to it, unable to take their eyes off it. But buying an item of dubious origin on the black market didn’t fit someone like Richard Diefenbaker at all.

“I mean, Diefenbaker must own any number of hotels or penthouses, much nicer places. Why isn’t he keeping Laura in one of those? Wall Street kings don’t usually lock girls up in the basement and make them sing. He can buy crazy expensive presents for her, so why isn’t he treating her like a jewel? If her being on stage is such a big deal, then buy a local theater, staff and all, put a show together for her, and make Laura Winfrey an actual star—that’d be way easier. Why is she locked up in that decrepit, dirty room?”

I made another mental note to apologize to Roderick for that one. He’d helped me out, so it was low to go around insulting the theater he held dear.

“Instead, this guy hires a bunch of gangsters who drive any potential audience away. I dunno what Diefenbaker himself is after, but all that’ll do is scare the girl. What the hell is he thinking?”

“Hell if I know!”

Jeffrey had calmed down somewhat while I was talking. The tension drained out of his shoulders. He looked much smaller; maybe exhaustion had taken hold. His arms hung limp at his sides, and he sank listlessly into the couch.

“I’ve known Laura since we were kids back in Kansas. Went to the same grade school, sat next to each other. She was always good at singing.”

A dreamy look crossed his eyes, that rainbow glaze people get reflecting on the good times. My heart ached. I’d yet to have times like those.

“She always sang a solo at school concerts. Said she’d star in a musical one day, and I really thought she would. So when she went to New York after high school looking for work on Broadway, I was worried, but rooted for her. I thought she had what it took, you know? But…”

His laid-back Kansas accent slipped out from under the city-tough routine.

“I started hearing from her less. She never answered the phone. Then she stopped responding to emails. I couldn’t bear it anymore, so I told my mom I was gonna look for a job here and came to New York. But she’d quit her waitress job and was holed up in her room somewhere, and I couldn’t track her down.”

The Baron’s data had given me some of their back story.

Laura had started out waiting tables for room and board, and after she quit that she went from job to job, failing all her auditions. Occasionally she’d land a bit part, or an understudy, or get cast as a chorus member, but reality didn’t work like the movies. Cinderella stories where the God-like producer spots the talented country girl didn’t happen every day.

Meanwhile, Jeffrey had come after Laura—it could’ve been a movie title, Chasing Laura—and gotten lost in New York, both literally and spiritually. Local hoodlums kept him around as a handy errand boy, but he found no real work. After ditching the Kansas accent, he stole a few cars and picked a few pockets poorly, then got himself briefly sent to jail. The cops had a mountain of serious crimes and no time to deal with a small fry like him. Much as I hated to admit it, the Baron’s chewing gum metaphor fit with how both the cops and the hoodlums had treated him.

“So how’s a boy from Kansas get something like this?” I asked.

“I was at JFK, looking for a decent mark.”

Jeffrey shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my eyes and twiddling his thumbs.

He’d planned on snatching bags from a passenger at JFK airport and was hanging out in the lobby with a few similarly minded companions. No one gave him much credit for his actual thieving skills, so he was acting as a lookout and a mark spotter when he noticed a commotion in customs.

When people are distracted by something, they often forget about the baggage in hand. Thinking this might be his chance, he stepped closer. He saw a nondescript man sidle up to a distracted woman and slip something in her shopping bag.

Hiding valuables in innocent tourists’ luggage was a common means of smuggling items into a foreign country. Jeffrey decided it was worth the risk. He swiped the lady’s shopping bag, took it to the bathroom, and checked the contents.

“It was just a bunch of cheap crap, like chocolate, scarves, and a snow globe of the Statue of Liberty. But buried in that pile of junk was a necklace with a fabulous jewel tucked in a blue velvet box.”

Jeffrey closed his eyes, as if remembering the shock of that moment. I was starting to wonder if he might have a mild sensitivity to magic. The tinge of reverence that stole over his gaunt face didn’t seem like the right reaction for your average small-time crook.

“I’ve never seen any really valuable jewels, but I could tell this was the real deal. I stuck it under my shirt, box and all, tightened my belt to hold it steady, and ditched the rest.”

“You didn’t mention it to your friends? Quite the prize.”

“To those assholes?” Jeffrey scoffed. He seemed to surprise himself with the force of his reaction and shifted his gaze nervously. “Well, normally I would have. I guess. You’re right. But my mind went blank; I couldn’t think of anything besides the jewel. Before I knew it, I hopped on a bus and left the airport behind. I haven’t seen any of those guys since. I changed pads, laid low a while…”

He went quiet again for a minute and then appeared to make up his mind.

“Truth is, I got sorta obsessed with this necklace. Just holding the box made my whole body feel warm, made me happier than anything. Not like a high or nothing. Like when Laura and I were little and having a picnic on Father Donny’s farm, petting the foals and eating sandwiches and strawberry shortcake. Like I was riding on the clouds.” Jeffrey looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “You know what I mean?”

I did. Totally. I wasn’t a faerie for nothing.

He wasn’t exactly an alchemist, but he definitely had some level of sensitivity to magic. Otherwise, he’d never have felt this way about the jewel—the dragon egg. A human with no talent for magic would have just treated it like any other jewel, no matter how beautiful.

And I had to be grateful that the man who’d obtained the egg just so happened to be sensitive enough to have some idea of its true value. If your average pickpocket had found the necklace, the egg would have vanished into the darkness of New York, washed up in the sewers of God knows where.

“So how does Richard Diefenbaker get involved?” I asked.

“Well, I ran outta money,” Jeffrey said. He slipped his hands under himself, shifting uncomfortably. “I went uptown, hoping to earn a little something. Didn’t wanna run into my old group, so I was wandering around Fifth Avenue when suddenly…” He broke off, looking at me.

“What?” I said, sternly.

He stared at his hands, muttering, “A crow landed in front of me and spoke to me with a human voice.”

He looked at me like a child expecting to be scolded for lying. I didn’t bat an eye, which seemed to give him courage.

“It said, ‘I know what you have. I know someone who’ll pay top dollar for it. There’s no use in you holding on to it, but if you deal with me, you’ll be rich and safe.’”

I nodded. So here’s where the alchemist behind this whole mess came in. Casting spells on animals or dead things was par for the course with them.

“I freaked out a bit,” Jeffrey said. “I turned right the hell around and went back to my room. But voices talked to me there, too. Crows, roaches and mice, my curtains, empty takeout boxes… It was like some insane Disney movie.”

He licked his lips.

“At first I was so scared I didn’t know what to do, but eventually, I decided that, if I was going insane anyway, I may as well answer the crow. I was getting desperate, needed the money. Eventually, I agreed to the deal.”

“Is this the boss you mentioned?”

“I dunno if I can call him that. I don’t even know his name.” Jeffrey shook his head. “But he arranged a meeting, and the deal went down in a little fishing place near the Hudson. The place in the photo.”

I looked at the picture again, a grainy security camera still. Jeffrey was wearing his best suit and looked taller. Richard Diefenbaker’s fat face was like a stone, his men clustered all around him as he examined the necklace.

“But,” I said, adding just a touch of a growl to my voice, “that wasn’t the real jewel, was it?”

“That’s what the boss said to do!”

Jeffrey went white; he looked ready to collapse. I summoned a cup of water out of thin air and handed it to him. Jeffrey didn’t seem perplexed by where it had come from and gulped it straight down before wiping the sweat from his brow.

“He prepared the fake, too,” Jeffrey muttered, keeping his gaze firmly between his knees. “It looked exactly like the real one. Just at a casual glance, nobody would know it was fake. I put the phony in a box to give to the old guy and the real one in a special pouch prepared by the boss. In return, the boss gave me money. A lot of money.” His lips trembled. “But…but then I saw the photo in his wallet!”

“Diefenbaker’s?” I asked.

“Yes!” Jeffrey slammed the cup down on the table. “It was Laura! My Laura! Right there! All dolled up with crazy makeup, but you couldn’t fool me! I knew it was her! That dried up old fart had her locked up!

“I was planning on giving the real jewel to the boss and getting outta dodge, but the moment I saw Laura, it was like getting a glass of water thrown in my face. I remembered the reason I was even here. I’d come to New York to look for Laura! I figured this was my one chance to save her.

“So I called in some favors. Found out who the old man was and learned that he’d bought that theater and had locked Laura up in there.

I figured, if I’ve got this jewel, I can take Laura and get away. We can go anywhere we want. If I can get the money from the boss or keep the cash and sell off the necklace so no one’s the wiser… I thought we’d make more doing that.”

“That wasn’t the only reason, was it? You didn’t want to give the necklace up,” I said, interrupting him.

He shut his mouth.

“Or, more importantly, the opal,” I added.

If he had even a little magical sensitivity, there was no way he’d be willing to hand the opal—the dragon egg—to someone else so easily. This was a morally challenged, magic sensing lowlife with a rare treasure in his hands. This wasn’t something he could give up easily, no matter how much money he stood to make.

The fake this mysterious alchemist had prepared was probably pretty valuable in itself, too. He’d likely used real gems and precious metals that would pass muster as a true piece of jewelry. But nothing compared to the value of a dragon egg.

A dragon egg was a mass of concentrated magic, and more valuable than anything else on earth. Feeding a girl-crazed billionaire a lesser copy while making off with the real one was exactly the sort of scheme a shifty alchemist might come up with.

Jeffrey’s lips moved nervously.

“Take it from me, kid. You’ve stuck your neck in some business you really shouldn’t have,” I said. “The moment crows started talking to you, you should’ve dropped everything and run for it. But I am lucky you hung on to this. I’ll be keeping it, so you can hide out here for a while. I’ll talk things over with Diefenbaker and your boss and settle everything.”

“What about Laura?” Jeffrey said, tears welling up in his eyes. “You left her there!”

“Oh, be quiet! Yeah, I’ll take care of Laura too, okay? You behave yourself, kid. I do this sort of thing for a living. Once this gets back to its rightful owner, I’ll help you out, you and Laura. I’m sure my employer will approve the expense.”

“So I do have to give it back?” he asked.

“Of course!” I snapped. Jeffrey jumped and shrank against the couch like a whipped puppy. Maybe that really had been a blow. I still had a bad habit of releasing magical energy when my emotions got the better of me; not a great idea in this line of work.

“I’ll go talk to my employer,” I said, avoiding the pitiable look in Jeffrey’s eyes. “You watch the place, Jeffrey Chandler. Larry gets back, you fill him in, order some food, watch TV, play games, whatever. But don’t even think about leaving here and going back to that theater, not unless you want both you and Laura turned into Swiss cheese.”

That was enough for Jeffrey. He cringed and nodded. I didn’t place a lot of stock in the man’s moral code, but at least his feelings for Laura were real. If she was in danger, he’d stay here for now. Besides, normal people couldn’t get out of my office any more easily than they could get in.

 

“I don’t like it, Jack,” Evan Dean said. We were in his filthy office, the ashtray piled high with cigarette butts. He leaned back in his chair, resting his well-worn shoes on the desk, looking less like a lawyer (his public persona) or an alchemist (his private one) than a stereotypical gumshoe detective. He nailed the part more than I ever would actually.

“You got the goods, that oughta be the end of it. Why you gotta keep meddling? Hand the thing over and you’re done. With that special bonus, too.”

He glanced sideways at his desk drawer. It took so much effort on my part not to follow his gaze. The drawer contained something I longed for—a booklet of dreams I’d drooled over at events and on Yahoo auctions nearly every night. In my fangirl fantasies the little limited edition book, signed by the voice actors and manga artist, danced ever nearer…

I coughed, making sure my voice carried.

“Can’t do it that way, Dean.”

“What?!” He’d been leaning over the desk, but now he shoved all the way back. I waved the pouch with the dragon egg.

“This has a strong magic dampener on it. I’ve heard Jeffrey Chandler’s story, there’s a powerful alchemist pulling strings behind this mess. Until I find him and catch him, the case ain’t over.”

“We’ll think of a way to handle the alchemist ourselves,” Dean groaned. “Alchemists deal with their own problems. No place for a changeling faerie to get involved.”

“No matter what you say, I’m not handing this over to you, Dean. You may as well just report it to Lindel.”

I traced a circle in the air with my finger. The circle became a glittering gold thread that tied up the pouch. I hung it around my neck, tucking it into my bra to keep it out of the way.

“I get in quick, and I get out quick, but Jack the Flash never abandons a half-solved case. Round the whole thing up and finish it off, that’s my policy.”

“I don’t give a damn about your policy,” Dean said, spraying spit. “Gimme that thing!”

“Too bad!”

I turned and left the nicotine stench of his office. The door slammed behind me, but I wasn’t sure which of us had done it. Maybe both of us had at once. I could feel Dean’s glare boring into my back even through the door and the mountain of cigarette butts.

 

8

 

Dean certainly had a point. Actually, I was pretty sure he had me dead to rights. I’d recovered the item, which should’ve been the end. Lindel would hardly be pleased with the delay and even less pleased that I was keeping the egg at all.

But I really didn’t want to give it to Dean. I felt like placing something this beautiful in his nicotine-stained hands would be tantamount to blasphemy.

I may not be able to hand it directly to Lindel, but if I contacted him, he’d send someone to fetch it. Just as he’d explained the job in person, it only felt right to return the thing to him directly. Besides, I hadn’t yet uncovered the alchemist behind all this. As long as I kept the egg, there was a good chance I’d flush out my quarry.

I know, I admit it. I just didn’t want to let the egg go.

At the very least, I wanted to keep it a little longer. I’d accept any criticisms about unprofessional behavior. Any faerie that’s ever been drawn to the sweet honey of a sleigh beggy would understand, I’m sure. This was instinct trumping reason. No faerie could easily resist the impulse to keep pure, powerful magic at their side. Those with no self-control would snatch it and try to run. Perhaps I couldn’t blame Jeffrey for doing just that.

Feeling a little guilty, I told myself the delay was temporary. Just a few hours. I’d save Jeffrey and Laura, pop that dirty old man Richard Diefenbaker right in the kisser, then give the egg back. Let the alchemists handle the alchemist. They had some sort of council; no place for a faerie like me to butt in. If one of them had made a mockery of the ancient mage Echos and tried to swipe a powerful item for himself, the other alchemists would drag him down and punish him accordingly. The egg in my bra was beating like a second heart. I could tell my own heart was beating almost as fast.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’ll get you back to your family as soon as possible. Just hang on a little longer.”

I considered going back to the office but decided this wasn’t worth bringing Larry. He was probably still trying on different jackets, or maybe he’d swung by the game store and got caught up playing a demo. Considering Larry’s priorities, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if I got home to find him with a new game and no jacket.

Now, Richard Diefenbaker. I took out my phone and dialed a number. It rang a few times, then picked up.

“Here’s looking at you, kid,” said Humphrey Bogart’s sexy voice. “Now, what sort of help does my Ilsa need?”

“No time to joke around, Baron,” I said. “You know where Richard Diefenbaker is right now?”

“The Plaza Hotel,” he said, without a second’s hesitation. “He’s been in a condo there for over a month. Spending what anyone else would consider a sizable fortune on a daily basis, but it’s pocket lint compared to his overall worth. You gonna go at him direct?”

“More or less. Can you talk to your friends in the security system there and have them let me through? I’ll handle the non-magical side myself, but I don’t wanna trip any magical security they may have.”

“Okay. Easily done, kid.”

Baron gave a satisfied chuckle. An electronic spirit with no voice or body, when he needed to talk he used voice data sampled from movies and music. Casablanca was one of his favorites, so he’d pull out the Bogart act at the slightest opportunity.

“The security spirit there evolved from a copy of myself, so it’ll be a cinch. Oh, look at that; we already worked it out. You can waltz in. Want me to slip a meeting with him onto his schedule? I’m sure his secretary will just assume she overlooked it.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. Don’t wanna make problems for anyone if I don’t have to.”

At the Plaza Hotel, there’d be lots of magical types around. The building had quite a history, and history naturally attracts magic. The few alchemists rich enough to live here wouldn’t appreciate trouble, and if they found out I was walking around with a dragon egg, all hell would break loose.

Hmm. Trouble… A distraction… “But if you could cause some sort of commotion right when I enter the building? Nothing major. Something that’ll give me a few minutes with Diefenbaker alone.”

“Your wish is my command. Is that all you require of your humble investigator?”

Crap, he’d definitely overheard that.

“That’s all for now. And, uh…I’ll make up for that other thing. I promise.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, sweetheart,” he said, in a sexy whisper. He made a kissing noise and hung up. The Baron was somewhere on the network, hiding out in a logical construct I couldn’t begin to imagine, eagerly awaiting the show I was about to provide.

There are loads of sci-fi films about AI evolving to the point where they rebel and destroy humanity. Total slander. Spirits like the Baron all love people. Or at least, they see humanity as a fascinating mass of chaos, one that produces a flood of delicious data. Just as humans don’t kill chickens that lay eggs or cows that produce milk, creatures like the Baron would never destroy the humans that provide such good lunches and hearty dinners. I imagined Baron and the other electric loa with napkins spread on their laps, metaphorical knives and forks at the ready, licking their lips in anticipation of a four-course information meal.

I hoped that smorgasbord I’d given him wiped the slate clean on the whole investigator thing! Muttering as much, I walked north on Broadway and turned right near Central Park. The Plaza Hotel was on Fifth Avenue, not far from Dean’s office.

Slipping between fast-walking New Yorkers and slow-moving tourists, I soon saw the Fifth Ave. fountain.

I passed the rows of horse-drawn carriages, went under the world flags hanging outside, and stepped into the massive lobby. My head spun from all the magical security cast on the hotel, not to mention the massive chandeliers and elegant flower arrangements. Of course, I’d seen my share of overwhelming sights in Tír na nÓg, but this hotel was…yeah. For someone like me, who straddled the line between human and faerie, this place was something special. Human and magic societies overlapped here in the realm of dreams. People came in pursuit of those dreams and left intoxicated by them. Historical incidents and the pitter-patter of human hearts piled up here, creating magic that would rival that of any great theater.

Work had brought me here any number of times, but I’d never actually gone past the lobby. I lifted my chin, made a bored New Yorker face, and fiddled with my phone. The Baron had sent a schematic of the hotel layout along with a list of current residents. Apparently, Diefenbaker was in an eye-poppingly expensive condominium on the twelfth floor overlooking Central Park.

There was a special entrance for condo owners, but one of the alchemists had cast a personal defensive spell, which meant I couldn’t use it. Oh well. I’d figure it out once I was inside. I walked through the lobby like I owned the place, navigated the flow of guests into the Oak Bar, and headed for the elevators.

The uniformed bellboy didn’t bat an eye. As soon as I’d stepped into the hotel I’d put my feet in the faerie realm, hiding myself from human eyes. Magical or unmagical, I was definitely a suspicious intruder, but at the very least no alarms went off. No security guards ran toward me. The Baron must have made arrangements.

I hopped into the elevator, following some guests dragging trunks behind them. The elevator itself was large but no bigger than your average New York apartment building. It stopped on the eighth floor. The other guests got off, so I did, too. This was the furthest the elevator went. To get higher, you needed to be either rich or famous enough to purchase a condo, your standard capitalism-based caste system.

I stopped and looked up at the ceiling. I peered through the soothing indirect lighting, white satin, and dark oak wainscoting, scoping out the floors above. I double-checked this against my phone and saw that Diefenbaker’s condo was right above me. I put my phone away, took a deep breath, and stepped further into the faerie world. The hotel corridor around me wavered like it was underwater. I kicked the floor.

Sparkly stuff streamed past me. The forest of the faerie realm overlapped with the hotel interior. Out of the corners of my eyes, I could see the dark shadows of the alchemists’ personal protection spells.

After a brief floating sensation, my feet sank into a thick plush carpet. My surroundings snapped back into focus.

I stood in the middle of a large living room decorated in dark blues and moss greens. The furniture looked imposing. Bookshelves crowded with leather bound books covered an entire wall. It didn’t look like most of these books had been read. There was a mini bar stocked with every type of liquor, a glass of red wine on the table, classy light fixtures, and a giant window that opened onto blue skies and Central Park. A man in an expensive smoking jacket sat in a large wing chair near the window, perusing some documents with an irritated look.

There was a muffled explosion, and the sound of people screaming and running around. Guess the Baron had delivered on that distraction. At the noise, Richard Diefenbaker raised his head, saw me, and looked surprised. The documents slipped out of his hand.

“Sorry for the sudden visit, Mr. Diefenbaker,” I said.

I reached behind me, felt the door, and made sure it was properly locked. Not just with a physical lock but electronic and magical locks as well. Good; it was. The Baron’s friends were helpful.

“I’m here about the jewel you recently purchased. You’re aware it wasn’t acquired through legitimate means?”

I may have bought myself some time, but there was no telling when those gangsters would return. Diefenbaker was still frozen with shock, but I’d bet he had a few security buttons on him that he’d use once he recovered.

A guarded look swept over his pale blue eyes.

“Doesn’t seem like you used legitimate means to get in here,” he said arrogantly. He tried grabbing the black iPhone at his side. “Get out before I call the—”

The iPhone fell to the floor and slid across the carpet to me. It ran around my feet like a friendly puppy. I bent down and rubbed its head, and then picked it up and stuffed it in my pocket. Diefenbaker’s hand was still frozen in the air, his eyes fixed on my pocket.

“I’ll get to the point, Mister.”

I used his shock to my advantage. I folded my arms, looking relaxed.

“I’ve been hired by the real owner to recover the jewels you illegally acquired. I’m aware you purchased them from a boy named Jeffrey Chandler for a girl named Laura Winfrey. And I know you have her imprisoned against her will.”

Diefenbaker’s mouth opened but only a weird squeak emerged.

“As I’m sure you’ve surmised, I am not involved with the police. I have no intention of doing anything to you. In fact, I already recovered the real jewels. I’m here to negotiate the release of Laura Winfrey and elicit a promise from you to do no harm to her boyfriend, Jeffrey Chandler.”

“The real… The real jewels?” Diefenbaker’s reaction was downright bizarre. His throat bobbed several times, and he said in a strangled voice, “But…but those were real! Top quality diamonds and platinum! A real opal! I’m sure of it! I had multiple appraisals done! It’s still here! Laura hasn’t even seen it yet! It’s never left my hand!”

“What?” I said, not believing my ears. I touched my chest, making sure the dragon egg was still firmly lodged in my bra.

“I obtained it from dubious sources! You think I was fool enough to not have it appraised?”

Diefenbaker glanced at a small cabinet by the wall. I raised a finger, and the top drawer opened on its own. The blue velvet jewelry case rose from it as Diefenbaker’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. The case landed in my hand. I opened it, checking the contents. It certainly was an opal necklace. Looked almost like the real thing—obviously, except for the magic—but it was fake. Even if the jewels were real, this had no power to it at all.

“You had this the whole time?” I asked, baffled. “Then why did you hire gangsters to run around looking for the real one and for Jeffrey?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I do that? I acquired an item worth the price I paid. What more do I need?”

Diefenbaker seemed to have recovered himself a little. I caught his gaze wandering to something under the table, so I froze him to be safe. Good thing I had; his finger rested an inch from the emergency security button set under his armrest.

“What the—” he said, only able to move his mouth and eyes. “Are you… Who are you? Did you drug me?!”

“Nothing like that, don’t worry. I just want to have a peaceful conversation.” I cleared my throat. “So you believe you have the real jewel and never once suspected that someone pulled a switcheroo on you? So the armed men in black who have the theater on lockdown—”

“What?” Diefenbaker yelped, horrified. “I have nothing to do with anyone like that! Yes, getting the necklace was a risk, but I cut all ties once the deal was done. Keeping your nose clean is vital to modern business. If I were connected to anything fishy, my stocks would plummet! There’s no shortage of people looking to pull me off my throne.”

This was taking a weird turn.

I’d assumed Diefenbaker was those black-suited gangsters’ “boss,” but Diefenbaker didn’t seem to know them. He’d thought the necklace was real. In a sense, he was right about that. To anyone unable to sense magic there was little difference between a big opal and a dragon’s egg.

In which case, why were the men in black after Jeffrey? How did they know the real necklace was out there somewhere? Was another boss hiding in Diefenbaker’s shadow and trying to make off with the dragon egg? Was this boss the alchemist? But the alchemist was using Jeffrey to get away with both the egg and much of Diefenbaker’s money.

My head spun. Diefenbaker started fidgeting, so I locked him in place again.

“For starters, why did you try to purchase that necklace? Someone like you oughta be able to buy jewelry from any number of reputable sources. And it makes no sense for you to lock Laura up in that theater basement. Someone like you would normally keep a girl in a hotel or a California penthouse, take them out on the town decked in furs and diamonds. Why that necklace, that theater, and Laura?”

As I spoke, I nudged his heart. I didn’t have time to slowly thaw the thing for him. I’d expected it to feel like ice from the North Pole, but the reality was somewhat different. It was certainly cold, and covered in a hard shell, but the inside was still surprisingly soft, almost like a young boy’s heart.

Diefenbaker’s square jaw stiffened and then relaxed. His pale blue eyes looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. He blinked.

“I wanted to be a comedian,” he said, his voice low.

“A comedian?” I echoed, despite myself. “Like a stand up? Or more the juggling type?”

“All of them. Standing in a spotlight, bathing in the laugher and applause, singing merrily, doing tricks…” Diefenbaker let out a long sigh. “But I couldn’t. My father and grandfather would never allow it. We started calling ourselves Diefenbaker when my great-grandfather made all the right moves during the Great Depression. Our name was originally Byrne.”

“Byrne?” That sounded familiar.

“One of my ancestors founded that theater,” Diefen­baker—or rather, Byrne—said. He groaned. “My grandfather and father both despised that sort of thing. Said it was foolish. Uncouth. I couldn’t argue with them. Had I not been cursed with this fortune, and the burden of being their only heir, I’d have run away from home, pounded on audition doors like so many other young men and women.

“I did try once, when I was sixteen. I put on a disguise, left the house, and went to the back door of a theater. That theater. Another person owned it, but it was the theater my ancestor had founded. Of course, my father and grandfather caught me. Before I even had a chance to knock on the door, my father and his secretaries pulled up in a limo and dragged me away by my collar.”

He buried his face in his hands, like he was sixteen again.

“I can still see them, the dancing girls in their colorful costumes, filing out of the dressing rooms. My father, yelling as he pushed me out the door. Most of them ignored me, but one girl at the back of the line shot me a quick smile. Her face glittered in the lights, shining with excitement. She was blonde, with red lips…

“They packed me off to a boarding school, and later I got my MBA in economics. I was never allowed to go anywhere near show business again. Even after my father died and I took over the company, I was so busy with work I never had time to dream. Only now that I’m old—”

“You found Laura?” I said, softly. He seemed to be sinking deeper into memory. “I heard you keep her photo in your wallet.”

“No, that’s not her,” Diefenbaker said, frowning. “There’s certainly a picture in my wallet but not one of Laura. It’s the one picture of a stage dancer that escaped my father’s purge. The one memory I have of that day, a photo I bought in the lobby of the Byrne Theater.”

“Can I see?”

Diefenbaker took out his wallet and carefully removed a single worn photograph. It was an old, cheaply printed postcard, out of place in this obviously expensive leather wallet.

The black and white photo showed a smiling blonde girl wrapped in lace and feathers. She did look a bit like Laura; the round, childish face and slightly downturned eyes were close enough I could see why Jeffrey had made the mistake.

But it definitely wasn’t her, and without that makeup the resemblance would be totally gone. This girl looked like that ghastly retro poster I’d seen plastered outside the theater. If you made Laura up to look like this postcard and took a photo, well, the resemblance would be uncanny.

“I found her doing prep for a party,” Diefenbaker said, lost in his memories again. His eyes stared into the distance, dampening at the long-gone dream. “It was just like that day… Smiling girls, all so young and hopeful, their futures a blank page, the whole world in front of them. Meanwhile, I’d grown old, chained to this company and fortune and sense of decorum. I was crawling to my grave, wearing a mask with a phony smile on it. The day my father dragged me away and threw me into that limo, I was so envious of those girls. I hated them more than you can believe. All the women around me were hyenas panting after my fortune. I couldn’t stand it. I needed a girl like that. Needed the youth she had. The possibility. A future not yet written, that freedom, wings carrying her forward…”

“So why go and lock her up when you know it’ll just make her miserable?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it was a form of revenge. Against all sorts of things. Against fate, I suppose. I know it wasn’t Laura’s fault, but when she smiled at me the same way that girl had, I knew I had to make her mine. I know it makes no sense. But I felt like her potential, her world, her future were all things that should have been mine. I couldn’t bear it. The girl who smiled at me that day got to have her future, while I was dragged away in a limo.”

To him, the chorus girl he’d seen as a boy was the same as Laura: a symbol of his shattered dreams and the misery that lay behind his mask. Laura had just been unlucky enough to resemble the girl in his memories, a girl whose name he’d never known.

Perhaps some would see his unhappiness as a luxury of the rich, but none of us lead lives filled only with joy. I could sympathize with living in a dreary reality far from what I desired. I’d been the same way, both before I’d found out I was a faerie and after.

Neither life had worked out as I’d hoped, but the world I lived in wasn’t that bad. My mother’s endless conversations weren’t exactly unbearable. The worlds I dreamed about didn’t exist, but at least I’d found a place and could work to make things better.

“Why not buy that theater and start a charity show?” The idea suddenly came to me. “Rookies who want a chance to shine, amateurs who want to show off the talents they’ve developed for fun, all up on stage. You could welcome walk-ins, let old people and children who can’t normally afford the theater in for free. Scouts looking for new talent will want to check it out. You’ll have huge crowds, and nobody will notice if one or two of the comedians are getting on in years.”

“You think?” Diefenbaker’s eyes sparkled. “You know, that just might work… The company can run itself without me, and I already bought the building.” Then a shadow passed over his face. “But what will people think?”

“To hell with it,” I said. This was a certain, effective “spell” I’d used ever since I was little: to hell with anything not worth fussing about. What other people thought was always at the top of that list. “Your father and grandfather ain’t around anymore, are they?”

“Naturally! They’re both long since six feet under. I…” His eyes widened, as if making a great discovery. “I’m free!”

“Then you’d better start getting ready. That place is a mess!” I stepped away from Diefenbaker, as he looked about ready to hop out of his chair and begin tap dancing. Before anything else, I remembered the big reason I was here. “That jewel you were going to give Laura. How did you come by it? My client wants to know just who managed to steal it from him. And why did you want to give it to Laura anyway?”

“Hmm? Oh.” He managed to pull his mind out of his glittering future, frowning. “Who was it? Hmm. Right. A lawyer, I think. One of my usual lawyers came down with the flu, and the one who turned up in his place brought the offer to me. Said it was a special necklace that could really develop an artist’s talents. You know, I don’t think I’d ever seen the man before. I normally wouldn’t pay any attention to such a suspicious proposition, but he was very convincing. And, truth is, Laura’s singing isn’t very good.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know if it’s the stone in that necklace, but I thought if that could help her talent shine… And of course, I wanted to take care of her. I didn’t know how else to do that but give her gifts. Honestly, I didn’t have the faintest idea how to decorate the room I prepared for her.”

“This room seems really nice.”

“This is all the work of my interior designer. I have no eye for these things.”

Diefenbaker looked depressed again. Well, at least now I knew why Laura’s room was such an eyesore.

“And this so-called lawyer…”

Something was bugging me about this. A lawyer?

The only people who knew about the dragon egg were me, Lindel, and the alchemist behind the theft. Only the three of us—no, wait, one more. The man who’d passed Lindel’s offer to me.

Dean.

The request itself had gone directly from Lindel to me, but Dean certainly could have known the details. After all, he was the one arranging things. If he pretended he was just figuring out how much to charge, I could see him gleaning enough information to guess. This was a case big enough to warrant personal involvement from an ancient mage like Echos, and everyone knew Lindel was the dragons’ guardian. The stolen dragon egg and a request from Lindel—even an idiot could connect the dots.

I had a bad feeling about this. “This lawyer,” I said, absently fiddling with my bra. The dragon egg pulsed against my skin. “Was this lawyer—”

“Jack!” a voice yelled from my phone.

No ring tone, no sampled voices. Forgetting to use his beloved Bogart’s voice, Baron’s scream came out like a burst of white noise.

“Jack, get back here now! Your office is trashed, and Larry and Jeffrey are gone!”

 

9

 

I did something I rarely do. I jumped fully into the faerie world, knocking stunned faeries out of the way as I raced through the forest, and landed in my office. Usually I stayed out of the faerie realm because time flowed so differently there, but I had more important things to worry about right now.

I was standing on pieces of a broken plate and some leftover pizza. Fragments of crockery with congealed cheese stuck to them, a spray of brown on the wall where a can of soda had slammed into it. The couch had flipped over, a brown puddle of spilled soda spreading like a bloodstain behind it. A bag sporting a game store logo—Larry had used that money on a new game after all—had been flung to one side. The Nintendo was on, its light blinking furiously. Two controllers lay on their sides like dead mice. The game’s title screen was displayed on the TV, the words “Press Start” blinking futilely.

“Larry,” I whispered. Then I screamed, “Larry!”

No answer. I forced down the rising panic, checking every room, opening every door.

“Larry! Jeffrey! Larry, Jeffrey, where are you? Where are you?!”

Silence. Sickening silence.

My toe bumped something. I picked up a Yankees cap, the one piece of clothing Larry’d managed to keep after transforming in the theater. It lay wrong side up like an overturned turtle.

“No use. He’s gone.” Baron’s voice issued from the phone in my pocket. He’d calmed down enough to use Bogart’s voice again. Had I ever seen Bogie acting this upset? Not worth thinking about right now. “As soon as they left the place, he used some concealment alchemy. I’ve got everyone looking, sent copies of myself out everywhere, but they’re coming up empty.”

This was my office. Nothing could ever set foot in here that I didn’t let in myself. That’s why I paid such high rent.

The only people who could get in here were me, Larry…and Dean. My business partner.

He didn’t directly visit my office all that often, but it had been known to happen. As my business partner, my security would let him in. If he wanted, he could step into my office whenever he liked.

Even when he intended to kidnap my brother.

“We’ll expand the search. Hold on.”

The Baron vanished. The BGM from the TV was making me fret. I turned, and the zombie lurching across the logo melted away. A text message replaced the title screen, white letters on a black background:

I’ve got your puppies and the bitch. If you want them back:

Bring the item to Great Hill in Central Park.

Don’t use magic getting here. I’ll know.

You know what’ll happen if you don’t show up.

 

The glowing letters flickered and then slowly faded. I stared at the screen, paralyzed. Only when they’d completely faded did I yell and throw Larry’s cap. It bounced off the LCD display and fell to the ground. The TV shut off, and the screen went black.

The room was dark. I realized the sun had set. This was why I hated going through the faerie kingdom. It’d been early afternoon when I’d jumped here from the Plaza Hotel, but now it was a pitch black, New York night. Maybe jumping here had been less of a drain than taking the subway or a bus, or glowering at traffic from the back seat of a cab, but it felt like I’d wasted a huge amount of time. That killed me.

Larry. The one person like me, really like me. When I’d decided to stay in the human world, he’d grumbled about it but come along. My twin brother, always acting like a kid, always making me look after him. If it weren’t for him, I’d be truly alone. Neither my human parents nor my faerie parents had ever really felt like family. For all his griping, Larry was always at my side, ever since he’d knocked on my window that evening and shown me his wolf ears and fangs.

I couldn’t just sit here, I had to go, and now. But how? He’d insisted I couldn’t use magic to get there. And I was up against Dean, an alchemist and a traitor. He was well aware a faerie like me could hide until I was right on top of him, so he’d be ready with detection spells. Maybe he’d even left a trap behind in this room. I quickly heightened my senses and looked around, but I was too upset to do a proper investigation, much less release any traps.

Should I ask other alchemists for help? No, that was a bad idea. I had to assume he was monitoring my actions. If I didn’t show up with the dragon egg as directed, if I did anything suspicious, Larry, Jeffrey, and Laura would absolutely be in danger.

“Jack, you there?”

A knock on the window. I jumped to my feet, nearly tripping as I made my way across the darkened room. Staggering, I opened the window and saw a young, tanned centaur with dreadlocks. He looked at my face, looked at the state of the room, and his eyes widened.

“What the hell happened? A tornado hit you?” he asked.

“Vince,” I wailed, holding fast to the window frame to keep myself upright. Even by the glow of the headlights and neon signs, I could tell my fingers were horribly pale. “Vince, I got a job for you. Rush delivery.”

The words were out before I’d consciously thought it through, but as I spoke I realized this was the best approach.

“Can you give me a ride to Great Hill in Central Park? Fast. ASAP. A bad guy kidnapped Larry and my client.”

Jeffrey wasn’t technically my client, but I didn’t have time to explain the complexities.

“If I don’t go to him, three lives are in danger. Please, Vince!”

“Hmm. I dunno about that, Jack,” Vince said. He clearly knew I was desperate, but he scratched his chin and glanced at the delivery bag on his shoulder. “You know I’m just the postman. Others handle the taxi service. If I step on their turf, it’ll really piss ’em off.”

“This is a personal favor. Just think of me as a package. You deliver things that live, talk, and think all the time, right? What’s the difference if the sender herself is the cargo?”

“I don’t know if the taxi folk’ll see it that way…”

“I’m not kidding, Vince. This is serious.”

“Sorry, but rules are rules, Jack. Ask your house automousebile. I’d love to help, but—”

Vince was already backing away.

“Vincent McNeill-Windrunner!” I roared. At his full name, Vince froze, his hindleg still raised. I ran to my desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a white envelope. I dumped out the Linden leaf inside and thrust it under Vince’s nose. “How about this? The express fee and the charter fee upfront. You get a penalty from the taxi people, you can pay ’em off with that. I’m in a hurry. Get me to Central Park, now! Please!”

“Whoa!” Vince grabbed the leaf the dragon aerie mage had sent, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. “You give me something like this, I’d have to be your personal taxi for the next year.”

“I don’t have time for chit chat! Hurry! Central Park!”

“Aye aye, boss.”

I clambered out the window and heaved myself onto the centaur’s back. As I did, Vince kicked the wall, and we rocketed like a bullet across the New York evening.

“You said ASAP, right?” Vince moved his leather bag to his back and glanced over his shoulder. “This might get a bit intense. You ready for it?”

“Go for it, Vince!”

“Roger that!”

His speed increased dramatically. The view around me blurred, everything melting together, the lights turning into lines as they sped past us.

I was getting a sound lesson in just how fast a centaur could run if they wanted to. This was like a top-speed roller coaster, except we bounded this way and that, making sharp turns and sudden drops that sent us slamming into the ground. The wind was so strong I could barely breathe. I gritted my teeth and held onto Vince’s back for dear life, but it felt like my organs were being shaken so hard they’d never go back to their original locations. His bead necklaces thrashed like mad things, and the silver bits and feathers in his dreadlocks clattered wildly.

“Is that you, Lady Agent?” said a voice at my ear.

I forced my eyes open. A gentleman skeleton in a top hat floated next to me. Despite our blinding speed, he was easily keeping up with Vince without even ruffling his collar.

“Those uncouth men came and took Laura away. They were quite rough with her! I thought you should know. They may be plotting something dastardly!” Roderick cried.

“They are.” I nearly bit my tongue trying to talk. The roaring winds snatched my voice away. “They took my brother and Jeffrey hostage and are trying to get their hands on that jewel you saw—the dragon egg. I’ve got the necklace right here. They failed to get it from me, so now they’ve resorted to kidnapping.”

“Gadzooks!” Roderick’s teeth chattered, and he raised a fist in fury. “Such evil is truly beyond the pale. If it’s not too presumptuous, allow me to rally some support. At this time of night, there should be no issue with any number of us leaving our positions. I’m familiar with most of the local residents. One word from me and we’d gather quite a crowd.”

“That would help! Please do. I’ve got to get to where the villains are, pronto.”

“I shall soon return, my lady.”

Roderick touched the brim of his top hat and vanished. I was left behind in the rushing wind, pretty convinced my stomach was about to force itself out my throat. What was Roderick’s last name again? Roderick… Roderick Byrne?

“Yeehaw!” Vince howled. We’d already torn past the Empire State Building. He raced up a slanted, mirrored roof and leapt off the tip. I think that was the Bank of America building. Had anyone inside seen a centaur running up the windows, a faerie riding on his back?

Trees surrounded us. We were in Central Park now. People out for a midnight stroll or jog were scattered here and there. We raced through the rustling trees, headed north. Great Hill was in the northwest corner of the park.

“Here’s good, Vince,” I said.

I had him stop near Park West and 103rd Street. I put my feet on the ground and staggered, feeling dizzy. Vince hadn’t been able to cut loose like that in a while, and clearly it hadn’t been enough to take the edge from his energy; his hooves stamped restlessly, and his tail flicked this way and that.

“One more favor: Let some alchemist leader know that Dean is trying to pull a fast one on everybody. You probably know who’ll need that information. They’ll definitely want to stay out of anything involving Lindel.”

“Lindel?!” Vince stopped pacing for a moment, blinked a few times, and nodded. “Wow. No wonder that leaf was so powerful. Right, I think I know an alchemist who lives over on Gramercy. They find out, word’ll soon spread to the other alchemists.”

“Thanks. I’ll go face down the bad guy.”

“Careful, Jack,” Vince said, bending down. He pulled me in for a rare hug. “I mean it. You watch your back.”

Vince turned and dashed off into the city again, the treetops thrashing in his wake. I took a deep breath, waiting for my head to stop spinning, then turned toward the trees.

There was no one around. The alchemist must’ve been warding them off. Even the lights outside the park seemed dim and the air oppressive. I figured I’d have to search for Dean, but as I took one step forward, a threatening voice emerged from behind a tree.

“I said not to use magic, Jack.”

“I didn’t. I just got a ride,” I said, trying to sound dignified.

Evan Dean stepped out of the darkness, surrounded by gangsters in black suits. Bound, gagged, and blindfolded, they shoved forward Jeffrey, Laura, and…

“Larry!”

A silver cord bound his feet together. They’d gagged him, but my brother was here. He’d clearly tried to change into wolf form and fight, but they’d pinned him down. That silver cord must’ve sealed his faerie magic. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving. I felt tears welling up. How horrible!

“You brought it? Let’s see it,” Dean said.

“Hell no. Release the hostages first.”

I folded my arms and stood firmly, legs apart. Inside, I desperately hoped my backup would arrive soon. Either Roderick’s ghost army or a group of flustered New York alchemists would be just dandy. For now, I had to buy some time and wait for my chance to teach this disgusting dirtbag a lesson. The leather pouch burned against my skin.

“I should have realized why you were so insistent about me handing the dragon egg over, Dean. You heard about the egg and planned on using me to make off with it yourself. You pretended to sell it to Diefenbaker, gave Jeffrey the fake, and when you learned he’d made off with the real one, you had me fetch it, planning to slip away with it once I delivered. You think you could fool Lindel? Or were you planning on telling him I’d screwed up and failed to recover it?”

“Stop running your damn mouth off, halfling,” Dean said. Even in the dark I could see the sweat pouring down his face. “I never liked you two. You’re just changelings, but you waltz around like you own the place! ‘Jack the Flash’? Gimme a break. I’m done being yanked around by everybody! They can all go to hell! If I’ve got that egg, I can be the most powerful alchemist on earth! Lindel? An old mage holed up at the edge of the world? What can he do to me? Now gimme that egg!”

“Come and get it, if you can.”

“I’ll shoot them!” he cried.

“Then I’ll throw this egg so deep into the faerie realm even I won’t know where it is. It’ll be somewhere untouchable, packed with the kinda faeries that swarm around sleigh beggy. They’ll take it away where you can never get it.”

His underlings definitely looked nervous. Several had guns but seemed unsure where to aim. Dean had clearly hired them without explaining anything about magic or alchemy. Given what he was trying to pull, he didn’t have much choice.

“Um, Mister,” one said, unable to wait any longer. “Would you mind explaining just what’s going on here?”

“Shut up!” Dean snapped, veins in his neck throbbing. He waved a hand, and the speaker reeled backward as if punched in the face. The guy slammed into a tree and didn’t move again.

“Stay still!” he yelled, when the rest of them began backing away.

He looked at me again, his eyes bloodshot.

“Gimme that egg. Now. Give it here before it’s too late!”

“Too late, how? Hell, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not ever giving this to the likes of you.”

I pulled out the pouch and knelt down. It spun at the end of the glittering gold thread. “You come to me.”

Dean howled. He lowered his head like a wild thing and charged. Magic energy rose up within me, crumbling his spell. Dean’s chant became a roar, spell after spell growling like thunder, the magic stitched together like a quilt. The spell shattered, vanishing into the earth.

Dean knocked me aside. Naturally, he’d cast faerie wards on himself. He tried grabbing me, but I ducked under his hand and jumped backward. I looked for help from the spirits in Central Park, but he must have driven them off beforehand since none were in sight. Dean knew well enough that the spirits of nature would take my side.

I jumped and swung from a tree branch, concentrating my magic in the center of his goons. They were already shifting on their feet, and this knocked them down like bowling pins. Trussed up, Jeffrey and Laura collapsed to the ground.

“Jeffrey? Laura!” I cried.

The ropes around them fell away. They were fine; still breathing but unconscious.

I looked at the giant gray wolf lying next to them. Larry’s eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving. I tried reaching out but winced at the pain, like an electric shock. The silver cord gleamed, writhing in a threatening way. It reacted to faerie magic, absorbing and reflecting it back at us.

“Larry! Larry!”

Enduring the tingling shock, I shook the wolf’s head. Dean had bespelled his gag. It felt like touching dry ice barehanded, draining all the heat in my body, sucking my magic as well as Larry’s.

“Jack,” he groaned, his eyes opening. The golden fires in his gaze had dimmed, nearly going out. He could only open his mouth a little, and a weak boy’s voice emerged. “No. Too dangerous. Run…”

Something shot past my face as I turned. Larry let out a shriek, and his head flopped to the ground again.

His fur turned red, his blood dripping onto the ground.

The gunshot seemed so drawn out. Behind me stood a man with his back to a tree. Broken sunglasses hanging off his face, he held a gun in shaking hands.

“You idiot!” Dean shrieked. “Don’t make her mad! If you do that, she’ll—”

Me?

What about me, asshole?

I think I turned around. Probably.

It felt more like the world spun in place around me, like I was standing between two funhouse mirrors. Dean’s tense face occupied the center of that world.

An incredible wind blew in my ears. The sound of my magic faerie blood ran wild. My twin was injured, and part of me screamed with pain and terror. The pain Larry felt, the chill of the blood leaving him, gripped my heart like a vise. The dragon egg that dangled between my breasts still burned with a powerful heat.

“How dare you?” I whispered. “How dare you!”

Dean screamed something, holding a hand out toward me. Too late; I’d totally lost control. An incredible amount of magic rushed out of me, all of it directed at Dean. The air swirling around me was as cold and sharp as a razor blade. The trees shuddered, swaying to and fro erratically. My hair stood on end, the fangs in my mouth sharpening. Goosebumps covered my skin; a golden sheen coated me. I was sure my face no longer looked human.

The silver cord that bound Larry thrashed, snapped, and disappeared. His gag vanished as well, unable to absorb the sheer quantity of magic my anger had unleashed. The man who’d shot Larry screamed and threw his gun away. It turned red on the grass, melting to nothing in a matter of seconds.

But something was odd; Dean continued screaming. He should have long been vaporized like the gun, the full force of my anger trained on him. Naturally, he’d chanted a spell to fight it, but against this much magic he wasn’t nearly powerful enough to stay standing.

I realized that something was rapidly draining my magic—something other than the cord that had bound Larry. As my anger raged, I tried to see what was absorbing my power. Something close to me, right next to me. Something warm, small, pulsing…

Something floating in the air, tucked into a leather pouch around my neck.

The dragon egg.

Despite the powerful magical dampener on it, the egg shone so bright I could see it through the thick leather pouch. I tried controlling the flow of magic, but I couldn’t stop it. The edges of the pouch began peeling back.

The robin’s-egg-sized opal inside was like a beating magical heart. It was an ancient crystal of power.

I saw an entire world within its depths, a world teeming with magic. Memories woven through an eternity of experience swirled within it, taking form and unfurling.

Without thinking, I reached out my hand. The dragon egg hovered over my palm, its light blinding as it slowly changed shape.

Tiny, thin, rainbow-colored wings, transparent as soap bubbles, unfolded. Droplets of light scattered all around as a narrow head reared, delicate as a baby bird.

Its eyes were like two night skies, each containing the full breadth of the universe.

It looked up at me and opened its still-soft beak.

“Jakku?”

 

Suddenly, the sky fell.

I lost all power and fell over backward. Dean pounced on top of me. I struggled and tried to kick him, but was too weak. My body felt sticky. My physical strength had drained away with my magic. Gravity pinned my limbs with ever-greater strength, and I tasted blood.

“Jacqueline. Jacqueline, Jacqueline.” Dean smiled, or maybe his face was just so twisted it only looked that way. Grinning like a broken man, tears flowing from both eyes, he put his hand around my neck. “It’s all your fault… You ruined everything!”

I stared down the barrel of a gun, much like I’d done just the other day. But last time, an ugly, ordinary man had taken aim at me. Now it was Dean, and he looked grotesque. Hideous. His face was twisted with hatred, racked with despair. Yet he still smiled—I’d never seen anything so monstrous in all my life.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

“Die,” he said.

Several things happened at once: a gust of wind knocked Dean over; a gunshot echoed; a hot burst of air rushed past my ear.

A moment later, the Central Park night gave way to light and voices. I heard screams. Alchemists dressed in dark suits wrestled with Dean, who struggled in vain.

“Jack! You okay?”

“Are you quite all right, Lady Agent?”

Two voices. A pair of strong arms cradled me. I forced open my heavy lids and found Vince supporting me. Roderick, top hat in hand, peered down at me with concern written on his bony face.

All manner of ghosts were chasing the gangsters, looking like they’d slipped out of a horror movie. Roderick’s ghost army, frightening as could be, waved claws, groaned spookily, showed off the bullet holes in their chests, or cradled their own heads under their arms. A bride in a mud-covered wedding dress revealed a mouthful of rotting teeth and leaned toward a gangster’s throat while laughing maniacally.

“I do apologize. I’d hoped to get here a tad earlier, but that man had cast a very strange spell on the area,” Roderick said.

“It took the alchemists a while to break through it. Yo, you’re bleeding! You okay?”

Vince touched my cheek, and I flinched. His heat and magic slowly seeped into my frozen body.

They must have used some binding spell on Dean, ­because he was standing in a very odd position. The remaining gangsters had mostly fainted at the sight of the ghost carnival. The alchemists’ leader waved his arms. Those gangsters who were still staggering about collapsed onto the ground. The ghosts all grumbled, deprived of their “dance partners.”

“Jack,” Larry said. He was still stuck halfway between wolf and boy as he walked barefoot across the grass to me. He looked the same as the day he’d first tapped on my window. Blood mingled in the fur on his chest. He had a hand to his neck, a look of pain on his face.

“Larry! You got shot?” I cried.

“It’s okay now. Just haven’t washed off the blood yet.”

He pulled his blood-covered hand away. There was just a faint wound from where the bullet had grazed him.

“Um, Jack? I, uh…”

I took a few unsteady steps and more or less fell on him. “Whoa!” He staggered, but his wolf strength kicked in, and he managed to catch me.

“I’m sorry, Larry,” I whispered. My nose was buried in his pointy wolf-ears. My brother’s hair smelled faintly of the forest. “I’m sorry…”

Larry put his arms around me and gave me a comforting pat on the back. “Don’t worry about it. We’re twins. Changelings. But…”

“But?”

“I’d really like the money to buy another jacket.”

Vince and I both busted up laughing. Roderick looked back and forth at us, confused. He quickly summoned the most mischievous look his skull allowed and clapped his hands dramatically.

“Jack the Flash,” said one of the approaching alchemists. He seemed like the leader. Didn’t look any different from your average human, but he’d clearly been dragged out of bed and was both sleepy and grumpy. “One of our number was behind this mess. Based on the contract in place, our college and the mage Lindel will handle the rest. As for you…”

I just walked away. He gaped after me. I stood in front of Dean, who glared sullenly back.

I swung my arm.

There was a loud thwack. Dean’s head rolled back, his nose bleeding. The alchemists holding him had to adjust their grip.

“Like I said,” I hissed. “You call me Jacqueline again, I’ll knock your head off.”

The sounds around me faded. Warm darkness hovered on my periphery. Vince and Larry ran over as my body sank. I smiled and closed my eyes.

“Jack! Hey!”

“Jack the Flash…at lightning speed.”

Super cool.

 

10

 

“Jack!” Larry wailed. “He ate all the sesame seed balls! I only got three!”

“Is that any way for a big brother to talk?”

“I never agreed to be this thing’s brother!”

I sighed. A bundle of crow feathers lay spread out on the desk before me. As I undid the dried grass and ­waggled my fingers, every feather morphed into a pale, crow-shaped shadow. Sparkling, they flew out the window. Twilight had already come to New York.

Next, I touched my fingers to a stone, one swirled through with blue light and brown storm clouds. The storm was released; a dust-and-dry-leaf-scented wind brushed past my nose, and the stone spoke in a creaky voice.

I opened a box filled with stationary, my letterhead stamped on every page. I began taking a brandy-colored piece of amber out of the box but thought better of it. No need for me to stoop that low. Instead, I selected a piece of pale pink rose quartz and tapped it lightly to the stone. The quartz sparkled faintly, the rose-colored light permeating the stormy depths. When I pulled it away, the storm stone was entirely pink, with a six-pointed star indicating apology and friendship floating on the surface.

I headed over to the windowsill, intending to leave the stone there so I’d remember to send it off with Vince, when something landed on my head. Something about the size of a large pigeon, only light as a feather.

“Hey!” I scratched his throat. “You stuff yourself like that and you’ll get a tummy ache, little one.”

“Jakku.”

His supple tail tapped my shoulder affectionately. The creature stretched out his neck, peering into my face. He had a sesame seed ball clutched in his mouth, and as I watched he tossed it into the air, caught it, and swallowed it whole. Dark eyes ablaze with the light of universes stared back at me.

 

Ultimately, I never got my special bonus. Evan Dean—that villain—must have decided there was no point in handing such treasure over to the otaku faerie he planned on killing anyway. He’d sold the pamphlet for chump change at a comic shop downtown.

Lindel and the alchemists offered to buy it back for me, but after a lot of soul searching, I refused. I’d managed to solve the case, but every time I’d look at the pamphlet and the characters’ adorable, smiling faces, I’d remember Dean. I didn’t need that, and taking a bonus for a job I hadn’t exactly wrapped up would hardly make me the most honest faerie around.

However, I couldn’t call the job a total failure either. Richard Diefenbaker—or rather, Richard Byrne—had properly apologized to Laura Winfrey, paid her a substantial amount for her distress, and released her. He’d done the same for her boyfriend, Jeffrey Chandler.

He’d offered both of them jobs at the new theater he planned to open, the Byrne’s Family Theater. They’d declined, electing to return home to Kansas.

“My great-uncle Henry needs more hands on his farm,” Jeffrey said, as I saw them off at the bus terminal. He’d gotten himself a respectable haircut, replaced the punk band T-shirt with an open-collared white one, and definitely cleaned up nicely. Laura had ditched the poisonous lipstick and pancake foundation for some pink lip gloss and a few light touch-ups. She was wearing a blue sundress and flats with straps, seemingly so happy she looked like a different person altogether.

“He’s ninety-two, and his back can’t even handle riding around in a tractor anymore. Great-Aunt Susannah’s arthritis is getting pretty bad, so they’re only too happy to have some young folks come help out.”

“We both decided New York just wasn’t for us. Thanks to you,” Laura said, bashfully.

“This wasn’t exactly the emerald city for us, but at least there was a wizard here. A real one. I know we’ll think of you any time we see that movie.”

“You could have taken a plane, you know,” I said. I was a faerie, not a wizard, but I didn’t bother correcting them. There was little point in explaining the distinction to two kids in love. “I’m sure Diefenbaker gave you enough to cover the tickets.”

“Yes, but we wanted to take the bus. Take our time. Honestly, if we could, we’d love to walk home, savoring every step.”

They looked at each other and giggled, as if sharing a secret.

“But it’s a bit too far to walk. At least buses stay on the ground, so we’ll take the journey to free ourselves of everything we’ve picked up here and think about how to move forward.”

“Together?”

“Exactly.”

Their fingers twined, and their hands clasped together. I felt sure they’d make it work. That required no magic. Love was all the magic they needed.

“Shame the road isn’t paved in yellow bricks,” I said.

“But we aren’t going anywhere but home. Back where we came from. To Kansas!”

Laura looked up at the clear blue, May skies, smiling. She spread both arms out as if trying to hug the world.

For an instant, I was incredibly jealous. I felt like I understood why that old man had wanted to grab her and lock her away. They had something I didn’t—a home. People to call family. A place where they really belonged.

As a changeling, I barely had any of those things.

“I don’t think New York’s an awful place,” Laura said. “This is my Oz, I suppose, the magic land at the end of the rainbow. So many strange, enchanting, surprising things here, but, in the end, the fields and pastures of Kansas are where I belong.”

“Right.” If only I could say anything with such confidence. Ignoring the thorn prick in my heart, I wished them well. They’d return home, where they belonged. Meanwhile, I was caught between the faerie and human realms, with nowhere to go.

“If you want to go home—”

“Then close your eyes and tap your heels together three times.”

“And think to yourself, there’s no place like home.”

All three of us tapped our heels together, and the bored crowd on the benches around us looked surprised and then laughed. The bus arrived. Laura cried a little, there were hugs all around, and the two of them were off on their long road to Kansas, trailing exhaust fumes in lieu of a wedding veil.

The Baron was in a deep sulk. Dean had placed jammer devices all around our meeting place to keep the electric loa out, so, as a result, the Baron had missed the entire climax. He’d compared it to having a main course taken away and being forced to make do with a single sardine.

But he admitted I’d had no way of knowing what Dean had done and that this wasn’t my fault. He was pissed someone else’s cavalry had hogged the limelight, but at least he understood he couldn’t take it out on me. Currently, he was hellbent on figuring out how to keep his network going through any and all types of jammers. I guess that meant we were even.

Vince had really enjoyed getting to use his top speed and asked if he could be my personal taxi for the rest of the year. I politely turned him down; riding a roller coaster with no seat or safety bar across the New York skyline was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Instead, he offered half the usual rate on express parcels and his messenger service. This was far more useful.

Roderick was delighted, too. His descendant had had a change of heart, refurbished the theater, and brought in staff and customers for Roderick to look after. Given the chance to be the power behind the scenes again, he was positively giddy.

“I may be getting on in years, but you’re never too old for the arts!” he’d declared when I stopped by to thank him.

His theater had been beautifully renovated, polished up, and given a sign that proclaimed Byrne’s Family Theater.

“I’m over 200, you know! Yet I’m as fit as a fiddle! My descendant certainly has a great deal to learn about the arts, but…”

He glanced over at Diefenbaker, who was clumsily practicing his juggling.

“That’s life for you, my boy! Welcome to the stage! I salute you!”

 

Parts of it had turned out well. The rest…not so much.

Lindel sat across from me in my office. I wanted to run for it.

“Hmm.” Technically, he was a projection. The real Lindel was back in the dragon aerie in Iceland. “Oh, dear,” he sighed.

The source of Lindel’s consternation was happily sitting on my head, his wings spread, his belly flat against me, his head raised—a favorite pose.

The joints on his wings boasted small claws, which allowed him to get a firm grip on my hair. His neck and tail were long and supple, tracing graceful arcs. His tiny head had golden horns and a beak like a songbird’s. In the midst of all this glittering gold, platinum, and rainbows were two incredibly deep, black eyes, always looking around with innocent curiosity.

“I’m sorry, Lindel,” I said, feeling like a kid brought before the principal. “Um, I never thought this would happen. I can’t believe the egg actually hatched. And the hatchling, um…saw me as…”

“Oh, that’s fine, don’t worry. I’m well aware you’re not to blame,” Lindel said, rubbing his temples. “If someone like Dean had hatched the egg, it would have been far worse. One reason this type of dragon is so rare, Jack, is that they have a particular quirk.”

He pointed his wand at the top of my head.

“They’re heavily influenced by the source of magic closest to them during incubation and are born with a very strong connection to it. Most of the time the mother dragon would be in that position, of course. And, obviously, dragons are usually untamable by any mage, alchemist, or even faerie. But that hatchling…”

The purring hatchling stared at the tip of Lindel’s staff, his head tilted to one side like he was puzzled.

“As an egg, it spent a long time pressed against your skin, incubated by the magic you give off. That hatchling is now closely linked to you. I’m guessing Dean was hoping to do just that, which would have given him access to incredible magical power. But because he pissed you off, you ended up forming a bond with that dragon first.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, thoroughly cowed.

“So, little one.” Lindel held out his hand to it. “Could I ask that you come stay with me? There are many of your kind here, including your brothers and sisters. Your current home isn’t the safest place for a dragon. I know you don’t want to leave Jack’s side, but I’ll do what I can to help. What do you say? Any interest in a peaceful, quiet life, somewhere safe with others of your kind?”

The hatchling lifted his long neck. Six hatchlings—his siblings—gathered around the projection, sitting with Lindel.

They were each much bigger than this hatchling. Compared to the large-ish, pigeon-sized creature on my head, they were already the size of calves. Their bodies were more bronze than platinum, and the rainbows on their wings less vivid as well. The dragons seemed to recognize their youngest sibling and called out to us like a chorus of low-pitched bells echoing in a distant valley. It brought tears to my eyes.

The hatchling seemed like he wanted to answer their call. He opened his mouth, raised his head, widened his eyes, and took a deep breath.

But no voice emerged. He shut his mouth, blinked, and buried his head in my hair again. His little claws clutched me tight.

“Jakku.”

“Sounds like a no,” Lindel said, lowering the staff with a sigh.

“Lindel, um…”

“This is a first,” he said, shaking his head. “Perhaps I might have found a means of handling this in the information lost during the great war, but… Jack, I have no idea how to wean that hatchling off you or how it would affect him if I tried forcing you two apart.”

“Right.”

“But as the one charged with protecting the dragon aerie, all matters related to dragons are my responsibility.”

“Right.”

“Can I trust you, Jack?”

“Yes?” I said, surprised. “Um, you mean…I can keep him?”

“What choice do we have? Until we figure out a way to wean the hatchling off you without harming it, we have to leave it with you.”

Lindel put both hands on his staff, looking me right in the eyes.

“My desire is that the dragons remain safe and free. It’s been some time since they were safe in the world of man, but I have never once thought of the dragon aerie as the only place they could be happy. What’s important is that the hatchlings live in peace and harmony. If you can treat it right and protect it, then it doesn’t matter where it lives. That’s what I mean when I ask if I can trust you.”

“Of course. Um, I’ll do everything I can, but…it’s a big job.”

“Naturally, I’ll help in any way I can,” Lindel said, giving me an appraising look. “Are you not sure you’re up to it? Or is the responsibility getting to you? Well, perhaps the best plan is for you to move to the dragon aerie and remain trapped here until one of you dies. What do you say?”

A chill ran down my spine. He was smiling, but there was no mirth in those green eyes.

If he genuinely thought that was the best course of action, he would have already taken the hatchling and me without giving either of us a choice. Lindel was the dragons’ protector, their guardian; for all his talk of freedom, he could be incredibly stern, and he expected the same fortitude and responsibility from others. I had no idea how he’d become the aerie guardian, but, as a mage, he instinctively craved freedom. The decision to hole up at the ends of the earth must have taken more struggle and self-doubt than I could ever imagine, but he had persevered through that hardship and passed swift and decisive judgment on anyone who would interfere, be they human or faerie.

“I think I will trust you for now, Jack the Flash.” The Icelandic chill vanished from his tone, and he leaned back against the rock as if exhausted. “I’ll prepare a spell that will allow me to monitor the hatchling’s condition at all times. That way, I’ll know at once if anything occurs. Oh, and we’ll need a plan to deal with anyone unscrupulous who makes a play for him. And a way for the hatchling to escape human attention in such a crowded city.” He let out a long sigh, deflating. “My head hurts just thinking about it.”

“Sorry.”

I felt like that was becoming my sole response to anything. I glanced up at the creature on my head, and he looked back at me. I would love nothing more than to avoid shouldering a burden like this, would love to wash my hands of the whole thing. But once the dragon guardian made up his mind, I knew I couldn’t refuse.

 

“Are you listening, Jack?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Larry was still griping about the Chinese delivery. I put the rose quartz back on the desk, closed the window, rubbed the hatchling’s warm belly, and sat down in front of the steaming food. The hatchling flapped its wings and began wheeling through the air, waiting for his chance to swipe another sesame seed ball.

“No more!” Larry hugged the box of them to his chest, ready for war.

The hatchling thrashed his tail, annoyed. “Jakku.”

“No fighting, kids,” I said, getting a headache of my own. Was there anything we shouldn’t let dragons eat? Onions? Chocolate? Or was that dogs and cats? Clearly, sesame seeds and mochi seemed to be okay. If there was a problem, we’d hear from Lindel soon enough.

“All right! You can have my annin tofu and some of my egg tarts. But only two! Not three!” I said.

“You oughta give me three, you miser,” Larry sulked, glaring at me. “I’m the one who asked for sesame seed balls!”

“And I’m the one who paid!” I snapped, glaring back.

A silent war raged between us. I lost.

“All right! Three. But the cashew chicken and Sichuan crab are all mine!”

“Yes!” Larry yelled, his chopsticks already moving the food to his plate. The hatchling seized his chance and swooped, grabbing a sesame seed ball before flying away. He landed on my shoulder, nibbling on the ball like a squirrel with a walnut, and eyed Larry’s seafood chow mein.

Larry’s fluffy wolf ears twitched happily. Savoring the sweet and sour sauce on my chicken, I watched him eat his noodles. The hatchling lined up a new target now that he’d had his fill of sesame seed balls.

As I ate, a real feeling of warmth welled up. It was almost a ticklish sensation, like little bubbles rising up and popping inside of me. Larry used his chopsticks to keep the dragon away from his seafood and shot me a strange look.

“What, Jack?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

My family, where I belonged.

Everyone should have a place like that. I was a faerie cast adrift in the human world, unable to ever truly fit into either realm.

But at the very least, right here, in this room, with these two bickering kids, I was at peace. Both of them called my name, fought over scraps, argued over how to split the egg foo young, squabbled over nothing… This was where I belonged. This was my family.

I kept myself going so I could live here with them.

Jack the Flash moves like lightning.

Super cool.

 

The End