The Deer Prince's Murder: Book Two of 'Fantasy & Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 2) (13 page)

“Okay, then,” I said, looking at him straight on, “why can’t you deliver dreams at night?”

Destry shied a bit. When he spoke, his voice was soft, embarrassed.

“The truth, Dayna…is that…
I am afraid of the dark
.”

Chapter Sixteen

Until that moment, I never thought that a big, scary-looking equine could look ashamed. Especially one from a breed that had ‘delivering bad dreams’ as their
raison d'être
. But the way Destry hung his head and lightly stamped his feet made it clear that he wasn’t happy at all with the way things had turned out for him.

And the irony of his problem wasn’t lost on either of us.

“It crosses my mind much,” Destry stated. “What use am I, when the very core of my self turns to jelly and quakes at the thought of moving but a single step in the dark?”

I took a seat. The lab equipment hummed away, heating the test sample and sniffing it for chemical traces. The smell of warmed-up plastic curled up my nose, and I breathed it out before it made me sneeze.

“What about when you appeared in my room?” I asked. “It was pretty dim in there, and yet it didn’t seem to bother you.”

“It did, but not enough to truly unnerve me. Only in the complete and true darkness of the night does it reduce my stallionhood to trembling fear.”

I gave some thought to the experiences of my friends. Considered how there might be a hint of how to deal with this. Shaw’s issue had revolved around age; Destry was fairly young, so it didn’t sound like there would be a parallel. Like the pooka, Liam had also lacked a critical magical component of his species, but he’d been driven into exile. Destry’s people were still trying to help him, so that was out. And then there was Galen. The centaur’s issues involved bad experiences with his Dad about his chosen discipline. It still wasn’t much of a match, but I tried to follow up along the same lines.

“Destry, did you ever have a bad experience involving the darkness?”

“Ah, yes. Every single time, there was a bad experience.”

“Actually, I meant: when did you become afraid of the dark?”

He cocked his head to look at me. “I do not understand. The darkness is as always, no?”

“No. I mean, yes,” I said, trying to keep up with the pooka’s distinctive speech patterns. “Yes, the darkness is always…well, dark. But you couldn’t always have been afraid of it.”

“
Pourquoi pas?
”

He had me there.
Why not
, indeed. “Maybe I’m looking at this from the wrong angle.”

“Perhaps. I hope you do find this right ‘angle’. Otherwise…it seems that my sire and my dam will have no choice but to unmake me. It seems sad to me, when there is so much I feel that I have not partaken of in life.”

Destry pawed at the floor again. I felt for him; I had no idea what ‘death’ would be like for a creature like a pooka. But while Galen’s father had disowned him, there had been no talk of ‘unmaking’. And that stuck in my craw something fierce.

“Have faith,” I said firmly. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

“One hopes not.” I could have been imagining it, but Destry looked halfway hopeful. “Dayna, I am curious as well: why do my elders think you can help me?”

“Well, they said I was a woman of science…but I don’t think that’s really it.”

“No?”

This time I shook my head. “It’s because the story’s gotten around that I helped a centaur, a griffin, and a Fayleene overcome similar obstacles. They’re good friends of mine now, and they’re a crack team I can call upon when I need them.”

“Then I am reassured. Maybe the elders made a good choice putting me in your hands,” Destry said, with a bow and a nicker. He raised his head and added, “Someone approaches who knows you. I see your image in her mind.”

I glanced to one side and saw Shelly enter the Chem Lab. She spotted me and made her way over quickly, a wicked smirk on her face. She leaned an elbow on my section of counter space as she spoke in a conspiratorial tone.

“Word’s going ’round the department like fire in dry grass! I’m hearing that Bob McClatchy came on to you, or at least said something nasty. They say that he’s got to sit in on sensitivity training again or he’s out of the running for Chief of Police!”

“Ah, the infamous ‘they’, again.” I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t all that everyone’s making it out to be.”

“That may be.” Shelly’s face got serious. A quick glance confirmed that the lab had gone empty for a little bit. “But make no mistake, you just made yourself a grade-A enemy, Dayna. Watch your back, is all I got to say.”

I nodded. “That’s becoming my personal motto as of late.”

One of the gas analysis machines chose that moment to go
ping
as it finished its task.

Shelly looked at the machine, and then back to me. A frown creased her face.

“You’ve been reinstated what, half an hour ago? How is it that you’ve already got a case to work on?”

“It’s complicated,” I hedged. “Sort of a private matter.”

“That was a bad answer,” Destry reproached me. “Your friend, she knows you are lying, but she does not wish to report you out on this.”

“It’s okay,” Shelly said. She straightened up, tugged off her pince-nez glasses and let them hang by the chain about her neck. “You don’t have to tell me anything. But just remember: I didn’t go to school on the short bus, and I ain’t blind, neither.”

I stood too. Reached my hand out to touch her arm. “Shelly, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No one ever ‘means to’, Dayna.”

“Look, I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me,” I said sincerely. “This just isn’t the right time for me to lay all of my cards out. When it is, I promise you’ll be surprised.”

“Well…” now it was Shelly’s turn to look halfway hopeful. “Does it involve that hunky friend of yours showing up again?”

“As a matter of fact, it does.”

“Then I can wait for that blessed day.” Shelly gave my hand a friendly squeeze before she walked off, heels clicking loudly in the sudden silence of the room.

“That one, Shelly,” Destry said, “she cares for you like
a petite fille
– how you would say, a ‘little daughter’?”

“If so, then I’ve been a pretty poor one,” I sighed. I hit the ‘print’ button on one machine, and then the others as they began to spit their results out in long spreadsheets of chemical signatures and equations. Destry craned his long neck over my shoulder to see some of the diagrams.

“I wish I knew what these symbols meant,” he complained. “But do you have what you were looking for?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, as I picked up the small bunches of paper. The sheets felt warm in my hands, still a touch moist from the printer. I grabbed a nearby paper-clip holder and shook out a couple of the larger clips. “Destry, I take it that you can follow me on your own if I return to Andeluvia?”

“
Mais bien sûr
, it is what my kind do. Shall we leave this instant?”

I frowned as I read the readouts on the top sheet. “No. I need to go home one more time.”

“Ah. Another change of clothes, perhaps? This time, I shall face away, resolutely.”

“Yeah, another change,” I said, as I got up. “And to get my shoulder holster.”

“You expect some serious problems?”

“Maybe.” I ruffled the papers in my hand. “Like my friend Shelly said, I had better start watching my back.”

* * *

I arrived in the tower room of Fitzwilliam’s palace with a flash-bang of light and a heave of my stomach. Before I even had time to stumble, I felt a strong, warm wall of hair press up against my side to steady me. I clutched at it as I blinked, and then straightened up.

“Don’t worry, I have you,” Liam’s voice said. Once he was sure that I would remain upright, he took a step back. He glanced at my attire of slacks, no-nonsense blue work shirt, and a dark brown leather jacket. “I like your latest outfit. It reminds me of the one you wore when we took down Magnus.”

“Thanks,” I said, though I’d chosen the attire to handle the Andeluvian weather, as well as to help hide the shoulder holster. I broke out in a smile as I gave him a closer look. “You’ve grown some more!”

“Indeed,” he said, somewhat abashedly. He pawed the stone floor in front of the darkened hearth, where the fire had been put out. “I only hope that I
stop
growing before I get beyond my prime.”

“I somehow doubt that. This magic seems to know what it’s doing.” Liam’s legs had lengthened, boosting his height another couple of inches, and his torso had continued to fill out. The fourth tine on his right antler had completely grown in, and the ‘buds’ on his left had begun to reach out, like stems on a plant.

“Were you able to make any headway on our problems?” he asked.

“I think so. And thanks to Galen’s summoning, we’ve got someone new to work with: one of the
pouquelaye
. I think this world calls them ‘pookas’.”

“One of the ghost horses?” Liam’s ears perked up in that damnably cute way of his, showing his interest. “How marvelous! They are fabled, mystical creatures!”

He paused as the air rippled with a faint
whoosh
. Suddenly, Destry shimmered into existence at my side, black and huge and silent. Liam gaped at the creature’s flaring mane and fierce, blank yellow eyes.

“That is quite the
hommage
, Heir to the Protector,” Destry intoned. “Yet I cannot help but feel amused. To many others of your world, it is the
Fayleene
who are the fabled, mystical creatures.”

“And for pretty much everyone in my world,” I added, “you are
both
fabled creatures. As are our centaur and griffin friends.”

“You’ll like them,” Liam put in. “Our centaur is an Archmage-class wizard. The griffin’s more of a typical specimen for his kind. Very friendly. ‘Hello, nice to meet you, you certainly look delicious this morning. I wonder if you are chewy or crunchy’.”

“Methinks I am being profaned!” Shaw’s voice boomed in from out in the hall. With a clatter of talon and hoof on stone, the griffin entered the room, followed on his heels by the centaur. They both halted to take in the sight of our newest arrival.

“Magnificent!” Galen said, and he gave a sweeping bow. “I was not at all sure that my efforts to summon assistance would be answered. I underestimated the generosity of your elders, kind pooka.”

The pooka and I traded a glance at that, but I decided to push on. I began with introducing everyone to Destry, and then turned the introduction back onto our new equine member. “This is Destry, of the
pouquelaye
. His involvement with us is part of a deal brokered with his people. In exchange for his help, I in turn will be looking into some...well, some ongoing difficulties he has with his job.”

“Thou hast come to the right place,” Shaw said encouragingly. “One only wishes for better timing. A murder most foul has come on the heels of a dragon problem involving yon fair stag here.”

There came a knock at the tower room’s open door. A human servant decked out in a red and black doublet peeked fearfully into the room. I suppose it was understandable. Truth be told, at least three members of our group did look more than a little imposing.

“Sirs?” he inquired, “We, ah, were summoned by the court wizard to bring food up to the tower room.”

“I took the liberty of requesting a noontime repast to be brought here,” Galen explained. “At least three of our members have traveled a great distance to be here, and I haven’t broken fast since the fall of yesterday evening.”

A trio of servants hurriedly brought in their wares. A large silver platter heaped high with what looked like green and purple lawn clippings was placed in front of Liam, who began to dig in without hesitation. An entire side of beef, flame-singed around the edges but dripping blood, was brought in on a long pole and shunted onto an even larger platter for Shaw. The griffin pounced on the meat and began tearing strips of it away with his stout beak. Finally, a set of smaller trays was placed out on the table for Galen and me. A set of freshly roasted skewers featuring slightly more cooked chunks of beef, mushrooms, and onions sat on one; small rounds of soft cheese and sliced bread were piled in a decorative pyramid on the other.

Two open tubs of sparkling fresh water with lumps of ice in them were placed next to the Fayleene and the griffin. Pitchers of cool, unsweetened tea and startlingly sweet wine – which Galen called ‘summer table crush’ were set on the table along with a set of metal utensils and cups. I poured myself some tea and stabbed a chunk of roasted onion to munch on, using one of the two-tined forks the Andeluvian court apparently favored.