“We’ll see,” he said.
We arrived at the county lockup. It was a small building that sat away from the road—one of those places you’d pass by without noticing. There were only a few streetlights that illuminated the building. Around us, the dark forest stood watch, hulking trees hiding the stars.
The officer led me outside his car and toward the front entrance. Cold air bit at my skin, and sharp gravel poked the bottom of my feet through my slippers. When we made it to the door, he punched a button and, following a loud buzz, shoved it open. His grip tightened around my arm as he led me to a small office, where he and a few other officers proceeded to take my fingerprints and issue me a set of standard jail clothes.
I supposed I should have been frightened that I was getting booked—and an arrest wouldn’t look good on my record for sure—but I had to keep from laughing as they finally finished up and locked me inside a cell.
Magic played on my senses, buzzing in my ears and throbbing through my fingers. If I wanted, I supposed I could have just blasted my way out of the place. I could’ve burned it to the ground if I’d wanted. But burning down a government building would look even worse on my record. If I wanted to get out of here, I’d have to play it smart.
I scanned my surroundings—the open, stainless steel toilet, a thin mattress atop a bedspring bolted to the wall, and a tiny sink. No windows, of course, only cinder-block walls. As I sat on the edge of the mattress, the desire to torch the place welled up inside me once again.
The bed in my trailer hadn’t been much to brag about, but at least I’d had my own sheets to lie on and my cat to keep me company. I forced myself not to breathe as I lay on the mattress, the acrid scents of sour sweat and urine embedded in the worn, scratchy fibers.
I stared at the ceiling, feeling as if the bloodthorn were mocking me. He was the puppet master, we were his puppets, and I didn’t know of any way to cut the strings tying me to him.
The thought nagged at me that perhaps Brent was wrong. Perhaps I wasn’t safe here at all; perhaps the bloodthorn had me precisely where he wanted me.
I drifted off until the sounds of an irate female voice woke me. Standing, I walked the short distance from my bed to the door and looked through the small, barred window. I was surprised to see both Kull and Heidel standing at the front desk with several officers surrounding them. Kull stood straight and unmoving, staring ahead as if the sound of his sister’s rant didn’t bother him.
Heidel yelled at a police officer, but her screaming was cut short when Officer Gardener entered the room and escorted them both to an office away from me.
Nervousness knotted my stomach. With Kull and Heidel both in custody, the bloodthorn had the advantage. Rolf and Brodnik would hopefully be able to guard the fairies as their search for the stone continued, but how long could that last?
I lay on my cot once again, feeling helpless. If my suspicions were correct, the bloodthorn would have used the energy from Madame Glitter’s death to charge the gemstone. Chances were he was even closer to returning to his own realm. I couldn’t let that happen. If it did, then it was only a matter of time before the fairies suffered the same fate as the unicorns.
I paced my cell as sleep escaped me, wondering if I shouldn’t just blast my way out and be done with it, when a quiet knock came at my door.
One of the security officers stood outside. Her keys jangled as she unlocked the door and then opened it. She stood a little shorter than me, and her dark blue uniform bulged at her hips and around her waistband. She didn’t meet my eyes as she spoke to me.
“You’re being transferred,” she said.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
I eyed her. “But it’s the middle of the night. Are detainees usually transferred at such an unusual hour?”
She shrugged. “It’s not typical, no. But they want you back at the fairgrounds. Didn’t tell me why, so don’t bother asking me questions. Put your hands behind your back and turn around.”
I did as she said, still puzzled at the odd change in protocol. Maybe Brent had convinced them I could help with the investigation. I’d given him some decent leads so far, and if Madame Glitter had been murdered in the same way as the other two men, then they may have wanted my help deciphering the cryptic message of the flowers that had most likely been left in her eyes. There was no way to know for sure except by going back and learning for myself what it was they wanted.
Officer Gardener waited for me. He escorted me to his patrol car, and I climbed inside. He didn’t speak as he drove me back to the festival grounds. A nervous feeling nagged at me. This whole situation seemed odd, but I didn’t know enough about law enforcement to decide if something was actually wrong or not. Maybe it was time I asked for that lawyer Brent had suggested.
We arrived back at the fairgrounds, but instead of parking in the designated area, we drove past the main gates, past the camping area, and onto a narrow gravel road that cut through the forest.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I’ve been instructed that you’re necessary to an ongoing investigation. Security at the festival requested your assistance. We’re going to the main security headquarters.” After a pause, he added. “Wherever it is.”
We drove in silence for several minutes. When the officer slowed the car, pulled into a farmhouse’s driveway, and then turned around, I was certain
