“Accident,” Felah Fyre said. She was a newer inductee of the Order, but Tone was letting her take the lead on this case. The nerves were getting to her, despite this one seeming like it would be easy.
“Too late for Never Was, Never Will Be,” Tone said. He squatted down next to her. The pants he wore stretched at the seams. As he got lower, a half-eaten Ho-Ho spilled out of his breast pocket. He picked it up and shoved it into his mouth, cream smearing all over his cheeks and bits of brown cake collecting in his collar.
“Can’t you wait?” Felah asked.
Tone shrugged. “I’m hungry, besides, I’m not technically on the job. This one is all yours, rookie.” He clapped her on the back.
She growled at the gesture. Tone really loved to shove it in Felah’s face that she was new to the Order of the Silver Griffins. It seemed like everyone loved to do that. She was determined to prove that being new didn’t mean being useless.
As soon as word had reached their division about the detection of magic, Felah did some digging on her own.
She’d already figured out the perpetrator before they’d gotten to the putt-putt course. Most of it was luck. She knew Ignatius from Salem’s Ice Cream Shop; her and Salem went way back. The place had bitchin’ ice cream, that much was true, and Ignatius was apt to share all kinds of things about his granddaughter. First her bloodline with Oriceran and the village of Dominion, then her upcoming nineteenth birthday, which was today, and how he’d hoped she’d finally grow into her powers. He had a final last resort to give those powers a boost, though Felah didn’t know what it was.
Turns out that whatever it was had worked.
It could be the only explanation. No one else around these parts would do something as illogical as showcasing magic in front of humans.
“I’ve got a hunch,” Felah said.
Tone cocked his head at her and said, “Lunch?” crumbs falling from his mouth.
“Hunch. I know who did it.”
“Already, rookie? I’m impressed. Well, might as well make an example out of them and show the folks around here who’s the boss.”
“You want to send the perp to Trevilsom?” Felah said, heart skittering in her chest. “No, Tone, that’s—”
“The proper punishment,” Tone finished. He stood up and dug into his pocket, producing a roll of Lifesavers candy. Felah had only been on the job with him for about a week, but in that time he seemed to have eaten at least two grocery stores’ worth of junk food.
“No, Tone. It’s a new witch. That’s all. We can’t go around giving newcomers a death sentence for one mishap.”
“I can and I will.”
Felah rolled her eyes. Typical of Tone. He was a short fellow with a big gut, who suffered from a certain syndrome known as ‘Little Man’s’. What he lacked in height, though, he made up for in width.
“But she’s an important figure’s kin,” Felah said. The shock of sending Ignatius Mangood’s granddaughter to Trevilsom had worn off. Tone talked bigger than he was.
“I don’t care if it’s the Grand Wizard’s own wife. Rules are rules!”
“It’s Ignatius’s granddaughter,” Felah said.
Tone’s face went pale. He dropped the Lifesavers on the ground. They bounced like lost coins and fell into the darkness, gone forever. Or so Felah thought. Tone fell to his knees and tried to find them.
No luck.
Across the street where Malakai slunk low beneath the trees, the word ‘Ignatius’ floated over to him along the wind. His grip against a tree trunk tightened. He wanted to spring forward and kill the witch and wizard where they stood. It was the animalistic instincts kicking in—that, and technically being dead.
No.
He couldn’t do that.
He couldn’t kill them.
Not yet.
He watched. He waited.
“Best we go pay them a visit,” Tone said.
“Eh, I don’t know. I like Ignatius. He’s a good wizard, but he’s…” Felah trailed off.
“What?”
Felah shook her head. “He’s a little scary.”
“That old kook? No way. I’ll stomp him if he gets out of hand,” Tone puffed up.
Felah had heard about Ignatius’s past; how he was part of an army, but had almost single-handedly kept the Arachnids at bay. He would’ve succeeded if it hadn’t been for the traitor—the rogue Arachnid that Ignatius himself had found as a hatchling and nursed back to health.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Felah said. “He’d wipe the road with you, but that’s beside the point.”
Tone got up and brushed himself off. “Fine, we’ll just talk to him. We’ll just talk.”
The witch and wizard got into their car and drove out of Downview’s parking lot. Malakai had no problem keeping up with them, until the forest ran out and he had to run under the streetlights.
His appearance alone had caused three accidents, though none of them had been fatal.
“You all right?” Felah asked as they drove on. The two members of the Order were in Tone’s Honda CRV. The radio played Cream’s “White Room” very low.
Tone glanced over at Felah. His round face was still pale and a little sweaty.
“Yeah,” he grumbled. On his dashboard, he had clipped a picture of his youngest daughter. She was half Wood Elf and studying journalism at Ball State University. It was a funny thing: an Elf at a human college.
Absentmindedly, Tone stroked the picture. He missed his daughter, and the odd feeling that he was never going to see her again came to his mind.
“You don’t look it,” Felah said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Tone turned to look at her
