Chapter 4 #2
“This is dark magic—dirty magic,” she said. “Let me think for a moment. I want to look something up. Can I use your laptop?”
“Sure,” I said. I was the most tech-savvy out of the three of us. I had taken to tech like a cat takes to treats. “It’s in the living room.” I followed her into the living room, where I entered the household password and then turned it over to her. “I’m going to get some Cheetos,” I said.
As Iris began to tap away at the keys, I wandered into the kitchen, looking around the room. Like the computer, all the appliances had been an awakening. The zaps and buzzes and hisses and pops that were so ingrained into Earthside society had been a barrage of noise at first.
I was grateful we’d chosen a house that wasn’t fully in the city—at least we had space, and nature, and some quiet. We could hear the traffic on the road, barely, but we couldn’t see our nearest neighbor from our house, and our home was enshrouded with the feeling of sanctuary.
But slowly, we’d grown used to the differences.
Camille embraced city life. Menolly didn’t mind it either.
I’d had the hardest time adjusting, but even I had come around.
Life with a range and refrigerator was a lot easier than without them.
Hot running water was a welcome addition.
And I had to admit, it would be hard to go back to life without a television, though there, Camille and Menolly didn’t care so much.
But I loved it—everything from Jerry Springer to National Geographic specials.
I opened the cupboard and pulled out the Cheetos, then grabbed a paper towel and headed back to the living room.
“Oh for…damn it to hell!” Iris pushed the laptop back on the coffee table and turned to me. “I know where that statue came from. Or rather, who put it there? We’re looking at trouble.”
“What is it?” I said, curling up on the sofa and opening the Cheetos bag.
“I think we have a group of redcaps moving into the area. And that’s just a disaster waiting to happen.” She turned the laptop around. “Look—but keep your cheese-dusted fingertips away from the keyboard. It’s harder to clean keys on a laptop than on a regular keyboard.”
“We’ve got an infestation of mushrooms?” I asked, leaning closer.
“No,” Iris rolled her eyes. “Redcaps. They’re beastly creatures, unwelcome in most Fae habitats and Wild Places.”
She had brought up a site with a picture of a grisly-looking creature.
He looked a lot like pictures of the red-capped gnomes, except his smile showed razor-sharp teeth, and they were bloody as hell.
And he was holding an arm that was as long as he was tall.
It looked like a human arm, and he was glaring at the camera as if he was ready to attack.
“What the hell is that?” I’d seen some gnarly things in my life, but this went beyond gnarly.
“A redcap. Called that because they wash their caps in blood, according to lore. And while the mushroom isn’t connected to the creatures in any practical way, humans saw the mushrooms, and then the red caps of the creatures, and made their own connection.” Iris shuddered.
“What are they like?” I didn’t like how this conversation was going.
“Well, given they wash their caps in blood, and that photo was taken when somebody came across one eating the arm of its latest victim, you can bet they’re not going to want to join you for high tea.
” Iris grimaced. “They’re killers, and worse—they kill for fun.
When they decide to settle in an area, they leave one of these statues to guide others of their kind.
And they’ll leave charms to mark the houses of their potential victims—the charms are usually cursed.
It’s entertainment for them. Sometimes they hunt in packs, so they form small, tight communities. ”
“Little men who are mean…it fits with what Cromwell told me,” I said. I thought for a moment. “Then…this statue is meant to attract other redcaps? Which means we have at least one in the area, if not more.”
“That’s my thought,” Iris said. “We have to find them and eradicate them as soon as possible. They will settle into a place and hang on for dear life. Their women commonly have twins and triplets, so while they may not be numerous, they do as much as they can in order to increase their race. Like all beings, they seek to propagate the species.”
I looked at the picture again. “Can you print that out for me? We need to show Lukia this, and of course, Camille and Menolly. I think we should give Chase one of these pictures, too, along with a description. Just in case he encounters one. That way, he and the FH-CSI will have some point of reference.”
The Faerie-Human Crime Scene Investigation unit was Chase’s baby—he had thought of it, and his boss grudgingly allowed him to pull together the unit.
Chase Johnson was a detective with the Seattle Police Department, and the FH-CSI worked together with the OIA, bonding the two worlds.
There were other offices around the world doing the same, but each had its own rules, regulations, and standards.
“That’s a good idea,” Iris said. “Chase is one of the good ones, even if he comes on too strong.”
“He’ll never get anywhere with Camille,” I said. “He’s not her type.”
“What is her type?” Iris asked.
I thought about Camille’s last love. Our father had done his best to break things off, and he had finally had his way.
“The kind that you never forget. And she never will.” I glanced at the clock.
“All right, I’m going to call Chase, and then, when Camille gets home, we’ll go over to Lukia’s and tell her what we think might be behind this.
We can look through her yard to see if there’s one of these statues there, too. ”
As Iris returned to the housework, I picked up the statue again. We had all sorts of nasty beasts in Otherworld, and it looked like Earthside wasn’t going to be any better. With that thought in mind, I picked up the phone and dialed Chase’s number.