A Study in Spirits Read online

  King Ladislas scratched his chin as he looked down at his daughter. She was calmer but still breathing hard, her eyes intensely black.

  “Hm, you do make a good point. Once you obtain a throne, it can be hard to tell who is a sycophant and who a true friend. Perhaps your method does warrant some consideration.”

  The light from the window brightened, and the temperature in the room slowly warmed. Logan let out the breath he was holding while Jib started hacking up the cake it had eaten.

  “I told you not to eat that,” scolded Brigit.

  “Not on the moon dress,” admonished King Ladislas. But Jib had a cat nature and ignored the royal command. Its retching gained momentum.

  “I’ll get a towel,” promised Logan, happy to retreat to the safety of the kitchen.

  Celia entered the corner bakery, seeking something sweet. She couldn’t help but feel she had deserted Logan in his hour of need. And leaving had been for naught.

  Last year she had roomed with two fae. One hadn’t paid the previous two months rent, skipping out; the other brought a freeloading boyfriend to sleep on the couch. After Brigit’s success with Logan as a roommate, Celia thought a human might be a better choice this go-around.

  But the interview ended in hurtful insults. When the human saw she was fae, she called Celia a “freak,” storming off in disgust.

  “Insulting,” the naiad muttered under her breath. The bakery employee looked up from the cash register, startled by Celia’s words. “Oh, I didn’t mean you.”

  She picked up her tray and slinked to a table in embarrassment.

  The events of the day had lowered Celia’s usually upbeat spirit.

  That was the trouble with being a Water Element. The intensity of your emotions could be suddenly overwhelming. Water fae were often seen as hysterical by others, and the rate of suicide among her kind was high.

  Belonging to a sisterhood of naiads, Celia had seen the sad outcome of not managing your feelings, the destruction of relationships. As a child, she learned techniques to bring about a state of calm. She used a quick breathing exercise and a series of images to regain control of herself.

  Still, drying her eyes didn’t solve the problem. She needed someone to share the rent of her new flat. Like all of the apartments in the college town, rent was high. Without a partner to deflect the cost, Celia would need to get a job on top of her nursing internship and classes.

  She sliced her Bienenstich, a custard-filled almond cake, in halves lengthwise. The bee sting cake was one of her favorites. Staring down at it, she didn’t feel like eating.

  “I heard there was a bulletin board here where students can post stuff? I’m looking for a roommate.”

  Celia looked up to see who spoke. It was a human girl standing at the bakery counter. She was of medium height, wearing a battered leather coat, faded blue jeans, and a knit cap pulled over purple hair.

  “Over there,” said the employee, pointing with one hand as she handed back the change. After collecting her order, the newcomer set her tray down on a table near Celia. She walked over to review the bulletin board. There would be slim pickings; Celia had viewed it numerous times herself.

  While Celia wondered how to start a conversation, the girl returned to her table. She pulled something out of her pocket. It wiggled in her hands.

  “Oh, what is that?”

  The girl turned to Celia, showing her what she held. It was about the size of a tangerine, with brown and black fur, and large black eyes, indicating it had nocturnal habits.

  “Is it a hamster?” Celia asked, charmed.

  “No. It’s a flying squirrel. A dwarf flying squirrel from Japan. Its name is Obake,” the newcomer told Celia. She fed the adorable creature bits of an apple.

  “It certainly is a cutie. Are you a student here at LOTTOS?”

  “Yes, this is my first semester.”

  In Geheimetür, all languages were one due to the magical presence of the fae, so Celia easily understood the girl’s words. Even though they were translated to the naiad’s native Italian, underneath Celia heard the original language.

  “From your accent, are you an American?”

  “No, Canadian. From Raincouver, I mean, Vancouver.”

  Now that the girl was closer, Celia noticed her clothes were shabby, and not due to a fashion sensibility but through hard use.

  “My name is Celia Rivers.”

  “Emma Walker. But I prefer Em.”

  “I couldn’t help but overhear that you need a roommate. Do you have a place? Or are you looking for one? Finding accommodations here in Geheimetür can be difficult.”

  “You’re not kidding!” said Emma. She slid her chair over to Celia’s table, speaking in a more confidential tone. “I had a roommate assigned to me by the university. The girl is impossible. Not messy, but snobby. An elitist. And she hates Obake.”

  Celia watched, fascinated as the squirrel nibbled a chunk of apple, turning it around in tiny paws to gnaw on different edges.

  “She’s already found someone to fill my bunk and wants me out.”

  “Well, I need a roommate. Would you consider a fae suitable?”

  “Depends,” said Em, giving Celia a measuring glance. The glass in her metal eye frames reflected the window. The multiple images in the lens masked her blue eyes. “You have to be okay with Obake here. I’d take care of the guy myself, of course.”

  “I don’t think that would be hard. It seems to be a sweet creature. What exactly did your roommate object to?”

  “Hm,” responded Em, pursing her lips. “Has a prejudice against rodents. Said it was dirty, among other things.”

  Celia, who had known many fae far less clean than a flying squirrel, wasn’t put off by its relation to rats. Being recently called a freak, all of her sympathies were with the rodent.

  “I’m fine with it as long as you both would abide by a fae Guest Right contract.”

  “I don’t know what that is?”

  Celia pulled out her phone.

  “What’s your email and I’ll send it to you.”

  Emma gave it, asking, “What’s your place like? I’d want to see it before I’d agree to anything.”

  “It’s a two-bedroom, one bath, that’s located downtown but not in an apartment building. It’s a unique situation. Very private. I’m sending that info to you also. Why don’t you come by to look at it tomorrow? If that works with your class schedule?”

  “About 3 p.m.?”

  Celia stood up, picking up her plate so she could put it in the cleaning bin. “I’m busy in the morning and afternoon, so that works for me. I’ll see you then.”

  As the shop door closed after the dark-haired woman, the squirrel told Em, “I told you she needed a roommate, and wouldn’t be picky.”

  “Right Mr. Know-it-all. But she’s fae, so be on your best behavior,” warned Emma. “For example, don’t tell someone his girlfriend’s hair color comes from a bottle. Or tell someone’s mom who her daughter is sleeping with. Just keep all your secret knowledge locked inside, unless I ask you.”

  “But it was the truth,” the tsukumogami protested, puzzled at Emma’s scolding. “I like discovering people’s secrets. It’s what I’m good at.”

  “Yeah, I know, but let’s not rattle everyone’s cages all the time, okay?”

  Fresh Starts

  Was this the place? Her map had led her down a narrow alley to what looked like a derelict warehouse. Unsure, Emma Walker stood outside the metal gate waiting.

  “I can unlock it easily,” said the tsukumogami, but Em hushed it with a “Let’s be patient for once.”

  She was glad she did, for she soon spotted Celia coming towards them from the opposite side.

  “Hey, glad you came,” hailed Celia, as she unlocked the wrought iron fence.

  As Celia led them, she explained that the apartment was once the offices of a warehouse complex. She had become aware of its availability by accident and was lucky the owners were willing to lease
it to her.

  “It’s very private and quiet back here. The building is sitting empty until the owners get the renovation plans approved by the city. The owners hope to start construction in about 18 months. We might have some architects come by, but that’s all.”

  They passed an industrial dumpster at a loading dock before heading up a long ramp.

  “The lease is only good for one year, though,” apologized Celia.

  “That’s fine. I don’t know what my plans will be in a year anyway. My being here wasn’t something I expected.”

  They turned a corner and took another ramp before stopping at a heavy steel door. Celia opened it and ushered Emma inside.

  “Each room has a bed, but that’s about it. The owners aren’t renting it furnished.”

  As Celia had warned her in her email, it was an older apartment and smelled musty. However, the kitchen was bigger than Em expected.

  “It was originally used as the company breakroom,” explained Celia, as Em opened and closed cabinets and drawers.

  “I don’t mind you having a pocket pet,” continued the naiad, “but don’t mention it to the landlord. They seem pretty easy going, but better to be safe than sorry.”

  Em agreed, and looking down, asked, “Would they let us rip up this carpet? It looks like wood flooring beneath it.”

  “Sounds good to me!” agreed Celia, who also didn’t like the stained, oatmeal color of the thin carpeting. “We should have Granite come over to rip it out for us.”

  “Who?” asked Em sharply.

  “He’s one of my bondmates. A wrestler on the university team. He loves doing stuff that makes his muscles work hard.”

  “So, another fae?” Em had some familiarity with the fae, but not much. In Vancouver they were shy so you usually didn’t encounter them unless you went hiking or skiing.

  “You’ll like him,” promised the naiad. “He’s very easygoing. But I’ll be sure you meet him beforehand so you can approve of him coming over. Trust me. I understand boundaries. Did you have a chance to look over the contract I sent?”

  Em nodded.

  “Great. What do you think?”

  “It was pretty comprehensive. I liked it. Very thorough. I did email back some concerns…”

  “No problem. I thought your suggestions reasonable. We can iron out the details before you sign. I’m going to pop down to the corner to meet a friend for a few beers at the Weberhaus. I’ll be back within the hour. Why don’t you look around and text me if you want to be flatmates?”

  Celia handed her a key, and with a wave, headed out. Her trust was surprising, until Em realized there wasn’t much in the apartment. When she came to Celia’s room, her door wouldn’t open.

  “It’s a spell,” said the tsukumogami. It cocked its small head, examining the complex weave of the magical barrier. “I could break it, but I would not be able to repair it.”

  “Don’t. It’s not important enough to risk getting off on the wrong foot.”

  Em went back through the entire apartment more slowly, making a list in her head. Yeah, the whole place needed a fresh coat of paint. Getting the carpet and the underpad out would probably raise a lot of dust, but the brown thing needed to go. She wondered how much work this Granite fellow would want to do.

  She brought the flying squirrel from her pocket and set Obake on her shoulder.

  “What do you think?”

  “Let’s decorate your bedroom with tree branches. I want something to climb.”

  “Sure. I’ll make it cozy for you.”

  “Is the electric system acceptable for our power needs? What about WiFi?”

  “Yeah, that fae girl said it was all good. A leftover from when this was part of the offices for the factory. Phone, WiFi, electric. She got it turned on last week.”

  “Have we received payment for the library job?”

  “Yep. All done electronically and anonymously. I made that cheater pay through the nose.”

  “Let us shop. I want nesting materials.”

  Em gave the tsukumogami a smile. “Remember, we don’t get allowance from mom and dad for another month. And we still need to buy food and books. But I think we can swing some ferret hammocks or something.”

  She texted Celia that she wanted to review the lease with her in person, but yes, she was ready to commit.

  After the drama of the visit by King Ladislas, things simmered down to the regular flurry of trying to get fifteen things done at once.

  Logan was on a new school schedule, getting together his textbooks and manuals for classes, and returning to orchestra practice. Meanwhile, Brigit enrolled in a heavy load of classes. She also returned to her old job at the landscape business.

  On Logan’s initial application to LOTTOS, he wrote he played the violin. Since the university orchestra was filling gaps caused by graduating students, his musical ability helped him in getting accepted. However, it was a requirement to audition at the beginning of every school year, so Logan was in the concert hall awaiting the verdict after his solo performance.

  “Music isn’t your major?” asked the maestro’s assistant, looking over her reading glasses at him. She was a round woman, with messy hair, and dark eyes.

  “No. My major is communication, mass media.”

  Kados Géza, the Hungarian conductor, sat to her right. He was a small thin man with a full head of white hair that stood out like dandelion fluff. His eyes never left Logan’s face, although he said nothing.

  “You missed several practice sessions last year,” the woman continued, looking over papers she held in her hand.

  “Yes, I apologize for that. But in the last two months of the spring semester, I did make each practice and performance. I also kept up my practice through the summer.”

  From behind her hand, she whispered to the maestro. The man folded his hands before him on the table, leaning forward in a smooth bow.

  “Did you think by performing Bartók’s violin concerto no. 2 that I would be flattered?”

  Well, Logan had hoped he would be since Bartók was a fellow Hungarian. However, it wouldn’t do to admit that. He remained silent and waited.

  “The piece is beyond you at this point,” the maestro declared in a tone that sounded as if he was bored with the entire audition process. Since Logan had been the eighteenth on stage and there were more than twenty people behind him, it would not have been surprising if Géza was indeed bored.

  “Do you have any of Bach's Sonatas and Partitas for solo violin memorized?”

  “Yes.”

  The maestro gave a wave of his hand for him to begin, and Logan took a deep breath, bringing his violin back under his chin. But he was only a few minutes into his playing when the maestro told Logan to cease.

  “We will let you know.”

  Thankfully, Logan heard back about his slot in the orchestra within the week. He was amazed to discover he was moved up to the first row and was asked to perform during an upcoming school event.

  The private donor reception was hosted by the chancellor of the university. It was black tie and they would perform pieces the orchestra had practiced last year. Logan would be one of the two violins in a string quartet that also included a viola and cello.

  “Don’t get too excited,” cautioned the maestro’s assistant. “The first violin must attend a wedding.”

  She gave a heavy sigh, and Logan’s bard-sense knew she wasn’t happy with his selection. It made him wonder why he had been asked. Surely they could have found another?

  She handed him a schedule.

  “There will be at least eight different musicians performing throughout the party, and you will make up the second set. Make sure you attend all the practices. No excuses will be accepted.”

  Some whispered that François Auguste Bandemer was a vampire. The rumor may have started because of his long tenure as chancellor. Or it might have been because he was high maintenance.

  Bandemer had just finished a morning meeting with his
staff to discuss a recent substantial donation from a fae queen. Bandemer wanted them to know it was because of his charm.

  At the meeting’s end, when his staff filed out to leave, Paul appeared.

  “A new school year always makes me feel young again,” commented Bandemer to his spymaster, beckoning Paul to enter and take a seat beside him at the conference table.

  As chancellor of LOTTOS, Bandemer wore what he considered his ordinary day wear. His clothes were styled upon the elaborate court rules of Louis XIV and were in layers of colors, ribbons, and lace.

  With too many buttons to count, his lilac waistcoat was covered with an orange coat with a bell skirt reaching to his knees. Completing his outfit were layers of lace at the throat and wrists, and purple ribbons at the elbows and knees.

  Bandemer positioned his long fingers under his chin, so the lace cuffs fluttered backward over his wrist. His pose revealed the brilliant gold and green of his most recent jewelry acquisition, an emerald ring. Bandemer was quite proud of this personal gift from Queen Titania. Not only did it indicate a show of favor, but it was quite an expensive trinket.

  How long before Paul would notice it?

  “How are all our little spies doing this year?” he asked, quite jovial. Bandemer’s light blue eyes were too pale for a human hue. Combined with his high cheekbones and bony nose, his age was not readily guessed. His fae genes disguised the breadth of his years, and his childish nature lent his face a second youth.

  “Nothing unusual,” replied Paul calmly. “The typical issues of too many students all trying to get classes with professors that go easiest on grading. A few tried to convince admin that their paperwork was in order when it wasn’t.”

  Two separate offices governed Leopold-Ottos-Universität. Herr Maximilian Schubert filled the office of Rector. The human was in charge of the nuts and bolts of running the institution.

  Whereas, Bandemer’s job as chancellor was to attend ceremonies, raise funds, and keep a leash on his fellow fae. Since Bandemer wanted to enjoy the entertainments, the pomp, and splendor, he quickly assigned the responsibility of monitoring the fae to Paul.