A Shadow of Crows Read online

  Gingerly, I leaned down and held out my hand. Raj took it and shook it, one firm handshake. His skin felt leathery and crinkled, but the grip was intensely strong and he could have broken my hand with one squeeze, if he had wanted to.

  “Hi Raj. I’m Ember. Nice to meet you.” I wasn’t sure what to do next, but he let go and waddled back off into the undergrowth, sniffing his hand.

  “He knows your scent now, so next time you come here, he’ll remember. Come on in.” Raven led me into the house.

  As cluttered with plants as the outside was, the inside was almost minimalist. The decor was nice, but neat and uncluttered, and I couldn’t see any plants at all in the place. The living room was spacious—open concept in the best way. The floor was a checkerboard tile in black and white. The walls were pale gray, and the drapes over the window, a filmy set of lilac sheers.

  The furniture looked comfortably worn but, again, neat. A black sofa, a set of black and white nautically striped armchairs, and several end tables painted in a frosted pearl completed the decor. The living room led directly into the kitchen, which was again, done in black and white with shades of pearl and gray. An eat-in nook overlooked a sliding glass door that led out into the back yard. To the left, a hall led to what I assumed were bedrooms and a bath. To the right was a door that I guessed led into the garage.

  But as minimal and tidy as the house was, the walls were alive with art. All of it worked together, but it was a kaleidoscope of color and shape and form.

  “You have quite the collection,” I said, staring at one painting in particular of crows overlooking a harvest field. The moon was high in the sky, and the shadows made it look as though the painting were in black and white, instead of the gentle washes of color that crept in around the edges.

  “Thank you. Please, sit down.” She motioned to the table. “Would you like some coffee or sparkling water or juice?”

  I shook my head. “If I have any more coffee, I’ll be up all night.” It wasn’t exactly true, but I was already on edge and didn’t want to give myself a reason to be any more shaky. “So, where are your ferrets?”

  She smiled. “They’re in one of the back rooms, asleep. Ferrets are a lot like cats, only more crafty. I’d introduce you but I don’t want them up and running around just yet. If they’re happy to sleep, I let them.”

  “I understand. I have a cat—Mr. Rumblebutt. He’s a Norwegian Forest cat and he’s a handful on his own. So,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I suppose you wonder what I’m doing here.”

  “I assume it’s about Ulstair?” She filled a tumbler with ice from the refrigerator and poured sparkling water over it, adding a twist of lemon. It looked so good that I found myself thirsty.

  “If the offer still stands, I’d love to have what you’re drinking.”

  She smiled, setting the glass in front of me. Then, pouring herself another, she joined me when she was finished. “What do you need?”

  My smile vanished. “I was hoping you could take me to Ulstair’s apartment. Herne wants me to walk through it with you, to see if we can find anything out of the ordinary.”

  Raven let out a soft murmur. “I expected this. I don’t mind telling you, it’s all I can do to sit here and not go running amok in the streets, trying to track him down like a lost cat.” She paused, leaning back as she sipped her water. “I know you probably hear this a lot, but Ulstair wouldn’t just up and leave. I know something’s happened to him. I just hope he’s still alive.”

  I paused for a moment, watching her. Any drama was purely a part of her nature, not put on for show.

  “You said you’re a bone witch. Pardon me, I haven’t had much to do with the Ante-Fae, but…what is it that you do? I work with the water element. I’m pledged to Morgana.”

  Raven contemplated my words for a moment, then nodded. “I work with the dead. I actually enjoy it. I bring a lot of comfort to people, though not all of my dealings with the dead end happily. I communicate with the spirits for people who have need, cleanse houses of unwanted ghosts, and so on.”

  “I would think that one of the Ante-Fae wouldn’t have much to do with humans. Are you saying you take human clients?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t really care about who my clients are, only that they can pay and that they have a need. I’ve worked for humans, the Fae, even a few shifters have come to me, but most of them wouldn’t trust me. I may be one of the Ante-Fae, but I feel more attuned to the world in front of me than the world as it has been.” She motioned for me to stand. “Come, I’ll take you to Ulstair’s apartment.”

  On the way out the door, she swept up her keys and purse, and whistled for Raj to come inside. She locked the door behind her, and we headed to our cars.

  ULSTAIR LIVED IN an apartment about half a mile from Raven’s house. It was a four-story house that had been converted into four separate apartments, each with an outside entrance. Ulstair lived on the second floor.

  Raven darted up the steps, and I followed her. The neighborhood here was seedy, run down and a pall of resignation hung heavy in the air. I glanced around, making certain nobody was following us. It was that kind of neighborhood—the kind where you hunched forward, pulling your coat tightly around you and sped up if you were out too late.

  “You have a key?”

  She nodded. “I have a key to his place, and he has a key to mine.”

  We stepped off the landing at the front door. She fit the key in the lock and the door swung open as she turned the knob. She reached inside and flipped a switch, and a bright light flickered on in what appeared to be the main room. “He essentially has a large one-bedroom. A living room with a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a bath. This used to be an old Victorian until the owner flipped it and turned it into what he calls townhouses.”

  So this is what they were calling townhouses now, I thought. Then, feeling uncharitable—after all, I had lived in a condo not much bigger than this for years—I brushed the thought aside.

  “Why does he live here? I thought CalTecNology was over in Seattle.” It also occurred to me that we should check Ulstair’s financials in depth. He was a software developer but lived far under what his salary probably could cover.

  “CTN is over in Seattle, but the rest of Ulstair’s family lives out in TirNaNog. His mother is one of the ancients, and she’s close to passing through the veil. He likes to keep as close as he can, just in case he needs to rush over there. As far as why he lives in this dump…well, it was the only apartment available close to my house when he moved in. He actually likes it, though. His neighbors are cool, and they all watch out for one another.”

  She looked around the room. It was tidy, though not as spotless as her house, and I saw clean dishes in the dish drainer on the counter. “Did you do the dishes?”

  “Yeah, I found a sink full of dishes. He usually does them before bed, so I figure he disappeared some time during the day. I didn’t want them to attract gnats or flies, so I washed them. Otherwise, I checked on his suitcases and they were all here.” She ducked her head. “His car’s down on the street, so I know he didn’t take it. As I said, I called the police but they blew me off. I think Ulstair’s made a few enemies over the years in TirNaNog, and a number of the cops in this district come from there.”

  “Yeah, that can make a big difference in whether they listen to you, all right.” I glanced around the apartment. Most of it looked tidy and in order. “He’s a software developer. What about his computer?”

  She led me over to a desk in the corner. “He’s got both a laptop and a tower. And they’re both here.”

  “Can you get into them? If so, we can check to see if he’s had any unsettling emails.”

  “The desktop, yes. The laptop no, because that’s his computer from work and he’s not allowed to let anybody else have access to it. His password on the desktop is 3945olive#.” A smile flickered across her face. “He loves olives.”

  I sat down and t
apped away at the machine. “Have you checked his messages?”

  “He doesn’t have a landline, so I couldn’t. I should call his work again, though. They know who I am. I called them a few days ago.” She moved to the side and pulled out her phone while I concentrated on the computer.

  I booted up the computer. It looked top of the line, and he had a four-monitor system rigged up. I brought up the log-in screen. His name, “Ulstair,” was already listed, and I typed in the password. A moment later, I was staring at his desktop. There must have been over eighty icons there, and I scanned through them, looking for his email program. That would be the first thing to check. When I found it, I double-clicked it and waited.

  Raven returned, looking grave. “They said they’ve tried to call him several times a day to find out where he was, but there’s been no answer. I forgot to leave them my number last time, and Ulstair neglected to give them an emergency contact. They thought perhaps his mother died, since they knew she was sick. I told them I’ve called the cops and contacted you. They have both my number and your agency’s number now.”

  “So he hasn’t shown up at work, and there wasn’t any planned leave?”

  She shook her head. “He had time off scheduled for next month. We were going to take a vacation.”

  I glanced back at the email program. It had downloaded about two dozen messages, most requesting him to get in touch with people. “You recognize any of these names?”

  Raven glanced over the list of contacts. “Yeah. Most are from work, I think. That one there is one of his best buddies.”

  I glanced through the backlog of messages he had already read. Nothing sparked off any alarms. No arguments. No debates or threats. After a few minutes, I pushed back the keyboard. “This is getting us nowhere fast. Let’s go through the apartment. See if you can spot anything that appears to be missing. Anything at all.”

  We started over at his closet. All his suitcases were there. Raven began sorting through his clothes and shoes. She suddenly stopped.

  “Wait. There is something missing. Look under the bed to see if you can find a pair of sneakers. They’re fancy, with light-up racing stripes on the sides.”

  I glanced under the bed. Nothing. Not even a dust bunny. “Nope.”

  We scoured the apartment and turned up empty.

  “Okay, so if the sneakers aren’t here, he was probably wearing them, you think?”

  She nodded. “He goes running several times a week. I remember the shoes because I laughed at them when he bought them. He thought they were cool, and he said they’re the most comfortable running shoes he’s ever worn. So chances are, he went out for a run. Let me look for his hoodie that he wears over his sweats when he runs on cool days.” She checked in the closet again, then went over and rifled through his dresser. “All right, his running hoodie and his blue sweats are missing. He has three pair of sweats—gray, blue, and black. The blue ones aren’t in the dresser, and they aren’t in the laundry basket.”

  “Where does he go running?” At least we had a point to start looking now.

  “He runs through UnderLake Park.” Raven gave me a look that told me she knew exactly how dangerous that could be.

  “Do you know the route that he usually takes?”

  She nodded. “He almost always takes the Bird Trackers path. About a block down the street is the entrance. He runs about a half mile on that path, then crosses to the Beach Trail, runs along the shore till he reaches the Grotto Trail, then loops back. It’s about a five-mile run. He usually runs about three times a week.”

  “Do you ever go with him?” I asked, sitting back down at the computer. I pulled up a map of UnderLake Park and began studying the route.

  “Do I look like I run?” Raven shook her head. “I’m Ante-Fae, yes, and I’m strong, but I don’t jog. I don’t run. And I don’t sweat. Well, I try not to.” She twisted her lip. “I did go with him once. We walked the route, since I had no intention on jogging. It was beautiful, but eerie. There are so many spirits in that park and they’re all clamoring for someone to listen to them. The overload almost did me in. I begged off ever going again. At times, I’ve had to visit the park for ingredients for my spells, or for people who have come seeking answers, but I’m uncomfortable with the amount of psychic energy there.”

  I nodded. “It’s definitely not a place for the sensitive or those who are magically open.”

  “I don’t like it, but if you want me to go with you, I will,” she said. “I might be able to pick up on something. My powers mostly lie with communicating and working with the dead, but with Ulstair missing, I feel like I need to do anything that might possibly help.”

  I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. “I’ll call Viktor and he can go with me. If we find something you might be able to help with, then we can call you out.”

  She pressed her lips together, but a stray tear trailed down her face. “I know the Ante-Fae are seen as dangerous, but though all of us can be deadly, not all of us are heartless. I love Ulstair and I’ll do whatever I need to in order to find him.”

  I turned off the computer and looped my arm through hers. “Come on. You go back to your place and rest. I’ll call Viktor and he and I’ll go look through the park. Don’t give up hope. Sometimes, that’s all that keeps us going.”

  VIKTOR MET ME at the edge of the park. I filled him in on the route, and what we thought Ulstair was probably wearing and he handed me a flashlight and a backpack, which I shrugged into. It had basic supplies in it, and I usually kept it in my car but I had forgotten to bring it.

  As we stepped off the sidewalk, onto the Bird Trackers Path, an immediate hush descended around us. Oh, there were still sounds—the birds were singing their rain songs, and the bushes rustled with the sounds of small animals, but it was as though everything outside the park had become muffled.

  UnderLake Park was riddled with ravines, and the path we were on was wide enough for two to go abreast, but directly to our left, a ravine led down into a deeper section of the park. The slope was filled with blackberries and brambles and stinging nettle, all painful deterrents to straying from the path. About halfway down the slope, it looked as though the vegetation changed over to vine maple and waist-high ferns. The trees were thick, mostly tall fir covered with moss, but there were also birch and cottonwood and cedar and a few tall maple trees tucked in among the rest. Their branches were covered with brilliant leaves—the rusts and reds and golds of autumn were in full array.

  “It’s beautiful here,” Viktor said as we began our hike. We were going at a slow to moderate pace so we could look for anything that might point to Ulstair still being in the park.

  “Beautiful but deadly.” I stopped, raising my head to catch whatever scents I could. If we were near a water elemental, I might be able to coax it to talk to us, but I didn’t have that same connection with the land. At least, not as much. But there was something on the wind, something that felt like it was coaxing me on.

  “Something’s stirring. Can you feel it?”

  He paused, then shook his head. “No, but I don’t carry much magic in me. What do you think it is?”

  I closed my eyes, reaching out with my inner senses. There were whispers all around us—probably the ghosts Raven had talked about. And there were other creatures lurking in the woods. Startled, I realized I was able to sense them much stronger than ever before. I knew, absolutely knew, that we were being tracked by something. It felt old and shadowy, hidden under layers of molding leaves and decaying bark. Whatever it was, it was covered with mushrooms and mildew and it smelled… I wrinkled my nose. I could smell it now. It was pungent, like freshly turned earth in the autumn. It seemed to sense me and reached out, stretching a long, gnarled hand toward me, the knobby fingers long with sharpened nails on their tips.

  Startled, I jerked back as I opened my eyes. Viktor steadied me.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah, I think s
o, but I’m much more in touch with the forest than before. I think I may have just stumbled onto the heart of the park. Or something close to it.”

  Every forest, every body of water, had its heart. Everything possessed a spirit of some sort, a consciousness that existed on one level or another. Some were sentient, others rudimentary, but consciousness was universal, and a web of energy connected everyone and everything. What happened a thousand miles away, even on the smallest scale, had an effect the world over. Theorists spoke of the butterfly effect, witches and psychics talked about how any action would alter reality. Whatever the case, I had long learned that the universe was inherently chaotic, that the world did not run on a clockwork system.

  “What do you think is causing it?” Viktor glanced around us, looking nervous. “Is something here attacking you?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. This feels…” And then I froze, as I knew—absolutely knew—what was happening. “My father’s blood. It’s rising.”

  Autumn’s Bane, or the Autumn Stalkers as they were called, were part of the Dark Fae, and they were a band of raiders, now mostly located in Annwn. But their descendants lived here, and I was one of them, along with the Leannan Sidhe side from my mother. The Autumn Stalkers excelled in hunting and tracking and reading the forests. I was approaching the ritual when I would formally “meet” this side of myself, which was necessary before the Cruharach. My father’s blood was starting to make itself known in me.

  The Cruharach was the time in every Fae’s life when the aging process drastically slowed down, and at that point, whatever powers they inherited from their parents came to full force. If the proper rituals weren’t observed, the Cruharach could bring about madness, or even death. Nervous now, for I wasn’t sure just how strong that side of me was going to be and the last place I needed for it to unleash itself was out in UnderLake Park, I cleared my throat and turned to Viktor.