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That much I noticed before exhaustion started stealing me. I leaned on Derrick’s shoulder, my eyelids heavy, while Eucilla reported that the criminal known as Mariana Telvinni was in custody and would be undergoing thorough interrogation before the day was over. She did not go into detail about the sluaghna or the warlock trafficking ring and some part of me wondered at that, but I supposed they were still trying to root out all of Delilah’s supporters and it made sense if they wanted to keep some information hidden.
The Norton’s demanded permission to leave, but Brock silenced his parents by stating he would be helping the investigation. The rest of the guests were more subdued and took the news that they would be required to stay a few more days with barely a nod. Ms. Maureen remained stiff-backed and silent beside the lieutenant as the announcement was made that more CEB officials were on the way to expedite the interviewing process, but I could sense her grief.
She was a confirmed widow now, no matter how long the real Montgomery had been dead, and the mourning process was only beginning. Added to that was the weight of her daughter’s death, which I suspected she knew about. No matter how misguided Delilah had been, she was still Maureen’s little girl and the last vestiges of a once happy marriage, and that grief was far more acute than anything else.
“Come on, we’re not needed here,” Derrick whispered in my ear.
I nodded and let him lead me from the room. To my surprise, he didn’t take me upstairs. In short order, he had us through several doors and into a small dayroom with comfortable furniture and I sat on something soft, murmuring my appreciation before my eyes closed and I let sleep take me.
When I opened my eyes next it was full day, and I could see the room clearly. I was on a settee that under any normal circumstance would have been too short for me, but I’d been so tired I hadn’t noticed my feet hung off the edge. Floral patterns in heavy maroon and gold covered the furniture, and there was an oriental rug with a pattern quite unlike my father’s back home. An ornate clock on the mantle ticked away the seconds and afternoon light streamed through the open window at the far side of the room.
Someone had lit incense. The pleasant, gentle scent was a comfort and faint wisps curled through the air in chaotic patterns. For several seconds I watched the drift and whirl of smoke in the sunlight and took a long, deep breath.
Cade must have seen to my arm and fingernail because the bandages were gone, and my skin was repaired. The spot where I’d carved into myself was a thin, silvery outline in the vague shape of a triangle and the fingernail looked as it always had, if a little paler than the others on my hand.
“Constable Cade, you are a marvel,” I murmured.
To my great surprise, I was answered. “Yes, well. Constable Cade does have many fine qualities.”
The voice came from a thin, pencil of a man seated in a chair positioned near my settee. I sat up and drew away. Someone had placed a blanket over me, and I snagged the soft material, wrapping it around myself in some form of defense. My clothes were still dirty and torn and I could only imagine the frightful sight I must be.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” I asked.
The pencil man had a gaunt face and an unpleasant smile. “I am Assessor Vagary. I am here at the request of the CEB to take your complaints.”
“My complaints?”
He pulled out a small notepad and pen. Flipping the notepad open to a designated page that was by no means at the front of the book, he readied his pen and smiled at me. “You were taken from your home in Boston and forced to aid in an investigation, wherein you were put into peril with warlock traffickers of the dastardliest sort. You were captive of a runestone. The safehouse they placed you in – far too late in the game, I might add – was not safe at all and your personage was assaulted by the neralti.”
“I’m sorry, the neralti?”
My mind was still trying to catch up, but I had the distinct feeling that this man wanted something specific from me.
“You would know them as the vines that attacked the safehouse. Sluaghna are the only creatures that can use them. They are, in fact, a part of their aethereal selves that manifest both Earthside and in Fairy at the creature's whim.”
I remembered the way Delilah’s arm withered after Cade drew out the water from the vines.
“That makes sense,” I said.
“Indeed.” Vagary returned to his notepad. “After having the runestone remove, instead of seeing you safely home, Lieutenant Eucilla Norwind’s team continued to use you as an asset despite the grave danger to your person. You were thence abducted by the sluaghna known as Mariana Telvinni and held captive, forced to remove pieces of your own body for the safety of a catatonic woman who should never have been taken from the Institute…”
“That was Lord Malcolm’s doing,” I said.
Vagary tutted at me. “We shall not speak ill of the dead.”
I flushed. “The truth is still the truth, regardless of who is dead.”
“Miss Grayson…”
“No,” I said, holding tight to my blanket. “I don’t know what you’re searching for here, but you’re not going to get it from me. I have no complaints to lodge. Lieutenant Norwind’s team saved my life and put an end to a ring of warlock traffickers who have been hunting my kind for years.”
Vagary’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “I don’t think you understand the situation.”
“I understand it perfectly well. I lived it.”
He snapped his notepad shut. “Fine. I don’t know what this team did to earn your loyalty, but I can assure you that it is misplaced.”
He rose and stalked toward the door, opening it with a jerk. On the other side of the door, flanked by Cade and Derrick, stood Eucilla Norwind. Her dracken eyes glinted with clear humor as she nodded to the Assessor, who strode past them and further down the hall.
