Unshapely Things

"What just happened?" I asked.

He stretched. "Now you know why flits like to greet the sun together."

"I can't believe how good I feel. Even my headache's gone." It was true. The thing in my head caused a chronic low-grade headache. I had become so accustomed to it that I judged my discomfort by its severity instead of whether I was in pain or not.

"It's a flit thing, Co

As he spoke, he kept flexing his fingers and stretching his left arm. A sharp white scar wrapped around the forearm vividly displayed the path the knife had taken as he had twisted away from it. "How's the arm?"

He looked down at his hand and waggled his fingers. "It's numb in the morning, and I never seem to have any strength in it. The Lady Briallen did something to my right arm to make it stronger. I'm taking that as a sign the left won't get any better."

"You were foolish to face him alone."

Stinkwort flew away from me and stood on the win-dowsill looking out. "I don't want to talk about that night. What happened to your eye?"

"I got mugged. Where've you been?"

"I've been looking for that damned belly-crawling sarf," he said sharply.

"And?"

He shrugged. "And nothing. I put the word out to the clans, but no one's found anything that feels as ska as this bastard. Wherever he is, he's got heavy protection wards. What about you?"

"I stole some files from the Guild."

Stinkwort gave me an indifferent stare over his shoulder. "That's it?"

"It's a failure, Joe. I've resisted doing it because it would mean I couldn't do anything else. I tried to solve this case like I've solved my other cases: by using my abilities. But I couldn't do it, so I stole some files."

He looked back out the window, sca

"The big deal is I've been reduced to breaking and entering. I can't do anything anymore."

Stinkwort tapped his chin in thought. "Bullshit."

"Don't patronize me, Joe. If I still had my abilities, I would have caught this guy a long time ago. I could have done a scry to find out things. I could have cast a spell to trail him from the first murder scene. I could have chased him the other night and caught him with my bare hands. If I still had my abilities, Tansy would still be alive."

He sat down on the windowsill and crossed his arms. "Co

I smiled in spite of myself. It was an old saying mothers used. The obvious implication being, of course, that it's better to be a fairy. I didn't think I'd ever hear a flit say such a thing. I raised my head and saw that Stinkwort had a small, curling sneer on his lip. Some people might think it's better to be something else, but no flit thought it was better to be a fairy.

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

Stinkwort fluttered up. "I have to go, Co

"I think I know the blood ritual he's using." He hovered for a long moment, just staring at me. I leaned back in the chair and made myself comfortable. "I don't know exactly, but I've found an empowerment spell. The stone used is bloodstone, ironically, and the blood is goat. I imagine fairy blood could be used for greater results."

"Co

I ignored him. "The spell's only temporary, but it definitely has the ability to increase the strength of the spell-caster's essence. I'm not quite following the substitution of selenite, though. It's mostly used for moon rituals, which we know is related now, and I'm guessing it gives the spell an added boost."

"Co

I ignored him and just kept talking. "The problem is the temporary nature. My guess is our guy's dying, and he's trying to save himself. All the other ska births have turned up dead. Whatever this guy's doing, he's playing for keeps. He knows he can't keep killing fairies. He's figured out a way to maintain the stolen essence. But from what I've surmised, it takes a lot of power to catalyze the spell and make it permanent. If he had that kind of power, he wouldn't need to do all this in the first place. It's got to be something about the selenite. What do you think?"

"I think you're out of your freakin' skull. You don't guess with blood rituals, Co

"Tell me what you know about them."

"Trust me, Co

"I've already asked. She said no."

Stinkwort flew straight up with his hands held out against me. "If she won't tell you, I sure as hell won't. Keep out of it, Co

"Joe, it's not like I'm going to perform the ritual. I'm just trying to figure it out."

"Then do it the sane way. We both got his scent that night. Help me search that way."

I gestured toward the bruise on my face. "I can't smell a damned thing."

He stared down at me. "Fine. I'm going to find this guy before you get hurt." He vanished.

"Well, that went well," I said to the empty room.

I let my head roll against the back of the armchair and stared at the ceiling. I could understand Stinkwort's concern. Plenty of spells could be done without i

I had found the blood ritual in the late evening in an old poem tucked in among folklore from Eastern Europe. Either the author had thought it inconsequential, or she had missed editing it out. It gave me enough to figure out what it could do. If you read enough spells, you tend to recognize a True one from neopagan chuckles.

But the big payoff of the night came when I went looking at macDuin's files. The name 'Dealle S. had popped up in a list of contacts relating to the selenite theft the previous fall. MacDuin had made the entry. An 'S' followed by a period was a typical Guild abbreviation for sidhe, and Dealle was the same as the name of the woman Murdock had been trying to contact. In a world where people went by their first names unless they were royalty, the odds of two people having the same name were high. I was willing to bet good money that the odds of two people having the same name co