Is anyone there? Will you speak to me? I sent out the emotion, a questioning energy. Elementals didn’t respond to words, but to feelings and images.
A flicker of awareness signaled that I had caught the attention of the water elemental. I hesitantly reached out, extending my respect, and the elemental reached back, lingering around the edges of my aura. It was hesitant and wary, but seemed open to communication.
I formed an image of DJ in my mind, surrounding him with a sense of worry. I pushed a sense of urgency into every ounce of my inquiry, focusing on the danger that I thought he was in.
A moment later the elemental responded. The image of the streambed formed in my mind, deep inside the ravine, and I saw what looked like a concrete culvert. I sensed a warning in the message, but couldn’t see what I was supposed to watch out for. The elemental broke off contact, and I whispered a Thank you.
I leaned back against the tree, considering my next move. If I could trust the elemental, then DJ would be somewhere near a stream. Maybe he was caught in a culvert and couldn’t get out? And if there was a stream, it was probably at the bottom of the ravine.
The question was, which way should I go once I found it? I thought about calling out for DJ, but something stopped me. This woodland would be the perfect place for the goblins to hide in, and while I could take care of myself, DJ couldn’t.
Unable to shake off the feeling that there was something dangerous nearby, I began to descend through the ravine again, trying to make as little noise as I could.
Finally, I reached the bottom, and sure enough, found a small stream, about ten feet wide. On the other side, the ravine climbed back up.
I looked to the left and then to the right. Both directions vanished into the forest, curving out of sight. Frowning, I reached into the layers of scent again, searching for the scent of chocolate. A few moments later it bloomed again, coming from my right. At least the going would be easier, now that I was on level ground.
I made my way parallel to the stream, following the smell of candy. The water wasn’t extremely deep, but it ran swift, with foaming whitecaps as it burbled along.
I navigated around tree stumps, slogging around the soft banks of mud as I eyed the ground for any sign of footprints. I had gone about twenty yards when I caught a flash of something bright off a bush off to my right. Hurrying over, I saw that it was a red bandana. When I picked it up, I saw a smear of chocolate on it. There was a candy bar wrapper at the base of the bush as well.
I pulled out my phone and called Angel. Reception down in the ravine was full of static, but I managed to get through.
“What’s DJ’s favorite candy bar, and do you know if he had a red bandana with him?”
When she spoke, I could hear the fear in her voice. “Yes, he did. And it’s Choco-Nutmallow.”
I stared at the wrapper in my hand. Choco-Nutmallow, all right. DJ had come this way. “Don’t panic. I haven’t found anything to show that he’s hurt, but I’m on track. I’ll call you later when I have anything else to report.”
I pocketed the bandana and the candy wrapper, and started out again. The bush wasn’t far off from the stream, so I decided to keep going along the streambed.
Not far ahead, I spotted a disturbance in a pile of leaves. It looked like somebody had been rolling in them, or scuffling in them.
I knelt to examine the ground. Here and there I could see a footprint—the tread of a boot heel, I thought. And it looked like some of the surrounding plants had been trampled. Unless I missed my guess, some sort of altercation had taken place here. I inched ahead, looking for any sign I could find that DJ had been part of the tussle.
The moss wasn’t conducive to prints like mud or dirt were, but I spotted a few places where boots had made some sort of an indentation. But it couldn’t be DJ—not for that deep of an impression. He was too small. Either someone heavier had been through here, or several people had been walking in formation.
A noise alerted me and I turned around, wondering if I had been spotted. But all I could see was a faint silver glow up the slope in a thicket of the ravine. I gazed at it for a moment, and then I saw antlers.
It must be a stag, I thought. Caught in a beam of light, maybe. At that moment, the stag vanished behind a tree.
As I started up again, following the streambed, the undergrowth grew thicker as the stream narrowed. Up ahead I could hear something—water splashing. I could also hear voices. I froze, straining to hear what was being said. But even though I had good hearing, the water and the wind muffled everything into a blur of sound. I crouched down and began to creep forward, doing my best to avoid making any noise. There seemed to be a clearing up ahead, and I sure as hell didn’t want to accidentally out myself before I knew what I was dealing with. Or who I was dealing with.
I inched my way forward, gritting my teeth as I snapped a branch below my hand. But the voices continued, so I figured that I hadn’t been overheard. In fact, it sounded like I was going to interrupt what seemed to be a heated argument. When I was almost to the edge of the undergrowth, I stopped and slowly parted one of the bushes so that I could just peek through.
I was at the head of the streambed, and sure enough—there was a culvert at the end. In fact, that was where the water feeding the stream originated. The culvert rammed into the side of the hill, about four feet above the ground. Directly in front of it, I could see DJ. He was sitting on the ground, his hands tied behind his back, and he was gagged with what looked to be a white cloth.
Standing near him, arguing full force, were two men. They were Fae, I could tell that right off, both dressed in jeans and leather jackets. I could see daggers strapped to their belts. One was about five-eight, with long dark hair hanging down his back in multiple braids. The other was a little taller, and his hair was blond and shaggy. Both looked beefy enough to make tangling with them problematic. I focused on what they were arguing about.
“I don’t like killing kids,” the blond one said. “Can’t we just take him back to Névé?”
“She told us to get rid of anybody who overheard us. I’m not questioning a royal decree.” The dark-haired man laid his hand on his dagger. “It doesn’t matter what his age is, he overheard our plans and that makes him dangerous.”
Blondie shrugged. “We don’t know if he heard us or not.” He opened a small wallet and pulled out a note, reading it. “Kid doesn’t live too far from here. His name’s Derrick Juan Jackson.”
Crap. They knew where he lived now.
“You really want to thwart the Queen’s orders? I knew you were addled, but not that stupid. We have to do something because if he’s missing for too long, they’ll come out looking. We can stuff him deep in the culvert and they won’t find him for days. But if we stand around arguing any longer, we might get caught.”
“Don’t blame me,” the blond one said. “You’re the one who wanted to come out here and look for thalacious.”
I grimaced. Thalacious was a poisonous plant that was often used on daggers and arrows by more unsavory types. Given they were talking about taking DJ back to Névé told me they were from the Light Court.
“I didn’t think we were going to be overheard out here in the middle of the woods. Besides which, we were instructed to gather the herb by Quariala. I’m not disappointing Névé’s right-hand witch, thank you. I prefer to keep my dick intact. Besides, the kid’s a wolf shifter. One less shifter in the world isn’t going to do any harm.” Brownie snorted.
“Then you’re the one who’s going to have to take care of him. I won’t do it.” Blondie took a step back and crossed his arms. “I doubt if Sasha would agree with you.”