“Monsters and mundanes?” Cain repeated, shaking his head. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

  “This is not how this situation was meant to go,” Fox said, sounding bored and appearing irritated.

  At the mention of terminating anyone, I cleared my throat. “My son is missing and that’s all I care about at the moment. Whatever gripes you have with each other can wait.” I speared my expression between Ophelia, Cain and Fox.

  “I will have my pound of flesh,” Ophelia spat.

  “Hexes and Hoarfrost, you homicide happy hag,” Fox spat, clearly ignoring me as he glared at Ophelia. “If you’d just listen to me for once, I could explain the reason I’m here. And don’t go quoting the rulebook to me. Under Section 257 of the Hollows charter, you’re meant to have someone in the mundanes’ infrastructure who can intercede for you, be that law enforcement, city council, or other government body. Forgive me for trying to give you a friendly shove in the right direction.”

  “It wasn’t your place!” Ophelia hissed, and her eyes bled entirely to black. Pupil, iris, sclera, all of it inky black.

  The air in the room was growing thicker by the second, and it tasted like the smell of rotted fruit. I covered my mouth and nose with my palm.

  Cain Morgan planted his feet stubbornly and raised his voice over the bickering pair. “There are children missing and you two want to waste time quibbling over codes and secret societies?”

  Cain didn’t wait for them to answer. Instead, he drilled his stare into me. “If your son is missing, why am I the last to hear of it?”

  I didn’t know how to answer his question. How the hell could I explain what had happened without getting locked in a rubber room for the rest of my life? ‘I think a ghost or some type of magical entity took my son. No, Officer, I’m not on drugs…’

  “I can’t… I can’t answer that. I… just… panicked,” I said.

  Cain looked at each one of us in turn, his focus hesitating on Marty. “What in blue blazes is going on here?”

  Marty stepped forward, hands up in a pacifying gesture. His eyes were soft and pleading. “Cain, Poppy and I already alerted you to the missing children.”

  “You did what?” Ophelia bellowed.

  Marty ignored her. “Finn disappeared an hour or so ago and Poppy has been in a panic ever since…”

  Cain started to argue, but everyone was dumbfounded as Ophelia chose that moment to climb onto her desk, crouch low, and perform one of the most nightmarish things I’d ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Her bones cracked, joints protruding grossly against her paisley blazer. She spider-crawled on all fours towards Cain like something out of a horror film, unhinging her jaw as she went. Her yellow teeth elongated, and more of the rotting fruit smell poured from her mouth.

  “Enough of this!” I yelled, hoping I could stop whatever Ophelia was doing. “I need to find my son!”

  But no one responded. All eyes were on Ophelia.

  My heart hammered in my chest and I felt my mouth drop open as my brain tried to make sense of what was happening. Cain had a split second to turn his head in her direction, eyes going wide, mouth parting as though he might scream.

  “Ophelia, don’t!” Roy shouted.

  But it was too late.

  Ophelia launched herself at Cain. She landed on his chest.

  His fear was thick in the air when Ophelia made contact with him. He immediately began to suffer sudden cardiac arrest. It was exactly how Libby had died in the 1950s after she’d managed to push Ophelia one step too far.

  There was a blinding flash of red-gold light and Ophelia was knocked back the way she’d come, performing a clumsy somersault over her executive desk, toppling her rolling chair as she went. Another blinding flash of red-gold light and Cain Morgan was lying sprawled on the ground, trussed head to toe in thick ropes of autumn ivy. Even his face was obscured by the stuff, with the exception of his nose, which poked out of the leaves like a flesh-colored twig, ruffling them every time he exhaled. He looked like a leafy mummy.

  Everyone stared at the police officer for a moment, and then craned their necks to look at the only likely culprit, who lounged near the back of our group.

  But, Wanda looked as startled as the rest of us.

  Lorcan bumped Wanda’s shoulder with his own. “I thought you said nature magic wasn’t your specialty, sweetling. Nice going, though.”

  Wanda shook her head, her eyes still wide. I wasn’t even sure when she and Lorcan had arrived.

  “That… that wasn’t me.” She pointed a shaking finger at Fox as soon as she recognized him. “Blame him.”

  Fox was kneeling by Cain’s head, fingers pressed against his temples. Marty was right beside him, trying to shake his cousin back into consciousness. Fox sighed as he looked up at us. “Stupid hag shouldn’t have used her true form on the human. That’s going to be a literal nightmare to erase from his conscious mind, if it’s even possible, considering his family history...”

  “What are you saying?” Marty demanded.

  “I’m saying I need to take care of…” he looked around himself. “All of this or she’ll kill him...”

  “Take care of it?” I repeated.

  Fox looked at me and sighed. “I have to wipe the Chief’s memory. There’s no other solution.”

  He sighed again, and as we watched, another burst of red-gold light filled the room. When it faded, I was left blinking spots from my eyes. There was only a stretch of empty carpet and a dusting of autumn leaves where Cain had lain only seconds before. Fox stood, dusting orange, brown, and gold flakes off his slacks and overcoat before turning to us all with a sly smile.

  “Where’d he go?” Marty demanded, looking at Fox for an answer.

  “Somewhere safe for the time being,” Fox answered with a shrug. Then he looked at Ophelia. “And safely away from her.”

  “What are you?” I demanded.

  Fox looked at me. “Ah, drat. Well, I suppose the cat’s now out of the bag.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but my attention was pulled to Ophelia as she stood, brushing herself off, apparently back to normal again. Or as close to normal as she got, anyway. At least she wasn’t the hideous spider-like hag she’d been a few seconds ago.

  “That was a dirty trick,” she said as she glared daggers at Fox.

  He grinned unrepentantly. “It’s what I do, Ophelia. You ought to know that by now.”

  “Why are you here?” Roy demanded.

  Fox turned to face him. “I’m here on behalf of Jonathan Moses. I owed him a favor, and I’m here to cash that favor in by picking up Todhchaí.”

  Ophelia raised a brow. “I was under the impression she was restrained.”

  Fox faced Ophelia. “Yes, well, she’s not. And we aren’t exactly sure why she’s here, but the fact remains that she is.” He cleared his throat. “And as I understand it, Olwen will be settling here permanently next year. But as you can imagine, that is precisely what’s drawn in the others.”

  Ophelia’s eyes lit in sudden understanding. “Blast!”

  At the mention of Olwen, I rounded on Fox. “You said you knew something about the people who took the Stomper girls and the Rutledge boy, and now they’ve taken my son. I want answers and I want them now!”

  Fox approached me and laid a hand on my wrist. “Calm down, Ms. Morton.”

  “Don’t you tell her to calm down,” Marty said as he took a step forward, his eyes furious. “And don’t touch her.”

  Roy gave Marty a look I couldn’t make out but Marty only had eyes for Fox.

  Fox chuckled at him and then me. “The children are alive. The Winter Court of Faerie may be ruthless, but even they don’t like killing children.”

  “The Winter Court of Faerie?” I repeated, shaking my head.

  Fox nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid some of this may be my fault.”

  “No doubt, it’s all your fault,” Ophelia added.

  Fox continued. “This is what I would term an escalation. The Winter Court must have sensed my magic on you, Ms. Morton, which was why your son was targeted. They must think you’re the foster family.”

  “Foster family?” I repeated, voice shaking. It was an effort not to grab him again. “Faeries?”

  He nodded. “Faeries. The Fair Folk. Elves and sprites, pixies. There are four courts, though for now, you really only need to worry about two.”

  “Winter and Autumn,” I said.

  He gave me a small half-smile. “Astute. And, in this case, the Winter Court is what I would term the ‘bad guys’ and as I hail from the Autumn Court, we are the good ones.”

  “Then the children have been taken by the fae?” Wanda asked, shouldering her way to the front of the group. Fox looked at her and nodded. “It’s sort of obvious in hindsight,” she continued, sounding bored again. “Gone and untraceable by conventional or magical means. Nothing short of fae magic could have accomplished that.” She faced me then. “If we’d been thinking straight, we’d have come to that conclusion a lot sooner.”

  “That’s exactly the point of a befuddlement charm, dear,” Fox said, recovering himself quickly.

  “What befuddlement charm?” I demanded.

  He looked at me. “Janara’s pet sorceress, Wren, is adept at them.”

  Janara? Pet sorceress? “Wren?” I repeated, my eyes widening as dawning erupted through me. “Does that mean Janara is the one behind this?”

  Fox nodded. “Janara is currently the Queen of the Winter Court, but she’s not the rightful Queen. She’s an interloper. And, yes, Wren is her sorceress. If Wren bats her pretty eyelashes at you, you don’t know right from left and up from down. I suspect that’s how Janara’s been luring the children away from their families.”

  “But, Wren is twelve years old! She’s just a child,” I argued, shaking my head as I tried to understand. “And she went missing with Finn.”

  “Wren isn’t twelve, my dear,” Fox corrected me with a chuckle. “She’s twelve hundred. She’s no more a girl than I’m a middle-aged hunter.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “The good news is that I’m convinced the children are safe,” Fox continued as he faced me, and I could see the truth in his eyes.

  “Why do you think that?” I asked.

  “Janara might have kidnapped them, but she won’t kill them because then she won’t have a bargaining chip,” he explained. “She wants to secure her crown, not murder the children. Janara is searching for the foster family to Olwen. When she finds that foster family, she plans to ransom the children in return for Olwen. Clearly, she first believed the foster family was Stanley and Shelby, then she assumed it was Louisa Rutledge and now I believe she thinks you are the foster family, Poppy.”

  “But, I’m not,” I shook my head. “I don’t even know who this Olwen is.”

  “Yes, though Janara does not know that,” Fox continued.

  “So who is this foster family?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “All I know is that the family resides in Portland.”

  “Then they aren’t even in Haven Hollow?” I asked, my eyes going wide.

  “No. Portland,” Fox answered.

  “So why would Janara bother herself with Haven Hollow?” Wanda demanded.

  “Janara, her prophet Rime, and her little sorceress, Wren, have been skulking around Haven Hollow for the better part of a week, trying to catch my second cousin and betrothed, Olwen,” Fox answered.

  “Olwen is your betrothed?” I asked, still trying to understand how all of this fit together.

  “Yes, and she’s also the true heir to the throne of Winter,” Fox explained. “Janara fears Olwen’s return above all else because it will mean the end of Janara’s rule.”

  “You’re going to marry your cousin?” Marty asked, pulling a face. “Isn’t that… illegal?” Then he shook his head. “Not to mention… kind of gross.”

  Fox sobered as he faced Marty. “It’s not uncommon in royal bloodlines.”

  “Going back to this faerie court business,” I started, giving Marty a look that said he’d better not steer the conversation into the realm of the unimportant again.

  “Olwen’s aunt is Janara, and when Olwen was an infant, Janara had her parents killed,” Fox continued. “She almost succeeded in murdering Olwen, as well. But, Jonathan, my employer, hid Olwen with a magical foster family to keep her safe.”

  “Then Janara has been searching for that foster family all this time,” I said. “Never realizing the foster family doesn’t even live in Haven Hollow.”

  Fox nodded. “Because Janara believes Olwen is in Haven Hollow, she believes Olwen’s foster family is also living in Haven Hollow.” He took a breath. “Janara was abducting children in an attempt to try to ransom Olwen’s foster family. If she gets access to Olwen, she can ensure Olwen’s death and that is exactly her plan.”

  “Why wouldn’t Jonathan just tell you where Olwen is, since he’s the one who hid her in the first place?” I asked.

  Fox shrugged. “The Autumn Court is at war with the Winter Court. Jonathan wanted to ensure that if I were captured by Winter’s soldiers and tortured for information, I wouldn’t be able to betray Olwen.” He took a breath. “But because the spell that keeps Olwen protected is breaking down, we have learned that Olwen is meant to return here, to Haven Hollow, but she is not set to return for one whole year.”

  “So… Olwen isn’t even here yet?” I repeated, shaking my head.

  “No, she’s not,” Fox answered.

  “Then why is Janara here now if Olwen hasn’t even arrived yet?” Roy asked.

  “Because Janara was relying on Rime’s gift of prophecy. And Rime’s gift of prophecy was thrown off balance with the arrival of Todhchaí in Haven Hollow. Janara doesn’t realize that Todhchaí’s arrival has interfered with Rime’s sight though. Rime believes Olwen is already in Haven Hollow, but as I mentioned before, Olwen isn’t meant to arrive for another year.”

  I frowned. “You’re saying a ghost, Todhchaí, is somehow responsible for throwing off the timeline?”

  Fox smiled. “Indeed. Janara is here a year early because Rime’s predictions are a year off. Rime believes Olwen is in Haven Hollow now. Todhchaí’s presence has warped the flow of time, you see. Janara believes she must act now to prevent Olwen from taking her rightful place as Queen.”

  “Wait a second,” Marty said, shaking his head as he faced Fox. “You’re saying a ghost can interfere with faerie magic?”

  “Not just any ghost…”

  “How does that even work?” Marty insisted. “How powerful is this thing? And what is it, for that matter?”

  Fox leaned his weight against Ophelia’s desk, settling in. “The name Todhchaí comes from the Old Irish. It means ‘time-ahead’. Or more colloquially, ‘future’. You might know her more traditionally as The Ghost of Christmas Future.” There was a collective round of shocked sighs, but Fox continued. “Todhchaí usually appears in the winter months and she’s quite dangerous to humans with weak constitutions, so when Jon learned she was in Haven Hollow, he sent me to wrangle her before she could do any damage.”

  And that’s when everything started to make sense. “Oh, for the love of...” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I am going to kill Darla… well, if she weren’t already dead! This is all her fault!”

  Fox raised an eyebrow and frowned at me. “Darla?”

  The memory bubbled to the surface of my mind, and my face burned. “Darla is a ghost that haunts my house,” I explained to Fox. “It was maybe a week or so ago, on Christmas Eve, that Darla was reciting A Christmas Carol in Pig Latin. During the recital, she broke a vial of a very powerful potion, Mystic Veil, something capable of breaking through to the Astral Plane.” Everyone was looking at me with the same confused expression on their faces. “Darla must have summoned the Ghost of Christmas Future from beyond the veil!”

  “Interesting,” Fox said as he nodded. “And she did so on Christmas Eve, the only time Todhchaí can be summoned.” He looked up at me. “That’s exactly why Todhchaí is here.”

  “So, who are you?” Marty asked as he faced Fox and narrowed his eyes.

  “I’m the Prince of the Faerie Court of Autumn,” Fox answered, and all of a sudden his magical abilities started to make sense.

  Marty nodded. “So... let me see if I’ve got this right… You’re the Prince of Autumn and you came to town on a clandestine mission to retrieve the Ghost of Christmas Future. While here, you realized the false queen to the Winter Court, Janara, is also here and wants to ax your lady love, Olwen. But Janara’s actually here a year before Olwen is ever set to arrive in Haven Hollow, because Poppy’s house ghost accidentally summoned the Ghost of Christmas Future while she was peacocking in front of Poppy’s creepy uncles? And now Janara’s holding the town’s kids hostage, demanding we turn over a princess we don’t actually have?”

  Fox nodded. “That’s a fairly succinct summary of the current situation, yes.”

  “So how do we find them?” I asked. “How do I find my son?”

  Fox sighed. “We don’t have a lot of good options, I’m afraid. The only thing we can do is arrange a trade with Janara, something that’s impossible, owing to the fact that we have no hostage to trade for the children.”

  “Unless someone disguised themselves as Olwen,” I suggested.

  Fox inhaled deeply, but then shook his head. “It is a huge risk.”

  “Does Janara know what Olwen looks like?” I asked.

  Fox hesitated. “Not exactly as Janara hasn’t seen Olwen since she was a babe, when Jonathon took Olwen and placed her with a foster family in Portland.”

  “Then that’s our plan!” I said, clapping my hands together as I turned to face Wanda. “And, you, Wanda, will play the part of Olwen.”

  Wanda’s mouth dropped open. “Me?” she insisted.