The Purcell home was immaculate with crisp, white plaster walls and gleaming wood floors. Ian and I followed Rangel down a long hallway past closed doors and into a large room decorated in light yellows and greens.
Two young girls, around eighteen or nineteen, sat on a cherry wood sofa covered in cream fabric woven with delicate pink and yellow flowers. The girls were holding hands and talking in hushed tones to a woman sitting in an armchair that matched the sofa. A tall, thin man with hair that was more gray than brown was standing at the window looking out, a drink in his hand.
When we walked in, the ladies stopped talking and turned to look at us. The woman stood up, smoothed her pristine skirt, and walked over to us. The man turned, but stayed where he was. His expression clearly stated that he would not move until he was sure we were worth his time and effort.
“Mr. and Mrs. Purcell, this is Agent Fiona Moon of the Black Blade Guard and Master Necromancer Ian Barroes.” Rangel made the introductions with practiced smoothness. “They are taking the lead on your daughter’s case.”
“If you are taking the lead, shouldn’t you be out looking for our daughter? She certainly isn’t here in our sitting room,” Mr. Purcell said from his spot by the window.
“Mr. Purcell, I understand your concern. I assure you that every available agent in the Black Blade Guard, as well as every City Guard Officer, are working to find your daughter,” I said, much more diplomatically than I felt. “Master Barroes and I just need a few minutes of your time.”
Suddenly, Mrs. Purcell let out a gasp. “Master Necromancer? Are you saying you think our Farah is dead?” She wailed, a little belatedly.
Behind her, the two girls whimpered a bit.
Before I could say anything, Ian cut in, “No, ma’am, we do not think that at all. As you know, all living beings are made up of energy. We leave bits of energy everywhere we go, especially in places of strong emotion or where we are particularly comfortable. I am trained to connect with energy left behind, which may give me clues to help look for Farah.”
Mrs. Purcell relaxed perceptibly at Ian’s smooth, soothing tone as he gave her the standard, approved party line given by all necromancers during crime investigations. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, just a crafty way of not telling the whole truth.
All beings were made up of energy, and they did leave behind residual energy everywhere they went. Also, necromancers were trained to connect with energy left behind in certain locations. However, that was where the truth got murky. The energy necromancers could “connect” with was the energy of people who have died.
But it doesn’t seem too smart to tell people, “Um, yeah, there are ghosts everywhere, and sometimes, they see things and know things no one else may see or know.” People just didn’t seem to take well to the idea that there could be ghosts watching their every move. And, understandably, if they knew, they would not be happy about necromancers going through their house, talking to the ghosts there that could tell all of their dirty little secrets. So, the Necromancer’s Guild had a patent explanation they told that didn’t lie, but didn’t tell the truth.
“So you are here to poke around Farah’s room?” Mr. Purcell asked, finally walking over to us.
“We would like to look around Farah’s room, yes,” I said, softly. “But we would also like to speak to you and Mrs. Purcell about the last time you saw Farah. We would also like to talk to Shani Lin and Maria Reece.” I nodded towards the two girls who still sat huddled on the sofa. It only seemed logical the two girls were the friends Farah had been with the night she disappeared since, according to her file, she didn’t have any siblings.
“Whatever you need, Master Barroes. Maria, Shani, why don’t you two go wait for the agents on the back porch,” Mrs. Purcell said.
“I’ll go with you.” Rangel smiled at the young women and ushered them out of the room.
“Fine,” grumbled Mr. Purcell, settling into a large armchair.
Mrs. Purcell sat next to him, perching on the edge of the sofa. “Please, have a seat,” she said, graciously.
Ian smiled and settled into the armchair opposite Mr. Purcell, leaving me to sit on the other end of the sofa. “Thank you. This won’t take long,” he said.
“I hope not. I am due at the senate house for a meeting with the chancellors,” Mr. Purcell said impatiently.
How nice it was of him to remind us of his importance. The man was really starting to chafe my nerves. The man’s daughter had been missing for three days, and he was acting as if we were wasting his time. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind. Ian obviously sensed my mood because he gave me a quelling glance. I tipped my head at him, almost imperceptibly, but he got the message and took the lead.
“I understand you have gone over all of this at least twice before, but it will help Agent Moon and me to hear your accounts directly from you. It is also common for details that may have slipped your mind to come back to you the more you retell the story,” he said, his tone soft and professional, effectively taking the bluster out of Mr. Purcell.
Though I had groused earlier that Ian wasn’t a crime investigator, he certainly had the spiel down. He had been working with the Blades long enough to learn the tricks of the trade. He also had a way of handling people without them knowing they had been handled.
I opened the file folder I had grabbed out of Mal’s saddlebag before we came in. Skimming the report inside, I looked up, directly into Mr. Purcell’s eyes. “Farah was only reported missing yesterday, but according to the report, she was last seen three days ago. Is it normal for your daughter to be away for a few days at a time without leaving word as to where she is?”
I had carefully schooled my tone to be professional and neutral, but I still expected Mr. Purcell to take offense at the question. I couldn’t have been more wrong. While Mr. Purcell did show strong emotion, it wasn’t outrage on his daughter’s behalf.
“As a matter of fact, Agent,” he blustered, obviously finding it too bothersome to remember my name. “It is exactly the kind of thing she does. She is likely holed up in some slum with some paranorm trash and will come straggling in when she runs out of bucks.”
It took everything I had to keep from pulling the man up by his ears and showing him what paranorm trash could do. But, of course, that would probably not go over too well back at headquarters. Damned rules. Instead, I made due with screaming at the idiot in my head. If I had a father like you, I’d stay gone for days at a time, too.
I glanced at Ian and saw by the tightening of his jaw he was trying hard to hold on to his ever-present control. His voice was measured as he said, “If that is true, Mr. Purcell, then why did you report her missing?”
“I didn’t,” Mr. Purcell snapped.
Nervously, Mrs. Purcell leaned forward a bit more on her perch on the edge of the sofa and turned to face us. “I reported her missing.”
The woman was so distressed that she was shaking, but I couldn’t tell if it was because she was concerned about her daughter or scared of her husband. I opened my senses just a bit. There was definite fear blasting off her, but when she leaned over and placed her hand on her husband’s knee, a wave of comfort washed over her. I closed down my magic.
“Mrs. Purcell, if your daughter is often gone, what made this time different?” I asked, making my voice as calming as possible.
“Oh, Granger exaggerates a bit. He and Farah have been having a hard time understanding each other lately.” She patted his knee and surprisingly, he didn’t protest her admonishment. He just covered her hand with his as she continued. “Farah is the first of either of our families to be a magic user. Though we have been assured by testing that her power levels are quite low, the differences are there. It is perfectly normal for her to want to hang out with other people who are like her.”
Assured her power levels are low? She said it as if being a mage was some sort of disease and power level was the indicator of how seriously infected the person was. I felt a pang of s
ympathy for Farah Purcell. Despite the trouble it would cause, I suddenly hoped Farah had decided to run away. If that was the case and I found her, there was no way I would drag her back to such a house, nor would I let anyone else do it.
Oblivious to the horror I couldn’t keep from showing in my face, Mrs. Purcell went on. “The reason it took me so long to realize she was missing was because she told me she was spending the weekend with Shani and Maria. When she wasn’t home yesterday morning, I scryed them both and they told me they hadn’t seen her. I immediately went to the City Guard office here in New Nashville and reported her missing.”
Tears welled in her eyes and her voice shook. “She might be a little wild, but it’s only to be expected of a girl of nineteen, especially one who is different from all of her friends and family. She always lets me know where she will be, even if she doesn’t tell her father.” She said the word “different” in a whisper, as if it were something to be hidden away, because who knew what the neighbors would think if they knew.
I now understood Mr. Purcell’s obvious dislike of us being in his home. Ian and I both, along with all of the City Guard officers and Blade agents were “paranorm trash”. Having us traipse through his home, touching his belongings, must be grating on every nerve in his body. I made a mental note to drag my hands along the walls as we went out.
“Mrs. Purcell, do you know the names of any of Farah’s paranorm friends?” I asked. The girl might just be holed up somewhere in Nash with friends, not realizing or caring that her parents may be worried. With the attitude they had shown me so far, she might think they wouldn’t care if she disappeared. Unfortunately, knowing the way Farah’s parents felt about her paranorm abilities opened more angles to explore instead of narrowing things down. There was a very good possibility that the girl had just ran away.
Mrs. Purcell sniffled. “I don’t think she has any, exactly. When she goes out, she always goes with Shani and Maria. The girls like to go into Nash City to the bars and shops frequented by other mages.”
“Are Shani Lin and Maria Reece mages as well?” Ian asked.
“Of course not,” Mr. Purcell said, shortly.
Mrs. Purcell squeezed his hand and added, “Shani and Maria have been Farah’s best friends since childhood. They have been very supportive of Farah since the emergence of her, um, abilities. They always go with her into the city. “
Three would be a safe number, during the day at least. At night, in the heart of Old Nash, three teenage girls, especially two norms and one low-level mage, would not be safe. It was foolish, or perhaps just ignorant, of Mrs. Purcell to condone such trips. Perhaps she thought Fiona could take care of herself.
“What nature are Farah’s powers? Has she studied with a mage-teacher to learn to master them?” I knew she was not enrolled at the Academy of Science and Magic, but perhaps she had a private tutor. That was common among rich families.
Mr. Purcell answered, “Farah is a telekinetic, but she can do little more than open and shut doors. She was seventeen when we realized her magic levels were high enough to register her as a mage, and she threw tantrums until we registered her at the Academy. Unfortunately, Farah has very little focus. She had fantasies of being some high-powered mage, but she was the weakest of her classmates. You see, among her friends around here, Farah is a novelty, the popular girl who is special because she can toss a ball across the road without touching it. At the academy, she was nothing special at all. In fact, compared to her classmates, she was a bit of a joke. Perhaps if she’d put in the work, she could have done well, but she barely lasted a month before throwing another tantrum to come home. Since then, she only uses her powers to show off for Shani and Maria.”
The more Mr. Purcell opened his mouth, the more I disliked him. Figuring we knew everything they could tell us at that point, and not wanting to be in the same room with them any longer, I thanked the Purcells for their time and asked if we could see Farah’s room before we spoke with her friends.
Mrs. Purcell led us up stairs and left us at the door to her daughter’s room, telling us to call her if we needed anything. I heard heavy footsteps in the downstairs hall and the front door slam just before we stepped into Farah’s room. Mr. Purcell was off to his meeting at the senate house.
Farah’s room was bigger than my apartment’s living and kitchen areas put together. The walls were covered in soft pink floral wallpaper and all the fabric in the room was of various shades of pink. The polished wood floor was covered with a large, woven rug in a soft pink and white chevron design. The room was immaculate. The large bed was neatly made with a fuchsia coverlet, a neat row of rag dolls arranged across the pillows. On the cherry vanity, several hairbrushes and combs were laid out in a neat row next to a cluster of glass bottles and vials that held various oils, lotions, and a basket with sundry hair clips. I opened the myriad of small drawers in the vanity and found hair clips, ribbons, jewelry, and other girly toiletries.
Farah Purcell was only a few years younger than River, but this room looked more like the room of a girl of nine or ten. When my sisters and I were in our late teens, our room had been a disaster of clothes and junk knick-knacks we bought at the public market covering every horizontal surface. Here, there was no dust or dirt, and nothing seemed out of place even a centimeter. The few knick-knacks and books were neatly arranged on the top of the large dresser.
I halfheartedly opened and closed the drawers of the dresser. All I found were neatly folded handkerchiefs, undergarments, and nightclothes. The closet held rows of expensive-looking clothes and shoes, but nothing else. The small writing desk in the corner was completely bare of anything but a jar of pencils. I hadn’t really expected to find anything since the entire place had been searched by the City Guard already and anything that might hold a clue, including Farah’s school notebooks, had been taken to Headquarters to be examined.
I was really just trying to look and feel busy, not useless while Ian did his thing. I never quite knew what to do with myself as a necromancer did his or her work. Once the spirits were summoned and the questioning began, I would interact a little, asking questions as needed, but the start of the process was a solitary practice that could take a little time. When there wasn’t a body to interact with, the necromancer summoned as many spirits in the vicinity as possible, then would speak to them for a moment to weed out those who might know something and were willing to cooperate. In my years of working with necromancers, I’ve learned that though there were spirits everywhere, most of them did not pay attention to living humans. Most of the older spirits who had been passed for more than a few decades faded to the point that they didn’t even see the living anymore, unless summoned by a necromancer. Only the strongest, or most stubborn, of spirits hung on to life and watched the living. Those spirits were often cranky. While a necromancer could summon such a spirit, coaxing them to cooperate was quite a different matter.
When I ran out of drawers and closets to look in, I turned to watch Ian. He stood in the middle of the room, his arms bent at the elbows and extended in front and slightly to either side of his body, palms up.
Every necromancer had a different way of summoning, but Ian always used this posture. I had asked him once why he stood that way, and he told me it was his way of bestowing respect on the passed spirits. He held his body open to them, showing he had nothing to hide and that he was asking for, not demanding, assistance. Whatever the reasoning, it worked. Ian had a higher success rate at getting helpful information than any other necromancer I had worked with.
I was careful to stay close to the wall, away from him, knowing he preferred privacy for this part. As I watched Ian look at people I couldn’t see, speaking in low, hushed tones, inclining his head, clearly listening to something I couldn’t hear. After a few moments, he relaxed his pose, dropping his hands to his sides, turning his head towards me, and motioning for me to come over.
I approached, careful to stand slightly behind and to the side opposite fro
m where his body was turned. According to Ian, the spirits hated it when someone stood in the middle of them. I couldn’t blame them; the idea didn’t sound too good to me either.
“Fiona, I’m speaking with Hailey. She has agreed to answer a few questions. She has already told me a little. Hailey was with us as we spoke with the Purcells. She told me Farah’s mother dotes on her, spoils her, but forbids her to speak of magic, especially around Mr. Purcell,” Ian said to me, turning his head back in the direction of the invisible Hailey.
“Hailey,” I said, keeping my gaze low in order to keep from staring past the spirit. “Have you ever heard Farah talk about a boyfriend? Do you think she would have run away?”
Ian didn’t have to repeat my question. Even though I couldn’t see or hear Hailey, she was completely aware of me. After a moment of careful listening, Ian turned back to me. “She doubts Farah would run away. Her father drowns her in gifts and money, even though he barely speaks to her. According to Hailey, Farah is spoiled and too attached to the luxury her father’s money and status affords her. As for a boyfriend, no. But Hailey has heard Farah and her friends talk about boys and men they have had sex with quite often.”
He turned his head back in the other direction for a moment, and then back to me. “It seems Farah goes out with her friends almost every night, and almost every night, she is quite disheveled when she gets in. Hailey says she has seen people look like that before, and it usually means they are addicted to drugs.”
I took in the information and nodded. “Hailey, do you know if you saw Farah the last time she was home? Before she went out?” I worded the question carefully, because ghosts didn’t have a good sense of time.
It took several minutes before Ian spoke. “Hailey likes to spend time around Farah, she reminds her of her little sister, so she is with her most of the time she is home. She was with Farah the last time she was here. Nothing seemed any different than any other night.”
“Thank you, Hailey,” I said.
Ian inclined his head, and then spoke again. “Hailey asked me to ask you to please find Farah. She really is a good girl, and it is very lonely here without her.”
My heart lurched. I didn’t know how long Hailey had been dead, and it would be rude to ask, but it was obvious she was clinging to the living world so fiercely that she couldn’t even interact with the other spirits in the area. What an incredibly lonely existence.
When I spoke, my voice was rough with emotion. “I will do everything in my power, Hailey. I promise. Thank you for talking with me. It was an honor to meet you.”
“Yes, thank you, Hailey.” Ian said, and then we left the room.
When we were in the hall, I quietly asked, “No sign of Farah’s spirit?”
“No, not at all. I don’t think she has passed, though it is still possible. Under normal circumstances, a spirit stays with the body for a few days, and in any circumstances, this house may not be where her spirit would choose to bounce back. It doesn’t seem to be a place of much comfort for her.”
“True enough,” I replied. “Okay, let’s go talk to those girls, though I’m not sure they will be much more help.”