Page 4 of Bargains with Benefits
“Oh, Vincent, do come in.” She still sorted papers into piles on her desk.
“I was hoping we could speak more about the opportunities for feature pieces.” My mouth felt dry all of a sudden. “I can help.”
“Do you have a particular angle or topic you wish to cover?” While this was an innocent enough question, one any editor would want to know before assigning a story, it occurred to me that her hesitation might not be only because of my successful recommendation column. Daisy was human, and Arnold was Vesten, or fire fae, but I was the only one of old fae descent working at the paper. Unfortunately, as Daisy had alluded to, the old fae families were known to resist the court changes the hardest. Maybe Patricia didn’t think me up to the task of writing pieces potentially misaligned with my family’s perspective.
“I want to dig into something meaningful.” I paused.
That wasn’t good enough. The words she wanted to hear were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t force them out. I wasn’t sure I was genuinely willing to do it. I may not get on with my parents, but that was a private matter, a family matter. It wasn’t something I’d share with colleagues. I rubbed the back of my neck with indecision. This job was what I wanted for myself—outside of the Andiveron name. If I needed to say something…distasteful about old fae families, I could do so.
Probably.
Internally, my wind surged against the cage of my upbringing, which demanded I not publicly air family business, but Patricia was still waiting for a response. At least, it seemed she was taking my request seriously.
“Sandrin is my home. I want to show everything it offers. If you’re asking, I’m not afraid to dig into the best and worst of the fae here.”
Her smile flashed too eagerly. Then, a little too quickly, shepulled a file from the drawer on her left. Had it been waiting there for this conversation?
“It happens I have an unverified tip requiring investigation.” She sniffed the air with distaste. “I’d ignore it, but…if we have someone able to verify it, it would be quite the story.” She handed me the folder.
I restlessly tapped my foot on the floor as I flipped through it. I was positive I’d set myself up for this. There were financial records of Darius Pierce, head of another old fae family, though he was Norden, or water fae. They showed a significant transfer of funds from his estate to the human governor a few weeks ago.
“I’m sure Darius didn’t share this willingly.” I flipped to the next page. It was a scrap of paper. The tear was too deep to read everything, but the wordsstopandschoolwere quite clear. Lastly, the folder held a memory stone. I picked it up slowly. It was a rare gift of some Suden, or earth fae, to see and manipulate memories. With more recent experiments in blood magic, memory stones had become fashionable. One could pick a memory and think it into the stone. Those who rubbed the stone could review its contents in the future. I’d written about them weeks ago.
“You’ll want to watch that, but I can tell you it shows Darius meeting with Marion, the governor. They were having lunch at that restaurant outside the park. He handed her an envelope that corroborated the transaction detailed in those documents.”
“Was the memory holder close enough to hear anything?” I understood why she thought this could be a big story if verified, but these collected scraps were weak.
She shook her head. “The tip, as you can guess, says Darius is bribing the governor to stop the development of the magic school.”
Unfortunately, this would conveniently explain why we hadn’t heard any news about the school since its announcementweeks ago. Still. “This is a serious accusation on no evidence.” Rumors about the position of old fae families was one thing. Printing a story like this was another. The Norden Point would not take kindly to an old fae family trying to undermine her authority.
Patricia gave me a half smile. “The payment is clear.”
I laughed. “Yes, but he could have been paying her for groceries for all we know.”
She reached for the folder. “I’d never print it as it is, but you said you wanted to dig into something.”
The folder didn’t immediately release from my grip when she tugged. My fingers clamped around it, and I wasn’t sure why. “Why me? I don’t know Darius. He’s Norden. I’m Osten. What makes you think I’m capable?”
“All of the old fae in this city know each other.” She sighed. While true, the statement didn’t consider the court prejudices the old fae still held. “Look, you were the one that asked for more. I have this. It needs work, but it could be a story worth telling. An old fae family fighting against the progress the Compass Points are pushing for. It’s news.”
“If it’s real,” I hedged.
She conceded. “If it’s real. That’s part of feature writing, Vincent. You can’t simply pick the newitthing like you do with your recommendations. You attempt many wrong directions before finding the right angle for a story. The facts have to be there, but so does the why. Why should our readers care? What are we showing them about the continent? What can they do about it?”
Patricia was usually reserved, but there was a swell of emotion in her voice. This story meant something to her. Maybe she had friends or family who wished to attend the school. Could Darius have done something to put a halt to it? Why?
I didn’t like that this tip assumed the worst, but I was also arealist. I could hear my parents’ opinions in my head, and I hadn’t even spoken to them about it.“The half-fae will make a mockery of our magic. They don’t know how to use it.”
The fact that no one had taught them how to use it like the rest of us would be irrelevant. My wind magic swelled within me.
I’d rather someone with good intentions investigate than someone who painted all old fae with the same aversion to change. I clenched and released my teeth in consideration. My fingers still gripped the folder.
“I’ll look into it.”
3
Luna
