Page 36 of Devils and the Dead
Mirabelle swatted her again. “No, you fool. She’s saying…oh, never mind. Go in the back and grade the emeralds. I’ll finish up with Babylon.”
Amilae went into the back room, grumbling under her breath. We watched her go, then Mirabelle pulled the onyx earrings out from under the case.
“We have a deal, Babylon Perkins. You buy the onyx earrings at full retail, and ensure our festival is undisturbed by undead, and I will tell you all I know about the elves on Savior Mountain.”
I bit back a grin. Cassie wasn’t the only Perkins witch that could play hardball when she needed to. I handed her my credit card, slipping the little silk bag with the earrings into my purse when we’d completed the transaction. Then Mirabelle leaned on the counter, ready to deliver on her part of the bargain.
“The elves arrived in Accident one hundred years ago. I went to welcome them, and see if we could work something out between us. My sisters and I were eyeing one of the springs up on Savior Mountain for a festival. They had just arrived from their homeland and were unfamiliar with life here—among other supernaturals as well as in Accident. Aside from a brief meeting with Isadora Perkins, the head witch at the time, they didn’t speak to anyone, or socialize with anyone. When I went up there, they seemed to be on edge and frightened.” Mirabelle shrugged. “Elves are weird. It’s not like the fairies were going to want to be their besties, so I gave up on us using the spring, and left.”
“How many were there?” I asked.
“Twelve or thirteen.” She frowned. “Thirteen. Yes, there were thirteen.”
“How long were they here before they vanished?”
She shrugged. “Seventy years? None of us really know. After a decade or so, we all kind of forgot they were up on the mountain. They never came to town, never interacted with anyone else in Accident. They could have been gone for a decade and we wouldn’t have noticed.”
“But someone eventually noticed,” I commented.
Mirabelle nodded. “I don’t know who, though. Someone must have gone up there and found their village abandoned, because the gossip spread like wildfire. No one knew exactly when they’d left or why. They were just all gone.”
“Everyone thought they’d gone home,” I said, remembering what I’d been told as a child.
“Yes. There was no sign of violence, no bodies, no burned or destroyed buildings. Not that anyone would have reason to attack them. They kept to themselves, and we pretty much forgot all about them.”
“What do you know about their homeland?” I asked, knowing who had cursed the elves and why, but wanting to get as much background as I could on the situation.
“Fae lands are worlds of illusion and magic.” She smiled fondly. “We all can come and go as we please, through the mists or mirrors, or a beam of moonlight, or the rings of mushrooms or stones on hallowed ground. Such beauty. Such elegance. We all love and cherish our homelands.”
“Then why stay here?” I wondered. Mirabelle had been living in Accident for over two hundred years—which probably wasn’t all that long in the life of a fae, but seemed an odd length of time for someone who loved their homeland so.
“It’s interesting here. We seek that which is new and unique and beautiful. The world here is raw and harsh, but that has its own appeal. Some fairies come and go—like a day-long vacation that lasts a few years or a decade or so. Others enjoy the experience and remain for hundreds of years.” She sniffed. “Clearly these elves found themselves unable to adjust.”
“They were cursed,” I told her. “They were murdered and cursed, and their spirits now roam Savior Mountain, crying out for justice.”
All the color drained from Mirabelle’s silvery skin. “Wwwwhat?” she stuttered. “Who? Who would do such a thing? Did they break the rules? Was it Isadora Perkins who cursed them?”
At first I was shocked that Mirabelle would think that one of the Perkins witches would be responsible, but we were the law here in Accident. It was inconceivable to think that someone could have snuck into Accident on our watch and cursed an entire group of elves, so she’d immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was a punishment meted out by the ruling witch at the time.
“No, it wasn’t Isadora who cursed them, it was their elven queen.” I watched for her reaction, but the fairy only frowned. “From what I’ve been told by the dead, an elf named Tinsel stole an artifact called the Everbloom from his queen. He thought the theft had gone undetected. He and the others came here and hid the Everbloom on Savior Mountain. The queen found out and came for them.”
Mirabelle sucked in a breath. “Well, then justice was served. Death is the punishment for theft. But did their queen go to the head witch when she arrived, present her grievance and evidence, and get the witch’s approval for the punishment?”
I needed to check the journals in the attic, but I was pretty sure the answer to that would be no. If the queen had gone to the head Perkins witch at the time, then the elves would not be haunting Savior Mountain. If there had been evidence of theft, the head witch probably would have revoked permission for the elves to remain here, and allowed the queen to take them back to their homeland for punishment, but she wouldn’t have approved the curse.
“I doubt whoever was the head witch knew anything about it.” I hated to admit that flaw in our protection of the residents of Accident, but I couldn’t completely blame my great grandmother, or my grandmother. Some Perkins witches were stronger in magic than others. The weak ones did their best, but sometimes their best wasn’t enough. We were lucky. There were seven of us, and Cassie was one of the strongest witches the town had seen in generations. Not all the previous witches had been so lucky.
“Savior Mountain.” Mirabelle grimaced. “They’re cursed and haunting Savior Mountain, where the new werewolf clan has taken up residence. And we all know how werewolves feel about ghosts.”
“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Any ideas on what sort of curse the elven queen might use? And how to break it?”
She shook her head. “Your sister Sylvie might have a chance at breaking the curse, but I doubt it. Fae queens are strong in their magic. This queen is most likely the only one who will be able to break the curse and she’ll have no reason to want to do that. Unless you have something she wants, that is.”
Fae and their bargains.
“The dead have told me she was seeking the Everbloom and that they didn’t reveal its location to her,” I said.
Mirabelle winced. “I’m sure their deaths and their cursed afterlives are agonizingly painful. They stole from their queen and refused to return the object. I can’t say I blame her for cursing them all.”
