Confession of a Medium: Chapter Five

The Case Files of Sheridan Bell #2

Welcome to The Case Files of Sheridan Bell, a fantasy-mystery webseries about an up-and-coming private detective in the city of Tamarley.

Happy Halloween Eve, my friends!

After Henry called Renna's carriage and collected their coats, a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. He turned to find Inspector Zhou, expression unreadable. When the man nodded toward a private hallway, Henry followed without question.

“Keep a close eye on Mrs. Hale. She refused a police escort, but between you and me, I don't think that chandelier was intended for Ms. Scott," Yichen said as soon as they were far enough from the others.

Dread sank in Henry's chest. He looked back at Renna and Taise in the foyer; they stood closely together, making awkward small talk while they waited for Renna's carriage. Renna's eyes were nervous, darting from guest to guest as they passed her.

“You may be right," Henry said, “But I'd recommend keeping watch over Ms. Scott, just in case."

Yichen nodded. “As for your other companion…Henry, you heard what that Brona woman said, during the incident with the Hathaways. About what Lord Anghau did to his father."

“I did. What's your point, Inspector?"

Inspector Zhou's lips pressed into a thin line. “Just…take care, Henry. Be careful."

Henry rejoined Renna and Taise just as Renna's carriage pulled up the drive. “Morham Court, if you please," Renna called to the driver as she climbed inside.

“Not Thornapple Hall?" Henry asked, climbing up behind her.

“Absolutely not. I'm sick of looking at fancy things, and if I have to see one more chandelier, I may lose my mind. I'm staying with my parents tonight, and that's that," Renna said, but Henry thought of Peregrine Hale's quiet, empty estate and wondered if Renna had other reasons for not wanting to be there alone.

“Lord Anghau and I move in overlapping circles, of course, but I didn't realize the two of you knew each other," Renna continued, gesturing between Henry and Taise. Taise settled in the seat beside Henry, looking very pleased with himself.

“We've known each other a very long time," Taise said. “Since we were children, in fact."

Renna perked up. “Oh, did you, now? What was he like in those days? He never talks about his younger days, even when I beg and plead."

“Now hold on a moment," Henry interrupted. “I still have some questions about tonight. Renna, tell me honestly. If there's even a small chance someone wants to hurt you, I—"

“More than a small chance, I think. I'm sure the inspector already said something similar, so I won't embarrass myself keeping the secret. I'm quite certain that chandelier was intended for me, not dear Celine. Perry had enemies, and so do I. I've never hesitated to speak my mind a day in my life and I have money. For some people, that's all they need." Seeing Henry open his mouth to ask more questions, she continued, “Before you ask, Hen, I don't know how I would narrow it down."

Henry sat back in his seat, frowning. “If you want me to look into it, you know you need only ask," he said.

“I know, and I won't. It's not that I doubt your abilities, Hen. I know you're good at what you do. But I have my own men to 'look into it', as you say, and they won't poke all around in my business in the process."

Henry's mouth fell open. “I would not—"

“Yes, you would. I know you; you like to be thorough. Don't worry about me, truly. Only my driver and assistant know I'm spending the night at Morham Court, besides the two of you, and they'll be there to pick me up first thing tomorrow. There are no safer hands, I assure you." Renna opened her purse and revealed a small revolver tucked inside. “And I'll sleep with this tonight, just to be safe."

Henry tried not to pout over her rejection, but he did stare glumly out the window for the rest of the drive, letting Renna and Taise continue on with their small talk. At the door to her parents' flat, Renna said, “Goodnight, Henry! And it was a pleasure to see you, Lord Anghau. I appreciate you escorting us home."

And then she left them without another word, shutting the door definitively behind her.

“I also appreciate it," Henry told Taise, turning to him in the narrow hall. He caught Taise in the middle of a great, big yawn, the sidhe's sharp canines flashing in the low light. Amused, Henry added, “And I'm sorry to keep you out so late."

“It's no trouble," Taise said, but he pulled a watch out of his pocket and frowned down at it. “Ah, but I didn't realize how late it was. Getting through Customs at this hour will be difficult." He punctuated this with a quick look up at Henry through his lashes. “I suppose I'd better be going…"

Henry smiled. “I don't have a guest room, but you could sleep on my sofa, if you'd like."

Taise's watch was gone and tucked away in an instant. He grinned back at Henry, mischievous and very much awake. “I wouldn't want to put you out," he said, too cheerful for it to be genuine.

“Like you said, it's no trouble," Henry said. The truth was, he felt wrong-footed still, shaken from almost watching Renna die. He kept replaying the moment in his mind, how useless he'd been. How little he'd done, how little he could still do. What would he have told Ines? How could he have ever looked Joseph in the eye again?

So he wouldn't mind a distraction.

He led Taise up to his flat. With his easy regality and rich, gold-lined clothing, the sídhe looked horribly out of place among Henry's mismatched furniture and scattered books. “Let me see if I have something more comfortable for you to wear," Henry said, turning away from the sight.

In his bedroom, he changed into something more comfortable himself, something that wasn't stiff with champagne, before returning to the living room and offering Taise a small stack of clothing. “The pants may be too short, so you know. The kitchen is there, if you need food or water, and the bathroom is just down the hall."

Taise turned from perusing Henry's bookshelves to take the change of clothes. He smiled. “This place is charming. I don't think I had a chance to tell you, last time I was here."

Looking around at his mess, Henry flushed. He never minded the clutter when it was clients meeting him here, but he felt embarrassed that Taise should see the place in such a state. He perched on his desk, carefully hiding the mess of papers and ink that was his latest research project.

Taise barely seemed to notice. From the bookshelves, he crossed to the mantle, looking at the few small mementos Henry had displayed there. “When did your family leave Dryden Street?" he asked, leaning in to study an old photograph. He didn't see Henry wince.

“You remember that, do you?" Henry asked.

The question, or perhaps something in Henry's tone, surprised Taise into looking at Henry again, his eyes wide. “Of course I do. How could I forget?"

It was only thirteen years before that Henry had found a young sídhe boy, dirty and half-starved, on the front steps of his family home. The boy was a changeling, one of many unlucky souls who slipped between the two Tamarleys and found themselves unable to return. Henry had brought him inside, fed him, and eventually, helped him get home. Of course, that boy had been Taise.

Henry himself thought of those days so rarely, he'd almost forgotten the insight Taise had into his past. He shifted uncomfortably.

“I tried to find you again, once I had the means," Taise continued. “I tried to find you so many times, Henry. I spoke with the people who bought your home, with your family's solicitor, with your neighbors, but no one knew where you went. Changing your surname—you only go to those lengths if you're running from one of the sídhe. It wasn't me you were running from, was it?"

“Of course not," Henry said, eyes widening. He sighed. No way around it. “It's true that our leaving wasn't entirely by choice. I wish I could have left some clue for you to find us, but honestly, I hadn't realized I'd made such an impression."

“I owe you my life, Henry. I would have died in this city, if not for you," Taise said, approaching. “A sídhe does not take that lightly. Everything I have, it's thanks to you."

“I'm just glad you're well," Henry said, too embarrassed to look to Taise.

“And I'm glad that I've found you, finally," Taise countered. He watched Henry carefully for a moment, then asked, “How are your parents?"

Henry relaxed, grateful for the shift from the past to the present. “It's been a while since I've visited them, but I trust they're well," he said. “They live in a cottage to the south, by the sea."

Taise smiled. “Good. And your sister? Is she with them?"

Henry winced again. Knowing the question was coming didn't make it any easier to hear. “No. She passed, I'm afraid."

Taise dropped heavily to sit on Henry's couch. He looked more shocked than Henry had ever seen him, more, even, than when he was nearly framed for murder. “I—I can't believe it. Henry, I'm sorry."

“It's quite alright," Henry said, clipped. “It was nearly a decade ago."

“I owed her so much, too," Taise said, staring at Henry's coffee table without really seeing it. “I thought I'd have time to repay her kindness. How did it happen?"

“Illness," Henry said. He busied himself with closing the blinds, so Taise wouldn't wake to morning light streaming in from the east. Without facing Taise, he said, “But as long as we're speaking of family, I have questions I could ask you."

“Ah," Taise said. It was his turn to look uncomfortable; Henry turned to find him playing with the ends of his long, silver hair. Instead of waiting for Henry to ask, he said, “You're referring to what Brona said, aren't you? It's true, and I'm not sorry for it."

“I never said you had to be. I'm not the police, and I have no interest in pretending to be. I also can't claim to understand the intricacies of sídhe morality," Henry said. He sat across from Taise, in his favorite armchair, and tucked his knees up toward his chest. “Besides, of all people, I'm the last who should be judging you."

“As if you, Henry Bell, have done anything as bad as killing your own father," Taise said with a bitter laugh. He laid his head back against the couch cushion and groaned. “So much talk of death tonight. It's a funny thing, don't you think? Sometimes, I understand why you humans are so fascinated by mediums. The sídhe conceptualize death differently, but given the chance, I have many questions I'd ask my father. Would you speak with Violet again, if you could?"

Henry stiffened. It had been a long time since he'd heard that name. “No. No, I wouldn't," he said, colder than he'd intended. “In my opinion, the dead should stay dead."

Taise flinched, so imperceptibly Henry wondered if he'd imagined it. “I'm sorry," Henry said reflexively, though he didn't know what he was apologizing for. “It's just that my sister has passed on, and it would be selfish to bring her back."

“I understand," Taise said, not meeting Henry's eyes.

Henry decided to change the subject. “How have the Ui Anghau been faring since the Hathaway incident, anyway?"

Instead of answering, Taise wrinkled his nose and asked, “Do you smell smoke?"

Henry looked to his kitchen, then his window. He didn't see anything, but knew better than to question a sídhe's sharp nose. A terrible thought occurred to him, and he jumped to his feet. “Renna," he said.

He flung open the front door to find a hallway hazy with smoke. “It's coming from downstairs!" he called, already started down them, not waiting for Taise to follow.

The door to the Amaikes' flat, when he reached it, already stood open. Heart thundering in his chest, he let himself inside, hesitating just past the threshold. The air was even thicker here, and suffocatingly hot. The lights from the streetlamps outside provided only a faint glow through the smoke.

“Henry, is that you?" Joseph called. Henry didn't see the man until he moved, and even then it was only his silhouette, dark past the grey haze. “Renna's door is stuck; I can't get it open!"

“Move," Henry said, taking Joseph's place in front of Renna's door. Shifting his weight back on one leg, he aimed a powerful thrust kick at Renna's door. The wood cracked, but didn't break.

“Henry, is that you?" Renna called, only to cut off with a fit of coughing.

“Can you get out through the window?" Henry called back. His own throat was beginning to burn from the strain, and he lifted his sleeve to cover his mouth.

“It's too small," Joseph said. “Ines went to get the fire brigade, but gods know when they'll arrive!"

“Move back, Joseph. Renna, you too!" Henry called. Bracing himself, he kicked the door again, this time kicking it down. He flinched back, ready for heat, smoke, and flame, but it never came. Taise stepped between him and the door, his hands held out and his eyes gleaming red as magic poured through him.

Henry watched flames lap at the door frame and no further, watched smoke billow toward them and then curl away, as if stopped by an invisible barrier. A moment later, Renna jumped through, shielding her face with an arm. When she stumbled, Joseph caught her, murmuring prayers under his breath, holding her and stroking her hair as she trembled.

“Get out of here, both of you," Henry ordered, and Joseph didn't hesitate to obey.

They could hear the bells of the fire brigade, still far in the distance. “You go too, Henry," Taise said, his voice tight, strained. Henry squinted at him, trying to make out his expression, but all he could see was the glow of Taise's eyes.

As if Henry would leave him here. “Can you put the fire out?" he asked.

Taise shook his head. “Fire's not my domain. I can only stop it from spreading."

Henry ran to the windows and threw them open, one at a time. It was barely two minutes later that the fire brigade burst in. Clearly not expecting to find anyone inside, they paused, wary of Taise's glowing eyes. Seeing Henry beside him seemed to break the spell. “Go!" one called, while others rushed in. “We can handle things from here!"

With a quiet sigh, Taise let his barrier fall. He swayed, unsteady on his feet, and Henry wrapped an arm around his waist, half-carrying, half-leading him out the building and down the front steps. Under the streetlamps, back in the clean air, Henry gasped at the sight of Taise; his upper lip and chin were streaked with blood, his nose bleeding freely.

“Taise?" he asked, alarmed, still holding Taise up. For a moment, the sídhe looked at him without recognition, his eyelashes fluttering, and then he sluggishly wiped his nose.

“Ah," he said, staring at the blood that stained the sleeve of his white dress shirt. “I'm sorry you had to see that."

“Never mind that," Henry said. He felt for his handkerchief only to realize he'd given it to Taise earlier. “Sit. Pinch your nose and sit forward."

Taise wordlessly obliged, sitting clumsily right there on the steps while Henry watched him worriedly. “Taise, what was that?"

“If I use too much magic, I…ah, well. It's nothing," Taise said, his words pinched and sluggish. “Etta usually tempers the effects."

Henry had seen Taise perform much stronger magic than that without batting an eye. “That doesn't make any—"

“Henry!"

That was Renna. Henry had been so distracted by Taise he'd almost forgotten her. He ran his hands through his hair, looking to find her perched on the back of the fire brigade's truck, a blanket draped over her shoulders. “Stay here," he ordered Taise, then crossed to Renna. “Rest your voice, Renna. Are you—?"

“I've changed my mind," Renna interrupted, hoarse. “Find who did this, Henry."

Henry looked at their building, where the fire brigade had broken Renna's window to pump water in from outside. Had it only been the fire, Henry might have called it bad luck. But paired with the chandelier, and the fact that it was Renna's room that caught fire, it became a pattern. A telling pattern, too—the would-be-murderer had showed their hand, revealed too much. Henry's branching paths fell away, and he could see the right one before him now, quite clearly.

“Don't speak," Henry told Renna sternly. “I'll do it."

A constable arrived shortly after the fire brigade, taking brief statements from each of them before informing them the building was off-limits until they could assess the damage. He allowed them brief, supervised trips inside to grab passports and pack bags, and then the doors were taped off.

“Don't go back to Thornapple Hall," Henry warned the Amaikes. “We need to find somewhere more secure."

“My rooms are some of the safest in either Tamarley. Stay with me," Taise offered, unprompted. He'd wiped the blood from his face and was already back in his usual spirits, if his sly smile was any indication. In it, Henry could see the unspoken offer, the suggestion of a deal.

“What's your price?" Henry asked.

Feigning offense, Taise pressed a hand to his chest. “Why, Henry. I only want to tag along for your investigation. I'm curious to see your methods at work, and besides, I'm invested. Will you let me?"

“If that's all…then yes, I will."

“Henry, who is this?" Ines asked, watching Taise with dark, wary eyes. She was still in her sleeping clothes, with her hair done up in a bonnet.

“The man who saved your flat tonight, mama," Renna piped up. “I don't think he means us any harm, and Henry certainly seems to trust him."

Joseph, Ines, and Renna all looked to Henry, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes," Henry said, “I suppose I do."

Some light sprinkling of past secrets for you, this week 👀

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