Page 11 of Dryad’s Treasure

I’d always known will-o’-the-wisps to take treasure. I’d never known one to freely give it away.

Five

Grayson

Two days passed before I felt comfortable enough to safely begin teasing the songs apart. I’d mostly kept to my own company. Elvira popped in here and there and Henry pushed through an outlet in my room, crawled up my sheets, and plopped his body on the extra pillow, leaving a dirty mark behind when he left. I wouldn’t say either one was good company, but they weren’t bad either.

Currently, I didn’t need the distraction others would provide. Especially Martin. I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t get the dryad out of my mind. Which was nuts considering will-o’-the-wisp and dryad history. Nothing like beating your head against an immovable force to wear one out. And nothing was more immobile than solid oak.

Irritated I was once more thinking about Martin, I pinched my arm, bringing me back to the here and now. I couldn’t afford to allow my mind to wander. I needed absolute concentration. Sitting on my bed, eyes closed and blue flames licking up my arms, engulfing my shoulders and neck, I weeded one song away from another, blocking their siren tunes as I continued working my way toward a singular chorus.

My hair was damp with sweat. I’d never had to work this hard before. My head pounded and my muscles ached from constant tension. Still, I pushed on. My curiosity was a curse I couldn’t escape.

I’d lost track of time. It was difficult to monitor anyway buried beneath the ground in a windowless room. Tension eased from me as the cacophony of noise abated, leaving a lone, melancholic sound. That sound pulled at me, begging me to come and find its source.

Standing, I kept that singular beat in my mind, holding it still as I released my solid form, dissipating into a blue flame. Like this, there was no door or wall that could hold me. Drifting, I followed the call, weaving down the warren of corridors. The song amplified as I neared, its cadence full of pain and loss. Without a doubt, whatever was at the end was beyond sorrowful. It was downright miserable.

I’m coming. That mantra chanted through my core, reaching out to the treasure I sought. A responding hum of hope answered back, filling me with renewed energy and desire.

The humming came to a crescendo. While I still wasn’t certain what I’d found, I was positive regarding its location. Reforming, I found myself in something akin to a storage room. Cleaning supplies filled the shelves and different-textured brooms and a couple of mops leaned against one corner. There was barely enough room for me to stand, even less for me to reach forward and place my palm over the area where the treasure lay.

It was behind the wall—a wall I needed to get through. My fire form could easily breach the wall, but I couldn’t retrieve whatever it was that way. I couldn’t transport anything. Life would be so much easier if I could. No, this is where the real work came in.

Thankfully the room was equipped with automatic lighting. Otherwise, I would have been left floundering in the dark. I searched the shelves, sifting through loose objects and a few random tools. “This will do,” I said while holding up a flat-headed screwdriver.

I didn’t think twice. I’d been hired to do a job, and I intended to dig out this sorrowful treasure. If the screwdriver wasn’t enough, I’d find something else. I’d use my dull fingernails if I thought that would work.

Repeatedly slamming the business end of the screwdriver into the wall finally bore fruit. Little pieces of plaster fell away, revealing a thin layer of rock. Rearing my arm back, I dove the screwdriver in and heard a satisfying crack. I’d broken through.

I was a little more careful now, chipping away the sides enough that I could sneak a peek. The alcove was small. Most likely a natural space in the rock. My first glimpse left me baffled. Reaching in, my fingers caressed something soft and fluffy. I couldn’t carry my phone with me when I was in wisp form. I could have really used the flashlight app right about now.

Going back to the shelves, I thankfully found a small, ancient-looking flashlight. I hit the button and a flickering, unsteady light blinked into existence. Smacking the flashlight against my hand, the light steadied and I shone it directly into the hole.

My breath caught as brilliant oranges and reds met my vision, the tip of the slender object covered in midnight black. Swallowing hard, I had a niggling feeling I knew what this was. Bile crept up my throat. I hadn’t found a corpse, but it was a near thing.

“Elvira?” I hated how shaky my voice was. “You here?”

“I am,” she answered, and when I turned, I saw Elvira’s form cut through by the shelving she’d wedged herself within.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Elvira’s dark eyes filled with fury, a healthy dose of pain mixed in. “I’ll get Keir,” she said before dissipating. I had no idea how long it would take for Keir to arrive. Honestly, I had no real concept where I was within the compound.

Finding a nearby bucket, I turned it over and sat down, heavily leaning against the wall. A broom slid along the wall, falling to the floor. I ignored the sound, my eyes glued to the treasure I’d found.

By all the gods and goddesses, Tenzen Huxley really had been a monster.

“I’ll call him,” Martin said, voice somber. “He needs to know.”

“The duty is mine,” Keir answered, tone flat and empty. I’d watched a myriad of emotions slip over Keir’s face before he seemed to settle into stoic acceptance. “It will be better coming from me.”

Martin huffed and drew back, walking to the fireplace and leaning an arm against the mantel. “That’s a stretch.” We’d retreated to Keir’s private quarters after he’d removed what was left of the kitsune tail I’d found. I figured there was about one-fourth, maybe a third of a full tail lying on Keir’s coffee table. It created a grisly scene.

“I can’t believe there’s anything left,” Elvira said. She’d reformed close to me but kept a respectable distance, enough I didn’t feel the cold leaching into me. “I assumed Huxley would have used it all.”

“So did I,” Keir answered. “Hikaru’s grown his eighth tail back, but the original one’s loss was…bad. And then to know what Huxley did with the magic he obtained from it.”

Out of the loop, I didn’t know what that meant. Martin made a disgruntled noise before enlightening me. “Huxley used the magic he obtained from Hikaru’s tail to create restraints Hikaru couldn’t get out of. Evidently it takes a kitsune’s magic to hold a kitsune captive. Huxley planned on keeping Hikaru enslaved and harvesting his tails as necessary to augment his own magic.”