Page 4 of Dryad’s Treasure

“I didn’t realize you had something to hide,” Tabitha teased. “Please, do tell.”

“As if,” Frost responded. “Besides, it’s not like that. None of us really know how a will-o’-the-wisp does their thing.” Frost rolled a hand, making the screen jump. “From what I do understand, what they find isn’t always traditional treasure.” Frost tapped his temple. “It’s a mind thing. Or maybe an intention thing.” He shrugged. “I have no idea. The point is, that the definition of treasure could be different to each and every one of us. It’s how we think of it when we tuck it away that’s important. Does that jive with your understanding, Keir?”

“It does.” Keir nodded. “And that’s precisely why I believe we need Grayson Delarue. I believe we can all agree that if something’s hidden within the compound, it won’t be what any of us expect.” Keir’s face scrunched in thought before drooping with exasperation. “I’ve tried getting into Huxley’s head. It’s not a place I recommend anyone else attempt to venture. I’ve read through any and all notes I can get my hands on, and I’ve still got no idea what might be stowed away, concealed within the compound waiting for Huxley to find a use for it. Huxley might be gone, but I still feel like we’re living in a ticking time bomb.”

“Again, glad I’ve moved out and am currently on the East Coast,” Frost said.

Jima leaned toward the screen. “If you weren’t already gone, Leon would have demanded you leave.”

Frost visibly stiffened before he rolled his eyes and relaxed. “You’re right. Either that or Leon would have insisted on staying with me.” Given that Leon was Frost’s vampire mate and Frost was Leon’s beloved, I doubted they would have been separated to begin with.

Shifting back in his seat, Jima turned his attention back to Keir. “What’s Grayson asking as payment?”

Keir and I shared a knowing look. “Grayson says he will let us know when he finds it.”

Jima’s small body went ramrod straight. “When he finds it? Finds what? What does that mean?”

“I wish I knew,” Keir answered.

“Well, that’s…” Jima struggled to find the words.

Tabitha helped out with an understated “disturbing.”

“At the very least,” Jima agreed. “What if what he wants is something dangerous or⁠—”

Keir cut him off. “I have already broached that subject, and Grayson has agreed that he is not allowed to take anything that we deem dangerous to others.”

“Or take anything that is sentient,” I added, wanting to nip that in the bud as well.

“Unless that sentient creature would like to leave with Grayson,” Keir amended. “I will not knowingly hold another against their will.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Tabitha agreed. “The best relationships are mutually beneficial and consensual.” Tabitha’s gaze strayed to Elvira, a warm smile twisting her lips. I wouldn’t say Elvira returned the warmth, but she did nod her consent.

Keir’s lips pulled into a frown and his massive shoulders sagged. “I did warn Grayson he might find something else hidden within our walls.”

I thought back to what Grayson had said, that he had no interest in corpses. As far as I was concerned, that was a small point in his favor.

Jima’s head dropped. “You think he’ll find our missing friends?”

Frost let loose a curse and his face momentarily went off screen.

“We think it’s possible,” I answered. I looked at Tabitha. “I know none have come to you since Alethia, but what about Navarre? As a necromancer, his abilities are different and⁠—”

“And far too unpredictable, I’m afraid,” Tabitha answered. With a sigh, she set her teacup down and leaned back into her cushioned seat. “Navarre’s made progress, but honestly, I’m uncertain if he would truly know if a voice speaking to him was one of our missing or not. I have tried questioning him, but his answers have been vague and confusing. Again, he’s not doing it on purpose. Navarre truly doesn’t know himself. I have been monitoring the spirits around him and haven’t made any new discoveries. I wouldn’t call that foolproof though.”

Sympathy was an emotion each and every one of us could afford Navarre. With few exceptions, necromancers were mentally unstable creatures. Navarre was but another of their lost and suffering numbers. It was my understanding that the new head of the Warlock Council, Nikodemus Holland, along with his necromancer son, Erasmus Boone, were trying to change that dynamic. Unfortunately, it would take time and much damage had already been done.

“I hope Little Fang is still doing well,” Keir said, inquiring about Navarre’s cat.

“She is very well.” A smile lit up Tabitha’s aged features. “Little Fang is a great comfort. She is the one thing Navarre is certain that is real and alive.”

“This was one of Aurelia’s former pets?”

Every head turned. I heard a teacup hit the ground but had no idea whose it was. Helios stood at the far side of the room, back turned toward us as he perused Keir’s living space. Helios was decked out in his typical camo fatigues and military-style boots. I’d only seen the other djinn, Aurelia, once before. Her wardrobe seemed fixated on nineties-era grunge. I had no idea why, but neither Helios nor Aurelia seemed interested in moving past apparel from their previous masters.

Keir recovered first. Standing, he cleared his throat and offered a clipped greeting. “Helios, is there something we can do for you?” None of us were pleased a djinn had taken an interest in the Magical Usage Council. Up until a couple of years ago, most had thought djinn were relegated to history, little more than myth. If only that were true.

Before he could answer, Frost yelled out, “Dammit, Helios, why are you bugging them?” He huffed. “Honestly, Peaches needs to tighten your leash.” My understanding was that Peaches was a nature pixie, happily bonded to an apple orchard and the beloved of the Southeast vampire king, Lucroy Moony. He’d also become the most unlikely djinn master of all time. Peaches’s lack of desire to be any djinn’s master, to wish anything upon them, was probably why he was still alive.