The rest of the house was much like the first two rooms. Neat, tidy, homey. I could see Sienna living here, a quiet life, coming home from the morgue to take a bath in the clawfoot tub, then climbing the stairs to a loft bedroom that took up the entire top level of the house.
As I stepped into the bedroom, I felt a wash of guilt flow down my spine. I really shouldn’t have been in here. Ursula had entrusted me with the key, but Grey’s words remained in my head: Sienna hadn’t been taken. She’d walked off of her own accord, and who was I to say it hadn’t been intentional? If I walked off, would I be pleased to find one of my friends searching through my apartment?
The curious detective in me warred with the loyal friend. Finally, I reasoned that I’d already done enough damage, so I might as well finish it out. If Sienna wanted to be upset with me when she came back, then let her be upset. But on the off chance she did need help, I would do the best I could to find her and not allow myself to feel guilty over it.
Sienna’s drawers were neatly arranged with her bright colored clothing, same with her closet. Under her bed were a few boxes, mostly of shoes—all of them different styles of black combat boots. I’d never known so many varieties existed.
I was just getting ready to close up shop and head out when something caught my eye. On one side of Sienna’s bedroom was a window with the shades drawn. But one shade was bent out of shape, allowing sunlight to stream in through the crack. One beam of light glinted off the golden clasp of an old cedar chest that drew me toward it.
I rested a hand against it, feeling the sturdiness of an old, well-made piece of furniture. It was tall enough that I’d be able to sit on it easily and heavy enough that I couldn’t lift it by myself. One glance at the lock told me that there were no Residuals there. No spells to protect the contents inside. It wasn’t even protected with a regular lock and key.
I opened the chest. Inside was a stack of knitted blankets that all looked homemade. Pretty blues, soft yellows, creamy whites—Sienna wasn’t short on blankets. I sifted through them half-heartedly, disappointed that my gut instinct had been wrong. There was nothing in this chest that would help me.
Standing, I let the lid close on the chest. But at the last second, a spark of something caught my eye. I heaved it back open and dug furiously through the blankets to make sure it hadn’t been a trick of the eye.
I struck gold on the bottom blanket. Specs of Residuals there. A shade of indigo that was familiar to me, that told me someone—probably Sienna—had purchased and used a Screen Spell. Hurrying, I pulled a musty-smelling green blanket from the base of the chest and exposed the Residuals in all their glory. The bottom of the chest was blanketed in a spell.
My adrenaline began to race. Sienna had wanted something kept private. A pinch of guilt dug into me as I leaned forward to study the Residuals, but I pushed it away. If it didn’t pertain to Sienna’s disappearance, I’d put everything back the way I found it. If it did, it might just save her life—and that was a risk I was willing to take.
Lucky for me, I’d encountered several Screen Spells in my career. Criminals often had things they wanted kept secret, and a Screen was an easy way to do that. One simply had to place the item they wished to mask at the base of a box, a chest, something of the sort. Then, the Screen Spell was poured from its vial on top, creating the illusion and sensation of a false base.
I knew a department-issued counter-curse that would resolve the spell, and I muttered it quietly, again pushing away the guilt that came with using departmental resources on a personal case. Lately, business and personal had become intermixed in a way that was impossible to separate. And the department would benefit just as much in seeing Sienna returned safely home.
The Screen Spell simply rolled itself up, then disappeared at my uttered words. Beneath it revealed the items Sienna had wanted to keep hidden.
Frowning, I reached down and pulled out a sheaf of dusty old papers bound together by a thin red string. Carefully, I tugged one end of the string and the binding fell apart, letting the papers slide easily into my hands along with a cloud of dust.
At first look, I feared I’d stumbled onto some old love letters. In which case, I would’ve stuck them right back where I found them. But a quick scan told me that the letters weren’t romantic at all, but friendly and a bit business-like.
I scanned through a couple, finding nothing particularly interesting of note. They were conversational, very ‘How are you doing? How is your new life in the borough? How is your career going?’
I thumbed through them, looking for something of substance. I found it near the back. Almost before the letters stopped. I took a closer look at one in particular, easing cross-legged on the floor as I began to read.
Dear Sienna,
I’ve heard much about your accomplishments as the medical examiner for the Sixth Borough. While it is an admirable career, I must issue my request once more. Please, consider a return to the land that needs you most. There is an urgent need for you here, and though I have begged you before, the timing is now dire. It is of the utmost importance that you return to where you belong. We will welcome you with open arms once again. And you will take your rightful position as commander.
Please reconsider,
Nathaniel
I read it again. Then a third time. Commander? Frantically, I skimmed through the rest of the letters, but there was nothing of note. While the other letters had been dusty and years-old, this one was not. The writing was fresh and not faded, and the date on it was from eleven months prior.
Sinking back against Sienna’s bed, I thought to the time when Sienna would’ve received this letter. I’d known her then, and she’d seemed content enough as ME for the Sixth Borough. Obviously, I hadn’t known she was getting these letters. She hadn’t shared, nor should she have. But still... what had been happening in the background of Sienna’s life? And why had she wanted to keep it private?
I stood and quickly grouped the letters back together, tied them and returned them to their rightful place. The Screen Spell was gone, and I couldn’t do anything to fix that now. Instead, I did a quick lock enhancer that would hold off any looky-loos—not that anyone else should be digging around in Sienna’s home, then I raced down stairs, took the bagged up garbage outside, and locked up.
As I began to walk, my eyes focused on the Dead Lands and whatever lay beyond. I couldn’t help but wonder: Who was Nathaniel, and why was he begging Sienna to come home?
Chapter 3
I made my way back to the pizzeria. The sun was high and mid-day was in full swing. It was odd to be walking along, sweating, after spending the morning surrounded by dreariness and death and fog.
By the time I reached the pizzeria, I’d taken my jacket off and was feeling the warmth of the sun pressing onto my shoulders. I let myself inside, surprised to find it startlingly quiet.
I stopped, looked around. The pizzeria wasn’t empty of people. It was just empty of customers. I glanced at Grey, Willa, my mother, and my brothers Nash and Jack.
“What’s going on?” I asked slowly, a pit of dread in my stomach.
“Dani, we all love you very much,” my mother started. “And we’re worried about you.”
“I’m worried about my pizzeria,” I said. “This is prime lunch hour. Why aren’t people eating pizza?”