By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(67)

I actually found myself feeling sorry for it. What was my problem? I suddenly seemed to be the champion of any misfit creature crossing my path. It was ridiculous.

“We could find the time,” Quinn said. “Right, Twig?”

I stiffened, was about to blurt ‘no way,’ but the demon lit up like it was a gift exchange during Winter Solstice and I found myself saying, “Absolutely.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. You just hold on a minute!” It disappeared without even the telltale noise that popping usually made. Strange.

“Where did it go?” Quinn asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Care to explain what I missed?”

I had just laid out the basics when the demon reappeared. Again, noiselessly. We both jumped, which seemed to amuse it to no end.

Speaking of amusing, it wore a plaid sweater vest, deep green bow tie, and pair of thick rimmed glasses. It also held a large tome and an ink quill in its hands.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I needed to clean up and I wanted to make sure to bring my journal. I can’t wait to find out more about your bond.” It bounced on its feet like a small child when offered a treat. “This is so exciting. I get to meet the Twig Starfig and his wizard . . .” It scratched its massive head. “Beg your pardon, but in my rage to kill the fairy I didn’t catch your name.”

“Quinn Broomsparkle.” His voice came out a full octave higher than usual.

“A good human name. Though don’t you think a wizard should have a moniker, like Quinn the Powerful, or some regal title like that?”

“Never really thought of it. I only became a wizard a couple days ago.”

“Well, we could discuss possible names over dinner. I’d love to help you.” The demon clapped its hands in glee. It was creepy.

“Um, what are we supposed to call you?” Quinn asked.

“Oh right. I hadn’t thought of that. Well, that’s not really true. I’ve never liked my real name. Not that I’d tell you what it was anyway, obviously. Not without killing you right after. Hmmm, so perhaps you would be willing to call me William Jasper Reginald Butler the third? I’ve always thought that has a nice ring to it. Don’t you agree?”

“How about we call you Bill?” I said.

“Ooh, I like it. A working man’s name.” Bill nodded enthusiastically. “So, are you ready for dinner?”



If you told me we would be having a vegetarian buffet with a demon named Bill who only hours ago ate my half-brother, I would have said you were smoking some hopped up jiggyweed. But here we sat on the edge of the Expanse in a giant tent that held a handful of tables and a huge buffet table in the center we could pick and choose from . . . especially once the other diners saw Bill and fled shrieking into the night.

“Oops.” Bill ducked his head. I’m pretty sure he was blushing, though it was impossible to tell against his fiery-colored skin. Guess we’d be leaving a generous tip.

The fragrant and spicy food tasted amazing despite containing no meat. My dragon only complained a little. Quinn seemed determined to try everything, and Bill was not far behind.

Over candlelight and with soft Sylph music playing in the background, Bill peppered us with questions about both dragons and wizards. Quinn talked until he was hoarse, asking Bill an equal number of questions.

“So, do Red Furies have gender?” he asked. When Bill looked astonished, Quinn blushed. “I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

“No, no, quite all right. How would you know, indeed?” Bill pursed his lips for a moment before continuing. “Yes, we have gender, but let’s just say we choose to hide the most obvious signs of it unless we’re in rut. Then we show what we have, so to speak. But as you can see, we don’t wear trousers or really any clothes. I just like the vest and tie—an affectation, I admit, but I’d like other creatures not to assume I’m about to eat their souls when we meet. It isn’t easy being so fearsome. Twig probably has some idea what I mean.” Bill shot me a questioning glance and I nodded.

I eyed the unicorn horn sitting next to Bill. I still needed to get a hold of it, except I wasn’t about to take on Bill, vegetarian or not. He might want to act refined, but we both knew what he could do when enraged. I never failed at any assignment, but I was about to now.

“You’re really set on the horn,” Bill commented at one point.

I thought about denying it. “It’s my reputation at stake. I said I’d return it.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. I’ll be happy to make sure it gets back to its owner.”

“I would think you’d hate unicorns if they can make you tell your name,” I said.

He shrugged. “Never met one before. I hear they’re beautiful.”

“If you like shallow, mean spirited, and rude, then sure, they’re beautiful,” Quinn grumbled. I pressed my hand against his lower back in a soothing motion. His shoulders relaxed.

“Remarkable.” Bill pulled out his notebook and scribbled a few notes. He documented everything. After he finished, he looked up. “I want you to give me a job. I was serious when I said I’m good with numbers. Plus, no one would mess with you if you kept a Red Fury on staff. We’d be a good team.”

He ran a finger over the unicorn horn in a not-so-subtle gesture. No job, no horn. I hated being blackmailed. I opened my mouth to tell him off, but Quinn said, “Can you file? Do you take dictation?”