Songs of Lilith | ONC2024

2: Nature Witch, Sleepless Fae

I didn't want any of this. I didn't want this case, and I certainly didn't want to be sitting in the interrogation room with the lying brat. Eric hadn't said much since we got to the precinct. Most of his responses were limited to blank stares or short, condescending grunts.

I could feel my eyes burning and starting to shut. I wasn't sure if I had the energy to continue the rest of this interview. I took a sip of my coffee. My leg bounced restlessly under the desk. If only this damn kid would speak.

"You got a thing for the coffee?" It was the first complete sentence to leave his mouth since he sat down. It was a start and a gateway to keep him talking.

"I'm sorry?" I pretended not to understand.

"That's been your third cup since we got here," he said. "Running from sleep?"

I didn't want to answer, but if we traded places at this point, then I might as well let him go now.

"I just like the taste," I was comfortable lying. It's not like he could tell.

"They say some of you, born of the fae, see things. Terrible things. In your dreams," I felt my leg plant itself on the floor. I straightened myself in my chair and locked eyes with the boy. "Are you a dreamer, detective? Don't want to sleep because you don't want to dream?"

"No."

"You only have the touch and sight, then?" he continued. "You a discerner? Feel things and know things?" His cocky confidence had returned. He began to take up space in his chair. "That's funny. They say most discerners dream things too."

"I think we should spend more time talking about you, Eric," change the subject. "And your boss's fate. How do you know so much about the Fae anyway?" I so badly wanted him to change the subject.

"Eh, Old Laing kept records," he said. "It was his thing. He had books and records. People. He taught me a lot about a lot of things. The Fae is just one of them how. They were the first children of Lilith and the divine, and they hid themselves when the divinity fell. I know a lot about the Fae and their kin folk."

There was no falter in his aura when he spoke. If I hadn't known him for just less than a day, I would consider this forthcoming nature uncharacteristic. There were no lies. But there was more, something he wasn't telling me.

"What else did Elijah teach you?" I asked.

"He taught me about witches, too. And their nature magic," Eric said as he sat back in his chair. "He hired me because I was witch-kind."

"You're a witch?" If I had touched him, I would have known.

"Eh, I didn't know from birth. When I showed up, I told him I couldn't be a witch because I never touched magic. He told me, 'No magic doesn't make you less witch,'" I took a sip of my coffee. "Just like no sleep doesn't make you less Fae."

"I'm not Fae—"

"And I don't hear the whisper of the tree nymphs everywhere I go. I do not bend nature to my will with my mind and few prayers. I could not cultivate the garden with my fingertips before I uttered the words 'I am a witch', but it was always in me. Fae, fae-born, what difference? Old Laing might have been human, but he understood that more than anybody. We are all something that does something. The angels pull divinity and balance the universe. Warlocks make creatures and take charge of chaos.

"Witches brew. Humans build. The critters and flying things make peace with nature. And the Fae know. And the Fae scream. And the Fae feel things. And the Fae dream."

His entire body was nearly over the table now. I positioned myself to meet him in the centre, "Who else was at the house with you?"

"I couldn't say there was anyone else," he sat back into his chair.

"You're lying. You know I know when you lie."

"How can I know what you know when you know nothing?"

I gritted my teeth and took another sip of my coffee. He wasn't leading me anywhere, and I couldn't keep him for much longer. I didn't want any of this. There was a knock at the door.

"Could you please excuse me for a bit?" I said while standing. As much as I wanted to find the full extent of what Eric knew, perhaps a break from the conversation would allow me to clear my head.

I stepped out of the interrogation room to find Officer Bailey. She held a file folder and a solemn expression on her face.

"We just received the preliminary report from the coroner on the crime scene," her words were directed at me, but her eyes were aimed toward the floor. "The initial investigation revealed that Mr. Laing was murdered by non-human means."

This case grew more despicable with each passing moment. Officer Bailey left me with the coroner's report, and I returned to the interrogation room to face Eric.

"Well then," I said, "it seems we've had some interesting developments. It appears Mr Laing wasn't just murdered. He was murdered with magic, and as far as I know, you were the only magical being in proximity to the scene."

"What are you saying?" I had his attention now. The upper hand, maybe.

"It might serve you well to tell me exactly what you know."

"I don't know anything." A lie.

"Was there someone else in the house with you?"

"Not that I could see." The truth.

"I can't help you if you lie to me, Eric." His outer shell was crumbling.

"I—" his eyes met mine with a look I hadn't seen him wear before. His bottom lip quivered, and his brow furrowed. "I didn't see anything." His voice broke. "I was outside. I heard a noise, so I ran inside to check. And he was gone. That was it; I didn't see who or what it was. He was just gone."

There were now two things I knew for sure: Eric had nothing to do with Elijah's murder, and I wanted absolutely nothing to do with this case.