Lacroix and I picked up our pace rushing to where we heard Stevens’ voice. My mind flashed to the worst possible situations, cultists stabbing him or a giant frog devouring both of my new coworkers. When we turned the corner on the dirt path, I was relieved to discover Chen and Stevens fully intact. I did not see any other figures around them, but the two of them were running towards us.
“Run!” Chen yelled at us.
Not being quick to react had its benefits, in that I often used discretion before making important decisions. Unfortunately, in an emergency it was detrimental to waste even a second contemplating the situation. As Stevens and Chen drew near, I could see they were wiping something off of their shirts and legs. At first I thought a sticky substance had spilled on them, but as they drew near, I realized it wasn’t one substance but many separate creatures—frogs to be exact.
Behind them, the pyramid erupted like a volcano. A sea of frogs was spilling out, climbing over one another, and hopping out across the cemetery. Frogs were covering the ground and making their way onto gravestones like a green tidal wave. It was the first time I had ever seen a swarm of anything before, and I was mesmerized by it. There were so many small, moving objects that my brain could not focus on any of them. They looked like one large amorphous blob moving together in our direction swallowing entire graves on its path.
“Oh, plague. I get it.” I said as Lacroix took my wrist and yanked me after him.
We ran over the dirt and gravel paths between the graves as quickly as we could. Stevens and Chen were right behind us and frogs were spreading out as far as I could see. The ground was becoming a wiggling sea of green skin. I could barely hear Lopes’ dog barking over the cacophony of croaking as we neared the gates.
Then I felt something wet on my arm. I brushed it off and felt another on my leg. This time it bit onto my calf. I reached down ripping a frog from my skin before tossing it to the ground. By the time we got to the front gate, I was untangling a frog from my hair and pulling several more from my dress. They were entirely different sizes and appeared to be different species as well.
“Grab the gate,” Lacroix yelled.
He took one side and I took the other. We pushed the gate doors together until there was only a small opening for our colleagues. First Chen ran through and then Stevens a moment after. We shut the gate the rest of the way, but knew it wouldn’t stop the frogs from wriggling between the bars. Chen had red marks on his face and arms from where frogs bit him, and one had drawn blood. Lopes was doing her best to keep her dog from dragging her into the gate and the frogs, but Daisy was set on chomping a frog. Meanwhile Stevens was holding the side of the gate dry-heaving at the sight of all of the frogs while Jack removed them from his back.
Frogs were spreading out, hopping through the gate into the city streets. As cars sped by, they were mashed into the pavement. Others were on their way to residential areas.
“Should we call someone?” Chen asked, out of breath from the running.
“Who? Animal control or a damn exterminator?” Lacroix asked and got under Steven’s arm to drag him along with us. “Let’s just get the hell out of here and then you can call every department in the city if you want.”
Daisy was happily crunching on one of the frogs that Jack had tossed off of Stevens. I hoped the frog wasn’t poisonous, since Lopes was unsuccessful in getting the frog out of Daisy’s mouth.
The noise of the frogs echoed through the city behind us. Jack took my hand and I noticed the frog bites fading away thanks to our connection. We made it back to Lopes’ apartment in less time than it had taken us to get to the cemetery. After we returned to the back yard, Lopes brought a first aid kit to treat the frog bites on everyone.
“What happened to you guys?” Martin asked.
“Frog infestation,” Lacroix said. “Lopes, it’s been an exciting party, but I gotta be getting home.” He gave Lopes a hug and walked to the door.
“Me too,” Stevens said and then dry heaved again.
“I’ll give you a ride home, buddy,” Chen said patting him on the back.
Lacroix held the back door open for Steven and Chen. He then said, “O’Malley, didn’t you say you had to leave?”
I was startled to hear my name, and although I did want to go, I wasn’t sure why Lacroix was trying to help me out of there. “Uh, yeah. Thank you for inviting us,” I said to Lopes.
“Yes, very amusing,” Jack said with a laugh that my elbow interrupted.
Lopes gave me a hug. “You take care of yourself, chika.”
Lacroix led Jack and me out of the house and down the front steps to the front yard. Once he saw no one else was nearby, he said, “What the hell is going on?”
Jack and I exchanged glances and then met Lacroix’s stare.
“Don’t give me none of that. Frogs?! More damn frogs? Did you get that paper Chen translated from the church?” Lacroix asked.
“Certainly not,” Jack said, and I calmed slightly until he continued. “We got it last night when the cultists attacked us under our apartment.”
“What?!” Lacroix practically screamed. “And you didn’t think to call anyone, or bring this in as evidence?”
“Detective…” I tried.
“No, I don’t know what kind of explanation you could have for holding onto evidence that could lead to the arrest of a dangerous cult.” Sweat was dripping down Lacroix’s face from his hairline making his dark skin shine. He had his hands on his hips, but the flamingo shirt ruined the authoritative impression he intended.
“Look, we were a bit under the influence last night, but the guy who ran the beignet shop below us was with a bunch of cultists and…” I said.
“Spit it out O’Malley,” Lacroix ordered.
“He turned himself into a giant frog,” Jack said.
“We didn’t think anyone would believe us, so we went to bed and when we woke up all of it was gone, cleaned up like nothing happened,” I said realizing how silly it all sounded.
Lacroix pointed at us while he talked. “You’re right. Ain't no one gonna believe that nonsense, so don’t say anything about that at the station.”
“But, you believe us?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t go that far. After seeing that ecological anomaly out there at the cemetery, I may have a more open mind,” Lacroix said and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his forehead. “Are you saying there’s a frog-person hopping around town?”
“Oh no, it’s gone.” Jack smiled like a boy waiting for an approving pat on the back for a job well done.
Lacroix frowned but didn’t ask more about the frog-man.
“There’s one more thing,” I said, watching Lacroix frown deeper. “I think the beignets were covered in lead dust.”
“Come on, not the beignets!” Lacroix said. “Fine, let’s say I believe anything you just said, that piece of paper is still part of the investigation. I’ll be taking it and dropping it off at the station. With any luck, the FBI will be here in the morning, and they can stop this Mass Sacrifice from taking place. I want nothin’ to do with it. I’m on leave and vacation for Christ’s sake.” He took the folded paper from me and walked away mumbling to himself. “Damn plague of frogs. Biblical bullshit. Ruining my favorite snack.”
Just then, I was startled by a creaking sound. A large figure cast a shadow over us from the doorway. My imagination construed a giant frog, even larger than the beignet shop owner, croaking at us. Lacroix was far enough down the road not to notice. I squinted towards the house to see a man in a trench coat with wild hair sprouting out of his head to blend with a bushy beard. He matched the unkept style of his yard. Tusks protruded from his lower jaw causing his mouth to hang slightly open and his heavy hands were balled into fists. Lopes’ neighbor was a Troll, and not just any Troll, but a Troll known as, “Dunker.”
“Jack Frost?” Dunker said, twitching in surprise. Then he held his fists up. “Did Queen send you? I do nothing wrong!” When his brow furrowed, he was a fearsome sight to behold. He leaned forward readying himself to charge us like a bison.
Jack put his hands up. “Woah big guy, we were visiting your neighbor.”
“Ms. Lopes?” Dunker asked and his body instantly relaxed. “Is nice lady. Makes good enchiladas.”
“It’s her birthday.” I confirmed.
“How I not know this?” Dunker asked. “You come in? Help me find present.”
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I tried to think of a nice way to decline, but Jack was already heading over to the stairs. I didn’t have entering a Troll’s lair on my bingo card for the day. Of all the dangerous beasts we had encountered, Dunker was the most intimidating. I was certain that on a whim he could scoop me up with one hand and there would be absolutely nothing I could do about it.
We walked up the sloped stairs and into an air conditioned room unlike anything I could have dreamed up. I pictured a dark, dingy basement space with rudimentary weapons strewn throughout. Instead I was bombarded with a vast array of bright colors. It took a minute for me to realize what I was looking at. Shelves surrounded us. Every inch of space from the shelves, to the tables, even chairs had collectible figures of magical girls from Japanese Anime. Wall scrolls hung over the windows with cute pink-haired girls in fighting poses, the couch had cushions with smiling chibis on them, and there was even a rug with the same theme. Although Dunker’s lawn was a mess, his figurines were in pristine condition. There wasn’t even a speck of dust on the doll stands or shelves.
“Uhhh…” Jack was dumbstruck. He turned around the room in circles trying to figure out what he was seeing.
“You see Pretty Pretty Peach Girl?” Dunker asked.
“Can’t say I have,” Jack answered.
“Is best show. Team of girls fight evil with power of love and friendship. You should watch,” Dunker said. “You think Ms. Lopes want one for birthday?” He took a girl off the shelf with peach-colored hair and an orange outfit and held her delicately. “Peach Girl’s my favorite, but maybe she like Grape?”
“Has she ever seen the show?” I asked doubtingly.
“You no think so? I have box set, she can borrow,” Dunker said while turning sideways to slip by his collection without bumping it.
I wondered how he coordinated the tight spaces in his house on a regular basis without knocking dozens of dolls to the floor. The doorways and halls clearly weren’t constructed with a giant Troll in mind.
“No. Do you have anything that isn’t Peach Girl related?” I asked, but immediately regretted it.
Dunker looked at me as though I had insulted his mother. “Pretty Pretty Peach Girl,” he said, “is best show.” His shoulders rose up with his change in temperament. He snarled while glaring down at me daring me to continue.
Realizing I was upsetting the massive man in his own home, I tried to change the subject. “It does look cute, and you have arranged them all so well in your home. Have you lived here a long time?”
When I mentioned his home, Dunker’s demeanor snapped back to awkwardly friendly. He sucked in a breath and turned away. Long ago I had noted that many Fae had a bizarre obsession with hospitality. I wondered if it came from Queen Mab herself who often conducted strict tea parties with a focus on etiquette.
“Apologies, no manners. Have seats.” He ducked through the doorway into the adjacent room and I could hear him rattling glasses in the kitchen.
Jack and I sat beside one another on a couch with a peach cover over it. He pulled a pillow with the body of a magical girl printed on it out from under him and set it on the chair beside him. I put a plushy of a flying pig on my lap rather than sit on it and scanned the array of plastic dolls with puffy dresses, and large eyes matching their irregular hair colors.
When Dunker returned, he handed each of us a cup of lemonade. He then sat in a sturdy-looking chair across from us. At first, I was hesitant to sip the drink offered to us by a stranger, especially after the beignets, but Jack was already chugging his.
“I been here long time. Before Lutins,” Dunker said, “Queen have me protect pirate.”
I leaned forward on the couch. “Her pirate? You mean Jean Lafitte?”
Dunker nodded his large head sending a wave through his mane of hair. “Little pirate man, part faerie, like you.”
That was news to me. It was rare for a faerie to have a child with a human. I had only heard of it happening a handful of times.
“Governor’s mean to Pirate man and all Fae. Tried scaring us with iron. Iron fences, iron balconies, iron decorations, is all over. Pirate man’s blacksmith shop for get rid of iron,” Dunker said. “Governor traps Fae. Queen’s mad.”
“Did you know about any of this?” I asked Jack.
He gulped down the rest of the lemonade and was eyeing mine. “Why would I? I’m not from here. Good lemonade, Dunker.”
“Fresh lemons, squeeze myself.” He made the motion of squishing in one hand and I doubted he used a press.
“I bet Lopes would like some lemonade,” I said and watched as Dunker’s face lit up.
“She would? Yes! I go make.” He marched off to the kitchen. The figurines rattled on their shelves as he left, but none of them fell.
Jack stretched his arms and leaned into the couch, propping his feet up on my legs. I glared at him and pushed them off.
“What? It’s nice and cool in here. We should take a nap and figure out the case later.” He said with a yawn.
“You want to take a nap at a Troll’s house? What is wrong with you? You’ve been less-than-helpful all day. You wouldn’t even go into the cemetery. I could’ve been eaten by a swarm of frogs!” I whispered aggressively at Jack.
“I am not getting trapped inside an iron fence. You heard Dunker. That’s how they used to execute Fae around here,” Jack said.
“What?! When? Why didn’t you tell me about that?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but they did it at one time. The Queen warned me about it.” Jack inspected the image of a girl on one of the pillows and then leaned onto it.
I narrowed my eyes at him and watched him snuggle into the pillow. If the Queen made a point to mention it, it was important. She always chose her words carefully and often to manipulate someone. There was more going on than the frog cult. I was certain of it.
Dunker came back out with a cistern of lemonade and a wide grin. I nodded in approval.
“Come on, Jack. We have a mass sacrifice to stop,” I said, but Jack didn’t budge. I threw the pig plushie at him and said, “Fine, I order you to come with me.”
Jack grumbled and stood up. His hair was looking especially disheveled, and there were dark circles forming under his eyes.
Dunker let out a bellowing laugh. “I like this one, Jack. You do good to keep her happy.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Jack mumbled under his breath.
We said our goodbyes to Dunker and returned to the heat. It wasn’t long before Jack slowed his pace and stopped under the awning of a nearby building. I stood next to him ready to chide him for lagging behind.
“Is it really that terrible being connected to me?” Jack asked, meeting my eyes with his.
Jack’s question caught me off guard. I looked down, uncomfortable with his too-blue gaze, and noticed spots of blood staining my green dress from the frog bites and discoloration from sweat. I was tired as well and sick of being attacked by things.
“You keep running into these dangerous situations, because you’re so desperate to get rid of me,” Jack said in a small voice. He leaned against the brick wall of the building.
I hated to admit it, but he was right. Normally, I spent a lot more time analyzing situations. I wouldn’t be putting myself in danger over and over again. Everything was moving so fast since I got to New Orleans, partly because my goal was to remove the ring. It felt like Jack had shackled me, and I couldn’t help but be resentful for that.
“Do you hate me that much?” Jack said with the look of a kicked puppy.
Part of me knew he had practiced his expression to garner sympathy, but I wasn’t heartless. “No, I don’t hate you, but I also don’t appreciate you putting this on me against my will. I’m already beholden to the Queen. I don’t need any more faeries in my life, and I don’t trust you.”
“Fine. Trust is earned, and I’m working on that. But we could leave this pink dumpster full of hot garbage, and go our separate ways. I’d have some iron immunity, you’d heal injuries, who knows what else. You’d be getting the better end of the deal, really,” Jack said as he watched an older lady throwing bread crumbs to a murder of crows on the other side of the street.
I leaned against the brick alongside Jack, feeling the rough edges against my back. We both stared at the crows cawing to one another and possibly befriending the woman for life. I always admired the ingenuity of crows along with their ability to hold grudges. I had read tales about a scorned crow dropping acorns on a man’s head every day when he left his house in the morning. There weren’t too many animals that had such a stubborn vengefulness. They reminded me of the Queen.
I had to explain my feelings to Jack in a way he would understand them, or he could make getting rid of the ring a lot more difficult. “Remember how you said you envied humans for having free will, not having to do the Queen’s commands?”
“I didn’t say it like that exactly,” Jack said.
“OK, but you know what I mean. With the ring, I’m tied to you and to your oath to the Queen. You’ve removed my choice, my free will,” I said while holding the ring up and allowing it to reflect the sunlight.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. “I agreed to do your bidding anyway, but I see what you’re saying.”
Relief washed over me. The last thing I needed was Jack pouting and sabotaging my investigation.
Jack then said, “Can we agree to stop rushing into things, though? You’re supposed to be the Queen’s detective. Do some detectiving.”
“You’re right, let’s go,” I said and started walking to the end of the street.
“No, Hailey, go where?” Jack threw his hands up in exacerbation.
I answered him succinctly as if there were no other options.“Back to the apartment.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but why are we going back there?” He jogged to catch up with me, since I was not slowing my pace nor was I looking back.
“We want to know what the cultists have planned. The beignet shop owner must’ve left something behind,” I said, while flagging a cab. “Something just doesn’t sit right with me about all of this. It seems too widespread and well organized for a crazy cult, but I’m no cult expert. Do you know where the owner lived? Why didn’t he live upstairs? Who owns the building?”
Jack shrugged. “The building is Fae-owned. Not sure which Fae, so he was renting from one of us I guess.”
“Who gave you the info for the apartment?” I asked.
A cab pulled over. We got in, and there was an overwhelming piney smell from the air freshener that I hoped wouldn’t make me car sick. Nevertheless, I gave the driver our address, and we were underway.
“Actually, you’re going to think this is funny,” Jack said while gazing out the window.
If he paid me any mind, he would have seen me frowning. “Who was it?”
“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. It really slipped my mind.” He squirmed in his seat trying to get his long legs into a comfortable position in the limited space.
“OK, out with it.”
“Promise you won’t be mad?”
“JACK!”
He covered his face like a toddler playing peek-a-boo and said in a small voice, “Your mom.”