Logan's Quest Read online

  Logan's Quest

  Camille Robson

  Published by Camille Robson, 2022.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2022 by Camille Robson

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design: Esben Meyer Kristensen

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Logan's Quest

  INTRO

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  Thank you!

  Sabine, Ian, Max, Esben and Lori for your continuous support and patience!

  Fjoldsvid, I am deeply grateful for all your extra help and inspiration!

  A special Tusen Takk to Esben for creating the awesome cover for Logan’s Quest!

  INTRO

  Morgan had insisted on driving me to the Eastern Townships.

  “I could have taken the bus.”

  “Nonsense. A long weekend away from the city and work sounds like a good idea, and Adelyn will join me tomorrow. We’ve found a nice cabin not far from where you mother lives.”

  I needed to recharge.

  Ichiro’s request was weighing heavily on my mind and my heart.

  It was not a small request.

  I was staying at the inn near Ayer’s Cliff and would see Mom and her friend Suzanne for dinner.

  I had left the agency, Finders, in the good hands of Magnus and Troy.

  Wesley and I had agreed we would travel to the West Coast soon after I’d return from seeing my mother.

  Ichiro’s club was doing well, but he was still focused on finding his “mentor”, the one who had given him some of his first Reborn blood.

  Curtis and Laura had not come back yet, but Curtis had sent the agency a cheque for my services as “spell breaker”.

  Nick had taken Lenny under his wing. The young man had not made long-range plans.

  Morgan’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “You’ve had quite a summer.” Morgan said.

  “It’s been interesting, that’s for sure.”

  I sensed she wanted to ask some questions.

  Morgan Kiennan, who was a partner in a law firm that catered to humans, and sometimes preters, had been the one to contact me about Dylan’s and my biological father’s wishes, including the company Dylan had left me and the apartment where I was currently living. She had become a friend and confidante.

  “Morgan, you know I trust and respect you. If there are things you would like to know more about...”

  “You’re going to see your mom to get away from all things arcane and preternatural.”

  “But we’re not there yet, and the arcane and preternatural are now a big part of my life.”

  I thought she would ask about what had happened with Curtis, or maybe about Troy’s true story and nature, but she said.

  “Clementine, Clydan has been worried.”

  “About?”

  “Your hopes about Dylan.”

  “You’ve heard from Clydan?”

  Clydan was my biological father, one I had recently found.

  “You haven’t?”

  She seemed genuinely surprised.

  “Not lately. Is he back in town?”

  “Not exactly. He’s rented a cottage outside of Montreal.”

  I knew how Morgan valued discretion, but I still asked.

  “Is he alone?”

  She hesitated before saying.

  “For now.”

  “I’ll try to get in touch with him. As for his worries, and I sense you are also concerned. It’s not exactly hope, it’s a feeling. It’s been a feeling for a while now.”

  “Clementine, it would be very unlikely that Dylan would come back so quickly. It could be decades or more.”

  Morgan had declared this calmly. I knew she cared.

  I couldn’t tell her what I had packed in my duffel bag.

  It was more than hope.

  The feeling was getting stronger.

  @@@

  Dinner with mom and Suzanne had been very pleasant and relaxing.

  There were a lot of questions about the agency and my interest in learning Welsh.

  “But you’re okay financially?”

  My mom was like that. Diplomatic with others than her children. Still, I was taken aback that she would ask this in front of Suzanne, although I’ve known my mom’s very best friend for years.

  “Yes, I am, Mom. I’m being well paid for babysitting the agency, and I still have that contract as a research assistant.”

  As soon as I spoke the words out loud, I wanted to take them back. This would lead to more questions.

  “Ah yes, your mysterious contract.”

  I had to come up with an alias for Ichiro. Soon.

  An alias for the chronicles might prove more difficult.

  Suzanne must have sensed how uncomfortable I was getting.

  “Clementine, you must come across some unusual clients and cases at your agency.”

  I’m so grateful for Suzanne being here right now.

  “Without naming names, yes, we get some pretty interesting requests and questions.”

  After dinner, Mom takes me aside.

  “I’m sorry for the inquisition over dinner.”

  I try not to smile at her choice of word.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “You’re still my child, and I worry.” She says.

  I give her a hug before following Suzanne to her car.

  Driving me back to the Inn, she says.

  “Your mother means well.”

  “Oh, I know. Thank you for interrupting the flow of questions back there.”

  “But, Clementine, you are doing okay?”

  “I’m doing very well. Thank you for double-checking.”

  Before I step out of the car, Suzanne mentions she heard on the radio there might be a thunderstorm overnight.

  “Feels like a rather cool night for one. It hasn’t been that warm.” She adds.

  But all evening, my arcane energy has been stirring, just a little bit.

  Back in my room, I unpacked. I was here for three days.

  I quickly checked my phone for messages.

  There was one from Magnus, and it made me laugh.

  “Stop checking your phone for messages.”

  I should be getting ready for bed. I want an early start tomorrow. Maybe take a long walk.

  But I was restless.

  It was my arcane energy. I hope it’s not a need for blood or something more intimate. I don’t feel like looking for Ichiro in the Dreamlands.

  No, it’s something else.

  It’s the weather.

  The air feels a little heavier with a hint of crackling “static”.

  It gave me an idea.

  I got my hoodie, a windbreaker, several protective stones. I hesitated before adding one of the pendants Clydan had given me. Would my Fire Avian father know what I was about to do?

  From my duffle bag, I took out one of the feathers Dylan had given me before the fateful evening of my attack.

  The inn had a small park further from the main building. Walking the path towards it, I could hear some very distant rumbling. Yet my energy felt the same.

  The groun
d was sparsely covered with fallen leaves which made crushing sounds under my shoes.

  I made my way to a bench where Dylan had once sat with me, here, in the middle of the night, talking for a few moments. He had been giving me advice, being supportive, reassuring.

  I had not known what would happen.

  Not far from the bench there was a tree, and all around it were more fallen leaves. Lots more.

  It was on a hunch, again, that I got up, and stopping close to the tree, I left the feather I had in my hands in the middle of the fallen leaves. I only had several similar feathers left.

  There was more distant rumbling, and I could see flashes of light on the horizon.

  And then, just like that, there was a stirring in the air. It was strong. I was holding on the pendant around my neck when I felt and saw something floating in the air. Something grey, white. Couldn’t be snow. It was still too warm.

  It was ash.

  It stopped. There was a small dusting of ash on my hands and arms.

  I whispered.

  “Dylan?”

  Then it stopped.

  The next morning, I heard that the tree near the bench where I had been sitting had been hit by lightning.

  @@@

  CHAPTER 1

  The man who was waiting at Finders was about my height, had long, dark auburn hair, and was a little stocky.

  “Where’s Dylan?” he asked without preamble.

  He was not smiling.

  Magnus looked a little tense.

  “Good morning. I’m Clementine Bayle. Dylan Hewitt is away, out of the country. He’s taking a long sabbatical and has left me in charge. How may I help you?”

  This man was an Avian. My upper arm had this intense burning sensation when one was close.

  “I need to get in touch with him.”

  “I can always try to reach him.” I said, not too convincingly. “Maybe I can help? Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

  This man had to know about Dylan’s “status”.

  “I’m looking for someone...”

  He was not giving me his name, but suddenly I had a feeling of who he might be.

  Couldn’t he sense part of my heritage?

  “Let’s have a chat in my office?”

  Magnus was still standing. The Avian gentleman was not moving. I went to get myself a cup of coffee and offered him one.

  “My name Is Tarren. Tarren Jones.”

  “Can I offer you some coffee, Mr. Jones?”

  “Water would be better.”

  I sensed Magnus was getting increasingly tense.

  He probably thought, like I did, that this man was blunt, borderline rude.

  When I handed the man his water, he did say.

  “Thank you.”

  I gestured to where my office was.

  “Please have a seat. I will be with you in a few moments.”

  Magnus whispered.

  “I don’t trust him.”

  We both knew that if this man was a preternatural he could likely hear us. Magnus had chosen his words on purpose.

  “Say the word...”

  “Thanks, Magnus, for having my back. I’ll let you know.”

  I half-closed the door behind me and sat behind my desk.

  “Would you prefer dealing with Dylan?” I asked the gentleman who called himself Tarren.

  “Why did he leave you in charge?”

  Usually, when someone who didn’t know Dylan would ask me that, I would say he had been a friend of a friend or someone from my university days.

  “He hired me after a common acquaintance recommended me.”

  I knew he would not believe me, yet he surprised me by saying.

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  “Missing person?”

  “Someone who did something he shouldn’t have.”

  This could be long. I took out a pad and a pen, turned on my desktop.

  I was trying so hard for the agency to stay away from missing person cases, but it seemed unavoidable.

  “Have you contacted the police?”

  “This is not a police matter. I’d rather not involve them.”

  This Avian had to have sensed something arcane in my nature, yet he didn’t seem to mind, or was not interested in what he thought he perceived.

  “Very well. What can you tell me about the person you’re looking for?”

  “He’s on the run and has taken another name. I do not know it.”

  He hesitated before asking.

  “Before I go on, I have a few questions about you. I know your employee over there is a shapeshifter, but you, Miss Bayle, are you a witch or have you another nature?”

  That was bold of him to ask, especially if I had no preternatural roots.

  “You did know about your man outside?”

  “Well, first of all, he’s not my man, and yes, I am aware of who Magnus is. As for who I am, sir, I’ve been called an eclectic magick practitioner by some. If you already know Dylan and this agency, you know as well as I do that, we deal with all kinds of cases and requests. Now, if you could tell me more about the person you’re looking for?”

  “Where I come from, his name is Lonkstian. He wouldn’t be using that name here. I heard this man befriends vampires. He likes to go to what you call adult entertainment venues, and he might have a business that caters to car owners. He lives here in Montreal, or not far from the city.”

  His wording led me to believe he might not have visited our world that often. His tone was one used to give orders.

  I had an intuitive “feeling” about who he was looking for, but I wanted to be sure.

  I wrote down some notes.

  “You speak of where you and this man come from. May I ask where that would be?”

  “For now, you may not.”

  I could have stopped the meeting there. Instead, I had some coffee, took a deep inner breath, and asked.

  “Do you have a physical description of this person you’re looking for?”

  “I could give you one, but it would be useless, as he has likely altered his appearance.”

  What did this man expect? If he was who I thought he was, had he contacted the Consortium, or at least Orvan, the current archivist and fellow Fire Avian?

  Asking him that question would let him know I knew more than I’d said.

  “So, we might be talking about a preternatural, maybe Fae or shapeshifter?”

  He didn’t protest, nor leave, but he frowned, as if disgusted.

  “Not Fae.”

  “How long ago did he disappear?”

  He hesitated again.

  “It must have been twenty years ago.”

  “How old is this man?”

  “He might look like he’s thirty. I’m not sure.”

  “Are you aware of an organization, here in Montreal, called the Consortium?”

  “I know of them.”

  “They have archives on every preternatural race that are very current. Maybe you could talk to their archivist? His name is Orvan.”

  That was the bait.

  Tarren Jones didn’t flinch.

  “I thought that would be part of your work for me. If you want my business.”

  “Sir, you have not given much to work with, but let me see what I can find out. There is a retainer...”

  “But I know Dylan. He’s a...”

  “Friend?”

  “More like a countryman.”

  “I see.”

  There was a charged silence.

  “I will pay this... retainer.”

  Now, I was just curious to see how he would pay.

  I filled out a form and an invoice, printed it, handed the originals to the gentleman.

  “If you could fill out this part and sign the form, please?”

  He took a moment before taking the pen on the desk and scribbled... something.

  That mark on my upper arm had never stopped burning. The pain was still bearable.

  Tarren got a wa
llet out of his coat pocket and counted twice the bills.

  I guess he didn’t have a debit card.

  I looked at the form for his contact information. He had left that part blank.

  “How do I reach you if I find out something?”

  “I will be back here to meet with you in three days.”

  “Very well. Let’s get you an appointment.”

  Magnus looked ready to jump out of his seat.

  “Could we give this gentleman an appointment in three days? Same time would be good? I asked Tarren.

  “It is acceptable.”

  Magnus wrote down the info on one of our business cards and handed it to me.

  Would I dare touch the hand of the stranger, going as far as shaking it?

  Could I handle his energy for even a brief moment?

  I decided not to try. Who knows what the Avian would sense from me.

  He took the card quickly and said.

  “I will be back in three days. Hopefully, you will have something for me.”

  And he walked away.

  “Were the wards up?” I asked Magnus.

  “No.”

  “Okay. I know I just got here, but I have to go back upstairs for a little while. You can hold down the fort?”

  “Always. Is everything alright?”

  “I think so. I should be back in about an hour.”

  It was still mid-morning.

  Upstairs, I put the money Tarren Jones had given me in a safe place.

  I was not sleepy, but I would try to get to the Dreamlands another way.

  Just hoped it worked out because I really needed to find someone as soon as possible.

  @@@

  That I had made it to the Dreamlands by visualizing and connecting to my arcane energy left me excited and a little worried.

  This was getting too easy.

  The auto repair shop was the same one I had visited before. I just didn’t know if the one I was looking for was here. There was no music. I looked around. Couldn’t see anyone working under a car.

  Did I dare try to travel to another dreamscape?

  I tried visualizing a beach on a sunny day with a vintage car parked not far.

  I thought I was being too hopeful when it took me a moment to realize I was there. Everything had a dreamy, fuzzy quality.

  I just hope my body was still fine, back in Dylan’s apartment.

  I was still wearing what I had dressed in earlier.