Dream Walker (Bailey Spade 1)

The rest of Pom turns light orange. “Could someone have hidden in the castle after such an event? Maybe that’s who’s killing the victims.”

Huh. It’s possible. I sink both hands into his fur as my mind flips through the alternatives. “What about the monks? One of them could’ve done it. They’re the closest to something like a butler—and in Earth mysteries, it’s always the butler who’s done it.”

Pom wriggles out of my hold and circles around me. “I thought the monks didn’t have any powers.”

“They don’t. That’s why no one suspects them. Killing the most powerful Cognizant isn’t easy.”

“Then who else could it have been?”

I have no idea. I rub my forehead. “Someone good at sneaking?”

With no answers to give him, I can’t face the hope and trust in his eyes. Floating over to a prism mirror, I stare blankly at my iridescent reflection. It has to be someone from outside the castle, someone from outside the Council’s domain entirely. As busy as they’ve kept me, I’ve had no time to notice who might be—

The mirror reflects a dream manifestation of a lightbulb above my head as the idea hits me.

There is someone who’s able to get in and out of the castle on a whim. He did it the very first day I was there.

“Valerian!” I exclaim, whirling around. “Valerian uses his illusionist powers to make himself invisible.”

Pom’s lavender eyes widen, his pupils transforming into red hearts. “But don’t you want him?”

I’m not going to dignify that with a response. “Think about it. His power is uniquely useful against powerful Cognizant.”

“How so?”

“An illusionist can make you see anything.” I change our surroundings to illustrate my point, creating a room where the ceiling is the floor and the floor is the ceiling, with pucks scampering across the walls. “An illusionist can use his powers to make others do the dirty work for him, so Valerian could’ve made Ryan see an enemy where his wife stood, causing him to shoot her with his own arrow.” I change our surroundings to the scene of Tatum’s death, the arrow protruding cruelly from her chest before conjuring up a translucent Valerian, who sends an arc of his mojo at the elf.

Then I show Pom what happens from Ryan’s point of view: Tatum becomes Eduardo and begins screaming at the elf, telling Ryan what he’s done with his wife, calling him a cuckold and worse. Eventually, Ryan snaps and, raising his bow, shoots the “werewolf” in the chest.

Except, of course, it wasn’t the werewolf. It was Tatum.

“Huh,” Pom says. “Go on.”

I dispel the crime scene and make a cliff appear. “Valerian could also have made it so that Ryan walked off the cliff on his own—no push needed. Or he could’ve made himself invisible and simply pushed.” I make that scenario play out in front of Pom. “Or maybe both. Maybe Ryan realized he’d shot his own wife instead of an illusion, so he committed suicide.”

“It tracks.” Pom’s ears wiggle. “But what about the others?”

I recreate the bird attack crime scene. “Valerian could’ve made Gemma think Leal was her enemy, and then had her summon the birds to kill him. For that matter, he could’ve made the birds see something tasty where Leal was standing, thus causing that attack.” I create Leal and turn him into a bowl of grain.

Pom turns black. “Illusionists have too much power.”

“Yeah. Yeah, they do.” I recreate Gemma’s torn body. “Here again, Valerian could’ve made someone strong—probably Eduardo—see an enemy attacking, so Eduardo ripped the ‘enemy’ in half. Or he could’ve shown Eduardo the illusion of Gemma provoking him, until he snapped and killed her. He could’ve even used his powers to drive that werewolf insane at JFK, to make sure the Enforcers were away.”

Pom bobs his head, his eyes bigger than usual.

I’m on a roll now. It’s coming together so clearly. “Finally, Valerian could’ve shown Eduardo something that drove him to choke Albina to death.” I create a bedroom with Albina lying in bed, then swap her for Ryan the elf. “Alternatively, the choking might’ve been part of sex play, but Valerian could’ve made Eduardo think that Albina was asking him to squeeze harder. He could’ve used illusion to hide any sign she was choking.”

Pom’s ears droop. He looks sick. “What about Eduardo? Could you make someone give themselves an injection using illusions?”

“Sure,” I say. “Valerian could’ve made himself invisible, then waltzed in and swapped the syringe with steroids for the one with the REM drug.” I recreate the scene. A translucent Valerian watches as Eduardo accidentally kills himself. “For all we know, Valerian was still there, invisible to us when we found the body.”

Pom’s fur trembles.

I turn the translucent Valerian more opaque and study his perfect features. Can someone with such a gorgeous face be a killer?

What am I thinking? Of course he can. Besides, who says Valerian even looks this way? He might look like a leper with missing teeth and—