Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

I tugged the top off the muffin.
    “Well—” A knock at the door cut her off and Momma R called out to the visitor. “Come in.” The wards across the door slid away at her voice, granting the visitor entry.
    Papa Finn with all his pure unicorn-y glory came in first, his arms overloaded with bags. Arms, not hooves. He spent most of his time on two legs rather than four. What with all of the humans in the world obsessed with unicorn lore. Even dressed in jeans, boots and a ratty t-shirt, he was the image of purity. It flowed from him, the graceful way he walked and the nurturing aura that enveloped him.
    Some of my dads were growly and violent—Papa Al who taught me to harness the wolf and Papa Leth who handed me a sword the second I took my first step. They made me tough, made me fierce.
    Papa Finn gave me love and enough purity that kept me from being completely damned.
    I abandoned my muffin and raced to him, not caring that I was a woman of over six hundred. I was Papa Finn’s little girl at heart and I needed him.
    I threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly, and cut right to the chase. “Can you help him, Papa?”
    I got a gentle kiss on the top of my head, a blanket of calm drifting over me with that touch, and I released him. I stepped back, giving him space to move into the small kitchen.
    “Not directly.” He placed his bags on the table. “I’m afraid there are limits to unicorn magic when it comes to supernatural illness. I can purify most poisons and disease, but nothing crafted by a witch or demon.” He reached into the nearest bundle. “I think there’s another way I could help.”
    He pulled out a long stick, two angular pieces jutting out to form a Y. A variety of herbs, flowers, and other things I didn’t want to question soon followed.
    “We tried all the healing magic we could,” I said. “But if you think— “
    “This isn’t for healing,” Papa Finn cut in. “It’s for dowsing. Normally, when I don’t have Eron with me, I’d use a dowsing rod to find pure, clean water in the wilderness.” Yeah, Papa Eron came in handy during camping trips. Father Earth could always find the greatest stuff in the forest. “I can make sure it’s something safe to drink. But, under the right circumstances, I can identify what’s polluting the supply and reverse the effect.”
    I followed his train of thought, trying to keep up with the twists and turns, but my exhausted brain managed to puzzle it through. “So, if you can search the house for something that’s impure or tainted, we might be able to figure out if it’s something he touched, ate, or drank.”
    Or stuck in his mouth when he wasn’t supposed to. I’d baby-proofed my own house more than once, but Bryony always managed to find something. For a human parent, that might be a stray button or earing. For me, it was a random zombie eyeball or still-twitching finger.
    Papa Finn worked with Momma R and Jezze to prepare the dowsing rod for use to hunt tainted magic and I stood off to the side, out of their way—a useless lump of flesh. I’d have preferred having a job—something that involved pain and death. That was when my skillset came in handy.
    They wrapped the dowsing rod in chains of flowers, sprinklings of herbs, whispered words of power, and finally a light mist of pure spring water from Papa Finn. Between my father’s innate abilities, the rod, and the addition of magic, we hoped to be able to find the magical taint.
    When the rod absorbed the last droplets of water, my father took a deep breath and released it slowly, his attention firmly on the device. He carefully reached for the two ends of the Y, pointing the other end away from his body. The length of aged hazel wood pulsed ever so slightly with a pure white light.
    “Now,” Papa Finn looked to me, determination in his eyes. “Let’s see if there’s anything in this house that isn’t pure.”

3
    T he rod swinging around to point directly at me was not