The Holy Church of the Virgin was the oldest Catholic church in Steelshore. The façade mimicked Notre Dame in Paris. Not as grand, but just as breathtaking. The single rose stained glass stretched across the front of the church.

 

Kyrie and I tried the front door, but it was locked. We walked around the building, finding other locked entrances.

 

“Why would it be closed today?” I wondered.

 

“Doesn’t make sense to me. It’s a historical site, and it’s usually filled with tourists,” Kyrie said.

 

A young woman with three children approached the doors and found them locked, too. She saw us watching and approached us.

 

“Why is the church closed?” she asked.

 

“We don’t know. We wanted to see the inside,” I said.

 

“I come here and light a candle for my beloved papa every week. It has never been closed,” she said.

 

“Maybe try again tomorrow,” I suggested.

 

She nodded, then herded her children away.

 

“Well, are we breaking and entering?” Kyrie asked.

 

“Yep!” I replied.

 

“That’s my girl,” he said with a proud grin.

 

We stalked back around the end of the building where the most concealed door stood. Hedges on each side would mask our entry. I placed my hand on the knob of the door and reached deep within myself. I buried the cold there because it interfered with my phoenix abilities. But freezing things solid had benefits. The metal cooled under my hand as I pumped Winter power into it. The knob became brittle and quietly shattered in my hand. I dropped the shards on the ground and stepped into the church.

 

Immediately, I smelled blood. That acrid copper odor assaulted my lungs, and I covered my nose. My free hand turned to fire, and I felt Kyrie move magic behind me. We stepped into the main sanctuary of the church. Above the alter, a woman hovered in a blue forcefield ward. I didn’t need to use my sight to see it. As we circled around her, we could tell that she was clearly dead. Blood dripped from her body into a growing puddle.

 

“This is recent,” Kyrie hissed.

 

“Yeah,” I said, looking around the room. “I don’t feel anyone else here. Do you?”

 

He shook his head, but we remained vigilant. He looked up to the woman and gasped. “Winnie. She’s a fairy.”

 

I looked at her again and saw the pointed tips of her ears which were masked by her long brown hair.

 

“Shit.”

 

“You can say that again.”

“Shit. Shit.”