A Thousand and One

by Daria Doshrelli

  “I really wish you wouldn’t do that in here,” Tad called out behind her.

  She continued to hum under her breath and kept her eyes on her task as if she had not heard.

  He probably needed to talk about something unrelated to the case to get her attention. “The pigeons are acting very strange lately. Nan has disappeared. Sev is being serious. Only Pip is still himself.”

  Claire put a plain cork stopper in the concoction she had apparently just created. It looked a lot like raspberry jam but his scientific helper had never been known to dabble in anything sensible. “Or maybe you never knew them at all,” she answered without bothering to turn and face him.

  Tad didn’t want to have this conversation again. He had recently learned the pigeons were only magical black birds on the surface but were actually some other being underneath. Something secret. But they were still pests. “What’s this you’ve made?” he asked.

  “Raspberry jam.”

  “In the library?”

  “Where else?” She lifted the glass vial and turned it round as she inspected the contents. “Imogene has taken over the kitchen with something vile…smelled up the whole place.”

  “I remember her saying she doesn’t cook.”

  “I don’t think what she’s making is for eating. But if you’re here to pester me I take it you haven’t solved the case?” Claire’s voice was so even it was as if she didn’t care to argue with him at all. “It may appear to you that I’m dillydallying but when I am particularly stumped about an important fact, cooking helps me think…so if I were you I’d get back to work if you’re still trying to win our bet.”

  Tad tried to get a look at her face to discern her mood but she kept her attention on her vial of red stuff. “I brought you a gift.”

  “Won’t your true love be jealous?” Her tone was stone bored.

  “Don’t you want to see what it is?”

  “You want to show me and I have no objection to seeing it.” She set the vial on the table and whirled around on her stool.

  Tad held out the spinning wheel. “I thought you might use it to make clothes or blankets for your little roc pets...Where are they, anyway?” He hadn’t seen them for a while.

  “Interesting you should ask. Well, the thing is, as adults their wingspans will reach a magnificent twenty meters in length, and that’s without adjusting for extra growth due to the nutritional surpluses in captivity relative to their native environment, thanks to my meticulous research into their particular needs and my negotiations with the local merchants to obtain such fare as they require. Furthermore, Georgie has developed a tendency to eat Porgie’s food. Now, Imogene says it’s a natural result of Georgie being the dominant member of the brood, but I think…”

  Never mind. Tad set the spinning wheel next to the raspberry jam and hopped onto the table alongside it as Claire continued to babble about her family of baby rocs. She simply refused to acknowledge these were not normal creatures for a person to possess. From the scraps of prattle he managed to interpret, she was trying to reintroduce them to their native environment, so that was a positive sign she wasn’t completely addled.

  “What sort of creatures do you think the pigeons are?” he asked over the top of Claire’s mutterings about the nesting habits of indigenous species of enchanted island birds. “I mean, if I understood you correctly, your rocs aren’t exactly birds but they are often mistaken for them. So, maybe you’ve worked out what Sev, Nan and Pip actually are?”

  Claire studied him as if his question were something other than a perfectly innocent inquiry. “You could ask them yourself.”

  His head dipped toward the floor. “You might not have noticed but they like to play tricks on me. On my first case Sev pretended he could read my mind. How was I to know if it was true? Pip insults me for no reason. And there’s a desperate female, magic, talking wardrobe over there…” He pointed to where Madeline and her ilk sat. “…and all three of the pigeons let me figure that out on my own…and then they thought it was very funny when I did, even though that wardrobe made me recite poetry and tried to make me kiss her. Just today Nan laughed at me over a very serious matter…So you see, if I ask them any questions I just can’t be sure what nonsense I’ll get.”

  Claire’s dimples appeared and her eyes sparkled with amusement. “My favorite antic of theirs is when Wiggy sneaks up on you.”

  “You were only there the one time.”

  “But the birds told me about the other times…and then they show me in the globe, too. Yes, even the recent incident with the pillow.”

  Tad could feel his face crumbling into a pout. “So what are they, then?”

  “Well, they’re magical beings.”

  Obviously.

  “Nan has been Lady Love’s servant since olden times. Sev is…still to be determined. And Pip is the most mysterious of all. But he’s a dear.” She had begun tapping on her chin.

  Tad had enough experience with sisters to know ladies longed to tell everything they knew, and he needed only wait to hear every last detail Claire had snooped. So he was quiet while she wrestled between the temptation to spew and the desire to keep him in the dark.

  “I think I’ll ask Sev for clarification on what he meant by some of his answers to my hypothetical questions…I had a weird vision about him the night before last. It was just one of those silly dreams but my mind might have uncovered something…” She stared up at the ceiling as if lost in thought.

  “I think he’s a pirate,” Tad said.

  “Ha!” Claire slapped her thigh. “Definitely not. But I think he might be—”

  “A sorcerer,” a deep voice said. “Or at least, once upon a time I was.”

  Tad and Claire jerked their heads to where Sev was sitting alone on the shelf Claire used to house her scientific items.

  Sev’s eyeballs swiveled back and forth between them. “I was once a powerful sorcerer, but I obtained my magic through…well, I’ll just say the means were less than respectable. But I thought myself invincible and, in my pride, I was ready take down the monarchy.” He looked at Tad. “Shub-Haramb was my seat of power, as you may have already guessed. I took the name of Yavaar, sometimes pronounced Jafaar in the many tales written about me. But my true name is Sevde, which comes from an ancient eastern word for love. I rejected what I saw as an impoverished heritage and sought out power and wealth. Once I had both, I planned to marry a princess to legitimize my claim to the throne. This I was determined to do by any means necessary, and that included a number of dastardly deeds…You can ask around Shub-Haramb if you wish to know the details. But Lady Love intervened and the princess chose another, a mere pauper, over me. A few decades imprisoned for my actions had me thinking real power was not what I had always believed. Love had undone my sorcery, all my misdeeds. I offered to throw off my robes of shame and serve the Lady, and she accepted. And now you know everything there is to know about me. Not quite as fascinating as the guesses you likely came up with based on my charming voice.”

  The library was silent as Tad and Claire stared at the bird.

  “That’s a bit more than I imagined,” Claire said.

  “Hmm.” Tad wondered if Sev might have secrets yet. And why the sudden desire to tell all?

  “Why do you say all this now but not when I asked you about yourself?” Claire said.

  Sev’s throat produced a guttural bird chuckle. “You did not ask a single plain question but only hypothetical ones. Else, I might have told you.”

  “Oh.” Claire screwed up her face.

  “So I was right, then?” Tad said. “Be sure to tell Pip, wherever he is.”

  Sev let out a long sigh. “Yes, this case brings back memories of how bad I once was. This is the first time since I entered the Lady’s service that there has been a case in Shub-Haramb. I’m not welcome there.”

  Claire shrugged. “But nobody would recognize you as a bird.”

  “There are some who might,” Sev replied. “Besides, I ha
ve instructions not to…get involved.”

  Tad decided not to inquire about this. All he had to do was solve the case and whatever dark things Shub-Haramb held were none of his concern. Except for the strange creature with the yellow eyes this case hadn’t been terrifying at all. Claire asked if Sev knew any eastern stories about the origin of gold, and this idle chitchat reminded Tad of his own unfinished errand.

  He left the two of them to their conversation and magicked himself home. Roselle’s necklace was just where he had left it, safe and sound. He slipped the box into his pocket and set off for the square where he hoped to get a few moments alone with his true love.

  Claire was busy making jam, so he had the luxury of taking the afternoon to plan his wooing. And the pigeons were leaving him alone, too, which never happened. Yes, he had better deliver the goods while he had the chance.

  It took him over an hour to find Roselle. After searching all of her usual haunts, her lovely voice at last reached his ears over the goings on in the square. She was just exiting the dress shop. Her three companions turned to admire the window display and Tad saw his chance. He withdrew the square lump in his pocket, cleared his throat and rushed toward her.

  Roselle froze upon seeing him.

  He gave her a polite bow and held out the box. “A gift for the lady,” he said, and immediately regretted being in such a rush. Where was his planned eloquent speech? “I saw this and thought immediately of you.”

  Roselle’s eyes brightened. “Oh?” She accepted the box with a single raised eyebrow. Her teeth chewed on her lower lip a little as she lifted the lid. “Oh, well…” She frowned. “That’s very…thoughtful of you…I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.”

  Tad’s spirits fell. What must he do to impress this woman? There was no better gift in all of Shub-Haramb and Enoras combined. “Do you think you might like to try it on?” he asked. Once her friends remarked on its unsurpassed beauty, she would be very charmed by it, he was sure.

  The lady’s eyes slowly lifted and landed on his. She stared intensely into his pupils. But instead of deepest affection he met with profound confusion. “Isn’t it for Mister Tiddledinks, to make him a bed?”

  Tad craned his neck and peeked over the lid of the box. “What? That’s not…” His hand shot to the pile of straw that lay where the necklace had been. The merchant had cheated him. But how? “I’m sorry, milady, but…” He had no words to explain this puzzle. In any case he should console her over the matter of Popo. “I thought…er…Mister Tiddledinks might have run away by now…they are such wandering creatures, you know. But I apparently picked up the wrong box. Please, excuse me.” He plucked the box from her fingers, swept her a bow and trudged off.

  Somebody cheating him was one thing. That happened frequently when buying exotic merchandise in faraway lands, probably. But making him look like a fool in front of his true love was just plain wicked.

  How had the merchant managed the switch? The necklace had been in Tad’s pocket since the exchange and he saw it again upon putting it into the box. Had his home intruder returned and managed to hide and see where he had put the box when he went to the library?

  But this was improbable. The intruder had neglected to steal any number of valuable items in plain sight. They had been after something in the cupboard, and that was certainly not a place for anything precious. Tad wasn’t sure how the deed had been done, but the more he reflected on his time in Shub-Haramb, the more unhappy feelings pricked at his gut.

  The mysterious thief called Alibaba had pulled one over on him.

  Chapter 10

  “Hey there!” Tad marched across the crowded marketplace toward the man who had sold him the necklace.

  The merchant turned from where he was packing up his wares and cast Tad a glance. “No returns, no substitutions.”

  “Forget about that. What do you know about Alibaba?” Tad jiggled the money pouch at his side. He had gone home and collected the money he normally used for monthly expenses, and that meant whatever he spent trying to track down Alibaba was coming out of his dinner fund. The information the merchant had on the gang of thieves had better be worth it.

  “Alibaba is the greatest thief in all the realms,” the dealer replied.

  Tad was less than impressed. “But who is he? Where did you acquire the necklace you sold me?”

  The merchant’s dark eyes narrowed. “I cannot remember.”

  Tad rattled his money pouch again. “For three silverpiece can you remember, first what did whoever sold you the necklace look like? Second, what else did you buy from him? Third, did he have anybody else with him?”

  The man’s gaze stayed on Tad’s coin sack. “Nobody else with him, just a horse. He traded two handfuls of gold bracelets and necklaces for...other items.” He shrugged. “Young, happy mood, good customer.”

  “Was everything he sold you jewelry? No silver or gems, just gold?”

  The merchant nodded.

  “What color was the horse?”

  “Black.”

  Tad reluctantly handed over three silver pieces for these scraps of information. There was no use trying to get any more out of him. The man was obviously a practiced thief himself. But that wasn’t as disturbing as the misgivings creeping into Tad’s gut. Slowly, an image was forming in his mind, the kind that would have Claire congratulating herself.

  As much as he hated to consider it, what if Claire’s clue wasn’t useless after all? What could Zaen have been up to that would change his situation, make a wealthy man out of a pauper? Still, he had no proof Zaen had been the one who sold the merchant the jewelry. Possession of a black horse and a gold necklace in his saddle bag weren’t exactly condemning evidence.

  Tad magicked himself to the stables, right where he had landed the first time he came to Shub-Haramb in search of Zaen. The man himself was leaning against the wall of the stables with his back to Tad, watching Della gallop off atop a black horse toward a small field. He had gotten himself a new pair of pants. The ones he had on before were a patchwork of mismatched fabrics sewn onto the original garment, clearly to deal with numerous holes. His feet were shod in boots, too, unlike the sandals he had worn in the marketplace. Unfortunately, this sudden change of wardrobe didn’t bode well for Tad’s hope that Zaen didn’t lead a double life as a poor but respectable horse groom and also an infamous thief.

  Tad moved behind a tree near where he had seen the creature with the yellow eyes. It was the only place he could hide until Zaen moved on, though he kept looking behind him to make sure he was alone. Now he just had to wait and see what his client was up to, hopefully without attracting the attention of any magical, malevolent beings.

  Della and her mount disappeared behind a line of trees and Zaen at last turned away from watching her. He looked a little mopey for a man who had just given the woman of his dreams a special gift. But then, that didn’t always go as planned. Tad immediately felt a kinship with Zaen’s frown and downcast eyes. What could any man give a woman who seemed to have everything? Love, that was all he could give, and Tad hoped mightily that the pigeons had not made a mistake as Claire had suggested they might, that the Lady had indeed paired up Della and Zaen.

  The lovesick groom did not head back into the stables but walked right past where Tad had hidden himself. Not far off was a large house three stories tall set against the backdrop of the city, and Zaen headed straight for it. That must be Della’s home, stately and grand. Gardeners busied themselves about the hedgerows and flower beds which were kept in a style that suggested origins not of Shub-Haramb. Tad might have arranged his own property in a similar way were it not too much upkeep for a single man who needed to devote himself to the pursuit of romance.

  Following Zaen proved quite the chore as Tad had to magic himself behind the many statues on the premise to avoid the notice of the servants bustling about. At the far end of the property, away from the noise the garden staff were making with their workplace chatter, Tad spied what must have been Della’s
mother ambling the grounds on her husband’s arm. The two were a fine pair, both of them bedecked in splendid garments, though Della’s mother was decidedly not from Shub-Haramb, while her father, though every bit as finely clad, appeared to be a native with his dark hair and eyes.

  Tad was distracted for several moments wondering how the two had met and married, and had his quarry not headed straight for them he might have gotten away. Della’s parents turned toward Zaen and Tad was just about to magic himself behind the hedgerow nearest them when Claire stepped out from behind the statue of a unicorn, hands on her hips, a scowl leveled right at him that might have been serious were it not for her dimply cheeks.

  “Why are you following me?” she demanded as color flooded her face.

  “I’m following Zaen. So why are you following me?”

  “I’m following Della’s father. I suspect—”

  “I don’t have time for your hypothesis. I want to hear what they’re talking about.”

  Claire turned to where Zaen’s father had taken leave of his wife and was walking alongside Zaen now, the two of them making their way silently toward the house. She snapped her head around to Tad again. “Well, it looks like they’re not talking about anything yet but I suppose we could both follow them and find out if they’re up to no good or just taking a stroll.”

  Tad shook his head emphatically. “You just want to steal my clue again.”

  Claire rolled her eyes upward and grunted out a sigh. “I have yet to see you produce a clue.”

  Just because something was very romantic that didn’t make it not a clue. Her interference had already cost him a very beautiful bracelet, plus the trouble she had caused in their last case. Tad wasn’t about to waste any more time arguing with her since he would just prove his way was right. This resolved, he magicked himself after Zaen and Della’s father, who had just disappeared behind the side of the house.

  Claire manifest beside him, still chattering about how she conceded that the Della de Courville shrine in Zaen’s room was only a clue because it confirmed her own scientific suspicions. She blathered on about something else and blah, blah, blah. Tad couldn’t be bothered to hear a word of it. Just as he had guessed, the two men entered the house through a side door and he was right behind them. He pressed his ear against the door. No noises came from inside so he summoned his courage and magicked himself inside.