by Amy Hopkins
“Fine,” Penny conceded. “But he’s not getting my leftovers until I’m actually finished, okay? If I have to leave for the loo or something, you’d better guard my food with your life.”
“Pinkie swear.” Amelia crooked her little finger and clasped it around Penny’s, giggling.
They filled plates for themselves, and Amelia happily accepted the serving platter Cook handed her for Red.
“Poor boy, he’s wasting away over there.” Cook looked ready to pounce over the servery to hand Red the dish herself. “You make sure you pile it up nice and high, now!”
“Yes, Cook.” Amelia did as she was instructed, confident that even with her boyfriend’s voracious appetite to contend with, the kitchen would have more than enough to feed every student on the premises.
The break passed quickly, and Penny felt ready to tackle the rest of the day with a full belly and a hot coffee when she arrived at her next class.
Anand waited for the last of the straggling students to file in and take a seat before she closed the door. She glanced around, lips pursed. “Where is Trevor?”
Trevor had not only taken a deep interest in the class, but he was also Anand’s go-to when she needed a class assistant. Now, his usual seat in the front corner of the classroom was empty.
“He’s on a case, Professor.” Penny figured there was no need to let Anand know the “case” hadn’t technically been approved yet. Whatever Trevor was working on, he seemed to believe it was urgent enough to miss his favorite class.
Anand looked down over her spectacles. “Trevor is on a case?”
Mara frowned and raised a hand. “I didn’t think our missions were allowed to impact on class attendance.”
“They’re not,” Anand snapped. “Not without permission from their instructor.”
Oh. Penny hoped she hadn’t gotten either Trevor or Agent Crenel in trouble with the usually kind instructor.
Anand moved on with the class, one that covered several instances of computer viruses that defied logic, a string of incredible luck after a chain of emails was passed around, and a wizened old lady who claimed to be cured of cancer through the good people sharing her social media story. Further testing revealed the woman had no DNA. She was a Myther, complete with a convincing but false stack of papers “proving” her medical claims.
“The prevalence of these cyber myths-turned-reality is increasing,” Anand told them. “And the forms they take seem to shift and change as fast as the internet itself. I cannot stress how much care you must take online or on a device whose origins you are not certain of.”
She dismissed the class with one last shake of her head at Trevor’s empty seat, one that stuck with Penny as she headed toward her next lesson.
British Mythology ended with a similar warning—that creatures from Myth and Legend were pouring through the Veil at an unprecedented pace. Over in England, politicians were fighting over what to do about it, with suggestions ranging from a ban on Mythological activity unless properly licensed, to a task force comprised almost entirely of Mythers themselves designed to thwart the less desirable newcomers.
Penny left the class with her head swimming, thankful that Cisco, Amelia, and Red had also been made to choose the class this semester so she could debrief.
“Do they really think they can just conscript a bunch of Mythers into an army to fight their own?” she asked, pushing around tater tots on her plate.
“They’re politicians. They think they could conscript half the population to scrub their bathrooms if they needed to.” Cisco offered Penny a jug of gravy, but she shook her head.
Red pushed back from the table. “It’s all bollocks, anyway. They can’t force them to do anything. If they tried, they’d get their asses handed back to them on a pike.”
“Asses go on a platter, Red.” Penny slid her still-full plate toward him, and he sat back down with a grin as he tucked into her uneaten dinner. “Heads go on a pike.”
“And where do you think they’ll find their heads?” Red asked through a mouthful of food.
“Good point.” Penny wiped her face and eyed Cisco. She jutted her chin toward his napkin and, blushing, he wiped the smudge of grease off his chin.
“Is that my son using something other than his shirt to wipe his face?” Professor Madera walked over, placed a stack of folders on the table, and pulled out a chair, ignoring her son’s groan as he shrank down in his seat.
“Come on, Mom. You promised you’d stop embarrassing me in public.”
“I was complimenting you. Or perhaps whoever instigated this new Cisco.” Her smile didn’t entirely reach her eyes, though, and her mouth quickly puckered back into a worried line.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” Cisco leaned over and placed a hand on his mother’s arm.
“Nothing at all. I simply wanted to ask how you are all doing with your classes this semester.” Madera’s eyes flicked to Penny. “We have some new teachers, some from quite a distance away.”
“Classes are fine.” Cisco leaned back and rubbed his stomach. “Boring, but fine.”
“My son. Learning about living, breathing, magical beings, and he calls it boring.” Madera shook her head, patting Cisco’s arm as she stood. “As long as ‘boring’ is as bad as it gets, I am happy. But if any of you are having trouble with your classes—or the professors teaching them—you come and see me, okay?”
“Classes are fine, Mom, and so are the professors. We don’t have another Jones. It’s not like you to worry so much.” Cisco squeezed her arm. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”
Madera quirked an eyebrow. “Wrong? Apart from the newest intake, which is full of egotistical young men and women who are sure that the answer to the Veil’s secret lies on Instagram, seventy papers that need grading, ninety-two applications for the teaching assistant’s job I posted and the pile of washing someone left on the hallway floor this morning? Everything’s fine.”
Cisco winced. “Sorry. Probably should have warned you I was bringing my laundry.”
“Cisco!” Penny thumped his arm. “You lazy shit! She’s your mother, not your slave.”
Madera chuckled. “Actually, the washing wasn’t left for me to do. I recently acquired a fairy prone to doing housework. I happened to ask Cisco if he had anything that needed doing because if she isn’t kept busy, she does tend to get into mischief. Once, she baked ninety-two cupcakes in a single morning. They were hard as rocks, unfortunately.” She eyed her son. “However, her tiny frame is unsuited to lifting a basket piled three feet high with clothes. I almost broke my neck when I tripped over it this morning.”
Cisco stuck his tongue out at Penny, who simply rolled her eyes in response.
“The offer is open to the three of you. The fairy is quite good at removing stubborn stains, actually.” Madera smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “But God help you if you leave it somewhere for me to trip over.”
“Yes, Mom.” Cisco stood with his mother and hugged her briefly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry yourself.” Madera waited until Cisco sat down and ruffled his hair despite his grimace. “I have been used to your ways for a long time now.”
Penny watched her go, wondering if the queasiness in her gut really was just the greasy dinner, or if it was trying to tell her something.
Chapter Nine
Penny didn’t see Trevor again until late that night. She had sent him a text message after Cybermythology, warning him that Professor Anand hadn’t been happy with his absence, and Trevor had replied with a rather uninformative Thanks.
In reply, Penny offered to buy him dinner. He accepted, as long as she didn’t mind if he wasn’t the best company. She texted him again.
Cisco and I will cheer you up. Meet you at Paddy’s? Eight PM?
Trevor’s reply was just as lackluster as his first.
Sure. See you then.
Penny itched with curiosity. Whatever was going on with those goons, the arcade machines, and Trevor’s theory, she
wanted to know about it. And, she had to admit to herself, she wanted to get involved.
The adventures she’d had over the past year should have scared her away. A violent poltergeist, a Kraken, a violent, bandaged serial killer. None of it had given her the very sensible idea that Mythers were dangerous.
No. Instead, working at Paddy’s, mingling with Mythers, and hunting the more dangerous entities had simply given her a taste for adventure. And whatever Trevor is up to, there’s an adventure to be had.
Cisco shoved open the door to Paddy’s and stepped back to let Penny in first. She spotted Trevor immediately.
“Just a bite, little one.” A slim, stunning woman leaned over him, holding out a bright, juicy apple. “It’s almost as delicious as you look.”
“N-no, thank you.” Trevor tried to shrink down further in his seat.
“Titania!” Penny snapped. “Third strike. You’re out.” She thrust a finger at the door.
“What?” Titania turned big blue eyes on Penny. “I was simply offering—”
“You know the rules,” Penny told her. “No feeding the humans. One month ban. If it happens again, it’ll be permanent. And you know what that means?”
Titania’s lower lip trembled delicately. Her eyes filled, and a glistening tear rolled down her cheek.
Penny was unmoved. She had seen this display far too many times from the local fae after breaking Paddy’s rules. “One.” She held a finger up.
“I’m sorry, Penny. Please, find it in your—”
“Two.” A second finger joined the first. Penny let her gaze bore into the fae queen.
“Fine.” Titania gathered her skirts in a huff and pranced past Penny and Cisco. “I’ll find somewhere else to buy my mead.”
“You do that,” Penny called after her cheerfully. “See you in a month, Tats.”
Penny strode over to Trevor. “Are you okay, mate?”
He nodded, cheeks flushed bright red and eyes nervously darting to the door. “Was she… Was she going to eat me?” he whispered.
Penny laughed. “Not a chance. Maybe abduct you for a night, but eating humans is forbidden by contract. You know the Fae—never break a promise.”
“Oh.” He sat up a little and gave Cisco a timid wave.
“What exactly happens if a fairy abducts you for a night?” Cisco asked. His eyes were still locked on the door Titania had flounced through.
Penny slapped his chest hard. “You get flayed alive when you get back —by me.”
Wincing, Cisco took a seat. “Duly noted.”
“Penny!” Munder ambled over. “I did see you speak to Titania. But you are not working this night?”
“Not tonight,” Penny told him. “It’s okay, she wouldn’t have hurt Trevor. Maybe taught him a thing or two…” Penny winked, then chuckled when Trevor’s cheeks flamed again. “I need to talk to Josh about getting another bouncer in, though.”
Munder’s top half wobbled in a nod. “Perhaps I might offer to help?”
Penny suppressed a snort. “I don’t think you’d be suited to the job, Munder. You’re way too nice.”
Munder sighed. “Yes. That is a downfall of mine, I am afraid. No matter. I am sure Master Joshua will find a suitable candidate.” He lifted wispy fingers in a tinkling wave, then wobbled his shapeless form back to the bar to ask for another glass of milk.
“He was terrifying.” Trevor’s eyes were wide. “Who is he?”
“The monster under the bed,” Penny told him. “But a nice version.”
“Oh.” Trevor looked around, clearly uncomfortable.
“How about I go get us some drinks.” Cisco tilted his head at Penny, and she mouthed a thank you. “What’ll it be, Trevor?”
“Beer is fine.” Trevor dug for some change, but Cisco waved him away. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Penny working here gets us half-price drinks. Or free, if Paddy is in.” Cisco looked at Penny. “The usual?”
“Not whiskey. Maybe cider?” Penny waited until he had moved away before turning to Trevor. “So. Did you speak to Agent Crenel?”
Trevor slumped. “We had to do the meeting by phone. He said no.”
“He said no?” Penny snapped. “You mean he wants you to wait until he gets back?”
Trevor shook his head morosely. “Nope. He said, and I quote, ‘what the hell does a video game have to do with the Myther threat?’ I tried to explain the history of the myth, but he didn’t seem interested.”
“Ah.” Penny would have bet her life savings that the brisk dismissal was due to a combination of Crenel’s technophobia and Trevor’s overly detailed explanation.
Trevor let out a frustrated hiss. “This isn’t some stupid idea. I know something is going on here, but I can’t look into it without using the Academy resources.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Penny grinned. “You just need to know how to handle him, that’s all. You’ll have to do something for me, though.”
Trevor looked up, doubt etched on his face. “What’s that?”
“You have to tell me everything.”
Crenel slapped a hand on his desk, making all three students jump. “I thought I already told you no?”
Penny guessed he was in a bad mood—it didn’t take a genius for that. She was used to Crenel’s temper, but Trevor looked like he wanted to hide behind the curtains.
She almost regretted dragging Trevor and Cisco along with her. However, business was business. Crenel’s adamant refusal to consider Trevor’s plan only made Penny more determined. And, despite Trevor’s clear discomfort, this was his case.
“That was yesterday. Now you’re gonna tell him yes.” Penny grinned confidently at Trevor, who looked as forlorn as if he’d just been given a prison sentence.
Crenel tsked. “What the hell gives you that idea? I’m not wasting good resources on a goddamn computer game.”
“It’s not a game, Crenel,” Penny told him gently. “It’s an urban legend. You know, one of these things we’re training to investigate? One involving secret government conspiracies and mysterious technology. I know Trevor’s explanation was a bit confusing, but I think—”
“Go find something that’s an actual myth,” Crenel grumbled. “Then we’ll talk.”
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Penny snapped. Her patience was wearing thin. “I know you think technology is out to get you, but this is ridiculous!”
“I never said that!” Crenel denied. “But look around you. What the hell does an arcade game have in common with Greek gods and ancient ghosts? This is too modern. It’s probably some video game company doing one of those infection campaigns.”
“You mean viral,” Trevor corrected. Before the words were even out, he looked like he regretted saying them.
“It’s too modern?” Penny smirked. I’ve got him now. “So, the latest cluster of Mythers based on ‘like for a cure’ stories are what, Mayan legends? And the UFOs that keep appearing in Nevada are from the early 1200s?” Crenel tried to cut her off, but Penny kept going. “What about the ATM that spontaneously started calling the police every time someone used a palindromic PIN? I guess that one originated in ancient Egypt, huh?”
Crenel finally sputtered to a halt. “But he’s not even a field student.”
Penny didn’t miss a beat. “Which is why I’ve agreed to lend my expertise and act as his consultant.”
“You have?” Trevor whispered.
Penny nodded. “So has Cisco. With the two of us involved, how can it go wrong?”
“Are you trying to convince me or turn me off the idea?” Crenel grumbled. He hesitated, and Penny held her breath. “Fine. I’ll send the paperwork over tonight.”
Penny silently fist-pumped the air. She quickly sobered and said in her most professional tone, “Why, thank you, Special Agent Crenel. We will be sure to keep you updated on the progress of our case.”
She left the office quickly, tugging Cisco and Trevor along by their elbows.
Silence reigned
for a moment after she closed the door carefully behind them, then Cisco let out a victory holler. “You did it!”
“I heard that!” Crenel’s holler from the other side of the door sent them tripping down the hall, laughing.
Trevor couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “Thank you, Penny! Thank you so much!”
After high fives were passed around, Trevor slung his messenger bag over one shoulder. He hadn’t ended up needing any of the meticulous notes or thick folders stuffed inside. “I need to go and get started,” he told them excitedly.
Penny grabbed his wrist. “You heard what I said. Cisco and I are your consultants on this case. I don’t want you running into anything dangerous without talking to us first, okay?”
Chagrined, he nodded. “Okay. I promise. I’m not doing this alone, though.”
“Oh?” Trevor hadn’t mentioned working on his project with anyone else. “Who?”
“I, uh, can’t tell you?” Trevor hurriedly shoved his books away and backed toward the door. “My source likes to stay anonymous.”
He scurried away without another word. Penny raised bewildered eyes to Cisco. “An anonymous source? Is he for real?”
“Give him a break,” Cisco insisted. “It’s his first case. He’s got us watching his back. Like you said, what could go wrong?”
Penny mulled over Trevor’s case and his anonymous friend the next morning during Legal and continued thinking about it while she spent the next two sessions cleaning the dorm room she shared with Amelia. Boots lounged on the bed as Penny tossed piles of clothes on top of her, wriggling to the top and pinning items down as Penny attempted to hang them in the tiny closet.
Penny dug a shirt out from beneath the serpent. “Boots, you’re not making this easy, you know.”
Boots simply wriggled into a new, more comfortable position.
Penny grunted in frustration, flicking a pair of pajama pants at the snake. “Seriously, do you want to live in squalor?”
