by Susan Harper
Monica and Holly remained back a bit longer, watching Nud as he placed a reassuring hand on Misty’s shoulder and leaned down to speak to her more personally before sending her off with the rest of the onocentaurs. Nud ordered them all to cooperate with the investigators before heading back to their herds. It was then that Monica and Holly decided it was appropriate to approach the councilman. “Is everyone fairing all right?” Monica asked.
“My people are very proud, well, the centaurs are, at least,” Nud said. “They want to fight, so I’m doing my best to keep them all level-headed. Trapper was a good lad who made my people very proud. He was a face we could all rally around.”
“I imagine this is a pretty deep loss for the centaurs,” Holly said.
Nud nodded. “Definitely so.”
“Do you really think Deimus would kill Trapper over a sports rivalry?” Monica asked.
Nud shook his head. “Doubtful. Besides, Deimus was standing on the podium when it fell. How was he to know that only he would be rescued by the safety witches? Someone else is clearly responsible.”
Monica sighed in relief, glad to see the council representative of the centaurs at least believed in Deimus’s innocence. “Is there anything you can tell us about Trapper?” Monica asked. “We don’t know him personally.”
Nud looked around as though making sure none of the centaurs or onocentaurs were within earshot. “Trapper’s father has good blood, you know?”
“Good blood?” Holly asked.
“Means he comes from old centaur families,” Monica said. “A pure-blooded centaur. Are you telling us that his mother was an onocentaur or something?”
Nud shakes his head. “No, I am not. Trapper’s father raised him alone because, well, his mother… She was a witch.”
Monica’s jaw fell open, but she quickly closed it so as not to offend Nud in any way. “And…does everyone…know this?”
“Not at all,” Nud said. “It’s a well-kept secret. Trapper’s mother abandoned him and his father shortly after his birth. I know the boy’s father well, and I am concerned that he will jump to conclusions. He’s always been very paranoid about his son’s lineage. I’m not even sure if Trapper knew himself.”
“He surely takes after his father,” Monica said. “You can usually tell quite clearly when there is a cross between mystics that dramatic.”
“Yes, most certainly,” Nud said. “But it’s true. I’m very worried about how the herds will react when they learn this, and I’m certain they will know that Trapper’s family is about to be thrown into the middle of an investigation.”
“If there is anything we can do to help, please, let us know,” Monica said, and Nud smiled at her.
“Thank you, young lady,” he said. “Now, I must attend to the herds. It is best they hear it from me.” And, just like that, he trotted off.
The following day at the shop, Monica found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Her mind was on the centaur herds in Wysteria and what they must be going through, as well as on Mona and Deimus. Mona had been rather emotional when they had departed late the night before, and Monica felt this urge to act. Plus, she didn’t care for Holly’s down-trodden attitude that morning. Holly was skimming through book after book that she had gotten from Mona’s side of Backroom Books, trying to figure out what could have possibly gone wrong during the ancestry test the Sorcerer’s Council had performed for her.
“I’m telling you, Holly, I don’t think they would have made a mistake,” Abigail said from where she was curled up on the counter. “It’s probably just like they said. You’re a mystic, but it probably goes so far back in your genealogy that the test just couldn’t pick it up.”
“It’s driving me crazy, though. There is this huge part of me that I don’t know about, and I just have to figure it out!” Holly moaned.
“I’m surprised you’re so keen on knowing. You were adopted and never questioned your adopted parents about your birth parents before,” Monica said as she poured herself some coffee.
“That’s different,” Holly said. “Before, I thought I was just human with human parents. I was perfectly happy not knowing because I had a good life and a good home with my mom and dad. If my biological parents gave me up, I just assumed there was a good reason. The agency still hasn’t gotten back in touch with me, either. But, now…it’s like there is this missing puzzle piece that could tell me so much about myself, and I just can’t find it.”
“We’re going to figure it out,” Monica promised Holly. “The ancestry test was the quick way around it. If we have to test you up against every single mystic probability one by one, we will.”
Holly sighed. “Okay. I guess I’ll just have to accept that for now, won’t I?”
The door to the shop opened, and Officer Brian entered, looking tired as ever. When he approached them, he smiled half-asleep and handed Holly a slip of paper with a long list of drinks. “Bringing coffee in for half the station, I see,” Holly said and got to work on preparing coffees.
“That’s nice of you,” Monica said, and Brian nearly growled in response.
“If I had volunteered, it would have been nice. Yesterday morning, Chief had asked me to come in half an hour early. I was exactly twenty-two minutes early. He was standing at my desk with a pocket-watch out timing me. Told him I had stopped for coffee, and he says to me ‘if you can’t prioritize your job, maybe we should just make you our errand boy’ and made me take coffee orders from everyone,” Brian said bitterly. “Eight minutes. He is turning me into his personal mule over eight minutes!”
“Well, we better get these coffees done quickly, then,” Monica said. “Don’t want to give him another reason to single you out.”
“I really can’t stand working for this guy,” Brian said, rubbing his tired eyes. “He’s been the chief for about two years now, and ever since he’s gotten here, he has gotten progressively worse every day. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up. He has gotten even worse since Kevin’s escape. He’s convinced he’s still in Bankstown, and I made the mistake of telling him that I’m sure Kevin has hit the road. We’re already communicating with the surrounding counties trying to find him, but I’m starting to believe he is long gone. I’m sure Chief Tollr’s attitude won’t improve until we catch the guy.”
Monica felt awful. She wanted so desperately to tell the entire police department that they were wasting their time and resources trying to find Kevin, that he had already been tried and convicted by the Sorcerer’s Council, but unfortunately, that was not an option. Once Holly finished all the coffees, Brian thanked her for working so quickly. “I really want to go out again soon,” he told Monica in a dreary but reassuring voice.
Monica smiled and gently placed her hand on his chest. “Me too, but I can tell you are overworked. It’s okay. I understand, and I’m happy to postpone our next date night until things settle down.” She gave him a quick hug, and he headed out the door grumbling to himself the entire way.
Holly huffed. “I’ve heard horror stories about Chief Tollr. But I will say this… He’s really cracked down on crime in Bankstown since he got here a couple of years ago. The man takes his job very seriously.”
“I suppose that’s the good side of it,” Monica said, then turned away from the front door where she had watched Brian leave with a hint of longing in her chest. “I think I need to go check in on my sister.”
“I’ve got the shop,” Holly said. “Don’t worry about me.”
Monica smiled. “Thanks, Holly. Come on, Abs, you’re coming with.”
Abigail sighed and stood upright, stretching on the countertop before hopping down. Monica and Abigail headed through the back door, and after being temporarily blinded by the flash of light, they were stepping out into the Wysteria side of Backroom Books. Mona had her black hair pulled up in a tight yet messy bun, a style Monica had scarcely seen her sister wear. There were bags under her twin’s eyes as she restocked books and chased away the harpies who sn
uck in when a customer had left the door opened too long.
“How are you holding up?” Monica asked.
“Exhausted,” Mona said, coming over and giving her sister a hug and ruffling her blonde hair a bit as she did so. “They have got Deimus on house arrest while they work on the investigation, so now I’m working the shop alone… Well, I’ve got Lenore, but she can only do so much.”
“I’m trying my best, Mona,” Lenore said from above their heads as she flew around chasing harpies.
“I was at the station late last night too, so I’m just exhausted,” Mona said, rubbing her eyes and looking even more tired than Brian. “I feel like I have to be doing something to help.”
Monica placed her hand on Mona’s shoulder. “Well, that’s what I’m here for. I promise, Mona, I’m going to try to find out what happened to Trapper so that we can get everything straightened out with Deimus. Abigail, let’s go. We’ve got work to do.”
5
Monica threw her leg over her broomstick as Abigail hopped up behind her. “Where to first?” Abigail asked.
“I say we go back to the Romp-A-Roo field and see if we can find anything that might give us a clue or send us in the right direction,” Monica said, zipping through the skies and over the bustling town of Wysteria. She noticed as they flew overhead that there was a surprising number of centaurs walking about. Centaurs were not particularly social creatures; they usually remained with their herds in their villages on the outskirts of town. Monica supposed that several of them had probably come out to watch the games and were remaining in town until they found out what happened to Trapper.
“You see all those centaurs?” Abigail asked from the back of the broom.
“I certainly do,” Monica said. They were quite easy to spot from her broom, considering their size and unusual shape. “They look like they’re gathering together.”
“I’m sure they’re gearing up to go home,” Abigail said. “The herd members tend to stick together when traveling, and the colonies are pretty far off if you have got to walk.”
“Yes, I suppose they wouldn’t be able to fly by broom. What about the train?” Monica asked.
“I don’t think they like the trains too much,” Abigail said. “Never been a fan of modern conveniences.”
Monica could see the field rapidly approaching. “Prepare for landing,” she said, zipping them down in a quick spiral. They zoomed toward the visitor’s side where Trapper’s podium had fallen, and already during their descent, Monica could see that the bottom half of the podium was still standing.
“Wait, it broke?” Abigail asked as they came closer. “I thought the whole thing fell.”
“Doesn’t look that way,” Monica said just as they were about to land. It was at this moment that the onocentaur, Misty, stepped out from behind the podium and Monica had to pull up abruptly to avoid a collision. Unfortunately, this sudden change took Abigail by surprise and she went flying off the broom, landing on Misty’s back.
“Eek!” Misty shrieked in surprise.
“Sorry!” Monica exclaimed, landing gently in the grass. “Misty, what are you doing here?”
Misty pointed towards the base of what was remaining of the podium, where a lot of flowers had been placed. “I was adding to the collection,” she said. “Everyone has been putting flowers out for Trapper. We’re all going home soon, but I hadn’t done it yet. I wanted to find roses, and the first shop I went to was out.”
Monica leaned her broom up against the base of the podium, looking up at it curiously. “Has anyone been able to tell you what happened?” Monica asked.
“Not yet,” Misty said sadly. “Only that they are doing an investigation because they don’t believe it was an accident.”
“I’d say so,” Abigail said, hopping off Misty’s back. “That podium was cut!”
Monica grabbed her broom again. The remaining half of the podium stood about nine feet in the air, so she flew up to look at the top. “It’s a really clean cut,” Monica said. “Cut in one swoop. How in the world did someone manage to do that without anyone noticing?”
“Maybe it was done before the game?” Misty suggested.
“You would think it would have fallen over sooner than it did, then,” Abigail said. “I’m sure it must have been done during the game.”
Monica flew her broom back down, hopping off it and looking at Misty. “How long did you say you and Trapper have been dating?”
“About four months,” Misty said. “But we’ve known each other a lot longer than that. I’ve always liked him. I was so happy being with him…” Her voice trailed off, and her expression fell.
“Did he ever talk to you about his mother?” Monica asked.
Misty shook her head. “Said he never knew her and that she left shortly after he was born. I don’t believe he knew very much about her…or at least, what he did know he didn’t like to talk about. His father was very bitter about her leaving as well. I don’t know where she would have gone. There are not a lot of centaur herds around here. And you don’t usually hear about centaurs joining new herds. So, whoever she was, I’m sure she was part of the herd. I imagine it must have been very awkward for her.”
Monica frowned. “She wasn’t part of the herd.”
“Oh,” Misty said, raising a brow. “Do you know who she is?”
“Not exactly,” Monica said. “But she wasn’t a centaur.”
Misty’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. “Trapper… His mother was an onocentaur? No wonder he was so open to being with someone like me…”
“Good guess, but no,” Abigail said in her usually sarcastic tone. “His mother was a witch.”
Misty kicked her hooves out slightly, bringing her hands up to her cheeks as though the thought had made her flush. “Witch?” she asked.
“That’s right,” Abigail said, and Monica gave Abigail a slight nudge with her foot.
“Abigail, I don’t believe Nud wanted us telling everyone that,” Monica scolded, and Abigail simply shrugged.
“He was a warlock!” Misty exclaimed. “He did not have any magic, I don’t believe.”
“Well, he certainly took after his father,” Abigail said.
Misty looked almost sick. She nervously tugged on her long braids for a moment. “I was always so amazed that a centaur as wonderful as Trapper would want to be with me. I’m just an onocentaur. Now, knowing he was part-warlock…the fact that he was still interested in me…”
“You’re really selling yourself short, Misty,” Monica said. “You’re so sweet and kind. Just because you’re an onocentaur doesn’t mean he was stepping down by dating you or anything.”
Misty looked at Monica curiously. “You don’t know much about centaur culture, do you?”
“I suppose it’s not exactly a specialty of mine,” Monica said.
“There is a very clear social ladder,” Misty said. “Times have been changing lately, and I’m glad for it…but, honestly, it’s just been so engrained in us that it’s hard to let go. Onocentaurs, especially farmers like myself, are pretty much at the bottom. The only thing below us would be onocentaurs with birth defects.”
“Eli,” Monica said, recalling a young onocentaur she had met with donkey ears on top of his head.
“Onocentaurs consider it a bad omen,” Misty said, her cheeks turning red. “Centaurs will take them in as servants.”
“No,” Monica said. “From what I saw, they adopted the ones your herd abandoned.”
Misty nodded. “I suppose that’s truer now…but that’s not what I’m trying to explain. I just mean that there is a social ladder, and I’m so near the bottom. Centaurs with good breeding like Trapper’s father are high up on the ladder. And, truthfully, even centaurs consider humanoid creatures better than themselves.”
Monica frowned. “I suppose the wizarding community had a lot to do with that perspective.”
“Onocentaurs are considered less human compared to centaurs, and that’s why we are us
ually lower in terms of our social standing,” Misty explained. “That’s why… That’s why hearing that Trapper was part-warlock is so surprising to me. If he knew what he was, why would he want anything to do with me?”
“Misty, things are very different now,” Abigail said from where she sat in the grass, her sarcasm completely gone from her voice.
“Yes, I agree,” Misty said, still playing nervously with her long braids. “But that doesn’t change the fact that some centaurs and onocentaurs still think that way.”
“You’re growing up in a time of social change for your people,” Monica said with a smile. “And it’s a good thing, Misty. The fact that Trapper was part-warlock and part-centaur doesn’t make him better than you. That’s no way to think.”
Misty stopped playing with her hair and smiled at Monica. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Monica. You are too kind.” She looked up towards the sky, taking note of the sun’s position. “I must go meet up with the travelers. We are all heading back to our herds today.”
“I hope you will come out to Wysteria again soon,” Monica said. “I would like to get to know you better, Misty.”
Misty smiled. “I would love to.”
“I’ll show you around the Cookey Cauldron. It’s one of my favorite places to eat,” Monica said.
Misty grinned. “That does sound lovely. For now, though, I must return to my herd.” She turned and trotted off, heading back into town in the direction Monica and Abigail had witnessed the centaurs and onocentaurs gathering earlier.
Monica took a moment to walk around the broken half of the platform. She could still see markings in the grass where the top half of the platform had fallen. There was a spot in the middle of the bent grass where the grass had been pulled up and mud revealed itself. The spot made Monica cringe when she realized that this was where Trapper had been standing when the top half of the platform collapsed on him. She thought about Deimus and how close he had come to being crushed himself had the safety witch who saved him chosen to do the trampoline spell rather than the bubble to keep him out of harm’s way.
