The New Improved Sorceress

by Sara Hanover

  I’d appeal to that goodness when I saw him, hoping it would be soon. I admit to crushing on him, despite our age difference, but he’d never led me to believe he’d noticed it or would take advantage of it. In another year or so, that gap wouldn’t be so noticeable and I’d throw myself at him and hope he would catch me. Evelyn was of the opinion that I shouldn’t wait, and she might be right, but I’d had enough of guys who would offer me a pity date and then ask for benefits that were never implied or offered! I would bide my time with Carter.

  So if I could depend on Carter and Steptoe, and I didn’t even have to ask Simon because he generally went where the rest of us did, that made four of us for the investigation, three with considerable magic weight. Add in my maelstrom shield and awesome bracers, and we should be able to get the job done. Probably.

  * * *

  • • •

  “Are you kidding me?” Carter asked, one hand full of carry-out coffee cup and the other with a card in an envelope, as I met him in the front yard, the sun slanting low over the roofs. “You’re putting together a team? A team for what?”

  “It’s my job to ask the questions. Are you in or are you out?”

  “With this group? I don’t join until I know what’s going on. So.” He fell in step with me. “What’s going on?”

  “I got a job offer, and it’s a really good one, and if I complete it successfully, I’ll earn enough money that Mom can take time off and finish her dissertation, so it’s important and I need your help.”

  “What kind of job takes a team, especially one like ours?”

  “It’s a recovery. For Hiram.”

  “For—oh, no. You are not going after the Eye of Nimora.”

  “You know it’s missing?”

  “I do. In fact, it was the subject of the Society’s meeting last night. What surprises me is that you know.” He sipped. “I take that back. Obviously, Hiram told you. What pisses me off is that he asked you to recover it.”

  “Oh, not recover. Just find.”

  “Usually retrieval is involved in a case like this.”

  I looked up at him speculatively. “That sounds as if it might make the whole job thing a bit more difficult.”

  “Try impossible, and over my dead body.”

  “But I’m counting on you! I’ve already got the professor and Steptoe.”

  “Then they’re both in it for themselves, not you. Forgive me, Tessa, but neither of those two men is the charitable sort. I know you think well of them, but they have a background that stretches for centuries, and not an altruistic one. The professor probably thinks he can apply it to his current restoration problem, and Steptoe undoubtedly thinks he can make a profit on it after he uses it to blackmail a few select associates.”

  “Cynic.”

  “Realist. Which you need to develop if you’re going to dabble in my world.” He swirled his coffee before taking another hit.

  “I don’t dabble, and I can’t help it if the stone dragged me in.”

  “Oh, you were in up to your neck before that thing implanted itself in your hand. Look at the company you keep!”

  I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Does that mean you’re not going to help? If you’re the only one I can trust?”

  “Any cake left?”

  “Maybe a piece or two.”

  “Good. I haven’t had anything but coffee all day and I need to think straight. Oh, and your birthday present is in my car.” He handed me the envelope and his car keys.

  “Oooh! What is it?”

  “It’s something which may or may not become yours.”

  I blinked. “Then how is it my birthday present?”

  “Well, it’s conditional. Go introduce yourself and we’ll see how you get along.”

  “How I . . .” I shut up and marched myself to his car. There, sitting on the front seat, was a creamy yellow pup. Labrador, if I knew my dogs, and he wasn’t a small puppy, but a medium one, maybe already about four months old.

  “A dog! You got me a dog!”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “You talked to Mom about it?”

  “I did, and she said yes, provided you take care of it.”

  The universal answer for all mothers. Our last dog had disappeared with my father, and I missed him dreadfully, but we’d made a pact not to get another dog, circumstances as they were. However, if she’d said “yes” to Carter, all bets were off.

  I opened the car door and the pup swung around to look me steadily in the eyes. Not many dogs do that for long, as if they’re born to look away, but this guy didn’t.

  “So what’s the story?”

  “He’s a police recruit who didn’t work out.”

  “Awwww. Sniffer no good?”

  “No, he’s great at scents. It’s more his attitude.”

  The dog and I watched each other. “Attitude? He’s not a coward, is he? Doesn’t look like he could be.”

  “Well, he didn’t get good grades in aggression, but that’s not exactly it, either.”

  Those big Labrador eyes gazed soulfully into mine as if waiting for me to say exactly the right thing. “He looks perfect to me.”

  The dog sniffed once or twice, scenting me. For a Lab, though, he seemed terribly restrained. They were bounders, until trained and disciplined. Enthusiastic and playful. Energetic. This guy sat on the car seat like he was hatching eggs.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Scout. If the two of you don’t work out, I have a rescue that will take him until he finds a situation.” Carter stood behind me, waiting.

  “Why wouldn’t we work out?”

  “Long story, we don’t know why he hasn’t bonded with anyone. It’s as though he’s waiting for something or someone to come along, and then he’ll give his heart. Doesn’t matter what sex; we’ve had all sorts of trainers and officers work with him, and he’s stayed aloof.”

  “Oh, that can’t be right. Look at his eyes. Who’s a good dog? You, that’s who. You don’t have to wonder if you’ll ever find out. You’re a good boy, Scout.”

  The dog whined slightly and moved from the passenger seat to the driver seat. I put my hand on his head and rubbed one of his ear flaps. Scout wriggled and put his nose into my maelstrom hand. He gave a chuff as if he smelled something not quite right.

  “I know,” I told him. “That’s a little off, but I think it’s temporary. At least I hope it is, and the rest of me is pretty normal.”

  He surged forward suddenly, butting his head into my chest and leaning into me, making small puppy noises as if very happy to have been found after having been left alone all day.

  “And there it is,” Carter said.

  And so it was.

  CHAPTER SIX

  PEE MAIL

  SCOUT LEAPED OUT of the car when I gave him the okay signal, hit the ground running, and didn’t stop for ten minutes, overcome with true puppy joy. I grinned and Carter laughed to watch the tornado circling the yard, sailing over the back fence, soaring in return, and then racing up and down the city block itself. When he came back and sat down on my feet— not next to them, but on them—his tongue lolled out, and he gave a big, doggy grin up at me. I had to reach down to massage the top of his head.

  “He’ll grow up to you,” Carter said.

  “And the department said okay?”

  “Absolutely. I wouldn’t have brought him for an introduction otherwise. It wouldn’t have been fair to anyone.” Carter bent over and massaged an ear as well, while Scout nuzzled him. As he wiped his hand off on his pants, he gestured toward the house. “Might as well take him in.”

  Scout led the way, his sleek tail curved like a scimitar and waving happily, as he trotted in front of us. Carter told me that he had a Labrador-sized crate in the back seat of his car, along with sleeping pad, a forty-pound b
ag of kibble in the trunk, and stainless-steel dishes. Also a harness and leash and collar. I hadn’t noticed any of that, my eyes full of puppy.

  I realized that Scout wore nothing on him now. “Why no collar?”

  A pause before Carter answered, “He’s not too fond of them.”

  Interesting.

  The door opened before we got there, and my mother appeared to Scout’s delight as he jumped up and down in front of her and then sat, squirming a bit, as if presenting himself for approval.

  “You brought him.”

  “And he seems to fit right in.”

  “Good. It’ll be nice to have a dog about again.” She bent over to scratch that sweet spot on his chest that dog lovers know about, and he moaned a little in appreciation before she stepped out of the doorway to let him inside. “I have long lunch hours this semester, so I can come home and let him run about. No need to crate him all day.”

  “Nice to know. I’ll go get his things.”

  Mom pointed at me. “Go open the garage door. For now, we’ll store them in there. I think there will be room in the mudroom for his crate, but we may have to rearrange a few piles of boots and junk first.”

  I came back in to find Scout sitting warily at the threshold of the kitchen, eying Steptoe and Brian, with them trading a hard look right back at him.

  I patted Scout on the back of the head. “That’s Simon Steptoe,” and I pointed. “Chaotic neutral. He used to be chaotic evil, but he’s trying to redeem himself these last few centuries. Sitting there is Brian Brandard, lawful chaotic. He’s two men in one, but they’re both pretty straight arrow. You already know Carter. He’s lawful good, and I’m the daughter, and Mary there is daughter’s mom and professor and doctoral student. The only one not here is Hiram, an Iron Dwarf, and since his clan is made up of judges, I’d say he’s probably lawful neutral. That should do it? No, wait. My dad is a ghost who lives in the basement, but we hope that’s temporary. I have no idea how to classify him.”

  Steptoe sat back, looking as though he was biting the inside of his cheek, and Brian blustered about in his chair, his own face flushed, while Carter made a noise into his hand that sounded like a choked laugh.

  “Am I right?” I looked about the room.

  Steptoe cleared his throat. “More right than not.” He put his hand out. “Here, laddie, give me a sniff so you know me.”

  Ears back a little, Scout approached him, snuffling up his hand to his elbowed sleeve and back again. The pup then rolled an eye at Brian and shoved a nose into his kneecap, before heading to the stove and lying down in front of it, tail thumping tentatively.

  Mom handed out the last piece of cake to Carter, and we all sat about and told her a little bit about Hiram’s request. She seemed to sense she wasn’t getting the full version. She checked her watch before telling me, “I’ve got papers to grade and my syllabus to update, so why don’t you tell me what you’re not telling me. Let’s unpack this little situation first before I have to disappear. I want the rest of the details, the stuff you’re avoiding telling me.”

  I tried not to wince. She has these steely blue eyes that see through me. “It could be dangerous. I’m not sure, which is why I’m taking a posse with me.” Her eyes reminded me of something, nagging at the back of my brain, but I couldn’t pin it down, so I shoved it aside and watched my mother’s expression.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  I held my left hand up. “But I’ve got the stone now, and I’m pretty good with a shield, and these guys can take care of themselves. Most of the time.”

  “So you’re tracking down something that’s lost for Hiram. What exactly did he lose? What is the Eye of Nimora?”

  “A ruby the size of a goose egg.”

  Her tone went up despite her projected calm. “What?”

  “So, we have the supernatural element as well as everyday human greed possibly involved.” I shrugged a little.

  “There’s something supernatural about the red egg?”

  “Supposedly.”

  “No supposing about it,” Steptoe objected. “The thing’s a bloody oracle. Ow!” and he stopped talking long enough to glare at Brian, who’d evidently kicked him under the table. He folded his hands on the tabletop, stuck his lips together, and looked unhappy. His bowler hat sat a little askew.

  Mom hadn’t needed the hint anyway. “Annnd . . . others will be after it, too.”

  “Could be. It’s not widely known that the thing is missing, though. We have a head start, so that should help.”

  She assessed each of us, one at a time. “Of course, all of you know that if anything happens to Tessa, I will do more than hold you personally responsible. I will pull out all your teeth and then make you even sorrier you still exist. There is no force in heaven or earth greater than a protective and angry mother.” She looked like she meant it.

  “No, no, no,” everyone said. “We’ll take care of Tessa,” or words to that effect, putting their hands up in the air. When things calmed down to a dull roar, we discussed our game plan a bit, which was to say, we really didn’t have one except that I intended to find out the beginning of the trail.

  Also, we talked about moving the professor’s library from the remains of his burned-out home to a more secure location. Steptoe offered one but got turned down before he even finished his sentence. Carter mentioned vaults that the Society held for such emergencies and also got rejected, although he did get to end what he said before everyone else said: “No!” I proposed the basement and got another end-all glare from my mother. Brian merely shook his head to that, saying, “Not unless I have no other choice.”

  “I do have, my dears, a low impact alarm system set up ’ere in the ’ouse. If that makes a difference.”

  “Low impact?”

  “I think,” Brian said, “he means the tell-tales.”

  “You spotted them, did you?” Simon gave a half grin.

  “It would have been hard not to. Interactive roses are most uncommon.”

  “True, but I thought it might ’elp us all keep a watchful eye on our Tessa.”

  I sat up straighter in my chair. “Hey!”

  Brian shrugged. “Not to mention that said alarm is in extreme fatigue already, trying to keep up with the pup’s activities.”

  How the professor knew that without having gone upstairs to take a look, I had no idea, but I got this mental image of my vase of “roses” wilting everywhere.

  Steptoe sniffed. “Not my fault. Someone has to take the creature up and introduce it.”

  “Or remove the tell-tales.”

  “I like them,” I put in edgewise.

  “See?” Steptoe looked around the table in triumph.

  I knotted my eyebrows at him. “Although you could have warned me what they were and where to set them up in the house.”

  “I thought you’d figure them out soonest, ducks. You’ve always been a quick study.”

  I couldn’t think of a rejoinder and decided just to shut my mouth. I did as suggested, taking Scout upstairs and letting the tell-tales and dog sniff at each other before coming back to the kitchen to a group that looked a little guilty as if they’d been talking behind my back.

  The group disbanded shortly after that, and my mom disappeared into her office. Carter stood and dusted his hands off.

  “Need some help with the mudroom?”

  “Sure.”

  Carter followed me out. We propped open the back door, and I opened up the garage as he went to unload his car. He toted the forty-pound bag of kibble over his shoulder and let it drop in the corner. I didn’t recognize the brand. I tapped the colorful paper. “Where’d this come from?”

  “This stuff is locally made by a small-time guy. It’s his own formula. No grains but rice, lots of meats, and fresh veggies, mixed up and baked into a kibble. It’s a little more expensive but
worth it to keep the dog healthier, and I think it helps with the cancer.”

  My heart did a panicky thing. “He’s got cancer? How could you not tell me that before?”

  “No, no. But we don’t want him getting it, and that’s a tough new thing with some breeds now. So when you need a refill, give me a call and I’ll bring in another bag for you.”

  My eyes speed read the ingredients. “Bison I can see, but alligator?”

  “Surprise, huh? The dogs seem to like it. I rarely see dishes that aren’t licked clean.”

  “I wonder if it tastes like chicken.”

  “We should find out someday but not by tasting his kibble. In the meantime, you need to get a heavy-duty bin with lockable lid to store this in, or the varmints will eat it all. They’ll find a way to get in the garage if they can. This stuff is like candy to them.”

  “Good for them, though.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not paying to feed raccoons and possums.” Carter threw me a smile as he ushered me out of the garage and closed the massive door after us. The old wooden building protested and yowled a bit at the joints as he did, and he knocked on one of the support beams. He checked the side door and made sure it fit well into its frame and could be locked if needed. “These old places.”

  “I don’t know which is older—the house or Aunt April.”

  “She’s that old?”

  “Can’t tell under that immaculate hair, can you? And she doesn’t walk bent over or use a cane, but I can outrun her, so she does show her age a little.”

  That made Carter snort. We stood in the threshold of the mudroom. “This place is a mess.”

  “Don’t hold back. We Andrews can take it.”

  “How did you let it get to this? I thought this area was all cleaned out when Hiram fell through.”