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The New Improved Sorceress

Page 11

by Sara Hanover


  “That would be quite wonderful.” He waited till her shadow had followed her out of the room before doing his own pointing. At me.

  “I hear you’re backing out.”

  “I’m not.”

  “The professor says . . .”

  “Too much, and he’s not the boss of me. If he doesn’t want to be in on this enterprise, fine. But I promised you a deed, and I intend to keep to that promise.” Our financial situation certainly wasn’t any better, and now I had a car to support. Besides, I had a lead too good to overlook. I filled a dessert plate with cookies and put it next to him. “Things any worse?”

  “Tension is growing. Word is getting out that we no longer have possession of the Eye, and that means the docket of cases we have coming up is subject to postponements, arguments for dismissal, and all manner of problems. It is discouraging, Tessa. We’ve been handling judgments for centuries, and there’s always been some disagreements and appeals, but this is far beyond the norm. It’s as though no one trusts us to do what we know is right and fair without that cursed jewel to tell us. It was naught more than a tool, but no one will abide that. We have a very important matter coming up, and the elves will stomp right through us and Justice if we let them, and they’re insisting we set a date for the trial, regardless.” He stopped with a huff, his hands gripping the end of the chair arms tightly. I could see now just how Morty had worn grooves into it over the years.

  Steptoe listened without comment, but his eyes snapped alertly as he took it in.

  “I don’t know much about elves. Are they normally trouble?”

  “This bunch of them are little more than organized hoodlums.”

  “Elven Mafia? Wow.” I shook my head. “We’ll get it back, and we’ll also prove to them that the Iron Dwarves can be Just without it.”

  His jaw tightened. “From your lips to immortal ears.”

  “Now have a cookie, or my mom will know something’s wrong.”

  He took one and was licking the crumbs off his fingers when she returned. Carter came in on her heels, a harried look on his face, his dark brown hair sticking out as though he’d just run his fingers through it or maybe even pulled it in frustration.

  It apparently took one to know one. Hiram tilted his head. “Bad day? You look madder than a wet hen.”

  “It’s a rule that everyone lies. It gets tiresome.” Carter patted himself down as if looking for something, found it in a hip pocket, and nodded to himself in satisfaction before pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Cookies any good?”

  “Delicious,” Steptoe and I said together. I added, “Help yourself.”

  He did, and everyone looked fairly content by the time my mother bowed out to get refills as the oven dinged. “Third and last batch,” she warned. “On the counter cooling. If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you all to whatever planning you’re going to do. I have work to do and maybe even a little writing tonight.” She waved as she disappeared.

  I looked around the table. “But the professor’s not here. We need to wait.” I tried to remember when I’d seen Brian last and failed, although I did remember when he’d come in last night smelling like his burned-out house or maybe a really bad cigar.

  Hiram put his empty cookie plate on the table and stayed leaning forward, his eyebrows beetled. “I cannot be waiting long. Not tonight or any night because there’s trouble in the halls at home, and it’s not going away until it’s handled. If you can’t help me, best tell me now, so I can find someone who can.”

  “We’re all in, Hiram. I know that’s not a guarantee we can do what has to be done, but we will try our best. Right?”

  Carter had been tapping on his phone and glanced up. “Right.”

  Steptoe managed to mumble, “Too right, lad, too right,” around a cookie or three. I wondered if I should fix him a ham sandwich or something. The man acted as though he never ate until he got here.

  I decided to give Hiram a pinch of hope. “Actually, I have a bit of information. Germanigold has been sighted, and she is in one piece but not as free as she’d like. She might be able to give us an idea what happened to her and maybe the Eye as well.”

  “You’ve talked to her!”

  “Not precisely as it was her projection, but I think I might be able to, in the flesh, soon. She supposedly wants to cooperate.”

  “That would be quite helpful.” Hiram rubbed his brow. “That’s a bit of encouragement.”

  “She wouldn’t be about holding back on you to get even?” Steptoe reached for a napkin and dabbed at the corners of his mouth. He eyed the rest of the cookies on the plate speculatively.

  “Simon, why don’t I fix you a sandwich? I’ve ham and cheese.”

  “That would be delightful, ducks.”

  “One for everyone?” I glanced around the table.

  “If you don’t mind.” The gentlemen all smiled happily back.

  “Not at all.” I fixed a plate of sandwiches, noted for Mom that we needed more bread and ham on the refrigerator shopping list pad, and opened a bag of barbecue potato chips to go with the sandwiches. Scout stayed by me hopefully. I brought the goods back to the dining room where everyone sat up cheerfully and fell to, and I caught Carter sneaking bread crusts to Scout.

  No professor. I looked to Hiram. “When did you talk to Brian, anyway?”

  “Oh, early yesterday. Ran into him when I was, erm, liberating the patio chair. Just a wave, he seemed busy.”

  “No one since? I heard him come in late but nothing after.”

  “Busy,” said Carter around a mouthful of ham, and Steptoe echoed.

  “He can’t be that busy if he wants to stop me from doing something stupid.” I put my hands on the wooden tabletop. “We’re going to have to go look for him. Maybe he got trapped if part of the old house fell in.”

  Carter sighed, reaching for his phone. “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not? If he’s in trouble, he needs us.”

  Carter flashed a picture at us. “He’s not in trouble. He’s in jail.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A HEAPING HELPING

  “JAIL!”

  Carter tried to explain. “I’d hoped to get him out before anybody noticed, but it seems not.” He held his phone, face out, to us.

  We all leaned forward to take in the picture on the phone, a mug shot pose, with Brian looking scuffed up and outraged, with an even angrier professor glaring out of those aquamarine eyes.

  I reacted. “Holy moly. Good thing he doesn’t have his blasting stick.”

  The stick in question rested depleted in his bedroom. He occasionally took it out while we studied, and I could see the clear crystal in the handle which had turned completely obsidian and useless in our last battle progressed, degree by degree, clearing to a charcoal but far from the diamond-like beauty it had been. I found it encouraging that the infamous weapon could be regenerating, but the professor growled every time I suggested it. The last time I saw the cane, he had it resting as a bookmark in the creases of the Remedies book that I’d brought out of his scorched library. Talk about breaking the spine of a book! That nonchalance about one of his tomes made me even more certain he must have returned to his study to ferret out more of his research titles, regardless of the fact the house remained taped off and out of bounds. It hadn’t stopped me, and I knew it wouldn’t slow him.

  “What happened and where?”

  “Early this morning, according to reports, at his place. I found out about it around noon while working another case and have been trying to intervene without being obvious about interfering. It’s not been easy; he has a number of people very upset.”

  “The professor? Never.”

  Carter wrinkled his nose at me and my sarcasm. “He got into a fight early this morning with an arson inspector. Arson has been cleared, but the other fire officials didn’t get by s
o easily. He’s charged with aggravated assault and battery.”

  “Why?”

  “They tried to escort him off the premises and explain that the lot will be bulldozed next week so the insurance agency can begin with rebuilding. They insisted on it being too dangerous to enter, and he insisted on going in to retrieve his items. Acting on public safety, they tried to restrain him. Of course, he doesn’t wish the building knocked down before he’s done with it. I’m told he reacted very aggressively.”

  “Whoa.” I knew Brian could throw a wicked punch if he had to, and the professor had the crusty personality that would provoke it. “Wow. Can we get him out of that?”

  “He assaulted a city worker who was doing his job. It seemed to have been quite a brawl.”

  I huffed and thought for a few seconds. “If the prof was in his own body, we could plead diminished capacity or old man distress and goofiness or something, but not looking like Brian.”

  “Actually, we still can. There is a great deal of stress in being shipped off to a foreign country and relative and then losing nearly everything in a fire.”

  “Oh. Is that what you’re doing?” I watched Carter’s expression.

  “Trying to. There are a few others who’d found out he’s been jailed and would like to block that, at least long enough to sift through the ashes themselves.” Carter wouldn’t quite meet my gaze.

  “Society?”

  Simon grunted softly. “Of course. Who else? I might do it, too, but I’ve chosen a different alignment this time around. So.” He put his hands palms down on either side of his now empty plate. “Looks like we do a bit of looting ourselves.”

  Carter elaborated. “We’re going to have to go in and recover what we can and store it here, until we can find a property easier to ward. We can’t hesitate on this.”

  Hiram scratched his temple. “The basement here would hold. We built in safeguards, just in case, hrmmm, Tessa might need them someday. A so-called safe room.”

  We’d been rejecting Aunt April’s house out of hand for weeks, but this changed everything. “Really? But you didn’t tell me!”

  He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “You don’t strike me as the kind of lass who thinks she needs to be protected.”

  “Well, I don’t, but magic stuff.” I shrugged. “That’s a whole ’nother thing, right?”

  “So it would seem.”

  Simon asked of Hiram, “What did you do?”

  “Trade secrets, Steptoe, but I do suggest you don’t go down there unless you must. You might become very uncomfortable.”

  “Oh.” He looked aggrieved. “That really wasn’t necessary.”

  “Not against you, but you do keep company with odd fellows.”

  Steptoe fell silent, his chin down.

  Scout put his paw on my thigh, and I slipped a bread corner down to him, complete with a sliver of ham. “Back to the house in question. Can we get in now or is the place surrounded by the SWAT team?”

  “We wouldn’t use the SWAT team, but yes, we can get in. I’ll have permission to retrieve what few valuables are left.” He checked the face of his phone. “I should have received notification already.”

  Hiram tapped his fingernails on the arm of his chair, sounding like a miniature hammer at work. “Then we go with or without permission. Our first duty tonight, before we consider how and who to approach over the Eye. Immediate actions outweigh the planned campaign.”

  “Agreed.”

  The men all got to their feet at once, bringing Scout up with them, the pup evidently having some idea that the game was afoot. I stood up much more slowly. “Before we charge out the door, guys, I need to tell Mom we’re going.”

  Simon tugged on the hem of his coat and bowed. “Most certainly, ducks. We’ll be at the curb.” I could hear the English accent in his words.

  Mom sat at her laptop, reading glasses slid down to perch almost at the end of her nose, blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that had fallen to the nape of her neck and then coiled around one shoulder. Looking at her, I caught a momentary glimpse of what she’d looked like maybe twenty years ago and why Dad had thought her pretty. She still was, if older. I wonder if she saw Dad when she looked at me. She held a finger up, pushed the save button, and smiled at me. “Meeting over?”

  “We have to go salvage what we can of the professor’s library. The building is coming down completely soon. Can I use our moving boxes?”

  “Of course.” She flexed a hand. “Is there much left?”

  “Not really. We thought we’d stow it in the basement.”

  “Okay. Then I won’t be alarmed when I hear you all stomping about.”

  I leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’ll try and keep ’em quiet so you can work. Later, gator.”

  She began typing again, and as I left the room, I thought I faintly heard, “After a while . . .”

  * * *

  • • •

  We had three cars to utilize: my little Corolla, Hiram’s SUV, and Carter’s plainclothes sedan. All had fairly good trunk space, but we piled the empty boxes into Hiram’s vehicle, along with two tape guns and two extra rolls of tape. Having just moved, well, a little over two years ago, I had a fairly good idea how to make boxes out of flattened cardboard and all the tape required to do so. It’s an art. Really.

  Scout stayed at home, after a little protest and bribery with doggie treats.

  Steptoe asked to ride with me. As soon as the car doors closed and we sat alone, he said, “All right, ducks. The tell-tales told me you told them you needed to speak with me privately. What is happening?”

  “A little reconnaissance, private, is required.”

  “Oh. You, me, an’ who else?”

  “Evelyn Statler.”

  “That rich gal you and me rescued last spring?”

  “That would be the one.”

  He considered my words. “Who are we spying on?”

  “I’m not totally sure who they are, but it’s the Silverbranch Academy.”

  A pause while he thought. Then, “What about them aren’t you sure of, and what are we looking for?”

  “I think they might be Society, or in league with them at least, because they came out of nowhere and are interested in my academics. Listen, I have good grades and all that, but I’m no blooming genius, yet they’re suggesting I consider transferring. I could lose college credits doing it, and I’ve no good reason to even try.” I held my left hand up. “I think word about the maelstrom stone has spread.”

  “Does them no good if they try to force it from you.”

  I started the car and put it into gear. “I’m hoping they know that. I have no desire to lose a hand over this.”

  “You won’t if me or Carter are with you.” He fastened his seat belt hastily as the warning bell began to sound. “I won’t say you’re right about Silverbranch, but I won’t say you’re wrong, neither. But if you’re worried, why are you going there?”

  “Because I think someone there knows about Germanigold.”

  “Bloody ’ell—she’s that close?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Her nest is in Maryland, not far from DC. I was just beginning to think we’d have to traipse all the way up there again.” He looked pale.

  “You don’t like long trips.”

  He wiped his forehead. “Some of us, not all mind you, but some of us have centers. Centers which keep us close and are not wise to wander too far from.”

  “And where is your center?”

  “Here, in Richmond.” He turned his head to stare out the window, and I sensed he wouldn’t say another word.

  “I was hoping,” and I turned the corner carefully, “that you would tail me and Evelyn the way only you can do, without being seen and all that, while we snoop around.” He’d gone all the way to New York
with us, and I hadn’t noticed him in trouble then, but he’d been rather pale and tired since. Helping pull Evelyn out of trouble could have weighed on him further. How did a lesser demon recharge, anyway?

  “It’s a good thing the professor is in jail.”

  “You think?” He never would have allowed me to go hunting after Goldie. We pulled up in the professor’s darkened driveway as night began to close seriously about us. I checked to make sure I’d gotten the lights switched off.

  “He would have a conniption if he thought you was poking your nose into Society matters like, especially where Goldie is concerned. Now, it’s not that he doesn’t trust her, but he feels a bit guilty about letting Mortimer down and all that, not to mention the Society itself, if they took her, did so as bait.”

  “You don’t think they took her for the Eye?”

  “’Twasn’t known on the streets that she had the Eye till recently, if at all. Which means she likely weren’t taken for that, but now she might be leveraged for it. Tricksy folk will use every advantage they have.” Steptoe unbuckled his seat belt and got ready to bail. “And, luv, you’d better make darn sure you don’t get added to that when we go in to look. You cannot allow yourself to be taken.”

  “You’ll come with us?”

  “I daren’t not, one way or t’other. Come on, now, we’ve work.”

  I made up boxes, a good dozen of them, while the others set up light stands with flashlights and a few other, magical, considerations. Orbs of illumination are not a tremendous amount of help without walls, ceilings, and such to reflect their light upon, but they’re better than nothing. Carter’s police-issue flashlight had the strongest and widest beam, so they set it up in the study itself, and we hauled the boxes into what had once been a hallway where they sat to be loaded.

  Before going into what was left of the room, Carter put up a hand. “Parts of this area are still warded, but it’s an intricate working that I haven’t time to unwind and, frankly, we’re bound to set off a trap or two.” He tapped each of us on the head. “Protection ward. Actually, more of a deflection. The trap will still go off, but hopefully next to you or behind you. So, freeze and then duck if you set anything off.”

 

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