by Candra Kylar
I slipped into my bedroom and looked over my shoulder to make sure Cecilia stayed in the doorway. There weren’t enough enchantments to keep her out and a restraining order would mean nothing to her calibre of persistence. Underneath my bed, I pulled out a charmed wooden storage box etched with runes to protect it. Inside was the spare gold I could put away for a rainy day. Bribing Cecilia to give me a talking animal with clues was a good enough reason to use it. I counted out the gold, painfully, and went into the living room to pay Cecilia. She had her purse open so I could unceremoniously dump the pile in. Physical gold coins were impractical but, unlike digital transfers, it couldn’t be tracked.
“Thank you for your patronage”, she closed her purse and handed me the carrier, “the fox is all yours. Hide your liquor if you value it.”
“If this is a false lead…”
“You’ll track me down and push me in front of a car”, she finished for me, “you’ve used that threat before and I believe you at this point. Enjoy your lead and good luck with the gnome. It would be such a shame if she was never heard from again.”
“You’re just bitter about the ribs she bruised from that body stomping”, I said.
She grimaced from the memory, “Goodbye, Abbie. Do yourself a favor and find a nice nursing home to commit your mother to. Less of an expense and parents are useless anyway.”
That was Cecilia in true form. She would exit with a scathing remark and refrain from sticking around for the fallout of it. A wave of her hand made the animal carrier in my hands start to shake, and suddenly a deep string of profanities were released from inside. The voice was surprisingly deep with a tinge of an accent I couldn’t quite place. After his third round of cursing Cecilia, I picked up on where I had heard it: the more remote country areas of south Iverli. His little dark paws bashed at the wire door to the carrier and the plastic walls refrained me from seeing any more. There was a good chance he would attack me so I went to get my wand before opening the carrier.
To my surprise, a fox with deep onyx fur stretched his way outside of the carrier. He couldn’t be larger than a small lap dog and was adorable at first sight. Golden brown eyes looked me over and then went to peer over the apartment as a whole. He settled on the kitchen which was where my only bottle of Bottom Run’s bourbon sat on the kitchen counter. I wasn’t much of a drinker but this new addition to the apartment was if Cecilia could be trusted. Normally, she could never be trusted. The fox pawed his way onto the couch and settled in with another stretch. His tail swayed slowly back and forth. At least he wasn’t agitated.
“S’bout time I could talk”, he said with that tinge, “real sick of lady casters ruinin’ my life with their backhanded magic tricks.”
“Cecilia put a silencer on you so you couldn’t scream for help or give away information for free”, I surmised aloud.
My mother got up from her seat and cringed, “Wild animals shouldn’t be on the furniture.”
“They also shouldn’t talk, lady, but here I am. Do me a solid and pour me a bowl of that bourbon on the counter over there. Make yerself a useful hostess”, he smiled, showing sharp little teeth.
“I will not serve some magical monstrosity. I’m sleeping in your bed tonight, Abbie, until this thing is taken care of”, my mother said without waiting for my reply.
“So I take it I’m not getting drunk tonight? Yee friggin’ haw”, the fox said.
I sat next to him on the couch, brandishing my wand, “Any funny moves and I’ll make you a statue.”
“I’ve had enough of witches and I reckon I’m done with their lessons”, he assured me.
“What’s your name? Do you have one or do you just go by fox?”
He thought it over, “Folks in the circus called me Tip. Short for Tippler which is a jab at being a drunk. It kinda stuck so I’m fixin’ to keep it.”
“You came from a circus?”
“Where the hell else did ya think I would run into your feisty lil’ friend? That’s where Voldini took her so she could be one of his attractions”, the fox told me.
“Who’s Voldini?”, I asked, leaning in.
The fox brightened, “Lady, have I got a story to tell you.”
Four
Once upon a time, there lived a pretentious caster named Vander Voldini who wanted more than life had given him. He was raised in relative squalor and the son of two very selfish people who had hoped they could have a daughter to marry into money. That was what motivated the Voldini family who had once lived in the poor town of Eastling in, you guessed it, east Iverli. There wasn’t much there now besides for a mall that was slowly dying thanks to the internet and one of the two Voldini parents. The junior had moved to Azuris and learned how to use his magic to con others. Eventually, he found a way with words and convinced investors to help fund a circus that would highlight the alleged “freaks” of society. These poor individuals, some not having entered all too willingly, would be on a display for those who were wealthy and had no sense of decency.
The small fox with the twang to his voice filled me in easily without much questioning on my end. He was all too happy to betray his former master and describe life in the circus. His only fee, I found, came with a simple deal: he needed a roof over his head and an ample supply of alcohol. I was good with the roof and the food supply. After all, lots of witches had familiars and none of them could speak as far as I knew. The booze would be another story. I couldn’t afford the kind of top shelf whisky he wanted so he would have to settle for the Bottom Run’s basic line of bourbon and intermittent beer. Some foxes had to crap in the woods and build homes out of snowbanks, so this little critter was lucky.
He told me about his life in the circus and I tried to keep a poker face during it. Reacting might make him upset and I was already hearing the wails of my mother from my bedroom. I couldn’t imagine what it was like essentially being enslaved to someone who used their magic for twisted displays of bravado. Vander Voldini was a grade-A scumbag and he didn’t try to hide the fact. His cast of characters had food and small amounts of gold, free healthcare, but could never leave. Tippler here had to sing songs and tell jokes for spare gold, carrying a cowboy hat in his teeth to collect the offerings at the very start of the show. He clearly hated it but missed the hat.
“Always wore one when I was a human before my lower half started to do the thinkin’”, he remembered as he slurped away at the bowl of bourbon, “rule a thumb to never have sex with a witch. They’ll get mad and ruin you.”
“I’m a witch and I’ve never turned anyone into an animal out of spite. Technically, the Council forbids that and it comes with a hefty sentence. I’m surprised yours got away so easily with the crime”, I said.
He went back to the booze, “Well they were part of the same coven and I went from sister to sister in one week. Mighta promised them marriage if they went out and started a ranch with me. Turns out all three didn’t fancy the idea of sharin’ me as a husband.”
I placed my hand on my chest, pure sarcasm escaping me, “To think they wouldn’t take you up on such a noble offer!”
“Their loss. Ol’ Tip was a good lay in his human form and now does parlor tricks for a circus to pass the time. Was gonna find a way to turn back into a human then thought, well hell, I get a pretty witch to make me her familiar and I’ll be pampered for life. Who needs to be a human and work for a livin’?”, he chuckled.
“So that’s why you escaped the circus and came looking for me to reveal what happened to Dimples. A bartering tool. Effective and I do need a familiar”, I replied.
He squinted his little eyes, “That’s why I actually went looking for Cecilia. Saw that pretty lil’ dame on TV and thought she was crazy as hell. I like the crazy ones, being her familiar would be fun. She considered it for a bit until the booze got the best of my tongue and I wagged on about that garden gnome.”
“Oh”, I tried not to be wounded, “well serves you right for trying to align yourself with her. She only betrays peo
ple. It’s her personal hobby.”
“She’s also a high priced hooker which is a hard pass for me. I’m a gentleman, you know, raised real proper”, he sniffed.
“And here you are downing booze like water and offering me a second-hand bribe to help me find my friend? Really sweet of you”, I took the bowl away.
He dipped his paw in to scoop up the remainder, “A fox needs his vices and my cowboy spirit’ll never die. I’ll tell ya about yer friend because yer pretty enough and this apartment’ll do. Hope you aren’t as borin’ as you look on TV. Real snooze fest talkin’ about yer investigatin’. What was it? Gay kid gets used by this old vamp posing as a teen to get some ink? Stupid. Kid should never trust a vamp.”
“No racism in this house”, I commanded.
“We had a vamp in the circus once and he drained one of our acrobats. She was a sweet thing and always let me lick honey off her pretty lil’ finger”, he sighed.
“Let’s get back to Dimples. Tell me how this Voldini is trapping her at the circus so she can’t leave. She has a lot of magical power herself and I’d bet she could handle him.”
He caught on, “Yeah, she uses some of her magic in the act. Light shows really and I can tell she holds back. Has that bindin’ stone stuck to the top of her hat, same as we all had on us somewhere, so it’ll bust her up good if she escapes.”
“Then how did you get out?”
“A pretty little Seer learned the undoing ritual to remove mine from a hind leg”, he said proudly, “told her ‘bout my dreams and she was shaken by it. Can’t leave herself and we’d been friends for a bit. Each stone has its own undoin’ hitch, you know, and only Voldini knows it.”
“So how did this Seer get yours?”
“Once in a while, Voldini does somethin’ stupid and lets it slip. He was annoyed with how mouthy I got when he switched out my prime whisky for watered down trash water”, he answered, “so he joked about doing the spell himself, lettin’ me get a fake out of freedom, then killin’ me himself. Real piece, that guy.”
“So I’ll have to find a way to distract him and get the undoing spell for Dimples to be set free. I have a few friends who could help me. Guess there’s no way I can do this case alone”, I said.
“You know, yer a lot prettier in person. Camera’s really wash you out. Guess I’ll like bein’ yer familiar after all”, he buttered me up.
“You will sleep in a doggie bed when I buy one. No vomiting all over my carpet, it’s new, and be polite when I have company over”, I listed off the rules.
“Do you ever go round in a bikini when castin’ yer spells?”, he asked curiously, “Keep the bathroom door open when ya bathe?”
“Not in your wildest dreams, you furry pig.”
“Fix me up some chow if you get a chance”, he ordered lazily.
“You’ll eat on the road as I drive”, I scooped him up and headed to the fridge, “pick something quick. We have to go see my friend Braeden.”
“The mean as a rattlesnake werewolf on the TV? One who cursed out all them words and made a reporter cry when she got personal?”, he pawed at some veggies.
“He’ll grow on you.”
“Well, hell, he already did. Gent looks cool”, Tip barked.
Cool? Braeden? It felt like my life was turning all sorts of ways. A talking fox was in my arms, promised me a path to Dimples that could save her from this circus, and I was ahead of the game. Surely the circus would have a tour list online and I could find their next stop. People had to buy tickets, had to reserve seats weeks in advance, and I would just be like any other customer wanting to see the spectacle. I could slip right in under Voldini’s nose, get the undoing spell, and save Dimples. The familiar being carried by me offered the lead that had evaded me for so long. With some generous gold on my end, Cecilia tossed me a lifeline. Things were in a vortex all their own.
In werewolf territory – on what felt like the longest night of the year – I clung tightly to Tip as I pulled up to the Stedwell house. Braeden and Liam were outside on the front porch screaming at each other. I could only imagine the neighbor’s delight at two abrasively strong personalities going at it like that with no respect for the time. Cyril was nowhere in sight and Ethan’s bedroom light was on upstairs. He would presumably be packing to probably end up at my apartment. Yipee. Fox in my arms, I walked up the steps as if werewolves screaming were just a common side effect of being part of the community. They didn’t initially take notice so I cleared my throat.
Liam looked down at the fox and Braeden looked at me in a fluster. Both were equally surprised. I wanted to have a great line to deliver that would make the moment even more awkward, but I thought of the neighbors and the reputation of the good Stedwell pack of Crestwood region. They didn’t need any more kindling for that fire. Liam went inside, anger temporarily satiated, and Braeden stayed behind to converse with me. Good call. Let the adults talk out the next step in the plan to save Dimples from a creepy circus of enslaved outcasts. I handed Braeden the fox, which he took without question.
“Give him a physical to make sure he isn’t bringing rabies into my home”, I requested, “he’ll swoon since you’re allegedly super cool.”
“Still mad at me for making an ass of myself at dinner?”, he asked me.
The fox barked, “You better not stick a thermometer up my -”
“Holy shit! He can talk!”, Braeden nearly dropped him in surprise.
“And he knows who took Dimples and where we can find her”, I filled in, “so let’s get inside so you can give my new familiar the once over. I wouldn’t put it past Cecilia to plant a mini mic on him to eavesdrop.”
“She doesn’t think you’re interesting enough for that”, Tip remarked.
“Definitely give him the thermometer”, I said after such a quip.
Braeden lifted him up to eye level, “Were you always a fox?”
“Dimples. Eye on the prize. Keep moving”, I shooed them both into the house.
I knew there would be no sleep for me tonight. Not when I could go online, check the tour date of Voldini’s circus and book ourselves a trip there. Not when I had to recharge my wand with a special influx of offensive spells and formulate a plan. There was too much to do and not enough coffee in the world. First thing’s first, however: I had to make sure Braeden would help me. One werewolf on the job would be helpful but two would cause a distraction. I needed a way to get to Dimples without Voldini breathing down my neck. Something told me that he was definitely a mouth breather.
Upstairs, Liam and Ethan were arguing about something and their voices were muffled. Cyril was nowhere in sight and I could only guess he was visiting Frankie. Even with her online tryst, there was still a flirtation there. A reserved flirtation. Someone had to be having sex and it might as well be the elderly. I watched Braeden examine Tip over, the small fox nervously shaking, evidence that the circus hadn’t been kind to him. I noted that I would have to be careful how I admonished him or raised my voice. Some trauma ran deep and all of that humor just hid something darker. Tip used to be human, after all, and had his own story to one day tell me.
“So Dimples is in...a circus? She was kidnapped? Losing her touch”, Braeden commented.
I crossed my arms, “She could’ve been tricked into having her guard down. Voldini is a classic con man who has a way with words.”
“We invade the circus, kick his ass, and take Dimples home? I can handle that if you wanna look pretty for the cameras”, he smirked.
“I know you’d love to beat the ringleader into the ground but we have to be careful. He’s privately funded and we don’t know how deep the connections go. Tip here has a friend on the inside who helped him escape. Maybe she’ll help us with Dimples.”
“Rynna?”, Tip snorted from his tiny black nose, “please. She only had a soft spot fer me ‘cause I spent years makin’ her laugh. We had a bond. She doesn’t like to chat it up and is always skittish ‘round strangers.”
“Tell me m
ore about this Rynna”, I said softly, sitting down at the dining room table.
Tip circled, sniffing around, “She’s a Seer. I reckon the only of her kind if Voldini’s bull has any clout. A real prickly past that’ll catch her some major trouble if the wrong people hear about it. Been livin’ at the circus since she was just a preteen and Voldini had all his natural hair. When I met her, she was still developin’ her act.”
“You must have been at the circus a long time”, Braeden said.
Tip didn’t look up, “I lost count. Reckon I age ‘bout the same span as humans. Part of the curse and all that.”
I prodded gently, “I’ve read about Seers but were told that they were long dead. How can you be sure her talent is authentic and she isn’t just being lied to by Voldini? He’s a master charlatan by the sounds of it.”
“Ya didn’t see the things she could do. The worlds she could see into and make come to life, real as rain, right in front of the eyes”, Tip said in amazement.
“She sounds like a special friend to you”, I said.
He refrained from replying. I could feel the hurt dripping in his words as he recounted one of his closest allies at the circus. He had been there for years, Rynna had been there since childhood, and both were most likely there because they had nowhere else to go. A talking fox was still an anomaly in the magical world. With all of the Elder Fae legends, talking animals were not part of the aftermath. Forcing a shape change onto a human was even deeper magic, darker magic, and not even my father knew how to do that. There was more to his story but I had enough tact not to press it. I didn’t want him to go back to that world where he had no hope and saw a witch on television as his only way out.
Braeden huffed, “We need a plan. That’s your department, Abbie. I’m just the muscle in this situation.”
“I’m buying tickets for the show in the morning so we can covertly check it out”, I explained, “and hopefully we’ll catch Dimples’ attention while we’re there. If only we had the funds or the right reputation to….that’s it!”
