Cauldrons and Kittens

by R K Dreaming

  “Maybe they wouldn’t need protecting if they weren’t such gits,” muttered Percy.

  “Percy!” chided Nan.

  “What?” said Percy. “They’re not helpless. Half the kids who hounded poor Frank to death were Humbles, if you had forgotten.”

  “So, you knew Frank Eaton-Philips, did you?” said Octavia sharply.

  “No I did not,” said Percy.

  “Really? Then why did several students report that you got into an altercation with him on Tuesday here in the library? One said she thought it was a lover’s tiff? Is that true?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Percy. “That was the first time I met him.”

  Nan looked in surprise at Percy, who hadn’t got around to telling Nan about her argument with Frank.

  “The altercation?” snapped Octavia impatiently. “Why did it happen?”

  “Because… Because…” Percy didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t very well tell them that she had been mad at Frank for spying on Lucifer could she? Lucifer was the last thing she wanted to mention.

  To her horror Lucifer strolled up behind Octavia and said, “Because the poor boy was hounding me.”

  Percy wanted to groan out loud.

  “What do you mean hounding you?” demanded Octavia, turning around to stare penetratingly at Lucifer.

  He stared equally penetratingly back at her, shadows across his face, his eyes as black as night in the dimness of this part of the library. He looked momentarily so menacing that he might as well have sprouted horns.

  Octavia took two hasty steps back from him, suddenly looking discomfited. “Er, sir,” she added.

  Lucifer smiled as if pleased she had got the hint. “He wasn’t very good at making friends,” he said, all charming and relaxed again as he propped himself up against the bookcase with his elbow. “Wanted a few style tips, both sartorial and communicative if you know what I mean.”

  Octavia scribbled this down.

  “He was hanging around acting weird,” said Percy. “Lurking behind a shelf. Would you like it if someone did that to you? I don’t think so. I told him so, and he got upset and ran off.”

  “And why were you following him all around school yesterday?” asked Octavia.

  “I was not following him,” Percy protested. “I was looking for him so that I could talk to him. I felt bad about what happened.”

  “Bad? Really? You?” said Octavia. She wrote a note. “Felt. Bad. For. Bullying. The. Victim.”

  “She wasn’t bullying him,” said Nan hotly. “That was not what she said!”

  “I can attest to that,” Lucifer added. He looked at Octavia pointedly. “Write that down.”

  She grudgingly did so.

  “You called him a victim,” said Percy. “Are you thinking it wasn’t suicide then?”

  “Certainly not,” said Octavia.

  “Certainly not thinking it or certainly not a suicide?”

  “The former,” Octavia snapped.

  “You don’t think two so called suicides in one week isn’t crazy suspicious?” said Percy. “What is the point of taking all your stupid statements if you are not going to look into it?”

  “Right, we should hop to it because Persephone Prince has a sixth sense about these things,” said Octavia sarcastically. “What are you now? The great Meek psychic? Just because you helped uncover one murder doesn’t make you an expert.”

  “Like you and Felix, you mean?” Percy asked scathingly. “The great undercover senti—”

  “Will you be quiet!” Octavia hissed.

  “Whatever. If you’re done bothering us during our precious lunch hour, will you leave now!” said Percy.

  “Tick tock,” said Lucifer, tapping his watch.

  “If you think of anything else, please call us,” said Octavia coolly, slipping into professional mode again. She gave Felix a look. Felix reached into his pocket to extract a business card and held it out to Percy.

  “Thank you, Felix,” said Percy in a breathy voice, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Are you giving me your number? However will I cope? Oh, the butterflies!” She clutched her heart dramatically.

  Felix flushed ever so slightly. He and Octavia left, Octavia throwing Percy a reproachful look over her shoulder.

  “Do you have to goad them like that?” said Nan.

  “Felix is cool with it,” said Percy. “It’s Octavia who doesn’t have a sense of humor. Do they suck it out of vampires when they die do you think?”

  Nan groaned.

  Percy looked thoughtful. “Are daywalkers dead?” she asked. “Like was she conceived undead, or did the undeadening happen in the womb, or—”

  “Stop!” said Nan, stuffing her fingers into her ears.

  Percy mouthed silent nonsense exaggeratedly at Nan until she took her fingers back out of her ears.

  “Stop it,” she said.

  Lucifer plonked himself down on the floor beside them, taking care to stay well out of reach of the kitten.

  “Do you like that boy, then?” he asked Percy.

  “No I do not!” she said irritably.

  Lucifer had a box of pizza tucked under his arm. He opened it to find that the pizza had all slid to one side and was a wreck of its former self.

  “Intolerable!” he said, looking outraged.

  “Pizzaaaaa,” said Percy, grabbing a slice and taking a huge bite.

  “We shouldn’t be eating in the library,” Nan moaned.

  Percy jerked her head at Lucifer. “Tell him.”

  Lucifer had taken a book off the shelf and was using it as a plate for his slice.

  With a cry of horror, Nan grabbed the book and put his slice onto a napkin instead.

  “Never do that again!” she hissed angrily.

  He was too busy munching to reply.

  After hesitating a couple of moments, the lure of pizza was too much for Nan. She picked up a slice carefully with her napkin and took a delicate bite.

  “So, did you really argue with Frank the day before he died?” she asked.

  “It was exactly like we said,” said Percy with a full mouth. “He was spying on Lucifer and you can imagine why I didn’t like that. I just didn’t expect him to get all wobbly about it and run off like that.”

  “Still, it doesn’t look good,” said Nan. “You arguing with him the day before he died, then going looking for him all of the following day, and then being found in the cubicle with his body right at the end of the day. I mean, that looks pretty awful. It’s a darn good thing he write that suicide note.”

  “About that,” said Percy, gulping down another huge bite of pizza. “I don’t think it was suicide.”

  “Not again,” groaned Nan.

  “Think about it!” insisted Percy. “Mrs Delancey on Monday and then Frank on Wednesday? Two suicides in three days? Does that sound right to you? And also, his satchel was hanging on the back of the cubicle door and I swear before Madam Strickt marched me out of there, I saw that cloud of doom again. Hanging all over his bag.”

  “What cloud of doom?” demanded Lucifer.

  Percy explained to him. Then added, “Oh why didn’t I see the bag before they all arrived? Imagine if it was another potion! Now the stupid cops or Eldritch Council have the bag and I don’t know how we are gonna find out what was in it. Do you reckon if I ask Felix to—”

  “You are not going to ask him anything!” hissed Nan. “Are you crazy? If this is a murder then what does that make you? Suspect number one is what!”

  “But if it is murder, do you really want the murderer getting away with it?”

  Percy looked at Lucifer who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, and demanded, “What do you think?”

  “Don’t ask him what he thinks!” said Nan. “We don’t want him to think about the M word at all.”

  Percy laughed. “Is he supposed to be a child who doesn’t know that M is for murder?”

  “People are dropping like flies,” said Lucife
r. “I thought grief would taste delicious but here it doesn’t taste of anything at all.”

  “Whose grief?” said Percy.

  “That Delancey boy’s. Janie was his mother.”

  “Taste?” asked Nan, looking worried.

  “Does her son go to this school?” demanded Percy. “Why did he come and see you?”

  “He was a student in my detention. Very boring it was too. Who knew you had to sit with them for an hour? If I knew that, I’d not have bothered with detention in the first place!”

  “You can taste emotions?” persisted Nan. “That’s not normal!”

  “The taste in the air of excitement and danger and fear and anger and grief,” he moaned, closing his eyes in reminiscence. “Oh the delicious taste. How I miss it. I couldn’t taste his at all. Or anyone’s.”

  “See?” said Nan, turning to Percy in outrage, as if this was all her fault. “He’s wishing he had a forked tongue. I told you that you shouldn’t talk about the M word!”

  “You don’t want a forked tongue, Lucy,” said Percy consolingly. “Wouldn’t you much rather taste this yummy cheesy pizza over a tawdry bit of despair?”

  Lucifer took another bit of his pizza, as if assessing the taste difference. He didn’t look too impressed.

  “I don’t think the Eldritch Council is that bad at their jobs,” said Nan firmly, clearly deciding it was best to change the topic. “I think they will find out themselves if there is anything wrong with the whole Frank thing, so let’s leave them to do their job.”

  “They’re not even looking into the whole Mrs Delancey thing,” objected Percy.

  “Will you stop harping on about her?” cried Nan.

  “If they bother to do their jobs properly,” muttered Percy in annoyance.

  They ate the rest of their pizza in silence. Lucifer, who had been carelessly pulling books off the shelf one by one and tossing them aside, had finally found one that interested him. It was on anatomy. His head was bent over as he scrutinized diagrams of human innards. Percy and Nan watched the kitten trying to climb as high up the bookcase as it could, clawing up the spines of the books before dropping again and again.

  Nan squealed and caught her each time like she was a fluffy little tennis ball. Clearly Nan loved kittens a lot because she didn’t complain about the damage its tiny claws were doing to the books.

  “Horrid little beast,” said Lucifer finally. “There’s something not right with that creature.”

  Nan turned reproachful eyes at him.

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking!” exclaimed Percy. “There’s something odd about this kitten. I’m telling you that she led me right up to Frank’s body as if she knew it was there.”

  “Nonsense,” said Nan.

  “It’s true!” said Percy. “She ran all the way there without hesitating once, and when she got there she went straight into that cubicle and wouldn’t leave until I had opened it up and found the body. What does that tell you? I reckon this kitten is special.”

  “But she’s a Humble’s kitten,” said Nan. “Humbles do not have special cats.”

  “That’s not a rule though,” said Percy. “Just like witches can be born to Humbles, maybe special cats can be born to normal cats?” She looked at Nan hopefully.

  “I dunno,” said Nan. “Seems unlikely.”

  The kitten, who had finally conquered the bookshelf and was perched at the top staring out over the library, suddenly pricked her ears.

  “See?” said Percy. “She heard you say she is not a special cat and now she doesn’t like you.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “What! Of course you care.”

  “Don’t.”

  “But I need her to like you. Quick say something nice to fix it. You didn’t think I was gonna keep the kitten, did you? Not when you want one so bad.”

  “So that’s why you’re trying to insist she has a special gift,” said Nan, looking outraged. “No way. I can’t have her. I need to get a cat that comes from a guaranteed familiar lineage.”

  “What a snob,” muttered Percy. “You’re making poor kitty feel inadequate."

  As if on cue, poor kitty had leapt off the other side of the shelf and vanished.

  Percy sprang up in great excitement. “Hah! There she goes again. Something is up with her. Watch if I’m not right.”

  She grabbed Nan’s arm and hauled her up. “See ya later, Lucy,” she said, running off and dragging Nan after her.

  Lucifer grunted. His head was still buried in his book, which he was also using as a plate again.

  Percy and Nan dashed out of the library following the kitten. Lunchtime was nearly over and students were heading towards their next classes, so they had to dodge and weave around startled groups.

  Suddenly the kitten vanished from sight. Percy skidded to a stop, causing Nan to crash into her back, still huffing and puffing.

  “Where is she?” gasped Nan.

  A little mewl made them look sideways to the row of lockers. One was slightly ajar and the kitten had squeezed inside it.

  “What are you doing there?” Percy crooned.

  “She got scared is what and decided to hide,” said Nan.

  “No she didn’t,” said Percy. “Look!” she pointed at the padlock on the locker. It was broken open.

  Percy excitedly pulled the locker open. “I bet you anything this is Frank Eaton-Philips’s locker,” she said.

  Nan looked disbelieving.

  Determined to prove her wrong, Percy looked inside and was disappointed to find the whole thing empty. Then it occurred to her why that was so.

  “See?” she said. “Octavia or the council people must have emptied it to take a look at his stuff.”

  “Or it’s just an empty locker,” said Nan.

  The kitten was scrabbling against the back of the locker. Percy pulled her away and then gave a cry of delight. The kitten had been scratching against the corner of some paper that had slipped into the crack at the back of the locker.

  It took a careful effort for Percy to pry the piece of paper out without losing it down the gap. It was an envelope. Excited, she opened it.

  “What is it?” Nan asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

  Percy extracted a typed letter, some notepaper with lots of handwritten notes on it, and a train ticket.

  Percy quickly scanned them all, and said excitedly, “See? This letter is addressed to Frank. It says he’s been shortlisted for an award for a story he’s written. Look at the amount! That’s not a small prize. And that fancy letterhead. It must be prestigious. Did you know he was a writer?

  Nan shook her head. “I didn’t know anything about him.” She took the letter from Percy and started reading it.

  “And look at this paper,” said Percy. “He was writing an award acceptance speech! And this is a train ticket to get to the prize giving ceremony this Saturday.”

  “Wow,” said Nan, looking impressed now she had finished reading. “Poor Frank. Now he’ll never know if he won. Do you think we should give this to his mum?”

  “Don’t you know what this means?” said Percy. “He was writing an acceptance speech. He was hoping to win. He bought a train ticket. He was planning stuff. He was excited. He had something to live for.”

  Nan’s mouth dropped open. “So that means…” She stopped, not wanting to finish the thought.

  Percy nodded. “It means he would never have killed himself!”

  7. The Fallen Angel

  “It could just be the Lucifer effect,” said Nan quietly.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” demanded Percy.

  “Just—”

  The bell rang for their afternoon lesson, Eldritch Community Studies.

  “I don’t want to be late,” said Nan. “Come on.”

  Percy stuffed the envelope containing Frank’s letter in her backpack. They hurried through the packed crowds of students now trying to pour into their classrooms.

  “Well?” Percy deman
ded.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” said Nan defensively. “You said yourself you were worried bad things might happen at the school because Lucifer was around. Maybe Mrs Delancey and Frank wouldn’t have done what they did if he wasn’t here.”

  Her cheeks were flushed in defiance by the time she finished.

  “I can’t believe you said that,” said Percy. “He didn’t even do anything wrong. You’re blaming him for no reason. You never liked him.”

  “That’s not fair!” said Nan.

  There was no opportunity to speak further. They had arrived at their classroom and the teacher immediately split the two of them up and pointed them towards different tables.

  The class had been divided into mixed groups of different types of beings, with most tables containing a werewolf, succubus or incubus, and one of the finfolk. Nan was the only witch at her table, given there were no other witches in the school. Percy was the Meek at hers.

  “Today you are going to discuss stereotypes and prejudices within your groups,” said the teacher.

  Percy glared across the classroom at Nan. Prejudiced was exactly what Nan was being towards Lucifer. Nan had the grace to blush.

  Percy sank into a moody slump, not bothering to listen to what her group was talking about.

  Bella was using up all the bandwidth in the room anyway. Over at the next table, the Queen Bee was complaining at full volume that everyone thought succubae were as bad as vampires and she was sick of the stereotype.

  “I mean, it’s not like we are undead,” said Bella loudly. “We have souls. We have the capacity to care for other beings.”

  Octavia the half vampire, who was sitting at the same table as Bella said coldly, “Are you saying that I don’t have the capacity to care for other beings?”

  “I didn’t mean you,” said Bella defensively. “You’re not exactly typical of your kind, are you?”

  “How would you know? Have you met any other vampires recently?”

  “Have you?” Bella shot back immediately.

  “None of your business!” said Octavia.

  The teacher hurried over to break up the brewing argument and guide the conversation back into calmer waters by asking the finfolk boy at the table what his thoughts were.