A Season of Gods and Witches

by Bloome, Alice

  Glenn reached for my access card as soon as it popped out of the printer, but instead of handing it to me, the satyr held it over his head as if daring me to jump for it.

  “Umm, Glenn?”

  “You are aware that one of our rules for library use prohibits any individual of ill health to visit—-”

  Oh, so that’s what he was worried about.

  “Relax. Self-made witches like me are still immune.”

  “And so those dark circles under your eyes—-”

  “Lack of sleep,” I assured him, “and not Nosos’ virus.”

  “Ah.” Glenn suddenly had a knowing look on his face. “A lover’s quarrel.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What is it with this obsession with lovers’ quarrels with you guys?”

  “Your defensiveness isn’t helping your case, Agent Vavrin.”

  “I am not—-”

  The satyr made a show of rearranging the sheaf of papers in his hands. “Enjoy your visit at Clio’s library, Agent Vavrin. Happy reading.” Glenn gestured to the next person in line to come forward. “Welcome to Clio’s library. My name is Glenn, and I serve the muse of history as one of her gatekeepers. How may I be of service?”

  Unbelievable, I thought grumpily as I snatched the access card he had placed on the counter and marched towards the elevator. Why was it that every time I had a bad day, it had to be blamed on Paul?

  My phone rang just before as I was about to toss it into the compartment outside Hermes’ private chamber, and She-Ra, back in her holographic priestess form, turned to me with an inquisitive look. “Shall you take the call first?”

  “Umm, yeah. Is that okay?”

  “Certainly.”

  She-Ra took her leave with a polite bow and disappeared into the walls to literally step out of view.

  Mm. Nice touch, I guess?

  I swiped the screen to answer Paul’s call. “Hey.”

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  The truth god’s deep, gentle voice was like magic, washing away my irritation with just two words, and I leaned against the wall with a sigh. Even so, I still obliged to say, “I’m not beautiful.”

  “You already know the answer to that,” Paul murmured with a chuckle.

  And I did. He was the truth god, and he wouldn’t bother to lie about something so trivial. However – knowing and believing were two different things, and it was hard to fathom how someone who was kin to Aphrodite herself could actually think I was, well, beautiful.

  He should have just said I was smart. Resourceful. Determined. I’d totally have bought those things. But beautiful?

  “Remind me one of these days to give you a magic mirror.”

  “Like the one in Snow White?”

  “Something like it, yes,” Paul murmured, “only this one lets you know whether people find you attractive or not.”

  “Oh.” My lips twitched. “The modern world already has something like that. It’s called Tinder.”

  There was a long pause – and then Paul said very firmly, “Not in your life will you join that site.”

  I burst into laughter. “You Googled it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” the god admitted in chagrin, “which is also why I know that if your photo shows up there, it would indicate your availability to dating other men.”

  “That’s, umm, right.”

  “And you are not that, are you?”

  Since there was something about Paul’s silky tone that warned me against cracking even a single joke, I said obediently, “No, Paul. I’m not that.” Practical was my middle name after all, and I had no problem choosing my battles.

  “That’s a relief to hear,” the truth god murmured, “especially since there’s this rumor going around that says we had a fight and we’re no longer speaking to each other.”

  Cast you, Glenn.

  Did that satyr have a hotline to one of Iris’ gossip shows or something?

  “I’m back in Clio’s library,” I began.

  “I know,” Paul interrupted.

  “Oh. Um. How much do you know—-”

  “Everything,” he said dryly, “thanks to Hermes.”

  Brooms and sticks, I knew it.

  “Are you mad?” I asked in a small voice.

  “Puzzled but mad, no.” Paul’s tone gentled. “Is there any reason you’d rather ask a favor from Hermes than from me?”

  “It’s going to sound stupid,” I warned him.

  “Try me.”

  “I didn’t want to give people another reason to think I’m taking advantage of you.”

  “So you took advantage of my brother instead,” Paul finished. “You’re right. It’s stupid.”

  “I told you it was.”

  “Hermes is no kind god. He would never have lent you anything if he didn’t know you were my woman.”

  “Like I said, I already know it’s stupid. But even so—-” I took a deep breath. “I don’t care. I’d do it again if I had to.”

  After a moment, Paul’s heavy sigh rolled down the line, and the sound made me want to sigh, too. “I’m sorry for being stupid and stubborn about this,” I muttered.

  “It’s alright, sweetheart. You have your own mind. It’s what I love most about you, and if push ever comes to shove, I realize I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  That’s it, I’m dead, I thought glumly as color heated my cheeks. This man could make me blush so easily with just a few words. If that wasn’t proof of how head over heels in love I was with this guy, then I don’t know what was.

  “I love you, Paul.”

  “And yet you sound so sad as you say it,” Paul teased.

  “That’s because I am.”

  “I know.” Paul’s tone was amused. “And it’s one of the reasons why I’m in love with you.”

  My toes curled hard even as anxiety pricked my heart like a poisoned needle. “Did Hermes tell you about our deal?”

  “You’d go to the ball with me in exchange for lifetime use of his private chamber.”

  “Umm, yes.”

  “It’s an excellent deal,” Paul remarked, “considering our lifespan—-”

  I found myself shaking my head even though he couldn’t see me, and I cut him off, saying baldly, “I’m scared to death of embarrassing you at the ball.”

  “That’s impossible.” Paul’s answer was reassuringly swift, and my anxiety eased a little.

  “Hermes told me that, too.”

  “I wish you hadn’t told me,” Paul said gruffly. “Because now I know I owe him a favor.”

  His words made me laugh, which I suspected was exactly what he was aiming for, but even so his calmness didn’t completely get rid of the trepidation that had me fidgeting restlessly on my feet. The truth was, I’d rather get into the ring against Scylla and Charybdis than attend a cursed ball as Apollo’s date.

  But...

  I also knew ducking this one out would be an act of cowardice, not to mention the fact that I’d only be delaying the inevitable.

  “I don’t have anything to wear to the ball,” I said finally.

  “Leave it to me.” Paul’s tone was so self-assured, I had a feeling he had already my whole outfit planned ages ago.

  “So you’re my fairy godmother now?”

  “Whatever sweeps your broom, Agent Vavrin.”

  I choked back a laugh. “That makes no sense.”

  “And words like “you’re lit” do?”

  I grinned. “Good point,” I pushed myself off the wall. “I’ll leave it to you then.” I checked my watch. Whoa. Had I really spent that much time talking to Paul? Guilt nipped at my conscience. I shouldn’t have taken Paul’s call during working hours—-

  “I can practically hear your brain disconnecting itself from this conversation, Agent Vavrin,” Paul observed.

  Color flew back to my cheeks with a vengeance. “I, uh, no—-”

  Paul chuckled. “You can go back to work, sweetheart. Call me when it’s time to celebrate.”

 
“That’s if I ever solve these two cases,” I muttered, “and that’s a big if.”

  “I have faith in you.”

  Although Paul’s sweet words had me internally floating on Cloud 9, I deliberately shoved all fluffy thoughts out of the window the moment I entered Hermes’ private chamber. Taking a seat, I dove straight into work immediately and started testing out keyword searches.

  Caren + Queen of Napaeae

  Harpy + theft

  Nymph + theft

  The sprites zipped back and forth to my window slot as they fed the necessary texts into my system. Unfortunately, none of it revealed what I was looking for.

  The historical account of Caren’s short-lived reign over Napaeae was simply the uncut version of what Hermes told me, while all stories about harpies stealing were simply variations of what She-Ra had already told me about. Harpies, contrary to popular myth, were creatures of justice; their race shunned all forms of greed, believing it to be the most shameful of all sins.

  As for nymphs having anything to do with theft, the sprites weren’t able to find anything pertinent about this at all.

  Which means I’m back to square one.

  Frustration threatened to overwhelm my thoughts, but I resolutely pushed it away and stared hard at the digital screen of the writing desk.

  Come on, Blair. There has to be something you’re missing here.

  Taking a deep breath, I decided to start from scratch and reached for my notebook. Thanks to good old magic, it also served as a voice recorder, and I had used it to record my thoughts after every visit I made.

  Recording #289

  The victim’s name is Marlee Keegan, harpy. She seemed like a genuine victim to me.

  The hotel smelled unbelievably good, like a mix of fresh water and mountains.

  Caren asked a lot of questions about my wand...

  Recording #294

  My phone call with Officer Leeb hasn’t offered up any new clues for the case. The only odd thing he can remember about the crime scene is how a particular fragrant scent masked the odors commonly associated with animals.

  I sat up in my seat in shock.

  Gaea bewitched.

  That was what I had been missing. I thought of how our receptionist Mary Lou, a tree nymph, often smelled of forests, and more puzzle pieces fell into place. I thought of how surprised Caren was that I knew of her history, of how keen her interest was in my scanner.

  Could there be a link between the burglaries and her history as a former queen?

  And why target only harpies – or had that simply been a coincidence?

  I quickly tapped my desk and started typing another search.

  Nymph + Harpy

  The search results were massive, and I could’ve sworn this had a sprite glaring at me as she dropped a heavy-looking tome into the slot.

  Oops, sorry.

  Text started appearing on the screen, and when this continued on for the next twenty minutes, I knew this could easily take forever. I had to filter my search, but how?

  Caren of Napaeae + Harpy

  The number of search results went down, but only by twenty-five percent, which still left me with –

  Twelve thousand pages to scroll through, I realized with a gulp.

  Jumping out of my chair, I started pacing the length of the room as I tried to figure out another way to get the answers I needed.

  Evidence suggested the presence of a valley nymph like Caren in two possibly related crime scenes, but it wouldn’t be able to prove that Caren was the burglar beyond reasonable doubt.

  I needed something more conclusive, such as a reason to corroborate her presence at the crime scenes. In other words, I needed to know why she would steal in the first place.

  And that’s it, I realized.

  Throwing myself back into my seat, I quickly went through my case report and pulled out the pages that provided detailed descriptions of the items declared missing by the victims.

  Ivory comb + nymph

  Gold pipe + nymph

  After a moment, my screen went blank. Zero search results in other words, and I bit back a sigh of frustration. Come on, Blair. Think! Think! There had to be a reason why these two items were important. If not to Caren then –

  Oh, that was it!

  Ivory comb + harpy

  Gold pipe + harpy

  This time, a single document showed up on my screen, and my heart banged against my chest.

  One by one they fell – Aello, Calaeno, and now Ocypete, too. Unable to bear the deplorable and sorrowful sight of the growing iniquities of the mortal world, they surrendered their life forces to Gaea, one at a time, and now the only one left was Podagre. Although the last full-blooded harpy yearned to join his siblings, Podagre also knew that such a course of action would be as selfish and helpless as the acts of the same mortals they despaired over.

  First he must find a successor to take his place on the throne and rule his race with benevolence and honor. Once the new king or queen is found, then and only then would he be able to cross over. With these thoughts, he conferred with the three Fates, and upon returning to Earth, he visited the graves of his beloved kin and one by one retrieved their most precious items.

  The ivory comb of Aello,

  The golden pipe of Calaeno,

  And lastly, the diamond ring of Ocypete

  The wind gods, upon answering the call of the last full-blooded harpy, carried them away with their mighty gusts of air, and as they faded from sight, Podagre retreated into an unnamed cave and submitted himself to the care of Sleep.

  With this, the Fates’ prophecy had begun.

  Man or woman, whoever came into possession of all three need only to take Podagre’s heart, and then and only then can the rightful person claim the empty throne and all harpies shall bow before their new ruler.

  Chapter Twelve

  “It’s exactly as you feared.”

  It was Lana saying the words this time, but the validation of my sleuthing skills only made me feel worse, and I stepped on the brakes, even in a greater hurry now to get to Hotel Nyssa.

  Just as I suspected, the diamond ring of Ocypete had been stolen from its last known location: a museum in New York, and surprise, surprise, traces of ketamine had also been found in the crime scene.

  Three items were now ticked off on the harpy throne takeover checklist, I thought darkly, and just one last horrifying deed to do.

  “Anything else I can do?” Lana asked over the phone.

  “Can you get a BOLO out for the owner of Hotel Nyssa, the former Queen of Napaeae?” BOLO stood for be on the lookout, and in the law enforcement dictionary used by humans, this meant that all officers would be provided all the necessary information to prevent a wanted suspect from evading arrest.

  In our world, however, we made use of the aetoi for BOLOs. These creatures were more like bloodhounds with wings, with their keen sense of smell and ability to track targets for thousands of miles. And since they looked no different from your everyday bald eagle, the aetoi was able to do its work right under everyone’s noses – and with no one the wiser.

  “I can have one issued in minutes,” Lana told me, “but I’ll need probable cause.”

  “I don’t have it yet.”

  Most other agents would’ve bailed on me after that, but the words only made Lana grunt. “Give me a sec. Hotel Nyssa, right?” I heard her typing in the background. “Okay, I got it – I have a report here from the health inspector – she’s guilty of some kind of plumbing violation.”

  Probably because of what she did to get the ivory comb out of the drainage hole, I realized.

  “It won’t make her a killer,” Lana emphasized, “but it does make her guilty of a crime. It should buy you some time before someone starts asking questions and gets the BOLO taken down.”

  “That’s all I need. I owe you one, Lana. Best tech support ever.”

  “Save the flattery for your boyfriend,” Lana answered tartly, “and just work on
giving me something good to make the BOLO stick.”

  The parking lot of Hotel Nyssa was full when I finally made it, but there was no sign of a decade-old, silver-colored Toyota.

  “Are you sure that Caren only has one vehicle listed under her name?”

  In response, She-Ra showed a copy of Caren’s DMV records on her display, and my heart sank. Brooms and sticks. It really was just one car – and it wasn’t here.

  Troy and Phil got out of the car the same time I did, with their frowning looks telling me that they had somehow figured out I was after a suspect, and one who just might have intentions of killing the last living full-blooded harpy on earth.

  “How—-”

  Philip didn’t even let me finish my question, saying simply, “The BOLO.”

  Right. I kept forgetting that since these two were INTERPOL detectives, they also had access to the same communication channels I used.

  Although the reception counter was empty, it didn’t take us long to find where everyone was – apparently, the harpies were having some kind of celebration at the hotel’s second-floor function room, and seated in front of everyone was the event’s guest of honor, Caren.

  The color drained from her face upon seeing me, and when she saw the two warriors flanking my sides, the wine glass she held in one hand slipped out of her hold. The loud crash stunned everyone into silence, and the harpies, following Caren’s line of sight, turned around to look at us.

  “He has a gun!”

  It was Caren’s voice, and chaos erupted at her scream. In the corner of my eye, I saw Troy and Philip reaching inside their jackets to show their badges, but this only sent the harpies into further panic, thinking that they were indeed reaching for their guns.

  “They mean no harm,” I yelled, trying to calm everyone down, but when I saw Caren slip out of the back door, all thoughts of helping with crowd control were forgotten. I raced after her, bursting past the back door, and I let out a yelp of surprise when I almost toppled over the railing of the fire exit in my haste.

  Brooms and sticks, but that was close!

  Taking a peek, I saw that the former queen had almost reached the ground floor and knew there was only one thing for me to do to prevent her from escaping. It was a spell that Paul had recently taught me, and I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping that it would work.