“Just as good or better,” Gabrielle said flatly. “You have already surpassed her talents, no? You have revealed two out of the five challenges, Hattie. Chimera taught you everything you know about being a witch, yes?”
A quick flash of the fire came and went before I could stuff it back down into my subconscious. “Just the herbs. Everything else, I’ve had to learn from the books that she left with me.”
“So she continues to teach you how to be a witch through those books.”
And that was the flip side of Gabrielle’s lack of prejudice. Her literalism made her come to conclusions that were impossible to deny in their simple logic.
“But if the wand’s power’s remain locked, why are you keeping it on your person today?” she asked simply.
“Oh, it’s stupid, really,” I said, picking up the wand while I dropped the fork with my other. “I was just…I was hoping against hope that I’d managed to unlock enough of the wand to do something that might help Millie and Midnight. I mean, I hate using magic, I know. But, if it could help out my friends, then I'd use it, for sure.”
Gabrielle placed a dusty hand on my forearm.
“The thing is, Millie was acting really weird before she fell into that…deep sleep. I don’t want to call it a coma.” I suggested.
“Well, then don't call it a coma. How was she acting strangely?”
“She kept insisting on showing up at the shop, even though she could barely stay on her feet. She staggered over here that last morning without waiting for Verdantia Eyebright to check on her. The last thing she told me was that she 'had to do it.'" I sighed. "I mean who says that? Who says that about coming to work; 'I had to do it.' It's nuts."
My chef friend’s face grew thoughtful. “She is a beloved, cherishful, kind and thoughtful friend.” was her response.
"There's no such word as 'cherishful,' but I get your point." I gave Gabrielle's hand a brief squeeze. Millie really was all these things. And, I needed her. Needed her back at the shop, waltzing about, throwing back the quips and sharp-shooting Jet with the spray-gun.
"I know you would like her back in the shop with you, Hattie." my dusty friend said. "I hope she is back before your next case."
"Woah! Next case? What're you talking about, girlfriend?"
Gabrielle said nothing. But her gaze never left my face.
This conversation had gotten too weird and too tense. I finished the rest of my meal in silence and Gabrielle thankfully said nothing else, she only busied herself with collecting the empty containers.
"I hope you can come into the bakery this week. I'll save you an almond croissant," Gabrielle said on her way out the door, stopping first to say goodbye to Artemus.
A pair of yellow eyes suddenly appeared from the dark corner beside the stove.
“I don’t care if she IS human now,” Shade said with a shiver. “That is still one freaky dudette.”
He speaks the truth.
"What's up, buddy?" I questioned my kitty.
“Well, I was kind of hoping to tag along on the little field trip you got planned for the Coven Isles Alchemical Society with Trewlove. A little covert ops to see what’s up. I hear it's more like a secret society. These dudes gotta have some serious skeletons in their closets, I reckon.” Shade gave me his cheekiest smile. An instant winner and he knew it.
"You can come along with Middie and me, yes." I tickled him under the chin.
"Midnight's going? What if he screws up? He's sleep deprived, man. He'll bungle it, for sure." Shade shook his head, not understanding why he couldn't be the only 'man' for the job.
"We need him, Shade. He's the only one that can do the Flip charm. We might need it by the sounds of it."
"Yep, we'll definitely be needing it, bro." Midnight strolled in. He eyed his brother carefully. “My contacts haven’t been able to punch through the wards on the outside gates of the CIAS. We might need a few tricks to bypass it. And, best time to do it is now. In the lunch hour when security isn't so tight." Midnight declared, standing tall and acting as alert as he possibly could.
Artemus called out from the front. “I should mention something that Mr. Copperhead said while we were having a chin-wag at the door this morning,”
Joining Artemus up front, I asked “What?”
“The Society has a very strict ‘no-familiars’ policy that would bar your rather inquisitive felines from the premises. I’ve no idea if the magical protections are robust enough to back this policy up, but I'm sure you're about to take the time to find out for yourselves."
“I might have a little magic up my sleeve,” Midnight said with a grin that would have done credit to the Cheshire Cat. “How about we leave now? Without ol' Trewlove, I mean. He'll be along later, anyway. And, we've really got to get there before the lunch time lull is over."
“And I can cover for you by saying that you had an urgent delivery that required you to leave,” Artemus added with a wicked smile of his own.
“And with that statement, Mr. Caves,” Onyx said. “You have just proven yourself to be one of ours.
I knew it was wrong. I knew it would probably annoy David, but I felt my blood whoosh in an excitable rush to my ears. I hurried to prepare the broom.
CHAPTER 15
Even through the thin veil of afternoon mist, the Society was an impressive-looking edifice. It looked like a miniature version of the Versailles Palace on the Mainland; a grand, sprawling building that took up at least the equivalent of a couple of city blocks. The French styled roofs glittered their spires toward the heavens. Striking golden beams of refracted light, even in the hazy, swirling air of the afternoon. I turned on 'the Sight.' I figured if the Coven Isles Alchemical Society was riddled with protection wards, then the Fairy vision wouldn't hurt. Besides, Portia Fearwyn had made it clear to me that it was probably a good idea to use it as much as possible right now. Aha! Straight away I could see a band of Hermetic wards that extended around the building. Two were placed strategically, either side of the imposing silver door.
I looked behind me. My kitties sat, still, and silent (for once) in a narrow alleyway, barely used and, hopefully, hardly noticed, in front of the Society. Their small, coal faces turned up to me, waiting for instruction.
“Alright, Midnight,” I whispered, “The wards are just in front of the doormen." I pointed to where the security guards stood. Midnight popped his head out for a quick look. "Might want to scratch out your Flip charm from the cover of this alley though."
“Well, I would,” he mumbled, looking a bit awkward. “It’s just…well…the Flip guardian of this alley and I have a bit of a disagreement we’ve yet to figure out.”
“C’mon, brother,” Shade said. “Take a look around. It's Piccadilly Circus out there. This is the best we’ve got."
“If Midnight thinks it’s a bad idea, then don't push it, Shade,” I said, noting the lunchtime gathering of well-heeled men milling around the silver door. “Okay, so we need to get closer. Think you could slip under the feet of the passersby, draw your Flip circle nearer the door, and then ‘flip-in’ from there?”
A whistle escaped through my sleepy moggie's teeth. “It’s touch-and-go. And I’d need you to distract the doormen. But it’s doable.”
“Good,” I said, standing up straight.
I walked purposefully up to the door sentries.
They looked like they’d stepped out of a Victorian photograph. They were both festooned with top hats, thick coats, woollen layers, starched collars, full gloves and pocket watches. A hellish outfit for a summer day like today.
The one on the right put a hand up as I tried to walk through. “Sorry, miss,” he said in a cut-glass accent. “Members only.”
“I’m aware of that,” I said, using the patient tone I reserve for recalcitrant customers. “You've probably not received notice yet, that Vice-Chair Copperhead is expecting me?”
My doorman looked at his counterpart, who shook his head ever so slightly. Out of the corner of my
eye, I spied my two cats, slinking low to the ground, dodging boots and shoes alike.
“I’m afraid that this is the first either of us has heard of it,” my doorman said. “Miss…?”
“Jenkins,” I said. “Hattie Jenkins. I performed a little service for the Vice-Chair recently.”
On a deeper level, I knew that ‘Dum ’n’ ‘Dee would get the wrong idea about my words. Some men are just that predictable. Which makes them easy to play. They exchanged a knowing smirk. Bingo! “Not that kind of service!" I said indignantly, raising my voice. You see, if I made them feel like they'd offended me, then it might be easier to get them to let me slip inside. "I run the Angel Apothecary here on Glessie. I have just completed a large order for Mr. Copperhead, and I have to say I take offense at your presumption!” I sneaked a peek at the kitties.
Midnight was doing his best to sketch out a Flip circle without being trampled. Shade's tail was swishing left and right in a kind of desperate impatience. He hissed at his brother, "Can't you go any faster, slowpoke?"
The kitty-commotion made my doorman turn in their direction. I stood in front of my mischievous fur-babies to block them from view, and got all up in doorman one's face.
“After he had left, I noticed I had mixed the wrong element's together. This is a concern. If Mr. Copperhead uses the mixtures as is, then there's a good chance that he will get hurt” I gave them a stern stare to illustrate just how hurt Norris Copperhead could get. “Do you really want to explain later that you shunned the woman who could have saved his life?" I felt my face redden. Wow. I was pretty good at this. "Look, I understand the Vice Chair is a busy man, but --"
“—not too busy to greet a worthy guest such as Hattie Jenkins, however.” Norris’ voice rang out as he stepped breezily through the door.
"Sir, this woman says that there may be a problem with the --"
I turned my head quickly to check on the cat's progress. Midnight had completed the circle. I just caught them as they vanished into thin air. On their way to the Flip. Phase one complete. I turned back to the conversation.
“Ms. Jenkins has a tongue of her own, Williams,” Norris snapped,
“Hattie, what can I help you with?” Norris was all charming smile and dancing eyes.
“I had some concerns with the mixtures I gave you this morning,” I said. I didn't feel quite as Oscar worthy now. I hope it didn't show. “It may be nothing but—“
“Oh, be assured that your fears are unfounded, Ms. Jenkins. I just tested them before coming here to the club and can say, beyond any doubt, that you did more than an excellent job with your manufacturing of them.”
I gave him a smile pulled so tight with fake relief it hurt. I think B Movies would be my entrance point into Hollywood.
“So, everything’s good? No strange reactions?”
“Everything’s excellent. No, the mixtures are perfect. Not an element out of place, and thus no strange reactions,” Norris replied. He scratched his chin. “Was there anything else that I could—“
“Excuse me, Mr. Copperhead?” David’s all-business voice came from behind me. Yikes. Busted.
Mr. Copperhead glanced over my shoulder. “Ahh, Chief Para Inspector Trew, I presume?”
“Correct, sir,” David confirmed, holding up his badge. “I was hoping to get those few questions I mentioned last night out of the way?”
David gave me a severe case of dagger-eyes. Yeah, I was going to have to explain myself after this.
“If you can indulge me a few moments to deal with another matter?” Norris requested. “I should be glad to answer your questions, of course. In fact, I would very much like for you to also join us in the club, Ms. Jenkins. As my personal guest.”
David threw more shade at me.
“I'd be honored, thank you.” I managed.
“Perish the thought,” Norris gushed, opening up those inviting arms of his. He took one of my hands in his, and held it high, as if we were preparing for a merry old dance. And this way we waltzed through the silver door, into the pristine belly of the CIAS.
The lobby inside was even more impressive than the exterior. In keeping with the Louis XIV touches of the outer building, the ceiling was a grand dome that looked to be about thirty feet tall. A large reception desk ran along the back of the room, flanked by two sets of French doors with gilded handles. Club members and servants alike passed through the doors. The members chatting and laughing mostly, while the servants balanced terrines of fine foods and brass trays of exotic drinks. At the desk, a very pretty receptionist responded cheerfully to phone enquiries.
"So, Mr. Copperhead, where can we go so I can ask you some questions?” David pushed.
"Yes, yes, of course, CPI Trew. Let me just escort the lovely lady here to the dining room." Norris turned to me. "I'm sure you'll go ga-ga over the peach cobbler. It's quite splendid, let me tell you." Copperhead gave me a thousand watt smile.
“Actually, Mr. Copperhead, Hattie is also a consultant on this case for the department.”
Norris raised his eyebrows. “You don't say? Well, I can certainly vouch for her talents, CPI Trew, for whatever it is worth.” He opened his arms and motioned for us to follow him down the hallway.
He opened a door on the right. "Here!" He announced triumphantly.
We were in a pleasantly airy room, replete with comfy love seat and a couple of well-worn, yet expensive, chairs. French doors, all glass, and light, led out to a patio garden, decorated tastefully with recliners and deck chairs. The seats afforded a front row view to a walled badminton court. Spectators were already taking their seats from the sidelines.
David and I looked at each other.
"I'm happy to sit down and answer all of your questions, Inspector," Copperhead burbled. "But, first, I play badminton! And, I've given you two the best seats in the house!" Norris beamed in sheer delight. "It's our annual knockout matches. Today's game is highly anticipated. I'm sure you'll understand I wouldn't miss it for the world?" He looked to the Chief, his face asking for permission and maybe also forgiveness.
David shrugged. "Sure, we'll wait."
“Fabulous! I'll have drinks and a lunch menu sent to you straight away."
With that, our flamboyant host strode out of the room. I guess now was my chance to explain what I was doing here without my friend, the chief.
David let me off lightly. I was fairly surprised at how laid back he was about my sneaking around behind his back. Maybe he had a lot on his mind, but he seemed to drop into a restful kind of peace, and even mentioned that he was looking forward to the match.
An elven girl brought us a menu, and some freshly squeezed lemonade with sprigs of Holy Basil tastefully scattered across the ice for garnish.
David and I huddled around the bill of fare like orphan children who hadn't seen a square meal in months. The menu items were mind-blowing, even though I didn't know what half of them were. The meals served at the Club were legendary across the isles. We both knew it too.
“Mmmm, Pandoran Truffles!" I exclaimed.
"I - I'm so terribly sorry, ma'am," our waitress looked embarrassed. "But, the Truffles are no longer available. The season for them seems to be getting shorter and shorter. The last time they were available was last week.“
Bast! I'd never eaten an expensive and rare fungus before. I'd heard so much 'foodie' hype about the exquisite little mushroom cousins, that I was hoping to sample them myself. Truffle picking tours to Pandora are outlandishly costly. Not a tour I could ever afford to go on. Although, I did see the truffle forests of Pandora on a school trip once years ago. It was a damp and eerie wood, filled with the sounds of snuffling Pandoran pigs, as they uncovered the pricey delicacies with their peat filled snouts.
We each ordered poached salmon, new potatoes, and a Glessie salad. I felt a wave of love for my friend: we both ordered recognizable food. I think that says a lot. I think that says we’re well suited. It’s the little things.
Sipping our lemonades, we tur
ned our attention to the game, which was just about to begin.
The opponents, clad in white shirts and shorts, stepped onto the court. I was more than a little surprised to see that Orville Nugget was Norris' opponent. Whispered murmurs swept through the crowd. Norris was a hot topic of conversation right now, what with his father, the late Golden Chair of this society, and of his (Orville’s) recent invention of Futura: Cauldron of the future. Ha! I bet it was only members of this club that could even afford the new metal pots. I know I’m doomed to be hand-scrubbing the sticky ‘after-goo’ of Godmarsh toads from my ancient cauldron for the rest of my life. A Futura was worth more than the whole of Grandma Chimera’s jewellery collection.
The referee called for silence from the crowd, and the murmuring settled down. Norris served first, knocking the bird in a high arc toward his opponent.
"Where are the cats?" David leaned in toward me.
“Chill, chief,” Shade said from the shadows.
"They're not supposed to be here," I whispered to the Chief. "Please be discreet." I cautioned.
Norris scored the first point, invoking a round of polite applause from the crowd.
"Should have known," David muttered out the side of his mouth. "Have you two had a chance to snoop around?"
“Just had a peek inside Norris Copperhead’s locker,” Midnight whispered from under the table.
“How did you even—“ David began.
“The Flip, remember? All the locker doors are open over there.” Shade pointed out. The Flip charm was a neat trick. It opened up an alternate universe. One that mirrored ours exactly, down to all of the seemingly unimportant details, such as lockers. However, with the Flip, the universe that is opened up for you will behave the exact opposite to the one you previously occupied. To make a long story short, locked lockers in this world means unlocked lockers in the Flip world. The scratching of the circle by the cats earlier was the doorway to the Flip. It was a really hard world to handle. It took quadruple the time it would take in our ‘regular’ world just to navigate the strange realm. Everything was backward, forward, upward, downward, inside out, back to front, you name it. The cats were pretty talented at ‘flipping,’ though.
Moggies, Magic and Murder Page 14
