Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  It was the Reverend Peacefield who answered. “Oh, I suspect within a couple of days, tops, chief. You can see, we’ve really had remarkable progress since I found the Reveal charm in one of the old grimoires in the second vault.

  David asked: “The Avalon Vaults?”

  “Indeed, CPI Trew, indeed,” Thaddeus said rubbing his hands together. The Reverend looked so happy. I suspected he was getting his mystery fix through this series of thrilling events that were happening in his own backyard. Or, bell tower, rather.

  “Rev, we’d really prefer if you didn’t get involved,” I said gently, laying a hand on the vicar’s arm.

  “Oh, I do not intend to jump into anything dangerous,” Thaddeus assured me. “But, what’s the use of all that ancient knowledge down there,” he nodded his head toward the church and its famous vaults. “If we don’t get to put it to good use? Really, it’s the least I can do. And, if I do say so myself, the charm has put us on track for recovering the artifact.”

  Both Artemus and Carpathia nodded at me, to confirm what the vicar was saying was true.

  “Well, it looks like you guys have everything under control,” the chief said, wiping the last of the crumbs from his chin, and washing it down with a slug of cider. “There’s a lot we need to fill you in on, but the truth is we don’t have time. Hattie and I have to get to the Gorthland Swamps by this afternoon. And … well, a host of other things,” he finished, giving me an ‘eat your scone and hurry up’ look.

  I responded with my ‘I’m hoping for one more before we leave,’ glare.

  But, David had ushered me toward the stairs before the tray with the solitary scone was passed around again. The cats waited eagerly on the top step. I turned and offered an apologetic goodbye to the Reverend, Carpathia, and Artemus. I felt a little guilty for showing up, eating, and leaving. Perhaps it was for the best that I didn’t have a second scone. My guilt was at an ugly enough level as it was.

  “Hurry it, lady,” Gloom said, as I stepped past her. “We have to get the rest of the crew first.”

  There was no point in arguing with my grouchy cat. All of the Infiniti wanted to see their Faery cousin. Gloom was as excited as her siblings at the prospect of visiting with Portia’s guest, Hinrika Jonsdottir.

  “Hat, anything you can do to calm these kitties down?” David shouted at me across the six or so feet gap between our brooms, as we headed East toward the Gorthlands. The wind felt like it had been laced with razor blades, it was so sharp and brisk.

  I looked behind my friend, to see four of my kitties in various states of restlessness, pacing along the handle of his broom.

  Jet bounced on the spot right at the end of the besom, which made the ride jolt and lose altitude on more than one occasion.

  “Jet, buddy, keep still, okay?” I called out to my zippy cat. “You won’t see your cousin if we crash before we get there.”

  “Yep, cuz, yep!”

  He bounced. And an already pacing Midnight, Onyx, and a squirming Fraidy slid down toward their brother with the spring-loaded paws.

  “Ack!” Fraidy screeched. “Hattie, tell him to stop jumping! He’s going to get us killed!!”

  David’s reaction was lightning-quick as he pushed the nose of the besom downward to correct the weight imbalance.

  “Jet!” I scolded. “Stay still!”

  Jet’s excitement drained from his face. “Yep,” he beeped. “I’m a statue, boss, yep.”

  He became motionless, but for a sheepish grin.

  Fraidy, Onyx and Midnight recovered their former positions, and David’s broom finally looked like it was on course again.

  Carbon tittered from behind me. “I think our bro sniffed a bit too much of the ‘nip’ this morning.”

  “He’s stashing it, you know?” Eclipse chimed in. I turned on my broom.

  “He what?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a stash under the bed. He buries it under Fraidy’s sweater fortress because he knows you’d never look there,” my enigmatic cat stated matter-of-factly.

  “It’s true,” Gloom said. “There’s probably enough of the herb under there now to start a small business.”

  “Cat cartel,” Shade chuckled.

  “It’s not funny guys,” I said, turning my broom southbound to follow David. “His dosage needs to be measured carefully. It’s not good for him to go overboard on this stuff. And, I hate it that he doesn’t tell me about it.”

  “He’s an addict, what did you expect?” Gloom quipped. “Addicts always lie to hide their habit.”

  I shook my head and banked right until we were flying directly above the Gorthland Swamps. I saw Jet’s rear end wagging from side to side on David’s broom.

  Keep it together, buddy. I mentally urged my cat. The chief’s brush remained steady as we circled over Gaunt Manor, Portia Fearwyn’s spooky residence.

  “There she is! There she is!” My broom suddenly dropped from the sky like a sack of baby elephants, as the four cats behind me bounced and caterwauled at the vision that had grabbed their attention below. I pulled my broom up and steadied my course as I gazed down on the Faery Queen, Hinrika Jonsdottir. Dressed in one of her finest gowns, and a pair of Wellington boots, the cats Fae cousin looked as much of a lunatic as she ever did. Her face gazed skyward, as her long blond hair tumbled behind her. There was no doubt; the fairy was incredibly beautiful. Flawless, creamy skin, the clearest, truthfully blue eyes, and a set of cupid’s bow lips to finish off the perfection. But, all that beauty fell into a cave of horror as soon as the Faery Queen opened her mouth. Even from this height, I could see her black maw stretching up into an obsidian, maniac grin.

  If Jet had an addiction to catnip, then Hinrika’s dependence was on Icelandic licorice. The eccentric fairy’s diet seemed to consist entirely of this black candy, and her mouth, teeth, and tongue were as dark as soot from her years of rampant abuse.

  Hinrika twirled and laughed below us, just as excited as the cats to see one of her kin.

  Miraculously, I managed to bring the broom down to semi-dry land before the cats brought it out of the air with their frenzied fidgeting. David didn’t get off so lucky. Onyx, Jet, Fraidy and Midnight jumped while the chief was still about twenty feet in the air. The end of his broom leapt skyward, and the CPI fell forward in the direction of the ground. Luckily, with years of physical training under his belt, David pulled off an excellent forward roll as he hit the ground.

  I couldn't help but notice his contoured chest and stomach as his shirt lifted in the middle of his stunt.

  I trotted over to help my friend, as the cats and Hinrika had their vibrant reunion. The faery twirled, and chortled, twirled and chortled, while the cats clung to the fabulous fabric of her evening wear like Christmas ornaments. Hinrika’s dress would be in tatters in less than five minutes. I couldn’t understand why the Fairy Queen hadn’t yet worked this out, but Hinrika refused to wear anything other than the most stupendously expensive ball gowns.

  I helped David to his feet, as Portia Fearwyn and Verdantia Eyebright strolled toward us.

  “We wondered when you were going to grace us with your presence,” Portia said to both of us, her face set in its usual fierce look.

  Verdantia, our other beautiful fairy friend, glided over, her arms open.

  “Hattie, Brother Trew,” she said, her face lighting up in waves of kindness and love.

  “Vee, lovely to see you,” I said, embracing the radiant fairy. I looked behind her. “Where’s Orville?”

  “He’s inside,” Portia said. “Working his fingers to the bone, while we have our comfortable little tea party out here.”

  Her point made, we all followed the Witch Fearwyn into the bowels of Gaunt Manor.

  “How’s he getting along with the gadget?” I asked Vee as we walked side by side toward Portia’s kitchen and the door to the Custodian’s basement headquarters.

  Verdantia smiled at me, her green eyes twinkling like pale emeralds. “Orville’s under a lot of stra
in right now, Hattie. He’s being very hard on himself, and I’m trying to find a way to boost his confidence and get him to stop working so much.”

  “Oh, no!” I said, feeling a rush of empathy toward the brilliant teen. “He’s taking too much on?”

  Vee nodded. “Right now, he’s working on the production of Dragon Steel, trying to finish the formula for Futura 2 and, now, he’s trying to get into the device Carpathia brought to us last night.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Poor kid’s got a lot of weight on his shoulders.”

  “Precisely why we need to be gentle with him. We should encourage him at every point of his research, even his so-called ‘failures,’ Verdantia finished.

  “I agree,” I said. “It’s just a shame that Carpathia is busy with the bell anomaly and not able to help Orville with some of the metallic stuff.”

  We reached the top of the cellar stairs and descended in silence to the state-of-the-art lab next to Custodian HQ.

  I could see Orville Nugget behind the thick glass that separated his metallurgy lab from the rest of HQ. The teen looked exhausted. Even through the faceplate of his hazmat suit, I could see the dark patches under his eyes.

  Orville saw us and put down his tools. He entered the decontamination chamber and doused his suit in a fine mist of various antidotes. After wrestling out of his overalls, the teen pushed a button, and the glass door to the lab swished to the left in its tracks. He stepped into the meeting room and gave us a tired greeting.

  “I can’t get into it,” Orville confessed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The casing’s easy enough to crack, but it’s the band around the core that I can’t get through.”

  “You’re doing good, son,” David said, squeezing Orville’s thin shoulder. “More than can be expected, given your workload of late.”

  The teen’s shoulders slumped.

  “Hey, Orville, how’s the Futura 2 coming along?” I said, keeping my voice bright to steer the alchemist away from his perceived failures.

  “Good,” he mumbled. “But, what good is a cutting-edge cauldron if the folk that intend to use it are burnt to ashes?” Orville stared at me, his eyes glittering with fury.

  “Now, now, Nugget,” Portia intervened. “There will be no ‘burning to ashes’ happening around here. We have just set out on this journey, and your research is still new. We will uncover the secrets we need to know, exactly when the time is right.”

  Orville whirled on the Witch Fearwyn. “How do you know that?” He raged. “We’re getting nowhere with anything right now. The Dragon Steel isn’t hardening, and I can’t get into a device that a five-year-old alchemist in training should be able to crack. And, who knows what stage of progress the Unseelies and Warlocks are at?”

  “The formulas and inspiration will come, sweetie,” Verdantia’s magical voice drifted to the young man’s ears, and his stance softened somewhat.

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know,” he muttered.

  “What’s the problem with the Dragon Steel?” David asked. “I thought you had all the components, no?”

  “I thought so too,” the teen replied. “And, I still do, my numbers are solid.” He swept an arm toward the whiteboard at the back of the room without turning his head. An army of numbers and numerical symbols marched across the surface of the board. “But, I must be forgetting a process, a step somewhere. It’s not hardening. No matter how much heat we apply, we just can’t temper it. It’s … well, it’s a liquid still.” Orville leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling. “Goddess, please, please tell me what I’m missing.”

  “It will be revealed in time,” Verdantia stated softly.

  Fraidy nudged Orville’s shin with his head and rubbed his furry body along the front of the teen's legs. “S’okay, Orville,” Fraidy said. “You don’t have to make Dragon Steel suits for us, at least.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. You’ve got way less work ahead of you than you think,” I said. “My kittie’s being immortal and all.” I smiled at Orville, but he had already turned his head to exchange a look with Portia and Verdantia.

  “What?” I said.

  “That busybody vicar, Thaddeus Peacefield, delivered some ancient literature to us last night.” Portia began. “He had copied the intel from the original document taken from the second chamber of the Avalon Vaults.”

  I smiled. Thaddeus was diving into the mystery. I couldn’t help but feel the glow of his excitement at uncovering so many answers from the past. I bet the Reverend was having a field day with all this.

  “The document contained, ah, some … pertinent information regarding the perils we may face if the Wyrmrig is born,” the Witch Fearwyn finished.

  “Pertinent?” I asked.

  Verdantia put a loose arm around my waist. I felt a calm vibration pass through my body. She was priming me for something, I knew it.

  I pulled away.

  “What is it?” I asked, circling my head between Portia, Orville, and Vee. David looked perplexed.

  “The Lemniscate,” Portia said, licking her lips. “They are not ...safe… against Dragon fire. If their fur is touched with even the tip of the dragon’s flame, then their immortality is irrevocably lost.”

  My mouth fell open. My cats gaped too.

  “Well, they’re pulling out of the Custodians then,” I said, grabbing my bag.

  “Guys, get ready, we’re leaving.”

  “Hat,” David said. “Stop.”

  “No, David!” I barked. “You think I’m gonna put my cats in the way of a ten-ton beast that breathes killer flames? No, uh-huh, I don’t think so. Guys, I said come on, let’s get to it.”

  My cats sat motionlessly. They silently tracked my furious pacing with their eyes, but otherwise, not even a whisker twitched among them.

  I felt the back of my eyes prickle, and what felt like a clod of earth settle into the middle of my throat.

  “Guys. Please.” My voice cracked. I knew they weren’t going to leave this crazy, underground brotherhood. I knew they were going to fight this ‘thing,' whatever this ‘thing’ turned out to be, until the very end. And, I knew there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.

  Verdantia led me to a chair, and I collapsed into the seat in a lurching series of sobs.

  A vibration started near my left ear. I sobbed quietly as the energy moved to my right. Then came a steady, rhythmic shaking in my chest. On my neck. At the top of my head.

  The cats purred their elongated, healing vibrations all over my body. Their furry warmth beating away the chill of the terrible truth: that my cats were not only Cait Sidhe but also, very brave warriors who would risk their lives for the good of humankind. I felt the deep, balancing resonance of their collective purrs settle into my spine and nervous system. I took a deep breath, and I felt my shoulders relax, and my lower back loosen up. My kitties were easing me into a loving truth, and to show them respect and the honor I felt for them, I opened up entirely to their vibrations.

  Hinrika Jonsdottir had a hand to her heart, and a handkerchief wiping furiously at her eyes as she played proud witness to the spectacle. Even Portia looked a little misty eyed, but that might have been just because my own eyes were blurred with tears.

  I stood, giving each of my cats a kiss on the head and a fierce cheek rub.

  “Okay,” I said, finally. “I guess my cats will do whatever the heck they want to do.”

  Hinrika squealed in delight and opened her arms so the kitties could climb aboard and make tattered sails out of her beautiful gown.

  David shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, and turned to Orville to enquire further into the Dragon Steel making process.

  I sidled up to Portia, wiping away the last of my tears. “Portia, I wanted to ask if you’d take a look at David?” I looked into her hard black eyes, to see if she’d pour scorn on my request. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s been acting really strange just lately. And … well, I don’t think he’s well.”
/>   “He’s not dying,” she said. “Yet.”

  “Yes, but he’s been displaying --”

  “I know what the inspector has been displaying, Hattie Jenkins,” she snapped. “And, I am keeping a close eye on him. But, apart from his red blood cell count being a little low, I can’t find anything of any specific nature. Although, I do have my suspicions.”

  “What? Red blood cell count?” My eyebrows furrowed.

  Portia gave me a sideward glance. “The anemic fool is a very sound sleeper,” she said, a ghost of a smile pulling her thin lips upward. “I take my tests when CPI Trew is at his most unaware. Or, dumbest.”

  Strangely, I giggled. I think it was because I just felt a whole bucket of happy relief thrown over me. Portia was keeping an eye on my friend. I suddenly felt much less alone, not to mention happier, that David had an expert looking out for his well-being.

  “You’ve run tests on David while he’s been sleeping?” I asked, still giggling.

  “Well, how do you think he would react if I suggested that I examine him face to face?” Portia asked arching an eyebrow.

  “Fair point,” I said, looking at the chief across the room. He still didn’t look one hundred percent, but he certainly looked a lot chirpier. I guess it was impossible not to feel a whole lot ‘lighter’ around the bunch of folks that stood in this room now. There was so much good intention here at this moment, that I felt a wave of invincibility. Even knowing that my cats were perhaps going to stand in the way of some immense and scaly danger, I sensed the force of conviction rise within me. Even though I wasn’t in the Custodians -- and, nor did I want to be, if it meant a career of full-time witchcraft -- I felt that I had a place in all of this. Like I was a functional piece of the puzzle.

  “What do you think it is that’s plaguing him?” I asked Portia.

  “Apart from stupidity? I’m leaning toward a Warlock hex. CPI Trew’s displaying a fair few of the classic symptoms; overheating, vertigo, upset stomach, skin rashes, light sensitivity.”

  While I felt relieved that I now knew what was likely bothering my friend, a sudden gush of anger disrupted the feeling.