“How did you get your name? You claim you’ve forgotten everything before Nanker, so how did you remember your name?” David asked.
“My name was given to me in this, my new era. It came in a dream.”
This guy was a crackpot.
“You might think me a crackpot, but I am more than that. I am a man of chance and destiny. Wherever fate’s winds steer me, I do not resist.”
I stiffened. Could this weirdo read minds? Onyx tapped my foot. “Blind luck,” he mouthed.
Phew.
“Well, I admire your free spirit, Mr. Jyldrar,” David said. “But, I wonder if you could reign it in a little, and tell us what you saw before the blast occurred?”
“I saw nothing. But when I arrived --just seconds before the explosion -- I did sense a host of strange energies in the area.”
“Okay, yep,” David tried, wiping a hand over his face. “So, apart from the bad vibes, did you see anything else? Anything from the material world?”
“I have told your men already, David Trew,” Typhon said, staring at my friend with a look that resembled wonder.
“I understand that,” the chief said. “But, maybe you heard something instead? A foreign tongue drifting in the air, perhaps? A language you didn’t recognize?”
Typhon shook his head, and David went for the jugular. “Have you ever uttered the Lost Language, Mr. Jyldrar?”
I scrutinized the man’s face, but the drifter’s expression was blank. Jyldrar shook his head. “In this life, my life of predestination, I know nothing of this language.” He paused. “But, I cannot promise that I did not know the tongue you speak of in my previous life.”
I had a feeling this man had one too many bats in his belfry. His riddles were almost as frustrating as those of the Unseelies of Mag Mell.
“Predestination?” David asked. “What do you mean by that?”
“I merely mean my new life is already written in the stars. It has always been inscribed there.”
“Oh, yeah?” I said. “So, tell us about some of your planned destinations within this predestination flight path, then.” I challenged him. We weren’t getting anywhere here, and I suspected the man knew nothing of any use, anyway. We were wasting time listening to his archaic tongue twisters, and I was losing patience. “Where are you headed? What places are you being drawn to?”
“My story isn’t presented to me in its totality. It’s the same as you, and the chief inspector, here,” he said. “Our stories unfold as and when they should, revealing our fates one moment at a time. It is only when we look back on our lives that we see the clear and undeniable patterns we’ve locked into. The paths we have walked over and over again.
I rolled my eyes.
“I have no further questions, chief,” I said, looking at my friend.
David sighed. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Jyldrar,” he said softly. “We may call upon you again.” Good. CPI Trew didn’t feel entirely satisfied with the man’s answers either. I had a feeling we’d be speaking to the drifter again. Even if it had nothing to do with Kramp’s attempted murder.
“Carbon, come on, buddy,” I said to my fireside cat. I couldn’t believe his whiskers weren’t singed he was so close to the inferno. My kitty lifted his head, looked at me, and then flopped down again. “Now!” I commanded. Carbon’s ears flattened, and he lifted himself, muttering under his breath while he stretched out his weary bones.
We snaked our way out of the cavern and up the path toward our brooms. I filled in David about what we’d found, both at Zinnie’s and Shadow Supplies. I showed him my iPhone, and he flicked through the images as I explained that the numbers marked here corresponded with the black light activated markings on the boxes at Zinnie Kramps. The chief nodded.
“So all this matches the serial numbers on the inside of the Warlock Weapon,” David said. “We have a problem here though. We didn’t have a warrant for any of this, Hat,” David explained. “We can’t use this … it’s inadmissible.”
“I know, I know, and I realize we should have used conventional methods,” I said. “But, we both know that this kind of intel would never have been shared willingly.”
David motorboated his lips. “True. I guess we can only hope that someone; some Warlock, is caught red handed with this stuff. Not that that will ever happen.”
“Did we find out from Kramp’s physician how many pills should be left in the bottle yet?” I asked, changing the subject. My mind felt like it was leaping from one random point to another. I just wished the leads would congeal a little faster.
“Spinefield left Fitzcull a message. I’d imagine we’ll find out today at some point. I don’t believe Kramp offed himself, though. It just wouldn’t make any sense.”
“I know,” I said, pulling at my chin. “What now? Wanna shoot over to North Illwind and find out a bit more about Deevie and Summer?” I knew this side-story wasn’t that pressingly relevant to the case, but my mind and heart kept wandering there.
A buzzing sound butted in before David could answer. He put his phone to his ear.
“Spinefield, what have you got?” The chief asked. His eyes widened as Spinefield relayed whatever news he had. “Are you positive? Have you triple checked with the doc?” I moved toward my friend, and mouthed “What is it?”
“No, no that’s good. As long as you’re…. Spinefield? What’s all that noise? What’s going on?” David screwed up his face, and pulled the phone away from his head. We could hear a commotion, some shouting, sounds of a scuffle. David pushed the phone back to his ear. “Spinefield?” He yelled. “What’s going on there?” The desk sergeant didn’t answer. We waited a full minute, listening to the loud scraping, noises, the shouts, sounds of pandemonium flying from the phone’s microphone.
“Come on,” David said, already running to his broom, his phone still pressed against his ear. I mounted my steed, and my kitties hopped aboard.
David was about to kick off, when he held up his finger, halting our takeoff.
“Spinefield? What the dickens is happening, man?” The chief shouted. “What? Are you serious?” My friend whirled and looked at me, his finger still aloft. “I’m on my way. Bring as many men in as you can. Do it now.” David pocketed the phone.
“What is it?” I said, searching for answers in my friend’s face.
“Three separate incidents. Nearly all at the same time.” The chief swallowed. “Three Warlocks have been brought in. All of them caught with hematite explosive devices.” Onyx, Shade, and Carbon gasped in concert. Fraidy tensed and dug his claws into my collar bone
“Impossible,” I said, shaking my head.
“Hattie, Spinefield has just personally dealt with three of them. Something’s going on.”
Understatement of the year.
“Who are they, David?” I asked, remembering the list. “Did Spinefield name any of them?”
“Beastell was one,” David said. “That’s the only name he said, though.”
I froze.
Beastell was one of the names on the list. An icy chill wafted in my chest. I stared at my friend.
“David, are we being played?”
“Seems that way, huh?” He said. “I have a feeling that Burning Peak might have been a ruse. While we’ve been wasting our time trying to fight a mythical threat, we’ve ignored the material one.” He looked at me through smudged lenses. “Hematite bombs.”
My mouth felt as dry as the bottom of a budgies cage.
“Look, I have to go,” David said.
“I know. Want me to come? As moral support?” My friend shook his head.
“You go to North Illwind. Go. I know you’re interested in this love-child story, Hat. Go for a history trip.” David offered me a wan smile and readied himself for the flight back to GIPPD.
“David!” I called before he could lift off. The chief’s eyes met mine.
“What was the first thing Spinefield told you? Before the commotion broke out, I mean?”
David’s voice was flat. Almost resigned. “There were half the amount of pills left than there should have been. It looks like Kramp overdosed.” He took to the air before I could answer, leaving me to my confusion.
Kramp committed suicide? I could hardly believe it. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense. And, yet the evidence was there. Kramp had quaffed double the amount of tablets he generally took. I let out a deep breath. I guess I’d find out more about this from David soon. I looked at my cats.
“You guys interested in a trip to Galedoom?” Already pointing my besom Northward. Just as we pushed off, a whoomph of flames jumped from the Jyldrar cavern.
“Looks like Typhon’s thrown another forest on the fire,” Carbon snipped.
We were airborne. On a flight path to North Illwind. Hopefully to find out what happened to Kramp’s little girl, Summer Greenfield.
CHAPTER 15
“See?” Fraidy shrieked as we circled over the shanties of Galedoom, looking for a suitable place to land. “See why I said I don’t do places like this? Places with ‘doom’ in their name?” My scaredy-cat, paced back and forth along the length of the broom, looking down at the sprawling ghetto below.
“You all know we’re gonna die here, right?” His eyes bulged. “This is it. This is where we meet our end.”
“Bro, you’re practically foaming at the mouth. Chill, dude, you’re making me antsy,” Shade said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t look that bad,” he finished.
I nosed the broom downward. “Woah, boss, let’s not be too hasty,” Shade bumped his head into my back. “How about over there?” Shade pointed to a spot the other side of a very long, ramshackle wall. The spot he pointed to was at the other end of the slum. “Might be a safer place to leave the broom too,” Shade encouraged. I nodded and landed the other side of the slum’s dividing line.
“Okay, now, guys,” I said, tucking my broom in a shadowy nook of the fence. “We’ve gotta try our best not to stick out like a sore thumb, cool?”
“Easy for you to say, when you’re not a talking cat,” Fraidy grumbled.
“Look, just don’t act afraid. Show no fear, walk calmly and don’t make eye contact with anyone. Are we clear on this?” Four furry heads bobbed up and down, and we stole along the fence to find entry into the Galedoom shanties.
We’d gone about ten yards when Onyx stopped. “Here,” he said. “I believe this will be a suitable embarkation point?” Onyx flicked his front paw out, and a large panel of fencing pushed inward. I gave my kitty a rub on the nose. “Nice one, buddy,” I whispered. We pushed our way through until we were standing slum-side.
“I don’t like this,” Fraidy complained. “I’ve got a funny feeling about it.”
“Sweetie, nothing’s going to happen here. We’ve left all the danger behind. Think about it.”
“Well, there’s a pair looking to mug us already,” he hissed, casting a demented sideward glance at two young men standing against a rusty door in an abandoned shop front. They had their arms folded, and their heads moved as we walked. I felt my throat go dry. “Just act natural,” I warned again, trying to keep my walking pace at a constant, casual gait.
“Killer at four o'clock,” Fraidy muttered from the side of his mouth. I turned my head a fraction, and a very well dressed man, black suit, silver tie, slicked back hair was surveying us from the other side of the road. He looked like a pimp. Goddess, I hope he didn’t think I was one of his ‘tricks.’ We kept walking our ears pricked, and our senses heightened. Luckily, not one of Fraidy’s labeled perps came after us. We crossed over a street that resembled an urban war zone. Broken down shopping carts, old clothes tossed like rags, garbage flowing in the gutters.
A shabby tenement to our right caught my attention. “Let’s go there,” I said pointing at the building.
I feel you’re correct, Seraphim.
I nodded at Onyx. Thanks, buddy. I feel it too.
“Aww, man. You think that little girl lived here?” Shade said, craning his head to take in the crumbling exterior of the building. I stabbed a buzzer number on the intercom.
We waited. No answer. I punched the number next to it.
“Who’s there?” A voice barked from the intercom.
“Oh! Yes, hello, hi,” I stammered. “My name is Hattie Jenkins. I’m looking for information about a mother and daughter who might have once lived in this building? They went by the name ‘Greenfield,’ have you heard of them?” I smiled at the intercom, hoping it’d make me sound more friendly and non threatening.
“Never ‘eard of ‘em.”
Click.
I sighed.
Try Mrs. Janowski, Onyx thought-pushed me.
I scanned the names, pushed ‘Janowski’ and stood back.
“Hello, yes?” A thin, reedy woman’s voice enquired.
“Hello, ma’am, I’m hoping to talk to somebody about a mother and daughter that once lived in the building? A Mrs. Greenacre … and her, uh, daughter, Summer?”
“You knew Deevie?” The disembodied voice flooded with palpable emotion. “Come in.” The door buzzed open, and we tiptoed into the dreary building.
The sound of a lock sliding across made me start. Right at the end of the hall, apartment number Fourteen’s door swung open, and a wizened face peeped out at the side at us.
“You’re Deevie’s friend?” She asked as we approached her apartment.
I smiled and extended my hand. “Something like that, yes. I’m Hattie Jenkins. And, you’re, presumably, Mrs. Janowski?”
The woman’s eyes were milky. Almost as if some membrane had crawled across her eyeballs, and decided to settle there.
“I’m the super,” she said. “Been here forty-six years now.”
“Wow,” I gushed. “That’s a long time.”
“I’ve seen so many people come and go,” the woman sniffed.
“I can only imagine,” I said. “So, you told me you knew Deevie? And her daughter, Summer?”
“Deevie always paid on time. I knew she had to beg, borrow and steal most months just to make the rent payments, but she always paid in full, and on time. Never had any trouble from Deevie and her girl.”
“What can you tell me about them, Mrs. Janowski?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed all of a sudden.
“Who’s asking?” She slid back behind the door and pushed it nearer to the ‘closed’ position.
“I’m an interested party, Mrs. Janowski. I believe I might know who Summer’s birth father might be, and where he is,” I half lied.
“That girl needed a father figure in her life. Her mother was as honest as the day is long, but she was a depressive sort. Could barely get herself up out of bed in the morning. Even before they took Summer away, that child was dressing herself, making her own breakfast, and walking to school alone.”
“She must have been a very brave little girl,” I said. “I wonder if you knew about Eve going to the Correctional School for Girls here in Galedoom?”
“Yes, I remember it. A harsh place that school.”
“Did you hear word from Summer after she was old enough to leave that place?” I asked. “Did you ever find out what happened to her?”
“No, I heard nothing,” the superintendent said, shaking her head. “Hopefully, she’s off working a nice relaxing job in a garden center, or a rich person’s garden, maybe?” Mrs. Janowski’s expression looked hopeful.
I chuckled. “What makes you say that Summer might like a job in a garden center?”
“Deevie had a green thumb. My word, I remember the patio tomatoes she used to give me at the end of summer,” Mrs. Janowski said fondly. “Used to pop ‘em like candy, I did.” She grinned. “Anyway’s, Deevie taught Summer everything she knew when it came to plant cures and plant foods.” She shook her head. “‘Bout the only good education Deevie gave Summer,” the superintendent lamented.
“Well, that’s great, Mrs. Janowski, I appreciate you answering my questions. Is there anything else you
can think of that might help me locate Summer?”
Janowski shrugged. “If I did, I’d tell you.”
I smiled. “Do you happen to know where I could find the Correctional School? Is it still standing?”
The superintendent bobbed her head. “I think it’s a young woman’s college now. Not much use for the kind of cruelty they used to inflict there these days,” she said. “It’s mostly about nurturing young women, in this day and age. Which is a good thing.” Mrs. Janowski raised a bony finger to emphasize her sentiment.
“I agree wholeheartedly,” I said. And, I meant it. “So, you know where I can find this woman’s college?”
“Next to Galedoom station,” she waved her hand in a vague westerly direction.
“That’s great, thank you so much. Appreciate your time today,” I said, nudging my kitties down the hall as I turned. I set one foot out the front door when Mrs. Janowski shouted: “Give the little one my love if you find her.”
“Consider it done,” I said. And, we stepped out into the dismal street once more.
We walked in silence toward the hole in the fence to the side where the broom was parked.
Fraidy was the first to speak, as we approached our entrance to the world on the other side of the slum. “Think Summer had a happy childhood?” He asked, still taking in the unpleasant surroundings. “I don’t know, honey, let’s just hope she --”
Something flew past my ear. It must have been close to my head because the high pitched whine of the missile reverberated in my ear drum.
“Did anyone see that?” I said, swiveling my head.
“See what?” My kitties asked in unison.
“Nevermind,” I said. “I guess Summer is a woman now and has most likely come to terms with --” Another rushing missile close to my right shoulder this time.
I whirled. “You saw that, right?” I hissed, crouching to my knees.
“Uh, boss, are you okay? We don’t see what --” Shades paws flew up to his head, and he lay flat on the ground. “What the heck was that?” He spat, utterly indignant at the fact that someone had taken a shot at him.
“Okay, I’m not imagining it,” I said, staying crouched. “Guys, get over here,” I ordered Onyx, Fraidy, and Carbon. They pulled in close to the wall.
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