It hit me then. “Oh, my Goddess! Is this book from the Avalon Vaults?” My face must have looked a sight because Millie guffawed. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she advised. “Thaddeus has sworn me to secrecy, though. Well, within the boundaries of the Custodians and the Friends of the Custodians, that is.”
“He’d be thrown out of the church in a heartbeat if they caught him,” I mused. “The Reverend’s risking a lot on my behalf.”
Millie snapped the book shut. I marveled at her rough-handling of the fragile artifact.
“How vain can you be?” My assistant hissed. Her face boiled a deep red, matching some cleverly infused highlights in her hair. “Peacefield isn’t doing work on your behalf! None of us are. We’re breaking canon law because our Isles and our planet are under threat. We have no choice in the matter, so it’s not really about helping out the almighty Hattie Jenkins.”
If I could have turned into smoke the way my fire-loving cat, Carbon can, I would have. Talk about embarrassing. Even I was taken off-guard by my monumental ego.
“That sounded …. wrong in so many ways,” I said. “I’m sorry, Millie, it didn’t mean to come out like that.”
Idiot.
My assistant blew out a long breath. “I know. And I’m sorry for blowing up like that. It’s just … well… see for yourself.” She waved a hand over the leather-bound volume. “I’m looking at a document that was just recently buried in the archives of the lowest of the Avalon Vaults, for Goddess’ sake! What is the world coming to that a joe-schmoe like me gets to clap eyes on such revered and sacred texts?”
You might, at this point, wonder why my friend was freaking out so much. But if you knew anything about the history of the Avalon Vaults, you’d realize what a big deal this was. The treasures of the two lowest chambers at Saint Pendragon’s church were not items the general public got to see. No, these vaults are closed off to practically everyone but the church. Only the top chamber remains open to the public. There are all kinds of historical curios, and some even grisly, but nothing with any ‘meat,’ as it were. The secrets and magical artifacts of the lower two chambers, however, allegedly contained stuff that could only come to no good in the wrong person’s hands. Our friend, the gentle vicar, Thaddeus Peacefield, was the current preaching clergyman of Saint Pens, and also the residing guardian for the Vaults. The Reverend had undoubtedly sworn an oath to protect the chambers’ contents and never to let anyone see what the underground rooms contained. But here was Millie Midge -- not even a member of the magical community, mind you -- browsing through a tome written from a distant magical age -- like it was the spring edition of Cosmo. Desperate times indeed.
“Millie Midge, come here,” I said, moving toward my friend. I intended to hug her. I’d say it was to calm her down a little, but if I’m to be honest, I think I was the one who needed placating. I drew her into me, and we both leaned in for a tight embrace. “I’m scared,” she whispered against my shoulder.
“Me too,” I said. “But, look at us …. we’re all working together. Which is exactly what we need to do. We still have a chance to find the Wyrmrig before Shields births his dragon. And with you guys coming up with alternative solutions … solutions for if we can’t get the Wymrig to play ball and join forces with us … well, we’re on the right track, right?” I pushed Millie to arm's length and looked at her. “Tell me what you’re working on right now, fireball,” I teased.
“You first, super-witch,” she giggled.
I arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, c’mon, girlfriend, you know you’ve got … something that nobody else has.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Millie.” But I had an idea. I knew everyone thought I had a power bigger than I cared to acknowledge. And I agreed with them, to a point. But I realized now that my fans had blown the whole power thing out of proportion. Why was everyone acting like I was a God or something?
“Hattie, you have an innate power inside you. You know it. Everyone knows it. Everyone can feel it for Goddess’ sake.”
“I don’t understand where everyone is getting this idea from,” I said, holding up my hands. “I can barely cast a simple baking spell.”
“You’ve unlocked most of those wards on your wand,” Millie said, sticking her chin out. “What’s that if not some kind of mega power? I mean, Hattie, that’s your late Grandma Chimera’s wand you carry, and she was known to be one of the most powerful witches around when she was alive.” Millie pointed a finger at me. “And even Chimera didn’t manage to unlock those wards. How many have you unlocked?”
Goddess, this conversation made me uncomfortable. “Four,” I mumbled.
Millie grabbed my arm and looked directly into my eyes. “Four,” she said. “Four out of five, to be precise.” My assistant sighed. “You have only one left. And maybe it’s this last ward that will help our cause somehow.”
Shaking my head, I pulled out my wand. “Millie, look,” I said, tapping the final unlocked ward on the wand. The LOVE ward. “How the dickens do you think I can save the world with LOVE magic? What, you think I’m going to love the Warlock dragon to death?”
Millie bit her laughter back, and I smiled myself. “What are you working on, follicle-of-flame?”
She cracked a sunny smile finally and pointed to the page she had been studying earlier. “I’m not really working on anything right now. I don’t even honestly know what I’m looking for. I’m just … well, I’m just following and cross-referencing any and every dragon lead I come across.”
“Hmm.” I pulled a small notepad filled with Millie’s chicken-scratch toward me and read off the first of her jotted words. “Eye of newt? Seriously?”
“Hey, I’m just taking notes … and, right now, any lead is viable.”
I grunted and continued to read through Millie’s list of strange words. “Let’s see, blood-rubies? Seafoam?”
Millie laughed. “Give me that,” she said, swiping the notebook from my hand. “If you’re just gonna tease me, you evil … witch.”
I held up my hands and giggled myself. “No, no, I swear I’m not making fun of you, Millie,” I said. “But you may want to add tongue of toad, and wing of bat to your list.”
Onyx nudged his head into my assistant’s arm. “I believe we need to explore every avenue possible to help us ward off a firestorm of a disaster, Hattie. Millie’s work here may well look … ah, ludicrously ridiculous, but one never knows … something here could prove to be invaluable.”
“At least someone is speaking sense here,” my friend scoffed, scratching O behind the ears.
“And, he’s right,” I said, this time with honesty. “We need all hands on deck right now, and who knows how we’re going to combat this threat. Keep up the good work, Millie. And I’ll be damned if your Futhark isn’t one-thousand percent better than mine. You missed your calling, girl.”
“Friend of the Custodians is more my speed, Hattie. I have zero desire to be a part of your magical community, much less your underground rebel forces. Waaay too much danger for my liking.”
“I totally get it.” I swiveled my head around the shop. “So none of the guys are back then?” The shop felt strangely empty without the rest of my furry crew.
“No,’Clipsy, Midnight and Shade are still with the Faeries. I’m not sure if they’re still on Mag Mell or not, but they said they’d go back to Portia’s with Hinrika and Vee, and see you there later for the meet-up. Fraidy and Carbon are still with David. But Chief Trew Love himself called about fifteen minutes before you guys showed up. He has some news, and you’re to meet him at Maude’s at five.”
“He found something?”
“Sounds like it. He didn’t want to get into it over the phone, so best you go and meet him.” Millie glanced at the clock. “You still have twenty minutes, so tell me what you and Portia found out. I guess you didn’t see our cowardly governor?”
I filled my assistant in on everything that ha
ppened while we were on Cathedral Isle, including our meeting with Shields and his cowering act behind his magical barrier. I also relayed the strange encounter with Dilwyn Werelamb, and his stories of Black Diamond smuggling, renegade grumlins, and the possible alternate entry into Burning Peak.
Millie stood silently, arms folded, chewing on her lip, while I retold Dilwyn’s account.
“Hmm, so you think it’s a rumor, then?” She said.
I dragged a hand through my hair. “Well, based on his conversation with one of the grumlins that’s what Dilwyn thinks. So, no, I don’t think we’re getting into the Peak anytime soon. Which will put us at a disadvantage when Shields does give life to his dragon. We need to be in the heart of the chamber in the heart of the action if you know what I mean?” My head fell forward in defeat, and I took the opportunity to roll out a couple of neck stretches. It felt as if my spine were made of cervical granite, which, in turn, made my muscles contract in a series of painful bunches. I stretched left and looked at my assistant. “I’m serious, Millie, It’s really gotta be a case of ‘What happens in the chamber stays in the chamber.’ We have to keep the chaos contained.”
Millie’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O,’ and she breathed out a controlled plume of air through the circle of her lips. “Wow, that all sounds rather adventurous. Rather you than me, my friend.”
“Well, as I said, we’re not getting in soon, so your point is … moot.” I paused and arched a villainous eyebrow, and finished with: “My friend.”
Millie snorted laughter, which made me laugh too. When Millie’s free of worry, it’s like being buffeted by a playful breeze. The vibrations this fiery-haired beauty gives off … from her ease, good humor and expansive heart can be viscerally felt in your whole being. Millie Midge is the consummate evaporator of bad moods and hinky juju.
“Ahem,” Gloom interrupted. She cast a paw to the clock. “Hadn’t we better get a move on and meet your lover boy at the Coroner’s?” Jet let out a high pitched squeal and bounced like a deranged spring around the shop. “Yep, yep, better be quick about it too, yep. Carbon’ll munch through all the salmon treats, yep.” Maude Dulgrey kept high-grade nibbles on hand for my cats. The Infiniti adored the loveable ghoul … I mean, in the eyes of a cat, what wasn’t to like about our coroner friend? She was affectionate, but she also knew when to give my kittie’s space. She handed out belly rubs, cheek scratches, and crunchy treats with her trademark altruistic grace and uncanny intuition. She also let Carbon sleep next to the boiler in the below floor caverns of Maude’s facility. Maude Dulgrey’s boiler room was probably Carbons’ favorite place in the world.
I sighed and picked up my bag from the counter and looked at my assistant. “You going to be okay closing up?”
“You know it,” she said. “I’m going to prepare a few orders for delivery tomorrow before I leave. I’ve ordered some comfrey, a new vat of witch hazel and a batch of dried rosehips. Other than that we’re pretty stocked up on everything else.”
“You’re the best.”
“That much is true,” Millie said, poking her tongue out at me.
With my three cats in tow, I left through the front door of the Angel. Maude’s was only a short distance from the Angel, and I thought the walk might do us some good.
“I wonder what Chief Para Inspector Trew might have found, Hattie?” Onyx said, trotting by my ankles with his usual precise gait.
“I hope it’s something that puts Shields behind bars, O.”
“We already have enough on him to dump him in Steeltrap,” Gloom posited. “But what good has that done us so far? How can we catch a killer when he hides behind magic and technology?” I knew it was best not to engage my kitty when she was so irritable. I stared at my feet instead, and walked in silence the rest of the way to Maude’s.
David and Maude had found something, I was sure of it. I just hoped that whatever it was , it wouldn’t feel like a violent punch to the stomach.
“Would you believe I found it in his hair?” Maude said, raising her mangey brows. Using a pair of specialist tweezers, she held the evidence under a full-spectrum light magnifying glass. I squinted at the artifact. “What do you mean you found it in his hair?” I asked, leaning in for a better look. “It is his hair, isn’t it?”
Maude twirled the delicate filament under the light. It glittered under the illumination.
“There!” Maude exclaimed, demonstrating the sparkling quality to the thread-like item.
A tiny glint of light bounced off the surface of the strand and pierced my vision. I leaned back in reflex. “Wow, it’s so….fine. It looks just like hair,” I said, leaning in again to peer at the near enough non-existent matter.
“Indeed,” Maude said, smiling brilliantly. “Warlock tech, no less. We’re seeing a sizeable chunk of it these days, wouldn’t you agree?” Maude returned her fond gaze to the tiny article. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I mean these specks of Black Diamond contain so much information.” She looked at me over the rim of her glasses, her milky eyes large and dancing with barely concealed excitement. “Do you know that there are over two weeks of young Orville’s movements recorded in these tiny grains?” Maude shook her head and clucked her tongue behind her teeth. “Incredible. This thing tracked Nugget’s movements over the space of fourteen days, and yet there’s enough space in its core to track a person’s every move for a lifetime.”
I shrugged. Maybe I should have been as blown away by this device’s advanced tech as Maude clearly was, but I just felt irritated. All this scientific claptrap was getting pretty tiring if I’m to be honest. It was all completely above my head. “That’s progress, I guess,” I said.
David, who had been standing on the other side of Maude’s desk, watching us discuss the wonders of technology, ran a hand through his white-streaked hair. “Makes you wonder though, right?” He said. “Just how many applications this Black Diamond has. I mean, we’ve now seen it as an explosive device, a super-amped electrical conductor, a … green-glowing-killing-thing, and now a tracker?”
Maude whistled through her teeth and shook her head. “It’s true, CPI Trew. It’s a multifaceted piece of hardware, that’s for sure.” The coroner scratched her fuzzy chin. “Maybe I should get a hold of this technology myself … might help things run more smoothly in the lab.”
A pained groan came from the corner of Maude’s workshop as Hector Muerte moaned his displeasure at his boss’s statement.
“Relax, dear,” Maude chimed. “I don’t mean to replace you, you big old oaf. I just mean maybe a piece of tech like this could catalog my paperwork a little more efficiently.” The ghoul coroner waved a bony finger across the towers of moldy paper stacks to prove her point. Hector grunted and shambled off to attend to whatever chores he had been assigned.
“You forgot making a dragon,” I mumbled.
David looked at me. “What?”
“Making a dragon,” I said. The Black Diamond is also behind the creation of Shield’s tech dragon.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, that too.”
My irritation grew as I cast my mind back to all the terrible ways we had seen this Black Diamond in action. First, it was celebrity eco-warrior, Millicent Ponds. That was the first time we had seen BD used for anything other than tourist paraphernalia.
Millicent, at the time of her horrific ‘frazzling’ death, had been wearing a Black Diamond pendant. This particular piece of jewelry had been given to her by Shields, by the way. A publicity stunt to show concerned voters that he was behind Millicent’s campaign for fair treatment for the Rock Grumlins. Ms. Ponds’ Black Diamond necklace had served as some kind of supra-conductor when a bolt of lightning had hit the poor earth activist.
Moving on to the next application we had seen ... the Warlock Weapon -- a kind of Black Diamond bomb used in an attempt to silence convicted killer, Barnabus Kramp. Kramp, however, actually died from a massive heart attack -- thanks to his bitterly estranged daughter, Eve Fernacre -- just moments before
the Black Diamond device did its worst.
Our beloved Orville was the gem’s next victim. Killed by a spinning diamond that pulsed a lethal, green light. This latest murder was only made possible because of the final piece of Warlock-made BD tech: A Black Diamond bug, as undetectable as a hair follicle, weaved into Orville’s own hair for the best part of two weeks. And as soon as the brilliant teen had joined the the Custodians for my induction into the brethren, the device that killed him had been beckoned. Inside I seethed. Taking the life of a gifted teen was bad enough, but the fact Shields had intended to kill all of us in one fell swoop, made my blood rush like a torrent of acid through my veins.
I looked at David, and another surge of anger coursed through my body. I was pretty certain that BD was also doing a number on the man I loved. The chief’s strange behavior and general poor health of late seemed to point toward the nefarious governor of Cathedral. And wherever Gideon Shields was, so was his precious Black Diamond.
A sharp buzz from my left pocket made us all jump, as my cell phone trilled its presence.
“It’s Midnight Hill again,” I said, looking dumbly at the display.
David peered at me over his glasses. “Cressida’s really in the mood for talking, it seems.”
“I’ll get in touch with her when things have calmed down a little,” I said, tapping ‘end call.’
As much as I didn’t feel good about ignoring her cry for attention, Cressida Dreddock’s flights of fancy would have to wait. There’d be plenty of time after the apocalypse for listening to the mad witch’s paranoid ramblings.
“Probably a good idea,” the chief confirmed, wiping a hand over his face again. I marveled briefly how the exhaustion pummeling my friend could drag so heavily on his features. How every line around his mouth looked sharp and deep. He looked at the clock on the wall behind Maude’s head. David had stopped wearing watches -- timepieces had mysteriously stopped working around my friend at about the same time his poor health had reared its ugly head. “We should probably think about heading out to Gaunt Manor to meet the others.”
Moggies, Magic and Murder Page 65
