Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  Something sparked inside my head. “Yes,” I said, closing my eyes to recall the faded memory better. “Grandma Chimera … she mentioned it a couple of times. A Warlock run space program, right? The goal was to try and get the Warlock population to Mars or something? So they could have their own world to rule?”

  Vee nodded. “That sounds familiar, yes. I seem to remember something about the Warlocks pioneering their own space agency …. but that was … Goddess, that must have been back in the seventies.”

  Carpathia gasped. “Darling, why you don’t look a day over twenty! I can barely believe you’ve been around since the seventies!” The vampire gave Verdantia a playful bump with her elbow. “We’re practically twinsies too! I’m a child of the seventies, myself. Sixteen-seventy-four, to be exact.”

  “Getting back on track,” Portia snapped, turning her attention to the beautiful fairy. “You’re correct, Verdantia. Only the program was fired up in the fifties. It took a decade for it to hit the news, though.”

  “Sorry, what’s the Warlock Space Agency got to do with anything? I thought they’d closed their doors back in the eighties, anyway,” David said.

  “No, they just pulled back from releasing any press statements. They’ve been in silent operation this whole time, it would seem.”

  “Uh, sorry, I’m totally lost here …. Is this like ‘shop talk?’ Do you guys want us to wait outside?” Millie Midge asked of the Custodians.

  I put a hand on my assistant’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Millie, I’m only marginally ahead of you in understanding, myself,” I said. “Portia, can you tell us what’s on your mind?”

  “The WSA, or Warlock Space Agency heralded the opening of the ROP or Red Orb Program back in the sixties. It was a big event, much fanfare et cetera. The Warlocks opened the agency especially for the Red Orb Program, in fact. They were nothing if not deadly serious about getting their kind to their own planet.” The Witch Fearwyn paused, looking at each of us in turn.

  “Anyway, they were in the news constantly for the following ten years or so. The WSA had tech journalists tied in knots of frustration. The press couldn’t get clear answers from the WSA as to what technology they were using for getting people to space. At the time -- and, goodness, even now -- NASA hasn’t landed a manned flight on the red planet. But the WSA, much like the human’s NSA, guarded their secrets with a kind of zealous jealousy.

  David held up his hands at this point. “Okay, okay, it’s great that we’re getting a little history lesson here in Warlock space exploration, but seriously, what does this have to do with anything?”

  “Because Shields kept making strange references about shooting for the stars, and that he might not be available for jail time at Steeltrap.” I paused. “And it would seem now, if what Portia’s driving at is true, that the governor may still have his toes dipped in space exploration and the Red Orb Program.”

  “You think that’s why Shields is being so overtly upfront about his dirty deeds? Because he plans to take off to the heavens?” Vee asked.

  Hinrika was overcome with another flash of indignant anger. “Terrible man!”

  Fraidy chipped in with a sensible question. “What I don’t understand is, if the Warlock Chief was gunning for world domination by way of dragon destruction, then why would he flee the planet that he had just made kowtow to his rule?”

  “Now, that is a good question,” David said, reaching down to give Fraidy an ear rub. “If the governor is hinting that he’ll escape to outer space, well, it just doesn’t seem to make any sense. I mean, he has everything here on earth that he needs, right? Money, power, black diamonds, killer tech, a faithful cabinet.” David shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

  Portia sighed. “Well, he doesn’t have total dominion here on Earth. And for one who is as ambitious as Gideon Shields, I wouldn’t put it past him that he might want a planet and its citizens under his own reign exclusively.”

  The chief made a scoffing sound in his throat. “I’m not arguing that Shields might want total power, but why go to the trouble of attempting to bring Earth to its knees just to flee it?”

  we might not know the reason, but let’s just trust that the governor does have a reason

  The table, which we were all gathered around, jumped as Hinrika brought her fist down hard on its surface. “Terrible man!” The Queen of the Faeries really did think that Shields was a terrible man.

  “Guys, I don’t mean to be rude, but maybe we shouldn’t spend too much time on the governor’s motives and intentions right now. We all know he’s evil, and we all know he’s likely going to keep dishing out the evil deeds, so let’s just let that rest for a bit, and work with the concrete facts we have. Sound good?”

  Midnight head bonked my elbow. “You’re so clever, boss-lady,” he said, looking up at me with adoring eyes.

  Portia sighed. “‘Clever’ might be going a bit overboard, but suffice to say, Seraphim is right on this. Let us begin. What do we have so far?”

  A loud scratching noise came from the shadowy corner of the room. Eclipse was beating up his invisible foe and making a lot of noise about it too.

  Middie, momentarily distracted by his brother’s investigation, padded into the middle of the room. “Lady?” He said, looking up at the Witch Fearwyn. “I’ve been following along and taking mental notes.” Midnight tapped the side of his head with his paw. “If you’ll allow me to give the rundown?”

  Portia’s eyes narrowed on my night-roaming kitty. “Which one are you? You’re not that antsy-pants cat with the catnip and self-control issues, are you?

  “Nope, nope, that’s me, yep!” Jet burbled, already springing to his feet for some swift action of any kind.

  Portia’s head recoiled at Jet’s statement, but she ignored my kitty and gestured to Midnight to take the floor. Which Middie did. And with a satisfaction that only a proud cat could know.

  He bowed. “Ladies and gents, if you please, here is the story so far, only in a smart-cat condensed version.”

  “Oh, get on with it,” Gloom sniped, washing her ears as Midnight’s power play played out.

  “Okay, Shields’ attempted murder spree is out in the open. The governor doesn’t even try to hide the fact … which can only mean that he has another trick up his sleeve. Whether this is a flight to Mars or not, is by the by right now. We can get back to that once we find out what the governor’s intentions might be. But we can be certain the ‘terrible man,’ as Hinrika would say, is guilty of Orville’s murder.”

  “Do carry on, brother,” Onyx encouraged Middie.

  “Thanks, O,” Midnight said. “Okay, so a guilty governor we have. We also know from the Mag Mell trip and talking to Ankou, that the Unseelie’s are still in thick with the Warlock Chief, and are not prepared to give away the governor’s secrets just yet. However, said governor is likely going to double cross Mag Mell and the Unseelie Court. Again, we don’t know how Shields will pull his shifty maneuver, we just know from what Ankou says, that it’s likely.

  Currently, Mag Mell and specifically the Unseelie Court is holding the unborn dragon there. We assume this dragon will be released into the heart of the Glimmers via a faery portal. As of this moment, we know that Burning Peak is surrounded by Shields’ men and that the waterfall entry we had our hopes on, will not be accessible for at least another two weeks. Which gives Shields the advantage. Again.”

  I smiled and nodded at Midnight. I have to say I was pretty impressed with his retaining and ordering of all the facts. I guess, this being our eighth murder investigation in as many months, my cat-of-the-night had gotten pretty good with cataloging facts and leads.

  Midnight nodded at Maude then. “Hey, Maude!” He said chirpily. Our coroner friend gave Middie a smile of pink gums and threw him a salmon treat. “So, our Lady Dulgrey here found a tracking device in Orville’s hair. Once again, another piece of advanced Warlock tech gleaned from the innate power of the Black Diamonds.”

  Holy Moly, this
guy’s on fire! “We have seven dragon steel helmets ready, but no body armor. And, also no head protection for our wee scared bro, here,” Midnight said, pointing directly at a quaking Fraidy. “But, Artemis is working on this, and we, the Infiniti, should be covered soon enough, ‘cos Artie is nothing if not smart.”

  Artemis’ gaze cast downward. “Um, actually, I don’t know if we will have the finished product done anytime soon, Middie” he confessed. “I’ve, uh, run into some problems with the numbers, I’m afraid.” Artemus looked at his feet. “I … I ... thought I was pretty capable at math, but, dear Goddess, it turns out Orville Nugget was nothing short of genius.” Gabrielle rubbed his arm, and I overheard her whisper. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, my dear. You’ve worked very diligently on this.”

  “Listen to your woman there,” David offered suddenly. “We all know how much effort you’ve put into this. Plus, you’ve been more than helpful with the device that killed young Nugget.”

  “Yes, dear,” Gabrielle murmured. “You’ve come up trumps with verifying that it was tachyon tech used in that device.” Artemis leaned over and kissed Gabrielle’s flour dusted cheek, and then turned to us. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot.” He looked at my helmetless kitty. “Fraidy, I’m sorry I’ve come up short with the helmet, but don’t worry, I won’t be resting until I’ve got it. You guys … well, you’re our only hope, so I’m going all out on this.”

  “Thank you, Mr. C-c-caves,” Fraidy stammered quietly.

  The sound of Portia clearing her throat got all our attention. “Ahem, if you don’t mind, I think I would -- and, I surprise myself here -- prefer if the cat continued. He’s doing an okay job of reigning in our focus.” Midnight beamed and wasted no time in resuming his conclusions so far. He strutted the floor this time, arching an occasional brow, swinging the odd paw, stroking his chin in ponderous thought.

  “We know from Dilwyn’s recon that the pressure of the waterfall behind Burning Peak likely won’t be at a manageable level by the time we need to climb it. At least for another couple of weeks, anyway. Which we all know is too late.” Midnight held one paw aloft; one toe rocketing skyward. “But!” He exclaimed. “We also know there’s a rumor of another entrance. An entrance known to an alleged renegade grumlin who’s apparently illegally trading in Black Diamonds. Dilwyn’s boy, Lye, found this out while enjoying a brewski at the Moon.”

  “Styx,” Dilwyn said. “Lye is still in prison.” The farmer shuffled his feet awkwardly. My heart went out to the man. Everyone in the room knew how much he loved his twin boys, and everyone knew what a handful the boys could be. Dilwyn tried his best, but his delinquent teens still managed to find trouble at every turn. The only miracle was that Styx wasn’t incarcerated too. I knew David turned as much of a blind eye as he could on the twins dodgy dealings, but Lye got in too deep back when Orville’s dad, Aurel Nugget, was killed. Lye Werelamb had been paid to break into Aurel’s lab and scatter evidence around until the room dripped in an orgy of falsified proof. Poor kid had no choice but to serve a stint in Steeltrap, and I knew it just about broke Dilwyn’s heart.

  “Yeah, sorry, Dilwyn. I don’t know how you tell them apart, but I meant Styx,” Midnight offered, giving Dilwyn a full body rub along his shins. “Anyway, we think this hidden entrance is likely just codswallop. The head honcho of the cave systems there at Burning Peak knows nothing of a secret passage so it would seem unlikely that this entrance is a … ‘thing.’”

  “Uh, actually I have some news on that,” Dilwyn said. He rummaged in his pocket and brought out a closed fist. “Okay, Styx wasn’t exactly honest with me when he told me about the diamond smuggling grumlin at the Moon. He had told me he just overheard the conversation.” Werelamb unfurled his hand to reveal a palm of black, shiny gems. “Found these in his room,” he said. “So if these diamonds are anything to go by, then it would seem that there could well be another entrance/exit point.” Dilwyn looked at the chief. “CPI Trew, is there any chance you can overlook this misdemeanor?” He pleaded with David. If Dilwyn lost Styx to Steeltrap, then it would literally break the poor man. The chief gave the farmer a wan smile. “Dilwyn, I think it’s fair to say that we have bigger fish to fry right now. Rest assured, I have nothing more than a blind eye on Styx, okay?”

  Dilwyn gave a shaky laugh. “Appreciated, chief, thanks.”

  “Now that we have played happy families here, can we get back to the cat?” Portia waved a pale hand at Midnight. Clearly, he was getting the job done in a way that satisfied the prickly witch’s efficient sensibilities.

  “Lady, I have a name you know? Maybe as me, my bro’s and my sis are all working alongside you now, you’ll address us properly instead of just ‘cat’ all the time. How would you like it if we called you cat?”

  Portia’s brows knitted in confusion. “I imagine I’d be largely unmoved if you decided to call me cat.” She said. “On account of it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of sense, so, please …. Nightcat, will you continue with your ordered observations?” Middie stared at Portia, while banging his tail in a series of hearty thumps on the floor. He let the name error slide, though.

  Pinning Portia with a wary sideward glance, Middie continued. “Okay, so it looks like there may be a way into Burning Peak through the waterfall, after all,” he said. “Something we need to check out. And, soon, right?”

  “That will be happening, Middie, don’t worry,” David said. “Dilwyn? You up for another potentially dangerous trip to Cathedral? If we meet any grumlins, then we’ll likely need your help translating their sign language. Grumlins didn’t use their vocal chords for interspecies communication. Instead, they signed their language, snipping at the air with their razor-like fingers in a flourish of swift gestures. Which is why we needed Werelamb senior as a translator.

  Dilwyn nodded. “I’ll bring a backup broom this time. Just let me know when ‘n’ I’ll be there.”

  Another round of scratching came from the corner. Eclipse lay stretched out on his side, digging away at something out of sight. “If it’s helpful, I noticed that the security is less frenetic in the afternoon. Don’t know why that is, but there are way fewer guards on the ground by the time noon rolls around.”

  “Good intel, Dilwyn,” I said. “Okay, so we’ll start the search after midday then.”

  “We’ll need some other strong bodies,” David said, casting a slow gaze around the room. “If there are any boulders or rocks to be moved around the falls, then we’re going to need muscle.” The landlord of the Fingernail Moon stepped forward which made the chief chuckle. “Horace Mangler, my man, you were made for this job. Welcome aboard.” Horace reached out for David’s extended hand and pumped it vigorously, his cheeks blooming in scarlet flushes from both booze and embarrassment. “Oh, get away wid ya, chief,” he boomed, as his hamhock hand continued to pump David’s. “Maudie ‘ere will tell ya; I ain’t nothin’ but a big ol’ pussycat. But, hey, maybe Shields’ cronies don’t need ta know dat, right?”

  Maude’s face lit up like a belisha beacon; even her pale scalp glowed pink under the wisps of her stringy hair. I’m pretty sure I’d never seen the coroner look so happy. The corners of Maude’s lips nearly touched her eyes, her smile was so wide. I briefly tried to picture this odd couple fox-trotting around Saint Pendragon’s church hall on dance night, but couldn’t quite hold the imagery. I just couldn’t conceptualize how Maude pranced to music on two left feet. Yet somehow this peculiar couple managed to get down to everything from the Waltz to the Tango.

  Beyond heartwarming, I swear.

  Portia clapped her hands. “Okay, folks, so what else. I think Night-cat has reached the end of the line with his observations, yes? And, I’d have to say that he did a fairly competent job too.” She turned her head toward Midnight. Middie puffed out his chest. “Respect,” he said, flying his banner tail.

  The Witch Fearwyn turned to some of our newest additions. “As we know, Artemis has verified that the spinning device is Warlock-tachyon-te
ch, so that’s that. He is currently still trying to get the rats ... sorry, cats, kitted out with the armor. Keep us abreast of your developments, please, Mr. Caves.” Artemis nodded. “And, Gabrielle, Millie and our good Reverend Peacefield here, are looking into the ancient texts of the Avalon Vaults to see if there’s a way we can disable Shields’ monster before all hell breaks loose.” Portia turned to Thaddeus, and then quickly looked away, but not before her cheeks blossomed pink again. “Um, yes … where was I? Oh, yes. How are you all getting along with your research? Have you found anything worthwhile yet?”

  Millie opened her mouth to speak, but Portia interrupted her. Still not looking at our peaceable vicar, she mumbled: “Thad … excuse me, Reverend Peacefield, I mean. We’d like to thank you personally for taking such a great risk. We understand that your breaking of canon law so we can access the wisdom of the Vaults, could land you in no end of hot water. We all know full well, that you’d not only lose your position at Saint Pendragons, but they could strip you of all religious ties to the church too. So, yes, a big thank you to you for your efforts.”

  Peacefield shook his head. “Nonsense, Ms. Fearwyn, nonsense,” he said. “These are unusual and dangerous times. If I need to explain to the church that our planet depends on this research, I will. Don’t you worry about me.” The vicar looked at Portia briefly and then dropped his head a little. “And, please, call me Thaddeus.”

  I noticed Millie beaming at this cute exchange, and, I confess, it brought a smile to my face too.

  “Millie,” I said, “Tell everyone what you’re working on right now.” My assistant looked startled at having been suddenly thrown into the limelight. “Oh! Oh, seriously, it’s nothing really.” She gave each of us a sheepish glance, which belied the power of her flaming hair. “To be honest, as I told Hattie earlier, I don’t even know what I’m looking for yet. I’m really just breaking apart some old Futhark and looking for clues, but as of yet …. I only have a series of vague ideas, so nothing worth reporting right now.”