Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “Wanna know why?” Cressida said.

  “No, we’re just here for our health,” Eclipse said.

  “‘Clipsy, be nice,” I cautioned. I looked at Cressida. “Probably because I was snooping around his personal advisor and killing-machine?” I asked, pretending to be pretty chilled out about the shocking news Cressida had just delivered. Inside my head I screamed, believe me.

  Cressida battered the air with a limp hand. “No, it wasn’t your sleuthing skills, Hattie. It was because the Warlock Chief was scared of your power.”

  “My power?” Knock me down with a feather, so now the evil Warlock knows of my immense power too?

  “Yes, your power. Gideon sensed your inner might on your very first meeting with him. And it unsettled the governor, that’s for sure. If he had succeeded in getting Mari Falk to kill you, then his reasons would have been something along the lines of ‘just nipping things in the bud, just in case.’” I stared at Cressida. My mouth worked, but no intelligible words came out. “I … I … he ..I can’t ..” David reached across and lay his hand on my forearm. Luckily no shock this time. He stroked my arm until his hand was on mine. He took it in his and squeezed. “Cressida, I think Hattie’s going to need a little time to digest what you just said, and I don’t want to gloss over it, not in the least,” he said, looking directly in my eyes. “But Hattie’s still here. She’s alive. So I think we should continue with the body count for now.”

  Shade agreed with the chief. “Yeah, let’s rack ‘em up. We all know our witch-owner has superpowers. Nugget senior’s up next,” he said, settling into a comfy position on David’s lap again.

  “Very well,” Nebula Dreddock’s twin said breathily. “Aurel Nugget died because he was too clever for his own good. Aurel’s finesse for alchemy was known across the world, not just the Covens,” she said. “Shields knew Aurel was a member of the Custodians, and he knew the Golden Chair was looking to forge dragonsteel. If you know anything about Gideon, you’d know that he doesn’t enjoy a level playing field. There was no way the Warlock Chief was standing by while the good guys made something that might protect them against the governor’s ill deeds.”

  “And, Shields knew that Norris Copperhead would do anything to be Golden Chair of the Alchemical Society. Norris had always seethed over the fact that his mild-mannered friend, Aurel, was the one voted in for the illustrious position,” David said.

  “You’re really seeing the pattern now, chief,” Cressida said.

  David sighed, checking his wrist for the time. But he’d stopped wearing watches nearly a month ago. Ever since my friend had started exhibiting strange symptoms, his timepieces displayed their own odd behaviors. Recently all of David’s watches either gained time, lost time or stopped time. So the chief gave up wearing them.

  “Morag Devlin’s next,” I said, my voice a little shaky. I was still reeling from what Cressida had told me earlier, but I needed to stay focused, nonetheless.

  “Hmmm-mmm,” Cressida hummed. “Do you want to try this one yourselves?”

  David and I looked at each other. He gave a small nod. “Um, okay,” I said. “Well, we know from Morag’s murder investigation that she knew one heck of a lot about Shields and his business. She also was the first to know the governor had his dragon in the making.” I paused. “But Shields trusted Morag. A lot. Morag must have had a change of heart or something. Maybe she felt guilty, maybe she thought the dragon was taking things a bit too far, and she wanted out.” I paused. “But once on the inside of the governor’s cabal, there is no ‘out.’ Shields would have felt he had no choice but to kill anyone who dared to leave the fold.’”

  “Yessss, keep going. What about the murderer?”

  “Barnabus Kramp,” David muttered. Cressida and I turned to him. “Shields would have poked around in both Morag’s and Barnabus’ affairs, found out that the two had had a relationship and that Morag was one bitter bunny when it ended. “

  “Yesss, aaand?”

  “Cue our beloved mayor, Sincerity Jones,” David said. Ah, yes, I remember now how Barnabus Kramp had been very quick to switch his affections from Morag to Ms. Jones. It didn’t take long for Morag to find out about Kramp’s and the mayor’s ‘get-togethers.’ Morag took all of two seconds to start in with the blackmail campaign. Kramp, scared that his embittered ex would tell his wife, Zinnie, had had no choice but to send regular hush-money payments to Morag. David continued with my line of thinking. “Shields knew Morag was blackmailing Kramp … which made for a perfect motive for Kramp to want Ms. Devlin dead.”

  Cressida, on her haunches now, like a big orange buzzard, flapped her arms at her sides. “Bingo!” She shouted. “Right, who’s next in the line of the dead?” Cressida Dreddock looked far too exuberant for such a grim topic. The old witch threw her head back and cackled, the dark, stringy veins in her neck standing out in relief against her pale skin. She bird-walked to the end of her cot, and hopped up onto the end, right back into the birdlike pose we found her in.

  David’s eyes darkened. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Shade tensed on his lap. “This isn’t a game, Ms. Dreddock. We are talking about people’s lives here.”

  Cressida’s eyes widened. “No, we’re not! We’re talking about people’s deaths here!” Her voice cracked up into a gravelly laugh. The chief tried to stand; to confront Cressida about her distasteful behavior, but Shade turned and put a paw on David’s chest. My cat shook his head, and twirled a paw at his temple, telling the chief that Cressida wasn’t ‘all there,’ and not to make a big deal out of it. David got the hint, and gave Shade a little cheek scratch by way of thanks. The chief looked at Cressida. “Barnabus Kramp, Shields’ criminal lawyer.” He paused, squeezed his eyes shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “So I guess Shields pried into Kramp’s background, found out about his love-child, Eve Fernacre, and puppeteered Eve just like the others until she found a way to Kramp so she could kill him. Am I right?” Cressida bobbed a vulpine head.

  “The only thing I don’t get though … is why the governor wanted Kramp dead. I mean, sure, Barnabus knew some pretty sensitive stuff about Gideon, but Kramp had never given any kind of indication that he would blow the governor’s cover. Kramp remained true to the end, from what I understood.”

  “You’re right on all counts, Chief Para Inspector,” Cressida said.. “And this also brings us to Gideon Shields current state of mind.” The crazy woman extended her arms out to the sides and circled her hands for no apparent reason whatsoever. “To be certain, Gideon has always been a psychopathic sociopath … but, ever since Morag, his paranoia has grown exponentially. You see, the governor had no need to kill Barnabus. Ol’ Barney would have taken Shields’ secrets to the grave.”

  “And, Or-orville?” Fraidy’s voice was a mere quiver.

  “Ah, well, kitty, you see, technically Shields wanted ALL of you dead. Orville was just the unlucky one in this case. Shields’ motive, though? In one word: Paranoid Schizophrenia.”

  “That’s two words,” Shade said.

  Cressida’s glazed eyes fixed on Shade.“Well, let’s follow those two words with another two words then, shall we: Shields doesn’t care about being found out anymore. He has some scheme cooking up in the background that he believes will be his ticket to freedom, and we can only hope that Sparky uncovers what that scheme may be.”

  “You messin’ with my head, lady?” Shade demanded. “That was, like, at least two hundred words right there.”

  Fraidy jumped onto my lap and put a paw on my arm. “The governor wanted you dead twice now, Hattie. I somehow think he’ll keep going until he gets you. Can we go now, please?

  I bent down and kissed my scaredy-cat between the eyes. “Shh now, sweetie. There’s no way Gideon Shields is winning this battle. Now’s the time we stick together and defeat this slimeball.”

  “Yeah,” Shade said. “Two words: We’re gonna kick the governor’s ass.”

  I looked at my watch. The hand was already n
udging toward noon. “David,” I said softly. “It’s time we left.” My stomach felt heavy. I knew we had to go to Cathedral to see for ourselves if this hidden tunnel into Burning Peak really did exist, but I didn’t want David Trew coming along for the ride. I knew I was about to be torn up by his ever-worsening condition. The closer to Cathedral my friend got, the worse his symptoms would become. It was just too much. David nodded.

  “Ms. Dreddock, thanks so much for your time today. Your intel’s been invaluable, to say the least.”

  “Oh, don’t thank me, dear,” Cressida said. “This is all Sparky’s doing.”

  “Yes, of course. Well, if Sparky finds anything interesting in Shields’ bank ledgers let us know.”

  “You can bank on it.”

  “Or anything about the Red Orb Program. Let us know if your friend uncovers anything there too.”

  “ROP and Bank of Alchemy,” Cressida confirmed. “I’ll make sure to tell Sparky to focus on those two files. Now you two get along. I can see you have pressing matters to deal with. Don’t worry about me now. I’ll be seeing you on the outside soon. I’ve no doubt you’ll be in need of an extra pair of hands when the time comes.”

  David smiled, shook his head and walked away from Cressida’s cell. He took one step then turned back. “Ms. Dreddock, one last thing,” he said. “Do you happen to know where Shields’ test site is located? For the ROP program?”

  “North Illwind, dear. Somewhere deep in the Drakon Dunes. An excellent location … it’s vast, and the whole region imposes a no-fly zone.”

  David nodded, but said nothing, and together we made our way down the corridor, each of us engulfed in our own thoughts about what Cressida had just shared with us. Unlike my friend, I was also burdened with feelings about David’s wellbeing. If only there were a way I could deter him from coming …

  The shrill bell of David’s phone cut off my thoughts. “Spinefield?” CPI Trew listened, his face tightening with each passing second. “When?” He said. “Right by the cliffs?” I raised an eyebrow in question, but the chief ignored me. “Good man, Spinefield. I’ll see you there shortly. Make sure the fire crews know where it started. Yes, uh-huh. Okay, great, see you soon.” He clicked end call.

  “What’s up?” I said.

  “A massive forest fire near the Myrdwen cliffs. Just reported five minutes ago. I can’t come with you to Cathedral.”

  Yay! “Oh my Goddess!” I gasped. “Is it … is it … containable?”

  David looked at me and sighed. “Hat, I just got the call. You know as much as I do … but ….”

  “But what?”

  “The drifter. Typhon Jyldrar, was spotted running away from the scene.”

  I clasped a hand to my mouth. “You think … you think Jyldrar could be the …. Wyrmrig?”

  David opened his mouth, but hesitated. “I … I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “But the fire?” I tried. “Remember when we visited Jyldrar at the cliffs? He had that raging inferno going inside one of the caves, right?”

  Shade tapped David’s shin. “Yeah, chief. The drifter even said at the time how much he loved fire.”

  A high pitched whine came from Fraidy. “Oh, Bast, oh, Bast, Jyldrar … he had that … that reptile kind of tattoo on his chest and throat.”

  My spine surged with electricity.

  “Okay, guys, can it, will you?” David said, striding through the exit doors of Midnight Hill. “Stop jumping the gun. We don’t know anything for certain yet.” The chief looked at me. “Hat, be careful on Cathedral, okay? Stick close to Portia at all times. I’ll get in touch with you later and let you know about this fire business. We can share our news then.”

  With that, David left to investigate a forest of flames, and I headed toward Cathedral to meet the rest of the crew at the base of the Glimmers to see if we could find this rumored passage.

  I wondered who would find what first? Would we see an alternate way into Burning Peak? Or would David discover that Jyldrar was the carrier of the Elder Code? Whatever happened within the next few hours, it was clear we were getting closer to something. The jumble of puzzle pieces seemed to be getting tantalizingly closer together.

  Could we really be just one or two steps away from identifying the Wymrig AND finding a way into Burning Peak?

  CHAPTER 11

  “See anything, Horace?” I shouted over the raging torrent. Horace’s head broke the surface for the fourth time, and the big man gulped for air before shaking his head. The barkeeper looked utterly spent. “Nay, Hattie!” He hollered, treading water. I was amazed he could keep his giant bulk afloat. “Water’s rushin’ pretty damned fast down there so I cannae see much. Just gonna catch me breath ‘ere for a second, and I’ll get back down there.” Horace’s meaty hands acted as propellers at his side. “Horace, are you sure you’re okay?” I was a little concerned at how flushed the man's face was. “Oh, aye, Hattie, no problem. I only wish this ‘ere pool was filled with beer, but I reckon beggars cannae be choosers.” The Moon’s landlord went under again.

  I tried to stay focused on the task at hand, but my mind kept pulling me back to Cressida Dreddock’s revelations about the murders and it being the governor that connected all the killings. I hadn’t had a chance to speak to Portia about it yet, but I was eager to find out what the Witch Fearwyn would have to say about it all when we had our next Custodian meeting.

  “We don’t have much time,” Portia called down to me. The old witch stood atop an adjacent rock, her wand held high. Verdantia Eyebright and Hinrika Jonsdottir completed the wand-yielding triangulation. Both fairies positioned at a three-pointed angle to Portia mimicked the Witch Fearwyn’s wand stance. Between them they had summoned the Clearcloak spell; a charm that gave the bearer and her subjects complete invisibility. We were safe. For now. The Clearcloak was doing its job, but it wouldn’t last much longer. It was never intended for lengthy use.

  “Shade, Fraidy, anything?” I said looking to about the midpoint of the falls. A furry face popped out from behind the cascade. “Nothin’ here, boss,” he called down. “We’ll go up a little further.” Fraidy’s ears flattened. “Why? You just said there’s nothing there. Why go further to see more of nothing.”

  “Fraidy, sweetie,” I called gently. “Just go with your brother, okay? I’m right here, my love, nothing’s going to happen to you.” The look Fraidy gave me showed how dubious he was about my promise, but my scared cat dutifully followed his confident sibling.

  Movement in the turbid waters caught my eye. Beneath the swirling eddy, I could just make out Horace’s enormous feet as he kicked at the fast flowing liquid to propel his downward journey into the pool.

  Eclipse sniffed around the rocks at the bottom of the pool. I could see my mystery cat sticking his nose into every nook and cranny on display.

  I turned to Dilwyn. The farmer stared up at the cliff face to the spot where there had once been an open tunnel. Dilwyn and I should know because, not too long ago, we had had to leave the caverns of Burning Peak via this lofty passageway. I remember how scared I was as I plummeted the distance from the rock tunnel to the waterfall pool below. The tunnel was blocked by a big boulder now though. I waved at Werelamb to get his attention. “See anyone, Dilwyn?” The farmer didn’t take his eyes off the rock face. “Can’t see a soul,” he said, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun overhead. “Was hopin’ I’d get to speak with at least one of the little feller’s,” he said. “If there’s a hidden passage then there’s gotta be more than one grumlin that knows about it.” I scanned the cliff, looking out for the tell-tale flash of scissor-like fingers. Horace resurfaced, heaving in new breaths of air. “Nothin’,” he shouted again. “Figure I should head meself down again?” I swiveled my head to Portia in question. The Witch Fearwyn shook her head and turned her gaze back to her wand and its outpouring of magic. “No, that’s okay, Horace,” I yelled into the pool. “That’s enough for today. I don’t think there’s anything
here.”

  “Yer sure now, ‘attie?” His face belied his need to be helpful. Horace’s expression showed great relief that he was about to be freed from this cold vat of non-alcoholic liquid. He pulled himself up on a nearby rock and grabbed the towel I’d laid out for him.

  “Are we having a nice little spa time down there?” Portia shouted, her voice dripping acid sarcasm. I looked up at her. “Well, I told you we were running out of time, didn’t I?” She barked.

  Hinrika, from her not spot forty-five degrees from Portia, made a small yipping sound. The faerie queen’s lips were pulled back over her black teeth while her silk-clad wand arm shook uncontrollably as she tried to maintain her section of the Clearcloak. ”It is weakening,” Hinrika gasped. “And, look! There are more of the terrible man’s men in the air.” The faerie queen pointed with her free hand to the sky above the Clearcloak shield. She was right. Just ten minutes previous there had been perhaps only three of four brooms flying their surveillance routes over our heads. Now the small patch of sky that presided over the cascade and its pool, buzzed with darting figures. “I’m losing power over here,” Verdantia Eyebright warned. Her violet eyes locked in determined focus on the point above her head.

  “Ms. Jenkins, instead of standing there gawking, perhaps you could gather your rodents up there?” Portia flicked her head upward to the slick rock face. Her rather harsh observation broke my trance, and I ran gingerly over the stones to a point below my kitties. “Guys!” I hissed, my voice almost overrun by the almighty whoosh of the falls overhead. “Guys! Where are you?” I tried again, craning my neck skyward. A freezing mist coated my face immediately. Shade’s head shot out from just to the side of the falls. He appeared to be on a tiny ledge. “Boss!” He hissed. “Fraidy’s stuck! I can’t get him out!”

  “Huh? What? What do you mean, buddy?” I shouted, already grabbing hold of a craggy, wet foothold. I levered myself upward just high enough so I could see my cats about ten feet above me. Well, I could see Shade, I mean. But the other furry animal up on the ledge was just a headless body sporting a limp looking tail.