“Can you believe this, clown?” Carbon said, jerking a furry thumb at his dramatic brother.
Portia let out a harsh little snort. “Well, we’re going to need to find the start of this tunnel before Shields has his dragon delivered --”
“Tomorrow,” Gloom finished.
“Yeah, as long as we can get there before Ankou makes the drop,” Midnight said, his little head swinging from face to face as we huddled around the map.
“Which is tomorrow,” Eclipse said, backing up his sister’s earlier observation.
Aha, the penny is dropping.
“Maybe we should go over what we’ve got so far,” Midnight said, not really asking, but telling us. My sleuthing kitty took to the floor. “Okay, to fight this dragon and Warlock-fricken-Maniac, Shields we have a hazy idea of where a possible secret tunnel into his lair might be, and a hunch that this joker, Typhon, is our Wyrmrig … and, what else… what else ....” Midnight paced, holding one paw tucked behind his back while he scratched at his chin with the other.
“I think that’s it, bro,” Eclipse said, sitting motionless at the far end of the room, staring into the huddle. “I think us knowing the rough whereabouts about a potentially fictional tunnel, and a few of us having a sneaky suspicion that some random homeless dude is the Elder Code carrying Wyrmrig, is what we’ve got right now. If you need more floor time, you’re gonna need to list what we don’t have.”
“Yes, I’m afraid I would have to agree with our brother, Midnight,” Onyx said. “The things we don’t have would make an almost inexhaustible list.”
Midnight scratched his head. “Right,” he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else, as he ordered his thoughts. “Well, as of yet we don’t have any magic that could contain or disable the Warlock Chief’s dragon. We don’t have our cousin, Ankou, on our side, we don’t have any suitable armor against dragon-fire, the latter of which is undoubtedly going to be fired upon us tomorrow, we don’t have CPI Trew up to his usual one-hundred percent capabilities, and we haven’t yet found a way to put the killer Warlock behind bars.”
“Woah!” Shade said, pulling his head back flush against his chest. “I didn’t realize we had it that bad.”
“Yep!” Jet shouted out of nowhere. “Yep, the ‘nip’s just hit the fan, yep.”
David waved a hand over the map. “We should post some bodies at the estimated location of this tunnel.”
“No, CPI Trew, that isn’t a good idea,” Portia said. David opened his mouth to object, but the Witch Fearwyn raised an ‘I will have silence’ finger. “All we have is the approximate location for the entrance of this passageway. We absolutely cannot afford to lose this chance. I will not risk drawing the attention of Shields’ goons. Right now this entrance is an unknown quantity on alien terrain. We go to this opening only when the Wyrmrig makes his move. If nothing else, we will give the governor the element of surprise.”
“And it might give him the jitters that we’re all just going about our business on our own little isle,” Shade suggested.
Portia nodded. “That too.”
David rubbed his eyes. “Makes sense,” he admitted. “I’ll have my men along the coast of Glessie. I’ll stay up at the Mwyrden Cliffs. We’ll intercept whoever tries to leave this isle.”
Fraidy sucked in a great gulp of air, and Portia eyed him suspiciously. She flicked her gaze toward me. “Is this little fella going to freak out again? Because there isn’t time enough to administer to his panicked fancies.”
“What’s this ‘time’ you speak of?” Gloom’s voice oozed like a lazy river of sarcasm. “We don’t have any time. Didn’t you hear what Hattie and the chief said? The dragon is being delivered to Burning Peak tomorrow. TOMORROW, people. And Middie’s pretty much summed up what we have right now to combat the threat. Which are two vague assumptions and nothing else.”
Fraidy hadn’t yet expelled his enormous gulp of air. The little guy puffed out his cheeks. His eyes crossed until he stared intently at his nose in frightened surprise. Hinrika jumped into action, grabbing Fraidy into her arms, and gently applying pressure on Fraidy’s back and chest. She muttered soft elvish words to my little lovebug, and I felt a flood of relief when Fraidy finally drew in a breath. He looked up at the Faery Queen as he lay on his back in her gentle embrace. Hinrika smiled down at him, and I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes as I witnessed a lone tear roll down the faerie’s cheek. She smiled down at my kitty, and gently bopped his nose with a careful finger.
To be honest, I was a little envious of my cat’s coddled attention. I felt the impact of the truth of our situation just as much as he did. I wanted nothing more than to lie in the arms of a person I loved, and trusted; to just look gratefully into their eyes and feel content in the knowledge that I was safe.
Portia sighed, and turned to Gloom.“Look, we all know we don’t have … much time.” She struggled to find the right order of words; words that might offer us even the smallest sliver of hope. “But we need to keep our resolve. It’s essential that we keep our resolve, and keep our focus sharp,” she finished.
Gloom guffawed. “And with the …” with a deft paw she grabbed hold of Verdantia’s wrist and looked at the beautiful fairy’s watch “...twenty-one hours we have left, can you please tell us how, where and when we may employ our resolve and sharp focus?” My lady cat looked as if she might enjoy hurling herself through the air; attaching herself to Portia’s face and, well … ripping it off.
It seemed the penny had finally dropped, though, because Gloom’s words spooked everyone immediately. The Custodians and their ‘friends of,’ broke out into a hullabaloo of frightened and angry words. I felt a nervous flutter in my heart which turned into a wild thumping in seconds. Just as I was about to call for order, Grandma Chimera brushed up against me. I sniffed the air and felt instantly calm as Chimera’s violet-y scent flowed over me. I could feel my gran’s warmth. Hattie. Hold fast. No matter how impossible this seems right now, you have to focus. Take each task, job, idea, course of action ... one at a time. One thing at a time. The answers will come, my love.
I thought-screamed my reply: But Grandma, we only have twenty-one hours! We have no time!
Grandma Chimera tsked-tsked. Did you not learn anything from me, child? Time is a concept. Nothing more than a manmade, linear construct; trust me, I should know … I move about outside of time’s constraints all the time. Magic, Hattie, doesn’t come from the feeble hands of time. I could sense Grandma shaking her head. No, REAL sorcery emanates from the timeless. This is where magic is born and realized. In my mind, I could see gran’s eyes sparkling. Here is where magic picks up its vibrancy and dynamism; the timeless. Trust me, Hattie, it’s a place of miracles.
I huffed. Which is what we’re going to need. A miracle.
My deceased grandmother laughed again. She sounded like a young girl.
Then don’t watch the clock, my dear child.
I huffed. Like a ‘dear child.’
What does ‘timeless’ even mean, Grandma? Where do I access this ‘timeless?’
You’re already in it, Hattie. And if you stopped all your mental fidgeting, and kept still for a spell you might just realize that this timeless is now.
The timeless is now?
The timeless IS now. This moment. Always this moment. I must go now, my love.
No, Grandma, can you just stay with me …
The faint smell of violet dissipated before I could even finish my thought.
“Hat? “ David’s fingers brushed my wrist. “You okay? You look a little … vacant.” I could barely hear David over the cacophony of impassioned voices and meows.
“I’m fine,” I said, nodding. “Let’s get this rabble under control, shall we? Portia’s right. We need to keep focus.”
The chief nodded. “I think that’s probably the best plan we’ve got right now.”
“Sad isn’t it?”
“Pitiful.” he offered me a ghost of a smile. “Right, I’m going
in,” he said, flicking his head toward the madding crowd.
I stifled a laugh as David piled into the center of the screaming bodies. Here we all are, devolving into a hot mess of panic, and I’m chuckling at a little inside joke with the man I love.
Onyx’s silky voice crept into my head. Hmm, lots of head visitors. I hoped this second mind intrusion didn’t mess with my head biscuits.
If there is ever an opportunity for humor, Seraphim, grab it. No matter how inappropriate it might seem. Laughing, whatever the circumstance, is vital for coping, promoting clear thinking, releasing stress, lowering anxiety in yourself and others, and it also feels nice.
I bent down and kissed my smart cat on the head. “Thanks, champ,” I said.
David banged the oak table with one of the prototype-test helmets that Orville had made.
“Settle down. Guys! Settle down!” He cracked the table with the fortified metal, and gradually everyone stilled.
“Good. Everyone calm now?” My friend asked, peering at the crowd with his clear baby-blues.
“We’re calling an end to this meeting.” The dark circles under his eyes emphasized the seriousness of the chief’s words. “We are all going home to get some sleep. Or an approximation of sleep, at least.” An outbreak of murmurs from the spectators. “Guys, we have nothing here.” David held out his hands. “I’m serious … there’s nothing to go on right now. It’s unfortunate, but it’s where we’re at. But rather than devolve into a pack of screaming chimps over it, I think we need to sleep and reconvene tomorrow. With focus.” David cast a glance at Portia and gave her an almost imperceptible nod. “And resolve,” he finished.
“We will meet here at noon,” said Portia, handing Verdantia her jacket.
“Noon?” Millie said. “With respect, Ms. Fearwyn, but isn’t that cutting it a little fine? That’s like …” Millie squinted as she did the mental calculations. “...only four or five hours away from … dragon time.”
“We have the chief’s men posted at points around the coast. The chief himself will be there until our meeting tomorrow, so If Jyldrar breaks for Cathedral, we’ll know about it, and we can act accordingly then. But for tomorrow morning … just go about your usual business, act normal, and behave as you normally would.”
Millie guffawed. “You’re kidding, right? You want Hattie and I to weigh lavender and distill witch hazel as if its business as usual?”
“That is exactly what I’m asking of you, Ms. Midge,” Portia said, giving each of us a sharp gaze. “It’s what I’m asking of all of you. We literally have nothing better to do, and, besides, if it gets back to Shields that we’re all getting on with life as if nothing’s happening … well, at the very least it might unnerve the governor. We will speak at noon tomorrow. Please be on time.”
Nobody added anything to the Witch Fearwyn’s parting words. Each of us had to struggle through our own personal hell of anxiety, anticipation and a crushing feeling of hopelessness. And it was in this state that we left Gaunt Manor. To our beds … so we could each snuggle up to a night of sleeping on giant, toothsome tenterhooks.
CHAPTER 13
“Jet, will you please stop tearing around. These books are fragile, for goodness sakes.” Millie reached for the water mister and pointed it at Jet. My catnip fueled cat leapt behind a jar of dried marigolds and poked his face out the side of the container. “Yep, it’s my nerves, Millie, yep. I’m trying to let off some steam, is all, yep, yep, yep.”
“Well, I am trying to play my part in helping save the world, and in case you didn’t notice I only have a few of hours left for research.” Millie’s eyes darted to Grandma Chimera’s grandfather clock. My eyes followed hers, and my stomach flipped. Eleven a.m. How did that happen? We still had nothing, no news of Jyldrar, no sniveling apology and offer to make everything right from Ankou, no … nothing. I snipped frantically at the lavender bushel I was holding. “See anything yet, Millie,” I asked my assistant as she pored over the ancient Futhark.
“Not a damned thing …. I’ve looked at this pile here more than a …” Her voice trailed off.
“What?” I demanded. “Have you found something?” I rushed over to where my friend stood next to the register. “I … I… don’t know. It’s probably nothing.” Her head dipped down to the page she was studying, and my assistant read the passages in a hushed murmur. I could see her lips moving to the strange shapes of Futhark. Her head flew up. “Where’s that piece of paper with all my notes so far?” Millie picked up a host of books to try and uncover her list of ideas.
“You mean the one with the eye of newt and, what was it ...seafoam, or something?”
“Yes, that one,” she said, still frantically searching.
“You’re lucky,” Carbon shouted out from his spot on the hearth rug. “It was on the floor; I thought it was scrap paper… was just about to burn this puppy.” He swatted the balled paper toward Millie. My assistant stopped it with her foot and unfurled it. She flattened the sheet out on the counter and compared it to something she’d found in her latest volume from the Avalon Vaults. My assistant was silent for a few moments and then burst into a flurry of activity, grabbing her coat and bag, and positively flying out the door. “I have to go,” she said. “Can’t explain now, but hopefully we’ll talk later.”
“Wait, what? Where are you going? I don’t understand. Are you coming to the meeting at Portia’s?” My assistant didn’t answer as she was already one foot out. Just before the door closed, she turned and looked at me. “I don’t know about Portia’s yet. Might not be there. Look … Hattie … I don’t know how this is all going to turn out, but I want you to know … you’ve always been like a sister to me. And … well, I love you, girlfriend. I really do” Millie charged toward me, squeezed me tight and then flew out the door again.
Fraidy watched mine and my assistant’s exchange from his place under the tea rack. “It’s all over,” he said, his voice monotone. “Even Millie knows it.”
“Dude,” Shade said. “I think you’re overreacting. Millie doesn’t know that. She’d have hugged and kissed us and made us purr if she thought it was going to be the last time she saw us.”
I stroked Shade’s head. I hoped my good-natured tom was right about that. Right now I wasn’t feeling too convinced.
“What’re we gonna do for this last hour, boss-lady?” Midnight said, pacing the shop floor.
I picked up my phone and checked to see if anyone had called. Nothing. What was everyone doing, I wondered. I fought the urge to scream. In less than four or five hours these isles would see firestorms like nothing we’d seen before. And here I was deflowering a sprig of lavender. You couldn’t make this stuff up.
I looked at Midnight, and then at the rest of my kitties, and made up my mind. “Come on, guys, let’s go,” I said, jamming my phone into my pocket next to my wand.
“Go?” Gloom said. “Go where?”
“Out to Gaunt Manor,” I said. “Let’s get there early. It’s got to be better than mooning around here pretending it’s a normal day.”
“Word,” Midnight said, flexing his legs. “I’m in.”
Fraidy shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter where I die.”
Carbon, Onyx, Eclipse, Shade, and Jet got to their feet, and we bustled out the back door to get the broom.
“I wonder if David’s guys have seen anything yet,” Carbon asked as he hopped on the stick.
“Well, he hasn’t called yet, so my guess is no,” I said, nudging Eclipse and Shade along the handle so I could accommodate more of my furry companions.
“Do you really think our time’s up?” Fraidy asked, nuzzling into a newly loaded Gloom. Without a word Gloom wrapped a paw around my scaredy cat and pulled him into her.
I shook my head. “I won’t hear talk like that, sweetie,” I said, plopping a fidgeting Jet on the handle in front of my she-cat. “We need to stay open to possibilities and --”
“Miracles,” Eclipse said. “Forget possibilities, we nee
d miracles.”
“That’s all the answer I need,” Fraidy said, tucking his head under Gloom’s armpit.
It would be a miracle if a miracle happened. I mean, what are the chances if not slim to none?
I hopped on my besom and kicked off, pointing the nose of my ride to the Gorthland Swamps.
So what if we’re early? Perhaps I could prepare some calming chamomile tea for the guests as they arrived? Yes, that would be a lovely little respite before we were all incinerated by a dragon gone rampant.
We crossed the swamps on a straight trajectory. Sometimes the clouds hung so low over the Gorthlands that you had to duck under them to get a sense of the lay of the land. Gaunt Manor, fragmented by the narrow bands of shifting clouds, loomed into view. I squinted at the assortment of brooms resting against the gothic porch of the building. “Looks like we’re late, not early,” Eclipse observed. I nodded and pointed my besom toward the foyer. “Yeah, it seems like everyone else has ants in their pants too,” I said counting the brooms resting against the gargoyle strewn archway: nine, including Portia’s cherrywood chariot.
Dismounting, I leaned my broom up against the others and made my way to Custodian’s HQ; or Portia’s basement depending on where you were standing.
There was no sound as I pushed on the heavy oak door that led to the command room. My skin prickled; I heard none of the usual banter I’d grown accustomed to over the last few days.
It was a dismal scene. Portia, Verdantia, Hinrika, Reverend Peacefield, bandage-wrapped Carpathia Alecto, Maude Dulgrey, Horace Mangler, Artemis Caves, and Gabrielle; all sat like slumped stone statues, not talking, not crying, just staring into space. Utterly defeated.
“I’m an hour early,” I said, entirely randomly. To be honest, I just didn’t know what to say to the soul-draining tableau in front of me.
Carpathia raised a bandaged eyebrow. “Well, darling, we all got here an hour ago, so you’re technically an hour late.” She dropped her gaze from me and looked into space again.
Moggies, Magic and Murder Page 73
