A Spell in Mag Mell (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 5)

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “Hattie. Wait.”

  Her tone was far gentler than my terror supposed it should sound, and my heart resumed a less emergency-room-rhythm once her grip relaxed. I wanted to thank her then. I wanted to gush and kiss her feet and genuinely thank her for not killing me. Such was my relief.

  Whatever Portia had to tell me was for my ears only and it was obviously quite important.

  She pointed to a rustling bush not two feet away from where David now stood with our brooms. Midnight's head poked out, and he hastily trotted the last twenty-four inches or so to relative safety by the Chief. “This Lemniscate. He's inflicted with an imbalance, is he not?” I couldn't help but smile at the term. Only Onyx used this outdated descriptor for my clan of fur-babies. These days they were known simply as the Infiniti.

  “Not just him,” I said, remembering the things I’d seen and heard that morning. “Weird stuff is happening all over Glessie.”

  “Yes,” Portia said, looking over my shoulder at the vast swamp beyond. “I’ve seen the signs just as surely as you have. Something is amiss.”

  She fixed her eyes back on me. “You still have the Sight?”

  Not sure where she was going with all this, I nodded.

  “If you wish to stay safe in the near-future, begin using it as often as possible.”

  That cryptic warning out of the way, she let go of my arm and closed the door in my face without another word.

  I walked slowly to the brooms and my waiting crew.

  “And what was it that the Mistress of the Macabre had to tell you?”

  Wanting to keep David somewhat in the loop but understanding that if we were ever going to get information out of the tight-lipped Ms. Fearwyn, I knew, for now at least, I'd have to keep it to myself. We needed to get this woman's trust somehow. She knew far more than she was letting on. And, somehow she was pulling a few strings in the halls of power on Talisman. Goddess, this gloomy arts practitioner was an enigma.

  “Nothing we don't already know," I said half truthfully. "Right now, what we need to figure out is why Aurel’s death shook Portia up so badly. Did you see how shocked she was?”

  David and Midnight looked at each other, mouths open.

  “What are you talking about, Hat? She looked about as shocked as a dead parrot.”

  "Yeah, boss. No shock there. Only here. At what you're saying." My cat shook his head at what he believed to be mere human stupidity.

  I picked up my broom.

  “Trust me, David. I’ve been around Ms. Fearwyn most of my life, and that is the first time I have EVER seen her so shocked and scared.”

  “Well, let's hope that Fearwyn's fear is because she DID kill Aurel, and she was careless enough this time for us to track his murder back to her.

  “Or maybe she and Aurel were romantically involved?”

  “Eww!” David said, contorting his face at my suggestion. “Do NOT put that image in my head. Lady Justitia, Hattie, how can you even—“

  “When you’re done with the outrage, would you at least think it through?” I asked with a roll of my eyes. “Orville said that his father and mother weren’t getting along. Having run into Hagatha Jinx myself, I can attest that she is a Class-A a-hole who should, by rights, be an ex-wife by now.”

  “And how exactly is Portia Fearwyn an improvement on someone that charming?”

  “Need I remind you, Chief Para Inspector, that Portia had a suitor she nearly married once upon a time? Maybe there’s a side to her that she doesn’t display to the likes of you and I. Maybe the basement doors we saw Aurel come out of is their love nest. Old people still have the need for intimacy and companionship, you know? I mean, wouldn't you like to know that you had a warm and loving partner to come home to when you're in your twilight years?" Hmm, not sure how I suddenly made this about us.

  Midnight clued in though. He promptly fell to the ground in fits of cat chuckles.

  David, being David, focused his efforts on making the necessary mental calculations, deductions and likely scenarios.

  “If it were anyone else, I might think it possible. But, as this is Portia Fearwyn we're talking about, I can only deduce that it's not that you're onto something, but, rather that you're on something."

  I sighed and looked to the sky for invisible strength. David was good at his job, but sometimes I felt like he zoomed in too close, always trying to make the obvious pieces fit together, while never really stepping back to look at the big picture.

  “Anyway,” he said, finally mounting his broom. “I need to get back to the station house if I’m going to make good on that threat of a warrant.”

  “I’m not so sure you’re going to get it,” I said ruefully. “When Portia makes threats, they’re never idle.”

  David gave me a smirk over his shoulder. “I think she overestimates her pull with Talisman. She’s been a suspect in multiple murder investigations, has highly questionable activities and is linked back to this one rather directly. I’m sure that’ll be more than enough.”

  We said our goodbyes as he flew off ahead of me, and veered right toward GIPPD. I could only watch his beautiful receding form.

  “He doesn’t stand a chance, does he?” Midnight asked as we mounted the besom. “Of getting that warrant, I mean.”

  “Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I said, lifting off. Homeward bound to The Angel.

  Chapter Eight

  The sun was just going down as we touched down at the apothecary. To my surprise, Verdantia was coming out of the back entrance with Millie leaning on her arm as we landed. She gave me a radiant smile as Midnight and I approached.

  “So good to see you, dear,” she said, her voice like a delicate wind-chime. “I had rather hoped I would before I left.”

  “What brings you by?” I asked, eyeing my beleaguered assistant. Midnight rubbed against Millie’s leg purring.

  “Oh, I was just delivering another portion of the supplies you bought from Dilwyn earlier today,” she said. “He’d have done it himself but…well, let us just say that he has some discipline problems with his offspring and leave it at that.”

  “Yeah, I saw Lye in action earlier today,” I said, speaking of the spooked Griffins at Dilwyn's farm.

  “If it hadn’t been for my poor insomniac kitty right here, things could have gotten ugly, and fast.”

  “Such heroism is in keeping with the great Lemniscate tradition. In that same spirit, I am going to make sure that Millie makes it home safely.”

  I smiled at my usually lively assistant. She looked as though it was taking all her might to stay on her feet.

  “Oh, Millie,” I said, giving her a hug. “Are you sure I can’t brew you up more tea?”

  “It’s okay, Hattie,” Millie assured me. “Verdantia said that she had something she could give me that’ll maybe help a little.”

  I cupped her face with my hands. “And that’s fine. But if you need to call in sick tomorrow, do it. I’d rather you be well than dying on your feet, okay?”

  Millie gave me a crooked grin. “Alright, Mom.”

  I gave her a kiss on the forehead, let go of her face and asked, “Is Artemus still inside?”

  “Working on the order that the fresh supplies have made possible,” Verdantia confirmed. “He tells me that you’re going to consult a specialist this evening to help with Millie and Midnight’s related issues.”

  I shrugged. “It may not turn out to be any help, but Artemus seems to think it would at least be good for us to educate ourselves about these recent strange events. That’s good enough for me.”

  “Don’t mean to be a buzzkill,” Millie said, tugging at Verdantia’s sleeve like she was three. “But I really need to...Zzzz.” She was out like a light. Verdantia, knowing that this little snatch of sleep wouldn't last long, acted quickly. She whispered her goodbye to me and carried the slumbering Millie as if she weighed no more than a box of cereal. Beautiful, graceful AND strong, then. I felt a pang of envy at the fact that I possessed neithe
r of those traits. Hey, at least you're smart, girl! Yeah, yeah, okay.

  Artemus was busy melting colloidal silver as Midnight and I walked in.

  “How’s it coming?” I asked.

  “Slow but sure,” he replied, glancing up to the front of The Angel. “Did Millie flip the sign to closed? Poor lass was so tired.“

  I craned my head to view the door.

  "Yep, all good. We still meeting up with your 'specialist' tonight?”

  “Absolutely, she’s fully apprised of the situation and definitely wants to look Midnight over.”

  “What about Millie? She’s part of the same problem, right?”

  “The very thing I tried arguing before she left with Verdantia. Alas, my skills of persuasion are not on par with my ability to tell a story. Guess I’m not that good of a substitute boyfriend after all.”

  I went up to the front of the shop. The space lay in near darkness; only fourteen reflective orbs pierced the dim. All were pointed at the front door. The cats were guarding The Angel, and my heart swelled at their devotion.

  “Boss lady in the house!” Shade said, his own yellow eyes becoming visible underneath the counter.

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Gloom quipped from her perch on the shelves.

  “Did any of you try talking Millie into coming along on tonight’s consult?” I asked my camouflaged clatch of kitties.

  “Of course,” Onyx said from the far left corner. “I argued myself quite hoarse on the subject, as my siblings can attest.”

  “That relentless whinging was you trying to get a point across?” Gloom growled.

  “It was a case that needed to be stated,” Eclipse said from behind me.

  “And ... and she still wouldn’t do it!” Fraidy piped up, amazed that anyone could be that dense. “This isn’t the sort of the thing that a good night’s sleep can just fix. She’s obviously possessed!”

  “Actually, a good day’s sleep would do wonders for me right about now,” Midnight said with another yawn. “But…”

  A black blur streaked from the upstairs down to Midnight’s side. “That’s why you’re going to see Artemus’ friend tonight, brother. Just promise me, PROMISE ME you won’t try to knock yourself out like you did earlier today.”

  “No promises, Jet. It’d be like asking you to spend the whole day outside without catnip.”

  Jet hissed at the idea and started running around the shop in an advanced state of agitation. Actually, his rampage was more worrisome than usual. Rather than sticking to his usual route in the storefront, he began streaking towards the back.

  “Jet, no!” I said, lunging desperately for the water bottle.

  A sudden wall of fire burst forth in the doorway, stopping zippy-shorts just shy of the flames. They still managed to singe his whiskers enough to make him howl a meow of dismay.

  “Carbon!” he yelled. “Why’d you do that?”

  Carbon tapped his claws by the fireplace one more time to dispel the flames as he gave Jet a disapproving stare.

  “One, you were ruining my nap,” he said. “Two, we kind of need you to not destroy the whole set-up in the back while Artemus is working so hard on it.”

  “While I appreciate the thought, my pyro kitty,” I said, walking over to where he’d made the flames manifest. “Did you have to make such a…mess?” I sighed. Guess I'd be bringing out the paint again.

  Right before my eyes, the scorch marks of Carbon’s flames were receding away like water being soaked up by a sponge. In no time at all, the wall, the door frame went right back to the way they were before Carbon set them ablaze.

  As a chill set into my spine, I said, “Tell me that somebody just cast an Undoing spell on that.”

  “We could, dear Hattie,” Onyx said sadly. “But that would be a lie.”

  “Carbon, did you have any idea—“

  “None, I swear,” Carbon said. “But it’s a funny thing. While I raised the heat over there, the fireplace here just seemed to get a little colder.”

  “My brother who can never get warm enough is complaining about the fire being too cool,” Gloom said. “Shocker.”

  “I know a change of temperature when I feel one, Gloom,” Carbon countered. “Given everything else we’ve seen around here…”

  “Well, look on the bright side,” Midnight piped up. “At least there was a positive side effect from this ... this ... imbalance business for once. Boss lady doesn't need to bring the paint can out!”

  I felt around the affected area of wall and door for clues but came up with nothing. Maybe this had been a blessing. But the next time could well wind up being a curse.

  I admit, my eyes popped out of my head when I saw where we were going. This house was the last place I expected to be taken by Artemus. We were standing outside a very familiar door just a couple of blocks down from the Fingernail Moon Inn.

  Artemus, noting my reaction, asked, “You’ve been here before?”

  I nodded. “A few months ago. This used to belong to Nebula Dreddock. It’s where she stashed her kept man, Vincent Venetia when his gigolo services weren’t required.”

  “Oh and he nearly tried to assault Hattie when he found out that she was snooping around,” Midnight added, pulling a little on his kitty leash.

  “Tried but didn’t succeed. Or was that a detail your source forgot to mention?” I scowled at my kitty.

  “Well, I did hear that story from Fraidy. You know how he exaggerates everything to make it sound scarier than it is.”

  I shook my head. There was literally no one Midnight wouldn’t talk to if he thought he could get a good story out of it.

  “Well, to bring you up to date on current events,” Artemus said before we knocked. “In the aftermath of settling Ms. Dreddock’s estate, this house was put up for sale, and my contact, who we're about to meet, was the one who bought it.”

  “Couldn’t have been cheap,” I pointed out. Death had turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to Nebula’s career. As a result, anything attached to her, from her places of residence to her toenail clippings, had skyrocketed to insane proportions in terms of value.

  “Possibly not, but my friend is quite resourceful.”

  He gave the front door a couple of respectful taps. This time, the door was answered by someone far more attractive if way more alien than Venetia had ever been. She was a pale beauty with moon-white skin and blond hair that was a near perfect match for her dermis. Her dark eyes glittered with delight as her blood-red lips curled into a delicious smile. Her dress was conservative and pristine but looked like it had stopped being fashionable around the time of the French Revolution.

  “It has been too long, dear one,” she said, her voice carrying a thick Bavarian accent. She stepped aside. Or, rather glided aside to let us in.

  “Please.” she waved her arm theatrically before us, showing us into the dwelling.

  The interior had undergone an extreme makeover with the new ownership, I noticed. Gone were the Egyptian museum pieces and artifacts that had made this place resemble an eccentric billionaire’s storage unit. The living room was done up with an elegant but simple taste more in keeping with its medieval pretensions. Old prints from the Mainland, showing battles and hunts, dotted the walls. An antique table and dining set dominated the center of the room. In the corner, I spotted what looked like a shrine, showing an oval that was perfectly divided between colors of black and yellow, surrounded by white candles.

  “Hattie Jenkins, may I introduce you to Carpathia Alecto?” Artemus said with a flourish. “At least, that is the name you are still using these nights, yes?”

  Carpathia gave a delighted chuckle before giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “One does not spend five hundred years in the Blood by being careless, true. However, it would also not do to change one’s name as often as one changes one’s socks.”

  Midnight’s eyes turned into black saucers.

  “So you’re a vampire?”

  “I most c
ertainly am, liebschen,” Carpathia confirmed, getting down on her haunches to look him over. “This will not be a problem, I hope.”

  “Are you kidding? When it comes to gossip, vampires are the best!”

  Carpathia released a hearty laugh at that as she unhooked the kitty leash from Midnight.

  “You and I shall get along just fine, I think.”

  “So how do you two know each other?” I asked, pointing between our hostess and Artemus.

  Artemus looked uncomfortable by the question. As innocent as it was.

  “Well, do you recall how I mentioned once spending a day with a vampire? When you had come to see me to ask questions surrounding the Druida Stone murder investigation?”

  “A most delightful day, I might add,” Carpathia chipped in, putting Midnight on the table.

  “Still, I am rather relieved that you finally managed to find a more sanitary place of residence. That horrible shack you called home was scarcely worthy of the name.”

  “So does being a vampire give you special insight into what may be going on with poor Midnight here?” I asked, gathering up the kitty leash.

  “You would be disabused of that notion if you knew the more brutish members of my race. But I did have a life before my entrance into the Blood, and a great deal of that life was spent in the study of magic.”

  “So you can work magic, then?” I asked, fascinated. I knew a few lich's who could manage that feat within certain limits but had never heard about vampires doing the same.

  “Sadly, that privilege was revoked when I crossed the threshold from life to un-death,” Carpathia said, staring deeply into Midnight’s eyes while holding his head steady. “But I can still work certain rituals and, more importantly, for our purposes, sense certain energies. May I begin, liebschen?”

  “PLEASE,” Midnight said with a moan of despair. “Sooner would be better.”

  Carpathia stood stock-still for the next few minutes. I noticed how she wasn’t even breathing as she peered so deeply into my cat’s eyes. I found myself getting a little uncomfortable. If it weren't for the fact that Artemus, Midnight and I had just been talking to her, I would have mistaken her for a wax dummy now. How my gossipy cat could stand so patiently still too amazed me.