Her words made me pull out the apple wand. “Actually, there was something I was hoping you could tell me about—“
The wand suddenly slipped through my fingers, floated across the table and into Hinrika’s waiting hand. I shot a look at Portia. She shrugged.
“Oh, I remember this,” Hinrika breathed in fascination. “The Great Challenges.”
She turned it over to where the runes were carved on the ancient stem and noted the two that were currently glowing. “And you’ve made progress with it. Three of the five wards unlocked? Quite good. My congratulations, dear, you do indeed have a well of power within you.”
The wand floated back toward me, and I plucked it from the air. “Do you know how to unlock the remaining wards?” I asked hopefully.
Hinrika looked at me and tsked-tsked with a waggle of her finger. “Now that would be cheating, Hattie. This wand was created as a challenge for humankind. What kind of challenge would that be if I simply told you the solutions, hmm?”
“But having that power unlocked could be very helpful to us,” David interjected. “Couldn’t, say, that ‘communication’ ward give us access, to, say, Mag Mell?”
“Of course it could, Chief Para Inspector,” Hinrika said, a radiant black smile stretching her lips. “Having any sort of power is bound to be useful sooner rather than later. Why do you think the energies of this lovely twig remains locked tight after all these centuries? And, yes, quite possibly the ‘communication’ ward might be the key to unlocking Mag Mell. I am not the wand’s carrier, however, so you will need to direct that line of questioning to the one that holds the wand.” David looked at me. He looked disappointed. I cringed inside. He has no faith that I can unlock this. I put the wand away silently.
Hinrika took a hefty bite of her licorice stick. “Oh, don’t despair, Hattie. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re a very bright, determined girl, and your grandmother’s magic flows in your veins, of that I’m sure. You have the power to release the applewood’s energies.”
“Preach, cuz!” Shade said in between slurps of cream.
While Hinrika blew my moggie a kiss, I shook my head. Seeing that this was a puzzle that had defeated my way-more-competent-than-I granny, I was less than sure about my ability to pull it off.
“Your Majesty—“ David started. Eclipse burst out laughing, squirting cream into Fraidy’s eye, who had been helping himself to ‘Clipsy’s milky treat.
“Oh, please, Chief Para Inspector,” the Fae Queen said with an offhand wave. “No need for such formalities. Call me Hinrika.”
“Hinrika, then,” David said. “Are you acquainted with an Urisk Baron by the name of Baphomet?” I shivered. We had met this dodgy character, Baphomet, when we had managed to gain entry into Mag Mell about a month ago. We were not welcome on the enchanted isle for very long, but, during that brief visit, the creature known as Baphomet had revealed Aurel Nugget's wife's dastardly plans. But, I knew where David was going with this. We NEEDED to get back there. To Mag Mell. To stop the Unseelie mischief. They had become nothing less than threatening, of late.
Hinrika’s smile would have been dazzling if her teeth weren’t so coated in licorice juice. “Oh, yes! Baphomet of the Unseelie Court! He was such a lovable scamp once upon a time.” Her eyes faded to a dreamy far away look.
Hearing her describe the scheming would-be assassin of Aurel Nugget in such glowing terms made me feel vaguely queasy.
David pressed ahead. “Well, we recently went to Mag Mell and had a ... um...enlightening conversation with this creature. And, we were hoping to go back to ask a few more questions.”
Hinrika sighed with genuine regret. She set down her teacup. “I wish I could help you, David…may I call you David?”
Without waiting for an answer or even a nod, the Fairy Queen continued, “But the fact of the matter is that my court and the courts of Mag Mell have a few disagreements with each other at present. Normally, I would throw open the door and let you in. But, well…they may not appreciate my boldness at this time. Besides, it is of the utmost importance for us to maintain healthy diplomatic relations with the Unseelies right now, as I’m sure you’ll understand? Our aim is to go to Mag Mell for talks, and to gather information only. I hope you can understand that to let visitors who aren’t Fae kind into their kingdom would only serve to ignite tension.”
The room went quiet, as we all digested Hinrika’s information. She was right, though. We needed to keep the communication open. The last thing we wanted was for Mag Mell to close its doors on EVERYONE. I mean, we'd need an open portal there always. In case ... well, in case of anything and everything. Who knew what we were dealing with? It's just that David and I both knew that we'd need permanent access to this unknown entity. Okay, so we couldn’t use Hinrika Jonsdottir to access the mystical Isle, but we could use ...
“The Applewood wand is your answer,” the Fairy Queen's voice tinkled through the silence. “The flag-crest of communication is the rune you need to unlock,”
I pulled out the wand again and stared at it, feeling hopeless.
“Such fun! Such fun!” The Queen clapped her hands together.
If nothing else, Hinrika and I had diverse opinions of what ‘fun’ meant.
Chapter Six
Thankfully, the kitties and I slept well that night. Even Gloom seemed to be in something approaching a good mood when I fed and watered my collection of furry roommates the next morning. I still hadn’t heard from David by the time we opened up the shop, so I focused on bundling up the deliveries while Millie stocked the shelves and kept Jet away from the catnip jar. I say ‘focus,’ but, really my mind was on what Hinrika Jonsdottir had shared with me yesterday. I subconsciously stroked the wand in my pocket, wondering if there were a chance I’d be able to unlock the communication rune. I thought of David’s look. His evident disappointment in me as the carrier of the wand. I winced inside. I couldn’t blame my friend. If I didn’t believe I could open it, then why should he? I explained to the cats that I wanted to be on my own for the deliveries as I needed the time and space to think. Eclipse and Fraidy, for whatever reason, were having none of it and were waiting like silent martyrs by my broom before I took off. I didn’t argue. ‘Clipsy tended to be a pensive sort, anyway, so he’d cause me no grief. Fraidy was a different matter, but ‘Clipsy’s calm demeanor would hopefully assuage his brother’s potential panic attacks. My fingertips brushed the applewood in my pocket again. What WOULD it take to unlock that rune? I murmured a silent prayer to Grandma Chimera, begging for guidance, but Granny’s ethereal voice was quiet. It seemed she agreed with everyone else; I’d need to discover the unlocking mechanism myself. After dropping off Dilwyn Werelamb’s ‘Pheonix Tears balm’ (His Chimera’s had a nasty case of mange), I decided to stop for lunch in a quiet spot atop the Myrdwen Cliffs on the west side of Glessie. I had contemplated dropping into Celestial Cakes for a delicious pastry and to see my good friend, ex-golem, Gabrielle, but, today I just needed the solitude. I needed the peace and quiet so I’d have a chance to unravel the mysteries of the runes on the wand. I opened two small tubs of roast chicken for the cats, and carefully unwrapped a tuna salad sandwich for myself. Fraidy didn’t make a fuss, but I noticed that he ate his food with his back pressed against my left leg. We ate in silence and enjoyed the ultramarine vista of the Sea of Mages below the mighty bluffs. Fraidy finished his chicken first, and licking his lips; he curled up into a tight ball next to me. Practically his whole body propped against my leg. I peered down at him. His head was making full contact with my thigh. I stroked him behind his ears, and the comforting sound of his purr-box met my ears.
Eclipse was exploring the high grasses at the edge of the cliffs. He loved the concealment, and the chance to sniper-pounce on unsuspecting butterflies.
I pulled out the wand, carefully studying the two remaining unlocked runes. My eyes honed in on the communication ward then, and squinting at the type below the flag-crest I spied a phrase. It looked li
ke Latin: “Duo Seculorum, Una Tellure, Una Spe.”
‘Clipsy’s head popped through the gap in the crook of my elbow. He peered at the Applewood stick. “Two Worlds, One Earth, One Hope,” he said matter-of-factly. My eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“You know this, Clipsy?”
He pushed the length of his body through the crook of my arm until he was sitting in my lap. He looked up at me. “Onyx isn’t the only scholar in the family, boss. And, don’t forget the Infiniti is old. Like, really old. Like, ancient. There was a time when most of the world spoke this language. Latin was to the old world, as English is to the new,” he concluded, balling himself up for a little snooze session on a warm human bed. I pondered the translation, gazing softly over the azure beauty of the Mages.
“Well, if we take this motto literally, then it would seem to me that the Fae had at one time wanted to be partners with humankind. Not warlords, as we seem to be experiencing now,”
Two Worlds, One Earth, One Hope.
“Well, look at how long the Infiniti has partnered up with your family. That should tell you something.” Eclipse said, his ears a little flat from having his cat-nap so rudely interrupted.
“But from all the stories I’ve heard, the Unseelie Court never would have gone for this kind of mutual union. Are they trying—“
“The Unseelies are…pretty scary,” Fraidy said, from his place squished into my thigh. “But…you know, sometimes I think they’re more scared of humans than humans are of them. That’s why they act so mean.”
“So all these Unseelie activities around here could be a preemptive strike to stop humans from solving the Great Challenges? The challenges being -- as Hinrika hinted yesterday -- on this wand?” I asked, wondering yet again what my cats were holding back, and also for the first time truly recognizing the wand’s power, and the responsibility attached to that power. How on Earth did I end up with this applewood stick? It made no sense that a nobody like me would somehow lay claim to one of the world’s most powerful artifacts. What gives, Grandma Chimera?
Fraidy’s eyes darted from side to side as he paced on the spot with his little paws. “Well, uh, it sounds about right, doesn’t it?”
He was such a transparent fibber. He and Eclipse knew a lot more than what they were telling me. But, because of their good hearts, they despised lying right to my face.
“Hey, ‘Clipsy,” Fraidy said, suddenly avoiding my gaze entirely. “You gonna tell Hattie about that other thing?”
I looked between my two kitties. “What other thing?”
Eclipse sighed. “I was hoping for a more gentle segue into this, brother. Thank you very little.”
“Spill, kitty cats,” I growled.
Eclipse sat up in my lap, clearing his throat. It looked as if we were about to address the United Nations. His head dipped so that he could straighten out a few errant fur tufts on his chest. Clipsy licked and nibbled a few times until he deemed his coat presentable for his upcoming announcement.
“You remember that house that we flew over on the way here? The one on the coast?”
“The Sugar Shack, you mean?” This little cabin by the Sugar Dunes had once been used as a meeting place for the now deceased Nebula Dreddock, and her former lover, (and eventual killer,) Avery Flute.
“No, not the Sugar Shack,” Eclipse said. “The one you pointed at, the one you said was pretty and that you had never noticed before.” He looked at me to see if I was getting it.
“Oh! Right, Yeah, so, what about it?” I asked, reaching for the cat’s food bowls and placing them in my delivery basket. “Who does it belong to?”
“Well, according to Midnight,” Fraidy began, his face not happy at the idea of having to rely on his brother’s gossip. Nobody liked gossip, rumors and shady information as much as my night-prowling moggie. “Nobody owns it right now. It’s been on the market for…how long did he say, ‘Clipsy?”
“Three years,” my memory-wiping cat answered. “No offer made on that house ever sticks. There’s a reason for that.”
“What reason?” I asked, stuffing the last of our picnic debris back into my carrier.
Eclipse and Fraidy looked at each other, but they said nothing.
“Do I need to remind you fuzzies that I gave into you yesterday, just so you could all shred Hinrika’s dress to pieces?”
“You need not remind me of anything,” Eclipse said, his chest puffed out in indignance “Unlike the subjects I perform Obliviscatur on, I remember EVERYTHING.” He responded. Obliviscatur was my mind-wiping kittie’s way of dealing with nosy folk who needed to ‘forget’ what they had just seen or heard. His memory-wiping talents had gotten us out of some very tricky situations more than a few times.
“You just don’t tell everything,” I said, sighing and pushing my cat from my lap.
Eclipse shrugged, before stretching into an enviable downward-dog pose. I blew out a frustrated breath as I got to my feet. Obviously, there was something important at that cottage that my stubborn kitties weren’t telling me about. The only way I was going to find out what it was, was to see it for myself.
The cottage was only a couple of minutes by air. Its stone walls gleamed with the same sheen as the cliff face. It could have been carved straight from the Mwyrdwen bluffs. From the overhead view, it looked like the roof was made of thatch, but a closer look at it from ground level showed that it was just regular shingle and wood. The windows looked as though they were just open holes carved into the facade of the dwelling. But once I got closer I could see that the windows held a glass of the most subtle kind -- practically non-reflective. The house was clearly very old. Just from the fact that its exterior had been mined from our coastline, (most materials for new builds now came from North Illwind’s quarries.) The strange thing was, despite the building’s obvious antiquity, the structure itself and all of its architectural elements showed very little sign of decay or wear and tear. Which is a little unnatural for a beachside house. I looked at the door. The paint was pristine. As was the door handle; a gleaming brass orb; neither worn nor tarnished. I remembered the portal into Mag Mell. The one and only time we had gained access to the enchanted isle came by way of an abandoned trawler out by the coast of Bonemark Isle. The fishing vessel was in awful disrepair, and yet, the ship’s steering wheel was a pristine and polished oak. Not weathered in the least. It had been this ship’s wheel that had proved to be our portal into Mag Mell. I felt a chill travel my spine, and I turned on my Fae Sight, the cats keeping close to my heels. My fairy vision kicked in. The whole cottage lit up with the spiritual light I’d come to associate with anything connected to Mag Mell. Everything my eyes fell on was over-washed with a kind of murky green hue. A Mag Mellian trademark color, for sure. It made me feel a little nauseated. I stopped still, shut off the Sight and blinked a couple of times. The cats thought it would be a good idea to sit, one apiece, on each of my feet.
“Guys, please,” I said. It’s not easy to walk with cats on your feet. Thankfully, my moggies took the hint and hopped off. I approached the front door; my hand stretched out ready to knock. Eclipse pressed his paw onto my foot.
“There’s nobody home, boss. If you want to snoop, now would be the time.”
I nodded at the most mysterious of my kitties. “Thanks, ‘Clipsy.” My mouth was dry, and my heart was hammering. I tried the handle, fully expecting it to be locked, but the door swung inward as soon as I turned the knob. I looked at my cats, my eyebrows raised.
“Little too easy, no?” I questioned.
“I agree, come on, let’s go home,” Fraidy whispered, already turning and making his way up the garden path.
“Fraidy, come on sweetie,” I pleaded in a half whisper. My scaredy cat trembled and squatted on all fours, pretending he was a rock.
“‘Clipsy?” Eclipse was already on his way to his brother. I saw as my mind-wiping cat whispered into the ear of Fraidy, and then patted the latter’s head with a tender paw. Both of my kitties started walking
toward me again. Fraidy still shivering like a leaf, piped up.
“It’s easy b-because y-you’re with us, Hattie. We’re Cait Sidhe, remember? We are welcome into all Fae establishments, at least as far as the threshold anyway. Unseelie or otherwise.” He gulped.
“Right,” I said. I’d momentarily forgotten that my cats were the magical faery-kind. This was a recent development, you see? For me, not the cats. As far as I know, — and I don’t know much about Faery Lore — they have always been Cait Sidhe. But, for me it was still pretty new news.
The cats took the lead, and I followed and closed the door behind me. I heard a distinct click as I pushed the door to.
“Did that just—“ I started to ask.
“It’s okay,” Fraidy said, his freaked-out voice telling me that he thought it was anything but. “The lock’s just to…protect us. The house only lets a select few inside.” Then he grimaced and muttered, “Why do we have to be a part of the select few?”
“So what am I looking for that’ll let us back out?” I asked, looking around doubtfully.
“You’ll know it when you find it,” Eclipse said, trotting off to the corners to sniff and explore.
“Yeah, what ‘Clipsy said,” Fraidy said, sticking close to my ankles. “So, how about we all start looking for it now, so we can like, you know, leave.” He added.
I smiled at my timid cat, and rested my broom and delivery basket against the wall near the door, indicating that I had no intention of leaving just yet.
I turned on my Sight again briefly, the ghastly green glow basking the otherwise empty and featureless room. Nothing unusual here. I saw Eclipse trotting off toward another room at the back of the dwelling, and I followed him. Fraidy’s fur was rubbing against the whole of the bottom of my leg now, he was so close.
We reached the little cottage kitchen. It reminded me of the kitchen at the Angel, somewhat. A Franklin stove stood just to the left of the doorway. The walls were line with wooden cabinets and painted shelves. My nose picked up the scent of aging spice and herbs. I’ll admit, I felt right at home. Eclipse pounced on what looked like a piece of chalk, lying abandoned in the middle of the kitchen floor. Fraidy, being a scared cat, but a cat nonetheless, couldn’t resist diving into the game of ‘bat the ‘thing’ across the floor.’ I left them to it, while I searched the cabinets. I opened each door. Nothing. There must be something here. I switched on the Sight again, hoping I wouldn’t throw up from the assault of the murky green light. Nothing. Something hit my ankle. I looked down to see the tiny white baton that the cats had been playing with. I kicked it away and turned my attention back to the frame.
The Chimera Charm (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 6) Page 7
