Muddled Mutt

by Willow Mason

  “Wow. How fancy.”

  “Why didn’t you offer to trade with him?” Beezley asked—the first words he’d spoken to me in the journey back. “He wants you for something and if you’d offered to go willingly…”

  A door nearby slammed. I’d been planning on magnanimously ignoring the elephant in the room, so for him to bring it up immediately stirred my irritation. “Instead of whining at me, why don’t you go inspect the peephole?”

  “Because I’m too short. A matter I’d like to remedy, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  I checked in the other cell and saw I’d been right. The animus healer squatted on the cold floor, his arms covering his head.

  “Hey, there. Nice to meet you, neighbour.”

  When Beezley toddled over, curious despite himself, I picked him up and held his face to the grate. “Now’s your chance to charm him.”

  “He’s got the neck chain on. He won’t be able to help me.” Beezley wriggled until I popped him down on the floor, then he ran to a corner and curled in a ball. If only we had a TV set to the daytime soaps, he’d look right at home.

  “I’m sorry for whatever hold Aloysius has over you,” I called through the peephole. The man didn’t change position, but I saw his shoulders stiffen—a sign he was listening. “Can you tell us anything to help us get out of here?”

  After a few moments, the man raised his gaze to the peephole. His eyes were sunken and bruised, the whites bloodshot. “I’ve been here since August,” he said in a cracked voice. “If there was a way out, believe me, I would’ve found it.”

  “What’s your name?”

  He tilted his head to one side and licked his lips, squinting in concentration. “Marlon Wonder.” His mouth cracked into a smile. “My mother used to say I was the eighth wonder of the world.”

  I picked Beezley up again and held him to the peephole. “This is my friend, Detective Sergeant Adam Beezley, and he’d very much like to get back to being human again. Is there any way…?”

  My sentence trailed off as he touched the chain around his neck. “Normally, I’d be happy to oblige but I’m afraid I’m a little stuck just now. I see you’ve encountered the same problem.”

  “Yes. I’d ask you if you know a way to get the chain off, but it’s evident you can’t.”

  “What special powers do you have?”

  I wiggled the fingers of my free hand ominously. “Black magic,” I intoned, like one of those scary movie presenters who used to haunt the main TV channel late on Saturday nights. “And this one knows the power of filling out a form in triplicate.”

  Marlon laughed, getting to his feet with a groan. “There’re few things scarier than paperwork, I’ll agree on that.”

  “What’s the routine like in here?” Beezley shot the question out like he was mid-interrogation, but the older man didn’t seem to mind.

  “I sit. I stare at the walls. Somebody feeds me and mucks out my cell. I sit. I stare at the walls. If you wanted some time alone to think, it’s great.”

  “The décor could do with a little work.” I peered farther through the small window. “I see you’ve been invited to the dinner tonight, as well.”

  A tub sat against the far wall of his cell with the same assortment of cleaning supplies as we had.

  “Oh, yes. Aloysius is expecting tonight to be a very big deal.”

  “How often do the guards come down?” Beezley wasn’t going to let small talk get him off target. “Are the meals regular? Do they ever take you out to exercise?”

  “Don’t worry, Detective. Once you’ve been here a week, you’ll have all the answers you could want.”

  “I think he’s trying to avoid that outcome.”

  Marlon offered me a sad smile. “I’m aware. Good luck with that.”

  A bark came from behind me and I jumped, clutching Beezley until he growled. When the noise repeated, I ran to the window and saw familiar short legs and their accompanying tail wagging beside the bars.

  “Porangi!”

  The dog peered down on hearing his name and tried to lick my face through the bars. He was easily a foot short, but I stuck my hand up to rub him behind the ears.

  “Where did you get to?”

  At my question, the chihuahua embarked on a series of yaps, maybe detailing his grand adventures, maybe just in ecstasy that we’d met up again. When he slowed down, I slid my finger between his neck and his collar, wondering if we could use him as a messenger dog in some way.

  According to the old movies I’d watch as reruns on Saturday afternoons as a kid, the magic words always began with Lassie!

  The name wouldn’t work, but the context was worth a try.

  “Porangi. I need you to fetch help. Do you understand?”

  He gave another excited yap, twirled in a circle, then sprinted out of sight.

  Beezley huffed out a sigh. “You know he’s gone forever, don’t you?”

  “He used to be a familiar before an accident made him go la-la. There could still be a lot of the old knowledge trapped somewhere in his damaged wee brain.”

  “A familiar, eh?” I turned, surprised to see Marlon peering through the peephole. “You know that’s what Aloysius is.”

  My mouth dropped open. “I mean… He said he was an underling but a familiar? I didn’t think any humans held the role these days.”

  “You’ll only think that’s weird until you meet his master. That’s one warlock who wishes he was a vampire.”

  I rolled my eyes, remembering many teenage arguments on the virtues of vampires. The consensus was Yes, but… which eventually worked its way back around to Yes.

  “At least a vampire can pass on their powers with a bite. What does Aloysius get out of it?”

  “What any familiar does. Companionship. A tight bond. Another person being reliant upon you. Besides, Aloysius does have some abilities. He can take a spell, turn it into dust, and blow it into a recipient’s face.”

  A key scene from The Rusty Nail’s CCTV clicked into place. “You prepared the spell to alter Brianna.”

  “And displace the pair of them from the bar, reappearing here,” Marlon said glumly.

  I tipped my head forward in respect. That was some powerful juju right there. “Why don’t they just take your magic, if that’s all they need you for?”

  “My powers come from black magic. Any supreme can strip a witch of their white magic against their will, but black magic has to be given willingly.” Marlon touched the chain around his collar. “But they’ve still found a way to control us.”

  “What did he show you?”

  Marlon backed up a step, staring towards his own strip window. “My Binky,” he whispered. “She’s been my familiar for over sixty years. Aloysius has her somewhere in the town, under lock and key.”

  Too old for a cat or dog. “Binky’s your reptile familiar?”

  “My tortoise.” A tear rolled down Marlon’s cheek.

  A bark from the window drew my attention, and I hurried over just in time to catch a pen Porangi shoved through the grate.

  “Help. Not a pen. Please, fetch help.”

  Porangi yapped in agreement, then tore off on a new mission.

  “I don’t know what you expect of him,” Beezley said from his corner. “He can’t even talk to witches, let alone humans.”

  “There’re no humans here,” Marlon called out. “The Briary is one hundred percent witch and warlock.”

  “Really?” I’d never heard of such a thing before. Co-existence was the norm. “Surely, that means it’s an even bigger travesty for them to hold us as prisoners.”

  “Only if someone was interested and having no humans means the supernatural council doesn’t pay attention. They’re only interested in what happens when witch and human intersect.”

  “That can’t be right. If they knew what was going on here—”

  “And who’s going to tell them? Us or those frightened folks living in thrall to the supreme who you saw this morning? They�
��re cowed by him. No one’s ever going to spill the beans.”

  I tapped my foot, my gaze alternating between the window and the peephole. “We could try Brianna or Delia.”

  “The ones who betrayed us?” Beezley snapped his teeth in the air. “Not likely.”

  “They’re the only ones in town who’d know this behaviour isn’t normal. Even if they’re willing to trade our capture for a cure, they must see how wrong everything is here.”

  “And it won’t occur to them to do anything until it’s too late. The Briary has a way of seducing witches into complacency.”

  Beezley laid his head down on his paws. “First, they came for our animus healer, and we said nothing.”

  “Exactly.” Marlon jerked his chin at Beezley. “You’ve got a smart brain hiding in that dogsbody. Listen to him.”

  Like I could avoid listening to him when we spent virtually all day long in each other’s company.

  Another bark at the window and Porangi fed a tangle of Christmas lights through the bars. Before I could say anything, he took off again, his little legs working like a champ.

  “We can start a pile of all the useless things Porangi brings us instead of getting help,” Beezley said, lumbering to his feet and sniffing at the small bulbs.

  “You know, if you stop looking at the lights, what we have here is a long rope made of plastic and metal, with a row of easily shattered glass that would hurt like crazy if it broke while tied around you.”

  “Are you planning to lasso a guard?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not the stupidest idea. We just need one to wander into our cells.”

  “Then we can jab them in the eye with the pen.”

  “Now you’re talking.” I shared a grin with Beezley, and the atmosphere lightened.

  Porangi next brought us a colourful medal with a sticky back, followed by a small notebook secured with a lock. While I was busy breaking that by hefting it against the side of the tub, he finally pushed something useful through the bars. A knife clattered onto the floor and I leapt for it.

  “This could help, either with the guards or getting my neck chain off.” After inserting the blade between my neck and the chain, I couldn’t make much headway just pushing. The back of the restraint dug painfully into the knobbly bits of my spine and when I gave up, panting, a tingle ran along my arms.

  “Get down on the floor.” Beezley sniffed along the length of the room, then jumped on one spot. “This is solid stone. If you press the knife against—”

  But I didn’t need to let him finish. My hip was pressed against the compacted dirt and the tiny leverage I could manage was concentrated on the knife blade within the second.

  “Perhaps there’s a lock I could pick with the blade,” I said a few minutes later. My hands pulsed, flooded with red in an outline of the handle. “The metal doesn’t have any give.”

  Beezley snuffled close, turning his head so one eye then the other could have an intimate examination. “It hasn’t scored a line, but the metal seems to have a crack in it. Keep going.”

  With that faint encouragement, I set to work again.

  Half an hour later, my hands were throbbing like arthritis with a storm coming and my cheek had a permanent blush from being grazed against the floor. The angle I had to use for any leverage at all sent waves of blood into my head.

  Everything from my eyelids to my lips was engorged, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I’d begun to wish a guard would come to the cell so I could stop trying when the chain snapped in two.

  The blade skidded along the floor and my head jerked up. My arm and shoulder muscles were so tense, they stayed locked in position for a few seconds after I came free.

  “Success!” I held the chain up, swinging it in victory. “Now, what do you think the odds are I can get us out of here without bringing the entire building crashing down?”

  “Still minimal. A dinner party on the other hand…”

  A fantastic idea. Hopefully one that would also throw some light onto where they were holding Marlon’s familiar kidnapped. It didn’t sit right for us to leave without freeing him from his captors as well.

  I stood up, brushing the worst of the dirt off me, and knocked on the connecting panel. “Would you like to try?” I asked, holding the knife out to Marlon. He took the blade but held it loosely in his fingers rather than setting to work on his neck.

  “Call me a coward, but I don’t dare to. Not with Binky still in their hands.”

  “Keep it,” I said when he tried to pass the knife back to me. “I’ve got this to protect me.” My hands glowed crimson as the black magic swirled through me.

  I felt restless with the victory and danced around the cell. Porangi came to the barred window, this time empty-mouthed, and I patted his head as best I could.

  “The supernatural council!” I exclaimed, turning to the notebook I’d broken open earlier and tearing out a page. “They might ignore The Briary in their general supervision but that doesn’t mean they won’t come when called.”

  “How does one call upon them?” Beezley asked with his eyebrows shooting up his skull.

  “One writes them a letter,” I said, not knowing if it would work at all. Help. Being held prisoner at The Briary. Bad magic.

  I tucked the note inside Porangi’s collar and held his face between my hands. “You must take this to the supernatural council, quick as you can. We might fail in a face-to-face fight with whoever’s pulling Aloysius’s strings, but they won’t. Hurry!”

  Porangi barked once and tore across the field opposite with his little legs pumping as fast as they could.

  “Forgive me if I don’t feel optimistic about his chances.”

  “Putting some good vibes into the world wouldn’t hurt for a change.” I picked up the chain and examined it, wondering if I should hurl it outside so it couldn’t be roped around my neck again.

  Then I heard the footsteps outside my cell. I pulled the chain around my neck, using the strange sticker Porangi had brought us to hold it in place. It wouldn’t hold for long, but I hoped it wouldn’t need to.

  At the first sign of a tortoise familiar, we were out of here.

  “Are you ready?” Aloysius called out. “We’ve brought the dinner forward and are having a late lunch.”

  His nose tipped into the air when he saw the state of us, markedly dirtier than when he’d seen us last. “I’d understand if you weren’t the cleanest people in the world but it’s obvious none of you has made an effort.”

  “We thought we had more time,” I answered simply, holding my neck stiff so the collar wouldn’t rub.

  “Well, you don’t. You’re meant to be a surprise and you look like mud people.”

  “A mud dog, thank you very much,” Beezley snarled, affronted.

  “I can’t believe you’ll be seated next to our honoured leader when you need a bath.” Aloysius sniffed again, wrinkling his nose until I wanted to punch it.

  “Next time we’re kidnapped and held prisoner, I’m sure we’ll behave better.”

  The sarcasm sailed straight over his head. “Next time is too late for me. Ah, there we are!”

  Aloysius darted forward, pulling a chair out at the head of a long dinner table, festooned with decorations and sporting the fanciest cutlery I’d ever seen. While a bearded man with straight, dark hair sat where Aloysius gestured, I picked up Beezley and deposited him behind his nameplate, before taking my own seat.

  In the past few hours, Aloysius had been very busy. As I stole curious glances at the man seated nearby, I couldn’t help but wonder what all the effort was for. He didn’t seem impressive to me.

  “Now, I have a surprise for you, Sire. Two guests brought all the way from Fernwood Gully for your amusement.” I had a gulp of water in my mouth when Aloysius pointed to me. “Your daughter and her canine companion.”

  My mouthful of drink sprayed everywhere as I took in what he’d said.

  The man seated at the head of the table was my father.r />
  Chapter Eleven

  If I was astounded, my father was distinctly unimpressed.

  “I’ve told you on multiple occasions, I’m not interested in parenting. Why on earth did you bring these two such a long way?”

  I rubbed my chest and tried another tentative sip of water. This time, the liquid went down the right way, doing nothing to lessen the sting of rejection.

  “I’m not in need of a parent if anyone had thought to ask me,” I muttered, staring darkly at my glass.

  “Sire, there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

  “Yes. I presume she’s the origin of the rather unpleasant smell, too.”

  I daintily rearranged the cutlery in front of me, lingering with pleasure on the knife. The tip of the blade might be dull and rounded, but that just meant it wouldn’t stick in a man’s ribs on the way to piercing his heart.

  The thought made me smile.

  “Aloysius, I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to come home for this dinner. Are you telling me this unwanted familial reunion is the only reason why?”

  “With respect, at the beginning of the year, you wondered aloud how your daughter turned out. Well, now you know!”

  “You couldn’t bring me a photo? Hack her social media feed?”

  I cleared my throat since I was apparently invisible. The two men briefly turned to me, then resumed glaring at each other.

  “Charming family you have,” Beezley said, jumping enthusiastically into the middle of the table when a waiter brought out a platter of cold meats and cheeses. “No wonder you live with a dog.”

  “She can do black magic,” I heard Aloysius shout in his vain attempt to prove my value. “I’ve seen her bring down a hotel with a single pulse.”

  “Really?” For the first time, my father turned to me with an appraising stare. “Show me something.”

  “She’s collared at the moment.” Aloysius bowed and simpered. “But I’ve got something better than a magic show planned.”