The Curious Case of Simon Todd

by Vanessa C. Hawkins

  “Why with my gun I could shoot off a round of spitfire, frostfire, or even a jolt of electricity. Something to liven up those old devils.” He ran his hand along her lap like a spider, eliciting a giggle from the young lady before turning his head aside to acknowledge the other before him.

  “Miss Baxter!” he shouted, his eyebrows rising to the top of his forehead. “Why, either you’re early or I forgot to wind my watch.”

  The young girl on his lap looked at everyone politely before removing herself from Mr. Dashing’s person and smoothing down her skirts. “Sorry Miss, Sir. May I fetch you anything?”

  So she is the proprietor, Simon thought. How unprofessional.

  Miss Baxter smiled anyway, nodding her thanks. Simon walked up to join his two companions, requesting a cup of jasmine with a sprig to stir the milk. Even if he couldn’t taste it he would still have his tea.

  “Would you also bring me another cup of wine?” The gentleman sitting next to Dick spoke without bothering to look up from his book. The young lady nodded, turning towards the opposite wall where sat a large, clean countertop. Barrels were tied up behind it, situated on shelves. Beside them were blinking glass bottles and more wax candles. The scent of spiced stew was wafting from a little room beyond the counter. Simon pondered if he’d ever again have the luxury of tasting spiced stew and sighed.

  “In either case, it’s good to see you again. You too, Simon.” Mr. Todd is more appropriate, Simon thought. We are hardly friends just yet. But instead he replied, “You too.”

  “I’d like to introduce to you our scholar for the trip. He’s quite a learned man. Studied at Grimguild, or so he’s told me.”

  “Really?” Miss Baxter glanced towards the young gentleman, who looked up to regard her. Simon noticed the round spectacles adorning his nose were tinged the color of saffron.

  “Yes,” he said, picking himself up to stand straight. He was clean shaven, with yellow hair combed back along his scalp. He was wearing a black overcoat, a button down shirt with cravat and black trousers. Mr. Todd thought he looked quite the nobleman as he stepped up beside Miss Baxter to shake his hand.

  “Simon Todd,” he introduced himself, obliged to meet his acquaintance.

  “Jane Darcy,” the gentleman responded.

  Simon tipped his head to the side, afraid he may have misheard the man. “Did you say John?” Simon asked, pleased by the man’s strong grip and polite manner.

  Mr. Darcy furrowed his brow. “Jane.” Mr. Darcy looked somewhat perplexed at having to repeat himself.

  “Jane?” Simon echoed.

  The man nodded. “Quite right,” he said.

  Mr. Todd, deciding for the moment to forget about the man’s odd first name, smiled nonetheless, the small bit of apprehension he felt invisible on his features.

  “I hear you’re the gifted sorceress?” Jane inquired of Miss Baxter.

  The young lady smiled, inclining her head. “Mr. Dashing is too kind,” she replied, casting her eyes downward.

  “Balderdash!” Dick cried, giving her a good up and down. “Miss Baxter’s the key to this whole venture. Don’t be modest, my dear.”

  “Indeed,” Mr. Darcy piped in. “If you’re a graduate of Grimguild you must be formidable in your magical abilities.” He seemed to consider this a moment. “I look forward to getting to know a fellow alumnus.”

  Miss Baxter cocked her head to the side. “What did you study?” she asked.

  Simon was also curious.

  “A great many books.” Mr. Darcy looked to the side then down to the dusty tome he had been reading prior to their introductions. “I studied at Grimguild, but never graduated. I left after I consumed the majority of their library.”

  Simon made a face. Miss Baxter looked confused.

  “Apologies if I mislead you.” He looked towards Mr. Dashing. “But I do know a great many things, so there is no doubt that I will be an asset to you.”

  Dick shrugged, turning slightly to grab his drink from the table. “No qualms here.” His moustache bobbed as he took a dram.

  Simon was impressed by Jane’s honestly. “I’m sure you’ll make the journey even more pleasant.”

  Mr. Darcy seemed pleased with the remark, and tipped his head forward in thanks. At least the man promised to be full of meaningful conversation. Simon also noticed he had not once refrained from his literary ventures to regard the young proprietor’s open dress, something even Mr. Todd hadn’t been immune to. Simon was also quite certain Miss Baxter would be safe with two solid gents around, even despite Dashing’s lewd behaviour and glances.

  “So?” Mr. Todd had been so swept away with his thoughts he hadn’t noticed that the gentleman was still speaking to him.

  Simon blinked. “I’m dreadfully sorry. Could you repeat your question? My mind was captured by the candlelight.”

  Mr. Darcy didn’t look the least bit offended. “Not at all,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I was just inquiring as to your position in our humble fellowship?”

  “He’s the party equerry,” Dick intervened, taking out a cigar and preparing it to light.

  Simon frowned down at him.

  “Well, equerries are important. We shall have to ensure we obtain horses,” Jane Darcy maintained, as though to defuse the matter.

  “He’s also the cook.”

  If the man was trying to be more frustrating, then certainly he was succeeding. Simon inhaled through his nose, determined to not make a bad impression to an otherwise respectably looking goodfellow. Pursing his lips Mr. Todd nodded.

  “I fancy myself a jack of all trades, master of none I’m afraid.” Emphasis on none.

  Simon placed his hands in his pockets, scratching at his inner palms to distract himself from anger and the annoying Dick Dashing. “I make my living as an accountant for Mr. Hershal at the bank.” Mostly everyone in Darlington knew about Mr. Hershal. Well, Simon was his numbers man. That accounted for something, even if it had not for the gunslinging dupe.

  “You manage finances? Count money?”

  Simon shrugged. “I never really handle the money, mind you. Mostly it’s all pen and paper. Bookkeeping and the such.”

  The oddly named Jane Darcy seemed genuinely intrigued. “Interesting.”

  “You think so?” Mr. Todd felt slightly embarrassed.

  “Money is a very important commodity. Anyone who secures and documents it has a respectable job indeed.”

  Simon thought so too. “Well,” he said, being modest. “The bank is what really secures a person’s gold. But, I suppose, bookkeepers are invaluable in assuring every little piece and where it goes is all documented. Otherwise no one would feel safe in taking their deposits to us.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded.

  “Ahem!” Jostled by the man’s interruption, Mr. Todd and Mr. Darcy looked towards the moustachioed man now standing from his chair.

  “This is all fine, gentlemen,” Dick began, smiling beneath his handlebar moustache. “But unless we get the gold, we won’t be needing a bank.” He took a huff of his cigar. “Or, an accountant.”

  Mr. Darcy straightened the lapels of his coat, looking like his interest was quite derailed. Simon felt his nostrils flare.

  “Quite right.” The blonde haired gentlemen replied, shooing away the young waitress when she returned with a glass of wine. “I suppose we should be of a clear mind.”

  Mr. Darcy removed a set of white gloves from an inner pocket of his coat. He began to don them. “I’ve already looked at your map, and am of the mind that the best route to take is the Big Road south. It’s longer, but it will evade the Helvallyn Hills and highway men throughout. It’s a short trek to Piper’s Toss. If we’re lucky we may be able to pay a few coins to travel with a caravan.”

  “Piper’s Toss is full of delinquents,” Simon said offhandedly.

  Mr. Darcy nodded. “That’s true.” He trailed off a moment. “But if nothing else we can buy horses to make the trip faster. Most of the people in Darlington are fa
rmers and in need of their livestock.”

  “If they were dead they’d tire less,” Miss Baxter interjected. Simon felt his lips press into a thin line. The thought of him straddling a dead, rotting corpse made him shudder.

  Mr. Darcy seemed to consider this a moment.

  “Nevertheless,” Dashing bellowed, throwing an arm about the young lady’s shoulders. “We need to get there first. Piper’s Toss isn’t much more than a day’s march away from here. If we start walking now, we’ll probably make it by mid-afternoon tomorrow.”

  Simon noticed the way he pulled Miss Baxter in under his arm, resting his stubbly chin on the crown of her head like it were some kind of pillow. It occurred to Simon a moment later that they’d have to sleep outside without horses. Sleeping outside meant tents, and Mr. Todd was astute enough to notice Miss Baxter hadn’t packed one on that old, dead donkey of hers.

  Damnation! Why hadn’t he thought to pack a pavilion of some sort? Well, he’d just have to make sure they both slept well enough under the stars. Side by side was best, that way he could make sure that old vagabond Dick Dashing didn’t try anything untoward. It would be safer if he could somehow convince Miss Baxter to share a blanket, or some such, with him. If anyone disturbed them then, he would be sure to know. Mr. Todd wondered whether it would be a proper thing to ask, and if so, how would he really go about it?

  “Are you coming, Mr. Todd?” Simon perked up, startled from his reverie for the second time today. Miss Baxter was at the door. The young proprietor was at his side, a cup of jasmine breathing steam into the warmly lit, now virtually vacant inn.

  “Uh.” Everyone had already left. Simon blinked, looking down at the lady with the half open bodice. “Y-yes,” he called, digging in his pocket for a coin. Both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Dashing were outside already, chumming it up, or so it looked. Simon felt quite confident Dick Dashing would be left with the short end of the stick. Not only was the young gentleman already interested in his work as an accountant, but Mr. Darcy had also demonstrated a fairly learned mind. Dashing was an oaf with a gun, the third man out, no doubt. Cook or equerry, Simon Todd was sure to be a much more popular companion than him.

  Passing the coin to the lady, Simon vacated, half losing his slate gray bowler hat when a gust of wind swept in past the doorway.

  Miss Baxter smiled back at him, untying old Salvador and turning away. Simon smiled at her back, walking behind her through the small cobbled road towards Main Street. The clouds overhead had converged, and so the path was blanketed in shadow. Simon had jumped after picking his head up from his watch, having checked the time. Though his companions seemed oblivious to anything untoward, indeed Mr. Dashing had quite securely hooked Jane Darcy into an almost certainly fabricated excerpt of his past endeavors, Simon was quite certain he had seen a frightfully ghastly reflection in a tailor’s front store window. Eight-legs, large bulbous bottom, life sized! His arachnophobia was conjuring hallucinations! Sniffing, and pulling out his kerchief at the sudden fear of sneezing, Simon leapt ahead, moving in closer to his newly acquired companions.

  Chapter 3

  Simon Todd Stirs The Pot

  Jane Darcy was quickly learning that being a dragon in disguise was no easy business. Human clothing was constrictive, stiff and rather tight in some areas, whereas their bodies were soft and easily damaged. He was also beginning to realize there was something a bit off putting about his name. Every time he introduced himself, humans seemed to fumble over the correct punctuation. Was it in the name? Or were they simply dim? Mr. Darcy was certain it had to be the dull-wittedness of the humans he kept company with. He found the names in one of their rather delightful works of fiction, after all. In fact, Jane Darcy’s name was a combination of two of his most favorite characters.

  Perhaps most people were just uneducated. Either way, it wasn’t enough to expose him as anything other than the perfect gentleman.

  “You did that? Really? That’s quite impressive,” he responded to Mr. Dashing with half lidded eyes. Quite frankly, now he had gotten to know him a little, the fact his lair had been discovered by Mr. Dashing in the first place was mindboggling. The young man with the rather odd looking hair growing atop his lip was a bag of boasts, but he didn’t seem to be of much substance. Dick Dashing was a man full of hot air it seemed, deflated, if Mr. Darcy so desired to puff a bit of fire his way.

  But he didn’t. Mr. Darcy, whose real name was quite impossible for humans to say and involved a lot of hissing and growling and impressive tongue flicking, was certainly a young dragon. Having just assumed his human form about a decade prior, he hadn’t gotten around to securing his lair quite enough yet. Though he had studied books at Grimguild, and hastily abandoned the venue when he learned about the wizard mafia running the place, he hadn’t compiled enough knowledge to adequately ward his home. In fact, the spell that was currently impeding his companions was from a scroll he obtained by chance and good luck. The problem now was that he himself didn’t quite understand how it worked or how to dispel it, and now that it was in place, Jane Darcy himself couldn’t access his precious hoard.

  “Well, I’m sure once we get there, the good Miss Baxter will know what to do. Then we will all be very rich.” And I’ll eat you, he thought.

  He certainly hadn’t planned on it. But after following Mr. Dashing back from his lair, Jane Darcy had come to the realization the only way to secure his treasure and keep it completely secret until he managed to relocate it, was to gobble up those who would help him remove the spell. It was a dreadful bother, as most of the party seemed relatively good natured, albeit odd, but it had taken him more than a few decades to secure that hoard in the first place, and as his great grandwyrm had taught him, charity breeds poverty from rich dragons.

  Oh, but he was feeling rather wretched. Now there was the good Mr. Todd to add into the mix. He was sure to have a grand dose of indigestion after all of this was said and done. Not to mention the entire predicament was incredibly embarrassing. That he, a proud, powerful purple diamond backed dragon would have went to all the trouble of finding a scroll to ward off intruders, but not had the mind to learn how to dispel it? It was ludicrous, as well as a lesson he would never forget.

  “Uh.” Jane Darcy turned around, noticing Mr. Todd struggling to catch up. Glad for a chance to elude Mr. Dashing, Jane stepped back so he could address him.

  “Yes?” Mr. Darcy replied. Jane thought the man looked somewhat frightened.

  “Oh, ah, yes well…” Simon paused for a moment, obviously trying to speak past some kind of emotion. Shaking his head. Mr. Darcy noticed him take in a large inhalation of air before turning to address him much more calmly. “Sorry, I…well, I thought I saw a rather large spider.”

  Mr. Darcy smiled. How humans could be afraid of something so much smaller than them, he would never know. “You are afraid of them?” he asked anyway, not really expecting any sort of inspiring explanation.

  “Well yes but, that wasn’t what I wished to ask.” Simon leaned in closer. Through the red lenses of his glasses Mr. Todd looked perpetually embarrassed. “Do you really think it necessary that we stop in at Piper’s Toss?” Since Mr. Darcy was a good foot taller than Mr. Todd, Simon looked up at him with a hand over his mouth when he began to whisper. “I mean, it’s certainly no place to be bringing a lady, not to mention all the rapscallions there that will want a cut of our purse.”

  Jane had a few coins, but nothing that would be called a ‘purse’.

  Simon continued, “Not only that, but if anyone finds out we’re on a quest to find a dragon’s hoard, everyone’s going to be wanting a look at our map.” Simon paused. “I think it would be quite shrewd to just skip the place altogether.”

  Mr. Darcy couldn’t help but note a hint of conspiracy in the young man’s voice. He vaguely wondered for what other reason Mr. Todd sought to bypass the place. As for Jane, he certainly wouldn’t have minded if he could have simply flown the rest of the way. Walking was a chore indeed. Human’s had
short legs and no stamina. What would have been a linear route to his lair was instead made circuitous by the fact they had to sleep and eat and restock, all while climbing over large rocks that huddled deep in the ground. It made Mr. Darcy sleepy just thinking about it.

  “I’m afraid not,” he said with a lighthearted smile. “If we don’t want the trip to take weeks, we should acquire horses. I’m certain Miss Baxter has seen worse hardships, and if you care for her, it would be best to be there and back again as soon as possible, right?” They were passing over an arched stone bridge. Mr. Darcy could hear the water sloshing on the shallow banks below them. The smell of wet dirt was refreshing.

  “Besides, Miss Baxter will be safe if you protect her.”

  “And I will! I’ve every intention.”

  Humans. They feared too easily and fell in love too easily.

  “Well good.” Darcy smiled, clapping the man on the back. “Then no need to suspend our visit.”

  Simon was quiet after that, and the party of four were able to enjoy their walk out of Darlington. Dick Dashing with his hand ever on the grip of his pistol, walked with a sure gait and long strides. Just behind him was Miss Baxter with her corpse-donkey Salvador. Mr. Darcy was quite surprised by the lack of flies hovering around the dead thing’s body. When he asked about it hours later, the young girl confessed to a repose spell that kept it from spoiling. Darcy was impressed. The girl may have been young, but she certainly had more foresight that he with regards to his hoard.

  He himself came after her, his head quite obviously in the clouds. Though Jane had explored other human settlements before, Mr. Darcy often kept to himself during these excursions. Even his time at the Grimguild library often left him in solitude, though almost all of his leisurely readings were about humans. This meant that this journey would allow him to really get to know and explore the complexities of his most favored literary characters, and at this thought, Jane found himself to be quite tickled.