The Warlock Weapon

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The Warlock Weapon Page 12

by Pearl Goodfellow


  I couldn't help but notice his contoured chest and stomach as his shirt lifted in the middle of his stunt.

  I trotted over to help my friend, as the cats and Hinrika had their vibrant reunion. The faery twirled, and chortled, twirled and chortled, while the cats clung to the fabulous fabric of her evening wear like Christmas ornaments. Hinrika’s dress would be in tatters in less than five minutes. I couldn’t understand why the Fairy Queen hadn’t yet worked this out, but Hinrika refused to wear anything other than the most stupendously expensive ball gowns.

  I helped David to his feet, as Portia Fearwyn and Verdantia Eyebright strolled toward us.

  “We wondered when you were going to grace us with your presence,” Portia said to both of us, her face set in its usual fierce look.

  Verdantia, our other beautiful fairy friend, glided over, her arms open.

  “Hattie, Brother Trew,” she said, her face lighting up in waves of kindness and love.

  “Vee, lovely to see you,” I said, embracing the radiant fairy. I looked behind her. “Where’s Orville?”

  “He’s inside,” Portia said. “Working his fingers to the bone, while we have our comfortable little tea party out here.”

  Her point made, we all followed the Witch Fearwyn into the bowels of Gaunt Manor.

  “How’s he getting along with the gadget?” I asked Vee as we walked side by side toward Portia’s kitchen and the door to the Custodian’s basement headquarters.

  Verdantia smiled at me, her green eyes twinkling like pale emeralds. “Orville’s under a lot of strain right now, Hattie. He’s being very hard on himself, and I’m trying to find a way to boost his confidence and get him to stop working so much.”

  “Oh, no!” I said, feeling a rush of empathy toward the brilliant teen. “He’s taking too much on?”

  Vee nodded. “Right now, he’s working on the production of Dragon Steel, trying to finish the formula for Futura 2 and, now, he’s trying to get into the device Carpathia brought to us last night.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Poor kid’s got a lot of weight on his shoulders.”

  “Precisely why we need to be gentle with him. We should encourage him at every point of his research, even his so-called ‘failures,’ Verdantia finished.

  “I agree,” I said. “It’s just a shame that Carpathia is busy with the bell anomaly and not able to help Orville with some of the metallic stuff.”

  We reached the top of the cellar stairs and descended in silence to the state of the art base for the Custodians.

  I could see Orville Nugget behind the thick glass that separated his metallurgy lab from the rest of HQ. The teen looked exhausted. Even through the faceplate of his hazmat suit, I could see the dark patches under his eyes.

  Orville saw us and put down his tools. He entered the decontamination chamber and doused his suit in a fine mist of various antidotes. After wrestling out of his overalls, the teen pushed a button, and the glass door to the lab swished to the left in its tracks. He stepped into the meeting room and gave us a tired greeting.

  “I can’t get into it,” Orville confessed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The casing’s easy enough to crack, but it’s the band around the core that I can’t get through.”

  “You’re doing good, son,” David said, squeezing Orville’s thin shoulder. “More than can be expected, given your workload of late.”

  The teen’s shoulders slumped.

  “Hey, Orville, how’s the Futura 2 coming along?” I said, keeping my voice bright to steer the alchemist away from his perceived failures.

  “Good,” he mumbled. “But, what good is a cutting-edge cauldron if the folk that intend to use it are burnt to ashes?” Orville stared at me, his eyes glittering with fury.

  “Now, now, Nugget,” Portia intervened. “There will be no ‘burning to ashes’ happening around here. We have just set out on this journey, and your research is still new. We will uncover the secrets we need to know, exactly when the time is right.”

  Orville whirled on the Witch Fearwyn. “How do you know that?” He raged. “We’re getting nowhere with anything right now. The Dragon Steel isn’t hardening, and I can’t get into a device that a five-year-old alchemist in training should be able to crack. And, who knows what stage of progress the Unseelies and Warlocks are at?”

  “The formulas and inspiration will come, sweetie,” Verdantia’s magical voice drifted to the young man’s ears, and his stance softened, somewhat.

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know,” he muttered.

  “What’s the problem with the Dragon Steel?” David asked. “I thought you had all the components, no?”

  “I thought so too,” the teen replied. “And, I still do, my numbers are solid.” He swept an arm toward the whiteboard at the back of the room without turning his head. An army of numbers and numerical symbols crawled across the surface of the board. “But, I must be forgetting a process, a step somewhere. It’s not hardening. No matter how much heat we apply, we just can’t temper it. It’s … well, it’s a liquid still.” Orville leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling. “Goddess, please, please tell me what I’m missing.”

  “It will be revealed in time,” Verdantia stated softly.

  Fraidy nudged Orville’s shin with his head and rubbed his furry body along the front of the teen's legs. “S’okay, Orville,” Fraidy said. “You don’t have to make Dragon Steel suits for us, at least.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. You’ve got way less work ahead of you than you think,” I said. “My kittie’s being immortal and all.” I smiled at Orville, but he had already turned his head to exchange a look with Portia and Verdantia.

  “What?” I said.

  “That busybody vicar, Thaddeus Peacefield delivered some ancient literature to us last night.” Portia began. “He had copied the intel from the original document which lies in the second chamber of the Avalon Vaults.”

  I smiled. Thaddeus was diving into the mystery. I couldn’t help but feel the glow of his excitement at uncovering so many answers from the past. I bet the Reverend was having a field day with all this.

  “The document contained, ah, some … pertinent information regarding the perils we may face if the Wyrmrig is born,” the Witch Fearwyn finished.

  “Pertinent?” I asked.

  Verdantia put a loose arm around my waist. I felt a calm vibration pass through my body. She was priming me for something, I knew it.

  I pulled away.

  “What is it?” I asked, circling my head between Portia, Orville, and Vee. David looked perplexed.

  “The Lemniscate,” Portia said, licking her lips. “They are not ...safe… against Dragon fire. If their fur is touched with even the tip of the dragon’s flame, then their immortality is irrevocably lost.”

  My mouth fell open. My cats gaped too.

  “Well, they’re pulling out of the Custodians then,” I said, grabbing my bag.

  “Guys, get ready, we’re leaving.”

  “Hat,” David said. “Stop.”

  “No, David!” I barked. “You think I’m gonna put my cats in the way of a ten-ton beast that breathes killer flames? No, uhuh, I don’t think so. Guys, I said come on, let’s get to it.”

  My cats sat motionlessly. They silently tracked my furious pacing with their eyes, but otherwise, not even a whisker twitched among them.

  I felt the back of my eyes prickle, and what felt like a clod of earth settle into the middle of my throat.

  “Guys. Please.” My voice cracked. I knew they weren’t going to leave this crazy, underground brotherhood. I knew they were going to fight this ‘thing,' whatever this ‘thing’ turned out to be, until the very end. And, I knew there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.

  Verdantia led me to a chair, and I collapsed into the seat in a lurching series of sobs.

  A vibration started near my left ear. And, the energy moved to my right. I felt a steady, rhythmic shaking in my chest. On my neck. At the top of my head.
<
br />   The cats purred their elongated, healing vibrations all over my body. Their furry warmth beating away the chill of the terrible truth: that my cats were not only Cait Sidhe but also, very brave warriors. I felt the deep, balancing resonance of their collective purrs settle into my spine and nervous system. I took a deep breath, and I felt my shoulders relax, and my lower back loosen up. My kitties were easing me into a loving truth, and to show them respect and the honor I felt for them, I opened up entirely to their vibrations.

  Hinrika Jonsdottir had a hand to her heart, and a handkerchief wiping furiously at her eyes as she played proud witness to the spectacle. Even Portia looked a little misty eyed, but that might have been just because my own eyes were blurred with tears.

  I stood, giving each of my cats a kiss on the head and a fierce cheek rub.

  “Okay,” I said, finally. “I guess my cats will do whatever the heck they want to do.”

  Hinrika squealed in delight and opened her arms so the kitties could climb aboard and make tattered sails out of her beautiful gown.

  David shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, and turned to Orville to enquire further into the Dragon Steel making process.

  I sidled up to Portia, wiping away the last of my tears. “Portia, I wanted to ask if you’d take a look at David?” I looked into her hard black eyes, to see if she’d pour scorn on my request. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s been acting really strange just lately. And … well, I don’t think he’s well.”

  “He’s not dying,” she said. “Yet.”

  “Yes, but he’s been displaying --”

  “I know what the inspector has been displaying, Hattie Jenkins,” she snapped. “And, I am keeping a close eye on him. But, apart from his red blood cell count being a little high, I can’t find anything of any specific nature. Although, I do have my suspicions.”

  “What? Red blood cell count?” My eyebrows furrowed.

  Portia gave me a sideward glance. “The fool is a very sound sleeper,” she said, a ghost of a smile pulling her thin lips upward. “I take my tests when CPI Trew is at his most unaware. Or, dumbest.”

  Strangely, I giggled. I think it was because I just felt a whole bucket of happy relief thrown over me. Portia was keeping an eye on my friend. I suddenly felt much less alone, not to mention happier, that David had an expert looking out for his well-being.

  “You’ve run tests on David while he’s been sleeping?” I asked, still giggling.

  “Well, how do you think he would react if I suggested that I examine him?” Portia asked arching an eyebrow.

  “Fair point,” I said, looking at the chief across the room. He still didn’t look one hundred percent, but he certainly looked a lot more chirpy. I guess it was impossible not to feel a whole lot ‘lighter’ around the bunch of folks that stood in this room now. There was so much good intention here at this moment, that I felt a wave of invincibility. Even knowing that my cats were perhaps going to stand in the way of some immense and scaly danger, I sensed the force of conviction rise up within me. Even though I wasn’t in the Custodians -- and, nor did I want to be, if it meant a career of full-time witchcraft -- I felt that I had a place in all of this. Like I was a functional piece of the puzzle.

  “What do you think it is that’s plaguing him?” I asked Portia.

  “Apart from stupidity? I’m leaning toward a Warlock hex. CPI Trew’s displaying a fair few of the classic symptoms; over heating, vertigo, upset stomach, skin rashes, light sensitivity.”

  While I felt relieved that I now knew what was likely bothering my friend, a sudden gush of anger disrupted the feeling.

  “Shields. Goddess, I bet he’s torturing David. Just toying with him enough to make him less capable.” My stomach clenched in a wave of nausea. I’d read somewhere that rage could make you physically ill, and understood it to be true at this moment.

  “Well, I can’t confirm it, yet, but that’s the way it’s looking, yes. I need to keep a close eye on him. And, perhaps you could help too by letting me know of any other peculiar developments with the man.”

  I waved my head in agreement, thankful that I had an ally in all this.

  David’s cell phone went off, and I watched my friend speak into the microphone.

  “Yeah, okay, Spinefield, good man,” he said. “What’s that? No, no, just keep looking. I’m wrapping up something right now, and I’ll be there shortly to join in the search. Yeah, okay, see you soon.” The chief turned toward me. “They haven’t found the drifter yet. They’re out by the Mywrden cliffs; I said I’d go out and help.”

  “Of course,” I said, grabbing my bag. “Guys?” My cats, reluctantly dropped from Hinrika’s dress, slicing new track marks in the violet taffeta as they came to rest on the ground.

  We said our goodbyes and walked to the front of Gaunt Manor for our brooms.

  “Hat, I think it’s a good idea if we split up,” David suggested as we reached the porch. “You and the kitties, can you go pay Zinnie Kramp another visit? I think it makes sense if you knock that one off the list while I try and find Typhon, what do you say?”

  “I think you’re right,” I said. “But, are you sure you don’t want to take at least nearly all of my cats?” I ribbed.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ll manage,” he said, grinning. “Call you later? We can see how far we’ve come with everything then?”

  “Sounds like a plan, Stan.” I grabbed my broom and loaded my kitties. “C’mon guys, we’re going to Cathedral,” I said to my furry passengers. They settled down on the stick and looked ahead with a focus I rarely see them exhibit. Maybe, except for Onyx, that is. That kitty was the epitome of concentration.

  Me and my cats took to the storm-darkened skies to see Zinnie Kramp and find out why she had hidden some pretty relevant information from us.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We landed in front of the tall, electrified gates of the Kramp estate just as the sun broke through the clouds to chase away their stormy intentions.

  Shade and Eclipse stood off to the right, looking at me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “We’re going in.”

  “We think we should scope out the outside of the estate,” Eclipse said. “Just in case Zinnie doesn’t offer you the tour, if you know what I mean?”

  “No. I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Why do you want to check out the gardens? We need all eyes on Zinnie right now. One of us should be able to detect if she’s lying about anything.”

  “Uh, boss?” Shade said, still not moving from his place beyond the security camera’s sight line. “‘Clipsy’s got it right. We should check out Ulrich Darkmore’s story about the hematite delivery. See if Zinnie’s using the stone in her garden as Darkmore said.”

  They were right. I wasn’t thinking.

  “Okay, guys. Good idea,” I said. “Follow this wall around to the side street there. I think I saw a recess of some kind on our way in. You might find an entry there.”

  “Lady, we’re cats. We could get into Fort Knox if we decided we’d like the adventure.” ‘Clipsy said.

  I shrugged, and shooed them both away, and joined my other cats at the gate.

  The door, a black painted iron, stood at least twelve feet in height. I pressed a button on an intercom mounted to a small post next to the entranceway.

  “Hattie Jenkins to see Mrs. Kramp,” I spoke into the microphone. Silence on the other end. Ten seconds passed. Gloom huffed, sprung her claws on her right paw and inspected them carefully.

  I was about to press the button again, when a mechanical whirring sound brought the gates into motion. They slid across to the opposite side to one another, and me and my six kitties walked the sweeping gravel driveway to Zinnie Kramp’s front door.

  “Hopefully, she’s more open this time than how you said she was last time,” Carbon whispered while we waited for the door to open.

  “You guys just keep quiet, okay? You’re my eyes here, nothing else. Got it?”
<
br />   I looked down to make sure their furry heads were nodding, and the door swung inward.

  A stern faced Butler swung his arm behind him, but said nothing. He walked in a tight and fussy stride and motioned us to keep up the pace.

  I trotted alongside my kitties and followed the inhospitable man. He stopped in front of a large cherry wood door and knocked.

  “Enter,” a female voice from the other side of the portal.

  Mr. Unfriendly pushed into the room, and dipping his head, announced: “M’lady, the … guests are here.” The butler looked us up and down with a disapproving scowl.

  “Thank you, Hopkins, that will be all,” Zinnie Kramp said, rising from her seat on the chaise. She smoothed down her mourning dress and turned to face us.

  “I’d say this was a pleasant surprise, Ms. Jenkins, but the fact is, it is merely a surprise,” she said, waving her hand to the brocade sofa in front of her. I took the unfriendly cue and sat down.

  “Likewise, Zinnie,” I said, smiling, playing dumb at her cutting remark. Her eyes darkened.

  My cats, sensing the woman’s brittle nature, sat wordlessly on the carpet at my feet. I mentally thanked them all for not jumping up on the sofa, as I don’t think Zinnie Kramp would have been able to handle such a thing.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “There were just a few things we wanted to clear up, if that’s okay?” I said, inching toward the front of the sofa.

  “I have very little time, today, Ms. Jenkins, so, please let’s just make this fast.”

  “Of course,” I said. I leaned forward. “Mrs. Kramp, can you please tell me why you didn’t share with us that Ulrich Darkmore is your brother?”

  “You didn’t directly ask if Ulrich was my brother.”

  “We asked you what your relationship was with Mr. Darkmore, I see that as the same thing.”

  “The question wasn’t pertinent then, and it’s still entirely irrelevant now.”

  Goddess, this woman was an ice queen. I bet even Carbon couldn’t melt her.

 

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