Breaking and Entering 101 (The Case Files of Henri Davenforth Book 4)
Page 22
“That’s a very fine line…” Henri cut himself off, frown deepening. “Technically, we could do the same.”
“Do you trust the wards to stay benign?”
“No,” he sighed. “After all, I have no nefarious intentions toward the royal family, and the wards still won’t let me pass without invitation. I’m not sure what it is about Jameson’s mentality that gives him the necessary loophole, but he possesses an ability the rest of us do not. Fine. Let’s call him in.”
It would mean a two-hour trip, at least, to Kingston and back if I were to fetch Eddy myself. I had a better idea and pulled out my pad, calling Sherard. “Hey, Sherard, I need the kid.”
“Which kid?”
“The one driving you crazy for most of the month. Eddy Jameson. I need him to retrieve something beyond a ward for me.”
“If you’re contacting me, then you want me to get him and portal him to you?” His voice sounded less than enthused.
“You’re so quick on the uptake.”
“You realize you owe me for this.”
“Yes, yes.” I ended the call and put the pad away. “Sherard’s portaling the kid to us. Henri, can you give him a precise location?”
With a deep, exasperated sigh, he acquiesced and headed back upstairs.
I knew they didn’t like it, but in truth, I had another idea. And if Eddy could pull through here, then it made my idea all the easier to argue.
Because we had nothing else better to do, and I wanted to make this as easy as possible, we unloaded the gold from the safe and hauled it upstairs. We had it all stacked on a makeshift worktable by the time Sherard landed with Eddy, standing on the sidewalk just outside.
My friend looked as if he’d swallowed nails and chased it with lye, but he’d still brought Eddy for me. I really did owe him.
Eddy looked beyond nervous. Considering how many times Sherard had threatened to ship him off to sea, it made sense. He probably felt like he’d been kidnapped. I hastily went to him to put his fears to rest.
“Hey, Eddy,” I greeted with a smile, bending a little to put us more at eye level. “I need your help on something. There’s something in this building I need retrieved, but the wards on the building are giving us some trouble. So, here’s the deal. I think you can get in. If you can retrieve it all for me, I’ll pay you in books.”
You’d thought I’d offered him all the gold in India. “How many books?”
“I will personally take you to a bookstore and you can pick out any book you want,” I promised, my arm to the square as if we were in a courtroom. “Twenty’s your limit. How about it? Deal?”
Eddy thrust out a hand immediately and we shook on it.
“Good man.” Taking him by the shoulders, I pulled him around so he could see through the open door. “Okay, what I need is right inside the door. This is stolen property, okay? We’re trying to put it back in the right hands. The two gold ingots and all those sacks of coins on the table is what I need, nothing else.”
Nodding, he left my hands and marched directly inside. He didn’t hesitate to grab one ingot, turn about smartly, and march right back out.
Henri and Gibson both hissed in shock as the wards let him through without even a ripple. I had to bite down on my tongue to keep a cackle behind my teeth. I just knew Eddy could do this. The kid definitely operated in a grey moral area.
Eddy put the ingot directly into my hands, beaming at me. I took it and grinned back. “You just earned yourself two books, kid. Go get ’em.”
Giggling, he skipped right back inside.
Yeah, this will be easy peasy lemon squeezy with him doing the legwork.
“Watching this is making my head hurt,” Sherard complained to Henri under his breath.
“Tell me about it,” Henri grumbled.
Since Eddy was still out of earshot, I took a moment to start my campaign. “But gentlemen, just think. What if we could use that natural ability? What if we could turn it to good instead of mischief? If we hired him to routinely test the defenses of different buildings, wouldn’t that be a better use of his talent?”
Henri and Sherard looked at me as if I’d just suggested befriending the devil. But then, little love lost there. Gibson, however, looked intrigued. He at least saw the benefit of it.
Eddy must have overheard enough to get the gist, because as he handed the next ingot of gold over, he asked hopefully, “You need me to break in somewhere else?”
“One job at a time, kid,” I encouraged him, shooing him back inside. “Let’s focus on this job first. I, for one, want this case completely put to bed.”
“But later?”
We really had to give him a legitimate way to use his talents. He’d be in prison for the next century otherwise. “Later is bookstore, remember?”
Happy at the reminder, he dove back for another armful of gold.
Nichols took issue with this. He hissed at me, “Why is he rewarded for stealing something, and I’m punished?”
“First of all, he’s never stolen anything. Second, it’s about intent.” I glared at him. “There’s not a malicious bone in that kid’s body. I can’t say the same for you. Not only did you steal, but you were attempting to double-cross your partners.”
Nichols went ashen white. Seriously, corpses had better color.
I wasn’t even surprised. “Foster, we’re done with him. Haul him back to the precinct and arrange for prisoner transport, would you?”
“Sure thing, Detective.” Foster hauled him away, Gibson going with him just in case.
As for me, I kept standing there, accepting the gold Eddy handed to me, and packaging it up for transport as well.
It really was a heady feeling, solving a case.
Girls’ Night, for once, started on time.
I’d started out tonight a little differently than usual, mostly because of my additional company. The girls had been understandably a little nervous with having such an august guest, and I’d anticipated that. So, we’d started out with a drinking game, Quavers.
In theory, it was a simple rhythmic game. Move the cup to the right, left, then pass it to the person on your right. But as the rhythm picked up and got faster, drinks started spilling, and the first person to spill had to chug a shot—while still keeping the rhythm. Needless to say, it got messy fast.
After a full round, my guests were a little drunk, definitely giggly, and snorting the fruit tray like it was cocaine. Even my esteemed guest had gotten into the swing of things pretty quickly.
I stood behind my stove now, checking on the jambalaya. Everything looked and tasted right—it was about ready to serve. I had a mild and a spicy version, as I wasn’t sure in this crowd who was good with spice. As I retrieved bowls, Colette fetched up against the other end of the bar.
Leaning in, she whispered, “Did you invite her?”
“She sort of invited herself,” I admitted. “I didn’t dissuade her, though. Everyone needs girl time.”
Colette nodded sagely. (She was more than a little drunk at this point. She kept weaving and the head bobbing wasn’t helping.) “She’s fun. I’ve decided I like her.”
The woman in question joined her at the bar, leaning into Colette’s side and beaming up at her in return. “I like you too. I want to come play with you more often. Jamie, I have to play with her. And Ellie. And Penny.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at these two. “You can do that. We’re not stopping you.”
I got beaming smiles all around. Maybe I should hide the rice wine while they were eating. They’d quite possibly had a bit too much at this point.
There was a respectful knock on the door in a rhythm I knew well. I opened the door and to my complete lack of surprise, there stood Henri. He was in shirt sleeves, rolled up to the elbows, and still in leather slippers, so he’d clearly been home relaxing. In his hands was a bowl, which he held hopefully in front of him like a beggar looking for alms.
“Is that jambalaya?”
/> I waved him in. “I should have known you’d show up. You were a bloodhound in a previous life, I will swear to this. Come on, come get a bowlful.”
“Hi, Henri!” the girls still leaning against the bar chirped at him.
Henri came to an abrupt stop, eyes wide enough to fall out of his skull. “Uh…good evening, Your Majesty, Colette.”
Yeah, he was about one second from bolting. Girls’ Night was too peopley for him most of the time anyway. Throw a queen in the mix and he had no idea what to do next. I handed him a full bowl so he could escape.
Henri flashed me a grateful smile before cordially wishing everyone, “Enjoy your evening.” He disappeared with alacrity for the sanctity of his own apartment, where sanity likely reigned.
My apartment did not fit that criteria right now and likely wouldn’t for the next twelve hours. At least. I’d noticed Clint had already escaped.
Without hesitation, Regina took the next bowl and immediately popped a bite into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed, then looked me dead in the eye. “For the good of this country, I require the recipe.”
Why was she adorable like this? And if I had to hold back any more laughter, my sides would ache the next day. “I’ll make sure it happens. Now come sit down before you spill your bowl. Colette, Ellie, Penny, Charlie, all of you too.”
Penny came for a bowl, but even as I ladled it in, she demanded of me, “You didn’t really make that kid a professional thief?”
“The term you’re looking for is security specialist,” I told her, then steadied her bowl as she wobbled her way onto the bar stool. Definitely had to hide that rice wine. “And I didn’t do it.”
Regina threw her hand up like a child in a grade school class. “I did! I have a professional thief on my payroll. I pay him in books.” She giggled, eyes sparkling. “Easiest person to pay. Jamie’s to blame, though.”
“Yes, yes.” I shook my head, amused at the lot of them. “And when it all goes south, I suppose I get the blame for that too?”
“Of course!” Regina caroled. She went a little off key at the end.
Ellie slung an arm around Regina’s shoulders. (It was supposed to look affectionate but Regina listed to the right, fetching up against Colette, and it was obvious Ellie’s balance was long gone.) “After this, we’ll go ride motorcycles. You’ll like my motorcycle. It goes vrooooOOOOOOOooooom.”
Regina perked up. “Does it go really, really fast?”
“The fastest! Jamie told me how to design the engine. It goes too fast.” Ellie was proudest of that last bit.
“Then let’s ride it after the yummy jambalaya.”
Guys. We may have corrupted the queen. My bad?
• Sampni – it’s a fruit, kinda a mix between mango and passionfruit. Really yummy. I can drink my weight in this tea, no kidding.
• Cold tea – is not a thing here. Kingston views cold tea the way the Brits back home think of cold tea. America, WHAT ARE YOU DOING kind of outrage. I think I might have to give this one up as a lost cause.
• FINALLY FOUND SOY SAUCE. It comes from a tree, oddly enough. Kinda like a maple extract.
Air quality in Kingston is starting to get bad. I remember reading that the air quality around the major cities during the Industrial Revolution was really awful. I now see what they mean. I’ve got a bug in Ellie’s ear about putting an air purifier on the mufflers of the cars. Maybe I can put another bug in Queen Regina’s ear too?
I have found the equivalent of IKEA. Only it’s a magical store. It is APALLING how that place is laid out. I was lost in there for hours until Sherard rescued me. I learned very quickly that you cannot trust the arrows painted on the floor; that if you mispronounce any of the product names, you can accidentally summon demons; and worse, walls shift and appear out of nowhere! I refuse to go back in there again.
I found a treadmill! Henri’s right, it was developed for prisoners and it’s really kind of scary looking. Like, it has cuffs on the top handlebar? Not sure I want to get on it, to be honest with you.
Kingstonisms:
• At a rate of knots – to go at top speed, or driving very fast
• Dead on end – when something is lined up perfectly with something else
• Don’t hand me a line – when someone is too busy talking and not actually doing the work
• Dragging your anchor – being impeded by something or acting in a tired manner
• Flogging the glass – leaving your watch ahead of schedule, originated by shaking an hour glass to make time go by faster
• A fluky – light wind that doesn’t blow steadily from any direction, variable
• In the drink – someone that has fallen into the water
• Leading light – someone who marks the way or is a leader; comes from it being customary to mark the entry to a port with a line of leading lights to show the way
• Coddiwomple – to travel purposefully to an as of yet unknown destination
Fusty – rigidly old-fashioned or reactionary
Scurryfunge – a hasty tiding of the house when a last minute guest is coming to visit
A priori – formed or conceived beforehand, something presupposed by experience
Days of the Week
Earth – Draiocht
Sunday – Gods Day
Monday – Gather Day
Tuesday – Brew Day
Wednesday – Bind Day
Thursday – Hex Day
Friday – Scribe Day
Saturday – Rest Day
Months
Earth – Draiocht
January – Old Moon
July – Hay Moon
February – Snow Moon
August – Corn Moon
March – Crow Moon
September – Harvest Moon
April – Seed Moon
October – Hunter’s Moon
May – Hare Moon
November – Frost Moon
June – Rose Moon
December – Blue Moon
Werespecies: werehorses, wereowls, weremules, werefoxes, weredogs, werebadger, weremouse, werewolf, werebeavers, wereelephants
Other books by Honor Raconteur
Published by Raconteur House
♫ Available in Audiobook! ♫
THE ADVENT MAGE CYCLE
Jaunten ♫
Magus ♫
Advent ♫
Balancer ♫
ADVENT MAGE NOVELS
Advent Mage Compendium
The Dragon’s Mage ♫
The Lost Mage
WARLORDS (ADVENT MAGE)
Warlords Rising
Warlords Ascending
Warlords Reigning
THE ARTIFACTOR SERIES
The Child Prince ♫
The Dreamer’s Curse ♫
The Scofflaw Magician
The Canard Case
The Fae Artifactor
THE CASE FILES OF HENRI DAVENFORTH
Magic and the Shinigami Detective
Charms and Death and Explosions (oh my)
Magic Outside the Box
DEEPWOODS SAGA
Deepwoods♫
Blackstone
Fallen Ward
Origins
FAMILIAR AND THE MAGE
The Human Familiar
The Void Mage
Remnants
Echoes
GÆLDORCRÆFT FORCES
Call to Quarters
IMAGINEERS
Imagineer
KINGMAKERS
Arrows of Change ♫
Arrows of Promise
Arrows of Revolution
KINGSLAYER
Kingslayer ♫
Sovran at War ♫
SINGLE TITLES
Special Forces 01
Midnight Quest
THE TOMES OF KALERIA
Tomes Apprentice
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Honor Raconteur is a sucker for a good fantasy. Despite reading it for decades now, she’s never grown tired of the magical world. She likely never will. In between writing books, she trains and plays with her dogs, eats far too much chocolate, and attempts insane things like aerial dance.
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