Murder, Magic, and Moggies

by Pearl Goodfellow

  As soon as I was at the bottom of the stairs, I pulled out the enchanted notepad Mrs. Fearwyn had given me. Opening the door, I took a glimpse of its page in the lamplight. A quick peek told me that it had recorded, perfectly, whatever written materials lay inside Druida's flat.

  The Authoria charm had worked like a charm!

  Most of the text was nonsense: receipts, library business, an overly florid and graphic love letter from Mayor Fog. But, there were also several pages straight from the Witness Protection program, which contained sealed information on the details of Druida faking her death as Luludja Stanka, and the final decision to make the librarian position part of her new life. Not that all of it was worthwhile; she had a lot of haughty demands in letters she had written her protectors over the years. One included a demand for plastic surgery to help her blend in with 'the other beautiful people of the Isle.' Nice try, girlfriend!

  Grabbing my broomstick where I had hidden it behind a drain pipe, I hovered up to the window of Druida’s flat. I discreetly opened the window enough for Eclipse to slip out and jump on the back of my broom. We took to a higher altitude immediately.

  “So, how messy was it?” I asked.

  “It had been completely tossed around,” Eclipse said. “Whoever broke into the place was desperate to find something.”

  “Any way to tell if they—“

  “We’d kind of need to know what that was before we could say that, don’t you think, Hattie?”

  “Alright, alright, just asking,” I said, getting us high enough for the bird enchantment to kick in.

  “And I was just answering…though I could have done better than to imitate my perpetually grumpy sister. For that, I apologize.”

  “Accepted,” I said with a little grin. “Let me ask this: was there anything that stood out in the mess?”

  “Not really. Just a bunch of messy desks and open drawers."

  Mention of desks and papers made me ask, “Wonder if they also went through Druida’s desk at the library?”

  “Very possible,” Eclipse said. “The only REAL security is for the old magical tomes under lock and key. And, as constable patrols are all but nonexistent downtown at this time of night, maybe we should do a little break-in of our own?”

  I could have argued that we should wait for daylight hours, that Reg wouldn’t have minded our looking things over (maybe), that I needed to make a stab at something close to a good night’s sleep, that I didn't need to fall on the wrong side of David again.

  Instead, I said, “Let’s find a discreet spot to park the broom.”

  After the third attempt, I nearly threw my bobby pin across the street. Millie had taught me how to pick locks on a particularly slow day at the shop, but it’d been too long. I remember doing a lot better with those fun experiments than I was with the back door of this library.

  “There’s another way, you know,” Eclipse whispered, his eyes watching the street on the off-chance that a passerby spotted us.

  When I didn't answer, his lead turned up to me, his expression a little stressed out looking. Eclipse wasn't really the kind to break the law, but now that he was implicated with just such lawbreaking, he was getting a little high-strung.

  "Do I really have to spell it out?" he hissed, eyes like black marbles. "The REFO—“

  "Ah, the Reforma Spell!" My hands shaking with nervous excitement, I took a breath and unleashed.

  I heard the metal on the lock snap in a minor key as I finished the charm. The door slid open, perfectly silent on its well-oiled hinges, allowing us to slip inside. Eclipse thoughtfully pushed the door closed with his back foot, shooting off an Obliviscatur at the empty air before he shut out the outside world.

  Only the emergency lights were on inside the Mason, giving us plenty of dark places to hide but just enough visibility to see. We tiptoed toward Druida's office, but just as we were heading down the central promenade, I heard movement, followed by a male voice singing.

  Ducking back in the shadows, I saw Reg adding some books to the Gris-Gris magic section. Must have been some of the rescues from the Scroll, I thought. He was singing a song I recognized and which also gave me the chills: "Ding, dong, the witch is dead. Which old witch? The Wicked Witch!"

  Eclipse and I gave each other a grave look, and I nodded toward the central counter. We tiptoed to a safe hiding space just in front of the desk without being seen. I shot toward Druida's office, Eclipse right at my heels.

  Druida’s old desk slouched in the back corner, looking as forlorn as a dog whose mistress had just died that morning. I was a little surprised to find all the drawers on it unlocked. But then I reasoned that no one else wanted to be closer to Druida than they had to be (Marty Fog excluded) and Reg was sure never going to pilfer through her personal items. Therefore, why lock it?

  A stack of letters, bound together by string, was buried in the back of the top right drawer. I made a quick inventory of the blank pages I had remaining in the Authoria notepad. To my surprise, I noticed I probably had enough to fill an entire encyclopedia volume. After maybe the thirtieth blank page, I activated the charm. An odd language began to appear on the blank pages, filling them in like a 20th Century photograph developing in a darkroom.

  “This look familiar to you, Eclipse?” I asked my kitty partner in crime.

  Glancing over the words, he declared, “This looks to be a Romani variant on Prussian-German, which, given what we now know, is likely Druida’s real mother tongue.”

  The text of the first letter in front of me bore this out. It was addressed to “Luludja” and was signed by someone named “Daiena.” The sending address had come from Talisman, which made me flip back to the copies I had made of the documents at Druida’s apartment. Sure enough, Daiena was listed as Luludja’s sister and only living next of kin. She came up a lot in letters of the cease-and-desist variety over unauthorized contact between the two of them.

  Eclipse nudged me with his paw. “I think it’s done, Hattie.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Let’s just say the magical current I saw between the notepad and the stack has—“

  Reg suddenly walked in and turned on the lights. It took him all of two seconds to see us crouching at Druida’s desk.

  “Ms. Jenkins,” he said. “What are you—“

  His face went blank as Eclipse’s Obliviscatur charm hit him in the face. I shoved the letters back where I found them, flipped off the light as I ran past Reg and flew out the back door. I released the Reforma spell on the latter once I was on the other side. The metal mended itself in a major key as I did. Damn! 'Clipsy! I'd forgotten my cat on the inside.

  I put my ear to the door and heard Reg say, “Huh? What? Ugh. Ok, buster, time for you to hit the hay, you're hallucinating.”

  Just as I was about to redo the Reforma spell, I saw my tubby kitty dangling halfway in, halfway out from a small window next to the door. I knew my complicated feline didn't like to be touched, (unless he felt like it, of course, but then he'd always let me know when), so I watched him struggle for a full thirty seconds, before his grunting and shuffling paid off.

  He landed on his feet, slightly startled that he was finally free.

  Eclipse’s face looked vaguely disgusted. "How the Bast does Carbon squeeze through such small spaces?"

  "Why don't we ask your brother that tomorrow?" I asked.

  Eclipse nodded. "This has been fun, but I've had enough excitement for one night.”

  Too true, 'Clipsy. Too true.

  I was just tired enough to be irritated by the kitty banter going on as I climbed into bed.

  “And here I was thinking that you were definitely going to get caught this time,” Gloom muttered from her side of the bed.

  “I, for one, am rather glad that was not so,” Onyx opined, rubbing up against some leatherbound books on a wall shelf next to the window.

  “But why didn’t you tell us what you were planning in the first place?” Fraidy’s voice asked from
under the bed.

  “Well, thanks largely to me, nothing terrible happened to our human, so it’s a moot point,” Eclipse offered. “And we managed to find some intriguing evidence, so it wasn't a wasted journey.”

  “Just wish I could translate all those letters from Druida's desk,” I said, glancing at the copies made in the Authoria pad.

  Then I noticed that Onyx was rubbing one book in particular on the shelf. “Find something new in your life, Onyx?” I quipped.

  “Actually, something very old, Hattie,” Onyx countered as he jumped off the shelf. “Something, I might add, that belonged to your grandmother.”

  That was as much of a hint as I was going to get. I took the book off the shelf and found it was a complete guide to Romani dialects. I found a match for the one that the letters were written in a quarter of the way through.

  I flipped through the notepad until I reached the most recent date entries. There was enough space between the lines for an English translation to be recorded. In the letter, to a woman named Daeina, Druida mentioned Mayor Fog’s extremely unwelcome advances, the feeling of being watched and one casual aside that got my attention.

  “I thought that leaving Witness Protection three years ago would make me freer,” I read aloud. “What a fool I was, dear sister…I am just as constrained by who I have become as I ever was by who I used to be.”

  “Was she nuts?” Fraidy yelped in alarm. “The key word in Witness Protection is ‘Protection,' something she was going to need to—“

  “She probably thought she was safe,” Gloom grumbled. “Dummy never considered WHY she was safe in the first place.”

  “She probably thought that the world had forgotten about her,” Eclipse said. “But there’s nothing like an indiscreet letter to make them remember.”

  While they were chattering, I was looking at the Witness Protection notes. The suits in the program had protested Druida’s leaving the program, citing the unknown status and location of all remaining Besnick Cartel associates. But Druida was tired of being told what to do apparently, and that was that.

  “Could be that there was an unknown mole within the Ministry who knew about all this,” Midnight said, stepping out of the shadow. “Wouldn’t even need to be human…my pixie contacts get all sorts of juicy intel out of the ministries.”

  “But, are we even sure that this is anyone associated with Besnick?” Onyx asked. “None of the evidence has disproved the notion that this might have been a grudge closer to home.”

  “Something I’ll run with in the morning,” I said, putting down the notepad, and blowing out the nightstand candle. “Right now I’m going to take Maude’s advice and get some badly needed sleep.”

  But given what Bertha had told me today, I had already made up my mind to talk to Artemus Cave tomorrow.

  Chapter 19

  I had a stack of notes under my arm as I walked into Celestial Cakes in the early afternoon. I’d spent the morning taking care of a few shop details, re-ordering supplies, making a few pre-prepared ointments, etc. I didn’t really expect to find Artemus at the bakery, but, on the off-chance he was, I wanted to have a good excuse for seeing him. And eating a delectable snack in Gabrielle’s café was the ultimate excuse. But, if push came to shove, I could always try his place on the coast, citing a flying visit. Like, literally.

  As it turned out, he was right by the counter when I walked in. I wasn’t terribly surprised - as moonstruck as he was, he would have found any excuse to be near the former golem. I noted the walking stick leaning against the counter as I tapped him on the shoulder.

  Artemus’ face broke out into a surprised but pleased smile at the sight of me. “Well, this is a nice surprise! Twice in as many days.?” He pumped my hand vigorously.

  “I could say the same thing." I teased.

  He chuckled as I sat down beside him. “Actually, I'm here to meet my step-sister. She's insisted on meeting Gabrielle to make sure I'm not going astray. Older sisters can be quite protective in that respect.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I said, smiling.

  “Only child?”

  I nodded.

  “Worse luck,” he sighed. “But never mind that. What fascinating details are in those papers you're clutching there?” Artemus nodded toward my folder of messy notes.

  “I recently came across some exotic botanical samples from one of the more isolated isles,” I said, threading the truth carefully. “Spent a good part of yesterday running tests on what I found. On the off-chance that it could help with the Strands psychosis cure, I thought you might be able to—“

  “Say no more,” Artemus said, holding up his hand. “May I…?”

  I handed him my notes, and he began looking them over. I glanced behind the counter to see Gabrielle busying herself with a counter full of pastry dough. Noting the scarcity of treats in the counter case, I guessed that she was replenishing her stock from the morning rush.

  My stomach dropped as Raquel Berry walked in the door. She froze as she took a good look at me and then Artemus. A frown came across her mouth as she walked up to us.

  “Please tell me, little brother, that this ISN’T the woman you wanted me to meet,” she said, mouth agape.

  Artemus looked up in confusion. “Have you two already met?”

  “He’s your brother?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  “We grew up in the same household, foster care,” Berry said. “Not that it's any of your business.”

  “I believe I am the woman you came here to see, Ms. Berry,” Gabrielle smoothly cut in while handing Artemus one of her freshly baked croissants.

  “However,” she added in a matter-of-fact tone. “I must insist on a little more of a friendly tone, when it comes to addressing my customers. Hattie here is one of the only true friends I have outside of my creator, who is on the Mainland.”

  Berry got it right away. “So, you’re a golem.” She didn't ask, just stated the simple fact.

  “Ex-golem,” Gabrielle and I said at the same time, prompting both of us to giggle like little schoolgirls.

  Artemus, apparently feeling a little overwhelmed, decided the papers I had handed him were more interesting than the awkward conversation at hand.

  “I’ve heard that you golems can’t lie,” Berry said, leaning across the counter in what she thought was an intimidating stance.

  “I find anything but the truth distasteful,” Gabrielle answered, unfazed.

  “Then what are your intentions for my brother?”

  “To love him as much as he loves me, to watch out for him and to make sure he gets regular meals. I know he skips them when he's not here at the bakery.”

  That made Artemus look up from his papers.

  “Don’t even THINK about lying about that one, Artemus,” Berry said to him with a pointed finger.

  Then turning her attention back to Gabrielle and flipping her hair, she added, “You spin a nice story. But I am going to be very, very displeased if you break my brother’s heart. He's had enough struggle, what with Druida Stone's literary take-down, and whatnot."

  Berry then sighed and softened. "I can see you'll do a fine job of looking after my young brother here."

  Gabrielle and Artemus exchanged a glance that only secret-lovers could hope to interpret. My insides were all aglow at witnessing such a tender act of emotion.

  "Artemus, tell me about your latest work," Berry demanded. Artemus began to chatter excitedly. I caught Gabrielle's gaze, and she motioned me with her head to follow her to the storeroom.

  Once there, she asked in a level tone: “Satisfied that the cane Artemus is using isn't the one you were looking for?”

  “You noticed what I was doing?” My eyes widened in admiration for this woman's astuteness.

  “You were not obvious about it, but yes,” came Gabrielle's response. “I have an eye for details and anomalies."

  I raised my eyebrows. "Anomalies? That's a strange word choice for --"

  Gabrielle cut me off. "I'm
talking about the Strands anomaly. You haven't noticed that all the Stranded are Awakened witches and wizards?"

  "Well, yeah, but it makes sense that the users be from the magical community. I mean, it's a magical plant."

  "That's true, but there are other magical folk besides Witches and Wizards," she stated simply. "There are no Warlocks Stranded. And, for that matter, there are no Fae victims either."

  Her observation genuinely startled me. A quick mental review seemed to confirm her observations, but I’d have to check with David to know if there was something to it. Weirdsville. I shook a nagging sense of dread from my body.

  “In any case,” she went on to say. “Do you now have enough evidence to clear your name in Druida Stone’s murder?”

  “I think so,” I admitted. “But I’d appreciate it if—“

  “Only you can break that news,” Gabrielle assured me with a pat on my arm.

  We rejoined Artemus and Raquel at the table. Berry gave another hair flip as she let out a sharp breath.

  “I think that I owe you an apology, Hattie Jenkins,” she said, the reluctance laced through her words. “Artemus has a lot of faults—“

  “Thank you so much for that,” Artemus said with a playful jab at her ribs.

  “-- but, as we’re all here, at the finest bakery this town has to offer, my treat for lunch?”

  “Already have it covered,” Gabrielle said without missing a beat and turned to bring us what she had prepared.

  Artemus' head was still in the notes I'd given him.

  I knew that he had seen something interesting because his eyes widened as he stared at a particular line of text. “Hattie, where did you find these samples?”

  “Just on one of the more reclusive, desolate isles, like I said,” I answered, not giving any more specific info.

  “After we're done eating, can I get a lift from you back to my place?” he asked, handing me back the papers. “There is something I need to check.”

  “What’s going on, Artemus?” Berry asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Nothing that won’t wait until after lunch,” he assured his sister. “But if I’m right, it IS important.”