by Lily Webb
“No, you’re right. If we got rid of the farm, we might lose them too. Mom and Dad probably wouldn’t think to come to Moon Grove to look for us,” I said without knowing if it was true.
“Prolly not,” Grandma said.
“Then what are we gonna do?” I asked.
“Maybe you could apply for a loan to build a house instead of buying one,” Flora said. For a moment, I’d forgotten she was there.
“A loan?” I asked, a light bulb going off in my head. I’d assumed we’d be going to the Bank of Moon Grove to apply for a mortgage, not a loan, but either way it killed two vampires with one stake. The more contact I had with people at the bank, the more likely I was to understand the tip someone had sent me about it.
“That’s a darn tootin’ good idea,” Grandma said, beaming. I had to agree.
“I was planning to go there tomorrow morning for a story, anyway. Are you free then?” I asked.
“You kiddin’? I ain’t got nothin’ but time. I’m retired now, remember?” Grandma asked.
“So we’re really gonna do this? We’re gonna build a house here?” I asked. Grandma’s smile widened.
“You bet your tush we are,” Grandma said. “And it’s gonna be the best one on the block because the Clarkes ain’t about to get shown up.”
“Well, I think you’re putting the witch before the broom. We have to see how good of a loan we can get first,” I said.
“You leave all the talkin’ to me, Sugar. Your ol’ granny’s got a silver tongue to match her silver hair,” Grandma said as she fluffed her white curls.
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” I muttered and Flora choked on her food.
“You wait ‘n see, we’re gonna walk outta there with more money than you can wave a wand at,” Grandma said.
“You make it sound like we’re gonna rob the place,” I said.
“By the time I’m done with ‘em, they’ll think we did,” Grandma said, her eyes twinkling.
Chapter Two
The sun had barely risen when I arrived at Raina Woods’ house the next morning to pick up Grandma. Raina had already left for Veilside Academy of Magic — evidently the job of a Headmistress started early — but Grandma greeted me with a smile when she opened the door.
Tierney, Raina’s cranky cat familiar, hissed at me from the living room.
“Oh, hush it, you,” Grandma called over her shoulder and Tierney growled and ran into Raina’s room.
“He’s never liked me, don’t take it personally,” I said.
“See, I think he’s jealous,” Grandma said. “He doesn’t want me runnin’ off without our morning session of petting.”
“What a tough life,” I said and Grandma chuckled.
“Right? I swear, when I pass I wanna come back as a cat in my household. I’ll never want for nothin’ again,” Grandma said.
“Sounds perfect. You ready?”
“I reckon I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. What about you?” Grandma asked.
Truthfully, I wasn’t looking forward to whatever nonsense Grandma was sure to pull while we were in the bank, but I had trouble sending undercooked food back at a restaurant so maybe it was smart to let Grandma do all the talking.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” I said and moved aside. Grandma closed and locked the door behind her and we walked northeast toward Veilside Academy and the Bank of Moon Grove. I’d only been once before when Flora took me to set up a bank account not long after I moved to town and I didn’t remember much about it.
But when we reached the bank, the imposing façade of the building impressed me all over again. A grand staircase flanked by immaculate, magical shrubbery led to an equally grand entrance. Four massive stone pillars held up a curved roof topped by a gigantic, golden crescent moon. Beneath the moon but above the door, a red banner adorned with matching gold text read, “The Bank of Moon Grove, Where Money is Magic.”
Grandma scoffed. “They don’t really like to downplay things ‘round here, do they?”
“No, I guess not. But isn’t that the point of having more money than you know what to do with?” I asked. “Hopefully, that means they’ve got more than enough to lend us.”
“That’s the spirit, Sugar,” Grandma said and made her way up the stone staircase. I followed her to a matching set of glass doors adorned with crescent moon-shaped handles. Grandma flung them open and let out a gasp.
A massive crystal chandelier hung from the vaulted stone ceiling, scattering light across the marble floors where it bounced off the polished surface and nearly blinded me. A dozen stone pillars in neat rows held the roof above us like Atlas, and on either side of the room, offices made of glass lined the walls. Clearly, the staff didn’t believe in secrets — or maybe they preferred to keep them hidden in plain sight.
Far off at the back of the large room, three towering vault doors stood sentinel, each fashioned from reflective steel and sealed shut by an intimidating lock. The door in the center dwarfed the two flanking it and I could only imagine the kind of money and secrets that were locked inside.
“Welcome to the Bank of Moon Grove. My name’s Eric, how can I assist you today?” asked a young warlock seated at a desk to my left as we stood dumbstruck. Eric pushed his glasses up his nose as he stepped around the desk.
“Good morning. My grandmother and I are here to apply for a loan,” I said, unable to take my eyes off the vault doors.
“I see. May I ask what the loan is for?” Eric asked. His brown hair was slicked back with gel and the royal blue robes he wore matched those of everyone else in the bank — who were also all warlocks. Finance was a man’s world, indeed.
“We’re fixin’ to build a house,” Grandma answered for me.
“So we’re talking about a larger than normal loan. For that we’ll need the help of one of our senior partners,” the warlock said. “This way, please.”
Without waiting for me to answer, Eric led us deeper into the bank toward the vaults and a row of five desks on either side. He stopped at the last on the right where two warlocks were deep in what seemed to be a heated conversation.
“My colleague Xander will be happy to assist you from here,” Eric said loudly like he was trying to get Xander’s attention.
Beyond Xander, six scowling gargoyles stood with their bulging arms crossed over scaled chests, the only separation between customers and the vaults. I knew the gargoyles did security for the Council of Moon Grove, but I had no idea they were also employed by the bank. Given their stony physiques and talonlike claws, I didn’t blame the bank for hiring them.
“Percy’s a fool if he thinks this is going to go over well,” the older warlock with grey streaks at his temples muttered to Xander and my ears perked. Were they talking about Percy Thornheart, the owner of the bank — and if so, why? Careful not to let them notice I was listening, I strained to hear.
“You and I both know that, but that’s not going to stop him,” Xander said.
“No, it won’t. The only thing Percy listens to is his own greed,” the older warlock said before he noticed us standing there. He cleared his throat, his face red. A golden name tag hanging from his robes glinted in the light from the chandelier: Victor Thornheart.
“It appears you have a customer waiting, so we’ll have to table this for now,” Victor said and flashed me a smile.
“Good morning, ladies,” Xander said. “How can we be of assistance today?” He seemed nervous, like he was new on the job — or maybe he was flustered because he knew we’d overheard him talking trash about his boss.
“I done told your friend over there we’re here to apply for a loan,” Grandma said, annoyed. I flashed her a look to tell her to back off and she shrugged at me.
“You have to excuse Xander, he’s not very observant,” Victor said. “But in any case, I’ll be the one approving or denying your application, so maybe we’ll bypass him.”
“And you are?” Grandma asked.
“Victor Thornheart, co-owner
and operations manager,” Victor said as he tapped his name tag.
“You wouldn’t happen to be related to Percy, would you?” I asked and Victor smirked.
“That’s my brother, for better or worse,” Victor said, and despite his smile I found it hard to believe he was happy about the relation.
“So you’re definitely the one I need to sweet talk,” Grandma said and Victor chuckled.
“Good luck. I’ve been around the block a few times, I know how to say no,” Victor said.
“We’ll see about that,” Grandma said.
“Indeed, we will. Please, join me in my office and we can discuss the details,” Victor said, gesturing over his shoulder at the nearest glass cubicle. Inside, his office was as plain as any other. Victor pulled out two chairs for us.
He stepped behind the desk and fell down into his chair, resting his hands on his stomach. Victor beamed at us, reminding me of a used car salesman — lots of fast talk and fake smiles.
“So, tell me about the loan you’re interested in. How much are we talking?” Victor asked.
“That depends on how much you’re willin’ to give us,” Grandma said and Victor laughed.
“You don’t beat around the bush, I like that,” Victor said.
“Ain’t no sense in it. Either you’ll say yes or no. Bein’ direct saves us both time,” Grandma said. Victor opened his mouth to say something slick in return, no doubt, but he never got it out because shouts filled the bank, bouncing off the polished floors and matching marble walls.
The words were an indiscernible garble, but they didn’t sound pleasant. I whirled in my seat and peered through the glass to find the gargoyles already on the move, heading toward the office directly across from Victor’s.
“I’m very sorry for the trouble, ladies,” Victor said. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
Victor dashed out of his office and across the bank to investigate, but one of the gargoyles stopped him.
“What in tarnation’s goin’ on out there?” Grandma asked.
“Someone’s not happy but I couldn’t tell you why,” I said.
“I’ve only been here ten minutes and I’m ready to start screamin’ myself so I don’t blame ‘em,” Grandma said.
“Shh,” I said, straining to hear, but I didn’t need to because a moment later two gargoyles hauled out a ragged-looking warlock in soiled black robes. His long, wiry white beard hung to the center of his chest like a bib. The gargoyles held the warlock’s arms behind his back and marched him toward the front door as he continued to shout.
“You’re all a bunch of lying cheats! You’ll get what’s coming to you, you mark my words!” the warlock shouted, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth as he twisted and squirmed to break free of the gargoyle’s grip.
If they’d wanted to, the gargoyles could’ve torn the warlock to shreds, but instead they tossed him out the front door and stood blocking it so he couldn’t come back inside. The warlock dusted off his robes, tossed his beard over one shoulder like a cape, and scowled at the gargoyles.
“How dare you humiliate me this way after you stole all my money? Percy Thornheart, you haven’t seen the last of me!” the warlock shouted through the glass doors as he banged a fist against them and the gargoyles tensed like they thought they might need to restrain him again.
“What the heck is wrong with that one?” Grandma whispered.
“No idea, but it’s making me second guess asking for a loan from these guys,” I said.
“What other choice we got? There ain’t any other banks in town,” Grandma said. “And Gandalf over there looks a lil’ rough around the edges anyway so I’m sure we ain’t gettin’ the full story.”
“No, you’re probably right,” I said.
Victor whisked across the lobby back to his office and flashed us his fake smile as he entered.
“So, where were we?” he asked. Grandma and I exchanged looks — was he really going to pretend like we hadn’t seen what happened? — and Victor laughed.
“You don’t have to worry about Mr. Bloodworth. He’s a little aggravated, but harmless,” Victor said.
“Aggravated? He threatened the owner of your bank,” I said. “I’d say that’s far more than aggravated.”
“He’s full of hot air,” Victor said. “Trust me, this isn’t the first time he’s come in here shouting and making a scene. It’s hardly good for business, but I think he got the message this go around.”
“Wait, did you say Bloodworth? Is he related to Councilwoman Bloodworth?” I asked. Victor’s face flushed but his forced smile never faded.
“He is. Becker Bloodworth is the brother of Dawn Bloodworth and the owner of Bloodworth’s Wand Shop,” Victor said.
“Thank Lilith I didn’t get my wand from him then. I’d be afraid it would backfire on me if I made him angry,” I said. “What’s he so upset about anyway?”
“It’s not important, but even if it was, I’m not allowed to discuss the details of other clients,” Victor said. He didn’t seem to have any issue discussing his brother with a subordinate, though.
“Are you guys lying cheats?” I asked. Based on what I’d seen, I had a hard time believing otherwise. Victor sighed and shook his head.
“No. It’s not our fault that Mr. Bloodworth failed to read the fine print on his loan,” Victor said. So much for not discussing details.
“That’s why he was screaming at your brother so loudly everyone heard?” I asked.
“Yes. Mr. Bloodworth has had difficulty repaying his loan and the fees for missed payments are substantial. I assure you, we’re neither liars nor cheats. The terms in Mr. Bloodworth’s loan were clearly outlined from the beginning,” Victor said. “Would it ease your mind if you spoke to my brother about our operation?”
“I reckon it can’t hurt,” Grandma said, and I almost hugged her. More than anyone else, I wanted to talk to Percy.
“It won’t. Give me a moment to make sure he’s available and I’ll introduce you,” Victor said as he slipped out of the office once again.
“That Bloodworth guy scares me,” I said. The message I’d received at work the day before flashed in my mind: The Bank of Moon Grove is in big trouble. Percy Thornheart knows why. Could it have been Becker who sent the message in the first place? Had he been planning some sort of revenge all along?
“He’s definitely a lil’ odd, but I don’t think them gargoyles are gonna let him get within a bull’s feather of here again,” Grandma said. I hoped she was right, but the pit of dread in my stomach said otherwise.
Before I pushed the issue any further, Victor strolled back into the office and held the door open as he gestured for us to follow him. I crossed the lobby, my eyes locked on the front door the entire time. Becker was gone and I knew I was probably paranoid, but I’d survived one too many attempts on my life recently to be anything other than vigilant.
“This way,” Victor said and walked us to Percy’s office. A short, round man in a pinstripe suit with a bushy white mustache sat behind the desk with his side to us, his feet kicked up on his desk while he talked to someone on the phone.
Victor cleared his throat as we entered. Percy hurriedly ended the phone call and spun around in his chair, beaming. Round glasses rested on his puffy, rosy cheeks, which combined with his mustache made him look like Santa Claus in a business suit. Why didn’t he have to wear the blue robes like everyone else did?
“I’ll leave you with my brother. If you have any other questions he can’t answer, don’t hesitate to ask me before you go,” Victor said.
“Thank you, Victor,” Percy said as the door swung shut behind us. I watched Victor go back to Xander’s desk and didn’t fail to notice the two of them staring at us as they gossiped, no doubt about Becker and whatever Percy had said to him to make him flip his lid.
“Please, have a seat, make yourselves comfortable,” Percy said, gesturing at the two empty chairs on the opposite side of his desk.
I sank
down next to Grandma feeling the exact opposite.
Chapter Three
“What questions or concerns can I address for you two lovely ladies on this beautiful day?” Percy asked as he reclined in his chair and nearly knocked his phone off his desk in the process.
Where Victor was thin and lithe, Percy was as unwieldy as a gargoyle in a potions shop — but the one thing they had in common was their overbearing, overeager salesman smiles.
“You can start with the warlock that got tossed out of here,” I said. Percy’s smile faltered, but he rallied quickly.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. Unfortunately, Mr. Bloodworth has been a problem for some time, but I assure you, he won’t be going forward,” Percy said.
“What’s his deal?”
“Business has slowed for all of us in Moon Grove lately, as I’m sure you’re already aware, Ms. Clarke,” Percy said, the lenses of his glasses flashing in the light from above. He raised his eyebrows at me. “Of course, I know who you are.”
“I’m flattered,” I said, though I meant the opposite. “So he was behind on his payments?”
“Essentially,” Percy said. “Mr. Bloodworth came to ask for our help in arranging a repayment schedule, but unfortunately we’d already been forced to forward his case to collections.”
Well, that explained why Becker was so angry. If I’d been given a loan only to get thrown to the debt sharks when I was down and out, I’d be upset too.
“But on to more important matters. Victor told me the two of you are interested in applying for a loan to construct a new home,” Percy said.
“We’re on the fence,” I said before Grandma confirmed. Circumstances had definitely changed since we first walked into the bank.
“I understand, it’s a large investment. Do you have any questions I might be able to answer that could help you make up your minds? I’d love nothing more than to see you leave here today with your finances in order,” Percy said.
He was slick, I had to give him that, but I wasn’t so easily swayed. Years of talking to slippery politicians in my life as a journalist had trained me better than that.
