by Nova Nelson
Chapter Five
Opal closed the door behind them, remaining inside and allowing Zax a minute alone with Ruby and Bloom. The sheriff could tell there was something more he wanted to say to them. She sensed it almost as strongly as she’d sensed the strange, nebulous guilt issuing from Opal in heavy waves just moments before.
As soon as they were a safe distance from the home, Zax confirmed Bloom’s suspicion, saying, “Please don’t listen to anything about Taurus.”
“Don’t worry,” said Bloom. “We aren’t. But the fact that the rumor has been floating around and now there’s been one attack and one disappearance, well, I don’t think it’s entirely insignificant.” She paused, narrowing her eyes at him. “Where do you think Swamy is?”
“No clue. He’s a quiet man. The kind to sit back and observe more than participate. Opal is a bit much to handle, if you couldn’t tell, and they balance each other out, I’ve always thought. But Swamy never struck me as a simple man. You can tell there’s a lot going on behind those eyes. But he never causes any trouble, so I’ve never had reason to suspect anything churning in that brain of his is anything but good.” He shrugged, throwing his arms into the air defeatedly. “Although who even knows? Maybe he is a little slow on the uptake and all that thinking is necessary for him to walk and breathe at the same time.”
Bloom asked, “Is it possible he went into the Deadwoods?”
“Anything’s possible. I warn all my bears away from it, but some prefer the danger of it. As far as I’m aware, Swamy was never one of those.”
The sheriff nodded. “Well, let us know if you hear anything from him. If we still haven’t located him by tomorrow, we’ll set up an official search party. Deputy Titterfield can lead it. One last thing—where could I find Virgil Pine?”
Zax considered it. “Probably at work. He waits tables at Treetop Lodge. He should be there.”
Bloom thanked him, and he nodded before addressing Ruby. “I hope your visit to Fluke Mountain was everything you thought it’d be.”
She grinned. “Oh yes.”
“Enough to bring you back?”
“Let’s hope not. Not under these circumstances, at least.”
He chuckled. “Certainly not.” Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a silver coin. “But just in case, here’s a little something for the trouble of keeping your Fifth Wind eye open for any sign of Swamy.”
Ruby hesitated only a moment before taking the coin from him and slipping it into her pocket. “Fair enough.”
Typical, thought Bloom. Then, But good for her.
As the women and Clifford approached the front of the lodge, having parted ways with the werebear, Bloom could hold it in no longer. “I wouldn’t have guessed him as your type,” she said.
“And you would have been right,” Ruby replied quickly.
Good goddess, why wouldn’t the witch just admit it? It might do her a little good to find a nice gentleman suitor and have a little romp. And if that gentleman suitor was also a member of the High Council, well, that favorable connection wouldn’t ruin Bloom’s day. Obviously, Ruby’s happiness came first, but if there was a side benefit for the Sheriff’s Department in it, it was Bloom’s duty to embrace that. Her civic duty, no less. “Deny it all you want, but I saw the way you two looked at each other.”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“You can’t deny he’s easy on the eyes.”
“I won’t even try denying that. Now, back to business, what was your read on Opal?”
The sheriff shrugged and decided to give it a rest… for now. “About what you would guess. Guilt pulsing from her. I doubt you need my special powers of judgement to have sensed that, though.”
“Guilty as in she has something to do with his disappearance?”
“Possibly. All I could tell was that the guilt had to do with their relationship, but you know how messy romantic relationships can get.”
“I don’t, actually.”
Bloom stopped walking, and Ruby did the same, looking up into the angel’s soft face.
“Ezra?” Bloom said.
Ruby rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t even a little bit complicated. It was quite simple, actually. That’s why I had no problem breaking it off.”
Unbelievable, thought Bloom, remembering how long that particular break-up had dragged out. That was one of the benefits of being immortal—a memory like a steel trap. Not only did it benefit her in the line of duty, but it meant she could keep track of history in a much more accurate way than most mortals. And Ruby’s relationship with Ezra, especially the end of it, had been anything but simple.
“Do you consider every matter simple?” she asked.
Ruby appeared undeterred. “Perhaps I just see no reason to make things complicated.”
Bloom sighed, but relented. For now. “And perhaps that’s why I like you.”
The lobby of Treetop Lodge smelled like evergreen and earth, not too unlike the outdoors they’d just left, but with a hint of something sweeter and cleaner in the mix. Lemon, perhaps? People whom Ruby presumed to be werebears lounged around on the oversized leather couches near a twenty-foot fireplace, reading, talking softly, or simply napping. Ruby hadn’t spent much time around werebears, but she suspected, based on the current observed behavior, she might get on with them quite well on the whole.
Virgil worked in the restaurant of the lodge, and a kind woman at the front desk directed them toward it, but not before eyeing Bloom’s badge with poorly disguised concern.
The fact that everyone acted that way whenever Gabby Bloom went anywhere was one of Ruby’s favorite parts about teaming up with the angel. She quite enjoyed discovering how each new person reacted to the sheriff’s presence. Some of the facial tics she’d observed while folks struggled to hide their mingling reverence and contempt could be quite entertaining. One time, years ago, she and Bloom had arrived at the home of a murderous werewolf, and the simple sight of the sheriff had set the suspect to drooling uncontrollably.
Although, it was rare anyone was so obvious with their emotions. So, Ruby had developed a hobby of close inspection.
No one at Treetop Lodge had even gotten close to drooling. They seemed to exhibit the usual amount of paranoia at seeing law enforcement (and a Fifth Wind—always unnerving) show up unexpectedly.
Ruby, Bloom, and Clifford stopped at the host stand and, as they waited to be greeted, Ruby looked around. Early supper diners occupied a few of the tables, but business still appeared rather slow. However, the earthy scents of the lobby were now overpowered by the strong, savory smell of beef stew. Her mouth watered. If anyone knew how to prepare meat, it would be the werebears. The werewolves didn’t strike her as the type to have the patience or the desire to put that much effort into their food. When it came to raw meat, though, they did hold a strong appreciation, and for that reason they had a bit of a lock on the butcher scene around town.
“Maybe we should forget this whole investigation and grab something to eat,” Sheriff Bloom murmured, practically reading Ruby’s mind.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t do both.”
“I’m in,” came Clifford’s deep voice.
But before a host came by and tempted them with an offer of a table, Bloom nodded at a waiter across the dining room and said, “That must be him. He looks like every Pine I’ve ever met.”
Ruby hadn’t met a Pine before, so she couldn’t vouch for that. But she did take in the young man’s appearance carefully, for future reference. He looked to be in his early twenties and was broad shouldered, likely a few inches shorter than Bloom, although that didn’t mean he was short. His skin was chestnut brown from the sun, and his face was a bit bland, but not unpleasing.
She was grateful to have seen him first in a candid moment, when he was lost in his duties and didn’t know he was being observed, likely so deep in his own routines that he wasn’t consciously doing anything. Those were the most telling moments, in her opinion. You could glean a lot from a
person’s expression when it was at its baseline. And his expression was one of moderate consternation—his eyes pinched slightly at the outer edges, his lips parted gently with the corners turned down in a mild grimace like the world itself was just a little too much for him to make sense of.
“More importantly,” Ruby added, “look at his arm.”
His forearm was wrapped in a cloth bandage as he carried out a steamy tray and placed each plate in front of the couple at the table.
“Defensive wounds if I ever saw them,” Bloom said before she strode forward, heading not directly for him but back toward the kitchen to cut him off.
“Virgil Pine?” she said when he approached cautiously.
He blinked rapidly, jolting out of the flow of his routine. “Yes, ma’am, Sheriff. What can I do for you?” His attention jumped to Ruby, who grinned at him but said nothing.
“We were just chatting with Zax Banderfield, and he said we ought to come ask you about what happened in the woods the other night.”
His parted lips pressed tightly together, and he froze momentarily before looking around. “Let me put this tray away and I’ll meet you out back.”
Ruby and Bloom agreed, and after waiting for close to five minutes, Ruby was growing anxious. But no sooner had she asked Bloom, “You think he took off?” before the back door swung open and Virgil stepped out.
He appeared slightly less agitated than before when he said, “Sorry, had to get someone to cover my tables. What can I help you with?”
Sheriff Bloom took the lead. “Just the story of what happened to you. I understand you got in a tussle with a werebear?”
“It wasn’t a werebear,” he said sharply, but the frightened expression that followed his words indicated that he wished he could take them back.
Bloom nodded sympathetically. “What was it then?”
His gaze jumped between the two women. “It was a… well, I don’t really know.”
Feeling her stomach grumble and remembering the delicious scent of stew, Ruby was about ready to move on with her day, preferably landing somewhere that served warm meats (Clifford would back her up on that decision, she was sure), and she wanted to get to the point. “We heard you believe Taurus attacked you.”
Virgil, who may not have been exceptionally tall but made up for it in muscle, blinked nervously. “Zax told you that?”
“Yes,” Ruby said. “Did you lie to him? Was it not Taurus?”
He inhaled deeply, puffing up his chest, then deflated and said, “No, it was Taurus. I’d swear it on my life.”
Bloom cut in, “Now, from my understanding of the situation and the legend of Taurus, there is a slight possibility that you were simply attacked by a local minotaur rather than the one from the stories, correct?”
“No,” Virgil said stubbornly. “It wasn’t a minotaur.”
Bloom was undeterred. “But Taurus, according to legend, is a minotaur, is he not?”
Virgil shook his head. “No, not quite. He’s got the head of a bull and the torso of a man, but from the waist down, he’s all bear.”
Ruby and Bloom exchanged a glance, and Bloom said, “So he’s a man-bear-bull.” She paused. “Bull-man-bear?”
Virgil nodded like that wasn’t at all a weird combination of things to be.
Bloom followed up. “And you’re sure that the thing that attacked you fit that description?”
“Absolutely.”
Ruby admired Bloom’s ability to keep an even tone as she said, “It’s just that sometimes it’s difficult to make out all the details of something when it sneaks up on you and attacks, especially in the middle of the night.”
“I understand that, and you make a good point. But the moon was nearly full, and in my bear form, my sight’s great at night. Also, I saw the thing plain as day before it attacked me.”
An eyebrow shooting up her forehead indicated that Bloom’s interest was officially piqued. “You saw it plain as day? What, was it just standing there staring at you?”
Ruby imagined a man-bear-bull standing and waving like a fool, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
“Pretty much,” Virgil said. “I saw it across the clearing, and it was staring right at me. Looked exactly like Taurus. And there’s been talk among the sleuth lately about the legend rising again. So my mind went straight to that.”
The sheriff shot Ruby a quick inquisitive glance before saying, “What do you mean, talk? What are people saying, and who’s saying it?”
He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, everyone’s been talking about it. I mean, we all knew about it growing up. It was a story our parents told us to keep us from running in the forest alone before we were of age. But lately, it’s been coming up in conversation a lot more.”
“How do people bring it into the conversation?”
He wobbled his head from side to side, “You know, just mentioning it. Joking about it. Someone at dinner the other night mentioned that it was about time for it to return. I admit, I didn’t know about that part of the legend, but apparently Taurus rises every four hundred and forty-four years. And we’re due for it this year.” He paused, inspecting the women for a moment. “You don’t believe any of this, do you?”
Ruby clenched her jaw so she didn’t accidentally say, “No, but only because it’s a big, steaming pile of unicorn swirls,” and Sheriff Bloom, ever the diplomat, said, “I don’t believe anything until I see evidence of it. Nothing personal. But this is all very interesting, and I plan on looking into it further.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask,” he said. “Do you need anything else, or can I get back in there?”
Bloom frowned. “I think we’re all set for now. You take care of yourself, Virgil. Stella Lytefoot can heal just about anything, but that’s only if the infection doesn’t get you first. She can work wonders, but she can’t bring anyone back from the dead.”
Virgil laughed nervously, but Ruby didn’t miss his glance her way. So she added, “And I refuse to bring anyone back from the dead. I wouldn’t test your luck.”
Bloom rolled her eyes. “Come on, True. Let’s get out of his fur.”
They were well a ways down the mountain when Ruby broke the contemplative silence. “You’d think I would have come across the legend of Taurus in some of my reading.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. I’ve never heard of it before. But then again, there are so many legends in each culture, it’s hard to keep up. And parents will make up whatever stories they need to keep their children safe.”
Ruby nearly second-guessed herself before asking, “Did yours?”
Bloom shot her a sideways glance. “I know what you’re really asking. Not like you to be so coy.”
“And not like you to avoid answering a simple question.”
Bloom chuckled. “You couldn’t find the answer in one of your books?”
“You know as well as I do that literature on angels is scarce at best.”
“It’s not by accident. My kind loves secrecy.” She leaned close and whispered, “Helps preserve the mystique.”
Ruby rolled her eyes, and Bloom added, “To answer your roundabout question, angels don’t have parents.”
“Then that leads to my next question: however do you manage to develop lifelong hang-ups, if not through parenting? Angel psychology must be terribly boring. Freud would have a heart attack if he knew.”
The incline flattened out and they were finally back on a cobblestone road leading toward town. “I don’t know who Freud is,” Bloom said, “but if he enjoys issues, angels have plenty. Imagine being popped into existence fully grown and then abandoned by the goddess and left to fend for yourself. There’s a reason I left Heaven first chance I got. The power struggle up there is relentless.”
Ruby and Clifford shared a quick look. “ ‘Up there?’ ”
“Yep.” Bloom nodded toward the clouds. “The gateway to the Heaven realm is always in the sky. That keeps the flightles
s riffraff from getting in.”
Ruby ran through a quick inventory of species in her mind. “And what about the harpies and dragons?”
“If they get in, they don’t stay long.” Bloom sighed. “You get more than a few angels together and the egos are insufferable. So high and mighty. I got out as soon as I could.”
Chapter Six
Following her departure from Bloom, Ruby had indulged herself and Clifford with so much beef stew from a bistro just off Fulcrum Park that she’d sidestepped Mirna the Overly Aggressive Spirit who was still anchored to the copper bowl on her parlor table, and gone straight upstairs to bed, where she’d slipped off to sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
In fact, she slept so hard that she almost overslept the next morning. And indeed, when she did awake and glanced at the elven-made clock on the wall, she strongly questioned the necessity of her presence on Sheriff Bloom’s morning errand.
But in the end, she knew that an hour more of sleep wasn’t as valuable as what her Insight might gain from a chat with the minotaur Slobodan Yurosi.
She dressed in the same outfit as the day before, a custom that wasn’t at all frowned upon in Eastwind due to the many magical ways of washing and the quality-over-quantity mindset of local self-proclaimed fashionistas.
She descended the stairs from her second-floor bedroom to the parlor and made straight for the bathroom (ignoring Mirna’s verbal abuse) where she shuffled under the shower head, still fully clothed, and turned the handle. Rather than water, a shimmering flow of refreshing magic cascaded down and over her, not only lifting the grime from yesterday’s clothes and rejuvenating her sleep-heavy skin, but also bringing her wavy bob of red hair to its peak volume without the frizz.
She approached the mirror to put the finishing touches on her look. There weren’t many to do. She frowned slightly, noting that her red hair was looking awfully gray lately. Well, she supposed she should be grateful she had any of her color left at forty-six. But it wouldn’t be long, she knew, until her whole head was white. Even her eyebrows and… other places… were turning up grays.
