Chapter 20
So here was what she had to do. Ebony Bell had to find a way to break the Grimshore spell.
She patted her hands on her skirt. Let’s see, she thought to herself, what else? She had to somehow get rid of the police and wizards trying to smash down her door to grab back the gold. She had to arrest the Grimshores. She had to get these darn bracelets off. And last, but not least, she had to find out what Nate’s secret was, and then take things from there.
Ebony swelled her chest, taking in the deepest of breaths. “Okay, Harry, we need a plan.”
“Are you telling me we need to think? You trotter, that’s my line!” Some candy rolled out of the bowl by her elbow and trundled along the table to the tune of Harry’s voice.
Ebony spied the bowl, grabbed a lurid purple lollipop, and pulled off the wrapper with a tug. “I know. I get that now. But, seriously, this is the time.” She popped the lollipop in her mouth and rolled it around for a bit. “So, what’s our plan?”
“Blast them,” Harry said triumphantly.
“Yes, but that’s an outcome, not a plan. How do we get from being surrounded by police and wizards—”
“Nancy wizards,” Harry clarified.
“Whatever. How do we get from being surrounded, to finding the Grimshores, taking their spell, and smooshing it all in their faces? There’s got to be some steps here, Harry, and we’d better start taking them before those police go and lease themselves a magical bazooka.”
“Like I said, Ebony, I’m friends with most of this street. If need be, we can make our stand here.”
“Yes, but the Grimshores aren’t here, and their book isn’t here, and neither are they very likely to come to us, are they?”
“Hmm,” some thick dust-clouds erupted off the top of a bookcase, “A good point.”
“We need to be creative, Harry, we need to be original. We need to do something the spell can’t contain – something fresh, something forthright, something important.”
“Atta girl.”
“But what do we do? Where do we concentrate our efforts? The Grimshores or the book? If I attack the Grimshores head on, won’t the spell just accelerate? But how do I go about finding the book instead?”
“Well, doing a location-spell is out,” Harry mumbled. “If it’s a magical creature that has the book, we don’t want them sniffing out our spell and knowing we’re after them.”
“Hold on, maybe no one has the book,” Ebony’s voice pitched with excitement. “Maybe it’s still at the crypt!”
“Ha, you think if those bozo police officers had simply failed to retrieve it, the Grimshores wouldn’t have crept back in and grabbed it after all the heat had dissipated? No Ebony, my guess is someone has it. Not the Grimshores, but someone.”
“Great,” Ebony sighed, “But who?”
“Maybe that’s the wrong question to ask right now, kid. Let’s start with something easy, something manageable. The Grimshores and the book aren’t the only things bothering you, are they? They aren’t the only mysteries you want solved.”
She bit her lip, confused by Harry’s words. Right now the Grimshores and their horrendous spell were the only things Ebony could think of….
She stopped. No, that wasn’t true. She could think of Nate, for one. The way he’d seemed unaffected by the Grimshore spell, but the way he’d still viciously chased her out of the station. It had been him who’d brought her attention to the Grimshore spell in the first place. If he hadn’t pointed out to her that she couldn’t say a word against the Grimshores, then maybe she wouldn’t have gone against the spell and half of Vale wouldn’t be after her right now.
Ebony chewed on the edge of a fingernail, not liking this train of thought. It had been Nate who’d saved her from the mugger the other night, just in the nick of time. It had been Nate who’d assured her the book had never been recovered….
“What are you thinking, girl? Fess up.”
“Nathan,” she used his full name, and it sounded so odd to her, possibly because she felt so odd about him at the moment. A swirling distrust was growing in her stomach – a distrust that reacted with her feelings like potassium reacting with water. She felt like her heart would blow up if she didn’t do something soon.
“Ha! I thought so. Such a rotter that one.”
“No,” she protested passionately. “He’s not… he’s just.”
“An enigma. A mystery. A curiosity that must be investigated!” Harry’s voice boomed. “I agree, Ebony, I wholeheartedly agree. That boy of yours must be investigated, there’s something very odd about him, indeed.”
“He’s….” She tried to form a thought, but couldn’t. What was Nate, really? He’d always seemed to have a secret – something he kept from Ebony and the world, something ensconced behind that mask of his.
“A target for investigation,” Harry declared. “And a good one.”
She shrugged, feeling incredibly conflicted. “Okay,” she sniffed. “But how do we do that? I can’t very well go back to the police station to face him – they’ll likely shoot me, run me over, and then shoot me some more.”
“Ha, oh, I don’t think you should go find him, Ebony.”
“What?” She shook her head, confusion furrowing her eyebrows. “But you said—”
“Oh no, I say we go to his house and look through his stuff. You know, do some detective work on the detective.”
“We should go? Harry, you’re a building, how are you going to come along? I think the fuzz outside are going to notice if you suddenly pull yourself from your foundations and start walking down the street.”
“Oh, silly girl, there’s so much you don’t know about me. Really, you need to get more learning in you – you haven’t nearly enough.” A magazine by her feet suddenly puffed open to reveal a man trundling along with a large travel-case by his side. “I can travel. In fact, I’m very good at it.”
“I think you mean you could once travel. You’re attached to this building now, Harry. I may no longer have magic – my magic may currently be contained, but even I know that.”
“You doubt the great Harry Horseshoe? Do you have no sense of mind? I can travel, Ebony Bell, because I have a traveling case.”
She didn’t reply, because that statement didn’t deserve one.
“It’s upstairs.” There was a tremendous thud from the mezzanine level. “And I’m already packed.”
“You are a spirit attached to a bookstore, Harry,” she said, her voice blank. “You’re a bookstore. It doesn’t matter if you have a traveling case, you can’t travel!”
Harry didn’t reply, and just for a moment, Ebony felt vindicated. Then whatever had fallen over upstairs started to thump and bump with great enthusiasm.
She shook her head, heading for the stairs. Then she took a sudden sniff and ran up the stairs with all the speed she could muster. “Harry, are they in?” she shouted. “Is that the wizards?
She mounted the top of the stairs carefully, staring around her with the quick, edgy movements of a meerkat. There wasn’t anyone up here, save for a large brown traveling case that was currently dancing around on the floor as if it were filled with hungry cats.
“Harry?” She approached it warily, still not sure it wasn’t some curious trap from the wizards outside. Maybe she’d get close enough and then a burly, hairy wizard would spring out and wrestle her into a headlock.
“Ha!” the traveling-case suddenly said, its buckle moving like a mouth. “I told you I owned a traveling case!” He gave another little dance. “I have packed myself inside and am now ready to travel.”
“But,” she walked up to him, staring down at the curious case bumping around like a pinball in an arcade machine, “You can’t travel—”
“Ebony Bell,” the buckle formed a frown of sorts, “There are many things on this Earth and in this universe that you do not understand. But if you stop to ask questions of every curiosity you meet, you’ll never get very far. Now pick me up, girl, and l
et’s go and do some blasting together.” The case gave a good wiggle on the word “blasting,” showing just how enjoyable that concept was to Harry.
Ebony bent down and, after giving the case a thorough looking-over, picked it up. It didn’t weigh a thing. “O… kay… but—”
“No buts! We go up the stairs, onto the roof, and on with our plan.
“But the store – and the Wizard’s Gold? I mean, shouldn’t we take them with us?”
The case suddenly opened to show the gold inside. “Tastes like gold, funnily enough, and powerful magic – spicy stuff. Probably give me indigestion.”
“And it’s a good idea to take it with us, do you think?” Ebony found herself suddenly filled with indecision.
“Oh yes. Valuable stuff. Can’t be leaving it simply sitting around on the counter, can we? Plus, never know when you need the Midas touch. Turning lead into gold is quite a useful little ability.”
Ebony took a very deep breath. “Okay. But what about the store?”
“Don’t you worry about the store, girl, there’s still some of me left here. Plus, I’ve put more hexes and blessings on this place than you’ve got clothes in your wardrobe. I used to try out any new spell I’d learn on my travels, or in my books, and pool them all around this store in one epic security-system of booby-traps. I tell you, I really wouldn’t want to break in.” The case bustled with laughter. “But it ought to be fun watching someone else try.”
“Okay,” Ebony steadied herself, “Then we can go.” She walked over to the second stairwell that led up to the roof and then stopped. “Hold on, we don’t even know where he lives!” She realized with a sudden pang.
“Oh, don’t we? Did you forget you so blithely loaned him my books? My precious little history books on the criminal history of Vale? I’ve been to his house, Ebony. Blast it – I’ve seen him eat! He’d sit at his ruddy table, with a plate of toast and sardines, and pick up my books with his oily little hands. Monster. Smelly monster,” Harry added with a sniff.
Ebony shook with laughter. “I never realized you could transfer your consciousness to your books.” She bit her lip, not liking the idea that every single book she’d ever sold had a packet of Harry’s consciousness attached – so he could leer at people as they snacked and read, or, heaven forbid, read on the toilet.
“And yet, there is more you do not know about me. Not those silly little novels you get in for your customers, Ebony. I’d rather burn myself down than extend my Awareness to those. No, but the books of this store – my books – well, they’re part of me, aren’t they?”
“So, you’ve been to his house, and you know how to get there?”
“Oh yes,” the bag bucked, “And I’m going to enjoy going through that place like a cyclone.”
“If we’re meant to be detectives, Harry, then you ought to know they aren’t known for their cyclonic action. We have to be discreet.”
“Discreet? Bah Humbug. Ebony, I didn’t see much of his house, he only kept me in the kitchen, the rotter. But I tell you, he has a room.”
Ebony trotted up the stairs quickly, the case extraordinarily light in her hand. “You know, having a house, it doesn’t surprise me that he has rooms in it. In fact, if you said he had a house and it didn’t have a single room at all – then I might get suspicious and wonder if he doesn’t really have a shed instead.”
“No, Ebony, a secret room,” the bag hissed like a jet of air escaping a high-pressure pipe.
“Right. What kind of secret room, and how do you know if you didn’t see it?” She finally reached the top of the stairs and gently pulled the door open, staring out at the suspiciously sunny sky above. Considering her current situation, she expected to see some seriously foreboding storm-clouds gathering on the horizon like vultures waiting for the wounded to fall.
“I felt it – I saw the door too. Mark my words. It was a secret room.”
Ebony sighed. Considering all the surprises Harry had given her today, she didn’t have the effort to fight this. If Harry could fold himself into an old leather traveling case, then he was probably right about this secret room of Nate’s.
The question was: what was in it?
She walked out onto the roof, hefting the case along with her. “Harry,” she mumbled quickly, “How do we get off the roof? Got any magic up your sleeve?”
“Yes. But I wouldn’t waste it on rubbish like this. Magic is like silver cutlery, Ebony, you only bring it out to either impress or stab important guests. So I suggest you get us off this roof the same way you got up here.”
Ebony took a moment to roll her eyes, putting a lot of effort into the movement even though no one could see her. Then she began the tremendous toil of quietly, carefully, and ever so delicately, wending her way back to the Turkish Takeout – only this time with the added bonus of having to lug a case with a magical bookstore cooped up inside. Oh, and she still didn’t have shoes on. Though, she realized with a smile, she could just pick up her shoes from before, meaning she didn’t have to go barefoot into the belly of the beast.
Sometimes life worked in mysterious ways. Either it had a sense of humor, or it just liked to mess people around.
By the time she made it back onto Mohammad’s roof, wrestled her shoes on, and trundled down the fire-escape, her face was hot, her hands sweaty, and she really needed a drink.
Rather than go back through Mohammad’s – as she didn’t want to risk any errant cops going in there for a coffee in between trying to break into her store – she left the key to his fire-escape on his mat and headed around the side of the building. There was a fence that was intended to stop people from gaining access to the back of the building without permission, but there was also a surprisingly tall dumpster next to it. With a couple of hefts and grunts, Ebony clambered on top of it with Harry and proceeded to pull herself over the fence. She soon gave up trying to keep her skirt straight and decent and took to the fence like a commando to an obstacle course – with a face like a twisted picture and a grunt worthy of a cave man.
She dropped down, less-than-lithely, on the other side of the wall, teetering forward in her heels, but managing not to fall into the drain or smack face-first into the pavement.
“Very nice,” she heard Harry whisper quietly from her side. “Now, follow what I say, and follow it exactly. There are people after you, Ebony, I can feel them. So let me find you a path forward.”
Ebony nodded. That sounded perfect. Putting the responsibility onto someone else sounded like absolute heaven right now.
After walking down an assortment of alleys, side-streets, and even over a few more fences – she found herself on the outskirts of town. She felt like she’d been walking for a whole week, maybe a year, considering how much her feet hurt.
If she’d once hobbled along with the case, she now dragged it and herself. Long ago she’d taken off her heels, ditching them for the discomfort of bare-feet. She simply couldn’t take the blisters and chaffing any more.
Nate lived right at the foot of the mountains, on the side of Vale that swept up to the forests beyond. His house was in a very leafy suburb, which backed up onto what looked like a forest reserve. There were giant oaks, elms and spruces all around the place.
Yes, that was how far Ebony had walked – all the way from the middle of the city to the mountains.
She couldn’t guess what the time was, but Harry assured her it was only late afternoon, and Nate would still be out for hours.
Ebony had no idea how Harry could know this, but she went with it. She didn’t have any other option.
Still cursing the fact Harry hadn’t allowed her to take a taxi, or even a bus – because he didn’t like the smell of other people, he’d insisted – Ebony carefully walked up to Nate’s house.
It was quite nice really. It had two levels and a wide timber veranda that skirted the whole place like a halo. In fact, the whole place was very woody, like a stylish Canadian lodge. It looked homey, warm and oh-so-inviting. It also swept
up into the forest behind it. With big old birches and elms standing sentinel by its sides and a nice garden seeming to blend seamlessly with the forest, like complimentary colors blending on a canvas.
Very pleasing to the eye really, somewhat like the owner itself.
It also looked like it was locked to the teeth and had an alarm system for extra roar.
“Hmm, Harry, how do we get in?”
“A rock through the window should do the trick.” The case guffawed with laughter. “That should show the upstart. Or you could try keying the code into the alarm system. The dunce of a Detective had my book in his arms when he was opening the door.”
“Yes, but surely we need a key to get in the front door—”
“Ha, don’t worry about that. I have a way with locks. I’ll just blast it off.”
Ebony shook her head, ensuring she was well under the cover of a low willow – not wanting Nate’s neighbors to spy the sketchy, shoeless woman with the large brown traveling-case hanging around the Good Detective’s house. “We can’t blow the door up.”
“Oh it will be a small blast, just a little one directed at the lock, like a Claymore really.”
“Harry,” she said through gritted teeth, “This better work, or—”
“Oh it will,” Harry replied with satisfaction. “Just get me to the door, and I’ll do the rest. Then we’ll disarm the alarm and go cyclonic in the Good Detective’s House.” The bag let out a throaty chuckle that rambled on entirely too long.
Ebony stood under the protection of the tree for several more seconds before finally sneaking out and heading for the front door. She looked so cautiously this way and that, if anyone had seen her, they would have had no doubt she was a shoeless thief.
She held her breath as she walked up the steps, ignoring the mat before the door that said welcome in the same fantastic yellow the police used on their flak-jackets. She couldn’t help but think it was very ironic in her case.
As she held up the bag to the lock, hoping no peppy mother was out walking her equally-peppy dog – Ebony wondered how Nate would react to this. Coming home to find a bedraggled, barefoot Ebony holding up an old, big traveling case to his door. It would be comical and terrible. His face would run the gamut of emotions until it set in anger and then…. Oh, he’d probably just shoot her.
“Hurry up, Harry,” she whispered, dancing from foot-to-foot. “Someone’s going to see us!”
“Nonsense. And if they do, they’ll just think you’re a dancing telegram considering this silly jig you’re doing. Now hold still, almost got it.” There was a very sharp but not so loud pop and a fizzle of smoke erupted from the lock. “Got it! Now let’s disarm that alarm before it calls more police. Because,” he laughed, “We’re still carrying around stolen items from Praytors.”
Ebony shook. She’d almost forgotten that one. But she didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself.
She whipped open the door, went inside, and spied the alarm panel on the wall. “What’s the code, Harry?!”
With seconds to spare, she keyed it in, her heartbeat dropping noticeably as she realized they were safe in the house. For now. “Gosh darn, that was thrilling.” She deliberately used Harry’s turn-of-phrase, hoping he’d realize just how thrilling things really were.
“Hmm,” the case rumbled appreciatively, “Reminds me of the time I fought a horde of dragons in the mountains of Afghanistan.”
Ebony shook her head again. “Harry,” she took a breath, “I’m not saying breaking into Nate’s house isn’t wild, dangerous, and exciting, but is it really akin to fighting dragons?”
“Oh everything is like fighting dragons, girl. It’s one of life’s great comparative experiences.”
“Right,” Ebony’s voice drawled, and she gave a sudden hiccup of laughter. She’d just talked like Nate in Nate’s own house.
“Oh, stop saying that, it’s annoying. Now let’s go and break into that little trotter’s secret room.”
“Yeah.” She looked around, stomach giving a strange tremble as she realized she was getting her first real look at how Nate actually lived. There was a sideboard by the door with a bowl on it, probably for his keys. And a coat rack on the other side of the door with a heavy winter jacket, a rain coat, and a thick beanie hung up on the hooks. There was also a pair of clean gumboots sitting next to the rack.
“Hey come on, girl. Let’s not dawdle. We are running out of time. And I’d like to get some blasting done before the day is out.”
Ebony turned from the boots and started to walk down the hall. Several rooms branched off at her sides and a wooden staircase twisted off at one point, leading up to what looked like a very spacious loft.
She suddenly found herself wondering very acutely which room was his bedroom.
She walked over to a door and grabbed the handle, curiosity getting the better of her.
“No,” Harry snapped immediately, “That’s not the secret room. Now hurry up! I’ll lead the way!”
Ebony sighed and continued down the corridor. It opened out into a lovely, large kitchen. All along one wall were big windows and a French sliding-door that led out to the deck beyond. The windows and door all offered a spectacular view of the garden leading up to the forest and mountains above. Really, it was the kind of view you could wake up to every morning and never grow tired of. She fancied it would be different with every passing day and every passing season. Some days the clouds would sweep down from above, like frosting dripping off cake. On other days the sun would stream through the trees, lighting up the soft greens of the young foliage like light through cellophane.
Ebony sighed. It was longing in a way she wasn’t quite familiar with.
“And just what is with that sigh, girl? You sound like you are swooning! At a time like this? Now get a grip. The room is just ahead.”
She blinked, twisting her head from the view and surveying the rest of the kitchen. It was big, beautiful, and warm from the sun streaming through the windows. Just being here was making her forget she’d actually just broken in and the world was mostly out to get her with pitch forks, guns, and wizards.
Then she saw the door. It was off to the side, past a little area with a couch and rug that probably served as Nate’s lounge room. Knowing the detective, he wouldn’t believe in TV. He would think the only way to spend your time when you weren’t working was to find other ways to work – whether it be studying or going outside to dig a manly ditch.
The room stood out, not because it had a big sign that read KEEP OUT in large, neon letters. No, it was because it had a faint glow emanating from all around the door frame.
Ebony couldn’t directly use her magic at the moment – it was still locked away behind those blasted bracelets. She didn’t need to.
She knew whatever was behind that door was three things: Secret, magical, and likely incredible.
As she walked up to it, her heart began to tremble with a nervous thud. It dawned on her, as she reached for the handle, that she was just about to find out what Nate had been hiding all along.
Witch's Bell Book One Page 20
