Or so the sandwich board on the path would have you believe, anyway, adorned as it was with paintings of a range of delicious-looking lunches.
Toby paused in front of it to study the images. Sammich, thought Toby. I could just go a sammich.
The problem was, with no money left in the kitty, there might not be any more sammiches ever again.
Toby completely understood Clarissa’s reasoning for coming to the Harbour Lights Hotel and spending all their money, but he was sad about the lost opportunities for a final sammich. After Old Joe had gone back to where he came from, they had tucked Mabel up on the sofa to sleep off her experience, then retreated into the kitchen to share a conflab.
Old Joe had explicitly told them they would find Grace Catesby somewhere they both had an acquaintance with. Together they’d run through all the places they’d ever visited together, and even some they had visited separately, Clarissa by herself, and Toby with Old Joe.
They’d drawn up a sensible shortlist that included the now-deserted buildings of the Sunshine Valley Pet Sanctuary, Ravenswood, Honeystick Farm, Mabel’s Scavenger Cottage, the offices of the Sun Valley Tribune… and Temperance House.
Temperance House had been the logical place to start. It bothered Clarissa that Sue Mitchelmore had been killed using a cosmetic alchemy spell and products purchased from the shop. Whoever had killed Sue had undeniably had access to Temperance House, because Sue herself would not have.
So here they were, waiting for any sign of The Pointy Woman, or someone else who might lead them to Grace Catesby.
The breeze shifted, coming in off the sea, and Toby sniffed deeply at a mauve rose that bobbed into his eyeline. A startled bee crawled out from the centre of the flower.
“Hi!” Toby said, wagging his tail. “Don’t sting me, little bee!”
For its part, the bee was furious at the interruption. It glared at the dog through its five eyes before taking flight and heading for the jasmine.
Toby shrugged it off. He hadn’t found a way to communicate with hymenoptera and other insects as yet, although it was definitely something he was working on. He returned his attention to the rose. Almost without thinking he voiced a spell he’d read in Dom’s book. “Viridi… riddy… viror omnis evanescet.”
The rose disappeared.
Toby’s mouth dropped open.
“Wow. I did it!”
He regarded the bush. There were probably a dozen or so stems with flowers remaining on it. One by one, he made them disappear.
“Viror omnis evanescet!”
He repeated the spell over and over until he’d made all of the flowers vanish.
Job done; Toby stepped back to consider the bush as a whole. But now he realised it appeared sad and dejected, obviously missing its blooms. Wasn’t that the point of a rose bush? That it had flowers? Toby frowned. Perhaps he needed to put it out of its misery.
Could he? Should he?
“Viror omnis evanescet.”
The bush evaporated, leaving behind a patch of crumbly dry red earth that hadn’t seen the sun for months.
Toby surveyed the now barren space. “Oopsie.”
The bee and a couple of his friends returned, buzzing around, searching for the roses they’d been looting just seconds ago. “I’m sorry about that,” Toby told them, “I didn’t really think that through, did I?”
One of the bees flew directly at Toby’s face and he retreated a few steps. It zzzzzz’d angrily.
“Hey! There’s lots more flowers! Go and find them!”
The angry bee darted at him and Toby yowled and fled, scampering across the tiny patch of neat lawn, along the path and out of the gates to the harbour. Turning quickly, he checked for angry bees in his wake, but he appeared to have given them the slip, or more probably, they’d lost interest and gone in search of pollen elsewhere.
Toby harrumphed, but deep down he understood their angst. He’d arbitrarily caused a bush to vanish, simply to satisfy his own vanity. Sure, it was fun practising his magick, but he’d been reckless and forgotten that the bush had purposes other than simply looking pretty for the guests at the Harbour Lights Hotel.
Bees are an important part of the food chain, Toby reminded himself. He loved watching nature programmes on television. You could learn a lot. He knew that without bees, there would be no more flowers and no more trees and no more humans and no more dogs like him.
Feeling ashamed, Toby considered returning to the hotel room. Clarissa would be wondering where he was. But in order to get back into reception, he’d have to run the gauntlet of bees waiting for him in the front garden. Probably better if he stayed out here until Clarissa came looking for him, and she could escort him back inside while protecting him from any unruly stinging insects.
It would be fun to explore a little more, he decided, and perking up at the thought, he sashayed away from the hotel, glancing around at the little shops and cafes, teeming with tourists.
The ice cream parlour had the biggest queue. Toby stood in front of the large chalkboard that detailed the flavours available. Vanilla, chocolate or strawberry. Yum. Raspberry and white chocolate. Oooh. Salted caramel. Eww. But okay, he’d give it a go. Black Forest Cherry Gateau? Could that be a cake in an ice cream? Marvellous. Banoffee? What was a banoffee when it was at home? Some strange fruit he’d never heard of, maybe? Rum and raisin? Strictly for pirates, probably. Vanilla and honeycomb?
Oh.
Reminded once more of how he’d single-handedly wiped out a food source and imagining the imminent demise of beekind across the planet, Toby slunk hurriedly away. A couple of children reached for him, “Look at the pretty doggy, Mummy!”, but he evaded capture and, quickly forgotten, made for one of the busier cafes.
Tables and chairs had been arranged neatly here, with umbrellas casting some welcome shade. In addition, the proprietor had thoughtfully provided a large bowl of fresh water for thirsty dogs. Toby, normally incredibly fussy when it came to shared water troughs, drank his fill and settled down in a nice cool spot to watch the comings and goings around the harbour. When something buzzed at his head, he shot an alarmed glance its way and prepared to take evasive action, but it turned out to be a bluebottle, so he snapped at it and it flew off to harangue someone eating a cheeseburger close by.
The salt on the breeze and the shelter from the sun came as a welcome relief. Toby half-considered a nap, until his attention was drawn by someone heading into Temperance House. She stuck out like a sore thumb among the scantily clad tourists wearing pastel shorts and miniskirts, floral dresses, Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops, because she had dressed in a long black dress with lace panels over the shoulders, along the arms and at the hem of the skirt and heavy black leather boots. Her one nod to the weather was a black parasol.
He’d seen this woman once before, in the lobby of Temperance House. This was Lady Amphitrite, the young usurper who had replaced Old Joe as Head of the Coven of the Silver Winds.
Of course, it wasn’t remarkable at all that she would turn up at Temperance House—she had an office inside, after all—but he watched her as she tarried on the steps a while, peering into the crowds thronging along the quay front as though seeking somebody out. When they didn’t immediately appear, she collapsed her parasol and stepped inside.
Toby glanced up at the Harbour Lights Hotel, trying to figure out which room belonged to Clarissa. He spotted a man, probably Bob, wrestling with a window latch. Clarissa wouldn’t have seen Lady Amphitrite enter Temperance House.
He pushed himself slowly to his feet, cogitating on his next move, but the decision was made for him when someone else climbed the few steps to Temperance House. This may or may not have been the person Lady Amphitrite had been waiting to meet, but suddenly Toby badly wanted to get inside and listen to what they had to say to each other.
The angular cut of her hair, the smart suit, the skinny legs and the stiletto heels. Pointy elbows, pointy knees, pointy cheekbones.
The Pointy Woman had ar
rived at Temperance House.
Toby waited for the front door of Temperance House to close fully before he made a move. Then, without thinking too hard, he trotted quickly, darting in and out of people’s legs, using them as cover as he made his way over to the steps The Pointy Woman had so recently vacated. Anyone looking out of the windows of Temperance House might have spotted him, but he gambled on them being busy inside, minding their own—spiritual—business.
At the steps he pulled up. As far as he knew, there was no other entrance or exit. The door was kept firmly closed in order to keep the tourists and other mundane mortals from idle curiosity. The question was, how could he get in without someone either seeing him or aiding him? Neither of those options seemed ideal.
Toby retreated to a nearby flower display. Covering three tiers and looked after by the local council, the flowers bloomed, draping themselves indolently in a waterfall of colour. Toby pushed his way in among the blossoms, uttering a silent prayer that any resident bees would not have heard about rosebush-mageddon outside the hotel, or if they had, they’d gotten over their tiny little selves.
Gently panting, his heart beating a little faster than normal, he occasionally poked his head through the flowers to check on the front door, all the while considering his choices. Should he go back to the hotel and fetch Clarissa?
But what if Clarissa stormed inside Temperance House and ordered him into the familiars’ room? What if she decided to confront The Pointy Woman without him? He couldn’t put Clarissa in danger. Old Joe wanted Toby to look after her, and a good boy always does what his master tells him.
No. He didn’t want to place Clarissa in danger.
That meant that he needed to gain access to the building.
By himself.
“I thinks it and I makes it happen,” Toby assured himself. He quashed a small quiver in his stomach. Now was not the time to have a crisis of confidence.
He stuck his head out between the flowers one last time, stealing a quick glance at the Harbour Lights Hotel window where Bob seemed to be hammering at something on the ledge. Good. That could only mean that Clarissa was otherwise engaged. He swivelled his head, checking all ways for potential witch visitors who might sneak up on him, before darting out from his hiding place and leaping up the stairs. He had no way of knowing whether anyone waited on the other side; he simply had to take a chance.
He nudged at the wooden door with his nose. It didn’t move at all. Placing one paw against the surface, he focused on the image of a door opening in his mind and politely asked, “Placere aperire ostium.”
The lock clicked and the handle turned and, as Toby’s heart momentarily stopped, it swung open, disclosing the magnificent hallway of Temperance House. All was as Toby remembered from his one previous visit. Parquet flooring in burnished wood shone beneath his paws, dark green tiling climbed the walls until midway, when maroon flocked wallpaper took over. The ceilings had been painted to depict forest scenes. Toby stole a quick glance, spotting naked men and women taking shelter behind trees, inquisitors and soldiers hunting them down. Squirrels, badgers, foxes, bears and deer ran away from fierce dogs, while owls and eagles, hawks and ravens took to the skies.
With no time to take in any more of his surroundings, Toby skipped quickly into the hall and the door swung softly closed behind him. Candles on plinths flickered gloomily at the dark corners of the hall—there was little natural light to speak of—and Toby darted into the shadows, scuttling towards the main staircase, his nails making little clicking noises on the floor. He cowered in the corner and took some time to moderate his breathing.
Once he was certain no-one had seen him or heard him, he crept forwards on his belly, ears straining to discern the different sounds that drifted around the building.
The chink of teacups in the café on the floor above and two women laughing. The slightly dirge-like chant from his right, the main hall where rituals took place. A squawking bird in the familiars’ room, and the purring of a cat.
Toby wondered whether Juniper was in residence.
He considered nipping across the hallway to find out, but a door close by him opened and he scurried back into the shadows. The sharp clicking sound of stiletto heels headed his way.
“I want you to come down and have a look at the library with me. You really ought to reorganise it, it’s a total disgrace.” The Pointy Woman’s voice, dripping acid. “I can’t find anything.”
“It is certainly high on the list of things we need to attend to,” Lady Amphitrite replied smoothly, but Toby could hear an edge in her voice. The slightest tremble.
Anxiety? Dread?
She wouldn’t be the only person afraid of the wrath of The Pointy Woman, that was for sure. Everyone here at Temperance House would do Miranda Dervish’s bidding or fear the consequences.
Toby slunk back into the darkest corner. The Pointy Woman click-clacked past him, her thin legs, imprisoned by her tight pencil skirt, moving furiously in short strides to cover as much ground as possible. Lady Amphitrite, in her flowing garment, moved more easily, and yet kept a few steps behind her companion.
“Then move it up the list!” The Pointy Woman screeched. “Honestly. Do I have to oversee everything myself?”
Toby cocked his head. What did she mean? Was she running The Coven of the Silver Winds rather than Lady Amphitrite? That didn’t surprise him at all. He filed that piece of information away, knowing that Clarissa would appreciate it.
As though she could hear his thoughts, The Pointy Woman suddenly stopped walking. He couldn’t see all of her, just her outrageously tall shoes. How did she manage to walk on those? Clarissa couldn’t have. She even managed to trip over her own bare feet. He held his breath, sensing The Pointy Woman listening.
“Is everything alright?” Lady Amphitrite asked.
“Huh.” The Pointy Woman waited a beat. “I thought I smelt something…”
“Smoke?” Lady Amphitrite sounded alarmed, although how you’d be able to tell smoke apart from anything else in a building so saturated by the fragrance of candle tallow, log fires and incense, Toby had no idea.
“No.” The Pointy Woman drew the word out. “Dog, perhaps.”
Lady Amphitrite walked quickly past her, threw open the door to the familiars’ room and peered inside. “Erm… we have Neophyte Skarlette Black’s old Labrador in here, he’s always a bit stinky to be fair, and, oh yes… Wizard Caleb’s husky.”
“Mmm.” The Pointy Woman inhaled noisily. “That’ll be it, I suppose.” She clapped her hands and Toby nearly jumped out of his skin. “Well, come on then. I don’t have all day. Let’s head down to the library.”
Toby listened to the clicking of The Pointy Woman’s shoes fade away, then waited a few minutes more before he dared to break cover from the shadows. Looking left and right, but also up, he followed the scent of The Pointy Woman to the stairs and peered down towards the basement level. Unlike the staircase that curved upwards, ornately carved in polished wood, the steps here were old and stone. The cold never normally bothered him, but there was something about the icy nature of these steps that made him uneasy. Cold fingers reached for his intestines and gave them a little squeeze.
He swallowed, pausing for longer than necessary at the top of the steps, staring down at them as they curled away into the darkness. He needed to visit the little dog’s room quite badly. Maybe if he went and found Clarissa, they could tackle this situation together.
For a tiny speck of time, Toby considered turning tail and running, but even as that thought formulated in his head, Old Joe’s words whispered in his ears. “Be strong, my bright, brave, beautiful lad!”
“I’m a good boy,” Toby said aloud. “I can do this.”
He reached down with a front paw and navigated the first chilly step. From there, there could be no going back.
He recalled the basement from his prior visit, and nothing had changed. Where the ground floor and upper floors of Temperance House were architecturally
exquisite, beautifully and tastefully decorated—if you were into demons and skulls and death and chalices and candles and everything gothic at any rate—the basement had been carved from rock and infilled with stone to create a number of rooms and partitioned areas.
The sea battered the thick walls on one side and the only natural light came from tiny squares of thick glass, set high in the walls, way above Toby’s head. Once upon a time, Temperance House had been a Quakers’ meeting house, but Toby could not imagine what they had used these rooms for. Storage maybe. Even on a roasting hot August afternoon, it was freezing down here.
Toby paused outside the door that opened into the library. It didn’t reach the floor and he could see dark shapes moving around inside. He lay down next to the gap and wriggled until he could just about make out The Pointy Woman’s stiletto shoes. She paced around the room, evidently frustrated, or furious, or a mixture of both.
“There must be something here that will help me!” she was saying, her voice shrill. “I need to know every last one of Joseph Silverwind’s friends. Who would he have trusted the most?”
Lady Amphitrite mumbled something that Toby could not make out.
“Are you stupid?” The Pointy Woman spat. “He’s been gone for years. His blasted daughter keeps getting in my way.”
More mumbling. It sounded like Lady Amphitrite had her head in a trunk.
“I’ll take care of her soon enough. I’ll take care of anyone who gets in my way.” The Pointy Woman clicked across the floor. “Anything in there?” she asked. “No? How is that possible? Where is the information I need?”
There was a thump and Lady Amphitrite cried out in pain. “I’m trying to help you!” she protested.
Bark Side of the Moon: A Paranormal Animal Cozy Mystery (Spellbound Hound Magic and Mystery Book 3) Page 12