I said, “He’s… he’s…”
“Nondescript,” Stanley finished for me. He lowered his paws. “I was expecting some magnificent being, not a little man with grey hair and grey eyes. He’s quite delicate looking, isn’t he?”
“He is. Not at all what I was expecting. Even his clothes are grey. The butterflies are lovely, though. Can you see the blue and red spots on the tips of their wings? I wonder what kind of butterflies they are?”
Stanley patted my arm. “Look at the Brimstone butterflies! They’re all moving off their trees. What are they doing?”
We watched in amazement as our beloved Brimstone butterflies flew over to the black ones. The chariot shape dispersed and the black butterflies began to dance with the Brimstone ones. They flew around the square and headed upwards. The light green and yellow of the Brimstone butterflies mixed with the black ones as they danced this way and that across the sky.
Stanley said, “They look like those starlings on the telly. Do you remember them? They do a special dance in the sky at the end of the day. What’s it called?”
“Murmuration.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the creatures. “They remind me of the Northern Lights. Not that I’ve ever seen them for real. Look at how they’re moving in waves across the sky.”
The gnome at my side had recovered from her faint. She got to her feet and said, “Our Brimstone butterflies do this every time Quinn visits. They’re making Quinn’s butterflies feel welcome.”
After another minute, the Brimstone butterflies returned to their trees. The black ones settled themselves on the grass behind Quinn Ocean. He gave them a loving smile and a nod of thanks.
Once again, my attention was drawn to the roof of the building behind the gazebo. I definitely saw something running across the roof. It was too pale to be a balloon. What was it? Or who was it?
I said to Stanley, “There’s something going on over there. Let’s go and investigate.”
The gnome pulled on my sleeve. “You can’t leave now. Quinn is about to start telling us one of his tales. You have to listen! You have to!”
Despite my better judgement, I said to Stanley, “We’ll stay for a while and see what all this fuss is about.”
“You won’t regret it,” the gnome said.
It turned out that she was wrong about that.
Chapter 3
Quinn Ocean moved over to the gazebo and stood on the first step. He inclined his head in Blythe’s direction and said, “May I address your wonderful residents, please?”
A funny squeaking noise came from Blythe and she grinned maniacally at Quinn. Where had the sensible part of her gone? This was getting embarrassing. Gran was just as bad as she grinned at the grey-haired being in front of her. It was like they were at a music concert or something.
Quinn addressed the sea of expectant faces in front of him. “May I first say how wonderful it is to be here. I wasn’t due back here for a while, but the warmth and love you extended to me last time has drawn me back. I hope you don’t mind me returning again so soon?”
Heads shook so violently from side to side that a draft came towards Stanley and me.
Quinn continued, “Would you like me to begin? I’ve picked up some amazing stories of brave deeds on my travels. Would you like to hear them?”
“Yes!”
“Please!”
“We love you, Quinn Ocean!”
I rolled my eyes at Stanley. He tried to do the same but made himself slightly cross-eyed in the process.
Quinn gave his audience a wide smile. “Thank you. You are too kind. I will begin. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
There was a skirmish as the residents of Brimstone shuffled as close to Quinn as they could. I noticed Blythe and Gran were at the very front. Everyone sat down and stared at Quinn with adoration. They were like toddlers listening to their favourite teacher during story time.
Quinn moved up another step and beckoned to the black butterflies who were resting on the grass nearby. He said to them, “Ready when you are.”
The butterflies rose as one and went inside the gazebo.
Stanley said to me, “Why does he need the butterflies near him?”
“We’ll soon find out. Do you want to move closer?”
Stanley shook his head. “I don’t. I can see him perfectly well from here. Cassia, look at how everyone is staring at him. Do you think he’s cast a spell on them? He could have used one of those glamour ones. Is that what they’re called when someone makes themselves irresistible?”
“Something like that. I’ll keep an eye on him. If you feel yourself falling for him, let me know.”
“I will. The same goes for you.”
Quinn cleared his throat and began his first tale. It concerned a troll called Ekon who saved a family of vampires from a burning castle. Something strange happened during Quinn’s speech. He seemed to grow taller and wider. His voice became deeper and more captivating. The grey in his hair and eyes turned silver.
That wasn’t the only change. The black butterflies on the gazebo proceeded to act out the story. They changed themselves into the creatures from the tale. Not only that, they managed to transform themselves into an image of the burning building too. It was mesmerizing to watch.
All too soon, Quinn had finished his story and was taking a bow.
Stanley let out a dismissive sniff and admitted, “That was quite good. A bit too dramatic for my liking. What did you think?”
“He can certainly tell a good story. And those butterflies are marvellous. I wonder how long it took Quinn to train them?”
“I’m not impressed with him, though. Are you?” Stanley gave me a long look.
“I’m not impressed either. But I can see Quinn has a commanding presence when he talks.” I frowned at the rapt expressions on the residents’ faces at our side. “I don’t think he’s that commanding. Some of the residents look like they’re in a trance.”
Stanley waved his paw at Quinn. “It’s because he’s doing something to them. Can’t you cast an anti-glamour spell at him or something?”
“I could do.” I looked at the residents again. “But he’s not causing any harm. Let’s watch him for a bit longer.”
Stanley flashed a dark look at Quinn. “Something’s not right. I can feel it in my fur.”
Quinn began his second story. This one was about a werewolf called Pennington. He lived in the town of Marbled White. Quinn related how Pennington had saved a whole village of fairies from an attack by a vicious dragon. Quinn went into great detail as he proceeded with his narrative. He drew everyone into the story, and the butterflies added the scenery and characters behind him. I felt like I was part of the story and my heart missed more than one beat by the time Quinn reached the ending. Thankfully, it was a happy ending.
Quinn’s next story involved a goblin called Ohxee who lived in the town of Speckled Wood. His story involved a long trek through a demon-filled forest to reach a plant which only grew in the darkest area. The plant was the one thing which would cure his mum from a deadly disease. The butterflies were excellent at turning themselves into demons. I jumped several times, and I heard a whimper or two coming from Stanley. Quinn concluded this tale with another happy ending.
When Quinn had finished the third story, he took a small bow and seemed to shrink back to his former stature. The silver left his hair and was replaced by the grey again. The residents broke into deafening applause. Stanley and I joined in but we were less rapturous.
Stanley said, “I suppose he has a talent for weaving a tale. I still think there’s magic involved.”
“Hmm.” I looked towards the building behind the gazebo and up at the roof. “Stanley, did you hear that?”
“What?”
“It sounded like a cry.”
“What sort of a cry?”
“Like a cry you’d make before something awful happened to you.” I pointed to the building. “It came from that area.”
“Let’s
go and investigate. I’ve seen enough of Quinn Ocean and his performing butterflies.” Stanley jumped out of my arms and began to pad away.
I took one look at Quinn and his adoring audience before I went after Stanley. Despite my quick glance, I didn’t miss the gifts of food and drink which were being laid at his feet.
I jogged around the side of the square and stopped in front of the building where the noise had come from. It was the apartment building where Luca lived.
Stanley looked left and right. “I can’t see anything suspicious here. We’re not looking at a murder scene. No dead bodies lying around.” He looked up and took a step back. “No one’s hanging on for dear life on the roof or impaled on anything sharp.”
I was about to make a remark about his overactive imagination, but I was thinking the same thing. I said, “Let’s have a look around the back.”
We walked down the row of joined buildings and went around the back. The rear of the buildings faced fields and the mountains beyond. Stanley and I walked along the wide pavement. We came to a stop at the same thing.
Stanley pointed his paw at the pile of sand on the pavement. “What’s that?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
We stared silently at the pile of sand.
Stanley said, “Why is it breathing?”
“I’ve no idea. I’ve never seen anything like this before.” I crouched next to the sand and watched as it heaved upwards and then dropped down. It gave a small shudder and then was still. I heard movement from the top of the building and looked that way. All I could see was a stone gargoyle as it stared out over the fields.
Stanley moved closer to me. He whispered, “Whatever it is, it’s stopped breathing now.”
We both jumped as something landed on the pavement at our side. It was the gargoyle from the building.
The gargoyle calmly stated, “That pile of sand is all that remains of Nitoth. He’s been murdered.”
Chapter 4
I straightened up and stared at the stone creature. It came up to my knees and had the body of a lion and the face of a lizard. I said to it, “Was Nitoth a gargoyle like you?”
The creature spat in disgust and a pebble popped out of its mouth. “He wasn’t a gargoyle. He was a grotesque. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” Stanley asked. “What’s the difference?”
The creature gave Stanley a withering look. “I’m sick of explaining the difference to ignorant beings like yourself. Gargoyles have been here for much longer than you have, cat. It’s not my responsibility to tell you about us. You should know.”
Stanley took a step back and mumbled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I couldn’t bear anyone talking to my little friend like that. I drew myself up to my full height and looked down at the stone creature. “Do not talk to my partner like that,” I informed it. “As a matter of fact, I do know the difference between a gargoyle and a grotesque.” I turned my back slightly on the creature and addressed Stanley, “They can be similar in appearances, but gargoyles usually have water coming from their mouths.”
The gargoyle erupted in rage. “We are not similar at all! Gargoyles have a rich and varied history.” He jabbed his finger at the building in front of us. “I’ve been on that roof for centuries! I was here long before the gutters and drainpipes were put in. Who do you think stopped the rain from falling on the residents here? It was me and my kind! That’s who.”
“How did you do that?” Stanley ventured carefully.
The creature opened its mouth wide and jerked its thumb inwards. Then it closed its mouth and said, “This is where the rain comes out of. I angle myself to make sure the rain from the roof falls to the streets below without damaging the precious brickwork. Or I used to. This building is in an immaculate condition. And that’s all thanks to me and my big mouth.” It gave us a satisfied look.
Stanley gave the creature a curious once-over. “How does the water get from the roof and into your body and then out of your mouth?” He paused. “Is there a hole at the back of you? Is that where the rain gets in?” His glance travelled along the length of the gargoyle’s lion body.
“Hey! Stop looking at me like that. My anatomy and bodily functions are private!”
“Sorry,” Stanley said. He averted his eyes, but I saw him taking another quick peep at the creature’s back.
I pointed to the pile of sand. “Tell me more about this. Before we start, I’d like to know your name, please.”
The creature clamped its mouth shut and gave me a defiant stare.
I wasn’t going to be intimidated by a gargoyle. I said to it, “Do you know who I am? And what my job is?”
There was a tiny nod from the creature.
I continued, “So, you know I can use magic. And because I’m a justice witch, I can perform whatever magic is needed when I’m investigating a crime?”
Another small nod.
Stanley padded over to me and said, “We don’t need this gargoyle’s help. We can ask someone else.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you. If I must. And for your information, my name is Relloc. You must have heard of me. Like I told you, I’ve been in this town for centuries. I’ve worked on this roof in all that time. I did an excellent job before those hideous gutters were put in place.” Despite his face being made of stone, he managed to twist it in disgust.
“Okay, Relloc,” I said, “let’s start from the beginning. How did you know Nitoth, and what makes you think he was murdered?”
Relloc explained, “Nitoth was a grotesque. His function was for decorative purposes only. Not like me. He came to Brimstone about five years ago. He tried a few of the other roofs, but he liked this one best. He liked the view over the fields. I told him he could have this part of the roof because it was too windy here for me.” He lifted his lizard face proudly. “I like to keep out of the wind. Erosion and all that. I’ve seen what erosion can do to a gargoyle, and it’s not pretty.”
“I can imagine,” I said. “What makes you think he was murdered?”
“Because he fell from the roof. He must have been pushed. Gargoyles and grotesques have excellent balance. It’s part of our training. You can’t become a gargoyle unless you have impeccable balance. I thought that fact would be obvious.”
“Maybe to you, but not to me.” I looked back at the sand. “If he was pushed from the roof, why isn’t he in pieces? Why does he look like a pile of sand?”
Relloc moved over to the sand and hunkered down next to it. “That is a good question. In my time, I’ve witnessed two foolish gargoyles slipping off roofs, and they do break into pieces. I don’t know what’s caused Nitoth to end up in this state.” He held his hand out over the sand. “His life force has definitely gone. If he still had his life force, he could have been saved.”
“His life force? What do you mean?”
Relloc sighed heavily and straightened up. “You don’t know a lot about our kind, do you?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. I can find out, though. I can ask my gran and Blythe.”
“Good luck with that,” Relloc said. “They’re too busy listening to that little grey man spouting his nonsense. The whole town goes crazy when that fool shows up. I saw you and your cat watching him too. I can see everything from my position. Everything.”
“Did you see what happened to Nitoth then?” I asked.
Relloc cleared his throat. It sounded like pebbles being bashed together. “No, I didn’t. I was listening to the grey man and his tale about that troll and the vampires. I wanted to know what happened.”
I gave him a nod. “Did you hear anything suspicious? I thought I saw someone running across the roof earlier. Then I heard a cry. I should have investigated it immediately, but unfortunately, I didn’t.”
Relloc considered the matter. “I think I did hear someone running about on the roof. It could have been one of the other gargoyles doing their exercises. We can’t sit still all day. We need to move
about now and again.”
“How many gargoyles are up there?” I asked.
Relloc shook his head at my question. “This is something you should know. How long have you been working in Brimstone?”
I kept my tone polite as I replied, “I don’t know everything about all the residents. Can you tell me, please?”
“There are one hundred and fifty-eight gargoyles in this town. And there are thirty-two grotesques.” His eyes darkened. “Thirty-two useless lumps of stone that this town doesn’t need.”
“Did Nitoth have any enemies?” I couldn’t stay polite anymore. “Besides you?”
Relloc’s lizard eyes widened. “What do you mean by that?”
“You obviously didn’t like him.”
“It’s not personal. I don’t like any grotesques. They’re too pretty.”
Stanley said, “That doesn’t make sense at all.”
Relloc looked towards the roof of the building. “I have to get back to my post. I don’t want one of the other gargoyles thinking I’ve changed roofs.”
“Are you always on this roof?” I asked.
“Yes. Why?”
“I might need to talk to you again. And I’ll speak to the other gargoyles too.”
“And grotesques,” Stanley added.
Relloc answered haughtily, “I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule.” Without giving me the chance to say another word, he scuttled up the building and disappeared from view.
Stanley said, “What do we do now?”
“We treat this as a murder enquiry.”
We regarded the sand.
Stanley said, “But there isn’t a body. Just sand. And we only have Relloc’s word that Nitoth was murdered.”
“I know. But we both saw this sand breathing for a few seconds, so there must have been life here. Stanley, I’m going to try a spell.”
“What kind of spell?”
“Do you remember that jigsaw we found in Gran’s attic recently?”
He groaned. “The five-thousand-piece one? The one you thought looked like fun? The one you made me help you with?”
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