by Tempe O'Kun
Karl’s mom tipped her head back, knocking a little plaster from the ceiling. “Maybe if you’d had more actual conversations, he’d have told you where he was going. You’ve talked more about that beaver since he disappeared than you did in the two decades before that.”
Her husband only repeated his snort.
She turned her head to shout to the basement. “Karly, honey! Your friends from television are here!” Propping her mighty fists on stalwart hips, she gestured for them to head down. “You’ll recognize his room. You’re on the door!” Her laugh shook the walls a little.
The husky smiled and nodded. Placing a paw at Kylie’s back, he guided her downstairs. They tromped down into the dim basement and knocked on the partly-open door. The Strangeville poster taped there had been signed by the whole cast, so he must’ve actually touched it at some point in the past. Life as a minor cable TV star was weird like that. When a moment passed with no sign of their fan, he knocked again—louder.
A series of crashes and stumbles progressed toward the door. Electronic music started playing the middle of a song. The door swung open to reveal a tall, plump rhino. Headphones swung wildly from his horn, cord dangling. His tiny eyes went wide. His breath sped, spiking his tone higher and higher. “Uh, hey guys! Didn’t hear you come in.” A frantic hand straightened his disheveled hair. He finally noticed the headphones hanging off his horn and gave an embarrassed grin as he disentangled from them. “What’s up?”
“We’re on a case.” The otter flipped the phone into her paw like a police notebook, then showed him a photo of the mongoose. “What can you tell us about this lady?”
He blinked. “Isn’t that the lady who sells bread to Pinchy’s? It’s good stuff.”
Kylie looked up at a considerable angle, very serious. “We need whatever you can tell us.”
“You might want to grab a seat.” His horn bobbled in the affirmative. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”
They walked into the messy, but large bedroom. Karl took a moment to frantically closed some browser tabs. Max pretended not to notice. Kylie appeared genuinely oblivious. The husky sat on the sofa, which was surrounded by podcast recording equipment. Instead of squeezing in next to him, Kylie sat on his lap.
The husky buried his nose in her hair for an instant, before remembering where they were. Trying to look casual, he eyed stacks of Mana Clash cards on the desk. Looked like the rhino was building a new deck.
Kylie wiggled in his lap. Her thick tail brushed against some interesting places, which she seemed oblivious of. “So she sells them bread?”
“Oh yeah.” The rhino grabbed a seat on the office chair before his computer. His hands settled over a massive keyboard. The gray and white brick of plastic pinged under his thick fingers. It had to weigh at least two kilos. He pulled up a file of notes on his computer. “She makes all their bread bowls too.”
The otter gasped, paws to her muzzle. “I’ve already been contaminated!”
Max patted her shoulder. “Anything in your files about her?”
“Heh, well, I don’t have big dramatic filing cabinets like on the show, but…” He paused for a blink. “Wait, you’re asking me for help on a story for your new Strangeville blog?”
“Well, yeah.” Max nodded. “You’re our expert on mysterious local happenings.”
His pointy ears popped up. “I’m the Egbert? Wow. Aw…” The perk of his ears faded with slight disappointment. “I always saw myself as more of the Damon, ya know?”
The husky suppressed a snicker at the notion of Karl squeezed into the porcupine badass’s signature leather jacket. “I guess you’ve got the natural armor angle.”
Kylie chattered with impatience. “Boys, can we focus?”
Karl tapped his massive fingers together. “I mean Max is still the Serge, and you’re still the Cassie, so…”
Trying to let the fanboy down easy, Max twirled his paw between them. “I don’t know if you’re really the motorcycle type.”
The rhino perked up. “They make motorcycles for rhinos!” He started to search the web for pictures. “They start with a forklift—”
“Karl! Karl.” She waved webbed paws. “What can you tell us about the bread lady?”
Max smirked. A part of him wanted to hear where that was going.
“Right.” The rhino clicked back to the text document and searched for bread.
A series of deep thuds announced Karl’s parents walking around upstairs. It occurred to Max that he was standing directly under at least two full-grown rhinos. He cast a suspicious eye at a nearby support beam.
Their fan didn’t even look up. “Don’t worry; basically the whole house is made of steel.”
Max shared a concerned look with his girlfriend.
“Hmm. Not finding very much. Looks like she runs her company out of her home—the addresses are the same.” The rhino pulled up a map. “She’s south of town, in the hills.”
“Any reports of death from eating her baked goods? Or possession?” She looked at her husky boyfriend. “Or brainwashing?”
“Well, that Yeast India Company has really positive reviews.” His thick fingers scrolled through a string of social media comments. “So maybe brainwashing?”
Kylie bounced on the husky’s lap. “Wait, you have an address?”
Max cleared his throat, trying to pretend he didn’t have a sexy lutrine grinding on him. “I thought you said you didn’t have that much information on her.”
“Yeah, it’s on her business card. Or, at least, it used to be. The new ones just have a FoodieFoto link and a bunch of weird symbols.” He tilted his horn at the screen. “She must take orders through there, since I still see her catering events.”
The otter wiggled with excitement. “You never went there to investigate?”
He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “I didn’t think ‘makes tasty bread’ was a good reason to break into her house.”
“Yeah, that’d be crazy.” She waggled her phone at him. “Could you send me that address, please?”
“Sure!” He copied it into an email for her. “Do you guys have any questions about other residents?”
“Nope!” The otter popped up from her boyfriend’s lap like a fishing bobber. Her tail curved for balance as she angled for the door.
Max stood, glad that his hoodie was long enough to help hide his erection as he stood to follow. “Not today, but I’m sure we’ll have more soon.”
Ears drooping a little at their sudden exit, the rhino hooked a thumb at his computer. “Because most of my files are way more thorough.”
The husky snapped a finger at him. “That’s why you’re the Egbert.”
Karl grinned, ears waggling sheepishly.
The husky trotted after his lover up the stairs. On their way out the door, they swept past Karl’s mom, who had somehow produced a large glazed squash in the time they’d been there.
Armed with the address, they poked along the back lanes surrounding Windfall until they came across a nondescript strip of land. It had a little house, a modest barn, and plenty of tree cover. Most importantly, it had a familiar little moped parked in front of it.
Letting the car putter to a stop, Kylie whipped a pair of small binoculars from her fishing vest. Her paw on his chest pushed him back into the seat for a better view.
Max rubbed the top of his head and the front of his shins. His tail felt oddly comfortable, however, in the seat’s generous tail slot. Maybe if he started wearing skateboard pads whenever Kylie drove, he could learn to tolerate the Amphicar.
She watched as the mongoose emerged from the house toting a massive grain sack. “There she is! I bet she has alien mind-control spores in there.”
The dog sniffed absently. Smelled like rain. “You mean like in Season One?”
“Hm?” Her paw rested on his thigh as she leaned forward. The binoculars tapped the windshield.
The canine tried not to think about how good her touch felt, or the gradual swell of h
is arousal. “Strangeville. Before I joined the show.” Max watched both her and the house warily, unsure when she’d dash out of the car and drag him along. “One of the first episodes in the Tribunal arc.”
“Ah.” A smirk quirked the corner of her muzzle. “Sometimes I forget I’m dating the show’s biggest fan.”
His massive paw covered hers. “Or at least yours.”
The otter lowered her binoculars to flash him a quick smile, then looked back at the property. “Ugh!” The otter wiggled with displeasure. “How is she still not doing anything?”
A few dozen meters into the property, the baker tottered across the driveway. Her middle did a belly dance under the heavy sack. With a yowl of strength, she let it thud to the earth and flung open the door to the shed. Inside sat a huge granite millstone.
Max lowered his ears and sunk lower in his seat, hoping she wouldn’t turn around and notice them.
With a chatter of excitement, Kylie shoved the binoculars into his paws.
He took them and peered at the strange baker. She hauled the grain sack up to the massive stones and began to pour it onto the stone surface. The instant the sack was empty, she streaked under the mill’s heavy crank and slammed the barn door. A sharp chatter carried through the mossy trees. Seconds later, a massive grinding sound followed. The husky found himself reminded of the canned sound effect of stone doors sliding open.
The otter held up her phone, recording. “What’s she doing?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Wheat magic?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You can’t have magic and aliens.”
His eyebrow rose without permission. “I’m not sure that’s an actual rule.”
A sputtering light, weak at first, flashed from the gap around the barn door. Brighter and brighter it became, until it flared like a welding torch.
Max lowered the field glasses and rubbed at his eyes. A whimper trailed from his muzzle.
Kylie kept recording. “Whoa!”
He blinked away the afterimage. A purple blob obscured the center of his vision, forcing him to look at the building sidelong. “What was that?”
“That was totally some kind of magic!” Her webbed finger jabbed toward the windshield. “Her all-natural bread is all-supernatural!”
Still blinking, Max watched as the runes and spirals sparked as the millstones ground on. “I don’t know if we can conclude that yet.”
She gripped at his shoulder, tugging on sleeve fabric. “We have to tell the world.”
“Assuming you’re right…” He thought back to the juicy cheeseburger of hours before. “If we expose her, won’t she stop making the bread?”
They sat silent for a long moment. The slim mongoose kicked open the door, toting a massive bucket of flour. A faint cloud followed her to the house. Back on the grindstone, only a faint spark here and there on the great stone wheels spoke of the energies that had crackled there seconds before.
“Okay. Fine. Maybe.” Her eyebrows sunk like river stones. “But we’re putting this in the blog.”
His tail thumped against the otter-shaped seat. “Warm people up to the idea. Preheat them for the coming proof.”
“But we still have to figure out exactly what she’s doing.” The lutrine wiggled in her seat and flailed at the events that had just unfolded. “For all we know, she’s using nightmares to power her magic.”
“So it’s magic?” He cocked an ear.
She stuck her tongue out of her cute little muzzle. “Shut up.”
The big canine clicked the covers back on the lenses of the binoculars. “So much for that.”
Phone still in her paws, Kylie popped open the car door and hopped out. With a whisper of footsteps, she slunk toward the barn.
His triangular ears dropped with a groan. “Or not.”
He followed her across the cluttered and brambly woods. Moss dangled from ancient trees. The distant crack of thunder rolled in from the sea. Together, they dashed across the driveway and around the back of the barn.
Under Kylie’s paw, the old wooden door squeaked open. She eeled into the dim space, over boxes and around dusty machinery.
By the time Max stubbed his toes down the same path, she stood rubbing her paws together over the massive granite millstones. Upon inspection, the great stones appeared to have been retrofitted for this purpose from some kind of forgotten shrine, with some faces of the rock freshly cut and others still covered with ancient lichen. Its massive wheels lay etched with strange symbols, jagged things arranged in no pattern Max could discern. As Max examined them, they almost seemed to shift and rearrange when he wasn’t looking. He found he could never find a particular symbol again after he’d looked away from it. As he opened his mouth to give voice to his growing unease, Kylie took a step toward it, eyes glittering. Her fingers stretched out for the surface…
He grabbed her by the back of the vest and yanked her out of reach of the rune-etched stones.
“Hey!” Her voice came as a choked squawk. “What’s the big idea?”
“Sorry.” The big dog shrugged. “It looked like you were going to touch it.”
Her eyes carried the special kind of pity reserved for beloved but daft dogs. “I was gonna touch it.”
“Then I’m not sorry.” His grip tightened on her garment. “We did five years of TV show on this. Touching random artifacts is how you summon demons.”
Her fists propped on her hips. “Oh, there’re demons now.”
“Magic alien demons.” He nodded and let her go. “Don’t touch it.”
With a displeased chitter, she settled for just taking video of the apparatus. “But we’re getting a sample.” She pulled small plastic bag from her fishing vest pocket.
“Deal.” He took the bag and stooped to collect a bit of flour from the ground.
She looked a little disgusted. “Ew, from the floor?”
“We’re not going to eat it. We’re going to study it.” Whispering, he scooped a pile of the white powder into the bag, then zipped it sealed. “I know that’s going to be tough for someone who forgot not to eat the giant dumpling squid.”
She sputtered, leering at him from around a stone possibly repurposed from some occult altar. “That’s not the same and you know it!” She poked the crank. Nothing happened. She gave it a quick turn. The millstone rolled, but no weird lights appeared. She braced to turn it one more time…
Thunder boomed. Close.
The walls shook, rattling loose dust in thin plumes and helixes.
The husky found himself stepping immediately to her side. A glance revealed his otter girlfriend standing very straight and looking around with concern.
A serious look passed between them. He pocketed the evidence. “Quit while we’re ahead?”
She only hesitated for a second, then reached for his arm. “Sure.”
Footsteps.
Faint snaps of profanity neared, sounding quite a bit like the mongoose straining under another heavy weight.
Max ducked. The otter did likewise. As one, they started shuffling back toward the side door. He strained to listen, even as he tried to keep his ears down and out of sight.
The mongoose staggered into view, face obscured by another burlap sack of wheat. Dumping it on the wheel, she seized upon that massive handle and cranked it up and down, ripples of effort translating down her long spine. One granite wheel rolled atop the other, grinding the grain to powder. The old female began to mutter, low and continuous. The words were too low to hear, but the cadence was bizarre, and many of the sounds seemed to be produced at the back of the throat. Green light sparkled along the etchings, gathering at the point of contact between the stones. Here and there, little licks of lightning flicked out, curling around the wheels or arching to nearby pillars. By the growing light, Max saw her eyes had gone glazed, unfocused.
The pair of intruders stood at the side door, a fair ways from the action. Max glanced to his girlfriend, assuming she’d be about ready to leave. In
stead, he found her recording the proceedings with keen interest. With his quietest groan, he picked her up around the middle and backpedaled out the open door. Sometimes, it paid to be big.
The outside air hung heavy with moisture, drizzle spraying down in fits. Sweeps of wind stirred the trees. The birds had gone quiet.
The otter finally turned off her phone. “Fine, fine.”
Clouds darkened the sky, deepening the shadows of the forest below. After ducking into the trees, they beat a swift retreat. Max found himself actually pleased to be crammed back into the Amphicar, at least for the moment, as his girlfriend fired it up.
He shot her a testy look. “What happened to quitting while we were ahead?”
Those webbed paws waggled on the steering wheel. “Um, she came back and started grinding alien flour in front of us? And there was a big crazy light show?”
“Yes, and we know a ton of special effects professionals.” He crossed his arms over his damp hoodie. “I thought we were letting this one go.”
“We are!” She pulled back onto the main road. “I did!”
“And you stuck around recording her because…?”
She grinned, still riding the endorphin rush. “I was just getting ‘special effects’ footage for the blog.”
“That really upped our odds of being caught. She could’ve called the cops.”
A second or two passed while rain pattered on the windshield. “Okay, so maybe we need to back off.”
“A little.” He wiggled the water from his whiskers.
She drove on a little way, then her bright laugh splashed against the gray din of rain.
“What?” He couldn’t help a small smile.
“Nothing.” Her hazel eyes shone his way. “It just occurred to me that nobody’s going to believe us about a magic bread lady.”
The looming rainstorm met them in the driveway. Max unfolded himself from the confines of her aquatic car and squished up the gravel to the front porch. His fur soaked up the rainwater as he tried to shield a takeout bag of rolls.
Kylie padded along as raindrops bounced off her sleek pelt. Once inside, she kicked off her shoes and spun on tiptoe to face him, scarfing down the remains of a roll. “These are actually really good.”