by Vered Ehsani
“No,” he said, a tad too hastily for an honest answer. “I’m sure it’ll turn up.”
His question nagged at me; there was something I had meant to tell him, but before I could clarify what it was, he filled in the silence.
“I fear,” he said, “that the ponytailed dwarf knows of your abilities and your whereabouts, and has adopted an unhealthy interest in both.”
I frowned at the Professor’s insistence on discussing threats on my life and liberty, for such matters should be reserved for later in the day, once the meal had settled. Truly, breakfast chatter was best limited to the weather, superficial pleasantries and requests to pass the teapot.
I mumbled into my toast.
Prof. Runal regarded me with stern eyes. “This is no small issue, Beatrice, not small at all.” He stuffed an entire piece of toast into his mouth, chewed exactly three times and swallowed it down, followed by a loud slurp that drained his teacup in one uncivilized gulp.
“What of it?” I asked, accepting that the sooner we had the conversation, the sooner it would be finished and I wouldn’t have to view the inside of the werewolf’s mouth as he masticated his food.
“The dwarf…”
“Does this dwarf have a name?” I interrupted.
Prof. Runal’s large, hairy eyebrows rose up. “Well, of course not. He never gives out a name or any personal information. Hence we’ve resorted to referring to him as Nameless.”
“How original,” I said, wondering what a ponytailed dwarf named Nameless could possibly want with me.
“Quite,” Prof. Runal said as he cut a large wedge of butter to smother his toast with, followed by a great wallop of jam. “As I was saying, the dwarf commonly referred to as Nameless is rather hostile toward other paranormals, particularly the non-humanoid type. I imagine he wishes to use you to track those down.”
I studied the Professor, wondering what the old dog wasn’t telling me. Up until recently, it would never have crossed my mind to doubt his words or intentions. But now, I sought out the hidden agenda, the secret history, the untold truth.
“And how did Nameless come upon this information regarding my abilities and whereabouts?” I asked.
At that, Prof. Runal took on a decidedly abashed appearance. “Well, my dear,” he said, clearing his throat a few times, “it would seem he had a spy within the ranks, so to speak.”
“So much for your pendulums,” I muttered and continued to study my former mentor and benefactor with an emotion akin to disgust.
His caterpillar eyebrows scrunched together as he devoured another piece of toast in a few chomps. His bulky frame overwhelmed the chair he sat on, and it creaked ominously each time he shifted his weight. His oversized nose quivered as it breathed in the scents around him.
“I feel that perhaps I should be more alarmed with your presence in this room than with some nameless dwarf,” I added, my words measured and pointed.
“Perhaps,” Prof. Runal said, his eyes gazing at me with their fatherly warmth. Or did I detect a certain calculation in them as well? “But at this juncture, our concern must be directed at a mutual adversary, Beatrice, indeed a mutual threat.”
“Mutual threat,” I repeated, my gaze hardening. “What a novel concept. Did you know about Drew’s kidnapping?”
“Beatrice, my dear,” Prof. Runal began.
“Don’t Beatrice my dear me,” I said, maintaining a tight grip on my voice, even as I was tempted to smack a plate over the dog’s head. “Everyone informed us that Drew was dead. But he wasn’t. A werewolf had kidnapped him, and there’s nothing that happens in the English paranormal world that you don’t know about. So why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Prof. Runal sighed. “You’re being very childish, my dear, very childish indeed. The past is done. It’s to the future we must look, the future.”
I stood up with all the composure I could muster. I could hear Mrs. Steward’s muffled voice from the bedroom area. She would soon join us and then nothing of consequence could be said.
“The past isn’t done, Professor,” I said, seething at his lack of shame for what had transpired. “The past is living in my barn. I need to know what happened and why we weren’t informed.”
Prof. Runal leaned back in his chair. I hoped it would snap beneath him and puncture him with a few large splinters, but it held. “You don’t really need to know, Beatrice,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft and low. “Your morbid curiosity is most helpful in an investigation, most helpful indeed, but this particular case was closed a long time ago.”
“Consider it re-opened,” I informed him and hurried out of the room before I succumbed to the urge to smack a plate over his big head. And breaking that plate would never do since Mrs. Steward was rather fond of the set.
Chapter 19
I determined to spend the day away from the house and any possibility of seeing Prof. Runal. Mr. Timmons was busy receiving items to fulfill his railway supply contract, but Cilla would be home, so I set off by foot for their cabin near the edge of the railway camp.
On the way, I detoured into the Bazaar. The informal marketplace had developed rapidly, and was a long alley cluttered with ramshackle kiosks and rickety tables selling anything from bush meat to Indian fabric. Colorful, smelly, loud and littered with garbage, goats, chickens and people, the Bazaar was the perfect place for anyone interested in losing themselves in distractions.
I was very much interested in doing just that.
Still self-conscious about my metal hand, I purchased a piece of colorful material to cover it with. The vendor, a plump Indian fellow with oily skin and a mouthful of curry, avoided commenting on my prosthesis but I observed him eyeing it even as we bargained.
About halfway through my stroll in the crowded market, my skin began to tingle, a sure sign that I was being watched.
I glanced at my metal hand, but it was well concealed under the fabric. Pausing at a kiosk selling roasted maize, I casually glanced about as I purchased a piece.
I noticed the tattooed man first, for he was rather conspicuous. Tattoos covered the man from the top of his bald head to the wrists of both arms. His chest, visible through an open vest, was likewise covered. Underneath the tattoos, his skin was olive-toned. His dark eyes were intently studying me, making no pretense about it.
I pretended not to notice and meandered along, eating my corn. The pleasure of the hot kernels was lost to me as I continued to scan my surroundings.
The dwarf was several kiosks ahead of me.
He too seemed to be casually inspecting the wares, not overly hurried or fussed about the vendors shouting as they demanded his attention. He was dressed as an Englishman would be if about to venture out on a fox hunt, except there were no foxes in the area that I knew of.
I ducked between two stalls and hurried along the rough, narrow path that separated the back of the Bazaar from a series of buildings. While cluttered with supplies for the vendors, it was clear of most people and I would be able to see anyone coming toward me. If anyone did appear, I had only to shout and the vendors working the kiosks would hear me and turn about.
Thus reassured, I expected the dwarf to abandon his hunt.
What I hadn’t anticipated was for a door into one of the buildings to open and a chloroform-soaked bag to materialize around my head.
Chapter 20
At some point, the chloroform wore off sufficiently that I awoke.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t very helpful, as I opened my eyes to view the void, wolf by my side. The beast looked at me reproachfully.
“If there’s no other option, I’ll let you at them,” I reassured it, wondering how the dwarf would react to my wolf energy. “But I’d prefer to exhaust all other avenues first, before I allow you to tear open their miserable throats.”
Satisfied with that promise, the wolf barked once and trotted off. I followed its light, hoping it was leading me to Lilly, or Gideon at least. Imagine my delight whe
n it led me to both of them.
The two were engaged so deeply in conversation that they didn’t notice my approach until the wolf jumped between the two of them.
“Goodness,” Lilly shrieked.
Gideon smirked and patted the wolf. “It’s a very suitable spirit animal for you, my darling.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I think.”
“Why do we continue to meet in this dream?” Lilly inquired, gazing about as if there was anything to look at.
“This isn’t a dream world, Lilly” I said, hoping I wouldn’t frighten her with my theory. “I believe it used to belong to Mrs. Cricket. It’s the place she created to trap her victims.”
Her confusion crumbled into panic as she backed away. “We must leave it then, right away, and never come back.” She spun about as if searching for the exit.
“No, it’s all right, Lilly,” I said, trying to reassure her but in actual fact, I sounded more desperate than anything else. “She’s not here. Mr. Timmons took care of her, and now this place is ours, or rather, it’s yours. This is your world now. And you can use this power, Lilly. Don’t be afraid of it.”
That revelation only added to her discomposure. “I don’t want it,” she wailed, her eyes panicked and unfocused. “I’m nothing like her. Why would you tell me to use it, Bee?”
Gideon sat next to the wolf, unconcerned. Then again, he was already dead and safe from possession, so what did he need to worry about?
“Lilly,” I said with a bit more sharpness than I’d intended. “I don’t have much time. They’ll come back soon. I need your help.”
“Who’ll come back?” Gideon demanded.
“How can I help?” Lilly asked, doubt replacing fear.
“A ponytailed dwarf called Nameless,” I answered Gideon, which of course didn’t enlighten him in the least. “And you need to tell Mr. Timmons where I am.”
“So where are you?” Lilly asked, always the pragmatist.
“What dwarf?” Gideon growled as he stood up, his countenance stormy and determined, as if he would personally track down and pulverize every ponytailed dwarf on the continent.
As endearing as that was, I ignored him. “I’m not sure, Lilly, but Gideon can find me. He’s always able to follow me wherever I go.”
“Really?” Gideon asked. “Oh, yes, I suppose so.”
“Lilly, you must stay here until Gideon returns,” I said. “And once he tells you where I am, wake up and tell the others.”
I knew she’d understand that by ‘others’, I meant our circle of supernatural friends. She nodded her head as she huddled next to Gideon, her arms clutched about herself as if to hold everything together.
“And Lilly,” I warned, “you need to learn how to control this. You might be able to trap their souls in this dark world, and that would be most helpful indeed.”
“And horrible,” Lilly whispered with a shudder as she frowned, staring down at her feet.
“Engaging an inner power is not for the faint of heart or weak of mind,” I conceded, fully sympathizing with her reluctance. How long had I resisted calling forth the wolf energy, fearful of losing control? “But it may be our only option. Will you be open to that?”
She nodded her head again but remained silent.
“Gideon, find me please,” I said just as something jolted me. “I have to go.”
“I’m coming,” Gideon promised but his beautiful eyes didn’t shine with confidence.
“I know you can do this,” I said. We all needed to hear that, even though a part of me wondered if he really could.
Well, he’d always appeared at my side before when I didn’t want him there, a most inconvenient habit of his. Surely, he could manage the same when I truly needed him, when my life and the lives of others depended on it?
Before I could reassure him further, something yanked me out of the void and into a dark room.
Chapter 21
Despite being a light sleeper, I wasn’t particularly fussy about where I slept, as long as it was on a horizontal surface. That said, I didn’t much appreciate waking up to a headache and the feel of grit and small stones underneath me.
My ankles were tied together and my arms were bound firmly to my sides; whatever they were tied with was too strong and scratchy to wriggle out of. All I could do was push myself upright, my back leaning against rough stone wall. I cleared my throat, trying to liberate it from a terrible dryness.
Before I could decide what to do or what had woken me, a door opened, and an unsteady light and two shadows entered. The door closed and the large, tattooed man leaned against it. He set the storm lantern at his feet and began paring his fingernails with a sharp knife, ignoring my existence.
Standing between the man and myself was the dwarf I’d seen in the Bazaar. His dark hair was slicked back with a heavy handed application of oil and ended in a ponytail; his ample mouth was framed with a sharp goatee and long mustache, as if the length of the facial hair could make up for his lack of height. I squinted and peered into his energy field, which verified that he was in fact a dwarf and not an unnaturally small man.
I had to admit, despite my current predicament, that he was a rather handsome specimen. He was well proportioned, for one of his species, and muscular, with an intelligent face, bright eyes and a regal bearing. The brightness in his eyes however could only disguise the cruel glint from those not accustomed to the study of character.
This was not a man to trust.
“Ah, Miss Knight, you are awake, at last,” the little man with the ponytail said with the same sort of tone one would use when announcing afternoon tea. I was startled by his posh Londoner accent, which had a strangely feminine pitch to it.
“Yes, it would seem so,” I said in just as polite a tone.
“Or do you prefer Mrs. Knight?” he queried.
“Either will suffice,” I responded. “And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
He held up his hands as if in surrender. “Names are so overrated, wouldn’t you agree?”
“If you say so,” I said. “I do wonder though if you would be kind enough to untie my arms. My head itches rather fiercely. I fear I may have collected a tick or two.”
“Of course,” the dwarf enthused, making no move to loosen the bonds. “A simple precaution, you understand.”
I didn’t really understand at all but thought it best to remain mute on that point. Besides, my attention had been snagged by the sight of Gideon floating through the wall. He was glaring quite crossly at the dwarf. I caught his eye and twitched my head toward the wall he’d just entered through. He either didn’t notice my indication that he should promptly leave, or he ignored it. His wrathful attention was fixed on my diminutive captor.
“Speaking of precautions, I took the liberty of removing this, to make your stay more comfortable,” he said and pulled out my metal hand from a pocket. He dangled it in front of his face, as if to make it do something entertaining. “A most unique contraption. But how unfortunate. How did you manage to lose your hand, my dear lady?”
“It was eaten by an oversized Praying Mantis with an attitude,” I said, wishing that Mantis would take an interest in the dwarf. Psychopathic paranormals could be so predictably inconsiderate in their choice of prey.
“And your ear is unusually mangled,” he pointed out.
“It was bitten by a werewolf,” I explained, wondering what delight my inquisitor could receive by highlighting my defects.
The dwarf shook his head, clucked in sympathy and dropped the hand to the floor, where it clattered against the stone. “My deepest condolences, Mrs. Knight. You seem to have had a streak of unfortunate interactions with the paranormal community, but perhaps this will allow you to appreciate my mission more than others?”
As I was uncertain what that might mean, I settled into a stoic silence.
“You see, Mrs. Knight,” he continued, “I’ve heard much about you and your unique talents.”
He paused, st
udying me as if to ensure I was listening. For my part, there wasn’t anything else to do.
“We could certainly use your skills,” he enunciated carefully, as if explaining complex algebra to a young child. “You see, we are hunters of those creatures that plague and haunt humanity.”
Think stupid thoughts, I reminded myself.
Nothing startled a man in this age more than a woman with a keen intelligence, especially if that intelligence was greater than the man’s. That being the case, these two were likely to be very disconcerted if I wasn’t vigilant. And I had to delay them as much as possible, until Gideon could return with assistance, if he ever left.
“You wish me to help you hunt the beasts down?” I asked, forcing a tremor in my voice, which given the circumstances wasn’t that difficult to do. All I had to imagine was the supper, and possibly the breakfast, that I was surely missing, and indeed my whole body quivered with the loss of it.
“Yes, my dear, that is precisely what we’re hoping for,” the dwarf replied, beaming at my comprehension.
Why had Prof. Runal been so concerned about this imbecile of a man?
“But you realize,” I said in an even softer voice, “if I help you and they find out, they’ll make my life miserable. I’ve already lost a hand and half my ear.”
I sniffed, wishing I could cry at will, like Lilly could. Such a skill was highly useful for a woman in my circumstance. Alas, my tear ducts refused to assist me in this, but at least I sounded suitably miserable.
Perhaps, I reflected, I should take the acquisition of such skills more seriously, and practice crying and fainting on demand.
Nameless had the temerity to kneel before me and place his stubby little hands over his dark heart. “My precious Mrs. Knight, your safety is my second... Or rather, my third highest priority. I assure you, your assistance will be a secret. Those appalling creatures will never know what hit them.”
My eyes widened. Either this fellow was delusional or he had weapons unheard of by modern, nineteenth century society. “But how will you immobilize them?” I asked, momentarily forgetting my pretense at stupidity and fear. “The Tokolosh can disappear into water, the shape shifters are unbelievably fast and… Well, you see my point.”