The Curious Case of the Cursed Crucible

by Constance Barker

  “We keep people away from dangerous things.”

  “Look, young lady,” Leopold said, snickering, “I can say that, now that I’m effectively an octogenarian—these artifacts might have consequences, but so does everything else in life. This crucible can bring peace to a lot of people. And if the person using it and the people it heals are in the know, then who is Cecilia, or Clarence, or anyone else, to forbid them and hide it away? Why are the Antique Dealers any more qualified than the Family or the Cabal to tell everyone else what to do? I want to pass it along to someone who will continue to do good with it, not hide it away where it is useless.”

  That one stumped me. I stared at him open-mouthed. “I hadn’t thought of it quite that way. Most of the artifacts we’ve encountered didn’t actually do good with controllable side effects. People were hurt when they were used and often they weren’t ‘in the know’ as you say.”

  “In that respect, at least, this artifact is different. And anyway...” he nodded at Bel, “I can’t know that you will keep it from him, and if he gets it, the Cabal would have it. That would scarcely be an improvement over the family having it.”

  I thought he might have a valid point about Bel. “Leopold, we, Clarence and I, at least, aren’t in the business of trying to tell people what to do. We just want to make sure that something that could do a lot of harm is in a safe place. We want to ensure it does the least amount of harm.” I put my hand on his. “I doubt, looking at you, that you’ve got much more time to give. And you can’t assume that the next person will be like you. What if they con you and then use it just like your family does? Or worse.”

  Leopold got a slightly haunted look that hunkered his shoulders making him look even older. “I’ll know,” he said. “I’ll test them, have them do some healings. I’ll be able to tell. And if I can’t find anyone in time, I’ll just bury the thing, maybe drop it in the ocean, so the family can’t get it back.”

  “Why is that better than us putting it away?” Clarence asked.

  “It isn’t really, but it would make certain my family didn’t get it from you.”

  “Why is that so important?” I asked. “They might be making money from it, but they get the same result you do, just for rich and powerful... that seems better than throwing it in the ocean.”

  Leopold sighed again. “You need to understand the way the crucible works. To make the medicine requires some blood from the ‘donor.’ That was me and my brothers and sisters, now just me. The crucible doesn’t care whose blood goes into it, it transfers six months of life from whoever’s blood it receives. And, I didn’t mention this before, I never do, but a person can take the medicine repeatedly.”

  Belial sat up straight. “A single person can take it many times? Without limit?”

  Leopold nodded. “As long as someone produces the medicine a person could continue taking it. There doesn’t seem to be a downside to extending your time again every six months.”

  “And theoretically live forever?” I asked.

  He smiled. “How long is that? Indefinitely, at any rate. That’s not what I wanted for my mother, of course, but I wouldn’t put it past my father to do that. He’s feeling his own age now and mentioned it a few times, so I know it's on his mind. He has the resources to find donors even if he has to resort to those who might not even be willing. If he felt threatened, he would happily take the medicine on a regular basis, even though it killed the donors.”

  I wondered if I could find an argument to convince Leopold to give up the crucible and come with us, a way to assure him that even if it wasn’t used for good, stored safely away, it couldn’t destroy the lives of other people. I could introduce him to Enid. She was as old as he looked, after all. Perhaps they’d find something in common.

  “Oh crap,” Leopold said.

  I turned to look where he was staring and saw two well-dressed men enter the diner.

  “What are those guys?” Clarence asked. “They look like secret service agents. Is the president going to pop in and have a photo op?”

  “No,” Leopold said. He sounded resigned. “It’s much worse than that, I’m afraid. Far worse. I think we need to leave and quickly.”

  Chapter Eleven

  As the two men walked by us, paying us little or no attention, I struggled to put my thoughts together. That’s something that can be difficult at the best of times and these didn’t seem to be the best of times at all. Leopold shifted uncomfortably in his seat; out of the corner of my eye I saw him nudge his bag under the table with his foot. Obviously, he knew who these men were and didn’t want them to see his bag.

  “Who are they?” I whispered. The men had walked past us and gone to sit on stools at the counter; the waitress came up to bubble at them cheerfully. I guess she smelled the possibility of a good tip.

  “I don’t know them, exactly, but I do know they are hired goons. Seems the family found my trail too.”

  “It’s kind of hard to miss if you know what you're looking for,” Edgar, who had been silent up till then, said.

  “Was it that easy to find me?” Leopold asked, sounding concerned.

  “Not so easy. It took consummate detective skills,” Edgar said. “But we are professionals.”

  “We followed the trail of miracles,” Clarence said.

  Leopold smiled. “Okay then. If I stay away from the miracles, I should be good?”

  “That would’ve kept us from finding you,” I said.

  He waved at the waitress. “Say, dearie,” he said, sounding a bit like the old men you see in movies. “Can I get the check, please?” Then he turned to us. “It’s so good to see you kids,” he said. “This visit has been special. I’ve been so lonely since your grandmother died.”

  The two men had taken seats at the counter and didn’t seem to pay us any attention. “You probably look a lot different than when they last saw you,” I said softly. “That’s a bonus.”

  “Good deeds are their own reward,” he said. “But something brought them here.” Suddenly, he seemed to figure something out. He snapped his fingers. The waitress brought the check and Leopold paid her in cash. “We need to get out of here,” he said, standing. Then he continued his role as the doting grandfather and led us out of the diner.

  “What’s the rush?” Clarence asked.

  “Those men aren’t detectives. They work for the family and I’m sure that they are tracking me with an artifact,” he said, looking around. “It’s a very effective tool, but it only works once an hour or so.”

  “What are you looking for?” Bel asked.

  “The third person. As you know, there is always a price for using cursed objects. In this case, the one who uses it absorbs its power and that disorients and weakens him. Just the kind of appropriate action you’d expect.”

  “Like in the Mikado,” Clarence said. “The punishment fits the crime.”

  “Gilbert and Sullivan,” Bel said happily. “I love their stuff.”

  “Since those two looked pretty chipper, there is probably a third person sleeping in a car, recovering from the effects of tracking me.” He pointed. “And my car is in that direction. I need to go.”

  As he started off, I touched his arm. “We have a car right here,” I said, pointing to Bel’s car. “Please come with us.”

  “There’s too much to do,” he said.

  “There always is, but right now, not for you. You don’t have many years left to give anyone. You’ve been generous with what you’ve done. Amazingly so. But you have to understand that you are done now.”

  “I suppose that’s true, but I don’t want to get you involved with the family. They are ruthless.”

  “I appreciate that,” Clarence said. “But you need our help.”

  “And as long as I have the crucible I have to stay on the run.”

  “Then get rid of it.” He looked at me. “We have just the place. It will be out of harm’s way and out of their reach,” I said.

  “There’s no such p
lace,” he said.

  “Actually there is,” Belial agreed.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know where it is either. I do know that it exists and that the Cabal would love to find an entrance to it.”

  I didn’t think it necessary to tell him that several Cabal members had found their way there from time to time and that at least two were still in it.

  “What kind of place is this?” Leopold asked.

  “I can’t tell you anything specific,” I said. Even though Leopold had no reason to pass the information along, I didn’t want to share any details about the Grand Storehouse. Too many people knew too much about it already, and I didn’t know nearly enough.

  Leopold set his face. “Then we are at a stalemate.”

  “I have an idea,” Bel said.

  We all looked at him.

  He smiled. “Why don’t we simply take the tracking artifact away from those men. Then they can’t follow you.”

  “You guys did,” Leopold did.

  Bel nodded. “True, yet I really doubt they are as good at using basic detective skills the way Cecilia and Clarence are. It’s a different skill set.” I noticed that he forgot to mention his own ability to track DuLac. I wasn’t sure if that was humility in action, or something else.

  “Maybe that would work,” Leopold said. “But they won’t just give it up.”

  “No, they won’t,” I said. “But...”

  Hope flickered across Leopold’s face. “Well, if you have a plan, I’d be glad to listen to. Having the tracker out of their hands would make what time I have left far more peaceful, regardless of how we deal with the crucible.”

  “And we get another artifact,” Clarence said. “Bonus time.”

  Clarence didn’t see it, but the look Bel gave him made me wonder if his own plans didn’t include that artifact.

  “So what’s your plan?” Leopold asked Bel.

  “We get the artifact from them,” he said. “I’m afraid that’s as far as I’ve gotten in my thinking. You just mentioned it a moment ago, after all. I thought I was doing pretty well.” He looked at me. “It sounded like...”

  “I do have the beginning of an idea,” I told them. I was winging it again, of course. I didn’t have a plan... plans were usually made of sterner stuff than my ideas. I needed some information.

  “What is it?” Leopold asked.

  “First, research.” I glanced into the diner. “Edgar, go back in the diner, get close to those men and see if you can’t identify the artifact,” I said. “I’ll stand inside the door and give you as much distance as I can without showing myself. Learn as much as you can.”

  He smiled, excited to be part of things. “To the front,” he said, pointing a finger at the sky and charging back in. I went over to stand at the racks of local real estate papers and the cork board that held the business cards of local business people. Dog groomers who would pick up and deliver; hairstylists; a locksmith; a car wash that had a new wax that was harder and shinier than ever before. I read them all as if I was looking for something.

  When Edgar came out, he was frowning. “Everything about it is rather vague,” he said. “I never got a clear sense of it.”

  “I didn’t either,” Bel said. “I was aware of it when they walked past us, but I couldn’t say what it was.”

  “I do know it’s in the inside coat pocket of one of the men.”

  “Which man?” Clarence asked.

  “The big one.”

  Clarence groaned. “Of course. It had to be. He looks mean.”

  “Now what?” Leopold asked. “We know where it is, but not how to get it and soon enough they’ll be able to use it again. So tell me something good and clever, or I’ll get back to my program of running away.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Here is what we do.” And then, as they huddled around, I told them my idea. It was a good idea. A daring idea. The kind of idea Lila Twill might come up with. Of course, that meant it would make Clarence nervous. But that was okay. It was Leopold who needed to be convinced and I had no idea if Leopold DuLac would go for it.

  When I finished, he shook his head. “I think you are nuts,” he said.

  “I think you might be right,” I told him.

  He smiled. “Then let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The day was getting hot, but the sunshine wasn’t the reason I was sweating as we waited outside for the men to emerge. It was nerves. My plan had to work and there were so many ways it could go wrong.

  We’d staged the scene as best we could. Leopold sat on the sidewalk, slumping against the wall of the diner and Clarence, Bel, and I (Edgar too, although the men wouldn’t see him) clustered around him. When the men stepped out through the door, I ran to them. “Help!” I shouted.

  They looked startled, but more annoyed than eager to help. “What?” One of the men said gruffly.

  “I think my grandfather is having a heart attack. Do either of you have a phone? We need to call 911.”

  “They’ve got one inside,” the bigger man said. “Go talk to the cashier.”

  “Grandpa might be dying!” I screamed, making sure I was yelling right in his face. “There’s no time.”

  The smaller man made an unhappy face but took out his phone. The bigger man stared curiously at Leopold, but Bel moved between them, kneeling down to keep him from getting a good look. Leopold looked old, but there was an oddness about him... probably due to the odd way he had aged, sort of from the top down, or skipping years from the far end, or something.

  While the smaller man made the call, the big one came over and knelt down beside Leopold who reached out and grabbed him by the lapels. “I feel cold,” he said. “This is the end. I can tell. Tell my family I love them and that I’ll watch over them.”

  Taking advantage of the chaos, I threw myself into the arms of the man who was trying to talk to the police dispatcher, doing my best to simulate uncontrolled crying. Meantime, Clarence was peeling Leopold’s hands from the big man’s coat. He stood up, brushing himself off and Clarence helped him, giving him a vigorous brushing with his hands as the man tried to back up and get away from him. Then Clarence stumbled forward, and they fell against the wall. In that moment, Edgar reached through the man’s jacket and bumped the artifact out of his pocket. It was a small object, rectangular and about an inch thick. Clarence managed a deft catch, snagging it in mid-air, and slipped it into his own pocket.

  I saw that the effort of working with physical objects had made Edgar become a little harder to see. There was always that problem with his stamina, but his job was done. Clarence moved back over to kneel by Leopold.

  “What’s your grandfather’s name?” The man on the phone asked.

  The question stopped me. I hadn’t expected it. Clarence turned his head to stare at him. He saw me struggling and took action. “Mason Parrish,” he said, blurting the name out.

  I felt my heart sink.

  The man on the phone nodded and repeated the name to the dispatcher. Then he looked down at Leopold, glanced at his partner, who nodded and pushed me away.

  The big man took stock of the situation and patted his pockets. “Damn thieves,” he growled.

  “Antique Dealers,” his partner said flatly. “Operator, I’m afraid we’ve all been played for idiots. There is no emergency here. It was just a prank.”

  I felt sick. We were busted. For a brief moment, I wondered how fast Leopold could run. I doubted it would be fast enough. These guys looked far too healthy.

  “I’ll admit that I do enjoy antiques,” Clarence said weakly. “But right now we have to deal with getting grandfather some medical attention.”

  “I’m so cold,” Leopold said.

  “And boring,” the big man said. “And a lousy actor.” He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Clarence. “Nobody move.” We were all as still as a deer in the forest trying to be invisible. And it was for the same reason. None of us wanted to be shot. “First thing on our new ag
enda...” he told Clarence, “...is you giving me back that little item you managed to take out of my pocket when you pushed me into the wall.”

  Clarence tried to look befuddled and did a fair job of it. “Object? What object?”

  The man waved the gun at him and not for the first time. I wondered why I can’t ever roll a stop sign without being caught and other people can threaten you with guns and you can’t find a cop even after you’ve called 911. There is a fundamental lack of fairness at play there.

  “Stop with the games. And understand that it would be a lot easier for me, although a lot harder on you if I shot you and took it off your dead body,” the man said. “So I’m perfectly willing to take that route if you insist.”

  Clarence gave me a look of frustration before reaching in his pocket and handing it to the man.

  “Check this guy’s shoulder,” the big man said.

  “The old guy?”

  The big man nodded. “I have a hunch.”

  The smaller man, carefully avoiding walking between his partner and us, went over and pulled Leopold to his feet. He grabbed his shirt and sweater and pulled them aside. “It’s him. You called it.” He held Leopold by his collar. “Leopold DuLac, you have led us a merry chase.”

  I could feel the entire situation slipping away from us. We were losing the battle and the war.

  The big man shook his head. “This is a family matter and you three shouldn’t be involved,” he said. “This gentleman’s family has missed him and we are going to return him to where he belongs.”

  Bel smiled at him. “We are just trying to help...”

  “I suggest that you mind your own business. The Family has no quarrel with Dealers. They are happy for you to go about your business, carry on your spats with the Cabal. And we work for the Family, and so have no problem with you either. But interfere and that can change rather quickly. We weren’t warned Antique Dealers might get involved, although we can understand how that might happen. We will assume, for now, that you were simply on the trail of an artifact and that led you to... our reason for being here.”