David sighed. “But why would he do that? It just doesn't make sense. I mean, this is his people at risk here. Are you telling me Ankou’s prepared to watch the annihilation of his kin just so he can make bank?”
“Maybe he wants to save for his kids college fund?” Fraidy suggested, drily.
“Respect, bro.” Midnight’s voice was full of admiration as he draped a paw across Fraidy’s shoulders.
“Okay, okay. Let’s not dwell on the morality issues right now. Let’s Try and figure out exactly how Ankou intends to help Shields,” Portia said. “What can the Unseelie King offer the governor?”
“Well, I think everyone’s favorite puzzle might be able to answer that one,” Shade suggested, curling his paw in a beckoning gesture to Eclipse. ‘Clipsy padded into the middle of the room. We waited patiently as he began an impromptu grooming session of his nether regions. I’m confident the most enigmatic of my cats would have continued his scrub-up indefinitely too, had the Witch Fearwyn’s dramatically forceful sigh not interrupted his ablutions. Eclipse surveyed each of us, blinked a few times, yawned, washed his left ear, then graced us with his attention finally. “It’s Mag Mell,” he said. We waited for him to elaborate, but something had caught my moggie’s attention, and he trotted off to investigate something in the corner of the room. See what I mean? ‘Clipsy is a troublingly weird cat sometimes. You know those kitties that follow you around silently and just sit and stare at you, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re thinking? Well, ‘Clipsy is one of those bad-boys, but on steroids.
I turned to my enigmatic cat, and a cold draft circled an icy path around my neck. I’d noticed the cool breeze earlier. I guessed that one of Portia’s windows was cracked and was letting in the stream of wintry air that was currently crawling around my neck. “Um, buddy,” I said to ‘Clipsy, offering a self-conscious shrug to my fellow Custodians at the same time. “Think you might stick around and elaborate on what you've just told us?”
Eclipse turned, offered us a blank stare, looked wistfully into the corner where the menace -- that only he could see -- resided, shrugged, and patted back into the middle of the room. Portia Fearwyn huffed out her impatience once more.
David pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are we going to need a cryptographer, cat, or are you going to give us some straightforward answers?”
“Mag Mell,” ‘Clipsy started again.”Shields needs Mag Mell to keep his dragon safe until it’s reached birthing maturity.” My mysterious cat noted our slack faces. “Don’t you see? Shields keeps his dragon away from any tampering by the likes of us. And by us, I mean the good guys.”
I looked at Eclipse. “But how do you know all this for certain, sunshine?” I mean, I knew that Shields had been using Mag Mell and the faeries there for some time, but I’d seen no evidence that the smarmy governor was still housing his unborn dragon there.
“I had a little look around,” Eclipse said. “While Hinrika and Vee were talking to Ankou, I went on a little recon mission.” I stared at my cat; gawking at the risk he’d taken. I knew full well Ankou wouldn’t have taken too kindly at having his property sniffed at. The Unseelie king had had his fair share of shady dealings in his lifetime, and Goddess only knew what contraband the dubious ruler kept at his court. I could understand why he was so guarded.
“Don’t worry, boss-lady,” Shade said, sticking out his chest. “We had his back, didn’t we bro?” Shade looked over his shoulder at Eclipse. ‘Clipsy offered his sibling a slow blink and then gazed at me. “Shade and Midnight acted as perfect cover,” ‘Clipsy stated. “They pawed and pounced on Ankou’s prized orchids. The ones he keeps lined up at the door. Poor Ankou could barely carry on his conversation with Vee and Hinrika, he was so distracted by Shade and Middie’s trampling-of-the-orchids. Our cousin didn’t even notice I was gone.”
Portia Fearwyn was in no mood to hear about how my kitties cleverly outwitted the Unseelie King. “What did you see, cat?”
“I saw the dragon egg. Cracked open. In two. “ A hushed silence fell over the room. “I also saw it.”
“It?” A chorus from all of us, except Gloom.
“Who does that?” She said, shrugging her front paws at her sides. “Who says ‘it,’ like that in a creepy voice?”
“The dragon,” Eclipse said. “It was suspended in some kind of Warlock crafted magic. Looked a bit like the light from the thing that killed Orville.” Eclipse’s head turned to the dark corner of the room again. “The dragon was curled up asleep. It’s not awake yet, but it looks pretty well formed from what I could see. If I were a betting cat, I’d say ‘any day now.’” ‘Clipsy’s attention turned to the edge of the room, and he slinked away to shadowy corners without another word.
I motorboated my lips. “Okay, well … good work then, buddy,” I said to his retreating rear end. I turned to the rest of the group. “So … now we know that Mag Mell still has a portal open to Cathedral. And who wants to bet that it’s in the heart of Burning Peak?”
David folded his arms and nodded. “The one we shut down. They’ve reopened it. Makes sense.” His words sounded dragged down with effort. I wanted to run and hug him; tell him that this madness would be over soon, but I offered my exhausted man a warm smile instead.
Fraidy said softly: “Hence the over-the-top security around the base of the Glimmers. The goons who want to KILL any intruder, no questions asked.”
“Yes, that would seem to be at least part of the reason the place is swarming with the governor’s men,” Portia said. She drummed a spindly finger against her upper arm. “I wonder how this double-crossing feat might look, though.” She turned to Hinrika and Vee. “Did Ankou indicate as to whether he had any idea of how Shields might trick him?”
Verdantia Eyebright shook her head; her ultraviolet eyes alert and clear. “He wouldn’t get into it,” she said. “He just said that it was worth the risk. Even if Shields didn’t pay the Unseelie Court its promised amount, Ankou and his cloister have already skimmed off a fair amount of cream from Shields’ stockpile.”
“Enough on this now,” Portia said. “We have enough to get through without having to unravel the Unseelie King’s greedy aspirations.” She flicked her head at David. “Chief Para Inspector Trew, what did you get up to today? Apart from growing more white hair, I mean.”
My eyes darted toward David’s head. Portia was right, David’s white streak looked as if it had nearly doubled in width. How the heck I didn’t notice that right off the bat, is beyond me, but there it was; a flash of minus-pigmentation running as wide as a lady’s scarf from his hairline at the front to the nape of his neck at the back. I felt a chill dance lightly up and down my spine.
David filled the Witch Fearwyn, Hinrika and Vee on what Maude had found in Orville’s hair. He explained how the follicle-thin tracker had brought the dreaded spinning device that had ended the dear alchemist’s life.
“And that … thing was meant to kill all of us,” I added, already sharing a snippet of today’s conversation before it was officially my ‘turn’ to speak.
Hinrika jumped up from her chair, her fists balled at her sides. “This man is a terrible man!” She shouted, spraying us all with black spit. A plume of licorice aroma came hot on the heels of the flying spittle.
Vee patted the Faery Queen’s arm and gently brought her back to sitting position.
“Back to the device,” Portia said, piercing the chief with a beady stare. “I understand Artemus is looking into its workings?”
David nodded. “That and he’s also trying to figure out the dragon steel armor for the cats.”
“Poor Artemis has his hands full,” I said. I admired the man, and once again I felt a genuine warm pleasure that Gabrielle had hooked up with such a decent human.
An even colder draft suddenly whooshed through the room. “Oh, I could always handle a few more tasks, Hattie. You should know by now I like to keep busy.” I turned my head to see Artemus walking through the door of the Custodian’s c
hamber. Behind Artemis came Gabrielle, Millie Midge, Reverend Peacefield, Carpathia Alecto, Maude Dulgrey and the Fingernail Moon’s resident landlord, and Maude’s boyfriend and dance partner, Horace Mangler. Their presence was quite unexpected, and more than a little incongruous with the environment of this clandestine bunker.
It was Carpathia who kicked off the show. Gliding into the center of the room, her gloved hand already dangling in mid-air ready for our lippy greetings. “Darlings!” The vampire announced with a trill, “How wonderful it is to be here amid the Custodians. You are our hope, and I think I can speak for all of us when I say we see you all as our one and only hope.” Carpathia twirled so she could give each of us a flash of her delighted grin.
One and only hope? Pressure much?
I came to my senses then and registered my surprise at our unannounced visitors. Glimpsing Portia’s face, she seemed neither surprised nor irritated. Very strange.
“What are you doing here, guys?” I said, taking Carpathia’s proffered hand and pulling her in for a hug instead. I embraced each of them in turn. When it came to Millie, she kissed my cheek and said: “Portia didn’t tell you? She invited us all here tonight. As friends of the Custodians. I guess we’re --”
“Late?” Portia snapped?
“I was going to say ‘needed,’” Millie whispered to me, winking.
“Yes, I invited these friends of the Custodians, here. We need as many trustworthy, competent bodies on our side as possible right now,” The Witch Fearwyn advised, flicking her eyes to each of the new visitors. “And, timekeeping is a core skill in the competency arena, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Dilwyn Werelamb confessed as he padded through the door to Custodian HQ.
Portia rolled her eyes. “Mr. Werelamb, glad you could join us at this late hour. Please take a seat when you’re good and ready. Perhaps a spot of tea? And a slice of cake, maybe?” Dilwyn’s shoulders relaxed at the sweetness of the Witch Fearwyn’s voice. He smiled and nodded his head. “That sounds lovely, thanks. Milk, two sug--”
“Because there is nothing pressing about the end of the world, after all.”
Dilwyn, who had been temporarily mollified by Portia’s kindly offer of light refreshment, stopped in his tracks. He turned his head slowly toward the old witch and her sickly-sweet sarcasm. “Apologies, ma’am. Should there be more meetings, I can promise you I’ll be punctual.”
“This could be our last meeting, Mr. Werelamb.” Although she addressed Dilwyn directly, Portia made sure she made eye contact with each of us. She wanted to be sure we understood the gravity and unbelievable urgency of the planet’s current predicament.
“Ms. Fearwyn’s right, I’m afraid,” Thaddeus Peacefield piped up. “This could well be the last chance we have to meet.” The Reverend shook his head and clapped his hands together. “Forgive me, where are my manners?” He said, smiling at us and greeting each of us in turn with a warm handshake. “Thank you, Custodians, for inviting us here today as Friends of the Custodians. Whatever we can do to serve, please just let us know. You are, without doubt, our one and only hope.”
“Easy, man,” Shade grumbled. “What’s this ‘only hope’ biz? It’s beginnin’ to make me twitchy, know what I mean?”
I rubbed Shade’s ear in silent agreement. I didn’t care for this ‘only hope’ mantra either.
Thaddeus embraced the Witch Fearwyn. And, okay, I quickly forgot we were the ‘only hope.’ I may have fumbled for my camera just to snap the exquisite look of surprise on Portia’s unsuspecting face as Thaddeus crashed into the old witch’s personal space. Portia’s mouth hung ajar, her eyes widening in surprise, as her chin came to rest on the vicar’s shoulder. Realization bloomed by degrees across the old witch’s face as she returned Peacefield’s greeting with a slow-motion embrace. Sure, she might have moved like a petrified twig while she was hugging it out with the Reverend, but I have to tell you … it was pure unadulterated entertainment. I fought the urge to laugh maniacally, but I didn’t think Portia could take such an inappropriate outburst on the heels of such inappropriate touching by the local holy man.
She pulled back from the vicar, but I noticed it wasn’t in quite the same forthright manner we were all so well accustomed to. No, Portia Fearwyn’s self-consciousness bloomed in ruddy streaks across her cheeks. I’d never seen the old witch look embarrassed before.
Interesting.
“Hattie, you’ve already told me what happened on Cathedral today, but why don’t you let everyone else know what yours and Portia’s trip turned up. We can fill everyone in on mine and Vee and Hinrika’s findings after.” Fraidy tapped David’s shin with an indignant paw.
“What are we, chopped liver?” My scaredy-cat demanded.
“Sorry, buddy, of course you’re all part of this, and as always we value your wisdom and input.”
Portia snorted then nodded at me to share our Cathedral intel. I told them about us seeing Shields face to face and about the governor’s outright taunting of us when it came to challenging him on Orville’s murder. Portia shared how the governor seemed surprised that we hadn’t yet pinpointed the Wymrig, and how he appeared entirely unperturbed about being openly accused of being a murderer. My mind cast to the strange part where Shields hinted at the stars and was just about to mention it when Portia voiced my line of thinking. “Does anyone here know about the Red Orb Program?”
Something sparked inside my head. “Yes,” I said, closing my eyes to recall the faded memory better. “Grandma Chimera … she mentioned it a couple of times. A Warlock run space program, right? The goal was to try and get the Warlock population to Mars or something? So they could have their own world to rule?”
Vee nodded. “That sounds familiar, yes. I seem to remember something about the Warlocks pioneering their own space agency …. but that was … Goddess, that must have been back in the seventies.”
Carpathia gasped. “Darling, why you don’t look a day over twenty! I can barely believe you’ve been around since the seventies!” The vampire gave Verdantia a playful bump with her elbow. “We’re practically twinsies too! I’m a child of the seventies, myself. Sixteen-seventy-four, to be exact.”
“Getting back on track,” Portia snapped, turning her attention to the beautiful fairy. “You’re correct, Verdantia. Only the program was fired up in the fifties. It took a decade for it to hit the news, though.”
“Sorry, what’s the Warlock Space Agency got to do with anything? I thought they’d closed their doors back in the eighties, anyway,” David said.
“No, they just pulled back from releasing any press statements. They’ve been in silent operation this whole time, it would seem.”
“Uh, sorry, I’m totally lost here …. Is this like ‘shop talk?’ Do you guys want us to wait outside?” Millie Midge asked of the Custodians.
I put a hand on my assistant’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Millie, I’m only marginally ahead of you in understanding, myself,” I said. “Portia, can you tell us what’s on your mind?”
“The WSA, or Warlock Space Agency heralded the opening of the ROP or Red Orb Program back in the sixties. It was a big event, much fanfare et cetera. The Warlocks opened the agency especially for the Red Orb Program, in fact. They were nothing if not deadly serious about getting their kind to their own planet.” The Witch Fearwyn paused, looking at each of us in turn.
“Anyway, they were in the news constantly for the following ten years or so. The WSA had tech journalists tied in knots of frustration. The press couldn’t get clear answers from the WSA as to what technology they were using for getting people to space. At the time -- and, goodness, even now -- NASA hasn’t landed a manned flight on the red planet. But the WSA, much like the human’s NSA, guarded their secrets with a kind of zealous jealousy.
David held up his hands at this point. “Okay, okay, it’s great that we’re getting a little history lesson here in Warlock space exploration, but seriously, what does this have to do with any
thing?”
“Because Shields kept making strange references about shooting for the stars, and that he might not be available for jail time at Steeltrap.” I paused. “And it would seem now, if what Portia’s driving at is true, that the governor may still have his toes dipped in space exploration and the Red Orb Program.”
“You think that’s why Shields is being so overtly upfront about his dirty deeds? Because he plans to take off to the heavens?” Vee asked.
Hinrika was overcome with another flash of indignant anger. “Terrible man!”
Fraidy chipped in with a sensible question. “What I don’t understand is, if the Warlock Chief was gunning for world domination by way of dragon destruction, then why would he flee the planet that he had just made kowtow to his rule?”
“Now, that is a good question,” David said, reaching down to give Fraidy an ear rub. “If the governor is hinting that he’ll escape to outer space, well, it just doesn’t seem to make any sense. I mean, he has everything here on earth that he needs, right? Money, power, black diamonds, killer tech, a faithful cabinet.” David shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
Portia sighed. “Well, he doesn’t have total dominion here on Earth. And for one who is as ambitious as Gideon Shields, I wouldn’t put it past him that he might want a planet and its citizens under his own reign exclusively.”
The chief made a scoffing sound in his throat. “I’m not arguing that Shields might want total power, but why go to the trouble of attempting to bring Earth to its knees just to flee it?”
we might not know the reason, but let’s just trust that the governor does have a reason
The table, which we were all gathered around, jumped as Hinrika brought her fist down hard on its surface. “Terrible man!” The Queen of the Faeries really did think that Shields was a terrible man.
“Guys, I don’t mean to be rude, but maybe we shouldn’t spend too much time on the governor’s motives and intentions right now. We all know he’s evil, and we all know he’s likely going to keep dishing out the evil deeds, so let’s just let that rest for a bit, and work with the concrete facts we have. Sound good?”
The Angel and the Dragon (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 8) Page 10