Midnight head bonked my elbow. “You’re so clever, boss-lady,” he said, looking up at me with adoring eyes.
Portia sighed. “‘Clever’ might be going a bit overboard, but suffice to say, Seraphim is right on this. Let us begin. What do we have so far?”
A loud scratching noise came from the shadowy corner of the room. Eclipse was beating up his invisible foe and making a lot of noise about it too.
Middie, momentarily distracted by his brother’s investigation, padded into the middle of the room. “Lady?” He said, looking up at the Witch Fearwyn. “I’ve been following along and taking mental notes.” Midnight tapped the side of his head with his paw. “If you’ll allow me to give the rundown?”
Portia’s eyes narrowed on my night-roaming kitty. “Which one are you? You’re not that antsy-pants cat with the catnip and self-control issues, are you?
“Nope, nope, that’s me, yep!” Jet burbled, already springing to his feet for some swift action of any kind.
Portia’s head recoiled at Jet’s statement, but she ignored my kitty and gestured to Midnight to take the floor. Which Middie did. And with a satisfaction that only a proud cat could know.
He bowed. “Ladies and gents, if you please, here is the story so far, only in a smart-cat condensed version.”
“Oh, get on with it,” Gloom sniped, washing her ears as Midnight’s power play played out.
“Okay, Shields’ attempted murder spree is out in the open. The governor doesn’t even try to hide the fact … which can only mean that he has another trick up his sleeve. Whether this is a flight to Mars or not, is by the by right now. We can get back to that once we find out what the governor’s intentions might be. But we can be certain the ‘terrible man,’ as Hinrika would say, is guilty of Orville’s murder.”
“Do carry on, brother,” Onyx encouraged Middie.
“Thanks, O,” Midnight said. “Okay, so a guilty governor we have. We also know from the Mag Mell trip and talking to Ankou, that the Unseelie’s are still in thick with the Warlock Chief, and are not prepared to give away the governor’s secrets just yet. However, said governor is likely going to double cross Mag Mell and the Unseelie Court. Again, we don’t know how Shields will pull his shifty maneuver, we just know from what Ankou says, that it’s likely.
Currently, Mag Mell and specifically the Unseelie Court is holding the unborn dragon there. We assume this dragon will be released into the heart of the Glimmers via a faery portal. As of this moment, we know that Burning Peak is surrounded by Shields’ men and that the waterfall entry we had our hopes on, will not be accessible for at least another two weeks. Which gives Shields the advantage. Again.”
I smiled and nodded at Midnight. I have to say I was pretty impressed with his retaining and ordering of all the facts. I guess, this being our eighth murder investigation in as many months, my cat-of-the-night had gotten pretty good with cataloging facts and leads.
Midnight nodded at Maude then. “Hey, Maude!” He said chirpily. Our coroner friend gave Middie a smile of pink gums and threw him a salmon treat. “So, our Lady Dulgrey here found a tracking device in Orville’s hair. Once again, another piece of advanced Warlock tech gleaned from the innate power of the Black Diamonds.”
Holy Moly, this guy’s on fire! “We have seven dragon steel helmets ready, but no body armor. And, also no head protection for our wee scared bro, here,” Midnight said, pointing directly at a quaking Fraidy. “But, Artemis is working on this, and we, the Infiniti, should be covered soon enough, ‘cos Artie is nothing if not smart.”
Artemis’ gaze cast downward. “Um, actually, I don’t know if we will have the finished product done anytime soon, Middie” he confessed. “I’ve, uh, run into some problems with the numbers, I’m afraid.” Artemus looked at his feet. “I … I ... thought I was pretty capable at math, but, dear Goddess, it turns out Orville Nugget was nothing short of genius.” Gabrielle rubbed his arm, and I overheard her whisper. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, my dear. You’ve worked very diligently on this.”
“Listen to your woman there,” David offered suddenly. “We all know how much effort you’ve put into this. Plus, you’ve been more than helpful with the device that killed young Nugget.”
“Yes, dear,” Gabrielle murmured. “You’ve come up trumps with verifying that it was tachyon tech used in that device.” Artemis leaned over and kissed Gabrielle’s flour dusted cheek, and then turned to us. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot.” He looked at my helmetless kitty. “Fraidy, I’m sorry I’ve come up short with the helmet, but don’t worry, I won’t be resting until I’ve got it. You guys … well, you’re our only hope, so I’m going all out on this.”
“Thank you, Mr. C-c-caves,” Fraidy stammered quietly.
The sound of Portia clearing her throat got all our attention. “Ahem, if you don’t mind, I think I would -- and, I surprise myself here -- prefer if the cat continued. He’s doing an okay job of reigning in our focus.” Midnight beamed and wasted no time in resuming his conclusions so far. He strutted the floor this time, arching an occasional brow, swinging the odd paw, stroking his chin in ponderous thought.
“We know from Dilwyn’s recon that the pressure of the waterfall behind Burning Peak likely won’t be at a manageable level by the time we need to climb it. At least for another couple of weeks, anyway. Which we all know is too late.” Midnight held one paw aloft; one toe rocketing skyward. “But!” He exclaimed. “We also know there’s a rumor of another entrance. An entrance known to an alleged renegade grumlin who’s apparently illegally trading in Black Diamonds. Dilwyn’s boy, Lye, found this out while enjoying a brewski at the Moon.”
“Styx,” Dilwyn said. “Lye is still in prison.” The farmer shuffled his feet awkwardly. My heart went out to the man. Everyone in the room knew how much he loved his twin boys, and everyone knew what a handful the boys could be. Dilwyn tried his best, but his delinquent teens still managed to find trouble at every turn. The only miracle was that Styx wasn’t incarcerated too. I knew David turned as much of a blind eye as he could on the twins dodgy dealings, but Lye got in too deep back when Orville’s dad, Aurel Nugget, was killed. Lye Werelamb had been paid to break into Aurel’s lab and scatter evidence around until the room dripped in an orgy of falsified proof. Poor kid had no choice but to serve a stint in Steeltrap, and I knew it just about broke Dilwyn’s heart.
“Yeah, sorry, Dilwyn. I don’t know how you tell them apart, but I meant Styx,” Midnight offered, giving Dilwyn a full body rub along his shins. “Anyway, we think this hidden entrance is likely just codswallop. The head honcho of the cave systems there at Burning Peak knows nothing of a secret passage so it would seem unlikely that this entrance is a … ‘thing.’”
“Uh, actually I have some news on that,” Dilwyn said. He rummaged in his pocket and brought out a closed fist. “Okay, Styx wasn’t exactly honest with me when he told me about the diamond smuggling grumlin at the Moon. He had told me he just overheard the conversation.” Werelamb unfurled his hand to reveal a palm of black, shiny gems. “Found these in his room,” he said. “So if these diamonds are anything to go by, then it would seem that there could well be another entrance/exit point.” Dilwyn looked at the chief. “CPI Trew, is there any chance you can overlook this misdemeanor?” He pleaded with David. If Dilwyn lost Styx to Steeltrap, then it would literally break the poor man. The chief gave the farmer a wan smile. “Dilwyn, I think it’s fair to say that we have bigger fish to fry right now. Rest assured, I have nothing more than a blind eye on Styx, okay?”
Dilwyn gave a shaky laugh. “Appreciated, chief, thanks.”
“Now that we have played happy families here, can we get back to the cat?” Portia waved a pale hand at Midnight. Clearly, he was getting the job done in a way that satisfied the prickly witch’s efficient sensibilities.
“Lady, I have a name you know? Maybe as me, my bro’s and my sis are all working alongside you now, you’ll address us properly instead of just ‘cat’ all the time.
How would you like it if we called you cat?”
Portia’s brows knitted in confusion. “I imagine I’d be largely unmoved if you decided to call me cat.” She said. “On account of it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of sense, so, please …. Nightcat, will you continue with your ordered observations?” Middie stared at Portia, while banging his tail in a series of hearty thumps on the floor. He let the name error slide, though.
Pinning Portia with a wary sideward glance, Middie continued. “Okay, so it looks like there may be a way into Burning Peak through the waterfall, after all,” he said. “Something we need to check out. And, soon, right?”
“That will be happening, Middie, don’t worry,” David said. “Dilwyn? You up for another potentially dangerous trip to Cathedral? If we meet any grumlins, then we’ll likely need your help translating their sign language. Grumlins didn’t use their vocal chords for interspecies communication. Instead, they signed their language, snipping at the air with their razor-like fingers in a flourish of swift gestures. Which is why we needed Werelamb senior as a translator.
Dilwyn nodded. “I’ll bring a backup broom this time. Just let me know when ‘n’ I’ll be there.”
Another round of scratching came from the corner. Eclipse lay stretched out on his side, digging away at something out of sight. “If it’s helpful, I noticed that the security is less frenetic in the afternoon. Don’t know why that is, but there are way fewer guards on the ground by the time noon rolls around.”
“Good intel, Dilwyn,” I said. “Okay, so we’ll start the search after midday then.”
“We’ll need some other strong bodies,” David said, casting a slow gaze around the room. “If there are any boulders or rocks to be moved around the falls, then we’re going to need muscle.” The landlord of the Fingernail Moon stepped forward which made the chief chuckle. “Horace Mangler, my man, you were made for this job. Welcome aboard.” Horace reached out for David’s extended hand and pumped it vigorously, his cheeks blooming in scarlet flushes from both booze and embarrassment. “Oh, get away wid ya, chief,” he boomed, as his hamhock hand continued to pump David’s. “Maudie ‘ere will tell ya; I ain’t nothin’ but a big ol’ pussycat. But, hey, maybe Shields’ cronies don’t need ta know dat, right?”
Maude’s face lit up like a belisha beacon; even her pale scalp glowed pink under the wisps of her stringy hair. I’m pretty sure I’d never seen the coroner look so happy. The corners of Maude’s lips nearly touched her eyes, her smile was so wide. I briefly tried to picture this odd couple fox-trotting around Saint Pendragon’s church hall on dance night, but couldn’t quite hold the imagery. I just couldn’t conceptualize how Maude pranced to music on two left feet. Yet somehow this peculiar couple managed to get down to everything from the Waltz to the Tango.
Beyond heartwarming, I swear.
Portia clapped her hands. “Okay, folks, so what else. I think Nightcat has reached the end of the line with his observations, yes? And, I’d have to say that he did a fairly competent job too.” She turned her head toward Midnight. Middie puffed out his chest. “Respect,” he said, flying his banner tail.
The Witch Fearwyn turned to some of our newest additions. “As we know, Artemis has verified that the spinning device is Warlock-tachyon-tech, so that’s that. He is currently still trying to get the rats ... sorry, cats, kitted out with the armor. Keep us abreast of your developments, please, Mr. Caves.” Artemis nodded. “And, Gabrielle, Millie and our good Reverend Peacefield here, are looking into the ancient texts of the Avalon Vaults to see if there’s a way we can disable Shields’ monster before all hell breaks loose.” Portia turned to Thaddeus, and then quickly looked away, but not before her cheeks blossomed pink again. “Um, yes … where was I? Oh, yes. How are you all getting along with your research? Have you found anything worthwhile yet?”
Millie opened her mouth to speak, but Portia interrupted her. Still not looking at our peaceable vicar, she mumbled: “Thad … excuse me, Reverend Peacefield, I mean. We’d like to thank you personally for taking such a great risk. We understand that your breaking of canon law so we can access the wisdom of the Vaults, could land you in no end of hot water. We all know full well, that you’d not only lose your position at Saint Pendragons, but they could strip you of all religious ties to the church too. So, yes, a big thank you to you for your efforts.”
Peacefield shook his head. “Nonsense, Ms. Fearwyn, nonsense,” he said. “These are unusual and dangerous times. If I need to explain to the church that our planet depends on this research, I will. Don’t you worry about me.” The vicar looked at Portia briefly and then dropped his head a little. “And, please, call me Thaddeus.”
I noticed Millie beaming at this cute exchange, and, I confess, it brought a smile to my face too.
“Millie,” I said, “Tell everyone what you’re working on right now.” My assistant looked startled at having been suddenly thrown into the limelight. “Oh! Oh, seriously, it’s nothing really.” She gave each of us a sheepish glance, which belied the power of her flaming hair. “To be honest, as I told Hattie earlier, I don’t even know what I’m looking for yet. I’m really just breaking apart some old Futhark and looking for clues, but as of yet …. I only have a series of vague ideas, so nothing worth reporting right now.”
“Well, be sure to advise us, Ms. Midge, as soon as you have anything even remotely promising,” Portia said.
Millie brought her hand to her temple in mock-military fashion. “You know it, Ms. Fearwyn. Gabby’s helping me with some of the tougher, older tongues, so you never know … maybe we’ll pull something out of the bag.”
“Very good, very good,” Portia mused. She clapped her hands again. “Well, I think we may have covered all we can for this evening, so now we just need to lay out our next moves.”
“To the waterfall!” Shade enthused, weaving his way between every ankle in the room like the Romeo flirt he is.
“That is correct, lover-boy,” Portia said. “Hattie, you’ll accompany me, Horace, and Dilwyn to Cathedral tomorrow afternoon.” She turned to the two faeries. “Vee, Hinrika, I’d like you to join us, please? I’m sure it won’t hurt to have as many eyes as possible on the terrain, to make sure we’re not spotted by the goons.”
“Ahem!”
All heads swiveled toward David. “If you think for a second you’re keeping me away from the action on Cathedral, Portia, then you’re very much mistaken. Although my friend’s face was horribly pale and drawn, his flash of anger crawled over his cheeks in a bloom of irate crimson.
The Witch Fearwyn folded her arms and cast a flinty gaze at the chief. “You will NOT be joining us, CPI Trew. You will stay here, where you are safe from Warlock magic.” David opened his mouth to speak, but Portia got there first. “THIS IS NOT OPEN FOR DEBATE, CPI TREW!”
David’s body stiffened, and when he spoke his voice was low and menacing. “You are correct, Ms. Fearwyn,” he said, in a constrained tone. “This isn’t open for debate, and I will be accompanying you to Cathedral tomorrow. End. Of. Story.” I reached out for my friend, and as soon as my hand met his arm, I had to pull back. A charge of hideously vibrant electricity swarmed my body as soon as I made contact with David’s skin. He turned to me, his eyes flashing. “Don’t, Hat. I mean it. Don’t.” So I didn’t. It was pretty clear the chief was in no mood for discussing this matter. I’d have tried to placate him too; only ‘Clipsy had caught the thing that had been troubling him from the corner of the room.
“Put me down, ya great oaf!” Came the voice of Seamus, the brownie. “I’ve come here now to let ya know of important news I were asked to pass on from Sparky, and ya won’t be getting dis news if ya go ‘n’ puncture me vital organs, now will ya’s?”
Eclipse didn’t let our little pixie friend go, however. Instead, he brought him into the center of the room to explain himself. “I can ‘splain meself,” he said with a high pitched whine. “Just back off a bit, why don’t ya’s? Let a brownie have his space, bejabbers!”
Gloom, ignoring the little sprite’s lively pleas, pounced on him and held a controlled paw on top of the brownie’s head. “Talk,” she spat.
“Okay, okay, jeez, take the pressure off a bit, why don’t ya? Your weight is enough to kill a man, me swears on it. What? You been eatin’ donuts all ways to Sunday, or what?”
This ‘weight’ observation didn’t please Gloom one bit. She applied more of her weight to the tiny man’s head. I noticed she gave her body a brief appraisal before she did -- checking for unsightly bulges; of which there were plenty.
“Talk,” she said again.
“Okay, so it’s like this,” Seamus said. “Sparky sent me along to pass on an important message, to be sure.”
“Who, or what is Sparky?” Portia demanded, squinting her eyes at the prone brownie.
“Sparky!” He shouted. “You know, Cressida Dreddock’s little electronic sprite? The ol’ loonie has been trying to get in touch with Hattie here, but Ms. Jenkins hasn’t been too keen on answerin’ her phone, so it is.”
Sparky. We had met this little tech-sprite on one of the last visits to Midnight Hill to see Cressida. Goodness only knows how she made this acquaintance under the watchful gaze of the asylum’s orderlies, but Sparky had proved invaluable in uncovering some of Gideon Shields’ electronic correspondences. Plus, the little imp had become somewhat of a companion to the crazy old witch.
“Anyways,” Seamus continued. “Cressida tried to get Sparky to get into Hattie’s phone after Hattie ignored Lady Dreddock’s call attempts. But Sparky sensed there was some kind of secrecy thing going on in yous guys digital world, so he pulled back. They thought it’d be safer to send yours truly instead.”
Gloom pressed down on Seamus’ head. “What’s the message, punk?”
The Angel and the Dragon (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 8) Page 11