They are traveling downward as the noise from the city becomes less and less while the air becomes warmer with an earthy taste to it. The ground is no longer harsh under her feet but soft upon each step like they are out in a newly dug field with dirt cushioning each forward step. Until finally light starts to filter through the bag on Helga’s head. Rushing water sounds nearby or is it the murmuring of people?
Helga cannot figure out if it is people or water when they stop. The sounds go silent when Lady Ava pulls the sack off of Helga’s head.
Helga stands there, blinking, trying to adjust her eyes to the lighting. They are in a tiny room. Off to her right is a small lady with pointed ears and wings. She’s holding a black robe. She’s smiling, her long canines displaying in all their glory, with her cheeks reaching towards her dancing violet eyes.
Lady Ava turns to the tiny woman with wings taking the robe from her and nods, saying, “Thank you, Larissa. You may now take your seat.”
Helga watches the tiny woman with gossamer wings flutter and skip from the room until her attention is brought back to the robe being placed into her hands.
“You may change in here, Helga,” Lady Ava says, “When you are done please join us out front.” Lady Ava leaves through the same exit that the tiny woman used a few seconds earlier.
Unraveling the robe and holding it out in front of her, Helga inspects it. It’s black, with tiny silver stitching, spun silk making the fabric almost weightless. Helga frowns as she thinks of her own body and how she’ll only ruin the robe’s slender profile.
She hears the murmuring getting louder. It’s people. And more people are arriving. How many people are a part of Lady Ava’s society?
Another question crosses Helga’s mind when she wonders, “Do I need to take my clothes off? Or should I keep them on?”
Helga peers at the exit and sighs, “I wish I asked Lady Ava that small detail before she left.” Shrugging her shoulders, she decides, “Oh well, clothes on it is . . .”
Stepping into the smooth and silky robe, Helga feels the electrical charge of magic course throughout her body. She shakes a little as the magic continues to rush from one end to the other. She looks at herself in the mirror to make sure that nothing is out of place. It looks good, even with her clothes on underneath, she looks fabulous in the robe.
She notices something on the floor, a mask, that apparently fell out of the robe. She picks it up and puts it on, staring back at her mysterious reflection. Helga runs her hand over the fabric one more time as the magic dances about her hands.
Her stomach grumbles as more butterflies bump around within it when she stares at the door that leads out front. This is it. There’s no turning back now. Helga’s hands become slippery with sweat as she opens and closes them to calm her nerves.
She steps through the door, embracing her destiny.
Clapping echoes throughout the hall enjoined by the whistles of the crowd. Helga stares out at the multitude of people wearing masks and dark robes. It’s like a masquerade ball or a banquet. The hall is dark except for the elaborate sconces that hang from the columns, illuminating the dark elegant fabric, draping down the walls.
She searches for Lady Ava when Larissa appears, pulling Helga’s hood up. Brimstone is there too. He offers her his hand to guide her to the stage. Music begins playing an eerie tone as the crowd hushes to watch Helga walk down the aisle to the platform upfront.
Lady Ava stands at the platform behind a podium. Her eyes gleam with pride as Helga nears the platform. Brimstone leans in close to Helga and whispers, “Remember, if you have second thoughts, you know what to do.”
Butterflies flutter in Helga’s stomach as she nears the platform. Is she making the right choice? What if the TRUE society is actually the bad guys? She swallows a hard lump down her throat and stares forwards making sure each step does not falter on her way to the stage.
They reach the stairs leading up when the music pauses and begins playing a new tune. Brimstone releases her hand and points up the stairs indicating that Helga must journey up them by herself.
She draws in her breath and releases it as she places one foot after another onto each step leading up to the stage. The music’s tempo gets faster almost matching her racing heart. Her final step reaches the top. Her hands begin shaking, so she clenches them into fists and looks down at the floor. Moving in a straight line, she reaches the podium as the music stops with her.
A silvery laugh fills the hall as Lady Ava steps away from the podium. With a chalice in one hand she places her other onto Helga’s shoulder.
“It gives me great pleasure,” she announces, “to introduce this young and very talented witch to our society. She, unlike others, such as her parents,” Lady Ava continues as the crowd hisses, “shows great promise, loyalty, and power.”
Walking in front of Helga, she bends down to look her in the eyes. Lady Ava’s eyes sparkle when she says in a low voice, “Helga Contessa MoonFire, as an initiate for True Real Users of Enchantments society, do you solemnly swear to uphold our way of magic? To give no mortal mercy, to do as you please, and to obliterate all those who stand in your way?”
The use of Helga’s true name compels her to answer Lady Ava’s question. Her stomach tightens as she strains to give herself time to think about her answer. Does she really want to destroy anyone who stands in her way? That sounds evil.
Lady Ava arches an eyebrow waiting for Helga to answer the oath. The hall is dead silent as Helga stands there, debating on her answer. Helga begins to feel faint, for the compulsion to answer is getting stronger, building pressure behind her closed lips.
She swallows again and stammers, “I, Helga Contessa MoonFire, as an initiate for True Real Users of Enchantments society, do solemnly swear to uphold our way of magic.”
Helga fusses with her robe clenching it in her fists as she continues, “I shall give no mortals mercy, do as I please . . .”
Lady Ava prompts her to finish, “Helga, the rest, please.”
Biting her lip, Helga stares out at the crowd, her stomach drops as she utters the final piece, “And obliterate all those who stand in my way.”
Lady Ava offers the chalice and Helga takes a sip of the sweet wine in it. Lady Ava stands up and turns to the crowd, holding Helga’s hand up, declaring, “I would like to introduce our newest member, Helga!”
Two flashes of fire shoot off on both sides of the podium, momentarily blinding Helga. The crowd begins clapping. Music begins playing. Helga’s cheeks flush with heat and her stomach knots, as she stares down at the ground.
It’s what she wanted, so why does she feel miserable? Does she truly not want this after all? No turning back now, for she’s now a member of the TRUE.
As her Lady walks away Helga remembers what Brimstone offered her earlier. She does have a way out. She searches the crowd for Brimstone and then sees his golden eyes peering out from the shadows. With his eyes on her she taps her foot twice on the podium. He nods and disappears.
She follows her Lady out into the crowd to meet with the rest of the members. The ceremony lasts into the wee hours of the morning.
Returning back to the cafe Helga only has a few moments to slip into bed before her sisters might discover her gone. Raven greets her with a quiet purr as Helga throws a few more treats to keep the cat quiet. She sneaks up the steps, doing her best to avoid the squeaky one. Slipping into her sheets she hears her sisters begin to move about as they wake from their slumber.
Helga has made it back home with her sisters unaware of her nightly activities. She silently snickers to herself as she tries to snag a few minutes of sleep before her eldest sister Agnes wakes her up for the day.
2
Investigation
A knock echoes on the open door as the officer enters with a folder in hand.
Higgins leans back in his chair making it creak under his enormous weight as he places his hands on his belly. His bushy mustache twitches as he watches the officer approach h
im with another missing member of the Order of Magic case file.
“Chief Higgins, Sir!” the officer says as he strides over to Higgins’s desk and places the folder on it, “Another member has vanished.”
Higgins sighs and opens the folder. “Another, you say?”
“Yes, sir,” the officer replies.
Higgins flips through the pictures and other papers related to the crime scene. He glances up at the officer. “Did you find anything?” he asks.
“No, da member just vanished. Leaving only their clothing behind them,” the officer says, staring at the wall behind Higgins.
Higgins pulls out his handkerchief and mops his brow. Another member missing. His job is on the line if he does not get down to the bottom of what’s causing the disappearances. The press is going to have a field day with this one.
He stares at the picture of the clothing and spots something in it. He rolls his chair backwards and snatches a few other files stacked up on a cabinet behind him. Rolling back to his desk he slams them down and pulls out pictures of the other crime scenes.
“Sir?” The officer leans forward craning his neck to try and see what his superior sees in the photos. “What is it?”
Tapping his finger on the photo, a wry grin tugs on the corners of Higgins’s mouth. “I think I may have found our link.”
“An energy potion, sir?” The officer’s brow creases upward.
“Yes,” Higgins continues, “Do we still have one in the evidence locker?”
“Of course, sir.” The officer salutes and exits Higgins’s office.
Higgins turns in his chair watching the traffic drive past the station. Too many high-ranking members of the Order have gone missing with no leads. This energy potion may very well be their first clue as to what may have happened to them.
He hears footsteps along with chatter of his most trusted officer, Officer Nick Shields, accompanied by the other officer, Officer Carl Horn.
In Nick’s hands is a plastic bag that holds a bottle labeled, “Super Awesome Energy Drink.” He places the bag on his desk and hands Higgins a pair of gloves, observing, “I don’t care who you are, sir, but everyone must wear gloves when handling evidence.”
He takes the gloves from him and puts them on. Unzipping the bag he pulls out the bottle to inspect it. Turning it around in his hand he brings the mouth of the bottle to his nose to sniff it. He flinches, pulling the bottle away from his face, “Ugh, what vile stuff. Who on earth would drink this?”
Carl offers, “Apparently a high-ranking member, sir.”
Higgins frowns taking another peek at the label on the bottle. “It doesn’t say who made it. What did our forensic lab say?”
Nick answers, “Not much, except the ingredients involved dog hair and a few other magical items. They say that this obviously was not an energy potion but more of a transfiguration potion. Anyone who drank it would have been turned into a hound.”
Scratching his jaw and smoothing out his mustache, Higgins inquires, “Why could they not turn back then? Most potions expire, don’t they?”
Nick grimaces before answering, “This potion, including the others, based on what was left is exceptionally powerful. Our team down in the lab says that it’s 1st Order level. That anyone who drank it is a hound forever, unless given a specially concocted antidote.”
Carl and Higgins pale upon hearing the bad news. Higgins’s nostrils flare as he exhales heavily. His color turns red as he rises from his desk. He puts the bottle back into the bag, closes it, and removes the gloves, throwing them into the trash.
He closes his eyes and with clenched fists growls in a low voice, “Officers, I want to know who is ordering these ingredients, and I want to know, yesterday.”
The two officers scramble from his office. Higgins places his hands on his desk and leans on them. How could this vital information not get noticed? Why does it take him to ask these questions before anyone acts?
More hurried footsteps sound as they come closer to his office. Higgins waits until the person speaks before he turns around.
“Sir.” It’s Carl carrying a few more folders with him. “Someone already did find out where these potions were coming from, but . . .”
“But?” Higgins prods.
“But that person says dat da shop that they came from . . .” Carl shuffles his feet and then continues, “. . . is under da Order of Magic’s protection.”
Higgins whirls around, demanding, “WHAT?”
“Yes, it’s da little cafe right here in town,” Carl squeaks.
Higgins huffs pushing his huge belly outward. “Under whose authority was the cafe granted protection?” He turns and grumbles, “Right under my nose too.”
Keeping his eyes on the floor, Carl answers, “Agent Cornelius, from Special Investigations, gave da order.”
Higgins eyes flash wildly as he sputters, “What? What? What?”
“Yes, sir.” Carl coughs then adds, “Apparently anything dat deals with these three sisters is ta be sealed away. I was able ta retrieve only these files on da girls who own dat small cafe. Everything else is sealed.”
“How can this be?” Higgins asks, “Agent Cornelius has been missing for years.” He picks up the three manila folders and flips through them reading through the beat sheets of the three sisters.
He looks at the eldest sister, Agnes, who should now be 24, the main owner of the shop. A witch of the 3rd Order, cook and bullfighting enthusiast. He flips over to Ursa, the second eldest sister, now 19, another witch of the 3rd Order with her powers focused on healing, nurturing tendencies and a social butterfly. Finally he turns over to the last sister, the youngest, Helga who is now 15, yet another witch of the 3rd Order, brilliant potion maker and spell caster. In fine print he reads that she has the aptitude of a 1st Order witch but should be restricted to her current rank.
Higgins squints harder trying to decipher the additional notes that were blacked out, but he is interrupted by Officer Horn clearing his throat. He looks up to see the officer waiting for his next orders.
“Yes?”
Carl salutes him, stating, “Waiting for yer next order, sir.”
“Give me a moment.” Higgins waves him off and wanders to the window. He scratches his chin thinking about what to do and how to go about it delicately. If Agent Cornelius sealed their records then what is he to do?
He can’t just waltz on into the place without some ruse as to why he’s there. They might get suspicious. Clearly they are in cahoots with the TRUE society. He needs to be careful when he visits them.
Higgins snaps his fingers. “A-HA! I got it!”
“Sir?” Carl furrows his brow.
“Bring me any complaints lodged against that establishment,” Higgins orders hurriedly, “I can use those as my cover when I go visit this cafe.”
Carl rubs the back of his neck, inquiring, “Won’t those be sealed too, sir?”
“Just go get them, now,” Higgins demands.
Carl salutes Higgins again and leaves the office. It’s only a matter of time before Carl will be back so Higgins quickly gathers the things that he will need on his visit to the cafe. He snatches his briefcase from the side of the desk and shoves the three folders on the sisters in it.
Carl comes racing back, huffing and puffing, carrying a large stack of paper.
“You . . . were . . .” Carl manages between breaths, “ . . . right, . . . sir.”
He places the tall stack onto Higgins’s desk and then steps back. He pulls out his inhaler and takes a puff to regain control of his breathing.
Higgins’s eyes widen as he inspects the tall stack.
“How did these complaints go undetected for so long?” he asks, walking around his desk.
Carl shakes his head, offering, “Yer guess is as good as mine, sir, but I will say dat it might be Agent Cornelius’s doing . . .”
Higgins grumbles as his color goes a shade darker. Shaking his fist in the air, he pronounces, “By Jove, if I ever
meet with Agent Cornelius, I am going to throttle him. His meddling has caused the Order much strife.”
He shakes his head then with a double tap shrinks the paper down into a miniature pile that he picks up between his fingers and places into his open briefcase. He closes the lid and clasps its metal latches.
In agreement Carl nods. “True, sir. Also, if someone didn’t already open da files on those sisters, we wouldn’t even have da little information we do have fer this case.”
Higgins blinks as he turns his head towards Carl. “What?” he demands.
“Yes, sir,” Carl continues, “someone tried ta get into these girls’ files. Da name of dat person was scratched out, but these were da three files that got unsealed.”
Snatching his briefcase off of the desk and his coat along with his hat from the hook near the door, Higgins exits his office in a hurry.
Carl trails behind him, calling out, “Sir, do you want me ta come?”
Higgins stops, “No, but I do want you to be ready when I call. If I am not back in the next 24 hours, then please issue an all-Order alert to all the officers on duty to find me. I have to go investigate this cafe—and possibly save these girls.”
“Sir, what if they are members of da TRUE society?” Carl asks, “Wouldn’t you technically be walking into da lion’s den?”
Higgins drops his chin as his finger twirls the end of his bushy mustache. Lifting his head he stares back at his officer, repeating, “In 24 hours, come find me if I don’t return.”
3
The Warning
There it is, a tiny piece of paper sticking out from under the register. What’s that? Helga slowly and carefully pulls it out. She looks at it, squinting her eyes as she brings it up to the light. It’s crumpled but not faded.
Potion of the Hound: Mystical Mishaps Series Book 1 Page 3