Holding Court

by K. C. Held

  “Bree said we had to come see you because you’re like totally amazeballs or something,” Sidney says.

  “Yeah, like totally awesomesauce,” Whitney adds.

  “I see.”

  “So, what do you do, like read my palm or something?” Sidney asks.

  “Have a seat, fair maidens, and I will see what the spirits have to say.”

  Sidney and Whitney sit down, and I close my eyes and try to decide how much I’m going to mess with them.

  I open my eyes. “Which one of you is Sidney?” I ask.

  “Duh, Jules. You know I am,” Sidney says.

  “Who is this ‘Jules’ you speak of? I am the Maid of Kent. You may call me Sister Elizabeth, if you wish. The spirits have a message for Sidney, would you like to hear it?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  I give her a stern nunly look, and she shifts uncomfortably in her chair, then looks at Whitney, who shrugs.

  “Yes, please, Sister Elizabeth.”

  “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.”

  “It does? Oh my God! Does that mean I’m going to play Eliza Doolittle?”

  “Do a little or do a lot, it will come to naught.”

  “What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “My task is to pass on the messages from the spirits. It is up to you to decipher what they mean to you.”

  “Fine. What other visions do you have for me then?”

  “The spirits are finding it difficult to come through today.” I put my fingers to my veil. “Oh, wait. They have another message: you seek to be a lady fair, but Camille will be the fairest of them all.”

  “Camille? You mean Cami?”

  “Perhaps. Does this mean something to you?”

  “It should mean something to you, she’s your best friend.”

  “I have no friends. I am but a poor nun who has been blessed with the gift of visions.”

  “Fine. In your vision am I going to get the lead in My Fair Lady or what? And what about senior prom? I’m going to be queen, right?”

  I roll my eyes back in my head and mumble, “A sphincter says what?” in Pig Latin.

  “What? What did you say?” Sidney demands.

  “I told you she was a total freak,” Whitney whispers.

  “Hold on. I’m getting another vision.” I squeeze my eyes shut and press my fingers to my temples. “You are dressed in a silken gown that glows like firelight. And there is something on your head. Something shiny and round. A crown? No, it’s on your nose. It’s…it’s…it looks like…a giant pus-filled, plague-spreading bubo!” I open my eyes and smile serenely at Sidney.

  “What the hell is a bubo?” she asks.

  “I hope it’s not like mono,” Whitney says. “You’d think something called the kissing disease would be awesome but it’s so not.”

  “You’ve never heard of the bubonic plague?” I ask, then add, “Don’t worry, it’s probably just a giant zit. I’m sure they can Photoshop it out of your prom pictures.”

  “You know what?” Sidney says, standing up. “I think you’re full of crap, Jules Verity. I don’t know why Bree likes you so much. You’ve always been a freak, and you always will be. Come on, Whit. We’re out of here.”

  Sidney and Whitney storm out of the room, and I sit there trying not to giggle.

  Grayson pokes his head in and gives me a funny look. Then he starts laughing.

  “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” I say.

  “Are you kidding? That was ‘totally amazeballs.’”

  “I thought you were friends with Sidney.”

  “I tolerate her for Bree’s sake. But just because Bree’s capable of being friends with everyone she meets doesn’t mean I want to be. I don’t have her gift for seeing the good in everyone. And I definitely can’t see what she sees in Sidney Barlow.”

  “Oh, come on. Sidney’s totally up on the latest fashion trends, has perfectly manicured fingernails, and not a split end in sight. What more could you want?”

  “A lot. How about someone who’s unrelentingly honest, appealingly quirky, and a fan of the best movie ever?” Grayson takes a step toward me.

  “Those sound good,” I say, and my breath catches in my throat as he steps even closer.

  “Or how about someone who’s totally unaware of her own beauty?” Grayson says and his eyes drift to my lips. “Someone who likes to wear cherry-red lip gloss?”

  I reach a hand up to touch my lips. If I didn’t know that Grayson already had the most perfect girlfriend ever… But no. There’s no way Grayson could ever want me. Could he? He takes another step closer and we’re inches apart and I’m having very un-nunly thoughts when a tour group appears in the doorway behind Grayson. “Greetings lords and ladies!” I exclaim, sounding like an overzealous salesclerk.

  Grayson stiffens, then turns without a word to take up his post at the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  A Little Dungeon Recon

  I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed that there are no more moments alone with Grayson. My next private reading is pretty anticlimactic after the drama with Sidney. I talk to an elderly woman wearing a T-shirt that reads “Keep Calm and Weed On” about her garden for twenty minutes, and then it’s time to go to the minstrel gallery to prepare for my dinner performance.

  I spot a family wearing matching Disneyland shirts and decide to make some kind of premonition involving princesses and mice in red shorts, but when I enter the Great Hall and King Henry asks me if I have a message for someone present I blurt out, “Mermaids blush when clothes unmake the man!”

  “Blushing mermaids, how delightful,” King Henry responds, but he looks a little nervous. “And who, may I ask, is this message for?”

  “Um,” I look desperately around the Hall, “the spirits are very mysterious tonight. The message will be received by the one it is meant for.” I can already feel another blurt building.

  King Henry seems to sense my unease. “Thank you, Sister Elizabeth. Perhaps the spirits will be more—”

  “No amount of bathing will ever make him clean!” I shout, and then make for the back doors feeling like I’ve just let loose the equivalent of a psychic fart. I’m anxious to avoid letting another one escape, lest I say something else about naked men. Or unmade men, or whatever the hell I said.

  Grayson is waiting outside the doors to the Great Hall.

  “Blushing mermaids, eh? You know you’re going to get the ‘this is a family establishment’ lecture for the naked guy comment, right?”

  “I didn’t say anyone was naked! And don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical for a guy portraying a king who goes around beheading everyone to be concerned about offending people?”

  “Hey, I’m on your side, remember?”

  “Do you have any idea how horrible it is to yell things out without having the slightest idea what you’re going to say?”

  “Nope. But I can think of something that might be equally horrible.”

  “What?”

  “Searching a dungeon for a dead body?”

  “Fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

  I lead the way to the staircase that descends to the dungeon.

  “You sure you still want to do this?” Grayson asks, putting a hand on my arm.

  “No, but at least I know you’re not going to go into labor like Angelique.” I hand him the LED candle I borrowed from the Oratory. “After you.”

  “Just promise me Count Rugen isn’t down there waiting to hook me up to the Machine, okay?” Grayson says, and laughs nervously.

  “No Count Rugen, I promise. But I can’t say the same about torture devices.”

  “Or dead bodies?”

  “Or dead bodies.”

  Grayson gives my arm a squeeze, then flicks on the candle and starts down the stairs.

  I pull out my flashlight/stun gun and loop the cord around my wrist, then hit the flashlight button. We’re halfway down the steep winding staircase when i
t starts to sink in that I’m on a covert mission with Grayson Chandler to a dungeon in a castle where someone was probably strangled to death.

  This is so not how I thought I was going to be spending my summer.

  “You ready?” Grayson asks when we get to the bottom of the stairs.

  “I guess so.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s go find an iron maiden.”

  Grayson pulls up the heavy wooden bar and opens the door. “Is there a light switch in here, do you think?” he asks as we enter the dimly lit dungeon.

  We search the wall next to the door and I find a metal wall sconce like the one in the secret passageway. I twist the button and the room goes from dim to slightly less dim.

  “There’s another one over here,” Grayson says and turns on a second wall sconce.

  I click off my flashlight but keep my finger over the stun gun button just in case. I point to the large wooden cabinet on the far wall. “Inside the cabinet is the hidden entrance to the passageway. There’s a set of stairs that lead to the ground floor and the passageway behind the alcove in the main hallway.” We look around the room for obvious hiding places.

  “What’s that?” Grayson asks, pointing to the wood and iron statue in the corner.

  “That’s the Virgin of Nuremberg,” I say. “Angelique says it’s—”

  “Wait, did you say ‘virgin’?” Grayson asks.

  I nod.

  “As in, ‘the virgin hides the truth’?” He walks over to the statue.

  “You’re putting way too much faith in my blurts.”

  “There’s a plaque here that says it’s the Iron Maiden of Nuremberg.”

  “But no mention of virgins?”

  “Nope.”

  We both stare at the iron maiden.

  “It’s certainly big enough to hide a body,” I offer.

  “True. Okay. So. We should probably open it, right?”

  “Yeah. But only if we want to see what’s inside.”

  Grayson reaches out and grabs the iron handle next to the studded strip of iron that looks almost like a row of buttons running down the center of the maiden’s dress.

  “Here goes nothing,” he says.

  “I’m sure the police have already looked in here,” I say.

  He pulls the handle, and the right half of the maiden’s dress swings open with an ominous creaking noise. And Floyd Bean lurches out at me.

  In a panic I bring my stun gun up and hit the juice. Floyd’s body jerks violently as we both fall to the ground. He lands on top of me, pinning my stun gun arm between us. I scream and push at him with my free hand but he’s like a dead weight on top of me. And then Grayson grabs him and I kick at Floyd with all my might as Grayson rolls him off of me.

  “Jules, stop. He’s dead.”

  I freeze and look up at Grayson. “What?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s dead. Look at him.”

  I sit up and look at Floyd. And see the jeweled dagger sticking out of his chest.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God, Grayson. He’s been stabbed.”

  Grayson kneels down and puts his fingers on Floyd’s throat where his pulse should be.

  “Yeah, he’s dead. We need to call the police.”

  “I’m not leaving him,” I say.

  “What?”

  “I’m not leaving him. I’m not taking a chance on him disappearing like Sarah did.”

  “Jules, we have to go get help. And there’s no way I’m leaving you down here by yourself. He’s not going to disappear. And even if he did, I can vouch for the fact that he was here.”

  I look back at Floyd. There are drops of red spilling from the front of his uniform, and at first I think I’m looking at blood. I scooch closer for a better look. “Grayson, look.” I point to what I now realize are jewels spilling out of his pocket. I reach into the pocket and pull out a handful of rubies and pearls.

  “What the hell?” Grayson says. “Are those real?”

  “I don’t know. If they are, they could be the jewels Sarah stole.”

  “Yeah, but what does that mean? Floyd killed her for the jewels?”

  “Or maybe he was her accomplice?”

  “My money was on Mike the Knight, but what’s Floyd doing with all those jewels? And if he’s her accomplice, who killed him?”

  “Whoever killed him used a jeweled dagger,” I point out. “It can’t possibly be a coincidence that Mike asked me if Sarah had a jeweled dagger, can it? But if Sarah had the dagger… I have no idea what that means.”

  We both stare at Floyd. His face looks worn, his cheeks sunken and creased with age. It’s hard to picture him as a murderer. Creepy? Yes. But murderer? Not so much.

  “Are you sure Sarah was dead?” Grayson asks, and I feel a shiver run through me.

  “You think she killed him?”

  “I don’t know. This is all way out of my league.”

  “She was dead, Grayson. I’m sure of it.”

  “We need to call the police,” Grayson says again. He holds out a hand to help me up, and then we both stand there looking down at Floyd. “You know what’s weird? I could swear I saw him move. It was like he jumped on top of you. There’s no way he was still alive, is there?”

  I hold up my lipstick stun gun. “I zapped him.”

  “You what? I thought that was a flashlight.”

  “It is.” I push the flashlight button and then the button for the stun gun. A blue spark crackles between the two points on the tip of the faux lipstick canister. “It’s also a stun gun. Gran made me promise to carry it at all times. And I thought Floyd was attacking me,” I explain, “so I zapped him.”

  “Understandable. Remind me never to mess with you, okay?”

  An hour later the police are processing the crime scene and I’m sitting in Hank’s study waiting to be “debriefed.” Grayson has been taken to an adjoining room and, I assume, awaits a similar fate.

  There’s a brief knock at the door and Officer Kilbride strolls in. “Miss Verity, we meet again,” he says and sits down next to me on the couch. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

  “The body’s still there, right? You saw it?”

  “The body is still there. The coroner is getting ready to take it away, but if the body somehow manages to disappear en route we have photographic proof that it existed and that Mr. Bean was, indeed, dead.”

  I can’t help it, I let loose a sigh of relief.

  Officer Kilbride takes out his notebook. “Why don’t you tell me what happened this time?”

  “Sure. We were looking for Sarah’s body in the dungeon and we found Floyd instead.”

  “I see. And how did you know where to look?”

  “I didn’t. It was a guess. I was trying to figure out what happened to Sarah after I found her and she disappeared. Where someone could have taken her body. It just didn’t make sense. And it didn’t seem like you guys were looking all that hard for her. Floyd knew the castle better than anyone so I asked him where he would have hidden Sarah.”

  “And what did he tell you, Miss Verity? Did he give you a location where he thought the body might be?”

  “Yes. Two, actually. One was upstairs in Mr. Bacon’s private rooms, so I obviously couldn’t go there.”

  “And the other?”

  “Was the iron maiden. I had no idea what he was talking about but I knew whatever it was was in the dungeon, and I’d promised not to go in the secret passageway but as far as I knew the dungeon wasn’t off-limits, so Grayson and I decided to see if we could find the iron maiden.”

  “Grayson Chandler? Your high school classmate?”

  “Yes. Hank temporarily appointed him as my personal squire-slash-bodyguard.”

  “I see. So, Floyd told you the iron maiden would be a good place to hide a body and hours later he turns up, dead, inside it?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Grayson pulled open her dress and Floyd came tumbling out.”

  “I see. That must have been quite a surp
rise.”

  “Yeah. It was. I should probably mention that I zapped him.”

  “You what?”

  I pull my lipstick stun gun out of my pocket and offer it to Officer Kilbride. “It’s a stun gun. Gran made me promise to carry it with me at all times. I have a note from her saying I have permission. It’s in my cubby if you want to see it.”

  Officer Kilbride flips the cap off and examines the stun gun. “Our ME might need to take a look at this, but for now I suggest you follow your Gran’s advice. You seem to have a habit of stumbling over dead bodies, Miss Verity.”

  “It’s really not my favorite thing. But at least Floyd’s didn’t disappear.”

  “That brings up an interesting point, Miss Verity. You’re the only one who’s seen Sarah Buckley dead.”

  “Uh, no. I’m pretty sure whoever killed her and moved her body saw her, too.”

  “What I’m saying, Miss Verity, is that we only have your assumption that Sarah Buckley is dead. And now we have the body of someone who, based on the preliminary evidence found on his person, would appear to have been involved in Miss Buckley’s larceny scheme, but still no Miss Buckley. Has it occurred to you that Sarah Buckley might be the person responsible for Floyd’s death?”

  “Yeah, except for the fact that that’s impossible. Because she’s dead.”

  “Shall we discuss Officer Lasky’s theory then? If Sarah Buckley isn’t the killer, guess who the second most likely suspect is? Someone who knows about the secret passageways and the best places to hide a body.” He raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Mike the Knight?” I say, hopefully.

  “Who’s Mike the Knight?”

  “I forgot to tell you about him. He’s a friend of Sarah’s. They’re in the same Renaissance guild. Anyway, he heard me asking about Sarah and wanted to know if I’d seen her and if she’d been carrying any weapons, specifically a jeweled dagger.”

  “I see. And why didn’t you mention this before?”