“Unusual is the insane quantities of herbal hangover medicine we’ve dispensed since the start of the Mabon Fair,” Millie countered. “So I’d just call this one ‘strange.’”
“Look, whatever you call it,” I said before the discussion careened too far off course. “What’s going on, Middie?”
“Gloom kicked me out of the room,” Midnight explained. “She said she was trying to sleep and that my snoring woke her up.” Midnight yawned and scratched behind his ear. “Thing is, it was her own snoring that was waking her,” he said.
“She did wh--” Carbon asked from his place by the fire.
Midnight held up a paw. “Shsh. Listen.”
We stopped talking and listened. Yep, Gloom was sawing some pretty big logs up there.
Getting back to the conversation about our foray into Mag Mell, I asked my wise cat:
“How would you advise us to decipher Ankou’s riddling-rhymes, Professor Onyx?”
Onyx hummed. “Fae riddles take some time to figure out, no question. However, given that Ankou gave his answers rather freely, I am inclined to believe that, whatever the ultimate meaning behind his words, he was speaking the truth.”
“Sure,” Millie concurred. “He’s the Autumn King of the Unseelie Court talking to the badass witch who’s three runes into solving the Great Challenge. If he is a magical man, which he is, btw, he probably respects you too much to feed you a line.” Millie’s painted nails drummed the counter for a second. “Not like that little rat of a leprechaun, Seamus.” My assistant’s eyes narrowed as she pondered the mischievous visit we had from Seamus, not more than a month ago. Leprechauns are slippery customers, to say the least.
Midnight opened his mouth to say something when the shop doorbell rang. The kitties quickly vacated their various perches. I’d told them that I wanted to make a good impression on our customers, and, bless their hearts they were keeping to their word of being discreet.
It was David who walked through the door. He caught the tail end of the kitty scramble and shook his head smiling.
“Everything, okay, David?” I asked. He looked distracted. But that seemed to be a permanent feature with him these days. David nodded.
“I was just going over the notes on our interview with Infirma.”
“I’ll put the kettle on," Millie offered. "Verdantia dropped off some fresh rosehips, so I’d may as well brew some up.” My assistant shook her peacock-blue hair and strutted like one to the kitchen.
“What’s on your mind, Chief Para Inspector?” I patted the chair by the fire and watched as Carbon resumed his place in front of it. The cats had no need to hide from my friend.
“I keep coming back to that mysterious ‘it’ that Morag wanted to hide after that phone call from Shields,” David said, drumming the arm of the chair with restless fingers. “Whatever ‘it’ is, I’m wondering if it might have been important enough to kill for.”
“You mean enough motive to silence Morag? It definitely sounds plausible,” I agreed. “But where do we even begin looking for this ‘thing?’”
My friend’s fingers beat vigorously at the chair arm. What is making him so antsy?
I glanced at his hands, and I noticed one of his fingernails looked discolored. Blackened, almost. And the outline didn’t seem to match his other nails -- there was something misshapen about it too. It wasn’t like David not to take care of his grooming. I know he’d been busy and under a lot of pressure from Talisman, what with all these murders. But, still. I didn’t like the idea of my friend not looking after his cleanliness. My eyes wandered to his hair. His tresses looked clean; no greasy strands in sight. Just that rather dashing white flash of shocked hair that he’d picked up a couple of months ago.
So, he just forgot to take a nail brush and a nail clipper to his nails. You’ve got bigger fish to fry, girl.
“Well,” CPI Trew said as he stood. “We know from Reverend Peacefield that she was poking around the Avalon Vaults. We also know that Portia was arguing with Morag in the church above the same vaults. We don’t know the reason for that yet, but I’d suggest that’s where we should start. The Vaults, I mean.”
Millie brought the tea out, putting the pot and three cups down on a tray at the end of the counter. I admired her confidence. My inquisitive cats liked nothing more than to push stuff over the edges of things.
I turned to the chief. “One thing I’m concerned about is getting Reverend Peacefield any more involved than he already is. I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s too much of a good soul to be dragged into the dark well of a murder case.” Privately, I suspected that old Thaddeus Peacefield would thank the Goddess profusely if he managed to find an ‘in’ on a murder investigation. I chuckled inwardly, picturing our vicar chasing leads and questioning suspects like our beloved TV Father Brown.
“ Yeah, I’ve thought of that. I say we don’t involve him. We’re going to execute a tidy little break-in tonight when the vicar is sleeping.” David stated matter-of-factly.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Millie said, waving her hands. “All I know about police procedure comes from Mainland TV and books. But don’t you guys need a warrant to obtain evidence that you can use later?”
David’s smile looked pained. “Indeed we do, Millie. That’s why I obtained a ‘no-knock’ warrant from Talisman this morning. We have permission to search the Avalon Vaults at my discretion. It was the only way I could see us doing this without further implicating the good reverend. As we know, his flock needs him.”
“Wow, look at Supercop here,” Shade said from under the counter. “Ms. Poof tells me that that kind of warrant usually takes a month to obtain if you can get ‘em at all.”
Shade’s squeeze would know. Ms. Poof’s human was a clerk in the mayor, Sincerity Jones office and thus had a working knowledge of our local legal system.
“All I know is what the Ministry of the Interior told me when they gave me the warrant this morning,” David said, shrugging. “Due to the possibility of unknown magical artifacts or books being onsite as well as the more well-known relics housed there being subject to theft, they want someone to check out the Vaults with all speed.”
Carbon stirred from his spot by the fire. “Sounds to me as if the Custodians, or, rather the might of Portia Fearwyn might have lit that fire under the Ministry. I mean, you know how lady Fearwyn is so adept at pulling strings in Talisman.” Carbon clicked his paw to the floor, and a whooshing sound rumbled from the fireplace. It was about to get hot in here.
“It’s possible,” David conceded. “This would be the sort of thing that—“
The shop door opened again, letting in Phil DeGrasse, Gless Inlet’s retired news anchor. His orange spray tan always provoked the cats. Especially Fraidy. Carbon hissed at his tangerine colored jaunty face. Phil had been having stomach issues much like David’s. I already had his antacid's ready, so hopefully, this transaction wouldn’t take too long, because I could already hear that thick whining growl sound coming from under the counter.
David squeezed my arm discretely. See you at St Pen’s? Midnight?”
“You want me to bring him?” I asked surprised. The chief rarely requested my cats be in tow. Even though at least one of them always was.
“No, silly. See you AT Midnight.” My friend offered a wan smile, gave a forced greeting to Phil as he passed him, and walked out the door.
“Dude, that’s so cool. I never tire of it. Do it again.” Midnight and Shade were trotting behind me as we approached the woods at the base of the hill that Saint Pendragon’s church sat on. Shade was turning his eyes on and off, entertaining his brother. One second Shade would be little more than a black outline with golden eyes, and then he’d turn those golden orbs as black as his fur and blend in with the night. He was rocking Midnight’s world right now because the latter was rolling on the sidewalk laughing. “Man, seriously, that’s awesome,” he croaked, holding his belly.
“Guys,”
“Sorry, boss,” my kittie
s said in unison, and picking up the pace they trotted ahead of me.
We walked quickly through the woods and started ascending the hill toward the crowning glory of St Pen’s. David was waiting for us near the top.
Saint Pendragon’s was a modest cathedral, built in the medieval style. As modest as it was, it all but swallowed the hilltop. A forest of spires rose from its gabled roof, and slender stained glass windows cast colorful glances down the hill itself. The building was hewn from a slate gray stone that was embedded with tiny flecks of quartz. It added to the overall ambience of the edifice. Two ancient oak doors stood like silent sentinels at the front of the cathedral. They were at least twice the height of David, appearing almost as large as the Troll Doors at Ankou’s Autumn temple on Mag Mell.
The story goes that it had taken one hundred and twenty years to construct St. Pen’s. It was more than just the usual church and administrative bureaucracy that held up construction, however. The first and original architect, Mythos Knave, had been given a warning from a soothsayer that peace on the Coven Isles would be maintained for as long as the church was being built. There may have been something to that. One year after construction was complete, the Warlock Wars broke out. It was at this time, during war, that the Avalon Vaults became one of the most secure repository’s in the world.
“We’re sure about the vicar’s sleeping schedule?” I asked as we met with David. I felt a knot of guilt from our planned escapade.
“Oh, it’s hardly a secret,” Midnight advised. “Everybody knows that Peacefield hasn’t changed his routine in over thirty years…always in bed by 10 PM. My little info network says you can practically set your watch by his bedtime.”
David nodded but sighed unhappily. “I have to admit that I have qualms about this. It’s not that I’m particularly religious. It’s just…”
I grabbed David’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He looked at me and smiled. He even gave my hand a squeeze back. For just a moment, I felt like all was right with the world. Then Shade opened his mouth.
“Yo, I hate being the raincloud on the parade,” he said. “But we kind of need to remember that this place has got some mad protection wards to keep out folks like us.”
Midnight meowed at his brother in disappointment. “None of which is any defense against the Flip Charm. So why don’t we go ahead and get those doors open, brother?”
“No need, guys,” David said, pulling out a dull, pewter looking key. We looked at the chief, our mouths hanging open. CPI Trew chuckled. “I’m telling you, Talisman pulled out all the stops on this one,” he said, moving toward the door.
“This is great,” Shade quipped. “We’ll probably get this done in a few minutes. Which is good, because I have a lady friend waiting on some midnight lovin'.” Shade gave his cheesiest grin, his teeth spilling out over his stretched lips.
“Yeah, we don’t need to hear about how you service Ms. Poof, dude,” Midnight had his paws to his ears in mock horror.
Before inserting the skeleton key into the lock, David turned to me.
“Hat…I realize the timing on this could have been better. But…”
“What is it, David?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting,” he admitted. “The last few days…something has just felt off.”
“Well, you did have some serious stomach trouble.”
David shook his head with a frown. “It’s more than just that…there’s been—“
“Psst. Humans!” Midnight hissed. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
As soon as we crossed the threshold of the church, the doors silently closed themselves behind us. It made me jump a little, and I was thankful Fraidy wasn’t here for this one.
“It all good, boss lady,” Shade whispered in reassurance. I nodded at my handsome kitty and he and Midnight trotted off, sniffing between the pews, and in the naves. David and I followed cautiously. The reverend may turn in at 10 PM but nobody ever mentioned how sound a sleeper he was.
The altar was an elaborate affair; dominated by the golden Celtic knot at its center. Holly twigs adorned the rest of the sheer-white marble, along with various Pagan symbols that were used for some of the church’s worship rituals. I tensed, holding a hand up to David. A faint clicking noise coming from behind the alter. My mouth went dry. David, moving slowly, flanked the aisle on the right, signalling for me to take the other side at the same time. I took my friend’s orders and tiptoed on shaky legs to the right side of the altar. Shade was there, tapping his paw on a flagstone section of the floor. The sound wasn’t quite right. It sounded hollow. Shade looked up at us, grinning.
“Hidden trapdoor,” I said, crouching down.
“Not so hidden. Touch it.” Shade urged.
I patted the flagstone gently, and the illusion of solid rock dissipated almost immediately, revealing the door in question. I gave it a tug. Not the slightest bit of movement. I had a feeling this wouldn’t be easy entry.
“So how do we get it to open?” David asked as he crouched beside me.
“Beats me,” I said, feeling along the edges of the secret trap-door.
David and Shade looked on with focused attention. Midnight padded over and promptly sprawled his whole body out on top of the hidden door as I was trying to find the opening. I stared at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m lying down, rolling about and being cute, why?” Midnight asked, genuinely perplexed at my line of questioning.
“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”
“Sure, I can,” he chirped, exposing more of his fluffy tummy as he rolled and stretched.
“Midnight!” I threatened..
“Easy, Hat. I think your cat is just being a … cat. Maybe he just thought you were reading a newspaper or something.” David suggested.
“Woah, chief, you got me!” Midnight was delighted at David’s acuity. “I TOTALLY thought boss-lady was reading a newspaper. Books and newspapers make the best makeshift beds!”
“Only when they’re being read though, bro,” Shade proffered. “A book ain’t so comfy if it’s not being read at the time of lying on it, you dig, right?”
“True dat, brother,” Midnight agreed.
My fingers touched on something hard and metallic.
The door sprang open, catapulting my languishing kitty high over the altar toward the central aisle of the church. We watched in mute amazement as my cat sailed skyward. Shade fell to the floor by the newly opened door, and rolled around in breathless hysterics.
Midnight landed on all four feet. The look of surprise on his face, was pretty funny, I’ll admit. He trotted toward us, shaking his head, while Shade still rolled around on the floor clutching his stomach in a futile effort to slow his laughter. It was then I thought I saw a flash of movement from a row of pews toward the back of the chapel. I squinted into the blackness. Shadows playing tricks, nothing more. Still, I felt nervous.
“Well, as Midnight said earlier, let’s get this show on the road,” David exhaled and dropped down into the hole in the floor. I patted my shoulders, and the kitties hopped on, and we followed my friend down into St Pen’s hidden recesses.
We descended a short and very rickety ladder into a musty smelling chamber. My hands brushed against the walls trying to find illumination. My finger found a light switch and I flipped it, making sure the door above us was closed, so it wouldn’t cast out any telltale light.
Instead of regular bulbs an army of flame torches lit the room, revealing a treasure store of ancient books, strange alchemical apparatus, and all manner of relics, some showcased in glass containers. I wandered over to one of the glass cases to look over its contents. David and the cats moved further into the room. I heard a squeak of old hinges, and a draft moved my hair ever so slightly.
“Guys! Don’t touch anything! I cautioned, thinking that one of my nosy cats had opened something
they shouldn’t have.
Movement from the corner of my eye again, and as I turned, an inky black shadow fell over me. I grabbed the case for support as my legs nearly gave way. I fumbled for my wand, hoping it might offer me some protection, but the pool of shadow was upon me then. Gripping my arm in an icy, deathly grip. I think I just peed my pants a little, and drooled, but I can’t be sure. The shadow’s features came into view, at last, and I was standing face to face with Portia Fearwyn.
“Por--”
A manly arm shot from behind the old witch, and, before realizing who it was, David wrangled Portia Fearwyn into a rather ungainly headlock.
“You idiot,” she croaked, as David applied pressure against who he thought was my assailant’s windpipe.
“P-Portia?” He queried, letting the witch go almost immediately. “What are you doing here, for Goddess’ sake?”
“Who do you think signed for the no-knock warrant, Chief Para Inspector?” Portia spat, rubbing her throat.
“So you’re here for the same reason we are,” I deduced. “To see what Morag may have hid down here.”
Portia frowned. “I am not saying that you are incorrect, Hattie. But what would have led you to believe that—“
“Your argument with Morag in the church upstairs. It could have been about anything but given that she was seen later poking around in these vaults…” I gave the Witch Fearwyn a sheepish grin.
Portia nodded and glanced around the vault “Let us just say, for the time being, that we had a serious disagreement regarding that object’s safety and that, despite my probing, I still have no idea what she wanted to hide.”
“But you think it’s here,” David said.
“Possibly. I had planned to use my Ombra enchantment to quietly slide down here through the door cracks. I wasn’t expecting to meet you at the same time.”
“And, can you tell us exactly what ‘it’ is?” David pushed.
“No. I cannot.” Her words offered no bargaining chip.
The Chimera Charm Page 9