by Laurence Yep
The mongoose pleaded with Winnie. “Nanu Nakula knows what a kind master you are now. There will be no more tricks. Have faith in me.”
“Blow the whistle,” I told Winnie.
Winnie cupped both hands defensively around the mongoose. “Everybody deserves a second chance.”
I blinked because that’s exactly what Caleb said about his charity cases. Of course, none of them could have caused the mischief that this pest could.
I had hoped that meeting Caleb would show Winnie that she could model herself after her kind, courageous great-grandfather rather than her ruthless grandfather Jarvis. So I could hardly complain now if she was demonstrating as tender a heart as Caleb’s.
Besides, I was relieved to learn that the mongoose was behind the break-in and the pranks because it meant no real adversary could penetrate my safeguards or eavesdrop on us.
The real threat wasn’t a practical joker like the mongoose but a possible villain who had tried to strand Winnie in the past. The lost badge might have been an accident, and it might have been a coincidence that the woman who had shouted “t’ief ” had come from Romania, Lady Luminita’s homeland—there were fairgoers from around the world after all.
But if some ruthless enemy had tried to strand Winnie in the past, he or she had to be stopped before they could strike again.
So I warned the mongoose in Sanskrit, “Thy master trusts thee, though I know not why. Betray that trust, and I will cause thy fur to fly away like wheat chaff in the wind. And I tell thee, Nanu Nakula, that a bald mongoose is far uglier than a plucked chicken.”
He was as slippery with words as he would have been fighting against a cobra. “He will try to recall thy warning, but…,” he said, rapping his paw on his skull, “his little head can only hold a few memories.”
I pointed a claw at him like a judge sentencing a prisoner. “If thy tiny brain remembers one thing, it must be this: Grief will befall all who cause grief to Winnie.”
“What did you say to him?” Winnie demanded suspiciously. “Are you picking on him?”
Since I was trying to protect her, that seemed singularly ungrateful, especially when the mongoose popped up from behind her fingers and smirked at me. “You heard Nanu Nakula’s master.”
Right then and there, I should have insisted that Winnie transform the mongoose once more into an expensive but harmless trinket. But I didn’t consider him as much of a threat as those troublemaking enemies.
I couldn’t help wondering if I was making a big mistake. A trickster mongoose loaded with wishes could be more dangerous than a pistol loaded with bullets.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Get your wish right the first time. You may not get a do-over.
MISS DRAKE
After I’d seen Winnie safely at school—Rowan again escorted her—I texted Reynard to see if he had learned anything more about Lady Luminita.
No big deposits in hr bank account. Give me list of yr enemies. Will compare names on yr list to hr recent phone calls & emails.
I started tapping possibilities on my phone…and tapping…and tapping. When I finally finished, he wrote:
Is that every 1?
Those r just local ones. Complete list will take longer. Much longer.
“So many enemies. Nanu Nakula is impressed.” The mongoose was eating the last of my imported coral crackers with the wasabi flavoring. “But maybe next time you should try counting to ten before you lose your temper.”
I counted to ten twice before I warned him, “I just did—and it’s not working. That was my morning snack.”
“Mine too, mine too,” he said cheerfully as he brushed the crumbs from his fur. “Have you got any more?”
One bite, I thought. One bite and I can make him disappear. But what would that teach Winnie?
The mongoose saw me grinding my teeth. I suppose he’d become an expert on how far he could pester someone. “Nana Nakula is Helpful. You need him.”
“For what?” I sniffed. “I want to stop whoever’s threatening Winnie, not rob their house.”
“Nanu Nakula can find your enemy. He knows all about feuds,” he boasted. “After all, he has started enough of them.”
I imagine he had after one rich lady saw another wearing the jewels he had stolen. “Do you ever feel sorry for the misery you’ve caused?”
He swiped a paw around the plate, trying to pick up any crumbs. “Nanu Nakula does not make the wish. He merely fulfills it. You do not blame a knife when it cuts you instead of your steak, do you?”
I’d seen enough of this pest to know he wasn’t blameless. “No doubt you’re an expert at nudging your master into making a wish that would do the maximum harm.”
He scratched his belly lazily. “Is it Nanu Nakula’s fault that his masters always ask for more than they can handle?”
“Humans live such short lives that they have to stretch for things way beyond their grasp,” I corrected him. “It’s ridiculous, but it’s also what makes them human. And yes, it often leads them into the silliest messes, but sometimes…sometimes they achieve the most glorious things.”
It’s why I love humans. For all our noble virtues, dragons have such strength and power and live such long lives that everything is in our reach, and no ambition is too outrageous. And so we dragons do not need to dream like humans: we make our thousand-year plans instead.
He sat upon the plate. “How lucky you are. Nanu Nakula only seems to encounter the greedy sort of human.”
“Winnie wished for world peace,” I countered. “What’s greedy about that?”
He folded his legs. “She is young yet.”
“She will surprise you,” I predicted. She certainly had already amazed me—most of the time in a good way.
Before he could reply, Reynard began typing again:
I will begin checking your local enemies. But mayb faster 2 search lady’s house 4 evidence. Can u get hr out of hr house 2night?
I reminded Reynard:
She is werewolf.
No problem. Wil bring doggy treats.
Reynard was quite the fearless fellow when he wasn’t infatuated with movie celebrities, and I blessed my stars that he was my friend. I answered:
Wil try 2 set up something.
Then I called Willamar. “I know who stole the Heart of Kubera.”
“Who?! How?!” Willamar asked, too excited to be his usual formal self.
“All will soon be revealed,” I said coyly. “Can you call a special meeting for tonight at seven and make sure the whole club is there?”
“You couldn’t keep them away with an army, especially Lady Luminita,” he assured me, and hung up to begin contacting the other members.
After informing Reynard that I’d arranged for Lady Luminita to be at a meeting at seven, I turned to the mongoose. “Do you mean it when you say you want to be Helpful?”
The mongoose bounced up and down. “Of course, of course.”
I looked at him sternly. “Then it’s very important you do exactly what your master asks because she’s in great danger,” I explained.
His paw instinctively scratched his neck. “From the werewolf?”
“Yes,” I said. “She will be there along with a lot of other people who will ask you a lot of questions. It’s vital to keep them talking to you as long as you can and not pull any tricks.”
“Nanu Nakula can do that.” He leaned forward as if about to run a race. “But I can also search the werewolf’s house right now, and she will never notice.”
“I can’t tell you what to look for, though,” I said, “so we’ll stick to my original plan. Will you behave for Winnie’s sake?”
“Of course. She is Nanu Nakula’s master,” the mongoose promised.
He seemed sincere enough, but even if he didn’t cooperate, I would be at the meeting too and would give Reynard the time he needed. Reynard had a keen fox’s nose for anything that looked or smelled fishy.
—
That afternoon after s
chool, Rowan was waiting outside for Winnie. Smirking to one another, Winnie’s friends made a point of saying loud good-byes to both her and Rowan and then giggled as they walked away. Their reactions definitely did not help her mood.
I hadn’t realized Winnie’s face could turn such an interesting shade of red. I think she would have hit Rowan with her book bag but didn’t want to make even more of a scene. Instead, she stamped off toward home.
With his odd bouncing stride, he easily caught up with her. “How did school go today?”
Winnie didn’t answer but looked straight ahead. She had too many bad experiences in past schools, with people trying to befriend her only to betray her. As a Shielder, Rowan could do that anytime.
He seemed determined to strike up a conversation. “We get a lot of homework. What about you?”
Without turning her head, she said, “You don’t get much practice with small talk, do you?”
He blinked, his eyes a dusky green as he stared at the odd fingers of his hands and then stuffed them in his pockets. “There aren’t many people I want to speak to,” he said awkwardly.
Among adult magicals in San Francisco, it has become a rule of etiquette that we don’t publicly comment on one another’s appearance. After all, to a griffin anyone without wings and a beak would seem odd.
But it’s a rule magicals learn the hard way while they grow up and are hurt and hurt in turn. When magicals are young, they are as likely to make fun of anyone different just as young normals would.
Rowan with his odd hands and walk had probably had his share of insults. He might have developed his air of aloofness as a kind of shield to keep people away from him. I wasn’t sure why he wanted to drop that shield with Winnie, but I had my suspicions. Unfortunately, he had such little practice chatting with someone, so he was clumsy at it.
Rowan’s gnarly fingers and his mysterious eyes, ever-changing like the sea, intrigued me. I had a hunch that Rowan’s history began with my friend Gilbert’s sadness and loneliness after his son died. Had the wizard created the figure of a boy who resembled his son from things around his beach hideaway—driftwood and sea glass? Had he somehow brought his creation to life? But how had his sea boy become human, like Pinocchio? No matter, it was Rowan’s story, and he would have to tell us if and when he chose. Until then, I might buy the boy some shin guards.
He kept up the one-sided conversation all the way to the foot of our driveway, where he stopped. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said. Apparently, he’d received the same message as the club members about the special meeting tonight.
Winnie ignored him as she nodded to Paradise, who was raking some dead leaves. She dipped her head to Winnie respectfully and then, as I instructed her earlier, called to Rowan. “Mr. Rowan, would you like a cup of tea with the lady of the house?”
Winnie whirled around. “Mother’s not home yet.”
“The other lady of the house,” Paradise explained.
“He’s not…,” Winnie started to say.
At that moment, Vasilisa opened the front door. “Tea will be ready in a few minutes,” she announced. “Won’t you come in, Mr. Rowan?”
Winnie looked shocked at her friends’ betrayal, and I left them to handle her while I circled around to my apartments. Once again a respectable size, I made my way upstairs and could smell the tea brewing in a pot.
I found Winnie in an easy chair as she glowered at Rowan. Poor boy. He was sitting on the sofa staring at the bay rather than his host.
He didn’t seem surprised or frightened to see my true form. Instead, he pointed a twisted finger. “What’s that funny spot on your scales?”
There was nothing wrong with his eyes, now emerald green. “It’s where I keep my phone,” I said, curling up in a chair.
“It could be a weak spot for a bullet,” he said.
He had no idea what topics were unsuitable for polite discussion. “No, the real scale is behind the pocket,” I said.
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Smart.”
Winnie couldn’t hold her anger in anymore as she turned to me accusingly. “What’s the idea of letting him in our house?”
“Because I wanted to ask for his help again,” I said to her, and then faced Rowan. “Did your aunt tell you there was a special meeting of the club tonight?” Even though I knew the answer, I had to ask, or Winnie might have suspected I’d been following her.
“Yes, she received the message this afternoon and passed it on to me,” he said. “So you’ve solved the theft?”
Winnie couldn’t resist gloating. “And found the thief.”
“Who was it?” Rowan asked.
I held up a claw. “I’m pretty sure you’ll meet him soon.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. “He’s still alive?”
“Patience,” I instructed him.
A moment later, Vasilisa came in with a tray bearing everything we would need for afternoon tea—frosted cakes, berried scones, and little crustless sandwiches.
No sooner had she set everything down than there was a tan streak and the mongoose was on the table, then on the tray itself. He started to reach for a sandwich but caught sight of a scone as large as himself. He leapt to reach for that when he saw one of Vasilisa’s special cookies, but before he could take it, he saw a macaroon that tempted him.
He rubbed his head with both paws in frustration. “Decisions, decisions,” he muttered.
Vasilisa picked him up by the back of his neck. “We talked about this already. Guests get served first.”
I’m not sure what had happened between them, but when Small Doll rustled in the pocket of Vasilisa’s apron, Nanu Nakula grew still and didn’t try to protest.
“Yes, yes, guests get served first.” He couldn’t resist adding with a warning look at Rowan. “Even if they look greedy.”
Rowan pointed at the mongoose. “Is that your pet?” he asked Winnie.
Almost at the same time, the mongoose jabbed a claw at Rowan and asked Winnie. “Is he your beau? Your boyfriend?”
“No!” Winnie answered both emphatically.
For a while, all three were silent as they ate. When they had done justice to Vasilisa’s offerings, I cleared my throat. “Rowan, I invited you to tea because I’d like to report to you in your official capacity as a Shielder.” Though we had solved one mystery, I explained our suspicions about Lady Luminita working for one of my enemies to harm Winnie. “I want to ask the Council not to arrest her until I learn who planned this all. I hope to have evidence soon.”
This was all news to Winnie, too, of course. “What will you do if Sir Isaac’s recordings show Lady Luminita stayed at the ball?” she asked. “I mean, I know he was concentrating on Lady Gravelston, but maybe he caught Lady Luminita in the background.”
“Then that will reduce the suspects by one,” I said, “and I will simply start the hunt again.”
“If there is a conspiracy against you, it could have changed time itself.” Rowan nodded. “I’m sure the Council will want to find the real culprit as much as you do.”
“And who’s pulling his or her strings,” Winnie added.
Rowan glared at her. “There are more polite ways of saying that.”
“What’s this thing you got against puppets?” Winnie asked.
“Nothing,” he said in a firm, flat voice that I suspected he hoped would end her questioning.
Hmmmm. Perhaps it wasn’t puppets that made him uncomfortable so much as a puppet maker like Geppetto, but again, this wasn’t the time to raise the subject—if ever. “So will you pass this information on to your superiors?”
“Of course,” Rowan said.
—
Winnie and I were ready by 6:40 p.m. I was in my human disguise, but both Winnie and I wore modern clothes this time. The pest was riding in the pocket of her blouse, and the both of them were looking far too comfortable with the arrangement.
“Do you have the whistle?” I whispered.
“Got it.” She pointed
to the pocket, where it sat next to the mongoose. When we stepped outside, we found Rowan standing alert by the front door.
“You again?” Winnie asked, annoyed.
Rowan shrugged. “I’ve spoken to the Council, and it’s ordered me to accompany you. Also, there will be two gold Shielders dressed as servants at the meeting.”
I motioned to the cab by the curb. “And here’s our taxi. Excellent timing.” But when we reached the sidewalk, Nanu Nakula began to rock frantically in Winnie’s pocket, and his fur began to bristle. “Something is wrong. So wrong.”
Then Winnie whispered, so the others wouldn’t hear, “My ring…it’s flashing red.”
I didn’t sense anything myself, but it was better to be safe than sorry. So I put my arm out to block Winnie and noticed Rowan had also slipped in front of her.
The woman cabby tapped the steering wheel impatiently. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day,” she said to me, but her eyes were focused on Winnie.
“It must be very busy for you,” I said as I studied her. From the waist up, she seemed normal enough, blond hair pulled away from her face, purple sweatshirt with Williams College stenciled on it. From the waist down, though, she held her denim-clad legs tightly together as if they were glued.
“She hasn’t blinked her eyes yet,” Rowan observed.
“She’s a lamia,” I said. She was half serpent, so no wonder she had made the mongoose uneasy.
The first lamia had been placed under a horrid curse where she could not close her eyes while she saw the faces of her dead children. And yet she must have had more daughters afterward because the shape and the stare had been passed on to her descendants. She probably had been staring at the enemy of serpents, the mongoose, rather than Winnie.
“Winnie, hold on to the mongoose and get inside the house,” I ordered, preparing to do battle.
“Well, aren’t you the clever wormy,” the lamia said, and pulled a lever on the dashboard.
The trunk lid popped up and out rolled kobolds, small squat creatures with hair that bristled like old toothbrushes and large-eared heads on thin necks. They burned easily in the sun, so they wore an assortment of caps and sunglasses that made them look like strange little tourists—except for the short pickaxes on their belts. Kobolds used them for fighting as well as mining, so I knew they meant business. Lady Luminita must be feeling desperate to try to kidnap us where anyone could spot us.