"I have an appointment now,” Gray said. "Graydon Mappleworth.”
The receptionist beamed. She was a slight woman with cropped purple hair and pointy ears.
“Have a seat, Mr. Mappleworth. Dr. Jonas is finishing up with a patient and will be with you shortly. Would you like a magazine? I have Vampire Monthly or Better Coffins and Gardens.”
“I’m good,” he replied. He took a seat beside me on the sofa in the waiting area.
“You can try the words ‘thank you’ once in a while," I said. "They won't kill you."
He offered a vague smile. "Because I'm already dead?"
"A little manners go a long way," I said. Another motto of my mother's. I often lamented losing her at a young age, but it was moments like this that reminded me I’d been lucky to have her at all.
"I'm beginning to see that," Gray said.
The door to the office opened, and a jocular elf appeared in a white lab coat. "Good afternoon, Mr. Mappleworth. A pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Jonas Buttons, but everyone calls me Dr. Jonas.”
Gray stood to shake his hand. "Thanks for seeing me on short notice, Dr. Jonas." He tossed me a satisfied look, seemingly proud to have inserted a basic ‘thanks’ into his greeting.
“And who is this?" Dr. Jonas asked, observing me.
Gray placed an arm around my shoulders. “She’s my emotional support human. I’m not a fan of the dentist, so I’ve paid her to accompany me. I use her for all sorts of activities I dislike."
Dr. Jonas inclined his head, examining me with interest. "I've never had a patient with an…emotional support human before." His expression brightened. "I love the concept, though. Anything that makes the experience easier for both of us, right? Come on back.”
There was no way this jovial elf could have killed Calvin Motley.
Dr. Jonas brought us into the second room on the right. The walls were painted a soothing sage green, and decorated with pictures of baskets bursting with unfamiliar fruits.
“Why don’t you settle into the chair and tell me what brought you in today?” Dr. Jonas said.
Gray reclined in the chair, while I took a seat by the door. "I've had a pain in my upper right fang. I'm worried that I may have a hairline fracture."
“Let me take a look," Dr. Jonas said. He sat beside Gray and peered into his mouth. "I'm not seeing any evidence of a fracture, but I am seeing a couple of cavities. When’s the last time you had a cleaning?"
Gray tried to talk, but found it difficult with the dentist’s hands in his mouth.
"I noticed the protective barrier between the receptionist and the waiting area,” I said. "Is that for security reasons?"
Dr. Jonas continued to explore Gray's mouth, and I tried my best not to find amusement in the vampire’s obvious discomfort. "It is, unfortunately. I had a few incidents in the last year that prompted me to beef up security measures. Treating vampires has always carried a modicum of risk—no offense, Mr. Mappleworth.”
“None taken,” he said. At least I thought that was what he said. Hard to tell.
“I’ve even had to hire private security for certain patients," Dr. Jonas said. “It's a tax write-off, so there’s that.”
“Why not turn those patients away?" I asked. “Why go to the trouble of hiring muscle?”
“It's bad for business," Dr. Jonas said. “If vampires hear that I'm turning away patients, they may simply go elsewhere without checking with me.”
“What kind of security do you hire for a situation like yours?" I asked. "As an emotional support human, it would be helpful to know."
"I find shifters to be the best deterrent for vampires," Dr. Jonas said. "Natural enemies and all that."
“Find anyone particularly good?" I asked. "I'd love to keep a list of recommendations for my clients.”
Dr. Jonas shot me a curious look. "You're not exclusive?"
"With Mr. Mappleworth?” I queried. "No. He only hires me on an ad hoc basis. Why do you ask?"
The elf shrugged. "I thought I sensed a bond. My mistake."
I was glad Gray couldn’t see me because I had no doubt my face had turned crimson. Did vampires bond with humans?
“I guess there has to be somewhat of a bond between us," I said, scrambling for an acceptable response. "Without trust, there is no real support."
“Well said," Dr. Jonas said. "I trusted my last security guard. I was sorry to lose him. I wish I could recommend him to you."
"Why can't you? What happened?" I asked.
Dr. Jonas scraped at Gray’s fangs while he talked. I noticed Gray’s foot twitch uncomfortably and stifled a laugh.
“He died, sadly," Dr. Jonas replied. "He worked over at Spellslingers Academy of Magic. I’d been lucky to find him. Very reliable, which isn't as easy to find as you would think."
"That's terrible," I said. “Do you know what happened?
Dr. Jonas shook his head. "No, only that it was unexpected and suspicious. They wouldn't tell me any more than that."
"When was the last time you saw him?" I asked.
“I asked him to come last week," Dr. Jonas said. "One of my more difficult patients had an appointment. He hates to come, but he has horrible issues with his fangs, so there's no choice. Calvin was here, same as normal."
"Did you notice anything unusual?" I asked. "Any strange behavior?"
"No,” Dr. Jonas replied. “I asked my receptionist, too, but she didn't notice anything odd either. Calvin was here, cracking jokes and talking about his favorite weapons.”
“Weapons?” I echoed. “Was that something he often talked about?”
Dr. Jonas chuckled. "He was the Master at Arms at the academy, so, yes. I’d say it was a popular topic for him. As elves, Marcy and I enjoy hearing about exotic weapons. They’re pretty far out of the realm of our experience.” He waved a dental tool in the air. “This is as close to a weapon as I get.”
“Did he talk about any weapons in particular at that last appointment?" I asked. “Maybe it was connected to his death. You said the circumstances were suspicious."
“Yes, that's what the investigator seemed to think," Dr. Jonas said. "He talked about a sword owned by some Viking, I think. I had to tune out just when he was getting to the good part. My patient was struggling.” He patted Gray’s arm. “Not like you, Mr. Mappleworth. You’re a trooper. You’re welcome here anytime. No security required.”
“It's the presence of my support human," Gray managed to say. "Keeps me calm. And polite."
“Calvin kept my patient calm,” Dr. Jonas said. “The only issue I had last week was that he was in rare form, almost too funny. He told us a story about his visit to a mage that had my patient jerking with laughter. I nearly placed a filling into the wrong tooth because he couldn’t stay still.”
A mage? I wondered whether Calvin had been telling stories about one of the professors at school. “Do you recall the story? I’m sure Gray wouldn’t mind a touch of amusement at the moment.”
Dr. Jonas smiled, recalling the visit. “He went to see some acrobatic mage in a warehouse downtown, over on Acacia Street. Apparently, she performs shows all over the quadrant. He described some of her act.” The elf slapped his leg, remembering. “You had to know Calvin. He could really spin a yarn when he was in the mood.”
That didn’t match the werewolf I’d met in class. Then again, my interactions with him had been brief.
“He went to see the show?” I asked.
“No, it sounded like he went to deliver something to her.” Dr. Jonas swapped tools and carried on torturing Gray. I could understand why the elf needed protection from aggravated vampires. “Calvin didn’t say what it was. He just mentioned the reason he went to see her in passing. I assumed it was on behalf of the academy.”
“I’d love to see her performance,” I said. “Do you remember her name?”
“Gina LaFontana,” Dr. Jonas said, without missing a beat. “He described her, too, but I’ll spare you the details. It was an all-male ro
om at the time, you see.”
I saw.
I added Gina LaFontana to my mental list. “Can you think of any reason that someone may have wanted to hurt Calvin? What about one of your patients that he may have had to restrain?"
Dr. Jonas tugged on his pointy ear. "No. We never had a situation that serious, thankfully. Calvin's presence was enough to keep the vampires in line."
A dead end. Oh well, on the bright side, Gray was the recipient of a badly needed cleaning. Not a complete waste of time.
Dr. Jonas handed a cup of water to Gray. “Rinse.”
Gray did as instructed, spitting into a nearby sink.
“The good news is there is definitely no fracture," Dr. Jonas said. "The bad news is that you need to do a better job of maintaining these fangs of yours, or you’re going to lose them before you’re ready. Take it from me,” he said, rubbing his bald head. “You don’t want to lose anything before you’re ready.”
Gray grunted. "I'll take it under advisement."
"I don't have time in my schedule now to address your cavities," Dr. Jonas said, "but if you talk to Marcy on the way out, she can get you a follow-up appointment.”
"How does that sound, Gray?" I asked with mock concern. "Is that something you can handle?"
He scowled. “As long as you’re by my side, I’ll be fine.”
Dr. Jonas broke into a wide smile. “Now, that's what I like to see. Teamwork makes the dream work." He rolled back his chair and stood. "It was a pleasure meeting you both. I'll see you again soon.”
Gray and I left the office after making an appointment with Marcy.
“You're going to keep that appointment, right?" I asked.
"Of course not," he snapped.
“You have to,” I said. "It's important to take care of your teeth. You heard what Dr. Jonas said. You could lose your fangs before you're ready."
"What does it matter to you?"
“I don't know,” I said. “I guess it’s because of our bond.”
“We don’t have a bond,” Gray said. “That elf was full of minotaur shit.”
“Okay, there’s no bond,” I said. “I guess I’ll go see the dwarf on my own.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gray said. “I can’t let you do that.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Why not? Is it maybe because we have a bond?”
Gray growled. “There’s no bond. I just don’t want to see you get killed in your quest for truth, justice, and the AMF way.”
I smiled to myself. “Whatever you say, Mr. Mappleworth.”
15
It wasn’t difficult to track down Kilond. Apparently, he was a member of the distinguished Clan Soren and a member of the International Dwarf Council. Gray and I rode the motorcycle down several country roads until we reached the foothills of the Dragonscale Mountains. A bright orange flag bearing a sigil of a pig waved in the wind, alerting us to our destination.
"I've never heard of these mountains," I said.
“That's because they're not in Terrene,” Gray said.
“I don't understand how that's possible," I said. "A satellite of earth would show mountains. You can't exactly hide them."
Gray quirked an eyebrow. "You really don't understand, do you? Nothing in the paranormal world is visible to the human world, unless we want it to be. They coexist, like compatible layers.”
"I'll take your word for it," I said, and surveyed the area. "Where’s his house?"
“I'm going to take a stab in the dark and say the entrance is in the hillside."
I pursed my lips. "Is that really a good expression for you to use? I would think stabs in the dark would make you uncomfortable."
He frowned. "I guess I never really thought about it. It's just something we say."
“We say in the human world, too, but now I wonder whether it originated here." I let Gray lead, uncertain how to find the front door to the dwarf’s house.
"I'm not surprised this guy felt the need to hire Motley's services," Gray said. "You've got to be pretty paranoid to live under a hill in this day and age."
"Well, he's not exactly hiding with that bright orange flag at the end of the road," I said.
“It's meant as a marker, for when he expects visitors," Gray said. He examined the side of the hill where we stood. "I might need a little of your magic."
“I don't think water will help us here," I said.
"Use one of your other powers. You’re an elemental sorceress, right? Tap into that earth magic."
I folded my arms and stared at the hillside. "What do I do? I don't want to cause a mudslide or an avalanche.”
Gray laughed lightly. "You would need an awful lot of earth magic to achieve that. Try to use your witchy senses to find the door. There’s probably a protective ward that keeps it hidden. You should be able to see past it."
I concentrated on the side of the hill, focusing all my energy on locating the door. I wondered what the dwarf did when visitors were expected. Did he put an ‘X marks the spot’ on the hillside? And did the orange flag mean he was expecting visitors?
Instinctively, I placed my hands on the mound. I continued to feel various areas of earth until I detected a different energy. “Here," I said.
“Good work. Can you manifest the door?" he asked.
"I wouldn't even know where to begin," I said. "I've seen references to manifestation spells at the academy, but I’ve barely mastered where the restrooms are.”
“Use your wand," he said. "You did bring your wand, didn't you?" He noticed my expression. “You still don’t have a wand? What’s going on over there?”
“Bureaucracy, apparently.”
Gray suppressed a smile. "I know a spell you can use."
"How?"
“I told you, my partner was a witch," he said. "You don't spend years with a witch without picking up some tips.”
“When you say you spent years with her, you mean as wardens, right?"
“Of course,” he replied. “What else would I mean?”
I shrugged. “Don’t vampires have romantic relationships?”
“She was my professional partner,” he said tersely. “There was nothing romantic between us. That doesn’t stop me from mourning her every day, though.”
“I wasn’t suggesting otherwise,” I said quietly. I hadn't meant to upset him. “So what's our plan? I manifest the door, and then we knock?"
"Or ring the bell," he said. "I suspect a knock wouldn’t be loud enough to get his attention in a place as cavernous as this one likely is.” He came to stand behind me, and ran a hand down the length of my arm, guiding my hand back to the hillside. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation in my body. “Focus your will. I assume you know how to do that."
"Yes," I said, my voice cracking slightly. I could feel the heat of his body behind me, which surprised me. I expected vampires to be cold.
"I'm going to say the spell," he said. "I want you to feel the magic flow through you, and repeat my words.”
I suppressed a shiver as his breath tickled my earlobe. "I'm ready." He had to hurry before I became too distracted by his close proximity.
I repeated the spell, my breathing ragged. I prayed Gray didn’t notice.
A metal door materialized in front of us, along with a single button.
“That must be the bell," I said, and pressed it. Although we heard nothing, a window appeared in the door at eye level.
“Who calls on Master Kilond of Clan Soren?” a voice asked.
“Graydon Alastair Mappleworth III and his human companion,” Gray said, injecting a note of authority into his voice.
“I’ll see if the master’s available,” the voice said. The window disappeared, leaving only the metal door.
“Why do you keep identifying me as your human companion?” I asked.
“Because certain paranormals can’t tell you’re anything more than that without help,” he explained. “Dwarfs and elves don’t have a built-in minotaur shit detector the way vam
pires and shifters do.”
“Wouldn’t it be more intimidating to say I’m a sorceress?” I queried.
“I want you to put them at ease,” he said. “I’m the one meant to intimidate them.”
“Gotcha.”
The door eventually opened, and a pixie with tiny orange wings greeted us. Even her hair was streaked with orange. Kilond Soren clearly had a favorite color.
“The master will see you now. This way." She fluttered ahead, and we followed her through a maze of rooms until we reached a conservatory at the back of the hillside home. Through the glass, I could see the rock formations of the mountain base.
Kilond Soren was facedown on a table, being massaged by multiple scantily clad pixies, all with orange accents of one kind or another. He didn't bother to look up to greet us.
"Gray Mappleworth,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “I know you by reputation.”
"This is quite a home you have,” Gray replied. I noticed that he averted his gaze so as not to linger on the attractive pixies. For whatever reason, that pleased me.
“Isn’t it, though?” the dwarf said, as the pixies pounded on his back and calves with their tiny fists. “That’s quite a compliment coming from someone of your lineage.”
I realized that there were more Soren sigils in the conservatory. The dwarf was as proud of his heritage as Irish-Americans on St. Patrick’s Day.
“I’d like to talk to you about a friend of mine,” Gray said. “Calvin Motley.”
The dwarf turned his head to the side, so that we could hear him more clearly. "Terrible tragedy, isn't it? I spoke to a warden about him recently. A wereass called Theo Armitage.”
“He’s not a wereass,” I corrected him. “He’s a wizard.”
The dwarf chuckled. “Your human friend has a sense of humor. How refreshing.” He waved the pixies away and dropped his feet to the floor. He didn’t bother to cover himself, instead standing in front of us in all his dwarfen glory, save for an amulet around his neck in the shape of a pig. His family’s sigil suddenly seemed appropriate.
“She looks tasty,” Kilond said, admiring me. “And very healthy for a companion.”
Outcast: Spellslingers Academy of Magic (Warden of the West Book 1) Page 15