Murder, Magic, and Moggies

by Pearl Goodfellow

  Werelamb posed the query, and the Grumlin gave us another round of critical look-overs. He must have liked what he saw because he gestured for all of us to follow him past the shrine. We followed, holding onto the guideline, which was running parallel to the route he was taking.

  I noticed a dim red glow just around the next bend. The cord ran out just before the passage turned that particular corner. The light itself was unearthly, a dull, rusty red that seemed to cast no shadows from the nearby stalagmites and stalactites. The Grumlin seemed unafraid of the light as he turned the corner. A quick glance ahead through Faerie Sight revealed a large…'something' ahead. A 'something' that seethed with undeniably Fae type energies. It looked just big enough and wide enough to be a door.

  The actual sight of it confirmed my guess. A swirling rounded mass stood in the center of the corridor, which dead-ended behind the strange sight. The outer edge of the mass was lined with red; the color gradually fading in hue until it became pitch-black at its heart. No question that what was standing before us was nothing less than a permanent, active, magical portal to parts unknown. Mag Mell?

  The Grumlin stood in front of the gate and pointed at Dilwyn. It flicked its hands in a fierce click, shush, shush click. Dilwyn nodded and pointed at his ear. Whatever the little guy was about to say, he’d listen very carefully.

  With slow shuffles of his hand, the unusual critter began to 'speak.' About twenty seconds into this gesticulated story, Dilwyn chimed in with his translation. “This portal wasn’t always here. About three years ago, the rock people were just burrowing through the caves as usual when one of them hit a large cache of the black diamond just under the floor here.”

  Clearing his throat and swallowing, Dilwyn added, “It instantly killed the poor rock-man who was investigating the find. Just as if lightning had sprung from the stone rather than the sky. Those are the exact words of the little fellow here, by the way. Next thing anyone knew, the portal was standing in place of where the dead rock guy was.”

  “Did they ever get any—“

  Dilwyn held up his hands to both David’s question and the Grumlin’s storytelling. “No offense, Chief, but this will go much smoother if you could save the questions until after this little fellow is done talking.”

  Dilwyn gestured for the Grumlin to continue. The small humanoid picked up where he had left off. “They didn’t waste any time telling their human mining ‘partners’ about it. This is sacred territory, this is their home, so obviously they were rightly concerned about a whirling vortex turning up in their hallway." The Grumlin kept clicking and shushing his tale. "Um, not sure what the little chap said there. Something about an important sacred stone, or something?" Dilwyn shrugged. "Anyway, some governmental busybody with the backing from private corporate interests told them that the portal was harmless. It was merely a conveyor belt of sorts. A new way to ship the diamonds efficiently. And, less dangerous too, than the methods they use in their usual mining site close to The BD Cathedral."

  David and I nodded, urging him to continue.

  "Okay, so a woman comes. The woman has 'tall' hair."

  Dilwyn noticed our questioning faces. "Don't ask, I'm doing the best I can here. Not my fault that some stuff might get lost in translation." We kept quiet.

  "So this woman comes out here and shows them that the portal is safe. She picks up some BD and walks through the gateway as if she's walking into a library or something. Just breezes through. She's gone a few seconds, and then out she pops, back in this cavern, safe and sound."

  Dilwyn clicked his coin on the wall and looked expectantly at the short creature. "Ah, okay. So, after the woman reappears on this side, safe and well, she instructs them that the bulk of the BD shipments would now pass through this gate instead of The Cathedral site. Tells them that they'll be paid a better wage and that all kinds of protective spells would be placed around this sacred area to safeguard their privacy and to keep them from prying eyes."

  The Grumlin hung its head and sighed. He looked tired. I pondered whether Grumlins were big communicators in general, or whether they just preferred to be quiet in their subdued, underground terrain. He resumed his signing for Dilwyn to interpret. “Black Diamond mining is hard enough as it is. It takes a lot of cutting and a lot of manual transportation. But the amounts they were shipping through this gate was unprecedented."

  Dilwyn took a deep breath. "No attention was brought to this location here. That's one promise the 'tall-haired' woman kept. Nobody knows about this site or this portal. And the area around it is charmed to the hilt." David and I nodded our understanding; the wacky behavior of the brooms confirmed Dilwyn's translation.

  "Visitors are allowed into the main mine just by request. But, this location?" He waved his hands to include the tunnels and caverns of where we currently stood. "This site was, and is, a secret." He paused. "Until Millicent Pond found it, that is."

  I had a hunch on how the rest of this story went, and I wasn’t disappointed. “She told them they were being used, and that she wanted to help. In turn, they allowed themselves to trust in her, and they showed her this ... this ... gateway.” I said, nodding my head to the throbbing portal.

  The Grumlin turned to face the gate, defiantly craning his neck. His little hands were raised over his head as he finished his story. “Ms. Pond took one good look at the gate and got angry. She got even madder when she was told about the black diamond transportation through it. That’s when she called all the Grumlins together. She made the speech that woke them up. They’ve been awake ever since.”

  The Grumlin finished signing and turned back around to face us with an expectant look.

  “Okay, the little guy’s done talking,” Dilwyn said. “Now’s the time for those questions, Chief.”

  “Do they have any idea what’s on the other side of this gate?” David asked.

  The Grumlin hesitated before signing his answer back to Dilwyn. “Here’s his exact quote, near as I can tell: ‘a place that isn't worth risking our lives for. In other words, if they talk about what's on the other side, then it means certain death for their people.’”

  Well, that didn’t sound too ominous. Not. “Have any more black diamonds come through here since Millicent died?”

  The Grumlin firmly shook his head while he signed his response. “Naught…in fact, the trafficking stopped altogether before she died. The theory that the rock people believe is that Ms. Pond is the one that made it all stop. Life only got better after she made her speech here.”

  “Was there any humans involved in the mining? Who authorized it? Any more than just the tidbit on the 'tall-haired' woman?” David asked. "There's no mention that the Cathedral Administration were the ones sanctioning this. No mention of Gideon Shields. It seems it's a private operation. Is there a name?" David was pacing.

  Dilwyn looked doubtful about whether he could get the question right. Still, after he had slowly tapped the query, the Grumlin signed back an answer. Dilwyn didn’t seem to get it and tapped out something in response. Must have been the equivalent of “say that again” because the Grumlin gave him the same series of clicks and shush's the second time.

  “He says that all us humans look kind of alike to them,” Dilwyn said. “But he did say you should…seek out the tall-haired Hydra.”

  “Hydra?” I asked dubiously. What would an underground race like this know about a legendary sea monster with Marge Simpson hair like that?

  “I told you that there were some limits to what I understand,” Dilwyn said back.

  “And you’ve been doing fine, Dilwyn,” David said, putting a comradely hand on his shoulder. “Can you get our host to tell us a bit about this ‘Hydra’?”

  “No promises,” Dilwyn said while he tapped out the message.

  The Grumlin looked up at the cave ceiling to think about the question. Then he finally gestured out his answer. “Little guy did notice some things about this one. She was the first to go through the portal here. She never had
a kind word for any of the rock people. Just demands. She really hated on Ms. Pond, which made them little fellows hate her in turn.”

  “So this ‘Hydra’ was a ‘her’?” David asked.

  “No mistaking that much, I promise you.”

  “Was there anything physical that made her stand out?” I asked. “I know that may be asking too much but…”

  “Can’t hurt to ask,” Dilwyn said as he relayed my question.

  The Grumlin looked up at the ceiling again, actually putting some thought into the question. Finally, he looked back down and gave a response. “She wasn’t like any of the regular women they saw. She was taller than most…had ‘turned-down lips’—you know, a frown—on her face all the time…and, again with the hair. Tall hair.”

  The expression on David’s face told me exactly who he was thinking that description fit. “Don’t say it.”

  It can't be Portia Fearwyn. It just can't. Tall hair? Maybe they're describing her witch's hat?

  “Okay, I won’t,” David said with a grin. “At least, not while we’re here." He turned to Dilwyn. "Can you tell our host thank you for his time? I think we’ve got everything we need for right now.”

  “One of the first phrases I learned,” Dilwyn said with his own smile, tapping out his appreciation. The Grumlin signed back a message that made Dilwyn hold up his hand.

  “The little guy would really appreciate it if you could do something about this portal. He’s still not saying what’s on the other end of it but I guess that it can’t be anything good.”

  “Tell him that’s something I’ll definitely make a priority once I get back to Glessie,” David promised.

  After Dilwyn had tapped out David's sentiment, the Grumlin bowed so low that his head touched the floor, his tiny arms extending fully to his sides.

  “That was his way of saying ‘thank you so much,'” Dilwyn said. “I do believe that you’ve just made a new friend.”

  “Well, Grandma Chimera always said that you could never have too many good ones,” I noted. “Let’s get you back to the outside so you can go home.”

  “Yeah, about that,” Dilwyn said as we started walking the tunnel that led to the falls. “How hard is this going to be?”

  “Depends,” David said. “How do you feel about cliff diving?”

  Chapter 16

  Maybe it was because my clothes were still soaked from the jump into the pool back on Cathedral, but the Gorthlands felt muggier than usual. The whole flight over, I felt the water clinging to my skin worse than it had during that disastrous flight back from my first vacation to the bucolic Isle. I would have liked to have changed at the house, but David insisted on making a trip to Gaunt Manor right after we dropped off Dilwyn at his farm. By this point, I had concluded that this little jaunt had better net us something useful. I was risking catching a cold as it was.

  I was a little concerned about my police chief friend. He looked very pale when Dilwyn, he and I pulled ourselves from the pool.

  I asked him about it, but he just said he felt queer with the weird energies in that place.

  "You felt it, right, Hat?" He pulled a hand through his wet mane. "It was worse this time around than it was on our first visit."

  I only looked at my friend. Sure, there were some Fae vibrations in there. At least it felt like fairy business. But, I certainly wasn't so adversely affected by the magical currents as my dear friend was. He really didn't look well.

  He offered me a practiced smile, and hopped on his broom, waving for me to do the same. Dilwyn rode shotgun with David. I heard them joking and laughing ahead of me. Which, I must admit, made me feel relieved. It seemed David was back to his normal jovial self.

  My first words after we touched down outside the front door were: “So what exactly is our story when Mrs. Fearwyn demands to know why we’re here?”

  “The usual,” David admitted. “We think she was involved in the murder we’re currently investigating. Only difference is that, this time, we have eyewitness testimony that puts her at the scene.”

  I eyed the front door nervously. “Even for one of your ‘Portia is guilty’ crusades, that’s pretty thin. So what was her motive?”

  “Actually, I don’t think that she had one,” David admitted with a shrug. “But the esteemed Governor Shields did.”

  “So you think that this was a contract killing?” David’s reasoning was getting harder and harder to follow.

  “More like that Portia was part of this operation once the gate was found. We already know that she was importing a good many dangerous herbs in huge quantities. Maybe that ties in with the black diamonds being shipped through the portal. I'm thinking she used that very same gateway for the conveyance of her baleful goods. Some kind of arrangement with Shields, or whatever.” I was disheartened to hear my usually very lucid friend grasping, so desperately, at straws. I kept quiet for a moment.

  David knocked on the front door. I frowned. “There’s another problem with this theory. If you’ve already got a magic portal to somewhere that you’re giving the diamonds a one-way ticket to, why would you need an airstrip on Glessie? Kinda takes Shields' guilt and/or complicity down a notch, no?”

  “You’re doing a pretty good impersonation of Shields’ lawyer here,” the chief said as he knocked again.

  “But I’d think that your involvement with Gideon’s right-hand woman would make you at least give him the benefit of the doubt here. There's no motive, David. Gideon clearly wants the runway proposal to go ahead. What use would he have for that if he knew he had a portal that could ship the goods much more efficiently? It just doesn't make any sense." I trailed off. "I still think Ravena is our best suspect right now.”

  David’s face broke out in a couple of weird tics, “You know, you’re right. That’s why Ravena hired Portia to kill Millicent.”

  “Huh?” I asked, stepping back as David knocked the door for the third time in a row. “But, just a moment ago, you were spelling out your reasons for why Gideon was guilty—“

  “And he does look guilty,” David said while his head flicked in another series of peculiar stutters. “More guilty than Ravena does, in fact, now that I think about it.”

  I was getting alarmed at the zigzag of this conversation. “David, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” David said, banging the door with the knocker one more time. “We’re just reasoning things out like we usually do.”

  “But you keep going back and forth on why Gideon is guilty,” I pointed out. “Why is that?”

  “Because there is no way Shields could have done it,” David said without missing a beat, even as he suddenly staggered from some spasm that went right through him. “That leaves Ravena, and she most definitely had Portia helping her out.”

  Even if you didn’t notice the complete flip-flop in reasoning, that made even less sense than the Portia-working-for-Gideon theory. Ravena was a smart enough scientist to do this kind of murder without any extra help. I thought I detected a pattern in David’s words. “Then Gideon isn’t guilty?”

  “Yes, Gideon is definitely, absolutely, positively guiltteeeeeeeeee—“

  A seizure suddenly overtook David as he collapsed on the front stoop of Gaunt Manor. I stifled my shock long enough to put the olive stick between his teeth. Then I knocked on the front door with a vengeance. “Help! Ms. Fearwyn! I need your help!”

  My cries echoed across the swamp as I pulled back the knocker a second time. But Portia opened the door with her usual acid countenance. One glance down at David and her expression flipped from annoyed to concerned.

  “Help me get him in, Seraphim,” she calmly ordered. I grabbed under his arms while she took his feet.

  Between the two of us, we got David inside. He was still seizing from whatever had been scrambling his brains outside Portia's door. But the olive stick was holding firm, which meant his tongue was out of danger. We laid him out on the dusty dining room table that was big enough and broad enough
to support his frame. She gave him a field medic’s examination of his vitals. She took in a deep breath when she checked over his pupils.

  “Do you have any peppermint or eucalyptus oil in your bag?” she asked, noting the trusty tote at my side.

  “Definitely eucalyptus,” I told her, digging through the bag’s contents to find the mentholated oil.

  She nodded and walked to the kitchen. A few seconds later, she came back with a stoppered vial full of some sort of white salt. Popping the stopper off, she carefully but quickly poured in the eucalyptus oil to join the white solids. Replacing the stopper, she shook it up and said some words that I recognized as an incantation. Although I'd be unable to repeat them if questioned. The mixture inside began to steam and turned an angry red, then a cobalt blue, then a forest green. She pulled out the stopper and stuck it under David’s nose.

  Inhaling the stuff made him spit out the stick and start coughing compulsively. He nearly rolled off the table until I caught him. The cough kept up for a few more minutes until finally, his body came to merciful homeostasis.

  “Had it been up to me, CPI Trew, I would have let you land on my floor,” Portia said with disdain, putting the stopper back in place in her mixture.

  David’s eyes looked a little frightened this time. “I had…I had another seizure, didn’t I?”

  “Right on my front door, no less,” Portia added as I helped David to his feet. “I do wish you would have had the decency to shake out your demons elsewhere."

  Recalling Onyx’s perceptive interrogation from earlier, I asked, “What is the last clear thing you remember before now?”

  David took a few moments to think it through. “We had just dropped Dilwyn off at his farm…”

  “Right.”

  “Then we flew here; we landed just outside the manor…”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then…” David’s expression stiffened. “We were talking about why I thought that—“

  He clammed up when he looked over at Portia.

  “Oh, do stop being so reticent,” Portia declared. “It’s not as if this is the first time you’ve accused me of murder, Para Inspector.”