by Sarina Dorie
All she would want to hunt was rocks.
Perhaps a polecat, like Josef had suggested, was a more appropriate option for ridding the school of gnomes.
Vega spent an hour in the school library researching polecats, which were listed as enemies of gnomes and hobs. It wasn’t just polecats that hunted small, enchanted creatures, but ferrets and weasels as well. Their lean bodies and ability to dig into burrows of underground homes enabled them to attack their prey more easily than larger creatures. Polecats paralyzed their prey by piercing their brains, keeping them alive for later, just as Josef had said. The idea of that terrified gnomes.
Fresh meat was highly overrated. Vega tried not to think about the human corpse decomposing nearby.
The most useful piece of information Vega found during her Sunday research was that plants and animals didn’t have to obey Fae laws because they weren’t considered sentient. If a wild mongoose attacked a goblin or a brùnaidh, there was no law that settled the grievance. The family of an injured or killed hob could track the predator and attack with magic or muscle—or hire someone else to do so if they could find the animal—but no law specifically protected Fae against beasts.
Witchkin descended from Fae who had the ability to change into animals, werewolves, and other shifters were held accountable for killing or injuring a Fae while in another form when they changed back into their human body again.
If they were caught. That usually meant there were friends, kin, or that the Fae were sentient enough to belong to a court who would ensure justice—or vengeance—was served.
Feral gnomes were rogue Fae who didn’t belong to a court or royal household.
Vega suspected she had found her answer. She could change into a cat and often hunted mice when she did so. Catching gnomes while in a feline form wasn’t going to be harder for her than it was for a weasel. All she had to do was avoid their pickaxes.
* * *
Vega wasn’t surprised to find another note from the principal in her box that afternoon.
Vega Bloodmire,
Please do not look into the matter of the arsenic poisoning. The Witchkin Council can do that. All I need you to do is contact another company to relocate the gnomes and put the estimate in Mr. Gordmayer’s mailbox. That is all.
Do not try to help. Do I make myself clear?
Principal Gordmayer
Vega rolled her eyes. The principal had no idea how much help she needed, but if Vega told her that, she might come home early. She would take out her anger on Vega for missing the lunar eclipse meteor shower for her fountain-of-youth spell—and probably be crabbier than usual for not getting laid on her honeymoon. The DMV had demonstrated their negligence by not collecting the first body. She couldn’t imagine reporting a murder to the Witchkin Council would ensure competent people found the killer.
It would be so much better if Vega fixed everything and surprised Mrs. Gordmayer with the lack of gnomes—and lack of murderers and dead bodies—when she got back from Hawaii.
Hopefully, the principal wouldn’t come back early and find out about the body rolled up in the rug being stored temporarily in the graveyard.
That evening under a starry sky in the school cemetery, Vega used her Celestor powers to transform into a cat. Unlike a werebeast, this ability didn’t rely on a full moon. Vega had learned this form of magic long ago from Baba. Practicing shape shifting was supposed to make her transformations with ghoul powers easier when the change was forced on her.
Changing into a cat was far less painful than the shift that occurred when she accidentally—or purposefully—ingested flesh. Starlight raining down through patches of the leafy canopy tingled across Vega’s naked skin, sinking into her as she absorbed cosmic energy. That prickling sensation turned to an itch under her flesh. She sank to all fours as her body stretched and shifted shape. The act of transforming reminded her of yoga stretches, her muscles contracting and relaxing with the ease of practice. No bones broke. She remained fever free.
Unlike true werewolves and werecats whose animal selves took over after they transformed, Vega didn’t completely lose herself. She was still able to focus on her mission and think as a human—or perhaps just as a cunning creature used to plotting the demise of other creatures. She would have to stay in a cat form for years to lose her human identity permanently. But that didn’t mean she felt the same urges and emotions that a woman feels while in this form.
As it was, she was happy to give in to the animal instincts of this feline body and stalk deserving book murderers and defilers of graves.
Vega couldn’t fit into the gnome burrows like a polecat, but her night vision and hearing were attuned to the sounds of small creatures moving in the night. All she had to do to lure them out of their burrows was jingle a bag full of pennies. She carried the purse with her, dropping gnomes inside as she hunted, doing her best not to eat the gnomes.
It was a cunning plan worthy of a cat. She had saved Mrs. Gordmayer’s budget from overpriced pest collectors. Hopefully, Vega would be rewarded with more than a few clawfuls of gnomes for her efforts.
Vega still didn’t know what to do with all the gnomes she had caught and stored in the purse, but she expected relocation would be cheaper than the two quotes she’d gotten thus far.
* * *
On Monday between lessons, Vega found a message on her magic mirror when she returned to her room.
Mr. Reade’s concerned expression wavered across the glass as the mirror played his message. “I got a call from Hildy Heathgard this morning. She seemed a little put out about you dropping off a corpse at the Department of Magical Violations. And I don’t know what she was talking about regarding an arsenic poisoning, but it sounds . . . serious. Call me so I can clear this matter up with her.”
Vega called him on the magic mirror and filled him in about all the details—except where she had stored the gnomes and her future feline plans for the ones she hadn’t yet caught.
“I see,” Mr. Reade said. “And what do you plan to do now?”
Vega sighed. “The principal doesn’t want me to get involved.” But she already was involved. Her fingerprints were on everything: the purse, the gold coins, and Janis’s bracelets. If she stopped now, the Witchkin Council might think she was an accomplice rather than someone trying to figure out the actual culprit. “If I find out who Janis Meadowcloud’s murderer is, I’ll bring unwanted attention on the school. Principal Gordmayer might not hire me for a job in the fall.”
Unless she could take care of everything before the principal returned. That didn’t give her a lot of time to find the criminal—and ensure she didn’t get blamed. Yet she was going to have to do just that in order to make sure an inept bureaucracy didn’t blame her for being in the vicinity of two recent corpses.
Just as the principal had mentioned in her interview, it did tend to make Vega look suspicious when people died in her presence. She didn’t want the Witchkin Council to get the wrong idea about her.
“Despite what Mrs. Gordmayer mandates, it’s your civic duty to report what you’ve found to the Witchkin Council when they ask you. Try not to allow your anxiousness about future job opportunities to get in the way of doing what’s right.” His smile was fatherly—or what Vega imagined a fatherly smile might have been. “Don’t be surprised if Hildy calls you.”
Hildy did call. Vega was prepared. They made an appointment to meet on Tuesday two hours before her adult flying-education class.
Vega showed Hildy the evidence, Janis Meadowcloud’s corpse, and told her about her plan for catching the culprit.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Gnome Poem
Hildy Heathgard needed more evidence to prove the poisonings had been intentional—or a confession from the murderer. Vega suspected she knew how to help.
During the Tuesday adult class, Vega set the purse inside the bottom drawer of Mr. Reade’s desk. Even if this was her classroom for flyer education, it
was hard to feel like it was hers. Adult students entered the classroom and got ready to pretend to learn. “Janis Meadowcloud” stepped inside the room three minutes before class started.
Vega waited until class had started to point to the questions she’d written on the chalkboard to occupy her students for the first five minutes of class. “I would like you to quiz yourself over these questions, and we’ll go over the answers together and see how you did.”
After giving instructions, students got out paper, writing instruments, and textbooks. Vega withdrew the alligator-skin purse from the drawer and made no attempt to be quiet as she dropped it on the desk. Several students looked up, including Janis.
Her eyes went wide.
“Would you care to step outside the classroom?” Vega smiled, an eyebrow arched upward. “I believe this is yours.”
Reluctantly, Janis rose, bracelets jingling as she went. Vega held the door open and closed it behind them.
“I found a driver’s license inside with the name Janis Meadowcloud on it,” Vega said.
“Oh? That would make sense. It was my purse. Before it was stolen.” Perspiration dotted Janis’s forehead.
No doubt she had to be anxious, wondering whether Vega had also found the dead body rolled up in the carpet.
“Before it was stolen by Mrs. Angelopoulos?” Vega asked.
“I suppose it must have been her. It disappeared on my way out of the school last Tuesday.” Janis flashed a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, I had no idea who had stolen it. Probably the thief stole all my money. And who knows what she put in there to spite me.” She laughed nervously.
It was a good cover. She could later claim she had been framed by Mrs. Angelopoulos, who was the true murderer. At least she could try to claim that.
“I used a simple retrieval spell to call the owner’s identification to me,” Vega said.
Janis’s gaze flickered from Vega’s face to the bag. “Smart idea. Obviously you know it’s mine.”
It had actually been Hildy’s idea. She had found both women’s identification in the bag, as well as some unopened mail from over a month before, supporting Vega’s suspicion that it had originally been Mrs. Angelopoulos’s.
Vega used her firm teacher tone, just like she would with a student caught cheating on a test. “Why didn’t you just tell me it was your purse instead of trying to break into the school and steal it?”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie. I know it was you I saw. I checked with magic.” It was a slight enhancement of the truth.
“That lady was psycho. She accused me of stealing her purse, and then she stole it from me. I thought it might look . . . suspicious to ask for it back after she died.” She spoke quickly, her words coming out in a rush. “I figured if she stole my bag and put anything incriminating inside, it might look bad if anyone saw what might be in there before I did.”
“It’s also possible Mrs. Angelopoulos took her bag back because she just wanted her purse returned. She did accuse you of stealing it the night you crashed.” Vega enhanced the truth with a detail that was almost true. “I tested the purse to see who it actually belonged to. It was hers.”
“I didn’t know that.” Janis’s eyes went wide. “It must have been a mix-up. The night of the crash, our purses must have looked similar. That must have been it.”
From the way she had rushed forward, Vega could tell she was lying.
“It’s possible.” Vega said, “It’s also possible the real Janis Meadowcloud stole the purse a month ago, whether intentional or unintentional.” She paused, drawing out the drama of the moment. “You know, I can see through your glamour right now.”
It was another enrichment of the truth. Vega could definitely tell there was a glamour obscuring “Janis’s” features, but she was busy watching her opponent’s hands to ensure she didn’t reach for a wand. Vega didn’t dare distract herself by using unnecessary magic.
Janis bit her lip, looking far younger than she was trying to make the world think she was. She couldn’t be much older than Vega. Now this young woman was certain Vega knew more than she’d let on.
“Why don’t you explain why you really want this purse? Is it the gold inside or the dead body you poisoned with arsenic?” Vega didn’t know if this was going to work to force a confession, but she was the one with the upper hand.
She had the purse.
Janis sucked in a breath. “What do you really want?”
“I will happily return this purse to you . . . for a price.” It was the customary bargain one might expect in the Unseen Realm.
“How much gold do you want?”
“That depends on the truth. If I know what happened so I can cover my tracks, and I don’t think you’re jerking me around, I don’t need much.” Vega composed her face into a look of mock innocence. “I am just a humble schoolteacher after all. Tell me whom you killed and why. Then I’ll hand it over, no more questions asked.”
“Aunt Janis cut all of us off from her inheritance.” The Janis doppelgänger rolled her eyes.
Her aunt? She’d killed a family member?
Vega, too, had been financially disowned by her family. The difference between them was that no matter how much she despised her parents, she wasn’t going to kill them. Vega wanted to prove to them she didn’t need them or their money.
Vega was a hard worker determined to succeed. Janis’s niece was lazy. It disgusted Vega that the best this stranger could do to succeed in the world was to murder and steal from others.
“She wouldn’t share, so you killed her?” Vega demanded.
The doppelgänger shrugged. “She claimed she didn’t have anything to share. When I found the gold in her purse, I knew she was holding out on us. I figured with her out of the way, I could search her house and find more. But there wasn’t any more anywhere.”
Vega waved a hand over the woman’s attire. “And the point of keeping up this charade and pretending to be your aunt?”
“It’s easier to interview her friends when I look like her. Someone tipped me off she might know some of the students in the class.” Janis’s niece shrugged.
Vega quirked an eyebrow at her. “What you didn’t count on was the gold belonging to Mrs. Angelopoulos.”
The other woman’s eyes glinted with hunger. “We could go in on this together before this lamia’s family knows she’s dead. We could get in there and steal her gold and split it.”
Vega snorted, aware her mother would say making such a noise was unladylike. “I’ll pass on being poisoned by arsenic like Mrs. Angelopoulos.”
“That was an accident! She shouldn’t have stolen the purse from me. She did that to herself.”
“Of course.” Vega held the purse out to her.
Janis’s niece eyed it dubiously. “How much money are you going to extort from me?”
“You can have the entire contents.” Including the gnomes. Vega lowered her voice to a confidential whisper. “I had to borrow five of the twenty-dollar coins this week. I was a hundred short on my pizza bill.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding! Those coins are worth over a thousand dollars each. Please say you didn’t think they were only twenty dollars.” She snatched up the purse.
Vega shrugged. “I knew I paid too much for those pizzas.” It was so much less aggravating finding out she had overpaid when it was someone else’s money than if it were her own.
Janis’s niece peered inside. “What the hell? Something is moving in there.”
Vega couldn’t help adding a dig that would scare most Witchkin. “I do hope you haven’t been using necromancy or any forbidden magic to wake the dead.”
The other woman twisted her wrist, a wand appearing in her hand. Vega armed herself just as quickly, calling her wand from up her sleeve.
“I wouldn’t do anything foolish,” called a creaky voice from out of the shadows of the empty hallway.
In the light of the hallway, her straggly hair looked more blonde than white. Vega supposed she might be closer to Mr. Reade’s age than she’d realized.
Janis’s niece looked from Vega to the DMV employee, her eyes going wide. “You set me up!”
Faster than Vega could move, the murderer threw open the door to the classroom. Hildy threw a spell made of blue light that smelled of salty brine at the other woman, but Hildy missed.
The murderer shot through the classroom with inhuman speed. One of the windows slid open, and the murderer jumped out. Everything was happening almost too quickly for Vega’s eyes to process. Janis’s niece was using a time-enhancing spell.
From the electric crackle in the air and scent of ozone, Vega suspected it was one that used forbidden magic, possibly even the one Vega had learned from Baba all those years ago. She could have used it herself to chase after Janis if she hadn’t employed it only weeks before. It was dangerous to use it again so soon without enough preparation and energy stored up.
Plus, she didn’t particularly want to get caught using forbidden magic in the presence of someone who worked for the DMV.
Vega rushed into her classroom after the murderer, Hildy lagging behind her. Students looked from the window to Vega in confusion. Janis’s niece was already on a broom, flying away. Vega reached into her pocket and summoned her broom. She dove out the window after the fleeing criminal.
It was time for her students to see some fancy flying.
Vega hadn’t exaggerated during her interview when she’d professed to be an excellent flyer. She had played air pelota in high school. That required speed, skill, and multitasking multiple forms of magic at once. As ancient and wizened as Hildy might be with a multitude of skills, Vega doubted anyone could compete with her own abilities.