The Stroke of Eleven

by Kyle Robert Shultz

  Crispin was still happily chattering about how excited he was to be here. “And, I can shapeshift here whenever I want, and nobody cares!”

  In the blink of an eye, he transformed into a large, shaggy white dog. He panted happily at me.

  Crispin had recently been turned into a shapeshifting creature called a pooka. It was the only cure for a curse he’d been under. Due to unfortunate circumstances, I’d been forced to use a magical dagger to change him into a merman. The magic was irreversible, and would have left him confined to the ocean forever had Cordelia not cast the pooka spell on him. This had absorbed the Undine curse, and had the side effect of allowing him to take on practically any form he wished.

  I’d observed something strange about his powers lately. Every single creature he shapeshifted into in the past couple of weeks had been pure-white in color. Even animals that were never white, like crows. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the dangerous magic he’d tapped into not long ago—the same forbidden spell that had put a white streak in his hair.

  I rolled my eyes. “Change back. Right now.”

  Crispin barked at me and instantly turned back into a human. “Spoilsport.”

  I pointed to the side of his head. “You’ve still got the ears.”

  He reached up and felt the floppy appendages. “Oh.” With a brief shake of his head, his ears went back to normal.

  “And the tail.”

  “Whoops.” This soon vanished as well.

  I searched the crowd. “What’s taking Cordelia so long?”

  “She said it might be a while before she found what’s-her-name.”

  “I know. But she should have let us stay with her.”

  “She said we should mingle instead of all staying clumped together in a big group, so we wouldn’t attract attention.”

  “Would you stop telling me everything she said? I remember, thank you very much.” I looked around again. “Where’s Molly, by the way?”

  Crispin jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “She’s back there, arguing with an ogre about the eggs he’s selling. He claims they’re gryphon eggs, she says they’re ordinary chicken eggs with an enlargement spell on them.”

  I spotted her about fifteen feet behind him. Molly Beaumont, Cordelia’s cousin, gesticulating with her hands as she made her case to the unamused ogre. There was a basket of enormous eggs between them.

  “And in the second place,” I heard her say in her Caledonian lilt, “if you really had stolen these from an actual gryphon nest, you’d be dead!”

  “I’m an ogre,” he rumbled. He had his arms folded across his chest, and was glaring at Molly with the single eye in the center of his forehead. “I’m hard to kill.”

  “Not for an angry mother gryphon, you’re not.” Molly brushed a lock of her dark hair back under her cap and shoved her hands into the pockets of her knitted cardigan. “Ogre or not, she’d eat your face off.”

  “You calling me a liar?”

  Molly didn’t even flinch. “I’m calling myself a cryptobiologist who knows the difference between gryphons and chickens. Whatever conclusions you draw about yourself from that are your own problem.”

  If I, or Crispin, or Cordelia had said something like that to an ogre, we would have been in serious trouble. But the twinkle in Molly’s eye and the good-natured manner in which she spoke caused the ogre to burst into a thunderous laugh. I’d realized since Molly began traveling with us that she had a remarkable talent for winning people over—even extremely difficult people.

  “How is she?” I asked Crispin.

  “Well, she’s still getting used to spending more time away from the coast.”

  Molly was a mermaid—or an Undine, to be precise. However, unlike Crispin when he’d been cursed, she was capable of shapeshifting into human form. Her mixed heritage allowed her to live in two worlds. She was a direct descendant of the Sea Witch from the tale of The Little Mermaid—who, as it turned out, had been the hero rather than the villain of the story. As we’d recently discovered, the Little Mermaid was actually the evil one. She was the Unqueen, a dangerous and powerful mermaid whose ghost had possessed Molly and almost destroyed the undersea kingdom of Aegiris before we stopped her.

  “It’s a little hard for her, but she still says she’d prefer to go on adventures with us than hang around frowsty old Warrengate all the time.” Crispin nibbled a fingernail in concern. “I hope the Mythfits are taking proper care of all my pets while she’s gone.”

  “I’m not talking about how she’s managing away from the ocean. I’m talking about…everything that happened. With the Unqueen, and Molly’s voice. How is she holding up after all that? It must have been horrible for her, but she never wants to talk about it.”

  Crispin tensed. “Don’t say anything about her voice, okay?”

  My eyes widened. “You mean…you haven’t told her yet? About what you did?” Our defeat of the Unqueen had destroyed Molly’s voice, but Crispin had cast a dangerous spell to reach back through time and restore it.

  “I just—I haven’t found the right moment yet.”

  “Crispin, there is no right moment to tell someone that you broke the laws of magic and warped reality to heal their injuries. Here’s some brotherly advice—stop waiting for that moment and tell her now.”

  “I don’t see what’s so important about her knowing every detail. I got her voice back. It’s over. Why should I bother with a blow-by-blow description?”

  “Because there might be consequences for what you did! And if there’s some kind of magical backlash, and Molly’s caught in it without any warning, that’s not going to be very fair to her, now is it?”

  “You’re blowing this out of proportion. Molly will be fine.”

  “And what about you?” My eyes strayed to the lock of pure-white hair near Crispin’s forehead.

  “Stop looking at that.” Crispin covered it with his hand. “I’m fine. Absolutely fine. No ill effects from what happened, except for the hair thing. Which actually gives me a sort of rugged, mysterious look, I think.”

  I wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure! I look amazing!”

  I bared my fangs. “Not about that! About you being all right!”

  “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why do you and Cordelia act like you’re afraid of me now?”

  “We’re not!”

  “You’re keeping things from me. I know that. I don’t see how you have the right to judge me about Molly.”

  My tail twitched in frustration. “Crispin, we don’t mean to be secretive. We don’t know what to say. This is uncharted territory even for Cordelia. We have no idea what the repercussions of that spell you cast might be.”

  “So far, it hasn’t had any repercussions. Aside from Molly being able to speak again. Would you have preferred for her to be mute forever?”

  “No, of course not, but—”

  “Well then. That’s settled.” He pointed behind me. “There’s Cordelia. Let’s go join her, shall we?”

  “This conversation isn’t over!” I called after him as he walked away.

  “When is a conversation with you ever over?”

  I dropped to all fours and bounded after him. I normally tried not to do that in front of strangers, but I was pretty sure no one in the Undermarket would care much about it.

  I stood up again once we reached Cordelia. She was dressed in a jacket, trousers, and cap—a very unusual outfit for her, but she’d wanted to blend in. Her big satchel of magic paraphernalia was slung over her shoulder. She stood by a stall liberally cluttered with a hodge-podge of artifacts. Most of them looked as if they’d come from very distant lands, further afield than the rest of the merchandise in the market. There were tribal masks from Anansica, nested dolls from Skazka, and terracotta figurines from the Far East.

  Cordelia was talking to one of the latter. “Are you quite sure she’s coming? I haven’t got al
l day.”

  The statuette was a armored soldier with a long beard and a fierce expression. It didn’t speak its reply to Cordelia’s question. Instead, it made a series of hand gestures. Reading between the lines, I gathered that it was trying to tell Cordelia to shut up and be patient.

  Cordelia drummed her fingers on the counter of the booth. “I’ve a good mind to come in there and simply take the item Nadia promised me.”

  The figurine drew his sword. Not a very threatening gesture, given his size. However, at the same moment, a battalion of other figurines clambered onto the counter and lined up next to their comrade, drawing their own blades as well. The legion seemed capable of doing significant damage, even to someone far taller than them.

  Cordelia recoiled. “Or not.”

  “What’s taking your friend so long?” I asked her. “We need to hurry.”

  She gave me a weary look. “I know that, Nick. If I could get her here faster, I would. And she’s not my friend, by the way. Just somebody I’ve done business with on a few occasions.”

  “And she’s a naga.”

  “Yes.”

  I scratched my head. “You know, I didn’t admit this earlier because it was a little embarrassing, given that I’ve studied myths and legends so much in my private-investigation work…but I have no idea what a naga is.”

  “Me neither,” said Crispin.

  “I can explain!” Molly had popped up out of nowhere, as if the opportunity to give a dissertation on a magical species had summoned her out of the ether.

  Cordelia cringed. “Are you sure you want to? They might run.”

  My hackles rose. “Why? What’s so scary about nagas?”

  “Well, you know what mermaids look like,” said Molly.

  I nodded. “I’ve met you, so yeah.”

  “And I’ve been one—I mean, a man one—so definitely,” said Crispin.

  “Nagas are very similar.”

  I felt relieved. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Wait for it,” Cordelia murmured.

  “Except,” Molly went on, “instead of having the lower body of a fish, they’ve got the lower body of a—”

  “Snake!” yelled Crispin. He turned into a fox and darted behind my legs.

  Crispin really, really, really hates snakes.

  I couldn’t blame him for being scared, though, given the size of the snake that had just arrived.

  “So sorry to keep you waiting.” The naga glided up to the window of the booth, her long, scaly body undulating behind her. Unlike mermaids, or centaurs, or other half-human creatures, her animal attributes didn’t stop at her waist. Her green scales covered her human torso as well. She had wavy, flowing green hair and wore a long black dress that came all the way down to the floor around her snake body. She fixed a pair of yellow, slit-pupiled eyes on us and tasted the air with a forked tongue.

  “Cordelia,” she purred. “You’re still alive? What a lovely surprise.”

  “Never mind the pleasantries, Nadia.” Cordelia tapped her foot. “I’m in a hurry. Where’s the bottle?”

  “You’ve made some interesting friends, I see.” The naga looked over Cordelia’s shoulder. “Your friend there…the big hairy one. Is he for sale?”

  I growled. “Oi!”

  “No,” said Cordelia.

  “Parts of him, then?”

  “No.”

  “A few non-vital organs? You’ve no idea what I could get for—”

  “The bottle,” Cordelia cut in. “Now, if you please.”

  “Are you sure this is wise, Cordelia? You know how djinns are. Most untrustworthy. I know you want to break your friend’s curse, but I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  Something about Nadia troubled me—and not just the fact that her bite was probably venomous. Her manner was odd, as if she were trying to drag out the conversation for no particular reason.

  “Your concern for my well-being is appreciated. Now, shall we get down to business?” Cordelia pulled a small cloth bag from her satchel and tossed it in front of the naga. Something inside it was pulsating rapidly.

  “As promised, the still-beating heart of a bugbear,” she declared. “Your payment.”

  I shuddered. That bugbear had been a nasty piece of work.

  Nadia poked at the bag with a long fingernail, a bored look on her face. “It’s not enough.”

  “It’s all you’re going to get. And besides that, it is enough. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get one of these things? You have to use human bait, for pity’s sake.”

  “I was the bait,” Crispin piped up, as he changed back into a human. He continued to keep a safe distance between himself and Nadia.

  “We know. And we’re sorry. You don’t have to keep reminding us.” I scanned the crowd for signs of anything suspicious. It was difficult to tell if something was “wrong” in a place like this, but it looked as if there were a few people at the edge of the crowd acting strangely. Three apparently human men with sour expressions on their faces, who kept casting furtive glances in our direction.

  I leaned toward Cordelia. “Listen, I think—”

  She waved a hand to shut me up. “Hush. I’m negotiating. All right, Nadia, I shouldn’t do this, but…” She pulled another bag from her pocket. This one was moving too. “Here’s the bugbear’s liver. It’s highway robbery, but I’ll let you have both in exchange for the djinn bottle.”

  Nadia inserted a long, dramatic pause, during which I noticed the three men drawing closer.

  “Got the kidneys?” the naga asked.

  “No.”

  “You’re lying. Of course you saved those. You wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave them behind.”

  “They’re not that useful.”

  “Are you joking? I could name a dozen highly useful potions that include bugbear kidneys.”

  “Even if I had them, I wouldn’t think of giving them to you.” There was an almost gleeful light in Cordelia’s eyes. Clearly, she enjoyed haggling.

  “Cordelia,” I hissed.

  “Not now! I’m extremely busy!” She’d told me before that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get the bottle without having to hand over all the organs we’d retrieved. I gathered she was excited at the prospect of getting the bottle for only a few and then saving the rest in case we needed them later.

  But now I saw Nadia locking eyes with one of the mysterious men. He gave a nod and motioned for his comrades to move in.

  “Just one,” Cordelia was saying. “One kidney.”

  “I want all four.”

  “Certainly not!”

  I tapped Cordelia on the shoulder. “Will you listen?”

  “Shhh!” she clamped a hand over my mouth. “Only two, then!”

  “Cordelia!” I took hold of her arms and spun her around to face me. “This. Is. A. Trap!”

  Crispin and Molly flinched. “It is?” Crispin yelped.

  Cordelia clenched her fists. “Oh…kidneys.” Not quite the word I’d have used, but it worked in a pinch. She turned a fierce glare on Nadia.

  “You might as well hand over those bugbear organs.” The naga smiled broadly. “You won’t have any use for them wherever the Council’s taking you.” She cast a hungry glance at the bags on the table.

  Cordelia responded by pulling several more sacks from her satchel, setting them on the counter, and snapping her fingers over them. A rune jumped from her hand and set the bags ablaze. The impromptu little bonfire shot skyward and caused Nadia to leap back with a cry of alarm.

  “That’s for luring us into a trap,” said Cordelia, “and for trying to make me give you the other kidneys!”

  “We should run,” I advised.

  “Hang on,” said Molly. “I’ve got an idea. Bear with me.” She hurried over to a large barrel marked “basilisk tongues” and climbed onto it.

  “Should I be worried?” I asked Crispin.

  “Probably.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” Molly called out. “The
Council of Scions has infiltrated the Talesend Undermarket, violating the Sacred Non-Intervention Pact of 1254!”

  The crowd murmured in surprise.

  “Their agents are there,” Molly pointed to the three men, who had come together not far from Nadia’s booth. “The grumpy-looking ones. They intend to take me and my friends away as prisoners. But are you all going to stand for that? I think not!” She raised her index finger aloft for emphasis.

  I looked at Cordelia. “Should we stop her?”

  She buried her face in her hands. “It’s too late,” she moaned. “Why do people have to have cousins?”

  “So I, Molly Beaumont, descendant of the Sea Queen Saoirse, Princess of Aegiris, and Senior Girl Guide with a Special Distinction in Aquatic Sports—”

  “What?” I said to Cordelia.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “—call upon you, fellow enchanters and fellow magical creatures, to rise up against tyranny and expel these interlopers! For Talesend!”

  I think this last bit was meant to be a chant for everyone to repeat. Nobody did. One or two people clapped politely.

  A voice spoke from the crowd—a bored, posh-accented drawl I’d hoped never to hear again. “A lovely speech, dear.”

  Cordelia drew in her breath. “Oh, no.”

  The woman stepped into the circle that had cleared around Molly’s barrel. She was tall, with silver hair and a gaunt, angular face. Black robes billowed behind her despite the lack of a breeze down here. In her right hand, she held a long black staff carved with glowing blue runes. She cast her gaze over each one of us in turn, then gave a haughty sniff. “Yes, lovely. Very inspiring. Well done. But I’m afraid, children, that playtime is now over.”

  A growl rumbled deep in my throat. It was her. The woman we’d been running from ever since all of this began.

  “Levesque.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Votes for Mermaids!

  To her credit, Molly didn’t give up easily, even when faced someone as frightening as Madame Levesque. She continued with her rallying speech.