CHAPTER ELEVEN
A HEAPING HELPING
“JAIL!”
Carter tried to explain. “I’d hoped to get him out before anybody noticed, but it seems not.” He held his phone, face out, to us.
We all leaned forward to take in the picture on the phone, a mug shot pose, with Brian looking scuffed up and outraged, with an even angrier professor glaring out of those aquamarine eyes.
I reacted. “Holy moly. Good thing he doesn’t have his blasting stick.”
The stick in question rested depleted in his bedroom. He occasionally took it out while we studied, and I could see the clear crystal in the handle which had turned completely obsidian and useless in our last battle progressed, degree by degree, clearing to a charcoal but far from the diamond-like beauty it had been. I found it encouraging that the infamous weapon could be regenerating, but the professor growled every time I suggested it. The last time I saw the cane, he had it resting as a bookmark in the creases of the Remedies book that I’d brought out of his scorched library. Talk about breaking the spine of a book! That nonchalance about one of his tomes made me even more certain he must have returned to his study to ferret out more of his research titles, regardless of the fact the house remained taped off and out of bounds. It hadn’t stopped me, and I knew it wouldn’t slow him.
“What happened and where?”
“Early this morning, according to reports, at his place. I found out about it around noon while working another case and have been trying to intervene without being obvious about interfering. It’s not been easy; he has a number of people very upset.”
“The professor? Never.”
Carter wrinkled his nose at me and my sarcasm. “He got into a fight early this morning with an arson inspector. Arson has been cleared, but the other fire officials didn’t get by so easily. He’s charged with aggravated assault and battery.”
“Why?”
“They tried to escort him off the premises and explain that the lot will be bulldozed next week so the insurance agency can begin with rebuilding. They insisted on it being too dangerous to enter, and he insisted on going in to retrieve his items. Acting on public safety, they tried to restrain him. Of course, he doesn’t wish the building knocked down before he’s done with it. I’m told he reacted very aggressively.”
“Whoa.” I knew Brian could throw a wicked punch if he had to, and the professor had the crusty personality that would provoke it. “Wow. Can we get him out of that?”
“He assaulted a city worker who was doing his job. It seemed to have been quite a brawl.”
I huffed and thought for a few seconds. “If the prof was in his own body, we could plead diminished capacity or old man distress and goofiness or something, but not looking like Brian.”
“Actually, we still can. There is a great deal of stress in being shipped off to a foreign country and relative and then losing nearly everything in a fire.”
“Oh. Is that what you’re doing?” I watched Carter’s expression.
“Trying to. There are a few others who’d found out he’s been jailed and would like to block that, at least long enough to sift through the ashes themselves.” Carter wouldn’t quite meet my gaze.
“Society?”
Simon grunted softly. “Of course. Who else? I might do it, too, but I’ve chosen a different alignment this time around. So.” He put his hands palms down on either side of his now empty plate. “Looks like we do a bit of looting ourselves.”
Carter elaborated. “We’re going to have to go in and recover what we can and store it here, until we can find a property easier to ward. We can’t hesitate on this.”
Hiram scratched his temple. “The basement here would hold. We built in safeguards, just in case, hrmmm, Tessa might need them someday. A so-called safe room.”
We’d been rejecting Aunt April’s house out of hand for weeks, but this changed everything. “Really? But you didn’t tell me!”
He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “You don’t strike me as the kind of lass who thinks she needs to be protected.”
“Well, I don’t, but magic stuff.” I shrugged. “That’s a whole ’nother thing, right?”
“So it would seem.”
Simon asked of Hiram, “What did you do?”
“Trade secrets, Steptoe, but I do suggest you don’t go down there unless you must. You might become very uncomfortable.”
“Oh.” He looked aggrieved. “That really wasn’t necessary.”
“Not against you, but you do keep company with odd fellows.”
Steptoe fell silent, his chin down.
Scout put his paw on my thigh, and I slipped a bread corner down to him, complete with a sliver of ham. “Back to the house in question. Can we get in now or is the place surrounded by the SWAT team?”
“We wouldn’t use the SWAT team, but yes, we can get in. I’ll have permission to retrieve what few valuables are left.” He checked the face of his phone. “I should have received notification already.”
Hiram tapped his fingernails on the arm of his chair, sounding like a miniature hammer at work. “Then we go with or without permission. Our first duty tonight, before we consider how and who to approach over the Eye. Immediate actions outweigh the planned campaign.”
“Agreed.”
The men all got to their feet at once, bringing Scout up with them, the pup evidently having some idea that the game was afoot. I stood up much more slowly. “Before we charge out the door, guys, I need to tell Mom we’re going.”
Simon tugged on the hem of his coat and bowed. “Most certainly, ducks. We’ll be at the curb.” I could hear the English accent in his words.
Mom sat at her laptop, reading glasses slid down to perch almost at the end of her nose, blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that had fallen to the nape of her neck and then coiled around one shoulder. Looking at her, I caught a momentary glimpse of what she’d looked like maybe twenty years ago and why Dad had thought her pretty. She still was, if older. I wonder if she saw Dad when she looked at me. She held a finger up, pushed the save button, and smiled at me. “Meeting over?”
“We have to go salvage what we can of the professor’s library. The building is coming down completely soon. Can I use our moving boxes?”
“Of course.” She flexed a hand. “Is there much left?”
“Not really. We thought we’d stow it in the basement.”
“Okay. Then I won’t be alarmed when I hear you all stomping about.”
I leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’ll try and keep ’em quiet so you can work. Later, gator.”
She began typing again, and as I left the room, I thought I faintly heard, “After a while . . .”
We had three cars to utilize: my little Corolla, Hiram’s SUV, and Carter’s plainclothes sedan. All had fairly good trunk space, but we piled the empty boxes into Hiram’s vehicle, along with two tape guns and two extra rolls of tape. Having just moved, well, a little over two years ago, I had a fairly good idea how to make boxes out of flattened cardboard and all the tape required to do so. It’s an art. Really.
Scout stayed at home, after a little protest and bribery with doggie treats.
Steptoe asked to ride with me. As soon as the car doors closed and we sat alone, he said, “All right, ducks. The tell-tales told me you told them you needed to speak with me privately. What is happening?”
“A little reconnaissance, private, is required.”
“Oh. You, me, an’ who else?”
“Evelyn Statler.”
“That rich gal you and me rescued last spring?”
“That would be the one.”
He considered my words. “Who are we spying on?”
“I’m not totally sure who they are, but it’s the Silverbranch Academy.”
A pause while he thought. Then, “What about them aren’t you sure of, and what are we looking for?”
“I think they might be Society, or in league with them at least, because they came out of nowhere and are interested in my academics. Listen, I have good grades and all that, but I’m no blooming genius, yet they’re suggesting I consider transferring. I could lose college credits doing it, and I’ve no good reason to even try.” I held my left hand up. “I think word about the maelstrom stone has spread.”
“Does them no good if they try to force it from you.”
I started the car and put it into gear. “I’m hoping they know that. I have no desire to lose a hand over this.”
“You won’t if me or Carter are with you.” He fastened his seat belt hastily as the warning bell began to sound. “I won’t say you’re right about Silverbranch, but I won’t say you’re wrong, neither. But if you’re worried, why are you going there?”
“Because I think someone there knows about Germanigold.”
“Bloody ’ell—she’s that close?”
“Possibly.”
“Her nest is in Maryland, not far from DC. I was just beginning to think we’d have to traipse all the way up there again.” He looked pale.
“You don’t like long trips.”
He wiped his forehead. “Some of us, not all mind you, but some of us have centers. Centers which keep us close and are not wise to wander too far from.”
“And where is your center?”
“Here, in Richmond.” He turned his head to stare out the window, and I sensed he wouldn’t say another word.
“I was hoping,” and I turned the corner carefully, “that you would tail me and Evelyn the way only you can do, without being seen and all that, while we snoop around.” He’d gone all the way to New York with us, and I hadn’t noticed him in trouble then, but he’d been rather pale and tired since. Helping pull Evelyn out of trouble could have weighed on him further. How did a lesser demon recharge, anyway?
“It’s a good thing the professor is in jail.”
“You think?” He never would have allowed me to go hunting after Goldie. We pulled up in the professor’s darkened driveway as night began to close seriously about us. I checked to make sure I’d gotten the lights switched off.
“He would have a conniption if he thought you was poking your nose into Society matters like, especially where Goldie is concerned. Now, it’s not that he doesn’t trust her, but he feels a bit guilty about letting Mortimer down and all that, not to mention the Society itself, if they took her, did so as bait.”
“You don’t think they took her for the Eye?”
“’Twasn’t known on the streets that she had the Eye till recently, if at all. Which means she likely weren’t taken for that, but now she might be leveraged for it. Tricksy folk will use every advantage they have.” Steptoe unbuckled his seat belt and got ready to bail. “And, luv, you’d better make darn sure you don’t get added to that when we go in to look. You cannot allow yourself to be taken.”
“You’ll come with us?”
“I daren’t not, one way or t’other. Come on, now, we’ve work.”
I made up boxes, a good dozen of them, while the others set up light stands with flashlights and a few other, magical, considerations. Orbs of illumination are not a tremendous amount of help without walls, ceilings, and such to reflect their light upon, but they’re better than nothing. Carter’s police-issue flashlight had the strongest and widest beam, so they set it up in the study itself, and we hauled the boxes into what had once been a hallway where they sat to be loaded.
Before going into what was left of the room, Carter put up a hand. “Parts of this area are still warded, but it’s an intricate working that I haven’t time to unwind and, frankly, we’re bound to set off a trap or two.” He tapped each of us on the head. “Protection ward. Actually, more of a deflection. The trap will still go off, but hopefully next to you or behind you. So, freeze and then duck if you set anything off.”
We went into the room one by one, sending Hiram in first to test floor strength, knowing that all of us might collapse what was left of the fragile building, especially with the weighty bulk of an Iron Dwarf. After a few minutes I couldn’t smell the soot and char anymore, although I sneezed every time we cleared a shelf. Hiram found himself a good, solid spot in the corner, where two great bookcases intersected, and began to unload whatever whole or decent remains of manuscripts could be found. I cleared a shelf of charcoal briquettes, basically, with two crisp pamphlets the only items left. I couldn’t sit on the floor, so I settled for squatting, but when I tried to move away, my left hand went to the shelf and stayed there. I tried to tug myself loose and couldn’t. The maelstrom stone might have been Thor’s legendary hammer, fastened in place. I couldn’t move it away but I could push it deeper along the shelf. Pondering, I tapped it. A hollow sound answered me.
I balled my stubborn fist up and crashed it into the back of the bookcase. My knuckles stung as my hand sank into a hollow, but now the stone would let me pull back. I cleared the splintered boards away from the hole as I did. A row of spines met my eyes.
A whole hidden bookshelf sat behind the first. And it was full of items. Books, rings, crystals. Not a lot, maybe a dozen, but a potential treasure trove. I wondered if the professor had remembered them, and if he had, why he hadn’t gotten them out?
Or, for all I knew, every bookcase in the room was a façade for the real thing. I looked over my shoulder to see that everyone had stopped working to see what I’d done.
“Should have guessed.” Steptoe began working on his shelves as they emptied, but he found nothing similar.
Hiram, though, found two solid display cases at the foot of each bookcase in his area. And a ward.
Behind him, the floor exploded as he stood on the brink, tipping dangerously backward. Carter leaped across and steadied him. Steptoe and I grabbed boxes and the two tossed relics to us, which we promptly packed. Four additional crates’ worth of goodies sat near the fire-shadowed threshold when we finished.
We got five more salvaged boxes out. I set off a ward that sent arrows thhhping through the air, narrowly missing Carter’s broad shoulders. Steptoe tripped another, but he threw his jacket on it and all we heard was a muffled boom as his jacket billowed up in the air. He caught it, shook it out, and put it back on. Then he did a slow turn on his heels. “Looks like we’re done.”
Indeed, it did, as the flashlight beam wavered on the room, and shadows jumped up and down to catch the light. Carter thumped a hand on the end of the massive desk. “Except for this.”
The great oak monstrosity crouched there like a mammoth animal, ready to stampede if angered. I blinked at it. A certain familiarity tugged at memories of dreams.
“Surely, the professor would have gone through that first.”
“Who knows? I can see someone’s been through here, but we’ve boxed up a lot, so that someone must have been awfully picky.”
“Or looking for something in particular,” Hiram offered.
“Or that.”
“We’ve all set off a trap. Are we still protected?”
Carter considered. I could see him reaching back in his mind before he inclined his chin. “Another fifteen minutes or so.”
I wondered how he calculated that. Not by sunset or moonrise. Maybe the protection he’d set on us had its own limit, and he’d divided that by the four of us. An uneasy shiver crawled down my spine. I don’t like having to depend on something I know very little about.
We gathered around the desk. Hiram did a quick survey for hidden drawers and panels by judging the various depths and hollows of the structure. He did find one hidden drawer, lined in dark velvet when he pulled it out, but it was empty. I couldn’t tell what had been stashed in there although there were indents on the fabric.
Carter looked, and his eyes narrowed. “Bones,” he muttered. “And what would the old guy be doing with bones?”
“A valued pet, mayhap,” Steptoe answered. “Who knows?” He pulled a file drawer out which divulged a stash of empty hanging folders. Whatever had been filed there then did not reside there now.
We got down to the last center drawer, long and short in depth: the pencil drawer, it’s often called. It yielded a map, which Carter took carefully and wrapped one of the empty folders about it for protection.
Hiram checked his watch as did Steptoe. Hiram wore his on his wrist, one of the shiny metallic tech innovation watches, while Steptoe took his out of a vest pocket, on its chain, and flipped the cover open. What each found on their timepiece, they didn’t say.
Carter wiped his hands on his trousers. “I’d say we’ve done all we could.”
“Without knowing all the nooks and crannies, I agree.”
“We can’t just let them knock the place down.”
Warm and strong, Carter’s hand rested on my shoulder and squeezed a little. “We don’t have much say in that. This is a battle we’ve won, here, and that will have to do. I should be able to get Brian out tomorrow morning and he’s going to have to make a last stand to be allowed to search the ruins. I know he doesn’t remember much, but someone’s been through here and we have to hope it was him.”
Scout met us at my back door, butt wiggling as much as the tail wagged, and he followed us in and out each trip we took with a box. I taped them shut and stacked them in the far corner of the basement. He snuffled them, sneezing as he did, and then sat and looked at me.
“I know. They belong to the professor and may be important. There may even be something in there to help me get my dad back.”
One of the boxes fell off its stack, startling the pup, who flinched and skittered away. I picked it up and put it back. “I know, Dad, I know. We’re working on it.”
I left the basement while a cool breeze swept around me in an ethereal hug and Scout looked warily over his golden shoulder.
The others had left already, but Steptoe waited in the kitchen, dusting bits of dust and lint off his dapper suit coat. He looked up.
“Now we go back.”
“What?”
“There’s something there that only one of my ilk could sense, and it’s waiting for us.”
“Ummmm . . .”
“Coming or not?” he challenged as he plucked my car keys off the table.