Chapter Ten

It had been weeks since Bev had seen Merv—and as Bev counted them, she felt positively awful she hadn't been out to visit sooner. Granted, her friend lived in a tunnel some ways out of town, and the sheer amount of snow on the ground had made even walking to the miller difficult. But Merv was a dear, and Bev vowed she'd be out to visit more often.

First, though, she toiled through her morning chores, getting the bread rising, the pots ready for the evening's dinner, and even taking a moment to chat with Allen. She decided to keep all mention of potentially illegal, magical sheep to herself for the moment, at least until she knew more about the creatures. But their conversation was yet again short-lived, as the grannies descended upon the blueberry muffins with gusto.

"Will you be coming with us to Alice's to finish up?" Rita asked Bev, licking her fingers.

"Not today," Bev said. "I've got to visit a good friend out of town. And believe it or not, I should be staying closer to the inn than I am. Never know when someone else might come along looking for a room."

Not to mention Bev's gigantic list of chores that had remained untouched since the kids had helped her deep clean the kitchen. There were still floors to wax and walls to wash and curtains to clean and… This newest mystery couldn't have come at a worse time.

"Well, take it easy, dear," Janet said. "Rest is good for the soul."

"I could say the same to you, but you don't seem to need any, either." Bev chuckled. "I take it Alice's barn will be back up today?"

"We'll be taking her sweet horse back with us," Rita said. "Hopefully, Sin won't be lonely by herself."

"She enjoys her silence," Bev said, before looking down at Biscuit. "And don't you go riling her up either. You stay inside and be good."

"You aren't taking Biscuit with you?" Rita asked.

"Er…" The last time Biscuit had gone to Merv's, he'd torn up the place. "No. He's going to stay here and guard the inn for me."

Biscuit let out a ruff and walked to the fire, lying down and going to sleep.

"Well, he'll guard the hearth for me," Bev said with a chuckle as she picked up her glowing stick. "I should be back midday. Better get on before the morning slips away from me."

"What in the world do you need that for?" Gladys asked, nodding to the stick.

"Oh, um… Merv lives a bit out of the way," Bev said. "Best to be prepared."

~

Bev and the grannies parted ways at the front of the inn. The grannies headed west, Alice's horse clopping behind them, while Bev took a northeast turn at the town square. She passed Trent Scrawl's farm, waving at the curmudgeonly farmer who seemed to be preparing his garden for another year of pumpkins to enter into the Harvest Festival competition. That, or he was keeping a wary eye out for his sometimes-nemesis Herman Monday.

Bev kept walking, crossing over hills and unclaimed land out of town until she found the entrance, which was almost completely overgrown. She pulled at the vines and other winter growth until revealing a large tunnel, big enough for a creature about two feet taller than she was. But she still let the glowing stick illuminate her path, lest she trip over an errant root.

Up ahead, Bev spotted the orange door with green shutters at the end of the tunnel. As she drew closer, more of the same mushrooms that dotted her glowing stick illuminated her path. She stuck the stick in the wall and dusted her hands on her shirt. Regrettably, she was coming empty-handed; perhaps she should've brought a loaf of bread or maybe some tea from Etheldra's shop.

No use worrying about that now. She walked up to the door and rapped three times, standing back and waiting. She hadn't told him she'd be coming—did he even get the post?—and she couldn't be sure he was even home.

A loud rustling sound echoed from the other side of the door and it swung open, revealing a mole even larger than Vellora Witzel. He was covered in black fur, with nearly invisible eyes. The tip of his snout was bright pink, and his nose twitched happily as he took her in.

"Bev!" His long claws tapped together. "My goodness, it's been a while. I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Never," Bev said, not actually sure she could forget someone like Merv. "Just been quite cold and snowy up in Pigsend. Surely, you get a little bit of the chill down here?"

"Oh, I heard all about the snowy winter you've been having. Very glad I live down here!" His whiskers bounced. "Come in, come in, I was just putting on a kettle." He paused, looking beyond her. "You didn't bring that little troublemaker, did you?"

"No." Bev smiled. "Biscuit's back at the inn."

"Then make yourself at home!"

Bev walked into the quaint little abode, taking a moment to appreciate the small changes since the last time she'd been there. The curtains were new, now a white lace, along with the blanket on the couch, which was a vibrant red. Bev scanned the room for signs of the tanddaes wool, but Merv didn't have any out.

"I can't wait to hear everything that's gone on since the Harvest Festival," he said, sitting down in the chair opposite Bev.

"Not much has happened over the winter, other than we got a lot of snow," Bev said. "Oh, and the Witzels were blackmailed."

"No!" Merv gasped. "Really? By whom? Because of Ida's magic?"

"Actually, no. Surprisingly, it was quite mundane." Bev didn't know how much Merv knew about the war between queenside and kingside, and he probably didn't know the details about registrars and needing to update service records. "Vellora's wartime record was being held hostage by a perfidious administrator."

"My goodness," he said. "How did you manage to get them out of that one?"

"That story is too long for the time I've got for this visit," Bev said. "Lots to do back at the inn, unfortunately."

"So this isn't just a social visit?" It was hard to tell from his tiny, black eyes, but he looked excited. "Is there another mystery afoot?"

"Well, I can't say I'm not happy to see you," Bev said. "But yes, I had a few questions. Specifically about those creatures called…tanddaes, I think you called them?"

"Don't tell me one's showed up in Pigsend!"

"More than one."

"Oh, please. Spare no detail." He rose and headed into the kitchen. "I'll put on a pot."

"Well, a few nights ago," she began, "Earl, the resident carpenter, his workshop burned down. Now, you know fires happen, but Earl seemed to think something—or someone—was behind it. So he asked me to look into it."

"Naturally," Merv said from the kitchen.

Bev cracked a smile. "He seemed to think a trio of teenagers might be responsible. I talked with them, and, of course they acted guilty, but there wasn't really anything I could do to coax the truth out of them." She smoothed the fabric of the knitted quilt nearby. "I thought, perhaps, someone might've been targeting Earl's workshop to get back at someone he was making furniture for, but that doesn't seem likely now that Alice's barn went down yesterday."

"Another fire?"

"That's the thing," Bev said, leaning forward. "It looked completely different. Like it had been blown down in a nasty storm. And I'd chalk it up to coincidences but—"

"But it seems a bit too related, I agree."

Merv walked out holding a tray with a teapot and two cups. Bev had to school her expression to not gawk at the size of them; the cup was roughly the size of the bowl she used to proof her bread.

"Sugar?" he asked, placing the tray on the table in front of Bev.

"No, thank you." Bev picked up the tea as best she could and took a sip. "Delicious."

"So Alice's barn—is there any connection with Earl's workshop?"

"Not really," Bev said. "She didn't see a soul out there. Could've been the kids, but why would they be all the way on the other side of town?"

"You never know what they might be up to," he said with a sniff. "Children are awful. Glad I never had any."

Bev couldn't imagine what a baby Merv might look like and thought better than to ask. "Well, they're not off my list, but they're not at the top of it anymore."

"Anyone new in town?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Bev took another ginger sip of the tea, finding she needed both hands and a strong grip to lift it. "A trio of interesting ladies. They're…well, they're old. Quirky. Very sweet—seem to have lots of money, too. Hearty appetites. And they've rebuilt both Earl's shop and Alice's barn."

"Hm." Merv sat back. "Do you think they're causing the destruction by accident?"

"I'd say that except they were with me during the first incident," Bev said. "They said they're in town on business but won't say what it is."

"Have you asked them if they know what's going on?"

"Well… no," Bev began slowly. "But somehow, I don't think they'd answer if I asked. They seem to have a way of twisting the conversation. Kind of like Mayor Hendry." Bev paused. "Who had furniture in Earl's workshop and was acting dodgy about it. When I tried to question her, she magicked me and sent me on my way."

"Mayor Hendry has magic?" Earl asked.

Bev nodded. "I think she's an empath or something like it."

"Hm." He picked up a half-finished hat made of bright green yarn and began working on it while keeping his attention on Bev. "That does seem a good sort of magic for a politician. Being able to sway people and bewitch them. No wonder she's stayed in power."

"There was a fellow who stayed at the inn who had a ring with empath powers. Seemed to be similar to what Hendry can do."

"Empaths are rare," Merv said with a nod. "I've only heard of one or two, and that was only a rumor about a kingdom far away. Had a problem with a monster eating them, too, from what I understand."

"Dear me," Bev said. "You don't think we have to worry about that here, do you?"

"Not at all."

"Is there any way I can avoid being taken by her magic?" Bev asked. "It makes questioning her on unpleasant topics quite difficult otherwise."

"You have that laelaps," Merv said. "He's good for helping you keep your head around magic, you know."

"Is he now?"

"Mischievous little devil. But useful. If you ask him to help you, he'll probably do it. Probably do it better if you promise him a slice of bacon."

"Well, I suppose it's worth a try," Bev said. "Do you think Hendry's the cause of all the commotion, though? It doesn't seem to fit with the type of magic she has."

"No, it would be awfully strange, indeed."

Bev nodded. "The only other connection between Alice and Earl is Alice's neighbor Bathilda. Earl had just built her a pen, which is curious because she's a produce farmer. Hasn't had any kind of livestock as far as anyone can remember."

"So you snuck out to her property?"

"She threatened me when I was chasing after Biscuit," Bev said, her cheeks warming. "So I thought maybe she had some creature that might be causing all the problems. Which led me to—"

"The tanddaes!" Merv exclaimed, downing the rest of the tea. "Are you sure that's what it was?"

"Can't say I've ever seen that sort of creature before," Bev said. "And the purple was…well, it looked like that blanket you made for the Harvest Festival." She took a sip of the tea, with much difficulty. "They were bleating like sheep, too, but they looked… Well, they didn't look like sheep."

"Must've been. That coat is unique—part of what makes the creatures so desirable."

"Bathilda's buyer said he was willing to pay her a thousand gold coins," Bev said.

"How many were there?"

"Twenty-five, give or take a few."

"That seems low," Merv said.

"She seemed like she was eager to get rid of them. Maybe the soldiers coming through town made her nervous." Bev chuckled. "Thought she was gonna take Biscuit's head off when she found him on her property."

"I don't blame her. That laelaps is destructive." His whiskers twitched. "Still finding pieces of half-chewed blankets all over the house. And the fur! I thought I shed, but there's golden fur everywhere."

Bev knew that all too well. "The buyer said he was taking them to… Lower Pigsend, I think?" She tilted her head. "Is that anywhere near here?"

"Oh yes!" Merv's whiskers twitched. "It's out the front door."

"F—" Bev turned toward the door she'd walked in. "Front door?"

"Oh, dear Bev, that's the back door." He laughed as if she were the silly one. "The front door is right there."

Bev turned to where he pointed, and, almost as if water was stilling on a lake, a door appeared. She blinked, turning back toward what she considered the front door, then back to this new one that shimmered a little as she watched it. Either Merv didn't notice or he was used to it, because he didn't say anything about the strangeness.

"I see." Bev nodded slowly. "I suppose it's not frequented by Her Majesty's soldiers?"

"They don't even know it exists," he said. "Lots of the creatures who used to live on the surface moved into town. Magical creatures, you know. A tanddaes wouldn't be thought of twice."

"Bathilda seemed to want the sheep gone. Said they were causing problems for her neighbors," Bev said. "Which is why I wanted to ask… Is there any way they're responsible? They don't breathe fire or anything like that, do they?"

"Fire?" He chuckled. "Not really. They eat grass and grow pretty wool. That's about…well, that's about it for them."

Bev sat back. "Well, that's disappointing."

"Why do you say that?"

"Earl said the way the fire burned in his workshop was too quick to be just wood. He thought there was an accelerant—initially thought it was the spirits he used to dissolve the lacquer he puts on the furniture he makes." Bev drummed her fingers on the cup. "But maybe we are looking at two separate things. Alice's barn hadn't burned down. It was just in pieces, like something had blown it down. And I can't find a connection between Earl and Alice, unless you count Bathilda. They're on opposite sides of town, too."

"Hm." He started a new row on his bright green hat. "Well, I can say definitively the tanddaes aren't capable of that kind of destruction. If you're looking for a creature to be the culprit, it wouldn't be them."

"Do you think it's a creature?" Bev asked.

"Well, I can't say I see a reason for an intelligent person to be destroying barns and workshops all over town."

"Any idea what it could be?"

He let out a low thoughtful noise. "Well, the tanddaes themselves are full of magic—as is their wool. It's why it's in such high demand. Was there magic in Earl's workshop?"

"Yes, actually. Mayor Hendry had given him some resin to put on her chairs," Bev said. "When I sniffed it, it seemed to be that same heady magic she has." She snapped her fingers. "Not to mention Alice's barn sits on the magical river that flows under Pigsend."

"Two very magical places." His nails clicked together as he worked another row. "High concentrations of magic tend to attract magical things—both intelligent and otherwise. I think whatever you're looking for has magic of some kind."

"That doesn't really narrow it down much."

He chuckled. "It narrows it down plenty! At least you know you're looking for something with magic instead of something without." He switched the blanket around and began knitting again. "Simply rule out anyone who doesn't have magic, and your suspect list will be much smaller."

"The kids don't have magic, most likely. I don't think Bathilda does either, though she's certainly surrounded by it." Bev sighed. "Are you sure the tanddaes don't breathe fire or sprout wings or something like that?"

"Not to my knowledge. And my knowledge is quite extensive." He smiled, as best he could with his long snout and pink nose. "Soon enough another piece will emerge, and you'll have more information that might illuminate your culprit better."

"Hopefully not," Bev said. "We don't need any more buildings going down in Pigsend."

"You have to break a few eggs sometimes." He tapped his long nose. "If you do find out more, come visit? I miss our chats." His whiskers twitched. "And I wouldn't say no to another loaf of that award-winning bread of yours, either."

"I'll make a few extra, just for you."