Jak Barley-Private Inquisitor and the Case of the Seven Dwarves (23 page)

"Some vile sect that Mother has heard lives in a parallel firmament."

"And here I thought it be my personal charm and wit that won her over," I said.

"Does that often happen?" she asked.

"What?"

"Win them over."

"Witches?"

"Women as a whole," Morgana patiently responded as she arched her brows.

"Not often enough."

"How often do you need?"

"Is there such a thing as too often?"

"Maybe," she said and attempted to duplicate her mother's haughtiness.

We turned into a sitting room that was almost comfortable. Who knows what degenerate purposes the priests of Dorga had used it for? The peaceful mood set by the overstuffed chairs, thick rugs, rich oil paintings, and cheerful blaze in the fireplace was slightly spoiled by the tortured and twisted figures carved into the mantel.

Morgana noticed where my attention had drifted. "I have told Mother we should do something about the carvings, but she seems to enjoy them."

A tall, skeletal servant brought us trays of wine and cheese. I tried to relax and enjoy this easy time with Morgana, but my mind kept drifting to how the dwarves would take a visit from the woman they blamed for Frost Ivory's malady. We made small talk as we savored the refreshments. I especially liked the mold cheese from the herdsmen of the Nuwton Plains.

"There is a story that a conflagration spell cast by a Ghennison Viper Mage was reflected back, incinerating the wizard to ashes. Is it true that any spell cast upon you will rebound to the one flinging the incantation?" I heard Morganna ask in a low voice not meant to carry beyond the couple's ears. "I must admit it seems so implausible I have been tempted to test this shield."

"Why don't you try a love beguilement and see what happens?" Lorenzo replied.

She laughed at that. "My sources are too dependable for me to risk myself. If I were to verify your ward, I would find some feeble-minded trollop with just enough competence to work a simple bewitchment. That would be an entertaining experiment. But I do not believe you need amorous enchantments to attract females."

I met Morgana's glance and we both rolled our eyes.

"I do not think I can endure watching my mother act the coquettish widow," she whispered then said loudly, "Mummsie, shouldn't we soon be off to see the dwarves?"

"I have told you what I think of such an endearment," Morganna replied then spoke to Lorenzo. "Children can be such an affliction, but I suppose we should go. I did promise your young friend I would try and help."

I finished the last of my wine and spoke loudly to Morgana, "Shouldn't we first see this gift my friend has brought your mother?"

"Why, yes. Having long heard of Master Spasm's wide travels, I am sure it must be quite exotic," the witch agreed.

I could not help smirking. Morgana noticed and looked questioningly at me then at her mother.

The witch began unwrapping the gift and soon sat with tatters of paper on her lap like some nest and the clock a strange chick. She stared at the gift as if not quite believing her eyes.

Now Lorenzo was going to get a well-deserved coming down, I thought. Where did he think she would hang such a monstrosity--there next to the fifteenth Era oil by VanZinck? He might be immune to the witch's curses, but that would have to hurt if she whacked it over his head.

The witch took the clock in her hands and with what could only be described as gently, lifted the bug-eyed cat from her lap. Morgana and I were both holding our breaths.

"It is beautiful," the witch sighed.

I give up. From now on I won't care if Lorenzo invests a fortune in elk snot. I will believe he will come out smelling like a bouquet of honey mints.

She looked up and Lorenzo and asked, "How did you know?"

He gave his familiar enigmatic shrug. I looked in confusion at my company. Morgana smiled and patted my hand. Her mother was also smiling and placed the kitschy clock on a low table next to her chair.

"I once had such a timepiece in my sleeping room as a child," Morganna softly spoke when she observed my bewilderment. "It was the last gift my father presented me before he disappeared."

I scrutinized Lorenzo with a suspicious sidelong glance. It was a gallant move on my friend's part, but it worried me what he might know about my childhood. He better not bring up any of my numerous youthful indiscretions in front of Morgana. Lorenzo caught my gaze and smiled back innocently as if he were reading my thoughts.

I turned back to the witch. If she questioned how her new acquaintance was privy to such intimate childhood chronicles, she was not showing it.

"Well, I guess it is time to visit the dwarves," I purposely broke the mood before Lorenzo disturbed me with something else. He was up a point with Morganna and it was time to quit while we were ahead.

"You are right, Master Barley," Morganna agreed and pulled on a velvet cord that dangled from the mouth of an ornate brass fixture resembling a tortured lost soul. It appeared to be part of the original décor--I hoped. No doubt the cord rang a chime somewhere off in the bowels of the former Dorga temple. It was but only a moment and the same tall, skeletal servant appeared at the doorway.

"Ready the carriage," the witch ordered then turned to Lorenzo. "I doubt we could all fit on your cart. I assume your other novel coach is busy. I have heard it is now in high demand after last night's affair."

"I believe Jak's comrade's should be quite successful in their new venture," Lorenzo replied. "My friend's benevolence towards the downtrodden is one of his finer points."

"Yes, that is what I found endearing about Jak when we first met," Morgana agreed with a straight face.

I wanted to smack both of them. I would have given anything to wipe the smirk from Lorenzo's face. Morganna gazed at me as if examining one of Olmsted's laboratory specimens and I forced myself not to squirm under her cool appraisal.

I wasn't completely successful in trying to believe the witch's sincerity when she commented, "Yes, a fine trait in a young man."

I got the feeling that even if benevolence was a word that came to her mind for someone of my questionable reputation, it was not an attribute Morganna commonly held in high regard.

We were escorted out the massive doors by a small army of servants. An unassuming black carriage waited at the bottom of the lengthy flight of steps. It was drawn by a pair of well-groomed horses with manes and tails tightly braided.

The trip to the dwarves' dwelling was uneventful. Lorenzo and Morganna spoke of people and incidents of which I was unfamiliar. Morgana sat closely by my side, though it was difficult to enjoy that small intimacy with her mother sitting straight across from me. I was also worried how the dwarves would take to a visit by the witch they believed was the source of Frost Ivory's plight.

"I wonder how Mika is faring," I said to Morgana as my thoughts were drawn to the previous evening's events. "It seems strange he took off so abruptly."

"He is a man of mystery. I believe he only accepted my invitation so as to connect with the local royal bloods," Morgana mused out loud. "I believe he is on some kind of quest."

"Quest?" I asked in puzzlement. "He seemed to be just out enjoying himself before having to return to his dismal backwoods estate."

"If that is the case, why then leave the company of such a charming and lovely person as myself?" Morgana replied in a flirtatious voice.

"There is that," was all I could say. I found it impossible to banter with Mother watching on.

"It's because he is distracted by something else. He has been asking the oddest questions about town," she answered her own question in a more serious voice.

"Such as?"

"Such as about you and your current case with the dwarves."

I thought back to our conversation in the hearse. He had seemed interested in Frost Ivory, but no more than anyone would have of such an odd tale.

"And so you graciously invited both of us to the ball. You could have mentioned this to me earlier," I lightly scolded.

"But, Jak, you are a trained private inquisitor. I would have thought you would have deduced this from his questions."

"I normally would have, but I was distracted by your charm and beauty."

"Ah, Mother, see why I am taken with Jak. He is such a gallant."

"Hm-m-m," was Morganna's only response.

"Your daughter is quite perceptive. Not many can see what lies beneath Jak's purposely-maintained facade of self-indulgence and sloth. Most would presume him to be only a wastrel dominated by a number of vile vices," Lorenzo interjected.

"Thank you, Lorenzo. It must be because we are quite alike in that way. Most would see you only as a pretentious bore and scoundrel. I am sure Morganna with her insightfulness would be able to distinguish your very well hidden good traits if given enough time."

"Now boys, play nice," Morganna commanded, though it appeared our banter amused her.

We rode in silence for a few minutes before I gathered the courage to question Morganna about the subject of another incident from the past evening. "Have you had time to question the vampire you, ah, so graciously invited into you home last night?"

This time Morganna's upturn of the lips sent shivers down my back. I hope never to see such a smile in response to any query dealing with myself.

"We had a very enjoyable and productive chat early this morning. You can rest easy about his part in last night's little drama. There was no conspiracy involving you--just a tiresome vampire who couldn't keep his appetite appropriately controlled in a social setting. He will no longer be troubling polite company."

I was not going to ask what she considered appropriate behavior for a vampire in a nonsocial setting--not of someone whose idea of an enjoyable morning was interrogating a vampire to the point of its apparent demise. Vampires are tougher than cockroaches. But at least that meant one less character in a cast of dozens bent on my own demise.

Chapter Fourteen

The sudden halt of the carriage announced our arrival. Lorenzo and I exited first then assisted the women to the flower-draped gate entrance of the front yard. Almost immediately the two rabbits from my first visit exited a clump of bushes holding paws and apparently oblivious to our arrival. At least I guessed it was the same doe-eyed bunnies since the missus was wearing a similar apron and bonnet.

Upon spotting the two women, they daintily curtsied, which elicited a bemused "ah-h-h" from Morgana. Turning to Lorenzo, they duplicated the greeting. They both froze after turning further and sighting me. The pair hopped straight into the air, spun, ran back to the bush, and replicated an earlier paw gesture before disappearing.

There was a moment of silence as my companions reflected on the scene before looking at me with slightly astonished and suspicious consternation.

"Did those rabbits just give you the finger?" asked Lorenzo in feigned reproach.

Morgana continued staring at me as if she had just found out I was an axe murder. Her mother, on the other hand, was looking as if I had suddenly done something of worthy note.

"Ah, it is just a little joke between us," I stammered.

"No, I think they really detest you," Lorenzo said with obvious delight. "What could you have ever done to gain the abhorrence of such a cute pair of little, harmless bunnies?"

"So, it be the ferret," the hoarse voice of a dwarf thankfully interrupted our conversation. "It be about time you get back to work."

"I'll tell you about it later," I mumbled to Morgana before turning to one of my seven clients. "That is private inquisitor, Snot. I brought some help in solving Frost Ivory's malady."

"This ain't going to cost us a consultant's fee, is it?" he growled in his usual rude voice.

Snot opened the gate door and immediately melted when he spied the witch's daughter. His normal scowl was transformed into a beaming smile and he performed an exaggerated bow. These insufferable dwarves think they are such charmers when it comes to women.

Morgana smiled in return and greeted him with, "How do you do, Snot. I am very pleased to meet you."

The little creep melted even more.

"I would like to introduce you to Morganna," I cut in with more bluntness than I had planned. So much for tact.

It had the expected effect. Snot went rigid for several seconds then shouted, "You, you. Why bring this witch near Frost Ivory. Has not she done enough harm? Whose side be you on, you traitorous ferret?"

Snot looked as if he were gathering up air for another bellow then suddenly he let out a long wheezing breath. "But this can not be the witch, she be way too young and comely. Morganna is a vile, ugly old crone."

"You are correct, dwarf," came a chilling voice behind me. "I am the vile, ugly old crone."

The announcement produced no replay of his outburst. Morganna had him in her frostbite glare and Snot turned a sickly pallor beneath his coating of coal dust. I waited for the dwarf to stutter some feeble reply, but it appeared for once he was speechless.

"I am here as a favor to Master Jak," Morganna broke the silence. "I will not suffer such impudence when I come to help you miserable little runtlings. I have nothing to do with the disorder plaguing your insipid Frost Ivory. If I wanted to inflict grief upon her, I would have devised a more ingenious affliction than a simple slumber."

Snot nodded weakly. "I will warn, ah, inform my brothers of your call." He then spun and beat a hasty retreat to the cottage.

"I wish you would have been here when I was haggling my fee," I said then added when I saw her glare focus on me, "Not that you would ever take part in such a mundane bartering."

We walked leisurely to the cottage. Morgana paused several times to lean into one of the many gaudy blossoms along the patch and inhaled deeply. I could hear discordance in the voices through the open door. It stopped as we entered and the dwarves stood as if impersonating their inanimate yard ornaments, some with mouths gapingly stupidly open--but all in wide-eyed terror.

Morgana immediately greeted them in her most disarming manner. "We are here to help you with your Frost Ivory. If anyone can ascertain what curse or malady has befallen your maiden, my mother can."

If anything was to convince me that Morgana was not a flake off the old slab, it was this spontaneous move to reassure the dwarves. I stole a quick glance at her concerned expression and reminded myself this was not the time to be thinking of whether or not I was falling in love with a witch's daughter.

"So, if you are ready, take us to Frost Ivory," I moved to regain control of the situation.

I had to admit their silence and quick obedience was refreshing after my other visits with the dwarves. They led us out a side door to where the glass coffin rested on a large pedestal beneath an apple tree.

Once again I was taken by her pale beauty. The dwarves' mission of safeguarding the maiden brought back their courage and they stood in a protective circle about the crystal casement. Morganna glided through their ranks and looked down upon the girl. I expected the witch to wave her hands above the maiden in some arcane, ritualized motions--or maybe have her eyes roll up in her head like the fortunetellers in the more disreputable outskirts of Duburoake. She instead stood in silent repose gazing thoughtfully at the maiden.

"She has been cursed by a Ghennison Viper Mage," she abruptly stated.

I slapped my hand to my head. I had completely forgotten the parchment and the similar deduction made by Klis Klesster. With all the recent agitations, I was if suffering a senile dementia.

"I will have to search my library for the knowledge of such a spell, if it is to be found at all. The mages keep such secrets close to their lairs," Morganna pronounced.

"Ah, like this," I stammered as I reached into my pouch and pulled out Klesster's parchment.

Morganna took it impatiently from my hand. She obviously did not expect a lowly private inquisitor to possess such an esoteric document. Her eyes widened and any other time I would have been pleased to have surprised Morgana's mother.

Morganna seemed never to tire of her frigid stares. I, on the other hand, was growing weary of being the recipient.

"Ah, I was just waiting a second opinion," I feebly answered her unspoken question.

"But this is just half of the runes, where is the rest?"

I gathered myself together and replied, "You do not think I would carry such an important parchment around in its entirety?"

"Yes."

I tried outwaiting the witch, but finally surrendered under her fixed stare. "It is with a friend for safe keeping."

She continued her glowering while absentmindedly fingering the partial parchment.

"There is nothing we can do without the rest of this curse. I suggest you obtain it as quickly as possible," Morganna finally spoke. "The Ghennison Viper Mage who placed this spell must also be aware of our visit. With the fear of us lifting the curse, he may attempt more drastic mischief than just deep slumber.

"I can easily deal with your trifling Reverian Assassins, but Ghennison Viper mages would sorely test even my powers. I recommend, Master Barley, that you be swift in your retrieval of the spell. I suggest Lorenzo and I wait here while you recover the other half."

I could hardly believe the witch was obviously admitting she regarded anyone her equal in such arts. But Morganna was no fool. She knew my friend would give her an added advantage. Lorenzo had twice trounced two of the sorcerers.

Walking to Lorenzo's side, I softly spoke, "Ah, Lorenzo, could I possibly borrow a couple marks?"

He laughed. "Just tell Klis to put it on my bill."

I sighed, not about to ask him how he knew where I had gotten the manuscript.

"Just how did you come upon this curse?" Morgana asked once we were in the witch's coach. "My mother said the mages are a very secretive assemblage and go to great lengths to see such knowledge does not fall into the hands of outsiders."

"Oh, we private inquisitors have our ways," I answered mysteriously, though she would find out soon enough when we arrived at Klis Klester's manuscript shop. "One has to have numerous connections in the profession, though some are of a sinister and dubious social standings frowned upon by the society you are used to mingling among, I am sure."

She laughed. "You are so full of bullshit."

"What? I am full of what?"

"Bullshit. That is what I heard your friend, Lorenzo, say."

"About me?"

"Maybe," she laughed again.

"I am not sure a young lady such as you should be associating with blackguards like Lorenzo if you are taking up such speech. What will your mother think? She may not want you keeping company with someone who claims such disreputable friends."

"I am thinking that having such a companion as Master Spasm is a boon with my mother. She seems to be quite taken with him."

"There is that," I admitted, only partially involved with our conversation. My mind was paying just half attention to our banter. The other half was spellbound by the way her full, sumptuous lips formed their words. There were also a number of other physical attributes fogging my thoughts that I fought in vain to ignore. If only we were not in the coach of a powerful witch driven by a henchman who no doubt would relay all that occurred to his mistress. I could see why Morgana might have trouble finding admirers.

"Though being a progressive maiden, I am not one to be overly concerned with what my mother thinks," she broke into my thoughts.

"That may be easy for you to say as her beloved daughter. I believe the same cannot be said for a suitor," I replied in a sincerity I had not meant to admit.

"So, Jak Barley, you are saying you look upon yourself as a suitor? Am I to believe a self-professed rogue as yourself is--"

Our conversation was roughly terminated as if by a monstrous hammer. The blow sent the carriage hurtling off its wheels and sending it to drag on its side for a couple dozen feet. Dazed by the impact after being tossed about to finally land in a heap upon Morgana, I felt like a hooked carp cruelly yanked from the water to be slammed to the bottom of a fisherman's skiff.