Sweet Nothings Page 10

  “Nan, why don’t I see the same things as Claire when I put on the goggles?” Tad made his eyes as large as possible to elicit as much sympathy as the gesture might get.

  “Your heart, dear.”

  “Is hers defective, then?” He knew it.

  “Even with the goggles you may only see what your heart has the capacity to see. Claire already believed there was more to the rocs than beasts with wicked appetites, so she was able to accept something about them that you could not.”

  “And that is why I am on the brink of solving this case,” Claire’s voice called out from behind them.

  Like honeyed ham and hotcakes she was. Tad wasn’t about to let a mad scientist show him up. “I am on the brink of solving the case,” he replied.

  “How’s that?”

  “You will see.”

  Claire’s head popped up from behind the bookcase. “You haven’t any idea, have you? Still trying to figure out why true love’s kiss didn’t work?” She grinned at him and put on a contemplative air. “How sad.”

  Tad magicked himself out of the library and back to his cottage at once. He had been entirely mistaken when he thought earlier that Claire was pretty or quite pretty or whatever that misguided sentiment had been. The woman was practically a dragon.

  And he was in the mood for kisses and butterflies, not fire and brimstone. Roselle would be wanting her new gift, too. He resolved not to think about Claire or her ravenous beasts or her blue-green-goggle-eyed experiments at all.

  He pulled a piece of fruit out of his pocket and turned it round against the sunlight peeking in through his sitting room window. A gift basket would be perfect for the dozen morsels he had managed to scrounge. He rummaged through his cupboard until he found the perfect container, a small picnic basket he had often used when he ate his lunch alone in the field and watched Roselle. Its bowels were the right dimension for the intended contents, the handle a fine fit for Roselle’s dainty hand, no damage to the wickerwork. An ivory napkin was just the thing to line it. This item he found neatly folded in his kitchen drawer and in no time at all he had the perfect presentation for his ladylove.

  Although there were only nine pieces of fruit after all. Funny, he could have sworn there were twelve.

  It was perfect, anyhow. He cocked his head, gave the contents of his basket one last look of approval, and closed the lid.

  Roselle he found in the center of town with her entourage, as expected, the four of them just exiting a shop and exclaiming over their new ribbons.

  “You should have bought the pink,” Roselle told her dark-haired companion. “A lady is always fashionable in rose. Puce, on the other hand—”

  “But I like it,” the raven-headed one replied and thrust out her lower lip.

  “Nobody ever accused you of having good taste,” her friend said as she brushed back her auburn hair and wrapped it in a pink bow. “Roselle is right. You should have gone with something less dreary.”

  The fourth young lady smiled at the dark-haired one. “Maybe it’s not so bad.”

  “Puce is for old ladies,” Roselle said.

  “What do you think?” The auburn-headed one turned to the side so Roselle could get a look at her hairdo. The pink bow was a bit crooked and one side was bigger than the other.

  “Perfect.” Roselle cast her a sweet smile.

  The nondescript fourth girl with the brownish hair and brownish eyes looked uncertain. “I don’t know that pink goes especially well with auburn. But if you like it…”

  “As I said, it looks very charming,” Roselle replied and leveled a stern look at the mousy young lady.

  Tad didn’t want to disturb these delicate negotiations but he wanted even less to have to return tomorrow. They would undoubtedly head home for dinner soon. He would do the gentlemanly thing, give Roselle the basket, bow to her and leave her to enjoy the fruits of his labors. That wouldn’t disturb her too much, especially since she could enjoy them for her breakfast, and her companions would no doubt be envious.

  He marched right up to her, basket in both hands, and bowed. “Excuse me, Miss Roselle. I would like to offer you a gift…er…from a faraway land…very exotic.”

  “Oh?” Her eyes widened. She leaned forward as he lifted the lid from his basket. Her face took on such a look of wonder, all he could do was stare dreamily at it. “How did you know?”

  Tad’s enchanted eyes moved down to the delectable contents of his gift basket and found a little vermin covered in green and purple goo and lying on its back with its clawed feet on top of its distended tummy.

  To Tad’s horror, the love of his life cupped both of her dainty hands and reached toward the baby roc. “You’ve brought him to replace my poor Mopsie, haven’t you, Tad?”

  Surprise momentarily supplanted revulsion. “You know my name?”

  Her eyes sparkled at him as she lifted the sticky Popo to her bosom. “Of course.”

  Tad’s chest swelled.

  “You’re a dirty little one, aren’t you?” Roselle cooed at the beast. “What shall I call you?”

  “Uh…er…” Tad couldn’t think. “I was wondering if perhaps you’d prefer something a little more…less unusual.”

  “What could anyone have against such a darling?” She shook her head at Popo and rubbed his glutted belly with her fingertips.

  The front of her dress was dripping with fruit juice but Tad thought it best not to mention it. “Well, he’s hideous.”

  “He’s adorable.” The lady made cooing noises and infantile gestures at the specimen in question. “Look at those sweet eyes, just like my poor Mopsie’s.”

  “Who’s Mopsie?” Tad asked.

  Roselle stared at him with her sky blue eyes for a moment, then burst into tears.

  The auburn and raven girls put their arms around the weeping lady. For several moments the three of them huddled together consoling one another over whatever shared misfortune Tad’s words had conjured up. But the brown-haired girl’s eyebrows drew together as she looked at Popo lying contentedly on his back in Roselle’s arms. The beast probably could not move at all given that his stomach was as big as the rest of him. Roselle’s bosom appeared as if it might squash him flat as she was overcome with more shudders and sighs.

  Tad redirected his gaze from the lady’s bosom to the brown-haired girl. “Who’s Mopsie?” he whispered.

  “We don’t talk about him,” she mouthed with a sideways look at her companions. She screwed up her face, put a finger to her throat and jerked it across in a sudden death motion.

  “Perhaps I should bring you a different pet,” Tad said. Maybe something very sturdy, like a pony or a hippopotamus. Even though the roc was a wicked creature, he was only a baby, after all. Dainty ladies were not entirely reliable when it came to caring for small, defenseless creatures and Tad did not wish to see Popo meet whatever fate had overtaken Mopsie. He would never admit it, though.

  “I promise to take good care of him.” Roselle sniffled and rubbed Popo’s head. “Girls, we’ve got to find something sparkly for him. Maybe a diamond collar…” And she burst into shuddering wails once more. “That’s all I found of Mopsie. His little collar.”

  Thoughts of magicking himself away assailed Tad. The only thing worse than ferocious beasts, impossible cases and magical curses…was girls crying.

  But he couldn’t very well escape without some excuse. So he mumbled something about having a prior commitment that was due to be fulfilled at this very moment, turned, and scooted away as fast as his weary legs would carry him.

  He went home for a wink of sleep. But instead of falling into a slumber, he lay in his bed, covers tucked up under his chin, staring at the ceiling. Claire must not be allowed to solve the case. Not that she could. Science and true love did not mix. But what if she thought her experiment worked right when the real cure was discovered and applied? That would only entrench her in the ridiculous belief that science was better than romance. Yet something besides his dread of Claire�
��s scientific mischief stirred around in his chest, more than a feeling but less than a thought.

  How had one petite princess eaten an entire company of grown men? Even the magic baby roc had a stomachache after consuming a mere basket of fruit four times his size. And why hadn’t the prince kept his own men from being devoured?

  His eyelids drew down as he drifted into a fitful sleep, one where he was being chased by a pack of ravenous wolves through the forest in Laforetz, a field of giants, an island realm, and even his garden. He knew he was in a dream but when he tried to wake himself, the haze around him thickened. No matter where he turned, there they were—faces.

  They were lost. He was lost. All was lost.

  Tad woke with a start, his forehead beaded with moisture. Something about this case was not as it appeared. And the more he thought about his dream in broad daylight, the more he knew a secret lay in the shadows.

  The prince. The princess. A bunch of pirates. The Lumares treasure. Mathilde. He pondered the wicked fairy godmother most of all. Yes, she was just the sort to be involved in this mischief. But what could she have gained from it? Surely she didn’t just go around trying to ruin peoples’ happily ever afters, not without cause.

  An image in the globe kept coming back to mind. Something obvious. Something hidden.

  He pushed himself from his bed and pulled on the clothes cast haphazardly over the end of the bed, and his boots lying in a heap on the floor. His stomach rumbled. But his thoughts were too disturbed for him to be appalled at the lack of breakfast and order in his abode. The idea that came to him was as troubling as it was improbable.

  With all of the pieces at play in this case, there was yet one character he had missed.

  Chapter 13

  The princess’s bedchamber was surely the next place to look for a solution to her current predicament. But no matter how hard he tried, Tad couldn’t get his magic to take him there. It wasn’t like at the island where he had simply landed wrong. He managed to make it to the castle grounds but as he stared at the imposing structure there was simply something preventing him from going inside. A roving guard was nearly upon him when he magicked himself away.

  “Nan,” he called out when his feet touched down in the library. “There’s something wrong with my magic.”

  No answer. Tad looked high and low but all of his helpers had disappeared.

  “What’s that, dear?”

  Tad jumped. “I did not see you there,” he said to the bird on the shelf next to his right shoulder.

  “I only just arrived from the island.”

  It was good to know she could hear him call out. “I tried to magic myself into the princess’s bedchamber to have a look around but I couldn’t get inside the castle. There must be something wrong with my magic.”

  “But you managed to get yourself here.”

  True. “Something magical must be keeping me out, and that means I’m onto something.”

  “Perhaps. But very likely you could not get inside because you had no expectation of doing so. Have you ever been in the castle?”

  “No, but that time I magicked myself inside Gram’s cabin I had never seen inside it, either.”

  “But you followed Gram and Hameus through the forest and only made the leap into the cabin just as they opened the door. Your anticipation of getting there ahead of them did the trick.” The she-bird studied him for several moments. “Is there some reason you might not wish to enter the castle?”

  Was she saying that if he dreaded something or if he simply could not imagine what lay behind a wall or a door, that was enough to stop his magic from working? “A gentleman ought to have some qualms about entering a lady’s bedchamber.”

  Nan stared at him without blinking.

  “Okay, I admit that castles might be a little problematic for me.”

  “I thought so.”

  Tad frowned. The Lady had told the pigeons his real name. What else had she mentioned?

  “I’ll help you, dear. We’ll move by steps. Just hold on to me and we’ll go one bit at a time, first to the castle grounds, then to the threshold, and so on.”

  Tad’s relief was nearly audible. She had not pressed him for details about his past and he was not in any humor to provide any. He picked her up and was surprised to find she was even heavier than she looked. Those must be some stout wings to support such a frame.

  But he had no time to dwell on it. Away they went, first to the grounds inside the gates, then just outside a window that had the curtains open, through which he spied a very elegant dining arrangement. Moments later he stood inside the dining chamber, a staircase just visible through the open double doors. The bottom of the staircase was their next stop, then the landing where he stood holding Nan and sweeping his gaze across doors that stretched from one end of the hall to the other.

  “How do we know which room is hers?” he whispered so that the guards at each end might not hear. Fortunately, they were in the middle of lazily changing shifts and so they did not notice the intruders.

  “We’ll just have to check each one,” Nan replied.

  With this they were off, Tad’s heart racing in his chest as Nan moved them through wall after wall, from room to room. At last they landed in a dark chamber where the curtains had been drawn. Tad didn’t like this room at all, but Nan tarried.

  “I believe this is it.”

  Of course it was. Dark, cold, a multitude of places for things to hide. It was exactly the sort of place he expected to end up in as Lady Love’s avenging agent.

  “And now is a good time to use another bit of your magic. Hold out your hand.”

  Tad did as he was told, though he had to cradle Nan against his chest to keep her stout form from flopping to the floor. She grunted and flapped out of his arms.

  “Now,” she said from someplace unseen in front of him. “Illuminate this darkness.”

  “And how might I do that?” he asked after staring into the void for fully half a minute.

  “The light is inside you, dear. Expect it to manifest on your person. Generally, in the hand is easiest.”

  Tad bent his head toward his right hand and tried to imagine light there instead of nothingness. “I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, you can. Now, close your eyes and imagine a bright light in your palm.”

  Why did he need to close his eyes? He couldn’t see with them open. But he did as he was told, though he felt like an imbecile. Nan remained silent as he stood there trying to make light appear out of nowhere.

  And that’s when he saw it, a glow rising from his chest and settling in his palm. But his eyes were still shut. He opened them to find a tiny speck of light had indeed manifest in his hand. After that there was no stopping him.

  He heard Nan huffing as he toyed with his newfound ability. The speck grew into a seed, the seed into an acorn, the acorn into a fully-formed ball the size of his fist.

  “That will do,” Nan said from her perch atop the bedpost.

  Tad lifted his eyes from his palm and studied the chamber. It was still much dimmer than he would have liked but at least he could make out the contents, a lavish bed, a chaise-lounge, several trunks, a fireplace, and a vanity with a rather impressive and odd-looking mirror. “There’s no secret passage,” he said as he inspected the mostly unadorned stone walls.

  “That might be a portal.” Nan was staring at the mirror.

  Tad shuffled toward the item in question. He reached out his left hand and pressed its fingers to the glass. Solid. “Hello.” He rapped his knuckles on the hard surface.

  Nan landed on his shoulder. “Something about this seems familiar, and yet unfamiliar.”

  Tad waited for her to explain but she just sat there peering at the gilded mirror that was just the sort one might expect to find in a princess’s boudoir. “But…” Tad rubbed his head. “I only saw a glimpse of the mirror in the reflection in the princess’s eye, but I thought it had a black frame with strange carvings. Probably I was mistake
n, though.” A reflection in someone’s eyes was not much to go on.

  “No, you were not mistaken. We need to get back to the library.”

  Before Tad could utter a word Nan disappeared and he was left in the creepy chamber alone. At least he hoped he was alone. Thoughts of pirates snatching him through an invisible portal flooded his mind. He winked himself back to the library at once.

  The library was quiet as it had been when they left, except that Claire’s beasts were tumbling around inside their cage making chirruping sounds that Tad couldn’t decide if he liked. They were either playing a game or attempting a mass breakout.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked Nan before he could dwell on the horrors of having a brood of baby rocs loose in his magic library.

  “My thoughts are that it wasn’t the apple that is primarily responsible for creating the siren.” Her tone grew somber. “It was the mirror.”

  “A magic mirror?”

  “An ordinary mirror possessed by an extraordinary person. Mathilde, to be exact. Do you recall what she was wearing when last we saw her?”

  “That hideous ram-horned headpiece and the wicked black cloak? And no wings at all?”

  “Yes, I fear she has traded her fairy godmother wings for something. That would have been an unthinkable sacrifice and it makes me shudder to imagine what Rune promised her in return. But that getup of hers bears an uncanny resemblance to the image of the black mirror and its markings. I suspect she insinuated herself into it, animated it, if you will, and it took on her persona.” Nan stared off into the bookcases until Tad began to squirm.

  “How did Mathilde go bad?”

  The bird’s eyes returned to the present. “Nobody knows. In fact, we’ve never asked.”

  Tad could see his feathered assistant was troubled by Mathilde’s desertion, and though he didn’t know what history the two might have together, there was certainly something more than Nan had ever let on. “How about we ask now?”

  Nan drew in a deep breath, but nodded.

  Tad turned to the globe. “Show me when Mathilde decided to join Rune’s side.”