“Mia has many secrets. Speaking of secrets, Fredericka Cooper had a few.”
“I’m not proud of not seeing that coming. I think, perhaps, we need to look at who screwed up Amanda Neyer too.”
“André Chaput, he’s dead. Amanda killed him and went to prison for it.”
“I guess we can subtract him from our current list. Anyone else?” Altair asked.
“There’s the ballet instructor Piers Savatier. He may still be around. I think he groomed Amanda.”
“Do you think he’s the coconspirator?”
“Not a strong candidate to be involved now. He would be too old.”
“If he was human, he is too old. If he was something else, then we may have a candidate. What do you know about Quazar?”
“He’s a cat-faced gargoyle. He’s homegrown American. First seen on 81 Irving Place in New York City in 1929. Later, he took on the persona of a merchant of magic. I’ve dealt with him a few times. He occasionally came across books he thought the birdmen would be interested in.”
“We met at a book auction. Small world. I’m surprised you and I didn’t bump into each other a few times,” Altair said.
“They didn’t allow me in the field often,” Orion said. “Aside from his knowledge of volos, why are you interested in Quazar?”
“Prior to you receiving the candle, he was seen watching Brian Martin from the top of a building in the Magnificent Mile.”
Orion leaned forward in his chair. “That does disturb me. Quazar would know how to make a volo.”
“Or have a book on it,” Altair offered.
“There is someone closer to home,” Orion said. “Lazar Popov’s grandmother is a practitioner of crone magic. Crones developed the zyczenie candle which is basically the same thing.”
“The whole family was in Akron at a wedding when this happened.”
“Remember that I purchased the candles a week prior. When did Brian see Quazar?”
“A week and a few days before the party.”
“So we have Lazar or his grandmother and Quazar as possible suspects for the implementation of the candle,” Altair said. He drained his glass.
Orion offered more, but Altair waved it away. “I better keep a clear head. Mia should be back from speaking with Roumain. I want to get whatever information she’s gotten from him.”
“You sent her to Roumain?” Orion asked.
“Yes. I figured he was the most likely to have slowed time. The others I doubt even know who Mia is.”
“I would put him on the top of our list of coconspirators with Fredericka, and you send Mia to him.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Don’t use Mia as a dog to flush out the pheasants. Or in this case, wild boars.”
Altair raised an eyebrow. “Strong words from you, Orion.”
“I know I’m a quiet birdman normally, but all of this didn’t just hit Mia, it hit all of us. Without PEEPs taking on Mia, they wouldn’t have been in Chicago when Audrey met them. Without that, I would not have met her when I helped Angelo out with Gabor the Great. Luke would not have happened. This is all connected.”
“Perhaps this isn’t about Mia at all. It could have been orchestrated to stop Luke from being conceived,” Altair said. “What is so special about your son?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Fine. But I think Luke is part of this as much as Brian and Varden. This next generation of hybrids are very important. What if all of this started not with a wish but with a deal. A deal made with a devil…”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Mia parked the truck and helped Brian out of his car seat. They were going to the art shop, also known as the paint and paper store. Big Bear Lake couldn’t support an art shop on its own, but it could support an artist with the smarts to diversify. Acalan Cabello was such a man. He renovated the two-story building so he could have his studio at the front of the store. From his creative space, he had an unobstructed view of the park across the street. He also could turn around and monitor the goings on in his shop as he worked on his masterpieces. He employed his grandmother Zarita, or Grandma Z as she liked to be called, to run the front of the store. She was a bright eighty-year-old who understood everything but the cash register. This she smacked regularly as if that would correct any error she had made.
“Acalan!” she would shout. “Make this devil open the drawer!”
He didn’t mind these interruptions because they meant she had made a sale.
Brian held on to his mother’s hand as they passed Grandma Z.
“You brought your little darling,” Zarita said. “Tell me, have you sold a masterpiece yet?”
Brian looked at the older lady with the giant crucifix that danced from the end of the chain as she bent over to look Brian in face and answered, “No. But my Uncle Mike has put a few up on his refrigerator. He lives in Chicago.”
“You have a showing already! Shush, don’t tell my grandson. He will be jealous,” she whispered.
Brian wasn’t sure what a showing was but smiled anyway and nodded.
“We are looking to upgrade from the crayons and move on to something else. Do you have a recommendation?” Mia asked.
“Follow me. I’m thinking, how old are you, forty-four?” she asked.
Brian giggled, “No, Grandma Z, I’m going to be four.”
“Impossible,” she said and waved Brian over to the art area. “Here are all the things that make color happen. Why don’t you like the crayons?” she asked.
“My brother eats them.”
“Mama, you should feed him more.”
“Yes, Grandma Z,” Mia said, playing along.
“Let me see the size of your hands.”
Brian opened his hands.
“I’m thinking, mama, he could use some oil pastels or markers, but both should be kept away from
