“How did you...” Erik trailed off in wonder as they all followed the memory guardian into the dark, quiet house.
The first sensation to assault all their noses was the smell of cigarette smoke. It burst through the open door in billows, trailing out into the street.
Cassie wafted the air around her furiously as if she were being attacked by an invisible smog monster.
Ignoring the thick atmosphere, Faye advanced a few paces. “Maddie?” she called out tentatively. “Please come out, dear.”
All four of them stood uncertainly in the foyer, their eyes unadjusted to the dim interior. A few seconds later a shadowy shape emerged from the living room and lumbered toward them.
“I’m not exactly dressed to receive company,” the figure mumbled.
That was an understatement. The chatelaine had wrapped herself in a ratty flannel bathrobe which was slipping off of one shoulder and only partially-secured by a half-knotted sash. The nightgown beneath was stained with what appeared to be red wine. Her hair, frizzy to begin with, was matted like the pelt of a shedding buffalo. An unlit cigarette dangled from her lower lip.
“What are you all doing here?” Her voice sounded uncharacteristically soft. She seemed confused by their presence.
Undeterred, Faye stepped forward. “We were concerned about you, dear. No one could reach you for the past two days.”
“Two days,” Maddie repeated. She seemed wonder-struck. “Has it really been two days?”
“Why don’t you sit down, dear,” Faye suggested. “Will you two help her?” She turned to Griffin and Erik who rushed to prop Maddie up on either side and guide her to a seat. She didn’t resist their efforts which was, in itself, strange.
The living room was set up as a conversation pit. Two couches opposed one another across a massive square coffee table. Between the couches on the far side of the room sat an imposing armchair. Griffin and Erik steered Maddie to the chair and took seats on the couches on either side of her. Faye took the remaining seat next to Griffin and Cassie sat down next to Erik.
“What happened to you?” Cassie blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
Maddie regarded her strangely as if recognizing her for the first time. “Hi, Cassie.”
“Hi, yourself. Why did you drop off the radar?” the pythia persisted.
“Oh, that.” The chatelaine nodded sagely. “Well, it all started with the filing.”
“Filing?” Erik echoed suspiciously. “You lost your marbles because of filing?”
Maddie didn’t appear to take offense at the observation. “It wasn’t so much the filing,” she continued vaguely. “I suppose it was really because of the tyro.”
“Which one?” Faye asked. “I counted a dozen when last I visited the vault.”
“Oh, you know the one,” Maddie said. “Chalky complexion. Long nose. Looks like an albino ferret?”
She turned questioning eyes on the memory guardian who shook her head helplessly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recall meeting him.”
“No big deal,” Maddie waved her hand feebly. “Anyway, every week for the past six weeks this kid comes into my office to announce that he’s lost the paperwork for an artifact transfer.”
“What’s an artifact transfer?” Cassie interrupted.
Griffin spoke up. “We occasionally need to transport an especially valuable artifact from one trove to another. Without the transfer paperwork, we have no way of knowing where the artifact was taken. It could potentially become lost in transit. Irretrievable.”
“That’s huge!” Cassie exclaimed. Turning to Maddie, she asked, “So, you say this kid kept losing transfer paperwork?”
Maddie bobbed her head slightly. She squinted in an attempt to remember her train of thought. “Yeah, at least once a week for the past six weeks. Every time, it’s the same routine. The kid can’t remember what he was working on, so I have to call a red alert. I order a search of the department from top to bottom. By the end of the day, we always find the missing transfer. It’s usually stuck to the tyro’s shoe, or stuffed in his back pocket. One time we even found it wadded up in his lunch bag.”
“If he’s such a screw-up, why don’t you just get rid of him?” Cassie asked.
“Can’t. I owe his dad a favor.” Maddie sighed, the forgotten cigarette still suspended from her lower lip. “Two days ago was the end of week seven. The tyro came into my office, as per usual, to tell me that he’d lost another transfer. Except this time was different. He went into his spiel when all of a sudden his head turned into a softball.”
“Excuse me, dear,” Faye intruded cautiously. “You said his head turned into a softball?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Maddie affirmed hazily. “A talking softball just wobbling in the air in front of me. It was flapping its stitches ‘blah-blah-blah,’ but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I felt this uncontrollable urge to grab a bat and give that softball a good hard swing. I saw it all play out in my head. I swung, and the ball ricocheted off the back wall in my office and bobbed right out the door.” She smiled with dim satisfaction at the memory. “That was the last thing I remember until my secretary yanked the club out of my hand.”
“What club?” Cassie asked in surprise.
“A replica of a Haudenosaunee war club that Grace Littlefield sent me as a present. I keep it propped in a corner of my office.” Maddie scratched her head, temporarily baffled. “Somehow, the war club had gotten into my hands, and the tyro had locked himself inside my supply cabinet, and he was shrieking. The next thing I remember after that was my secretary bundling me into my car and telling me to go home and get some rest. She got a couple of guys from Security to drive alongside as an escort. I did feel kind of tired plus I figured that when softballs start talking to me, I ought to go home.”
“A wise decision, I’m sure,” Faye concurred.
“I see you’ve started smoking again,” Griffin noted quietly.
Maddie smiled absently. “Yeah, that and
