Alice gave me a long look, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed, sitting back in her chair. “That’s a cockup for sure. Well, we do need to get you up to speed. Until we do, you’re going to keep having magical leakages.”
I felt my eyebrows lifting. “Leakages?”
“Yes. These objects aren’t coming to you of their own volition. You’re calling them to you.”
“But, I don’t have any keeper magic.” I felt my face go white. I hadn’t meant to admit that to her.
“Of course you do, sweetums. It’s raw and elemental, but it’s there. We just need to teach you how to use it properly.”
She was wrong. I wasn’t inherently magical. I’d had twenty-two years to come to grips with that. But I didn’t argue. The last thing I wanted was to convince her of my unworthiness. The longer she believed I had promise, the longer she’d let me stay at Croakies.
And I really wanted to stay at Croakies. More than I’d wanted anything in my life.
Alice’s gaze slid back to the brick that was shaped like a golden loaf of bread. “Well, I should get that sliced up and put away, or it’ll get hard.”
I pressed my lips together, gathering up my bowl so she couldn’t see me smile. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“Brilliant.” Alice headed toward the dividing door. “I’ll be right back. I believe I’ve got just the blade in the back for slicing this bread.”
I almost asked her if she meant Blackbeard’s sword but bit back the tease, not sure how she’d take it.
It turned out her idea was worse anyway.
“I’m certain Jack’s scalpel will be just the thing,” she murmured as she opened the door.
My eyes bugging, I watched her disappear.
Surely she didn’t mean Jack the Ripper’s scalpel?
Did she?
3
Croakies or Bust!
I left Alice to dismember…erm…slice the bread and returned to my artifact logging.
Alice had told me I could look up the origin and purpose of each artifact by using Shakespeare’s desk, but I’d been too intimidated to try it. However, with a full belly and no desire to be anywhere near Jack the Ripper’s bread slicer, I decided it was as good a time as any to brave it.
I decided to start with the pair of women’s shoes I’d cataloged last. The shoes looked brand new. The soles were spotless, the two-inch heels solid, and the pink cloth uppers pristine. They didn’t look as if they’d ever been worn. Which was surprising to me. The magical artifacts I’d handled to that point had all obviously been around a while. Many of them were ancient. Their age like a fine patina that had a definite feel against my skin. With that patina came a vibration I’d always noticed when touching magical objects. Latent energy.
The shoes had no latent magical energy that I could sense. I couldn’t help wondering if Alice had brought them to the library by mistake.
Getting slightly desperate, I searched the table again. I didn’t see the shoes.
Fenwald was lying on top of the bumpy suitcase, bathing himself. The stench I’d noticed before, that I’d attributed to Alice’s cooking, still hung in the area. I waved a hand under my nose. “Is that you, Fenny?”
The big cat stopped bathing to look at me, his entire body vibrating with disgust.
“Sorry,” I said, eyeing him for signs that he was considering retribution. “I didn’t mean to disparage your hygiene.”
After glaring at me for another minute, he went back to bathing.
I sighed. “I know I put those shoes right here.” I moved a few things around, but the shoes weren’t there. “Humbug on a high heel!” I murmured. “I’m losing my mind.”
“Meow!” Fenny agreed enthusiastically.
“Button it, fuzzy butt.”
A soft chime pulled my attention around. I frowned as a sheet of paper drifted to the floor behind me. “What in the…?”
The dividing door slammed open, and Alice hurried through. Her expression was intense, and she still had the scalpel clutched in her hand.
Uh oh, I thought. She’s been possessed by the spirit of Jack the Ripper. I knew that scalpel was gonna be trouble!
“Why am I getting that order again?” she asked, looking confused.
I was pretty sure she wasn’t talking to me. But I was the only one in the room, so I shrugged.
“Meow!” Fenny said, just in case she’d been directing the question his way.
“Here, sweetums, hold this for me, yeah? Cheers.” Handing me the deadly blade, Alice grabbed the sheet of paper off the floor, scanning it quickly. “Harridan hijinks!” she muttered.
“What is that?” I asked.
“An artifact wrangling order. I’m to repossess a pair of magical heels. But I already retrieved those.” She slapped the sheet of paper down on the table and glanced around, shoving things to the side in growing agitation. “They were just here.”
“The shoes?” I asked, stalling for time.
“Yes. Did you put them somewhere?”
“No. I was just looking for them myself. They were right there,” I pointed to a small empty spot on the table. “…when I went to lunch.”
Alice sighed. “Well, that’s it then. It’s into the toxic vault for them once we’ve retrieved them again.” She looked at me. “This will be a good first retrieval for you.”
All the blood ran out of my body and settled onto the floor. “Um, Yikes! I’ve only been here half a day…”
“Pshaw!” she said by way of argument. “You’ll do fine. Just call the police…” Alice dug into all her pockets, including the ones in her banger-stained apron, and finally came up with a dingy, battered card. “This is our man on the inside. Tell him what we’re looking for and that you’re my apprentice. He’ll keep you on the straight and narrow.”
She grabbed the blade back out of my nerveless fingers. “Off you go then.”
“I…” My lips flapped. “I…” I reached for her as she hurried away. “Um…I…”
“See that you’re back in time for dinner. I’m thinking of making Haggis tonight. You’re going to love it!”
Detective Wise Grym was built like a brick
