“You’re welcome to have as much as you like, Lois,” Salem said. He was manually sweeping the floor behind the counter. “You may not want some now, but you will in a bit.”
Chatter came from the back room. Lois craned her head around to see the Muffler twins sitting at the card table. They were arguing about something—just like the good old days. Some habits, such as the ones Lois picked up from serving in the Silver Griffins for so long, were tough to break.
“When do you think Ignatius will be back? I really have to get back home,” Lois said.
Agnes and Salem shrugged almost simultaneously.
“You know Ignatius. He probably took a wrong turn, saw a town in need of saving, and decided it was his responsibility to save them. His granddaughter is much the same way; put them together, and no cat will ever get stuck in a tree again,” Salem said. “Besides, I see you noticed the Muffler twins are here now.”
“Unfortunately,” Lois murmured. “Sneaky bastards. Didn’t even hear them come in.”
“Well, it is card night. We’re playing 500 Rummy. I remember how good you used to be at that.”
“Still am,” Lois said. “Haven’t played in God knows how long.”
“Come play a couple hands,” Agnes offered. “It’ll be fun. Like the olden days.”
Lois exhaled. “Fine, just a couple hands. But if Ignatius isn’t back soon, we’ll have to go find him ourselves.”
It was supposed to be a joke.
Chapter Twelve
The mountain passage was no easy task, especially with a hurt grandfather. Maria and Frieda had to constantly steady him on the uneven terrain.
Sherlock would take off up the rocks and scout ahead, then come back and give Maria the lowdown. So far, so good.
Gramps kept mumbling about the various creatures they needed to keep their eyes peeled for, creatures Maria couldn’t pronounce nor had ever heard of before. Suffice it to say, Maria kept her free hand near the hilt of her sword.
As they got higher and higher into the mountains, the air grew colder and the music box grew heavier; so heavy, in fact, that it felt like Maria was wearing the mountain around her neck instead of her satchel.
They had stopped to catch their breath.
Frieda was shivering, so she conjured up a fire in a pile of dry grass surrounded by small stones. The fire burned much brighter than it should have.
Magic, remember, Maria?
Her legs ached. Her head pounded. It wasn’t until the ability to teleport via one of Gramps’s portals was lost that Maria missed it. So often it seemed the people of Earth took things for granted. Maria guessed it wasn’t much different on the other world, judging by the irksome looks on both Gramps’s and Frieda’s faces. Sherlock, on the other hand, was loving the journey; sniffing everything and peeing on most everything.
He left around the time the fire started, saying, I’m going to find us some food. He came back with a mouthful of dead bugs, depositing them on a flat rock. Voila!
“Gross. We can’t eat that,” Maria said.
Gramps looked on, his face turning a sickly shade of green that Maria hoped was because of the beetles and ant-like insects, rather than the damage he had sustained in the Widow’s attack.
Why the hell not? They’re quite tasty. I only swallowed a few. Saved the rest for you guys. I think a thank you is in order here, Maria.
“Is there anything you don’t eat?”
Veg—
“Vegetables, right. How could I forget? It’s the thought that counts, I guess. So thank you, Sherlock. You’re a good boy.”
Sherlock’s tail beat at the surrounding dirt, causing a thin cloud to rise in the air and drift down the way they’d come.
“Mountains are typically devoid of wildlife anyhow. If we were starving, we’d be out of luck, I’m afraid,” Freida said.
Maria noticed, not for the first time, that Frieda had Gramps’s hand in her own. She wondered if this was a friendly gesture, or if there was something there between the two of them. The thought of her grandfather dating was almost as foreign to her as magic. But, then again, stranger things had happened. That was a motto she had begun to live by lately.
“No worries,” Gramps assured them. We do not have much longer of a trek. Ashbourne is just through there.” He pointed to the mouth of a cave as big as a storefront.
“A shortcut?” Frieda asked.
“I’m afraid we have no other choice.”
Ooh! I have to grab some food to-go. BRB, Sherlock said.
“Did you just use a texting acronym instead of just saying ‘be right back?’” Maria asked, shaking her head.
I heard Claire say it. Sue me, he said, running.
“What has become of my dog?”
“Come on, we must go. Sherlock will catch up with us,” Gramps said, trying to rise. He got about halfway up and then stumbled. Freida and Maria both reached out and grabbed him before he could crack his head on the rock he had been sitting on.
“No, you need to rest,” Maria said. “I can go alone from here—well, Sherlock can come with me, so I won’t be totally alone. As for how much use he’ll be? Well, that’s debatable.”
Gramps smiled, stuck a hand out, and brushed Maria’s hair from her face. He looked haggard, his wrinkles deeper, his eyes ringed and sagging. It broke Maria’s heart to see him like that.
“Oh, Maria, so much like your mother. She would’ve done the same thing, and she did on more than one occasion, despite my and her husband’s warnings. She was hardheaded.”
Maria laughed and knocked her fist lightly against her scalp. “I know where we both got it from.”
“Exactly.” With great strain, Gramps pulled himself. “I’m as hardheaded as they come, and you are not going about this alone,
