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“Right… At least we know Roldon isn’t the bad guy.” Anthony swallowed an annoyed sigh. Which is probably exactly why he really is.
Chapter Eight
Nielf and Meritha
It is a weird experience for me to not be freaking out over Tammy being on her own—or Anthony—though I worry less about him these days.
Sure, Malin Normund and others in his family might have some magical abilities. That doesn’t mean they have the equivalent of Merlin’s home security system. In the form of a mouse, my daughter can definitely stay out of reach if she can’t stay out of sight. Even if they become aware of someone in the house who shouldn’t be there via magical means, they won’t be looking for a small animal. Worst case happens and their magic is good enough to pinpoint her exactly, I’m confident she’ll get herself out there as soon as she realizes they know she’s there.
Plus, well... she spent an entire second childhood learning magic from the faerie queen herself. My daughter is no slouch.
Okay, absolute worst-case scenario is they catch her, and then I go on a mom rampage… but I’m trying not to rush into panic mode. Lindsey-kitty assures me as we fly away from House Normund that their magic is highly ritualistic. They don’t just stand there and throw lightning bolts like Allison. If they want to do something it’s a total boiling cauldron and an hour of chanting type situation. They do the kinds of magic that makes modern people think the satanists are running amok in the woods at night. Not saying it’s evil, just gatherings of multiple people in black robes doing weird things.
Anyway…
I’m trusting Tammy to keep herself out of harm’s way while I proceed to my next stop: House Teredwyn.
Their manor house is in the city, part of a district full of rich people. The area is reminiscent of old London, probably because (I’m guessing) Quentin associates historic England with monarchy and it bled through out of his subconscious. Maybe I underestimate medieval times, but to me, this area is an impossible juxtaposition of time periods. The buildings and streets are laid out more like what one might’ve seen in 1800s London while there’s nothing even remotely approaching technology. No streetlamps or electricity.
I suppose quibbling over the ‘realism’ of architecture being accurate to some defined period of Earth time is silly given the existence of dragons here.
Okay, Sam. Stop distracting yourself. Yes, these mental wanderings are a function of my anxiety. I want to figure this out, find the dark master, and go home before Detective Sherbet rips Fullerton apart at the seams trying to figure out why I’ve disappeared and taken my entire family with me. Maybe he’s used to the crazy things enough not to panic yet. Here’s hoping. I mean, I did kinda tell him a little about the last time we hopped across dimensions. Also, Patricia Arnbury knows where we went and I made sure to tell her that Detective Sherbet can be trusted, so she might’ve told him if he came asking after me.
“Hmm. Sneaking in didn’t work too well last time,” I say to no one in particular. “Maybe I should try the direct approach.”
“Nielf is a coward,” says Lindsey-kitty. “If you barge in there like you’re some kind of authority, he probably won’t do anything.”
I’ve certainly barged into my fair share of places... though generally Chad and I were armed with guns and warrants. I know how to sound super official and intimidating. We’ll call that Plan B.
Since their manor house has a fairly high wall around the front courtyard, it makes for an acceptable landing spot. I come in fairly high up to avoid passersby on the street noticing me flying, then dive straight down. When the ground gets close, I swing myself around right side up and set down behind a huge bronze fountain. Not sure if I’ve said this before, but it’s far more comfortable to land on my feet than on my head. The fountain is big enough to hide behind and stay out of view of anyone in the enormous house.
“Put me down,” says Lindsey.
“Why?” I ask, thinking she might’ve seen something coming after us.
“Unless you want to end up holding me. I’m going to change back to my human self.”
“Oh.” I chuckle and set her on her paws. “Sure. Thought you spotted something dangerous.”
“Not yet.” Lindsey-kitty glows briefly, then stretches upward into a light blob for a second or two as she resumes a human shape. The light fades, leaving her normal. “Much better. I think I might have done something wrong with that spell.”
I shrug. “Looked like it worked to me.”
She gives me side eye. “It was getting hard to resist the temptation to lick places I do not want to lick. I did not expect polymorphing myself into a cat would make me have the thoughts and desires of a cat. I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.”
“Can’t help you there, kiddo. I know nothing about how magic works here.” I head around the fountain and approach the front door.
The building is fairly plain, three stories, somewhat fortress-y like much of the rest of the city, and seems slightly in a state of disrepair. Nothing too heinous. Its windows are a bit dirty, there is ivy growing all over the walls, and it just generally feels like routine maintenance is not a super high priority. Honestly, it’s not really that bad. To me, it looks like any other creepy mansion shown in various movies where a bunch of people have paranormal experiences. I’m sure the other wealthy people in the neighborhood here likely consider it a bit of an eyesore. Wonder if the aristocracy of Tarramor has a homeowner’s association?
A short but thick rope cord hangs from a hole in the stone wall by the door. It looks as though it’s intended to be pulled on, which makes me think it’s some manner of doorbell. Sure enough, when I reach out and give it a tug, a bell rings inside.
Lindsey steps up at my side. “Shall I be your maidservant, a peer, or perhaps a cousin?”
“Maidservant?” I blink.
“You’re supposed to be a noble visiting Frostmarch from Stonnebrin,” whispers Lindsey.
“Oh, yeah, that. Hmm. Servant would make me feel too awkward, even if we are only acting.”
