Chapter Seven
The thing that sucked most, I figured, was that even with all the death and dying, we still had to be adults. It truly sucked. Case in point, Black Briar secret business. We went over there to have a board meeting of sorts. Since we’d lost Jimmy, his wife, Deidre, had taken the running of the clan very seriously. The fact she was wheelchair-bound didn’t slow her down. She ruled the roost.
When Katie and I walked in, Gunther and Stuart were already there. I loved those guys. They’ve treated me as an equal since the first day Katie brought me out to Black Briar.
Gunther was tall and Nordic, with a full blond beard and hair down past his broad shoulders; Stuart was shorter and broad, with a kind face and a muscular frame that always reminded me of Tolkien’s dwarves. I mean, he was like five-eleven or something, but next to Gunther he always came off as short.
The five of us constituted a quorum.
The first item on the agenda was an eye-roller. With Jimmy gone, we had a long discussion about who would meet with the Bestellen von Mordred crew. I thought Katie should take Jimmy’s place as the last surviving blood member of the Cornett clan.
Katie just shook her head, saying she would rather stay at Black Briar and let me take her place.
“You’re a dragon slayer,” she argued. “Besides, I trust you with my life.”
Deidre laughed at us when we looked her way. “Leave me out of all the intrigue,” she said, shaking her head. “I have no desire to enter that particular rat’s nest.”
So, after a brief discussion, and a bit of general shrugging, we defaulted to me, Stuart, and Gunther to meet the Mordred crew.
“Besides, that kid, what’s his name?” Gunther asked, looking at me.
“Charlie Hague.”
“Yes, him. He is already comfortable with you.”
I raised my eyebrows in his general direction, and he grinned.
“Fair, perhaps he’s not particularly comfortable, but at least he’s smart enough to be afraid of you.”
This brought a laugh from Stuart.
“I think the word you are looking for is respect,” I said, straightening my shoulders and glaring at the two of them.
They both laughed then, and I rolled my eyes. Charlie was decent enough, though the rest of Madame Gottschalk’s hangers-on left a lot to be desired. They were secretive and seriously better at the Machiavellian stuff than we were. They claimed to be watchers, but I was beginning to have my suspicions about their more ambitious leanings.
They dealt with things I’d never known to exist before I discovered the dragons—you know, magic rings, swords, trolls, giants—those sorts of things. Katie’s parents had been part of a similar group when they disappeared more than a decade ago. The Mordred crew was the only real connection to Paul and Olivia Cornett, and Black Briar wanted to learn anything they could about the couple’s disappearance.
Charlie was harmless. I didn’t trust the rest of them.
Clandestine meetings are so much easier with texting and cell phones. I contacted Charlie, as our point man, and we agreed on the details of a double-secret meeting. We’d met with Gottschalk and some of her people before Jimmy was killed. This time, we settled on just Charlie. That actually made me a little less tense. I figured he wasn’t as cloak-and-dagger loyal to the Mordred crew as they assumed he was. It would be good to explore that a bit.
Later that afternoon, we rolled up to a massive park just outside Woodinville where there was a huge soccer tournament going on, if you can imagine it. Three hundred pre-teens and their anxious parents apparently were a good enough cover when you needed to have a clandestine meeting.
Charlie was a mixed bag. On one hand, he could do real magic, like casting spells and such. That was pretty cool. And he’d helped me when the blood cult killed one of the horses out at Circle Q last year. He earned points for that. The real problem with young Mr. Hague was that he’d withheld information about Katie’s parents for far too long. None of us were ready to forgive him for that, even after he returned their wedding bands.
“How’s it hanging, Charlie?” Stuart said, by way of greeting.
Gunther rolled his eyes, but Charlie grinned.
“To the left,” he said. Then he glanced at me. The smug demeanor faded quickly, and he nodded. “Beauhall.”
I shook his hand, reminding him exactly how strong I was, which was a dick move. I guess I needed to work on my “not-holding-a-grudge” thing.
“What can we do for one another?” Gunther asked.
Cutting right to the: one of the things I liked about our own Viking warrior.
“Officially, I’m here to offer you sanctuary if Black Briar want to come into the fold.”
None of us bothered to respond. After a moment, Charlie cleared his throat and shrugged. “I had to offer.”
“You knew we’d decline,” I said. “So, why’d you drag us out to this gods-forsaken place?”
Gunther nudged me and I vowed to reduce the amount of growl in my voice.
“To be exact,” Charlie began, “just so she can see I’m not lying.” He cleared his throat and took a step back. “Her exact words.” He was stalling. “Please don’t punch me.”
I glared at him and he cringed back. Gunther put a hand on my shoulder, and Stuart put one on Charlie’s. I settled back, and Charlie accepted the support with a nod. He raised both his hands and made air quotes as he began to recite.
“You are invited to join Bestellen von Mordred, by personal invitation from Madame Gottschalk. If you join, we will happily share any and all information we have about the Black Briar clan, their original members, and everything we know about the region. This offer allows Jimmy and Deidre Cornett to take the places that Paul and Olivia once held.”
“Jimmy’s dead,” Stuart said, and the temperature in our little huddle dropped a few degrees.
Charlie held up his hands. “That was her official offer. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Gottschalk is a bitch,” I said, letting my pure dislike of the woman imbue each word. “She has to know Jimmy’s dead.”
Charlie shrugged. “Look,” he said sheepishly, “I’ve held stuff back on occasion.” He cast me a furtive glance, then held Stuart’s and then Gunther’s gaze for a moment, but I’ve never lied to any of you.”
They both looked at me and I nodded. Charlie sighed and went on.
“There’s something wrong with her,” he said in a rush. “I don’t think she knows Jimmy is dead.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and he raised both hands, patting the air between us.
“No, I’m serious. There’s something odd going on. I don’t return to the home base often, but there’s a strange vibe there.” He lowered his voice. “I’m afraid. There is something very wrong going on there. Madame is becoming more and more erratic.”
We fell silent, letting the sound of screaming parents and children wash over us. After a moment, while children ran around chasing balls on all sides of us, we discussed the changes at Gottschalk’s place, the new people coming and going, and the way her cat had been missing for weeks.
“I’ve done a bit of divining,” Charlie said, almost embarrassed. “There are power fluxes I’m unfamiliar with. Things that scare me, if I’m honest.”
Gunther prodded for more details. He didn’t have much to go on, some hunches, and a few bad readings.
“If I had specifics, I’d tell you.” Charlie looked at me directly. “Gottschalk talks in her sleep. Sometimes, when she falls asleep in her chair, we have to watch her, keep her safe. Twice I’ve heard her crying, begging to be spared.”
Gunther patted him on the shoulder. “I can see how that would be unsettling.”
Charlie gave a wan smile. “She’s not been overly kind her whole life, and I know she’s terrified of her sister. But I almost feel like she’s being tormented by someone in the inner circle.”
“Why?” Stuart asked. “What do they have to gain?”
Charlie shook his head. “Power, maybe. All of us can do some bit of magic. I’m not the most advanced of her people, by any means.”
“Who do you think would mean her harm?”
He just shook his head. “Look, every day I feel like some sort of hammer is going to fall. I just want to make sure I’m not between it and the anvil.”
I smiled, knowing he used the metaphor to appeal to me, and it worked. Like I said, there is something I like about Charlie, even when he pisses me off—beyond our mutual love of animals. He had a kindness, an innocence, that kept him from being tainted by the powers around him. The necromancer we’d killed was a key example of someone who could let the power of magic corrupt him.
Charlie swung his satchel around on his shoulders and opened the clasps. He brought out a folder stuffed full with documents—had to be three or four hundred pages.
“This is all the information I could gather on Katie’s parents,” he said, handing me the folder. “Not much there you don’t already know or guess. They were researchers mainly, collectors of esoteric knowledge and the occasional emissary to other groups. They’d worked with us a few times, long before I showed up. There was one time when a group of refugees escaped from the Vancouver area, fleeing that dragon you killed.” Again, he nodded at me. “Paul and Olivia helped that group escape to friendlier climes, masking their passage so the dragon never found them.”
Both Stuart and Gunther nodded. They knew that story from Jimmy’s childhood.
“They also tracked the gods who were reborn. Seems they thought that at least one had snuck past the dragons in the last decade before they disappeared. One of the top three.”
“Ranked by whom?” Gunther asked.
“Olivia,” Charlie said. “She said it was either Odin, Thor, or Loki. Gottschalk thought she was barking and ignored the signs. But that’s how they met Jeremiah Fletcher.”
Jeremiah was the oldster who’d come out for Jimmy’s funeral; someone who had dealings with the Cornetts in years past.
“Mr. Fletcher is reported to be an operative out of London. Knows where a lot of bodies are buried. He and the Cornetts joined forces to thwart one of the Reaver dragons. Something about a dead prince’s hoard, and a book of spells, key to the British Crown.”
The three of us exchanged glances. We had not heard that story. Katie was gonna love it. Maybe it would get us a chance to meet the royal family.
Stuart jumped in. “Fletcher helped Jimmy, Deidre, Gunther, and me pick up the pieces after Paul and Olivia disappeared. There were some pretty heavy individuals looking to move into their territory, take over their connections, slide in behind them and claim their mission.”
Gunther picked up the story from there. “Jeremiah invoked some powerful magic in that first winter, allowed us to cut the needed threads to shield Black Briar from the big bad world. Gave Jimmy and Deidre time to put down some roots, build up a magical barrier, fall off everyone’s radar.”
I’d always wondered how they’d gone so far underground in so short a time.
Charlie was keeping true to his word. He gave us information we needed, regardless of what he was told to tell us, and in turn we fed him tidbits of news to dribble back to Gottschalk. We wanted him to remain in her good books. Otherwise, he was just as likely to disappear one day.
We all shook hands, and made to leave, when Charlie grabbed my arm, holding me back. Gunther and Stuart stopped a few strides further on, watching, but giving us space.
“I know I said Gottschalk’s talking cat has been gone for weeks. Madame is in a state over him.” He hesitated, debating on his next words. “He came to me in confidence last night, testing the waters, to see if I would be an ally if things went south.”
“So, the cat thinks Gottschalk is in danger?”
“He claims Madame Gottschalk has talked quite loudly of killing him to read his entrails. That doesn’t sit well, even for a cat with lives left in his register.”
“He must be scared. Didn’t you tell me he didn’t like you?”
“Yeah, not a fan,” he said. “Which is why I’m concerned. If he’s reaching out to me, things must be horrible.” He shrugged. “Not sure he totally trusts me.”
“Give the cat some tuna,” I suggested. “I think you can gain some points that way.”
“Har, har,” Charlie said, but I could see he was a bit less worried.
I turned to go again, and he grabbed my hand once more.
“One final thing,” he said, looking like I may punch him. “I’ve heard rumors from some of the others that they knew about the necromancer and what was going down with them.”
I stiffened, ready to punch him as he feared. “Did you know beforehand?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I swear, Sarah. I’d have warned you, but I think there are factions within Gottschalk’s domain. Watch your back.”
He turned to go. He made it half a dozen steps when I thought of something else.
“Hey.”
He turned, his face pale with worry.
“You know anything hinky around Bellingham?”
He looked at me like I’d asked him to fly to the moon. “More than a liberal college with kids who smoke a lot of pot?” he asked, going for funny.
My glare sobered him right up.
“I got nothing,” he said. “Why?”
I shrugged. “Just a hunch. Keep an ear out for anything, will you?”
“Sure thing.” He waved and disappeared into a crowd of cheering nine-year-olds. I watched for him, trying to follow his progress, but lost him in the general scrum of soccer moms.
When we got back to my truck, I told Gunther and Stuart what Charlie had told me about the hints around the blood cult activity out in Chumstick before Christmas.
“That royally pisses me off,” Stuart said, all growly and stern. “I definitely want to discuss it with Qindra.”
I didn’t say anything, but inside I was amazed how our lives were constantly evolving.