Centaur of the Crime: Book One of 'Fantasy and Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 1) (14 page)

“And one has seen evidence as well?”

Nothing got by this bird. “Evidence has not pointed true, not yet. It has been collected. One must seek the truth from it.”

“It is all as we thought. Come! Join us at the center table for breaking-of-the-fast. The Albess wishes to see you.” And with that, Xandra spread her wings. With a silent pair of beats, she took to the air and vanished into the gloom.

“I’m impressed,” Kajari said, inclining his head towards me. “Apparently your mind can unravel their speech. It’s a challenge from time to time.”

“You should listen to some of the city bureaucrats I have to work with,” I replied, though I couldn’t help but smile a little. It was nice to impress Kajari without stepping on his toes or calling him a murder suspect, for a change.

“Indeed!” He lay a warm hand on my arm for a moment, almost protectively. “Enjoy your breakfast with our legislators. I must go rescue our wizard from the demands of the court. I will return shortly.”

“I’m sure I can keep myself entertained with the, ah, Parliament.”

“Of that I have no doubt. Dining with Albess Thea is an honor. She’s something of a holy figure in Andeluvia.” Kajari leaned in and spoke quietly, under his breath. “I’ve found that she can be a little touchy. Take care not to offend her.”

With that sobering bit of advice, Kajari turned and strode off into the deepening dusk of the evening. I swallowed hard, and then walked further into the gloomy interior of the room. The air felt pleasantly cool and slightly moist, much like the atmosphere inside a large cavern. I realized with a start that the place reminded me, appropriately perhaps, of a well-kept cave.

My mouth watered as once again, I smelled the incongruous scent of freshly baked puff pastry. The light level increased as I drew towards the center of the room. I blinked in surprise as I found myself at one end of a long wooden table, piled high with food. Silver platters coddled stacks of baked goods, drizzled with gravy, frosting, or dabs of sugar. Plump tureens held dark, steaming stews or something like pigs-in-a-blanket smothered in a Day-Glo colored glaze.

The chairs on both sides of the table had a little towel-rack shaped bar hung over the back. The avians would swoop in to perch on whatever chair was close to the delicacy of their choosing, snatch a selection, and then wolf it down owlishly. It was fascinating to watch, but I heard someone call my name down towards the other end of the table.

“It is she, it is she,” I heard Xandra’s voice say, as I drew near. Her talons clutched the chair bar and she bobbed her head excitedly. She extended a wing towards me, beckoning, while indicating the owl perched next to her with the other. “One shall exchange familiarities. Dayna-of-another-world, now meet our Head of Parliament. One wishes to introduce Thea, the Albess.”

“I am honored, Albess Thea,” I said simply.

Duke Kajari had warned me not to offend the Albess. But he hadn’t specified any manners or protocol. So I politely inclined my head, the way I’d seen Kajari do. It was tougher to do than I’d expected.

The Albess’ dignified stance upon her perch reminded me of the stone lions one could find by the steps of a courthouse. Her eyes were the color of weak lemonade, and her pupils contained the milky cloud of early cataracts. But those eyes fixed on me with laser-like intensity. Her stern gaze filled me with anxiety, as if she were contemplating how a chunk of my earlobe would taste.

But that feeling dissipated with Thea’s first words.

“My dear child, the one who should be honored is I. A long way round you have come to us, as we say.” The Albess’ warm, summery voice made her sound like the kind of woman Walt Disney would cast as the fairy godmother or the enchanted teapot. “Dark be the reasons for your visit, but a joy it is to see you.”

“I’ll do my best to uncover the one who brought you such sadness,” I said. Thea bobbed her head and ruffled her pretty feathers. Where Xandra and the other owls were mottled brown and black, Thea’s plumage had the pure creamy orange shade of a Dreamsicle.

“One must need alone-time whence speaking to she-from-another-world,” the Albess said to Xandra. The younger owl bobbed her head, and then took flight. A
clack
as Thea shifted her perch. She nodded towards the table. “You have not eaten since arrival, so I observe. Please, partake. Enjoy.”

My stomach rumbled in agreement. I’d been on the run since I woke up in Benedict’s palace, and had never even thought of sustenance. I looked out eagerly over the sea of stews and pastries.

“I’m not sure what to try,” I said, as I picked up an empty plate. “There’s so much to choose from.”

“Oh, the court of Benedict makes all this for us, freshly killed each evening,” Thea said approvingly. She jabbed a talon at various dishes, pointing out some of her favorites with obvious relish. “Over here is stewed mouse. Next to it is grilled mouse in goat’s milk gravy. Filleted mouse in clotted cream. Pan fried mouse, mouse with beets and turnips, chunked mouse in mint jelly…”

My stomach rumbled again, this time firmly not in agreement.

“And that’s just the first course,” Thea continued. “We also have mouse turnovers, mouse scrapple, mouse cobbler, mouse blood pudding—”

“Do you have…” My voice trailed off, desperately trying to heed Duke Kajari’s warning about Thea’s touchiness.

“Yes?”

“Anything without…quite so much ‘mouse’ in it?”

The Albess pondered the question. She nodded at a nearby raised platter, which held a kind of pie. Sinister-looking lumps jutted out from the glazed top. “Well, there is broiled mouse tart. There’s not
much
mouse in that.”

“I’ll try it,” I said. I found some silverware at the edge of the table, cut myself a slice big enough to look like I was enjoying the bounty of Thea’s table, and then speared a piece with a fork. The Albess watched me curiously as I popped it in my mouth.

All right. I know, I’m the kind of woman who’s tolerated enough gross stuff to actually formulate a Scale of Stinkiness (patent pending). And I’ve even been ornery enough to use that tolerance to gross other people out, to get them clear of my work zone.

Apparently, all that negative karma I’d earned wasn’t going to wait until the next life in order to get me.

The texture hit me first. At first gooey, mushy. Overcooked peas held together by strings of melted caramel and butter. Followed by the chewy, leathery feel of the meat chunks. The snap of tiny bones in my mouth, which made me think of pork cracklings. As for the taste…my poor, abused tongue picked up sautéed onion, something starchy like a potato, diced apples, and cider vinegar.

Oh, yes, and broiled mouse. Can’t forget the mouse.

“In-ter-esting,” I said. I suppressed a shudder as I swallowed. “How much mouse is in this, exactly?”

“Oh, four or five.” Thea considered for a moment. “Rather a lot, really.”

I fully intended to go for a second bite, but my stomach made a little lurch in protest. Instead, my hands sought and found a carafe of water. I chugged the contents down in an unladylike manner. I figured that I could probably convince the Albess that this was the way polite society drank in my world.

“Now that you’ve had a bite,” Thea said, apparently unperturbed by my poor manners, “the right person you are, to find the one that struck the King down. I believe you need one last thing to succeed. And I wish to share what it is with you.”

“I’m all ears, Albess Thea.”

“Such a fine expression! All ears!” Thea made a ‘hoo!’ and added, “You must leave the palace this very night. For what you lack is a being of fey magic. You need one of the
Fayleene
.”

Chapter Sixteen

I still had problems reading the expressions of the Albess and her fellow owls. But this time, my guess was that Thea enjoyed the puzzled look that crossed my face. She deftly hooked a set of her talons around the handle of a specially shaped spoon. Balancing easily on one leg, she used the other to take heaping spoonfuls of mouse stew from a tureen set next to her perch.

“All right, I’ll bite,” I said. “I don’t know what ‘fey’ magic is, to start with.”

Thea let out a series of hoots that made up an owlish chuckle. “My laughter is not in your direction,” she said apologetically. “But fey magic should be something every world should know about, even yours.”

I shook my head, so she continued.

“Men think ‘fey’ means ‘fairy’. It means both less and more. Magic it is, but of the fallow field, of the evergreen forest, of the stillness before the sun rises. The Fayleene, who live in the woods to the north, are made of this magic.”

“And how will a ‘Fay-leene’ help my investigation?”

“Not directly help, I think. But indirectly, yes. For centuries, no one with a Fayleene on their side has ever failed at a task, or lost a battle. They bring luck. I believe in their luck because their magic is subtle. Subtle and potent.”

“So I’m supposed to search for one of these…magic fairy types to join me.”

Thea ruffled her feathers, and said, with a touch of smugness, “Fayleene can cross a meadow without shaking free a single drop of dew, so stealthy are they. If they do not wish to be found, they are not. But I have asked them to aid you.”

“And they said yes?”

Thea blinked. “As point of fact, no. But they did not refuse, which is promising, for them. They asked to see you, as soon as is practical.”

I considered this. I couldn’t say that I was looking forward to another long ride in search of some Tinker Bell pixie. I already felt a little ragged around the edges. And in need of a relaxing hot soak in a tub. One with enough bath salt in it to make the Dead Sea look like a freshwater pond.

“I see you are tired,” Thea said, sympathetically. I opened my mouth to protest, but she gently tapped my shoulder with one wing. “I hear it in your voice. Fatigue and I have become longtime, if not welcome friends.”

“I hope you haven’t been ill, Albess.”

“I shoulder my burden of years, as all do. I find it hard to fly straight anymore. My vision dims. Many of my issues reside deep in my gut, I think.”

“Perhaps a little too much mouse in the diet?” I inquired politely.

“No, dear. My problems involve the passing of water. Until recently, some of our own nobles at court had similar issues. Owls and humans remedy these problems the same way, with juniper berries brought down from the mountains.”

Thea sighed, and then leaned forward on her perch. Her voice took on a dreamy aspect as she added, “One should know that juniper berries are more than a cure-all for poor, old owls. They help one to nose out the truth. To help one go beyond the lids that can close. To shut out the lies.”

I frowned, not sure what to make of those last words. Did I detect a touch of senility? Or the cadence of a riddle? But before I could speak, a pair of owls appeared from out of the darkness. They settled on a nearby perch with a half-dozen quiet wing beats. I recognized one as Xandra.

“Such an evening!” Xandra said, “So many guests, so many indeed. Multitudinous, one thinks.”

“One thinks also that company attracts like, and like attracts company,” the new owl added.

With a start, I realized that I hadn’t had to decipher most of Thea’s speech, but with these two, my brain had to re-engage. The best I could tell, they meant that more people were on the way, and they had something to do with me.

“One can grasp these facts with but a single talon,” Thea replied. “See you to your business, allow one to hostess properly.”

The owls bowed and fluttered off. I heard the door to the Parliament building open with the harsh creak of hinges in desperate need of oiling. The owls at their writing set up a new chorus of excited ‘hoos!’ as two forms picked their way through the dimly lit room and towards the table. As they drew into the light, I made out the Duke’s proud silhouette first. Galen’s tall equine frame came next. The centaur wore a saddle bag and a sword in a leather scabbard around the equine portion of his body.

“My sincere apologies for disturbing you, Albess,” Duke Kajari said.

“One takes apologies like sleet or hail,” Thea said, a little frostily, I thought. “Accepted, but hardly welcomed with joy. What sets one’s brow ill-at-ease?”