Letting a couple of magic dowsers in here to comb
through things and prove you don't have anything that can make a goblin sick could
go a long way."
Anger and frustration flash through me. Even in my
mid-thirties, my temper still flashes when the supernatural world looks down on
me simply because I was born without magic. Knowing Blake is not to blame for
this prejudicial thinking, I divert my frustration. "Are you kidding me? Dousers
leave the biggest mess out of the entire supernatural police department. They
go through everything and get their grubby hands everywhere. Last time they
checked anything of mine, I spent weeks trying to find everything, let alone
clean everything they touched. And that's not counting the half a dozen items
that went missing because they have doubts or because you-know-who is a
sticky-fingered dwarf, we all know he has a theft problem." My voice begins
growing louder.
"Yeah, but he is the best at his job."
I glower at Blake, quickly thinking through the
possible scenarios here.
I let the dowsers into the shop to rummage around and
clear me as the prime suspect in a goblin murder or I deal with higher-ups in
the supernatural police department who are hellbent on pinning this on me simply
because as a male child of a witch I must have a large chip on my shoulder and
therefore want to murder supernatural beings.
Sighing heavily, I pull out the walkie-talkie and click
the button a few times to get Sven’s attention. "Sven, got some bad news.
I'm being accused of killing that goblin earlier and now some of the magical
dowsers have to come to check out the store."
There is crackling over the line as Sven let out
some very explicit and physically impossible Dwarfen curses. "If they
don't keep their hands away from the stuff in my office, I am going to rip Red
Beard's fingers, one by one, from his palms."
Looking up from the walkie-talkie I make eye
contact with Blake and give him a fake smile. "Well, I think that's the
all-clear to let the dowsers in."
Blake looks at me warily, and a little relieved.
"Do you need me here to help protect Red Beard from Sven?"
"I mean, only if you care about
dwarf-on-dwarf violence,” I say with a shrug.
"I’ll call it in and get them out here. But
I'm getting you a containment crew first, because that crap freaking smells to
high heaven.” Blake pivots and walks straight out of the store.
"Red Beard’s not allowed in here unless I'm
watching him like a hawk."
I jump, startled by the sound of Sven's voice
right behind me. The man needs a bell. He is incredibly stout and appears to
the world, thanks to his glamour, like a short, plump, heavily wrinkled man in
his seventies
The rest of the time he has long, white-gray hair
and a matching pointed beard, a large wart above the right corner of his mouth
and only about half as many wrinkles as his human-looking counterpart does. He is
also stouter and healthier looking than the glamour would let people believe.
"I'll be here too, as will Blake." I try
to sound nonchalant as if he didn’t just scare me out of my wits.
Sven starts muttering something under his breath
about no one being able to watch a dwarf as well as a dwarf as he turns around
and heads back toward his office.
"This is shaping up to be a fun
afternoon," I complain to no one in particular.
Thank you for hosting me today!
ReplyDeleteYou're very welcome! :)
Deletei love books about magic!
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