“Human sacrifices?” said Jack, blood draining from his face. “I don’t think I like what I’m hearing. It’s only four days until May first. Is it possible that’s what von Bern is planning? On May Eve, he intends to sacrifice the women he kidnapped to the ancient demigod pulling his strings.”
“The demon Gods of antiquity thirst for the souls of the living,” declared Simon. “If von Bern handles the ritual correctly, it would impart to his master incredible power.” The faerie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Godlike power.”
“Perhaps provide the monster with enough energy to destroy civilization,” said Jack. “I’m convinced. We’ve got to find von Bern’s headquarters and stop this mad scheme before it’s too late. For all humanity.”
“That’s not going to be easy,” said Simon. “Particularly considering the headline on today’s paper.”
“What are you talking about?’ Jack asked. He frowned as Simon handed him the front section of the Sunday newspaper.
His eyes bulged as he stared at the bold print. Drug War on Campus! Beneath the headline, in smaller type, the story proclaimed, “College Drug Lord Vanishes, Millions in Narcotics Found in His Apartment!”
Jack’s picture filled the rest of the page.
“I see what you mean,” he said, his hands shaking, as he returned the section to Simon.
23
They convened a council of war in Hazel’s camper. One human, three supernaturals, and one magical cat sat around the kitchen table and debated what to do next. Jack, his face white with anger, tightly clutched the offending newspaper in both hands. He appeared ready to rip it to shreds. His voice trembled with rage when he spoke.
“Von Bern and his flunkies set up this frame perfectly. That Border Redcap Simon and I spotted watching my apartment building was there for a reason. He never stirred because he was waiting for us to leave. That’s when the goon acted, planting the dope in my rooms. The German used a double-edged attack.
“He tried to kill me at the mathematics building. At the same time, he rigged my apartment, knowing I wouldn’t dare return there. When I escaped his one trap, he sprang the second. The newspaper mentioned an anonymous phone tip to Anderson. And I was the one stupid enough to mention dope to the security chief in the first place.”
“Don’t get bent out of shape, Jack,” said Cassandra. “There’s nothing you could have done. If it hadn’t been drugs, the German would have come up with another scheme. He’s a devious bastard. It’s built into his character. The important thing is not letting your anger cloud your good judgment.
“Simply put, you’ve been framed. The Huntsman caught you looking in the wrong direction. Now, not only are von Bern and the Gabble Ratchets hunting you, but the police as well. You’re a wanted man, Jack. What do you plan to do about it?”
“Cassandra’s right,” said Simon. “Von Bern wins this round. He’s put you on the run. Score a point for the bad guy. But, winning a skirmish doesn’t mean the war’s over. Consider the big picture. If we lose, your reputation won’t be the only thing in ruins. Remember, according to Merlin, our entire civilization is at stake.”
“Merlin the Magician,” declared Hazel unexpectedly. She laughed, a high-pitched cackling sound right out of the Saturday morning cartoon shows. “Let him handle your legal problems. He’s sneakier than any lawyer. The Old Boy is an expert untangling sticky situations. He snaps his fingers and all the tangled mess falls into place. Or close enough. Look how he managed that King Arthur nonsense. You worry about saving the world. Once Merlin’s free, he’ll take care of the small stuff.”
“That King Arthur nonsense?” repeated Jack.
“Another time,” said Hazel.
“All right,” said Jack reluctantly. Conversations with the supernaturals drove him crazy. They interspersed their comments with tantalizing mentions of past exploits, but they never clarified any of those points later on. Jack wanted to know more about Willy Shakespeare, Cassandra’s earlier encounters with heroes, and King Arthur. But that would have to wait. Beltane required his immediate attention.
“At least, we have answers to some of the questions concerning this upcoming apocalypse,” continued Jack. “We know who locally is in charge of the enemy. We also know why von Bern kidnapped the women. Beltane answers the question of when he plans to conduct this sacrifice. What we still don’t know is how he managed to conduct his crimes, and where he intends to kill his victims.”
“Whatever you say, Jack,” said Simon, a blank look on his face. “You’re in charge. My relatives will provide whatever support they can. But none of them are willing to take any risks. Von Bern scares them too much. I’m the only one willing to contribute. I’m part of the team.”
“Same with me,” said Cassandra. “I love a good fight. I’m in this to the end. You can count on me. But don’t look at me to offer many ideas. I’m a fighter, not a thinker.”
“That’s the truth about most of us,” said Hazel, nodding her head in agreement. “We act by instinct, not by plan. Which is why humans are always the heroes and we supernatural make up the troops. Sylvester and I are with you too. Jack. If you’ll have us.”
“Of course,” said Jack. “The more the merrier. I need all the help I can get.”
Mentally, Jack grimaced. He had hoped for a few useful suggestions or ideas. By now he should have known better. His friends possessed incredible powers, but original thinking wasn’t included in the list. Deductive reasoning was his job. Unfortunately, even Sherlock Holmes couldn’t solve a mystery without a few clues. And Jack had absolutely nothing.
“Why not talk to the mall nymphs?” said Sylvester, leaping into Hazel’s lap. Purring, the cat made itself comfortable and began cleaning its paws. “They know the answers to lots of questions. It’s part of their nature.”
“What a wonderful suggestion,” said Hazel. “I should have thought of them. The nymphs are neutral, and they love to gossip. Everyone tells them their secrets.”
“Of course they do,” said Simon, grinning. “You can’t make time with a mall nymph unless you tell her a secret.”
“Disgusting little tramps,” said Cassandra with a sneer.
“They seem to enjoy themselves,” said Hazel, cackling again.
Jack winced. The witch’s laughter hurt his ears. “Someone want to fill me in?” he asked. “Who are these mall nymphs? And, more important, can they actually help us?”
“Mall nymphs are the genius loci of shopping malls,” said Simon cheerfully. “Like our friend Cassandra, they date back to the time of ancient Greece.”
“Don’t link me with them,” said Cassandra angrily. She glared at Simon. “Shameless female spirits, they called themselves dryads during the Golden Age. They lived in forest groves, frolicking naked among the trees. Entirely devoid of shame, the vixens delighted in tempting unwary soldiers foolish enough to camp in their glades.”
Jack stifled a grin. With a flash of insight, he realized a basic truth about the Amazon. Cassandra was a prude. He wondered if the trait somehow tied in with her “insidious weakness.” Reminding himself to question Simon about Amazons, he focused his attention on what Hazel was saying.
“Immoral or not, mall nymphs love secrets. They pry them out of any male supernatural they encounter. And, since they are among the most beautiful and definitely the most amorous of all our kind, the girls entertain many, many visitors. I’m sure von Bern or his lieutenants have enjoyed their company numerous times.”
Jack pursed his lips. “Uh, how do you propose persuading these lovely ladies to reveal what they know? Or haven’t you thought about that?”