An Unexpected Visitor
An Inkling of Magic - Chapter 9
Farren, on the other hand, turned out to not be as easily assuaged as Kieran. Elspeth had texted him as Kieran had started up the engine to stop the barrage of texts and voicemails she knew would be coming if she didn't at least send him some sort of a response. She'd winced when Kieran had pulled into the drive and, through the rain, she could already see the silhouetted form of her brother, with his arms and legs crossed, leaning expectantly against the front door.
“That's not a good enough answer, Els!” Farren scolded in hushed tones, following closely behind her as they went inside the house.
“I never said it was!” Elspeth countered sharply, matching his tone. Maelyn was about somewhere and neither of them wished to attract her attention. It was something she truly appreciated about her brother, despite his own frustrated concern for Elspeth, he was generally careful to keep his interrogations private and not involve their older sister if he could help it.
Farren huffed an exasperated sigh and ran his hand through his hair in frustration, leaving it sticking up all over as if he'd just fallen out of bed.
“I know something is going on with you, Els, and I've a good idea what it is though you've carefully managed to avoid confirming it,” he told her when he'd calmed down a little. It appeared her answering his questions the other night with another question had not gone unnoticed after all. “What I don't know is why you won't let me help you.”
“What is there to help!” Elspeth blurted. Her eyes went wide and her hands flung up to cover her mouth when she realized her unintended volume.
For a moment, they both just held their breath as they waited to hear the voice and footsteps of Maelyn coming to find out what the fuss was about. A relived sigh escaped Elspeth's lips when that didn't happen.
“What is there to help?” she asked again, this time quieter and with a slight note of resignation clinging to her voice. “I don't know why, after all these years, it's happening again, but it is. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Farren frowned at her question.
“Of course not, Els, but I think you mistake the reason for my concern.”
Elspeth cocked her head a little, an eyebrow raising to invite him to explain himself.
“I've already told you, Els, who am I to say whether you are crazy or not? That's not what I'm worried about, it's the fact that this is upsetting you that has me concerned,” he told her gently, his eyes a little moist as they pleaded with her to let him help.
Elspeth chewed on her bottom lip. She was torn. Would it really be so bad if she let him try and help? He was even more liable to have at Derek than Kieran was, not that she was truly interested in protecting Derek so much as she didn't want either her brother or her friend getting themselves into even more trouble on her behalf than they already had over the years. Also, there was something about Derek's nonchalance when confronted and the way his lips would quirk up into that irritating smile and his eyes would dance that always gave her an uneasy feeling that, somehow, they would not be a match for Derek in an actual fight. It was like he found their attempts to intimidate and threaten him to be amusing.
“Can you give me just a little more time?” she heard herself ask before the question had even fully formed in her mind.
“Els...,”
“Please, Farren? I hardly even know what's going on myself, let alone how you can help me with it,” Elspeth interrupted, “just give me another couple of days, please?”
His brows drew together as he considered her request. He didn't like it, that much was obvious, but would he come around?
Elspeth waited anxiously for what felt like hours before she saw his shoulders drop as he gave a reluctant sigh of acquiescence. She could feel the smile spreading across her face at knowing she had won herself a short reprieve.
“Thank you!” Elspeth sighed, flinging her arms around her brother's neck before he had a chance to say anything or change his mind.
“Don't make me regret this, Els,” Farren said as his own arms came to wrap tightly around his sister's medium-build frame.
Elspeth's eyes closed as she hugged him tighter, but the words of reassurance that she longed to give him died on her tongue and refused to pass her lips.
~...~...~...~...~...~
With a huff of annoyance, Elspeth's head flopped back against the mound of pillows she'd piled upon her bed and just starred at the bedroom ceiling and the way that the mural she'd painted years ago with the help of her parents stretched out from the walls to toy at the edges of the ceiling. It was a scene from one of her favorite books of a wooded landscape at twilight and a caravan of elves as they made journey to a harbour from which they would depart for a distant land, never again return, and the tops of the trees reached up to the dusty lavender ceiling with stars painted just above them.
She'd been reading and rereading Mr. Grimmlich's letter all morning trying to understand it. Mr. Grimmlich said she needed to stop fighting herself and Granny told her to take a leap of faith, but how? How exactly was she supposed to leap from what she'd been told was rational thought to believe in the fantastical? How was she to accept that what everyone else around her couldn't see and hear and said was all fairy tales and nonsense was as real as they were? Even to her own ears it sounded crazy, and yet Mr. Grimmlich had said in his letter that she wasn't and even Derek had implied the same and she knew what she had seen and heard. She'd not lied as had first been thought.
As her senses continued to clash with everything she'd been taught to believe, a somewhat similar situation from another beloved book floated into Elspeth's mind about a young girl whose siblings didn't believe her about what she'd seen, but, when asked if she was mad or given to lying and being forced to answer no, the only logical remaining conclusion then was that she was telling the truth.
Logical? How was any of this logical? Elspeth wondered with a short, humourless laugh. Isn't it logical to believe the evidence of one's own eyes and ears? A quiet voice asked in Elspeth's mind. Her lips pursed as she considered the voice. Why did it sound like Derek?
“One thing at a time, Els,” she muttered to herself, closing her eyes as if it could block out the chaos her head and heart and been flung into, “one thing at a time. Finding out if I'm funny farm bound can wait a little while longer. First, let's worry about finding Mr. Grimmlich.”
She couldn't wait too long though as Farren was waiting for her explanation and she'd have nothing more to tell him than she did right now.
~...~...~...~...~...~
Not knowing what else to do, Elspeth found herself back in Mr. Grimmlich's office at the back of the bookstore. This time though, she wasn't so much interested in what books might be missing, but rather in the missing owner of said books. Despite her earlier reservations of looking through his private papers, Elspeth had gone through every note on every scrap of paper she could find in hopes of finding the faintest clue as to why he had left that day. Nothing, her search had turned up precisely nothing.
With her elbows propped up on the old desk, Elspeth slumped forward and placed her head on her hands. Since meeting him, she'd rarely gone this long without seeing him and it really had her worried. It wasn't like him at all to be away from his books for so long.
Rolling her head to the side to lean against her left hand, her other hand fell away from her face as she tossed Mr. Grimmlich's phone a look that would have had even a gorgon freezing in its tracks. If he didn't insist on using a relic of centuries past, she could at least check his call log for the day he left and have something to work worth! As it was, all she had was a translucent puddle with its disappearing act at the entry to the back office that still needed to be cleaned up, but that she didn't dare touch. Although, oddly enough, it didn't seem to be fading as much as when she first saw it.
She was still glaring at the phone with profound irritation when, though the eerie stillness, she heard the gentle tinkling of the bells at the front of the store.
“I locked that door,” Elspeth said, her head shooting up in alarm to stare at the unlit aisles beyond the open doorway of the office. Her body rigid with apprehension, she tried to listen for any other noises of the unexpected intruder.
Nothing. She heard precisely nothing, not even the squeaking of the old oak floorboards. Swallowing deeply, Elspeth slowly raised her tension stiffened body up off the chair and inched towards the doorway.
This is a really dumb idea, Els! Her mind screaming at her as, mindful of the caustic liquid, she stepped out onto the store floor.
“Where are they?” Elspeth said, muttering under her breathe. 'Where' was only half the question though and not even the one that concerned her the most. The question of 'who' was the one foremost in her mind followed closely by the additional questions of 'why' and 'what.'
At last hearing what sounded like footfalls approaching from one of the labyrinthine aisles of books, Elspeth frantically glanced about for something she could use as a weapon. Failing to find anything more suitable, she grabbed the largest hardbound book near her and prepared to swing it with all of her might. Then, picking an aisle, she held her breath and, with each second dragging on for what felt like an hour, she waited by where she thought the intruder might arrive.
“Elspeth? What on earth on you doing here?”
The involuntary scream that left her as she about jumped through the roof was still ringing in her ears when, breathing hard, she turned around to face the owner of the voice that had startled her by its unexpected intrusion.
“Mrs. Hythe,” Elspeth breathed out half panting when she saw who it was that had entered the store, “what are you doing here?”
“I have a key,” she said plainly by way of explanation, “but don't you think you should be more concerned with answering my question? Or should I call the police and have you give them your answer instead?”
Elspeth fought the urge to squirm beneath her English teacher's raised eyebrow. She could swear that, with that little gesture, Mrs. Hythe had the power to stop whole armies in their tracks.
“I also have a key,” Elspeth answered weakly, having finally found her voice again. “Mr. Grimmlich asked me to mind his store when he left three days ago.”
“Did he now,” Mrs. Hythe said, her tone striking an odd cord with Elspeth. It was like the purr of a self-satisfied cat mingled with curiosity and a hint of laughter. The twinkle in her teacher's eyes also suggested that she found some measure of amusement in her answer, though she couldn't fathom why.
“Though that really only answers, how you're here, given that the door was locked when I arrived, and not what it is that you're actually doing here. This store can mind itself quite well when it's locked up,” she continued, her expression returning to the stern look Elspeth had often witnessed her turn on her classmates whenever they would speak out of turn. “Elspeth?”
This time she did squirm a little, shifting uncomfortably under Mrs. Hythe's expectant gaze.
“Well, when Mr. Grimmlich didn't come back the other night.....,” Elspeth tried awkwardly to explain.
“I see. So you let yourself in to snoop about Mr. Grimmlich's affairs then, did you?”
“I wouldn't exactly put it that way,” Elspeth argued.
“Then how would you put it?”
Elspeth tried to come up with a satisfactory answer as to how her poking about wasn't snooping into the storekeeper's private business, but failed to come up with one. Despite her excuse of concern for Mr. Grimmlich, a perfectly valid one in her mind, Elspeth rather doubted that others would see it that way.
“He's been gone for three days,” she said at last, her fear colouring her words.
“People go away all the time, Elspeth, – whether on business or for pleasure. That's no cause for alarm or invasion of their privacy,” came Mrs. Hythe's reply.
“Yes, other people do, but this is Mr. Grimmlich we're talking about!” Elspeth exclaimed, “he gets homesick for his books just leaving them for an hour to close up for lunch!”
She watched as Mrs. Hythe smothered a snort of laughter at her description of the elderly German's love for his paper friends. Every word of it was true. One time, he had left her in the store when he'd gone out for lunch and, when he came back, Elspeth could hear is loud proclamation of 'my lovelies, I'm back!' from her usual corner of the store.
“On top of that,” she added more sedately and with no small measure of uncertainty, “when I came back two days ago to look for him, I found the store had been broken into.”
At this, all trace of humour disappeared from her teacher's face.
“Elspeth, are you certain?” she asked with a tone as hard as winter.
She nodded vigorously.
“I came back to the store two days ago to look for Mr. Grimmlich and find out what had kept him from coming back the night before, and the front door was already unlocked and partially open,” she explained, the words tumbling from her mouth like an avalanche from an overstuffed cupboard.
“Slow down, Elspeth, I hardly caught a word of what you just said,” said Mrs. Hythe.
Talking a deep breath to calm down, Elspeth tried again to recount the story of the break in, leaving out the parts about finding Derek in the store and the strange liquid on the floor. Mrs. Hythe, in turn, listened intensely to every word she said, not giving away a single thought beyond the seriousness of her expression.
“Have the police been called?” she asked when Elspeth had finished.
Elspeth expression fell at the question.
“No?” she replied somewhat sheepishly, “Apart from the door being open, there was no sign of forced entry and I couldn't find anything missing. There was so little to tell them, I didn't know if I should.”
Very little that made sense anyway. She added to herself.
To her surprise, Mrs. Hythe actually seemed relieved by her answer and heaved a heavy sigh.
“And nothing was missing you said?”
She shook her head, “Not from what I could tell.”
“And is there anything else I need to know?”
“No,” yes, she answered not knowing why exactly she was refraining from telling her about Derek. Because then you'll have to tell her about everything else, including the basilisk venom. Not that she believed him about it, of course.
The only response was a noncommittal 'hmm' as Mrs. Hythe continued to watch her. It was then that Elspeth noticed that, along with her purse, she was carrying a small tote bag that looked to be fairly burdened down.
The feeling of misgiving was beginning to be a familiar one an, before she could stop herself, she was re-voicing her earlier question.
“Mrs. Hythe, why are you here again?” she asked uneasily, her eyes never straying from the tote bag in her hands.
A look of confusion washed across Mrs. Hythe's face until she noticed where Elspeth's eyes were focused.
“Oh! Goodness me, no,” she laughed when she realized where Elspeth's mind had gone, “no, Elspeth, I have not returned to the scene of the crime to return a stolen book. Though, mind you, our friend Mr. Grimmlich has more than a few volumes that would be most tempting to pilfer.”
Elspeth breathed a sigh of relief. For whatever reason, she believed her. Just as she found herself inclined to believe Derek and his claims from the other day about finding the store in the same state that she had. Inclined mind you, but not totally convinced.
“Then what's in the bag?” Elspeth asked, still very confused as to why she was there.
Mrs. Hythe's eyes sparkled with excitement as she produced a whole and completely raw chicken from her bag.
“It's a treat for Evangeline! I often look after her when Mr. Grimmlich is away, but, for various reasons, I'm afraid I can't take her home with me; so I look in on her here. Come, help me find a good place to hide this for her.”
Feeling at little on the nauseous side and considerably perplexed, Elspeth followed after her without a word. Not for the first time though, she found herself curious as to just what sort of pet it was that the gentle, old bookstore owner kept.