Muddled Mutt Read online

  “Oh, my head.” Beezley fought to get on his feet, rolling over successfully on the third try. He staggered upright, shaking his head and immediately wincing with regret. “All I remember from last night was finding the mermaid who isn’t, then a man blowing a spray of dust into my eyes.

  “That explains why my eyes are so scratchy.” I slumped against the wall and examined the room—no, the cell. There was a lot of space, with four metres along each side, but nothing of interest inside it. On the wall opposite the window was a door and along the far wall was another one. They were made of some metal, probably iron judging from the rust creeping out from the corners.

  They might be unlocked but I didn’t hold much hope of it. I decided to stay put for another few minutes to see if my head would calm down rather than launch to my feet to give the handles a try.

  Beezley stumbled along each wall, pacing out the cell. His eyes were much brighter by the time he came back to me, his tail giving a quick wag. “Brianna and her mother were in on this.”

  “At least we brought them together. I wonder if restoring her legs was the deal for our capture.”

  “Miserable witches,” Beezley growled. “I think we should stick to human-only cases from now on.”

  He nudged me and I pulled him into my lap, hugging him close. Until that moment, I hadn’t understood how cold it was in the cell, but his warmth made me crave for more. A breeze blew through the gap covered in bars. Nobody had bothered to fill them in with glass.

  “What’s that on your neck?” Beezley asked, nudging his wet nose under my chin.

  A thick chain was hanging around it. The weight was too much to be a straight necklace, but I couldn’t feel any restraints. “Maybe someone thought I deserved a piece of jewellery.”

  “Then that someone should have their head read. It’s ugly.”

  My fingers didn’t like the touch of it, either. The metal used had a greasy feel, and I wiped my hands on my jeans to rid them of the touch. “How are we going to get out of here?”

  “Do we even know where here is?” Beezley asked, his face drooping mournfully. “The last thing I remember is it being dark and close to midnight. Given there’s now light in the sky, we could have been driven miles away.”

  I pushed him out of my lap and stood up, using the wall as a support. “How about I lift you up to the window and you tell me what you see? I can’t imagine anyone enticing us to The Briary if they were just going to transport us somewhere else.”

  Of course, right then and there, I couldn’t conceive of someone doing anything that involved forethought and effort. My brains and my body were both coming up zero on that score. Lifting a dog above my head seemed like an unconquerable feat.

  But I rallied and managed. A snapshot view of Beezley’s puckered hole was my reward until I had the good sense to turn my head away. “What’d you see?”

  “It could be the same town. There’s a park bench opposite me with a heap of tinsel hanging off it and the lampposts are those fancy iron ones.”

  The replica Victorian posts were a building craze that arose at the same time gated communities caught on and failed as fast as the developer’s bridge loans.

  “Is there anyone walking around up there?”

  “A car drove by but that’s about it. It’s morning but it must be too early for most people.”

  “Do you want to try screaming for help, anyway?”

  There was a long pause—long enough that I looked at him and saw an expression of dismay on his face.

  “Just a small shout?”

  “Help us! We’re dying in here!” Beezley wriggled as soon as the words were out of his mouth and I set him back on the floor, my aching arms immediately giving me thanks.

  “Well, if that doesn’t bring a hero to our rescue, I don’t know what will.”

  Beezley trotted to the far wall, sniffing along the base of the door. “There’s no need to be aggravating. If there’s no one out there to hear us, me shouting louder or a better choice of phrase isn’t going to make a difference. Can you give this handle a tug?”

  I tested both doors, finding neither of them unlocked. The one on the sidewall had a metal door covering a peephole with the knob on our side. I pulled it down, hoping there might be another prisoner in the next cell, but it was empty.

  If we pulled a Count of Monte Cristo, we’d still have no one to talk to.

  “Can’t you…?” Beezley nodded at my hands and danced a few steps to the side. “Just this once?”

  “We don’t even know who’s holding us captive. If I break us out of here by exploding the place around our ears, we could both get severely hurt. Surely, we should wait until we find out what the other alternative is before trying that?”

  “Coward.” Beezley trotted over to the main door and scratched beneath it. “We were fine the last time your magic exploded a building. All your excuses won’t change that fact.”

  We had been fine but the thought of what could have happened made my toes curl and my heartbeat go double time. The crack of the lodge as it broke in two reappeared as a phantom echo in my ears.

  The man who caused me to react that way was the same man who imprisoned me and Beezley now. That thought also caused my stomach muscles to tighten and bile to rise in my throat.

  Perhaps I could just send out a little…?

  I bore down, reaching for the spells that sung inside me, asking them to emerge and help me in my current task.

  “What are you doing?” Beezley asked with a barking laugh. “You look like you’re trying to dig a hole with your mind.”

  “The power’s not there!”

  “What?”

  I held my hand out. There was no crimson light swirling across the surface. No song rose in my belly to fill my heart with joy and buzz across the surface of my skin.

  “It’s the chain,” Beezley said, jerking his nose at the object.

  I reached for it again, feeling along its length for a clasp to open it. When I found nothing, I pulled at it, trying to bend it into a different shape using only my bare hands. The metal didn’t resist so much as not even notice I was trying. It stayed exactly the same shape. Resolute.

  “Can you try biting it?” I bent down, pulling up my pageboy hair to allow him easy access. When he didn’t make a move, I shot an imploring glance his way. “Come on. Just give it a try.”

  “It’s hard enough being trapped in this body without losing my teeth to foolishness. A minute ago, you were busy justifying why you couldn’t possibly use your black magic powers, now you’re desperate to get them back. How about you pick a side and stay on it?”

  “I want the choice of using them or not. Without my powers, there’s no way out of here except by someone setting us free.”

  “If you can’t budge the chain using your hands what makes you think my teeth will do a better job.” Beezley bared them, the long incisors glistening in the strengthening light. A burst of his breath reminded me I hadn’t brushed his teeth for a while.

  “Fine.” I let my hair drop and sat cross-legged on the floor, feeling despair wash over me. I’d been without magic powers once before when Glynda took my white magic away from me, but this felt different.

  My original powers were insipid compared to the strength of my black magic. The constant song of the occult spells in my body was a comfort even when I knew, and they knew, there was little chance of them being put to use.

  “Come on,” I sang to my chest. “Come out from where you’re hiding. It’s just a piece of metal around my neck. There’s nothing to fear.”

  “If you want to try moving a piece of immovable metal, there’s a door over here I could use a hand with.” Beezley cocked his head at me. “Want to use your power of song on the handle?”

  My retort died on my lips as the clop of footsteps sounded outside. They walked directly towards us, stopping right outside the door.

  “Hello, my little friends,” a male voice sang out, the notes playing sharp in my
ear. “Time to get to work.”

  A key turned in the lock and I had never wanted anything so much as I wanted the man outside to go away.

  Chapter Nine

  “My name is Aloysius, but you can call me, Sir.” The man giggled like an ageing camp queen, a hand delicately hovering in front of his tittering mouth.

  “How about you let us out of here and neither of us ever call you at all?” I said, placing my hands on my hips to hide their shaking. “Holding us here is a crime and one my supreme won’t be happy about.”

  “Really.” Aloysius placed a finger in the corner of his mouth. “It seems to me, Glynda would be glad to be shot of you. Nothing but trouble, that’s what I hear. Had your powers taken off you for bad behaviour.”

  “Redeemed myself a lot since then, mate,” I spat back. “And no supreme likes to lose their witches to another coven. Even a witch as dim as you should know that.”

  “Oh, I’m not a witch, dear.” He turned and took three steps away before twisting back to me and Beezley, beckoning us forward with his finger. “I promise you that the event I have planned right now is something you’ll both want to see.”

  He gave another high-pitched giggle that made my eardrums shiver and a chill run the length of my back. With a quick glance at Beezley, who shrugged, we followed along behind him. Outside lay the chance for escape, after all.

  With this nutcase apparently running things, it also offered the chance for things to take a quick turn south.

  The sun outside the cells was our first reward. Even so early in the day, it warmed us through in a few minutes; the surrounding air pregnant with humidity. Aloysius led us to a single bleacher stand, seating us in the middle seats, front row, like guests of honour.

  Other people soon joined us, crowding into seats and standing nearby when they were filled.

  A jet plane flew overhead, a contrail tracing its path across the sky. As my eyes followed its progress, I wished I could be aboard it; fighting to open a packet of cheese and crackers for the amusement factor as much as needing a snack.

  “Don’t look now, but Brianna and her mother are still in town,” Beezley whispered out of the side of his mouth. Unfortunately, in his doggie shape, he’d never mastered the volume control, and several heads turned around.

  “Welcome to the event, ladies and gentlemen,” Aloysius yelled, and the crowd immediately settled. The show of power was bigger than anything else he’d done, and my hands wrung together in my lap. If he ordered these gentle townsfolk to tear Beezley limb from limb, I had a dreadful feeling they’d obey.

  “You’ve had the pleasure of meeting our new resident mermaid before,” he continued, gesturing to Brianna to parade across the stage. “She’s helped me out greatly in a little quest I had, so now it’s time to pay the other half of her fee and transform her wonderful friend.”

  Delia waved as she walked over to stand by Aloysius, earning herself a glare when she ventured too close. A curtsey to him appeared to mend his displeasure, and he nodded to his right, where a minion opened a horsebox, leading out its resident.

  Instead of a horse, an old man walked out, blinking in the light. A chain hung around his neck and my hand crept up to my own as the minion unfastened it. When the old gent gave him a confused glance, the helper pushed him towards Delia. “You’re meant to change her back to human,” he said in a helpful shout.

  The hairs on my arms stood on end as I realised, he must be the animus healer we’d chased for many months now. No wonder our friends couldn’t find him. Aloysius must have held him prisoner all this time.

  My heart went out to the old dude as he stumbled forward, gently touching the back of his neck where the chain had rubbed it raw. His eyes were puzzled as he stared at the crowds surrounding him. The way he flinched at any sound made me think he’d occupied the cell next to ours. Maybe not this morning, but for a long time.

  “Now, please. Let’s have absolute silence so the man can work his magic.”

  Aloysius stood back, waving the animus healer in front of him. I caught a whisper as they passed. “Don’t make any mistakes, old man. Remember who you’ll end up punishing.”

  I grew fearful for Delia. The pudgy woman stood with a beaming smile on her face. The crinkled cellophane wings buzzed with excitement and her hands were pressed together in front of her, as though in prayer.

  “What c-creature are you?” the animus healer asked. “I’m s-sorry. I don’t recognise your form.”

  Delia whispered something, but he cupped a hand to his ear, his face straining. “I’m a housefly,” she shouted, and he nodded while the audience laughed.

  Lucinda gave a nod full of satisfaction. Her greasy smile made me feel like I was choking. How had we let these reprobates lead us straight into a trap? Why shouldn’t Beezley’s goodness triumph over their evil? I purposefully left myself out of that equation, knowing full well I’d done some dodgy things in my time.

  “Silence,” Aloysius reminded the crowd as they filled the delay with chatter. “Absolute silence while the master concentrates.”

  Would this be my future? Being trotted out to demonstrate my powers in return for a few hours of freedom before being locked back in my cage?

  Beside me, Beezley’s frame was held tight with excitement. He stood on the edge of the chair with his eyes glued to the healer’s hands. His one chance to go back to a normal life stood in front of him. I should quiet my disruptive thoughts and let him have this moment, at least.

  The animus healer’s hands glowed with green light, growing stronger with each second. Delia cast a nervous glance over her shoulder and her friend Brianna twisted one leg from side to side. She nodded and turned back to face the magic.

  “I command the creature that resides within your form to be gone.” The animus closed in on Delia and stroked his hands down the length of her body—not touching but surrounding her in the strange green glow. “Its parts shall leave you and return you to the state in which you were born.”

  Aloysius cleared his throat and shot a meaningful glance at the man, who swallowed and nodded, whispering something under his breath.

  He backed up, the stream of green flowing from his hands and growing stronger with each second. It was hard to make out Delia’s shape within the light. I heard her nervous laugh then the animus healer swept his hands down. “CREATURE BE GONE!!!”

  The green light pulsed out in a wave, whipping my hair into disarray and knocking one woman over. An aftereffect danced in my vision for a second, then I gasped as Delia burst into tears.

  Her wings were gone. She pulled up her jeans and sobbed as human legs came into view. Her body had transformed in other ways, growing slender instead of squat and fat, and her skin glowed with good health.

  “I’m free!” she shouted, and the crowd cheered.

  Beezley jumped off the seat and ran to her. He skipped around Delia twice before running to the animus healer. “Do me. Please do me!”

  As the elderly gentleman bent over, the minion came up behind him, affixing the chain around his neck. The animus roared in anger. “You promised!” he shouted, striking the helper across the face so hard he fell to the ground. The healer ran straight at Aloysius, raising his arm to throw a punch. “You promised!”

  “Hold yourself,” Aloysius said, showing the man something cupped inside his hand. Even from my close vantage point, I couldn’t see, and he soon made a fist, cutting off the view.

  The healer dropped to his knees, sobbing and pleading and tugging at Aloysius’s trouser leg. All decorum was gone. This was a man plunged into the hopelessness of complete despair.

  Beezley joined in the begging and my skin crawled to see him prostrate himself in front of Aloysius. “I want to be human again. Give me that and I’ll give you anything you want.”

  I blinked back tears and turned away, not wanting to be a witness to Beezley’s debasement. But he pulled me into the situation, shouting out, “Can’t you give him what he wants?”

&nb
sp; “I don’t know what he wants,” I yelled back, my hands tightening into fists. “And I’m not giving him anything,” I added under my breath.

  Aloysius stood there, completely passive despite everything going on around him. His eyes locked with mine and he gave a smile, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as though he was wiping up drool.

  “Why did you capture us?” I shouted, a part of me hoping the surrounding people would hear and turn on him. But the crowd was his to command, not mine. If they understood me, they ignored what I was saying.

  “My master wanted to meet you,” Aloysius said, holding his hands up. “It’s nothing to do with me. I’m simply an underling following orders.”

  “You’re not an underling. You’re the devil.”

  I stood in front of him and reached down to tug Beezley to his feet. The animus healer sat back on his heels. Although he wiped the tears from his face, the misery stayed fixed in place.

  “A guard will escort you back to your cell so you can get ready for dinner.”

  “It’s barely breakfast time.” I tilted my head to my side. “Unless you’re an extremely early eater?”

  Aloysius gave me a slow scan from my toes up to the top of my head. “I think you underestimate how much time you’ll need to make yourself look decent. Be ready by five o’clock and a guard will escort you to the site.”

  “Wait!” I called out as he turned away. “Can I get this taken off?” I plucked at the neck chain. “It’s dreadfully itchy.”

  He stared at me with a stony expression. It was answer enough.

  “Who are we meeting?” I tried, desperate for him to stay long enough that Beezley or I could come up with some plan for escape. “Who is your master?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Aloysius turned on his heel and marched away.

  Chapter Ten

  When the guard deposited us back in the cell, I saw somebody had been busy. A bathtub filled with water now sat in the middle of the room, with a variety of shampoos, soaps, and lotions on display next to it. A large mirror now hung from the wall with a tray full of hair products on a chair nearby.