The Marocchino Sparrow, Mystic Brews #9 ebook

I boarded the coach back into town with Sammi and Gigi. There was an empty row near the back, with two seats on either side of the aisle. Gigi waved for me to sit next to Sammi and took the seat across the aisle. Punkin took the window seat next to her, his little fedora still cocked on his head. He put both paws up and stared out the window, watching the bird watchers amble slowly towards the coach.

My new Canadian friend stared out the window on the other side of me while we waited on the others to board. They straggled in by ones and twos.

“You staring out at anything special?” I asked her.

“No, just trying to think of where the marocchino sparrow might have got to.” She looked back at me and forced a little smile. “I so want to find it. To prove to Gramps that I can keep his legacy going.”

“Why did you come out here? If the gem was lost at sea, it wouldn’t be in Misty Valley, would it?”

Her eyes got a distant look, and she sucked in a breath. 

“Twenty dozen and four

The queen of yore

The sky ablaze red and orange

A reign ends.”

I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. “Interesting poem, and not the first time I’ve heard it this week. Does it mean something?”

“Gramps found it in two different sources when he was researching the marocchino sparrow. Two lines in each book. He was smart enough to realise they are from the same work.”

I glanced over at Gigi. She was leaning forward, into the aisle, to listen. When I caught her eye, she just shrugged.

“What does it mean?” I held both hands palm up. “Two dozen what?”

“We think it means years. Twenty dozen is two hundred forty, right?” Math wasn’t my strongest ability, but I could do that much.

Sammi nodded. “Two hundred forty-four is what the first verse references for the queen of yore.”

“Is it the fae queen?” I asked, thinking of my aunt.

Sammi shook her head. “No, another queen. Her Grace, the queen of all fae, lives for a thousand years or more, and we have no record of anything connected to her lasting only 244 years.”

“So, a different queen?” I asked, right as Lady Greenstreet and Thurston Floyd entered the bus. The only rows with seats together were the ones in front of or right behind us.

“Lady Ebrel,” Thurston said with a nod, then waved Greenstreet past him to get the window seat. “And Miss… ah…?”

“Cupertino,” Sammi said but didn’t offer her hand.

“Marvellous day out,” Greenstreet said, setting a knee on her seat and turning towards us. “Did your familiar recover from his ordeal?”

Punkin made a choking sound. “There is no recovery from dealing with that pompous Pomeranian. That pooch has an ego as large as a Zeppelin and is full of as much gas.”

I glared at Punkin. Sammi and Gigi both giggled. “Don’t encourage him.” I shook my head but chuckled, too. 

“So glad he is clean again,” Greenstreet said and settled into her seat. “I approve of his little hat. Kitties in costume are very fun.”

“Kitties?” Punkin said, looking back over his shoulder at the pair of birders. I interrupted his retort by pointing a warning finger at him. He rolled his eyes and muttered, “Dames! Bah. Kitties. Humph!” 

“Any luck finding the sparrow?” I asked Sammi, but with an eye toward the other two. Perhaps they’d be interested in the brooch?

She shrugged, but Thurston turned and leaned on a knee to face us. “The marocchino sparrow? Lost at sea, my dear. Unfortunately, without that gem, the phoenix queen cannot die. She’s ready to go, and there is no gemstone to see to her rebirth.”

“Oh, so there is more to the gem than meets the eye.” I smiled up at Thurston, trying to play innocent and see if he’d share more. After hearing Mads Brambles mention that Thurston had exchanged words with Archie in the gully, I found his knowledge interesting.

“Of course, my dear. Ask your sergeant major about it. He stole a mission from me to help the phoenix queen a few decades ago. The poor dear. She needs that brooch to pass on and not leave the feathered fae leaderless.”

“The phoenix queen. Of course!” Sammi snapped her fingers, biting her lower lip. Evidently, that was something she hadn’t considered. She went back to staring out the window. 

“You should ask that Reece fellow about where he bumbled the gem to. Was it he that dropped it overboard in that storm?”

I didn’t want Thurston to play his silly games about Rhodri with me, not when the lieutenant colonel wasn’t here to defend himself. So I changed the subject.

“Is that what you were talking with Archie about in the gully?” I kept my innocent smile going, but Thurston’s eyes hardened. “The marocchino sparrow, and how to find it?”

Thurston’s eyes narrowed. “Oh. You do have your mother’s abilities. I had forgotten.” He chuckled, hiding his concern. “What did dear old Archibald Harmon have to say about me?”

“I’m afraid my conversations with the deceased are a matter of police business. You’ll need to ask the inspector for an update.”

Thurston stared at me for a few seconds. The corner of his mouth twitched twice. “Oh, very well, then. No need to get you in Dutch with the good inspector. Mums the word that you spilled the beans.”

I kept my face still. No reason to let him know it wasn’t Archie’s spirit that had told me they exchanged words in the gully.

“Still, I can assure you that Mr Harmon was fully alive when I left him.” Thurston shook his head. “Pity that he died. Such a focussed fellow. He was convinced that the old brooch was back on land. Said he’d made it his mission to set it free.”

I tilted my head in question. “It’s not free?” 

“Well, I would assume he meant to recover it from whomever possesses it. But he’s so intent on recovering it, I’m not sure what he’d do with it. The recovery fee Her Grace is offering for it shows that the brooch is prized by the crown.”

“So, you believe,” I said, watching Thurston for a reaction, “that Archie wants the reward money?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Thurston and Greenstreet both laughed. “One could buy a barony with the amount currently offered.”

“So, most of the birders here are looking for the sparrow?”

Thurston and Greenstreet laughed again. She stood, leaning on the back of the seat to look at me. “My dear, every fae who’s ever heard of that brooch is looking for it. The reward alone is more than enticing.”

“Why are you here, then?” I waved to the valley outside the windows, right as our bus driver shut the door to the coach. 

 Greenstreet chuckled and turned back to us. “Why, Lady Edeirnion’s invitation. It suggested that rare birds might be glimpsed in the valley. Your local rental business is booming. Evidently, a few of your residents took holiday. They’re charging enough for cottage rentals. Almost as much as third-floor walk-up back in New York City.”

We rode back in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Besides, with that snooty Thurston right in front of us, none of us felt like sharing anything he might overhear. Sammi spent her time staring out the window. Punkin ran across our laps, looking out both sides of the coach. His little fedora kept sliding back off his head with the bounces.

“I thought your hold-in-place spell was going to hold.” I pushed the hat back into place. “You should have kept the elastic band.”

“The pesky hat is a bit too large for me. If I move my ears, it shifts.”

“Here.” Gigi reached out a hand, palm up. “Let me see it.”

I passed her the kitty costume hat. Her hand glowed with magic, and the hat shrank slightly. She passed it back. Punkin wiggled his ears once I parked it back on his fuzzy head.

“Ohh. Much better! For a dame, you’ve got good fingers, and better magic.”

I poked him. “We’re tiring of being called dames, Mr Spayed. I might just have to make an appointment at the vet for you.”

“You’ve got a heart as cold as a glass of ice.” He looked back over his shoulder at me, then jumped over to Gigi and settled into the seat next to her. “Speaking of ice, you could use some gin. You’re nicer when you’ve been drinking.”

“Dinner sounds better, silly cat.” I poked Sammi with my elbow. “If you want to skip a session of birding, I know a pub with some great shepherd’s pie. Fish-n-chips too. Good British food if you’ve only eaten at the tourist spots.”

“Oh, that sounds scrummy!” Gigi said, leaning forward to see past me and look at Sammi. After a couple of seconds, Sammi turned from the window and nodded. 

The coach dropped the birders off at the Singing Willow Inn. Next, he’d drive to where the rental cottages were. We got off at the first stop, as did over half of the coach’s passengers. Thurston and Greenstreet remained on the coach. Each must have a cottage rental.

I agreed to meet my friends at this spot an hour later, after they had a chance to freshen up. I headed back to Mystic Brews to check in on the end-of-day crew and receipts.

Gigi stood waiting on me outside the inn when I walked up, Punkin trotting next to me. Sammi came out of the inn a moment later to join us.

Sammi smiled and rubbed her belly. “Lady Edeirnion’s invitation said there would be finger foods at the reception tonight, and boxed fare for those who needed to eat at the evening birdwatching session. But real pub food sounds better.”

“How did you get invited here?” I asked Sammi as we walked. The pavement here was wide enough for three abreast. “You said you’re just starting to look for the sparrow thingie.”

“Weeeell… Gramps made a few calls. Said he knew a chap from his old days of treasure hunting. A day later, I had an invitation.”

“Any idea who?” I had a sneaking suspicion about that chap, but I kept it to myself.

She shrugged. “Gramps said if anyone could get me an invitation, it was his old associate.”

As we rounded the corner from the side street, I paused and looked behind me. For some reason, I had that twitchy feeling on the back of my neck. There were a few bird watchers following along, but none seemed suspicious enough to twitch my I’m being followed senses.

“Yo! Punkin Spayed!” I whispered. Punkin looked back from where he was trotting ahead. “Got a detective thing for you to do.”

“You lose your wand? Your special spoons for cupping coffee go missing?” He trotted back and walked next to me.

“I got that feeling again. The one where I suspect someone is following us.”

“Ah! You want me to put a tail on your tail. I’m the right cat… er pwca… for the job. I’ll catch up.”

“Don’t be seen, silly cat.”

“I’m a pwca!” he called and ducked into the shadows of an alley. We had about three streets to go before we got to Barti Ddu Pub. I gave my friends a bit of a slow walking tour of the town, pointing out several establishments, including the Artistic Emporium, where some of Io’s recent pieces hung for an upcoming auction. A quick glance at the window reflection showed me a man behind us ducking into a doorway quicker than Punkin trying to hide coffee beans. 

“These are by Io.” I set my attention back on the artwork. “He actually had stern words for Elain and told her not to bid on any. Said he wanted to see what his pieces brought in without her bidding them up.”

“They are dating,” Gigi said, looking at the watercolour framed in the window, “yet she purchases his work?”

“She did that for years before they began going out. She’s been crushing on him for a while.”

“How about you?” Sammi asked. “Anyone special in Lady Ebrel’s life?”

“Stop that!” I pointed a finger at her, trying to mimic Aunt Rose’s scolding glare. Sammi looked shocked. Maybe I was finally getting the hang of the Dymestl death glare? I smiled and laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But we’re friends, right? No Lady Ebrel. I’m Ebrel. Just Ebrel. Okay?”

Sammi relaxed, almost back to normal. Just a little stiffness left from my glare. She stared into the art gallery’s windows, but our eyes connected for a second in the window’s reflection. She darted her gaze back in at the art. “Ebrel is a pretty name. I like it.”

“Thanks. Well, I’m getting thirsty,” I said, turning back towards town, sure our shadow would follow. “Let’s go get a pint and some dinner. And we’ll see if the fuzzy detective noticed who is following us.”