Autumn Calling Read online

  Where was that darn hellhound when you needed him, Summer thought to herself as she sprinted.

  The man’s hat lifted and flew off his head when he looked over his shoulder to see how close she was. He almost stopped to retrieve it, but thought better of it when he turned only to run right into a waiting Hunter.

  “Whoa, there, fella. Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  A second later, an out-of-breath Summer came up behind them. She bent over, hands on her knees, as she caught her breath for a moment. Through huffing and puffing, she asked, “Who are you, and why have you been cutting through this property the last couple of weeks?”

  The back door of the house opened, and it appeared the commotion had gotten Aunt Myrtle’s attention. When she saw the man, she seemed shocked, and her hand came to her mouth as if to hold a shriek inside. Sully came lumbering alongside her and planted his butt on her slippers as he looked at Aunt Myrtle and then at the portly little man without any reaction at all.

  Hunter looked the stranger over in contemplation. “Do I know you, sir?” he said.

  “Mortimer. How is this possible?” Aunt Myrtle exclaimed, and all eyes turned to the meek little man.

  Sully trotted over to him and gave him a big lick in the face.

  “You stay away from me, you big moose,” the man said to Sully.

  “You’re Uncle Morti?” Summer asked.

  “You are quite the clever one, aren’t you, Morti?” Hunter said, rubbing his chin and the shadow of a beard that always seemed to be the same length.

  “Yes, yes. It’s me. Now quit your gawking and let’s get into the house before anyone else sees me.”

  They all followed him in as Aunt Myrtle made way for them to pass by her. When they settled in the parlor, Morti caught his breath and threw back a glass of whiskey. He sat on the settee and said, “Yes. I’ve found a way around my feline dilemma, though it was for a good reason despite what the BROOM might construe from it. I figured there are only a handful of people in this world who know what I looked like before I became a cat, and that I could use this to spy on our enemies.”

  Aunt Myrtle looked very distraught and refused to take her hand from her mouth the whole time Morti spoke. She too indulged, for the first time that Summer had ever seen, in a glass of whiskey. Summer was surprised how easily she downed the golden-brown liquid, without even a squint of displeasure when it trickled down her throat.

  “Now, Myrtle, I know it’s not the perfect solution, but then again, you haven’t been a cat for near on fifty years either. I must confess it’s strange for me too. I’ve been in a cat’s body longer than I’ve been in my true form. Now let me explain. I’ve done a bit of digging and spying, and as Hunter’s letters had suggested and he informed us when he returned, I have found that the rumors of another dragon are true.

  “Much to our misfortune, the dragon is in the hands of the Macabres. It had been my suspicion when Hunter first noted there might indeed be a chance there was another. It was only recently that I spied it with my own two eyes. It’s in dragon form and it is very much a prisoner. “Due to its nasty nature, I’m assuming it’s been tortured and held there for some time.”

  “This is terrible news,” Hunter said, pacing and combing his hair back loosely through his fingers.

  “It is indeed,” Morti agreed.

  “Where could they be holding something so big?” Aunt Myrtle asked, pouring herself another whiskey, her hand shaking as the lip of the decanter sang against the edge of the crystal lowball.

  “Do you remember where the old part of the Macabre mansion once had a turret tower?”

  “Yes.”

  “Part of that tower went several stories underground. They’ve built it up a bit and put a roof on it, and that is where they are keeping it chained and bound, in the darkness of the pit.”

  “How horrible! Why would they torture it? Wouldn’t they be better off befriending or bribing it to do their bidding?” Summer asked.

  “Dragons are hell-bent against bribing and would never do another’s bidding. The only way to get a dragon to do what you want is to drive it crazy. In a deranged state, it will do whatever it is told just to get some relief from its torture.”

  “Is there anything we can do?” Myrtle said.

  “None so far as I can see,” Morti answered. “You have any thoughts, Hunter?”

  Hunter said nothing as he scowled in thought and shook his head no.

  “Do you think you can get me in to see the dragon?” Hunter asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s very risky.”

  “I’ll be discreet. I just want to see for myself how badly they’ve taken things.”

  “ I don’t think it’s a good idea, but having your take on things could be a benefit. Yes, but not tonight. We need to prepare.”

  “Of course. Whatever you say,” Hunter agreed.

  “Before we get ahead of ourselves, shouldn’t we discuss what the repercussions of your turning back into human form will be and what the BROOM will do when they find out?”

  “If we can avoid their knowing until we solve this Macabre thing once and for all, I think I can push the point that it was for the greater good. The BROOM will be so happy to find the danger has been avoided that they’ll let bygones be bygones.”

  “I wish I had your confidence, Mortimer. I fear they’ll be less than lenient given your past.”

  “ A past started with the Macabres. I know they had a hand in the severity of the punishment. When I can show them just how much the Macabres had to do with the problems in the past, they’ll see the good we’ve done the witch community and the brotherhood.”

  “Okay, but when this blows up in your face, I will be the one to say ‘I told you so,’ as all sisters with idiot brothers have the God given right to do,” Myrtle said, wagging a finger at him.

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Summer asked.

  “Keep your mouth shut, is what you can do,” Morti said in his familiarly irritable manner.

  Summer shrugged her shoulders, and Aunt Myrtle patted them to try to make her feel better.

  * * *

  Two nights later, dressed all in black and looking more like cat burglars than spies, Hunter and Morti headed to the Macabre mansion to scope out the dragon. As Morti had warned, there were magical booby-traps everywhere to ward off intruders. For a magical whiz like Morti and a dragon, they were trivial and somewhat adolescent.

  They made their way through the minefield of traps that surrounded the property, into the back section of the mansion under reconstruction from a fire some say was the doing of Morti himself when he found out Yvonne Macabre had betrayed him and played him for a fool all those years ago.

  Though most of this area had been rebuilt and re-landscaped, the surroundings of the turret tower were barren. Dead shrubs that looked burnt to a crisp were littered here and there around the door-less building taking the place of the skyscraping predecessor. What windows did exist were blacked out.

  A broken window on the opposite side of the building, far from wandering eyes, was the target of the two men scurrying under the mask of darkness that was falling fast. In the massive room below, illuminated by one electric lamp on a tattered table, they could see a large shadowy figure of a red so deep, it almost looked black. It was bound with fetters around its ankles and one of the wings moved constantly as if to get comfortable. In this dimness, it was impossible to tell how bad the injury was. When the light hit its scales they shone iridescences of purple, making the red scales look even darker. Glowing golden eyes darted around the room from the gloom of inky blackness.

  Morti had peered in first, and then invited Hunter for a look without saying a word. Hunter took in every detail he could then whispered to Morti, “Is there any possibility we can get in there to see her up close?”

  “Her?”

  “Yes, most definitely.”

  “Not that I’m aware of. The door is
below ground, only accessible from inside the mansion.”

  “Damn,” Hunter whispered in disappointment, and then peeked in the window once more.

  “We should go, before we’re spied.”

  Hunter nodded and as quietly as they had approached the dragon dungeon, they retreated to the Midnight mansion. The walk back was quiet but once they entered the house, Hunter talked nonstop.

  “She’s pretty messed up. I’m not sure they’re even feeding her.”

  “How do you know it’s a she?” Morti asked.

  “ The shape of wings is slightly different than a male’s, but probably so minutely that only another dragon can tell. But she also seems to be in nesting mode, though I did not see an egg.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You noticed all the burnt shrubs above ground and the barrenness of the area?”

  “Yes. I just figured they weren’t watering, or had some kind of disease troubling them.”

  “No. A female dragon when nesting will send out a blast of flames, encircling her nesting ground.”

  “Why?” Summer asked.

  “It’s a way to disinfect, for lack of a better word. Think of the ground as a massive sponge. It absorbs all kinds of things from ground water and age, so it’s tainted, with herbicides, poisons, carbon monoxide, even magic. You name it, it’s in there. The fire she breathes into the soil renews it like a volcano spewing new rock to the surface. She disinfects the pollutants within the soil of her nest by renewing it with fire as it was once born. That way, while the egg lies incubating with the mother, it doesn’t absorb any bad magic or other lethal things into the baby. Like when babies are born and humans are rushing around boiling water to disinfect to protect their child, so is the female dragon with her own fire.”

  “How amazing,” Summer said.

  “I guess, but mostly it’s a mother’s instinct.”

  “But I didn’t see an egg,” Morti interjected. “Nor have I seen one in my other visits.”

  “That may be what they’re holding hostage over her. Certainly those shackles would not hold her if she wanted to leave. No, she allows them to treat her that way for a completely other reason: her child.”

  “But didn’t you say there are no other dragons? How can she have conceived if not for you?” Aunt Myrtle asked.

  “An egg can be laid at conception, but it can stay dormant for ages until the mother gives off some hormone, taking it out of its quiescent state. This allows for the mother to make sure things are safe before starting the incubation process. Since dragons lay so few eggs in a lifetime, it’s the only way the mother can ensure the safety of the child.”

  “Are the fathers involved in the incubation and rearing?”

  “Oh yes, if they are alive, they are, very much so. With both parents to look after an egg, the child is insured a safe birth from just about anything.”

  “Why would she be nesting when she’s in danger?”

  “She may have started the process before she was captured. Once it’s started, it can’t be stopped until the infant is born.”

  “The Macabres wouldn’t harm the baby, would they?” Aunt Myrtle asked.

  “I wouldn’t put it past them,” Morti said.

  “Morti’s right, but they have more to gain in keeping the infant safe, thankfully. Though likely they’ll sell it or try and train it to do their deeds.”

  “Then why keep the mother if they can train the baby?”

  “They probably will kill the mother when the baby is born, but right now they need a dragon to battle with us. And if the baby isn’t even out of its shell, which I doubt given her still nesting, they have no choice but to use the mother.”

  “How awful,” Summer said, contemplating the dragon mother’s sorrowful plight.

  “Damn nasty Macabres. Makes me so mad,” Aunt Myrtle grumbled.

  “Control yourself, Myrtie,” Morti reprimanded.

  “Last thing I need is a grumpy old ragamuffin cat telling me what to do,” she said, rambling on as she left the room and climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

  “Is there anything we can do?” Summer asked Hunter.

  “I don’t know. As far as I could tell, the mother’s injured her wing and they’ve magically got her stuck in her dragon form. Without knowing where the egg is, there’s no way she’ll leave.”

  “But if we could get our hands on the egg, we could lure her away from the Macabres?”

  “Possibly, but I couldn’t talk with her to see how far gone she is.”

  “We have to figure something out one way or the other.”

  “Definitely. There’s no way I can go up against a crazed dragon, let alone a mother as old as she is, and hope to survive. If we could obtain the egg somehow and pull her over to our side, we’d have a pretty good chance of defeating them once and for all.”

  “Then we do what we can to find that egg?” Summer said.

  “Easier said than done,” Hunter admitted.

  “It always is,” Summer answered with a sigh.

  Chapter 13

  Summer woke to the ringing phone and a very distressed caller. “Summer? It’s Autumn. Vixen has hurt herself. She got out of the house by accident, and I think she must have reinjured her leg. I’m scared to move her. She howling and she looks in pain.”

  “Don’t panic, just sit with her and try to comfort her. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “You’ll come here?”

  “Sure. Why not? Let me grab some things, call into the office to tell them I’ll be late, and I’ll come over.”

  “Thank you so much. I wasn’t sure you’d be willing to do a house call.”

  “It’s not a problem. Give me your address. It might take a little longer. I’m presently without a car, but I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”

  “The address is 2547 Shadowbrook Lane. I’m in the front yard.”

  “Okay. Just relax. Try and make her comfortable, and I’ll be there soon.”

  Like a whirlwind Summer dressed and grabbed her medical bag. She strapped it to the bike and plugged in the address to her phone. Within twenty minutes Summer found herself in front of a most formidable mansion. An eerie feeling came over her as she entered the yard, but she pushed it aside as she saw her patient and Autumn planted on the grass. Autumn waved at her as she rushed over to them.

  “Hey. How’s she doing?” Summer said setting her stuff down and kneeling near the cat.

  “She’s not howling anymore, but she isn’t moving much either.”

  “Hey, little Vixen. You’re certainly using up your nine lives these days,” she said, petting the cat and letting her smell her.

  “Autumn, I need you to hold her still while I check her leg. She’s not going to like it.”

  “Okay,” Autumn said apprehensively.

  “Here we go,” Summer said as she very softly ran her hand down the cat’s leg. “Hmmm,” she said as her hand stopped and the cat howled.

  “Yes. The fracture has re-broken slightly out of alignment. I’ll have to set it, and I need your help.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  “If Vixen will cooperate, I’ll need you to hold her hip. I’m going to tug slightly on her leg, align it, and wrap it up again. We’ll keep her more sedated this time now that we’re not worried about complication of a concussion, and that will keep her off her feet. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you’re not sure I’ll need you to take her into the clinic, where they will sedate her and do what I just explained, but the difference is she’ll have to stay there for a few hours under observation to make sure there is no complication with the anesthesia.”

  “No. I don’t want to do that. She’ll be less stressed if she’s here.”

  “I agree, but I just wanted you to have the option.”

  “Thank you. No, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her home and comfortable.”

  “Good.” Summer guided
Autumn’s hand where she needed her to hold the leg and got the tape ready for a quick wrap.

  “Okay, here we go. Ready?” Summer asked.

  Autumn nodded.

  It was over in a second. Vixen growled and was exceptionally displeased with them both messing with her leg, but the two women had the cat bandaged up and in Autumn’s arms in minutes. Summer gave Vixen a shot of pain medication and told Autumn she would call Dr. Stuart to have him write up a new prescription that could be picked up later.

  “Thank you so much. Vixen and I are so grateful we met you.”

  “It’s not a problem. That’s what I do,” Summer said, stroking the sedated, comfortable feline. They said their goodbyes. Summer went back to her bag on the grass and started cleaning up as Autumn headed for the front door with the cat. A man in a suit Summer surmised was a butler and a woman met her on the porch. When the woman spied Summer, she seemed to recognize her, though Summer had never seen the woman before. Immediately her hands raised and electrical tentacles appeared from her fingers. Summer was dumbfounded by what she saw, and when the magical force the woman threw hit her she was thrown back some fifteen feet.

  Autumn screamed, “What are you doing?” as she handed off the cat to the man and ran towards the place Summer landed. Summer was dazed and confused by what had just happened. Magic. How many darn magical families were there in Paradise? she wondered as she sat up. She could see Autumn running toward her, but the woman, who was now on the grass, was posing to send more blasts Summer’s way as she yelled to Autumn, “Get out of the way, child. She’s the Midnight witch come to do battle with us.”

  “No,” Autumn called back, “she’s not.”

  It was then that it dawned on Summer who these people were. This was not just an ordinary household with an injured cat, these were the dreaded Macabres she’d been warned about and had been learning magic so ferociously to defeat.

  Here she was, without any backup on their home-front, with a house full of witches. A man made his way out of the house, and another woman, and when they saw her they all raised their hands, ready to do battle. Summer stood and sprinted away as fast as she could towards the back of the yard and around the house out of their sight. But she soon found they were all in pursuit of her. When she turned to see them, she realized outrunning the magic would not work.