Chapter 2
Chapter Two
CASSIAN
The days passed in agony while I waited for an investigator from the Ladiall force to arrive.
We received no business, not even locals stopping in for a drink.
The weirdest part about it was that everyone had a perfectly valid reason not to be here, just like Mr. Mimster.
Whether it was no money, or family in the area, or even magic that kept their wagons safe from winter cold, people did not need shelter.
Finally, on a blustery winter evening, we received a visitor.
The door blew open, and he stepped through, accompanied by a swirl of snowflakes. He wore a hooded cloak and a scarf, hiding everything but his gray eyes and dark eyebrows.
I nearly tripped sliding off my stool behind the counter to greet him at the door. “Hello! Welcome to Fibbersnap Inn! How can we help you?”
Jasmine emerged from the office, Griffin huffed to the pub doorway, and Olive stepped into the lobby to watch.
The visitor lowered his hood and pulled down his scarf as his eyes met each of theirs, and then he looked at me.
His dark brown hair fell around his face in waves, and his expression was very inquisitive.
His bronze skin glowed in the warm firelight.
“My name is Sterling Thorndrop. I’m an investigator from Ladiall, looking for Cassian Fibbersnap. Is that you?”
Griffin groaned and stomped back into the pub, but Jasmine and Olive remained in the lobby. Sterling’s eyes caught Griffin before he vanished from sight, but he quickly fixed them on me again.
I extended my hand with a grin. “Nice to meet you, Sterling. Thank you so much for being here. Yes, I am Cassian Fibbersnap.”
Sterling shook my hand with a firm, gloved grip. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Fibbersnap.”
“Please, call me Cassian. Let’s talk in the office, shall we?” I asked, gesturing toward the door behind the counter.
“Wherever you feel comfortable.”
I led him around the curved counter with my hand placed gently on his upper back while I admired how I had to look up at him. Gods, did they have to send the hottest investigator they had?
Sterling tensed at my touch, so I removed my hand. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Something to eat?” I asked as I stepped into the office with Sterling and Jasmine.
Sterling lowered himself onto the plush sofa across from the oak desk. “That’s not necessary, but thank you.”
“Are you sure? You must be exhausted from the journey. And cold. You look like someone who appreciates a good cup of coffee. Do you like coffee?” I asked.
He lifted one beautiful dark eyebrow. “You sound like someone who appreciates a good cup of coffee,” he said with a smile.
I laughed, probably a little too hard. “Thank you. So what’ll it be?”
“You really don’t have to wait on me, Mr. Fibbersnap. I’m here to help you.”
“Cassian,” I said, already sticking my head out the door. “Olive, would you mind making our guest some coffee, pretty please? And maybe something to eat?”
“Certainly,” Olive said with a nod, and then she disappeared into the kitchen.
I grabbed a folded blanket from the pile of blankets in the basket at the corner of the room and unfolded it, offering it to Sterling. “It’s cold out there,” I said, dropping the thick blanket over him when I remembered how he didn’t appreciate me touching him.
Even that amount of contact seemed to frighten him, so I backed away, leaning against the desk. Jasmine stood to the side, frowning at me. I shrugged. “What?”
“You’re making him uncomfortable,” she said.
“No, no. It’s okay,” Sterling said, waving his hand in the air while he moved his cloak aside to pull a hidden pack off his shoulders. He retrieved a small leather-bound journal from it. “You must be eager to have company after being cursed out of business.”
“It’s been awful,” Jasmine said. “We’ve had no new customers for almost an entire week!”
“I’m sorry,” Sterling said, looking up from scribbling in his journal to smile at Jasmine. “I don’t think I caught your name.”
“My name’s Jasmine Bloomday. I’m Cassian’s cousin.”
“We’re co-owners,” I explained.
“Co-owners? I thought your grandfather left the inn to you, Cassian,” Sterling said, making another note.
“He did, but I thought Jasmine and I, with our combined family knowledge of innkeeping, would know enough to make this work. She’s basically the second owner. You don’t need to write this down, Mr., uh… Turndip,” I said, squinting at his furious note-taking.
Sterling’s note-taking paused, and then he said, “Thorndrop.” He continued writing. “And all information is valuable, Mr. Fiddlestop.”
“Fibbersnap. Cassian,” I corrected him.
He looked up from his journal to smile at me, and then he went back to writing. I supposed I deserved it, considering I butchered his name first.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask if you’d please keep the purpose of this investigation quiet. Griffin and Olive already know you’re here, but they don’t know why. I don’t want them to think I suspect they placed the curse. I don’t know who it could be, though. Maybe someone from Ladiall?”
“Why would someone from Ladiall want to curse your inn?” Sterling asked without looking up.
“Uh…” Jasmine and I had debated for a long time about whether to call an investigator, because a lot of Force officers had prejudices about magic.
With some persuading from Jasmine, we agreed we could keep our family magic a secret from the investigator if it meant catching the person responsible.
He didn’t need to know I was a witch’s apprentice in Ladiall.
“You’re right. It’s probably not. Anyway, please don’t let on that you’re investigating who did it.
I want them to think you’re here to help break the curse. ”
Sterling nodded as he finished his notes. “Sure. If it’s all right, I have a few questions for you, Mr. Fogglestick.”
“F—Cassian—” I stammered. “Are you messing with me?”
“Who are Griffin and Olive?” Sterling asked.
I explained their positions at the inn just as Olive knocked on the door, and I realized how rude I was to forget introductions.
I opened the door and took the platter from her, which she had prepared with a brewing jar of coffee, an empty ceramic mug, a cream pitcher, sugar cubes, and a plate with sausage, potatoes, and greens.
“Sterling, this is Olive. Olive, Sterling,” I said as I set the tray on the desk.
Sterling and Olive shared their greetings while I acquired a portable folding table.
“Thank you, Olive. You and Griffin can head home for the evening. It doesn’t look like we’ll have much more luck tonight, and it’s already pretty cold out,” I told her while I set up the folding table and dinner in front of Sterling.
“Thank you, Cassian. Good luck with your investigation. I sincerely hope to arrive to good news tomorrow,” she said, nodding goodbye to Sterling as she left the room.
I rubbed the back of my neck and frowned at Sterling. His eyebrows lifted, and he made another note. “Are you from Ladiall, Cassian?” he asked, setting his journal down to pour himself a cup of coffee.
“No, sir.”
“Call me Sterling,” he said.
“Sure thing, Mr. Thimbledip.”
He smirked over his sip of coffee, and I felt very proud of myself for drawing a reaction out of him. When he set the drink down, he asked, “Why did you say someone from Ladiall would have cursed you? Have you been there?”
“Maybe once or twice. It’s the nearest big city to here. I’m just grasping for answers. I don’t know,” I said.
He eyed me carefully until I felt like he could read my mind, and then he glanced at Jasmine. “What about you?”
“Of course I’ve been to Ladiall. Who hasn’t?” she asked.
“Do you have any enemies there?”
“Maybe a few ex-boyfriends, but none of them know I’m here,” she answered.
“All right.” Sterling took another sip of coffee. “Let’s move on. How do you know the inn is cursed?” he asked.
“What else could it be?” I asked. “We’ve had no new patrons in almost an entire week.
The last few customers we had couldn’t even afford various check-out fees they accumulated during their stay.
Looking back, it must have happened the night before Mr. Mimster checked out, because he had no money to pay us the next morning, and that was the same day people stopped showing up. ”
“Interesting. Maybe we should take a look at your logs and investigate the last patrons who came through.”
“I don’t know about that, Thorpdunk. It doesn’t seem good business practice to accuse our guests of crimes,” I answered.
“Well, Fibblesnick, no business is not good business practice either,” Sterling answered. “You never told me how you know it’s a curse.”
He was relentless with the questions. “Allow me to show you. Try to pay me for something, like the coffee. I’m happy to serve it on the house, but just try to compensate me,” I said.
“Certainly,” Sterling said, digging through his bag.
He pawed through his items, eventually digging deeper before searching all the exterior pockets and then returning to the main compartment.
After a minute or two, he started pulling stuff out, and then he dumped it all out on the sofa.
“So sorry,” he muttered, sorting through his various piles of clothes, toiletries, and parcels of what appeared to be food.
After touching every single item at least three times, he looked up with wide eyes. “I don’t have my money pouch.”
“This is what’s been happening,” I said. “No business, but everyone has a valid reason not to spend money here, just like you. It’s been a lot of small coincidences like this, but too many to be normal. It can only be magic.”
“This is so embarrassing,” he said, rubbing his face as he eyed his belongings. “I fully intended to pay you for my stay here.”
“I fully believe you, but don’t worry about it. I never intended to charge,” I said.
His head turned to me again. “Please, I insist.”
“You cannot insist. The inn is cursed,” I said.
Sterling stood up. “No, I must go back—”