Chapter 6
The Town Meeting
Roam O'Reilly was passing through the front hall when the brass knocker on the front door of FACTS & FIBS started knocking. He looked toward the back of the house, where Phineas was moving, and huffed. He had no choice but to answer the door. When he did, the porch was full.
There was Dr. Clive Wimpleton in his tweed.
Colin Scott from Spellbinders, his shop apron still on, his hair lifted by the wind.
The rest were townsfolk who had walked up the lane, faces Roam knew well.
Every face on the porch was a Cauldron Falls face.
They had come together, because the news of Nadia Costin had spread through the town in the afternoon hour as all news spread through Cauldron Falls, quickly and entirely, and they wanted, every one of them, an answer.
"One at a time, friends. Step inside."
They did not step inside one at a time. They poured. The front hall of FACTS & FIBS, built for a household, not a crowd, was suddenly the wrong size. Edgar Hadwin came out of the parlor with his long stride.
Roam looked back over his shoulder. "Edgar. The spell?"
Edgar shook his head and shrugged. "Don't hold against locals, son. Never has."
Rhoda came after him with the tabby still in her arms. Honey followed.
"Friends." Edgar's drawl was steady. He had not raised his voice. He did not need to. "Friends. Slow down."
Voices came in a chorus from the crowd. "We want to know." "Was it the Telling?" "Edgar, please tell us."
"We don't know, but I doubt it." Edgar's voice did not move. "Sean McLeary has brought us what the constabulary in Sibiu had. Let's all get to Murphy's pub, have a town meetin' there. We can't very well all stuff in this house. There are too many cats."
A small ripple of relief went through the crowd, but it was not satisfaction.
"Okay. We'll see you in a few then."
The crowd had not cleared out before Phineas strolled back down the hallway, speaking too loudly given the circumstances.
"It is, it is a remarkable thing, all this.
" His gesture took in the hall and the parlor and the spilling cats and the cold afternoon air rushing in from the open doorway.
"Remarkable. The magical system is teaching itself to be honest. Centuries of suppressed truth, finally given air.
That is the marvel of it. There is a great deal to be said for letting a thing spill, you know, when a thing has been held. "
Maeve Byrne, who had been on her way to follow the crowd back down to the pub, stopped where she was in front of Phineas. She turned and looked at him the way she had looked at Murphy O'Reilly on the porch of The Boozy Cauldron, only with less patience. "Mind yer mouth, Phineas Grove."
"I beg your pardon," he spat.
"Mind yer mouth. There is a great deal to be said for not letting yer secrets be told, sir. I've ironed witches like ye flat with hedge wards. Don't ye dare test me. I'll have ye on yer back before ye know it."
Oona shuffled by, lifted her nose toward the ceiling. "And if she doesn't, my love, I will."
Colin had stopped on the front hall runner. Clive had stopped at the doorway. Phineas's face twitched before them, his mask of calm slipping. "My dear ladies. I had not intended… I had not, yes. Yes, of course. Forgive me. I shall walk down with you all. To the pub. Quite right."
He shot a crooked smile to Maeve then Oona, and crossed into the parlor where he had set down his hat earlier in the day. He patted Quill's head as he picked the hat up.
The crowd flowed down the hill in clusters. Maeve and Oona went at the front. Edgar and Lazlo walked together in the middle. Rhoda and Honey behind them, with Roam at Honey's shoulder.
Phineas walked with Colin and Clive. He had been quiet most of the way, but said the right things to Clive about the books and the right things to Colin about Spellbinders.
The two men found him much more relaxed and charming on the walk.
About halfway down the hill, near the bend where the wisteria-tangled oaks turned the road, Phineas slowed.
"Colin," Phineas paused for a moment, "a favour if I could ask. You see, I would, or I should very much like to send to a colleague before the meeting. A note. A small dispatch. Has your shop got…"
"The post bench. Of course." Colin slowed with him.
"Top of the shop, behind the desk. Mary, the owl, takes a sealed message as far as Salem from the bracket, and the runner-board posts as far as Prague.
It's open. Go in. Mary will see to you if she's there.
If she's not, leave it on the bracket and she'll know. "
"You are very kind," Phineas sighed.
"Take what time you want, friend. I'll keep a seat for you at Murphy's." Colin patted his shoulder.
Phineas stopped and let Colin and Clive walk on ahead. When the procession reached the square, Phineas stepped off the cobblestones at the front step of Spellbinders Bookstore & Library, and let himself in. The bell over the door rang gently.
The rest of the crowd flowed on into the open door of The Boozy Cauldron.
Murphy O'Reilly was behind the bar with four glasses in motion at once.
Two visiting witches at a table had already opened a bottle.
The Marseille sisters had stopped arguing and were eating bowls of stew.
Clive sat with Colin and Gloria at a table by the fire.
Edgar and Rhoda stood at the bar with Honey and Roam beside them.
Lazlo had taken the small round table tucked in the corner.
Sean McLeary and Uma O'Reilly sat together at the far end of the bar.
Leahnora Loveridge arrived at half past four exactly.
Baval came with her but did not come inside.
The raven settled on the post outside the pub window and watched.
Leahnora crossed to the small platform Murphy used for music nights, and lifted her hand once.
The pub did not entirely quiet. The pub did not entirely need to.
"Friends," Leahnora said. "Before we begin, a small matter of council. Sean McLeary will be staying on in Cauldron Falls. He will be supporting Detective Chief Inspector Roam O'Reilly through this work and beyond."
There was no applause. There did not need to be.
At the far end of the bar, Uma tried not to smile and did not quite manage it.
Sean beamed at her. Behind the bar, Murphy O'Reilly stopped polishing the glass in his hand.
He looked at his daughter and the lad beside her and chuckled. Then he went back to polishing.
"Now. To the matter at hand."
Leahnora made it brief. The town knew what she knew, she said, and so she would not waste their time on what the town already knew.
Nadia Costin had been killed in Sibiu. There was no known connection between her death and what was happening within the familiar community.
There was no known connection between her death and anyone in this room.
The town would carry on with all the care it was capable of, and the Hadwins would carry on with the work they were doing, and Cauldron Falls would work together.
A voice came from the back. "And if it is one of us causing all this?"
The voice belonged to the tall thin warlock with the yellow scarf.
"What did ye say?" That came from the bearded warlock across the room.
"I said, if it is one of us."
The bearded warlock stood. "And what would ye mean by that, sir."
"I would mean that one of us brought this. That one of us is the reason the cats are spillin'. Else why would all the cats come here. If one of us can do that, maybe one of us killed that poor girl?"
The pub erupted around them. "How dare you." "Mind yer mouth." "Don't ye dare."
Magic was beginning to crackle around the two warlocks, small showy magic, the kind a warlock throws when he wants to be seen throwing it. The pub was beginning to scrape its chairs back. Murphy slammed his hand on the bar.
"That'll do, the both of ye."
He did not move from behind the bar. He did not need to. Roam and Sean were already crossing the pub at speed. Sean reached the bearded warlock.
"Sir. Sit down." He was polite.
"Mr. McLeary, that yellow-scarfed scoundrel."
"Sit. Down." Sean barked. The bearded warlock sat down.
Roam crossed to the yellow-scarfed warlock and laid a hand on his shoulder that was firm and kind at once. "You, too."
The yellow-scarfed warlock did not sit down at first. He stood for one breath longer than he should have, and Roam's low growl put him in his seat.
Murphy, behind the bar, did not relax. He filled three glasses he had not been asked to fill and pushed them across the wood to people who had not asked for them.
Oona Pierce had been on a stool at the bar. She rose. "I shall need," she announced to the room at large, "the loo. If anyone wishes to start an actual fight in my absence, do please save me a corner of it."
A small ripple of laughter went around the pub. Some of the air came back into the room. Oona made her way through the crowd toward the back of the pub and disappeared down the narrow corridor.
Maeve Byrne set her glass down hard on the bar. "Murph."
"Aye, lass." He didn't look at her, he had his eyes on the troublemakers.
"I need a moment of air." She wiped her mouth on her sleeve.
"Aye." Murphy pointed with his thumb. "Out the back. Stop's a pot of marigolds against the brick. Don't kick it. My ma planted it in 1894."
Maeve slid off the stool and went down the same corridor Oona had gone down. In the corner away from the commotion Lazlo set down his pint and rose, nodded politely to the table nearest him, and crossed toward the same corridor and the gentlemen's washroom.