47. Very Important Society Business
FORTY-SEVEN
VERY IMPORTANT SOCIETY BUSINESS
A true gentleman understands that even the most capable among us must sometimes ask for help. Recognizing the need for assistance is not a sign of weakness, but of wisdom. When requesting help, do so with humility and clarity—state your needs plainly, without embellishment or fuss.
Equally important is how you accept help. A simple, heartfelt “thank you” and sincere acknowledgment of the aid given are essential. Never diminish the support you’ve received, nor should you feel compelled to repay it at once. True grace lies in accepting help as easily as offering it.
–EXCERPT FROM THE METAMORPHIC MAN: A GENTLEMAN SHAPESHIFTER’S GUIDE TO CULTURED CONDUCT
“Just this once, Dad, will you let me have your back?” Rosie landed gracefully and set her father down in the alley outside the passage to Primrose Court. She shifted so seamlessly there was barely a break in the conversation. “You don’t have to do everything yourself.”
Arthur took off running, with Rosie close beside him. They raced through the alley on two legs, but with the preternatural speed of their shifted selves. Arthur held his tongue till they reached the brick lined passage. It was easier to say what he had to say without looking at her.
Rosie ducked behind the billboard first and Arthur followed close behind.
“I want you to promise you won’t come in,” Arthur said. “No matter what happens. Say it back to me. I need you to promise, or I’m going to worry.”
“Please, Dad.” Rosie was tearful again. When she exhaled, a purple plume of fire lit up the tunnel for a brief moment.
It exposed a litany of wishes, complaints, poems, love letters, and secrets carved into the wall.
All those words tumbling all over each other.
But Arthur couldn’t find the right ones.
“You know you aren’t the only one who worries about the people they love,” Rosie entreated. “Let me help.”
She was right, of course. He could start by acknowledging that.
“You’re right,” Arthur said. “But even if we both go in, it might not be enough. We’ve already seen what Cormac is capable of. I need you to call in Amrita, Buffalo, Granny Luna, and the doctor. Call the entire town council if need be. And use your T-watch.”
“So you’re cutting me out again?” Rosie groaned in disbelief. “I’m not a helpless little goat shifter, Dad. I have every reason to go after Cormac, too. Bardo wasn’t an angel, but he was still like family to me.”
“I’m not cutting you out, Rosie. I’m counting on your help. I can’t do this alone, which is why I need you to go. I need you to fly as fast as you can and bring reinforcements.”
A few months ago, it would have broken him to ask his daughter for any kind of help. But now it was a comfort. He knew she was capable, and more than that, he felt relieved to know that when push came to shove she was someone he could rely on.
“Can you do this for me? Please, Rosie. I need you,” he said as they emerged into the square.
“Okay.” Rosie nodded. She took a deep breath and stood tall. “I’ll do as you ask, but I don’t like it. I hate the idea of you going in there alone.”
“Not alone. You’ve got my back.” Arthur smiled and gave his daughter one last hug.
“About time someone came,” Arthur heard a disgruntled voice coming from the street in front of the Mudpuddle.
He was surprised to see three very sleepy squirrels in pajamas sitting on the fenceposts by the gate.
One of them was wearing a sleeping cap. Another was holding a candle in a metal candle holder.
“That Ordinary chap is down in the basement with Lucretia and Maida. They’re making a racket. We can’t sleep, and we really need to get some rest. Tomorrow night is our book club.”
Rosie turned to the three squirrels. “You three should get back to bed. Would you mind if I used your house phone, though?”
“Is it a local call?” the largest squirrel eyed her warily.
“It’s several calls,” Rosie whispered conspiratorially. “Highly confidential stuff. Very important Society business.” She winked at her father. “Can we trust you three to keep a secret? I’d be happy to deliver some extra cookies for your book club meeting tomorrow.”
“Official business? Like in our books? Of course, of course, we won’t tell a soul!” The squirrels were already chattering amongst themselves, nodding quite excitedly and calling out to their friends in the trees.
Rosie was a genius.
“Go.” Rosie waved at Arthur. “Quickly. And be careful. I’ll get help.”
“Give our regards to Minerva!” Arthur heard one of the squirrels call out as he opened the front door.
It was quiet inside the bookshop. Too quiet. The power appeared to be off, but there were candles burning on all the cafe tables and in sconces down the hall. He was surprised to find the malodorous plant from California sitting on the mantel.
Arthur heard Gemini before he saw her. There was a clattering sound as she knocked a tin of runestones from a shelf in her haste to reach him.
“Rosie’s fine,” Arthur spoke softly, reassuring his daughter’s familiar. “She’s okay. I promise.”
At the end of the hallway, the door to the Archives stood open. He could hear voices coming from below. The stench of synthetic magic coming up from the basement was cloying—a thousand times worse than that smelly plant. He had to stifle a gag.
“Go hide, Gemini! Go somewhere safe. Hide and wait for Rosie,” Arthur quietly urged the cat.
Slipping off his shoes, Arthur crept quietly down the hall.
When he reached the end, he slipped silently through the ironclad doorway.
From the top of the stairs, he could see Maida.
She was sitting at a table towards the back wall of the Archives.
She wasn’t alone. Lucretia Lathrop was seated next to her.
At least he thought it was her. It was hard to tell under all those vines.
Will was nowhere to be seen.
Cormac was partially concealed, standing beside a rack full of musical instruments. He seemed to be wrestling with a broken violin.
“Someone needs to put you out of your misery!” he snarled, bashing the fiddle against the cabinet.
“The same could be said for you,” Arthur snorted.
By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, which was no time at all, Arthur was in full stag form.
His shoulders had broadened to twice their human width and his limbs had lengthened.
Thick brown fur covered his sinewy, muscled form.
Above his head, a massive crown of antlers sprawled skywards, like the branches of a mighty tree. Cormac was barely half his height.
The element of surprise was very much in his favor. He pawed at the ground, feeling his natural adrenaline surge. He was more surefooted on his hooves, and much faster as well.
“Arthur, look out, he has a wand!!” Maida cried out, jumping to her feet. Lucretia strained against her binding and grunted.
Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Cormac brandishing the wand, and it gave him pause, especially since he wasn’t pointing the wand at Arthur. It was pointed at Maida.
“Seriously, Maida?” Cormac hissed. “What do you see in this guy? He’s an animal. Literally. Lucretia will back me on this.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
Arthur’s heart skipped a beat.
Cormac took advantage of this hesitation, smiling a canny smile.
“I could change her mind about you, Hart.” Cormac circled around Maida, waving his wand rhythmically and speaking in a sultry tone. “You know I’m a much better choice for you, Maida. Why don’t you just tell Arthur to go away…”
If the smell of Cormac’s magic wasn’t already making him sick, this performance would. He watched as Maida shuddered, and blinked confusedly, trying to shake it off.
“Always trying to play the hero, Hart,” he drawled. “Doesn’t it get tedious trying to save all the creatures?”
Doesn’t it get tedious being such a cliché?
Arthur pawed at the ground.
“Right, I forgot you can’t speak in your present form. Must be challenging for a solicitor. Your type is always full of so many words, words, words. I think I prefer you in this form.”
I think I’d prefer to release you from yours.
He knew Cormac was baiting him, trying to get him to shift to a more vulnerable form. Arthur couldn’t waste a single precious second. Not while the mage had his wand pointed at Maida.
The things Cormac was saying made Arthur’s blood boil.
“You and I are going to be so good together…”
When he looked at Maida, he saw the vines creeping closer.
Arthur lowered his head, preparing to charge. His nostrils flared and he snorted and pawed the ground again. If he was fast enough, Cormac wouldn’t have time to cast.
“Ah, Ah, Ah…” Cormac waved his wand back and forth like a finger, warning Arthur off.
Don’t you touch a single hair on her head.
“No,” she shook her head, “no, no, no…”
“No, what? No, we shouldn’t let him go? I agree.” Cormac laughed and turned back to Arthur. “Your timing is impeccable, Hart.”
“Arthur, no!” Maida pleaded. “Just go. Rosie needs you. You shouldn’t be here.”
He lowered his head again, and Cormac spun to face him, eyes full of mad, unhinged glee.
“You know what, Hart? I forgot that synthetic magic doesn’t work so well on half-breed manifesters like Maida. But it sure works wonders on simple shifters like you.” Cormac held the wand between his palms and started to spin it back and forth rapidly.
“I’m not normally this much of a carnivore,” Cormac said. “But I’ll make an exception for you. I’ve heard consuming a shifter in their altered state can impart the eater with the creature’s powers.” He took a step forward.
Arthur’s ears rang and his vision became blurry. He lunged forward to charge, but it was as if, all of a sudden, his limbs were stuffed with cotton wool. He wasn’t getting anywhere. He couldn’t move.
All around him, the swimming vines began to fall to the ground. That was good, at least. Had Maida managed to make that happen?
He couldn’t see her but he had the sense she was near, moving her hands like she was sketching something. She was swaying back and forth, waving her arms as if she were painting with her whole body.
“Get out of here, Mr. Pants!” Maida shouted. Her voice was muffled, like she was far away. Or perhaps it was all the stuffing that made it sound that way.
It’s happening again, he worried. He was being discarded. The more he struggled to get closer to Maida, the farther away he flew. This was nothing like flying with Rosie. He caromed off walls and tumbled over tables. He hit the floor hard and immediately ricocheted back off the ceiling.
It should have been quite painful, this abuse. But he was surprised to find he was completely numb. He couldn’t feel his limbs at all as he was bounced and rolled back up the stairs and out the door.
It was only his pride and his heart that ached as he lay there alone, desperately wishing he could have done more.