Tremor

Chapter 9

09

"You, of course," Lingonberry said mildly to Gooseberry, "know who that young lady over there is, don't you, Mal?"

When Gooseberry looked at Emily and remained silent, regarding her with a manner akin to indifference, something, something thin and delicate that had been tethering Emily to the realm of the mild-mannered and not-furious, snapped.

"I am Eleanor Moreau," Emily growled, "and you bound me into a bloody marriage contract that could kill me! Why on earth did you do that?"

The man shrugged, "It was the only favourable outcome I could see. It was the only way for Rapunzel to get her happy ending, so to speak."

At the cryptic words, Emily's anger deflated, to be replaced by confusion, which then gave way to dread. Oh, no, Emily grimaced. Please don't tell me he's insane.

Lingonberry and Penny, on the other hand, suddenly seemed very interested in what Gooseberry had to say.

"What do you mean by that, Father?" Penny asked, an eyebrow raised. "Surely there was another way?"

"No, no," Gooseberry shook his head and pulled out a pocket watch, showing the face of it to Penny and Lingonberry, "not this time. There wasn't anything else but that left to do."

Lingonberry took the watch, and looked at it, not entirely convinced. "Are you certain you've checked all the possibilities?"

"Of course I have!" Gooseberry snatched the watch back in indignation. "What do you take me for? A fortune-teller with a crystal ball? No, sir, I definitely have checked all the possibilities, and this was the best course of action to take."

Lingonberry folded his arms and remarked dryly, "That's what you said the last time you did something like this."

"How very callous of you, Father!" Gooseberry sniffed injuriously. "I'll have you know there were many differences in the situation last time. Besides, it turned out well enough, didn't it? We are still alive."

"That was hardly the point I was trying to prove," Emily wasn't entirely sure if she saw Lingonberry roll his eyes as he spoke, "but do continue. I'd like to hear your explanation for this… this breach of protocol. You rarely meddle with such matters."

"Well, I do admit I usually consider such matters to be beneath me," Gooseberry examined his nails casually, "but I don't wish for it to happen a second time. Gets awfully boring after the first century of watching micro-organisms grow."

"I suppose it would, for you," this time, Lingonberry really did roll his eyes. "Regardless, your explanation?"

"I have seen all the possibilities, all the outcomes," Gooseberry paused, his form flickering briefly before solidifying. "Binding Eleanor Moreau to Keith Gathony was the only way to stop it from happening."

By now, it was clear to Emily that the Magician's family had stopped paying attention to herself and Felix, and so, she tugged lightly at Felix's sleeve, and when the man looked down at her, she mouthed, Stop what from happening?

No idea, was Felix's reply.

"You cannot be serious," Lingonberry, for once in Emily's memory, was flabbergasted. "You mean to say that this all depends on Miss Moreau and Mr Gathony?"

"Yes!" Gooseberry threw his hands up in a 'finally-you-understand!' gesture. "Have you any idea how long it took to find a world where Moreau was born in Oakston's upper-class and not completely a twit? Or a world where Undergrowth survived? An awful lot of a long time, that I'll tell you. All other aspects were identical - I'm telling you, Eleanor Moreau and Keith Gathony are the main variables."

It was then that Penny glanced at Emily and Felix, and registered their equally confused expressions. "I hate to cut this conversation short, but might I remind you that there are some of us present who should not be hearing this?"

"And why shouldn't we?" Felix folded his arms, apparently having decided that he and Emily had been ignored long enough.

"In this case, I would, ah…" Gooseberry paused, as if trying to remember something, "...what was it you said to her, Mr Wallis? Oh, yes, 'Don't dwell on it'. I don't believe your minds are capable of understanding, and I do not mean that as an insult. You are barely aware of my existence, and that is only with the help of a tether." Gooseberry nodded at the note clutched in Emily's hand.

Emily scowled, but Gooseberry continued on blithely, "In any case, there is nothing I can do for you, young lady."

Lingonberry looked between Gooseberry and Emily, and directed his question at Gooseberry. "Are you certain you cannot at least temporarily reverse your contract?"

"Well, that depends," Gooseberry replied evasively.

Emily narrowed her eyes. "On what?"

"On who you think you are."

Before Emily could ask Gooseberry exactly what he meant by that, the man continued on, "Are you Emily Greene or Eleanor Moreau?"

"I..." Emily paused, then shook her head, elements of Eleanor bleeding into her voice. "That hardly matters."

Gooseberry studied her carefully, then sighed, almost sadly. "You are both, and that will certainly be a problem."

Emily could feel her anger building up, and she fought the urge to step forward and shake some answers out of the trench-coated man.

"Oh, Mr Wallis," Gooseberry added suddenly, "did you put sugar in your coffee this morning?"

"...yes," Felix said after a second's pause, a hint of suspicion in his voice. "Something wrong with that?"

"Oh, absolutely nothing," Gooseberry continued on, unconcerned. "Your reflexes should be sharp enough for you to stop Miss Greene before she chooses to attack me."

"I would hardly do such a thing," Emily defended herself, even though she'd entertained the notion just seconds before. Then, out of curiosity, she asked, "and why is it a problem if I am both Emily Greene and Eleanor Moreau?"

"As long as you consider yourself Eleanor Moreau, you are bound by the contract," Gooseberry replied imperiously, and adjusted his cuffs. "And because it demonstrates a very poor indecisive character on your part. Hardly a surprise, considering your upbringing-"

Gooseberry had been right about Felix's coffee, and Emily was stopped short of attacking the man, held back only by a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Miss Greene," Felix began, but stopped when the tension left Emily's shoulders. He suppressed a flinch at the oddly defeated tone of voice that left the girl.

"What are you trying to prove, Mr Gooseberry?"

"That there are forces at work that you can't comprehend," Gooseberry continued mercilessly, and coldly. "Good day to you all. Until next time."

With that, Gooseberry's form flickered and disappeared.

"What a zounderkite," Felix muttered under his breath. Out loud, he cautiously asked, "Miss Greene?"

Emily shrugged off his hand, then turned to Lingonberry and Penny. "What was he talking about?"

Lingonberry and Penny exchanged a glance, and it was the elderly Magician who cleared his throat before replying. "I'd really rather not say, but I suppose we can tell you the basics. Malcolm, if you haven't realised by now, is a fortune teller of sorts."

"Of sorts?" Emily repeated.

Lingonberry sought for a better way of putting it. "He sees alternate timelines, if you will."

Felix looked sceptical, and Emily even more so. "Through a pocket watch?"

"Oh!" Lingonberry seemed pleasantly surprised. "Is that what you see when you look at him? What does he look like to you?"

Like a complete vagrant, Emily wanted to say, but Felix seemed to sense that whatever she was going to say was likely to be rude and gave her a stern look. So, instead, she replied, "Like a man wearing a trench-coat."

"Indeed?" Lingonberry cupped his chin in thought. "That's very interesting..."

"Lingon," Felix reminded the Magician sharply to return to his explanation.

"Oh, do excuse me. As I was saying," Lingonberry picked up where he had stopped, "Malcolm can see the possible futures. Problem is, he doesn't know which one will become reality. It isn't really his place to meddle, but he has in this case."

"But what is he trying to prevent from happening?" Emily struck at the heart of the matter. "And what do I have to do with it?"

This time, Lingonberry and Penny exchanged similarly dismayed looks. "That, I'm afraid, is something that neither Penny nor I are sure of. Even if we knew, we could hardly divulge your destiny so blatantly."

Wonderful, Emily closed her eyes and sighed. Destiny. Marriage contract. I think I might rather face the latter at this point.

…

Emily slept fitfully for the next two nights.

On the third night, she'd all but given up on getting a full night's rest, and wondered if she could sneak downstairs to the kitchen without waking Felix up and get herself a cup of tea. She spent another minute staring up at the ceiling and completely wide awake before she decided that she wasn't going to spend the rest of the night in bed.

With a shawl wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the chilly spring night, Emily crept downstairs, and to her surprise, found the door to the kitchen ajar. She prodded it, and it creaked loudly in protest. Emily winced, hoping she hadn't woken up Felix, but she needn't have worried. Upon closer inspection of the room, Emily noted that it was empty, and Felix's jacket was missing from where it usually hung next to the door.

"He must be working late," Emily murmured, squinting at the grandfather clock. Two in the morning. "Or very early."

The fact that Felix was working wasn't odd. The fact that Emily had seen Felix at dinner just some hours earlier and for him to be missing now, on the other hand, was odd.

Then again, Felix wasn't exactly the kind of person to share his working hours with all who asked - or didn't ask, in Emily's case. Shrugging off Felix's disappearance, Emily returned upstairs with a cup of tea. She did not think on Felix's absence until a few hours later, when she returned downstairs to find muddy footprints leading from the front door into the kitchen.

The kitchen door was shut tightly, and locked.

Emily, as surprised as she was at this turn of events, was even more surprised to find that Lingonberry had beaten her downstairs and was busy studying the footprints.

"Good morning, Miss Greene," Lingonberry greeted without looking up. "How are you on this fine morning?"

Truth be told, Emily felt horrible. Staying up for half the night had done little for her state of mind.

"Ah," Lingonberry finally looked up at Emily, "still troubled by the whole destiny issue?"

"A little."

"Don't be, Miss Greene," Lingonberry looked back down at the footprints, scraping a sample of mud into a test tube and stowing it away into his dressing gown pocket. "Everything will turn out alright."

"If you say so, Mr Lingonberry," Emily was not entirely reassured, but found her attention diverted by the footprints. "May I ask what you are doing?"

"Collecting soil samples," the Magician answered simply, but quickly added, "but I think you meant to ask who the footprints belong to, am I correct?"

"Yes."

Lingonberry got up slowly, with an audible cracking of his knees. "These are Felix's footprints."

"I surmised as such," Emily nodded. Since Penny was back at university and Lingonberry in all likelihood had not made the footprints, it stood to reason that Felix was the culprit. "Any reason why he trekked mud all over the foyer?"

"Not a clue at this moment."

At that point, the door to the kitchen finally clicked and unlocked before opening to reveal a bleary-eyed Felix Wallis, who looked as if he'd slept in his clothes. "What are you two doing up so early?"

"Collecting soil samples," Lingonberry answered. "Felix, did you go outside last night?"

Felix looked as if he was on the verge of replying in the negative before he froze at the sight of the muddy footprints and thought better of it. "Yes," Felix frowned, puzzled. "I must have."

"I see," Lingonberry didn't look upset at the muddy footprints at all. "In that case, Miss Greene, would you assist me in cleaning the foyer while Felix prepares breakfast?"

Felix looked as though he wanted to protest, but shut his mouth and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Emily and Lingonberry behind in the muddy foyer.

"Do get the newspaper, won't you, Miss Greene?" Lingonberry gestured at the front door at the same time he pulled out a piece of chalk and scribbled something on the tiled floor. With a bright flash, all the mud began creeping across the floor towards the sigil, and piled itself into a neat molehill.

"Er… of course," Emily tore her gaze away from the moving mud, didn't question the Magician's request, and opened the front door to retrieve the newspaper.

"Anything interesting?" Lingonberry asked as he held open the kitchen door for Emily, and followed her in afterwards.

Emily read over the newspaper. "Oh! The Galaxy exhibit is opening in Oakston Museum tomorrow." She eyed the picture of a large gemstone taking up most of the front page. "And apparently the main display is the Nebula Stone. I fail to see how this has anything to do with the stars."

"The Nebula Stone?" Lingonberry peered over her shoulder. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"You know of this stone?" Emily asked as she handed the newspaper to Lingonberry.

"Well enough-"

"What's this about the Nebula Stone?" Felix, who looked less bedraggled than he did a few minutes ago, interrupted the two. Emily briefly wondered how the man managed to get dressed so quickly.

Lingonberry sat down at the dining table, and pushed the paper across the table to Felix. "It's on exhibition starting tomorrow."

Felix frowned at the picture, then looked at Lingonberry. "It looks familiar. Is it...?"

"It is," Lingonberry confirmed, helping himself to a slice of toast. "It may be a good idea to let Barker know what they have."

"They've already assigned several constables to guarding it," Felix was still frowning at the picture, "but I suppose it would be helpful to let her know."

As Felix left the kitchen to use the phone in the foyer, Emily turned to Lingonberry. "Is there something unusual about the Nebula Stone?"

"Magical properties," Lingonberry swallowed the mouthful of toast before continuing, "very unpredictable. Could be dangerous if the right - well, I suppose you could say wrong - person gets their hands on it."

Emily did not like the ominous tone in Lingonberry's voice. "Surely you should intervene."

"Oh, I will."

Emily did not like that glint in Lingonberry's eye either.

…

'Intervene' apparently meant that Emily was to follow Felix to wherever he went, two nights after the conversation.

The Nebula Stone, the troublesome little bauble, had been on display for all but one day. Then, it'd gone missing the day after. The night before the day it went missing found Emily on yet another sleepless night. On her way down to the kitchen, she'd very nearly tripped over the Magician, who was sprawled on the first landing and eying the kitchen door like a hawk.

"What on earth-?"

"Ah, good evening, Miss Greene," Lingonberry acted as though he had expected to be found on the landing in the middle of the night. "Or, should I say good morning?"

Emily was too surprised to exchange pleasantries. "What are you doing here?"

Lingonberry, who was on the verge of replying, stopped whatever he was going to say and quickly gestured for Emily to duck down when the front door creaked open. Emily, never one to question the madness in the Magician's methods, ducked down next to Lingonberry, and both had watched as Felix Wallis slipped through the front door.

Then, like a puppet whose strings had been carelessly cut, the man lost what previous gracefulness he had and stumbled towards the kitchen door, fingers fumbling at the door knob. Emily stifled a gasp at the torn tatters of the back of Felix's jacket. Any worry disappeared when she realised the Magician was unconcerned and when she noticed there was a distinct lack of blood on the inspector.

"Is he..." Emily narrowed her eyes at the man as he continued to paw at the door knob, briefly wondering if he'd been in a barroom brawl, "inebriated?"

Lingonberry snorted. "I should hope not. I might say he is hypnotised, though."

Emily's eyebrows rose. "Hypnotised? When would he-"

And then Emily suddenly remembered Theophilus Cyrus the Psychic. Lingonberry took in the realisation on her face, and did not need to state who was probably the responsible culprit for their conundrum.

"You see," Lingonberry nodded sagely as Felix finally made it into his quarters, "normally, Felix is very particular about those who use 'magic' for entertainment. You remember Mr Cyrus, for example. I'm sure Felix would have pointed out how every trick of his worked."

Emily thought back to how Felix had thoroughly annoyed Stirling throughout Cyrus' demonstration. "He did, actually. Did you teach him that?"

"I may have," Lingonberry answered evasively, then continued on. "Anyway, when he didn't elaborate on our elusive Mr Cyrus, I could only infer that Felix was either mystified by the psychic - in which case he would have asked me - or..."

"Or he's under an enchantment," Emily finished, the pieces falling into place. "Is that why he has-"

"Been on these late night excursions?" Lingonberry nodded. "Precisely."

Emily flinched as an alarm clock rang loudly in Felix's quarters, loud enough for the two on the landing to hear. "What was that?"

"Felix's attempts of catching himself in the act," Lingonberry answered as he stood up, dusting off his dressing gown and offering a hand up to Emily. "No doubt he's noticed the state of his muddy shoes and started to suspect something was up."

"So," Emily asked as she got to her feet, "he set a random alarm in the middle of the night to try and wake himself up before he could commit another crime?"

"I suspect so, yes," Lingonberry started down the stairs, with Emily close behind.

Before the two could enter the kitchen, the door swung open, and a bleary-eyed Felix stood behind it. He looked at Lingonberry, then at Emily. Then back at Lingonberry. Finally, he asked dryly, "I was outside again, wasn't I?"

"Yes," Lingonberry answered, unfazed by the dark circles under the younger man's eyes.

Felix closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not good."

"I agree," Lingonberry concurred cheerily. "You're going to need a new jacket, by the way."

"I- what?" Felix stopped, having fully processed Lingonberry's comment and craned his neck in an attempt to look at his back.

Emily's attention was drawn away from this absurd exchange by the ringing of the phone in the foyer. All three stared at the phone, wondering who'd be calling at this time of night. Finally, Felix was the one to pick it up.

"Parkes?" Felix blinked in surprise at the caller. "What is it? ...the Nebula Stone? It's- It's what?!"

...

After that, Felix had been searched thoroughly by Lingonberry before all three searched the Brownstone for the Nebula stone. Of course, they hadn't told Parkes - Lingonberry argued that first of all, there was no proof that Felix had stolen the stone, and second, it would hardly do any good for Felix to spend his time in a cell at Headquarters when Lingonberry had a plan to catch Cyrus in the act.

A very hare-brained plan involving Emily tailing Felix the next time he went on a late-night excursion.

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