The Howling

Chapter Twenty

        Villette stood in the large room and worked to keep the butterflies in her stomach under control. She was nervous for a number of reasons. First and foremost, she hated being away from Emil. It had been nearly a week since the events within the Howling but it still sent spasms of panic shooting through her when she lost sight of him.  

        The second was due to Piers' absence. She had become accustomed to him over the last week, always in the background, watching her intently. She hadn't told Emil. Not yet. She knew she would have to eventually but for now, until she felt satisfied that he was his old self, she wouldn't let him know that a demon was living with them. Piers didn't press the subject and shifted his form into that of a black cat whenever her brother was around. He hardly shifted out of it even when it was just the two of them. She had become accustomed to the cat's eyes watching her, and now that they weren't weighing on her back, she felt almost naked. 

        The third was the room. It reminded her of the Howling. It was circular in shape, the ceiling disappearing into the shadows above her so that she didn't know how large it truly was. The walls were made of a dark stone, giving her the impression that they were underground. A broad shelf had been carved into the wall nearly ten feet above her head, with five seats spaced equally in the shelf. As far as she could tell, there was no doorway that led from the shelf to those seats and no ladder or steps to reach them. It confused her for a moment until she realized that she wasn't dealing with humans anymore. 

        And that brought her to her fourth concern. The Magistrates had summoned her here. Reinard had been checking up on her every day since the Howling. He sent paper cranes to her, folded in origami style, with writing on them. When the cranes landed in her hands, it unfolded itself into a sheet of paper and she read his letter. Then the words would disappear and she could write her own. Or speak them, if she preferred, and the paper would magically display her words. When she was finished, it would refold itself and then fly away. 

        But yesterday, Reinard had appeared in person. Along with Magistrate Amsel. Her grandfather. 

        While the bakery had all but been destroyed during Eisen's attack, the apartment upstairs had been hardly damaged. The only real damage had been the hole through the floor, which Al had made, and the missing sofa. Contractors had already been called in to fix the bakery, draining Uncle John's saving's account. 

        Amsel looked around the charred bakery. Villette thought it best to meet him downstairs, as far from Emil as possible. She didn't trust any magician, aside from Reinard, farther than she could throw them. Her grandfather was no exception. 

        He sniffed disgustedly as he scanned the room. His cane in one hand, he poked at the blackened remains of what might have been a chair. Or a table. The form had been twisted by the heat and only a little remained. As he stabbed at it, it disintegrated into ash. 

        "Eisen did this. Since you didn't ask." 

        Reinard shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He had remained silent as they entered the bakery, eyes cast downward. He had mumbled a greeting to Villette but that had been it. Now he stood halfway between her and her grandfather. 

        You shouldn't blame the detective. He has reason enough to fear the Magistrate. 

        She sensed rather than saw Piers descend the steps behind her. He was in his cat form again, his soft paws pattering lightly as he moved. But he didn't enter the bakery. He stood at one of the lowest steps, concealed from the room by the wall that hid the stairs.