It was a slow day and I sat in my office with my feet on my desk, my duster hanging lazily over the back of my chair and Mouse, a full grown two hundred pound Tibetan temple dog, my own personal wooly mammoth, was laying on a rug in the corner of the office taking up most of the space. The late afternoon sun gave his brown and gray fur golden highlights. I had gone through my mail, made a pot of coffee and had started writing a new brochure entitled, "Wizards, why they're grumpy." After the second paragraph I came down with a terrible case of writers block and decided to take a break. With my daily mail a new publication arrived in a manila envelope with no return address but it had a Chicago post mark so it was from someone close by. Someone in the paranet obviously felt I needed to have this invaluable source of information so I decided to take a look. PentacleHouse was splayed across the top front cover and beneath the heading there was a young woman dressed in a skimpy medieval costume in a typical seductive pose.
I flipped through the magazine and there were articles on various traditions of magic, philosophy of magic and essays on magic theory and the origins of magic with pictorials interspersed that went from PG to R for the article entitled, "How to be properly skyclad", Skyclad being the term used by those in mystical circles for performing magic in the nude. Don't get all puritanical on me. There is a proper time and place for this sort of thing, mostly in ritual magic. Fortunately for me the magic I toss around doesn't care what you're wearing. Most of the articles were anywhere from a little off to way out in left field.
I started to wonder if this was a joke or if there was actually something that I needed to pay attention to. Then I noticed a dog-eared page in the back. See I'm a detective, we notice these things. I flipped the magazine to the marked page. It was in the middle of the forums section. One entries title had been highlighted. "Spooky in Chicago" read the title in bold italic letters. The entry was attributed to someone named Ghost Charmer. "Dear PentacleHouse, I never thought this would happen to me!" the article started out. Sheesh, I wasn't sure if I wanted keep reading or toss it into the trash, but morbid curiosity kept me reading, and it's not like I had a lot on my plate today anyway so I had some time to kill. The article went on to explain, in excruciating detail, how this practitioner, of obviously limited knowledge and power, had managed to contact a spirit and was given very specific information about his present situation with his boss at work. The spirit was of a person who had died in the last few years the writer explained, the spirit gave him information he could use to leverage his boss and get promoted into another department. The whole thing sounded a little fishy to me. The type of spirit that would hang around and gather information and interact with the mortal world is usually a spirit of air, intellect or another element and they are usually fairly powerful and hard to contact. If you do contact them and aren't properly prepared with the right offerings etc., they usually leave you in little scraps for the mice to eat. As for human spirits as this one claimed to be, once someone dies, they go where their supposed to, don't ask me where but they don't simply hang around giving out information like vending machines. Ghosts are little more than a mental impression of the person who left it. It may look like them, act like them but in reality they are no longer around and the apparition is simply a reflection of them powered by psychic energy the person left in their environment. Also ghosts or spooks usually have a specific reason for being there, unfinished business, revenge, regrets they felt at the time of their death, and they usually have a specific purpose. Ghosts don't normally run around eavesdropping on peoples bosses. So if this article wasn't completely made up, then the person didn't know what they were dealing with.
The story went on to say that they had been given a ritual that would help them to expand their mind and powers, ya right, but that to do it they needed to go to a sacred place in the underground of Chicago. Hells bells, something was trying to lure this person into undertown. Undertown is a place that is dark, dank, musty, and scary. It is home to many cruel and dangerous things that are best left underground and away from the light and that's it good qualities. I had been to undertown on a few occasions and had run into maniacs and demons that tried to kill me, monsters that tried to eat me and even an entrance to a fairy court of winter and that didn't begin to count the black court vampires, ghouls and unspeakable things that lurk safely in the darkness under one of the nation's largest cities.
This was starting to make a lot more sense. The article did list briefly where they had been instructed to go, which is good since there are a few ways to get into undertown and those are the few I know about. I'm sure that the monsters that slink up into the city at night to feed know a lot more ways in and out then I do. Fortunate for me I knew the one this person was going to use. Now I just had to figure out who it was and when they were going if they hadn't already marched blithely to their demise and talk sense to them.
"Mouse, we've got work to do!" I said as I pulled my legs off my desk letting my chair fall forward with a dull thud. Mouse looked at me with a doggy smile and raised his head knowing that this would give him a chance to stretch his long hairy legs and maybe even find a nice patch of grass.
The blue beetle's engine coughed and sputtered to a stop a few seconds after I had taken the key out of the ignition. It wasn't new or shiny or even particularly pretty to look at but hey, it's paid for and it's mine. That and we'd been through a lot together ramming walking tree monsters and running away from trouble. That and wizards tend to have problems with technology, anything build after the forties tended to break down with prolonged exposure to a wizards presence. Something about the mystical power we carry about us can short out a cell phone or computer in anywhere from five minuets to half an hour if we aren't actively using our powers or upset. I once fried a computer from six feet away simply by walking past it in a rather bad mood. I looked back fondly at my little car as I walked across the alley.
I walked into McNally's pub and stopped to take note of who was hanging around. McNally's pub was a local hang out for the mystical community, there were thirteen tables and thirteen carved wooden columns arranged seemingly at random about the room, this was to help breakup and disperse the residual energies that the patrons may inadvertently bring into the place. There were some of the locals of the mystical community from around town I recognized, a group of young women, part of a coven, in one of the back booths talking quietly, two older men in a far corner playing chess at a table and a couple who were obviously more interested in each other eyes than anything going on around them held hands across their table as they spoke in hushed tones, laughing and giggling in short secretive bursts.
Mac was behind the bar wearing his black slacks, white shirt and white apron all immaculately clean. He was pouring a drink for someone I didn't recognize. She was tall with legs that were as long as a country road and her skirt was just tight enough to let me know that she was in good shape. Her white starched blouse tucked neatly in the waistline was accented by a silver belt. Her hair fell past her shoulders in a cascade of dark silken curls. Her short sleeves showed toned muscle and tanned skin. Mac nodded at me as Mouse found a quiet spot near the door and lay down.
I walked over to the bar and tapped my fingers on the smooth polished wood flashing Mac a quick smile. True to form he already had one of his dark ales in his hands and was removing the top as he sat it in front of me.
"Are you Harry Dresden?" came the smooth silky voice from beside me.
"That depends, who's asking?" I replied as I gave her a sideway glance. Her brows were arced and her lips were full, dark red and rising at the edges into a coy smile. Her brown eyes gave me the once over as she turned to face me. She must have been in her early thirties, smile lines just visible at the corners of her round brown eyes.
"Camilla Dawson, I'm looking for a little help off the books and I hear that you are the person to talk to for this type of matter." She purred. She leaned against the bar that made her blouse do interesting things as she leaned towards me. "So are you the man I'm looking for or shall I go elsewhere?" she asked.
"Lady, I don't know what you've heard about me but off the books discrete makes it sound like you're looking for a thug and not an investigator. I don't do that sort of work." I scowled slightly as I glanced at her large brown eyes and high cheek bones. She wasn't unearthly beautiful but as mortals go she was a strong eight. I kept my face firm and straight as my subconscious started filling my head with possible scenarios that included whipped cream, chocolate sauce and her. I firmly pushed these images into the back of my mind trying to keep it on the business at hand.
"Nothing like that I assure you Mr. Dresden, can talk someplace a little more private?" she asked giving me another smile that implied that it would be worth my while. I directed her to an empty table in a back corner and followed her over with my ale in hand. Her hips had a casual swing to them that was too smooth and easy to be natural. When we got to the table I pulled out her chair, she sat crossing her legs making her skirt slip up to show her knee. I circled the table and took a seat directly across from her but also with my back to the wall, facing the front door in case a jealous husband or boyfriend should come charging in. It may seem paranoid but in my line of work, it happens a lot more than you'd think.
"So Ms. Dawson, what brings you out tonight?" I asked in a matter of fact tone.
"I'm looking for something and I'm told that you are the best around at locating things that are lost or hidden. I'm willing to pay you handsomely." She said in a low tone, pulling out a very full envelope with the corners of a few hundred dollar bills sticking out one end. She laid the envelope on the table and folded her hands on top of it looking for my reaction. I'm really not that into money, but my car does need some repairs and I could actually pay Michael, a contractor and ex-fist of God, to come over with his crew and put in a real security door, properly reinforced and still pay my rent for the rest of the year with the kind of money she had under her hands.
I glanced at her hands and back at her face with a cool, unimpressed tilt of my head. "So what is it exactly you are looking for?" I asked.
"It's an heirloom that was last owned by my grandmother. After her death it went missing and wasn't listed as part of her estate. It's a necklace that has been in our family for many generations and it's important to me. It's nothing of great value, a silver chain with a medallion attached but like I said it was my grandmothers and she was supposed to pass it down to my mother and her to me. Unfortunately my mother and grandmother had a falling out when I was young and they never had much contact after that. I used to spend summers with my grandmother and it would mean a lot to me to have it back." Her words stumbled towards the end, her eyes becoming glassy, her face twisting in sorrow.
"Do you have a picture of the necklace?" I asked and she produced another envelope from her purse, this one was manila and was sealed with tape. She broke the seal and pulled out an aged black and white photo showing an elderly woman smiling and hugging a child from behind. Around her neck glittered thin silver chain with a silver medallion, roughly the size of a silver dollar. Even with many years gone by I could tell the little girl in the picture was the woman sitting across from me. She pulled out a second photo, this one much newer and it was an enhanced image of the medallion in the picture. The medallion was in the form of a Celtic knot with a circle in the middle and in the circle was a pentagram.
"Do you know where your family came by this necklace?" I asked calmly, my interest piqued. Something in the back of my head was rustling, a distant memory, I'd seen this before but couldn't remember where.
"Nobody knows, it's been in the family as long as anyone can remember." She said.
"You grandmother was its last rightful owner, is that correct?" I asked.
"Yes, and I have something that may help you to find it," she said reaching back into her purse and pulling out an old hair brush. It was made of silver and was of fine craftsmanship, "I thought you might ask for something of hers." She said as she put the brush on the table. "Will you help me Mr. Dresden?" she asked in a little girl lost sort of voice. The damsel in distress, at least this time she's not being chased by a demon or threatened by a warlock. I did the math in my head, low risk, find the medallion, get a big pay day and help out a beautiful woman whose not wearing any rings. On second look, she wasn't wearing any jewelry at all.
"So why all the secrecy?" I asked thumbing through the pictures.
"I'm not the only heir, I have a cousin but I doubt she cares about this necklace as my grandmother had a sizeable estate when she passed. I just don't want this to turn into a family fight and tarnish our memories of my grandmother." She said giving me a flat smile.
"I'll do what I can. Is there a number I can reach you at if I find it or have any further questions?" I asked.
"You can reach me here," she said as she slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand. I felt a cool breeze wash over my hand and a slight tingling sensation that went up to my elbow as she touched my hand. She was a practitioner of no small gift. Her eyes widened and she quickly pulled her hand away from mine. She looked genuinely surprised. Once she regained her composure she continued, "If I'm not in, leave me a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can."
"This isn't your cell phone?" I asked probing.
"No, I choose not to carry one of those, they are annoying and I can never seem to have one last more than a few days before they die." She said with genuine annoyance.
"They don't like me either." I replied smugly. "I'm working another case but I don't expect this to take me too long, so I should get back to you either way in a day or so."
"That will be fine Mr. Dresden. I'm in town through next week tying up some loose ends of her estate." She suddenly looked very tired. She gave me an honest but weak smile and got up to leave.
"Ms. Dawson," I asked as she was turning to go, "just out of curiosity, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm an artist." She replied stopping to give me a quizzical look. "Why?"
"No reason," I said, "just wondering."
She walked over to the bar and thanked Mac and gave Mouse a wide berth on her way out the door. Mouse sniffed and gave her wary look as he raised his head and watched her climb the few stairs out of Mac's place.
"Interesting," I said to myself as I pulled the envelopes over to my side of the table. The first envelope, on quick inspection was in fact full of hundreds and the second one had a few other pictures besides the ones she had shown me along with some papers. I put the pictures back and stuffed the envelopes and hair brush into my dusters pockets and finished my ale. The ale was one of Mac's new summer ales and it was very smooth as it rolled down my throat making my taste buds sing with delight.
I wandered over to the group of young women in the corner booth. Their coven was part of the paranet and they just might know who the Ghost Charmer is or might be able to point me in the direction of someone who was working this sort of magic. They noticed me coming as I approached their table and the idle chatter stopped as they turned their attention to me.
"Hello ladies, may I join you?" I asked as I pulled up a chair.
"Of course, Warden Dresden, what can we do for you?" asked an especially perky blonde sitting at the very back of the booth, probably the leader of the group. She looked serious and maybe a little nervous. I sat down at the other end of the table in the walk way between the tables and scooted close enough to rest my hands palms down on the table. I let the slightly uncomfortable silence linger as I looked around the group. If they were nervous I wanted to know why.
"Ladies, tell me, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary lately?" I asked mysteriously. A vague open ended question is a great way to get peoples subconscious to start spilling secrets.
"Um, like what?" asked the redhead closest to me, her eyes not meeting mine as she examined the condiments on the table, then lifting her head with a curious smile looking me in the face. I did get the slight tingling feeling as I extended my senses. One or two of these girls had some slight talent but nothing major. However in concert they could have the juice to power some rudimentary spells if they all worked together. What I didn't feel was the cold, prickly feeling of a warlock. Whatever these girls were up to may not be totally on the up and up but I didn't feel any malevolence in the group.
"I'm looking for a practitioner in the area who calls themselves Ghost Charmer. I'm afraid they may be in danger and need to find them." I said and the reply was a short burst of giggles.
"You read PentacleHose, Mr. Dresden?" asked the brunette to my left with a hint of a giggle in her voice, her cheeks turning scarlet. The girls giving each other quick gleeful glances then turned sheepishly to me.
"Someone sent me a copy of this month's issue and marked that specific entry. I must say, I wouldn't read it for the articles." I said feeling a little defensive, and then caught the taste of foot in my mouth as another round of giggles went around the table. "It looks like whatever this person has gotten mixed up in isn't being straight with them and is leading them into trouble. So ask again, do you know who this Ghost Charmer person is or not?" I finished letting some irritation slip into my voice at the end.
They exchanged glances, then nervous glances. Finally the redhead to my right, a slender and petite thing all of maybe 100 pounds soaking wet with a slight but shapely figure spoke first. "We know who sent the article warden. I have to ask, are they in trouble with the council? You being a Warden and all, I'm just worried." She said, her brows knitting and making her forehead wrinkle a little, but somehow in a very endearing way.
"Not that I'm aware of, from what I've read they haven't broken any laws, but they also don't understand what they are mixed up with. This may very well be a life or death situation girls and you do have a good reason to be worried. I can help them if you help me find them." I said giving them each a level look in turn.
"We can't tell him! We took a sacred oath not to divulge the identities of those in our circle." The perky blond in the back of the booth said, her jaw set firmly. The other girls looked from one to another and turned to me and their leader at the end of the table. This was great, a vow of secrecy, it isn't uncommon but it's also not usually binding. However, if they had taken the oath as part of a ritual, they may have had enough power in the circle to actually give this some teeth.
"What did you swear by when you took the oath?" I asked seriously.
"We swore by our powers and our beauty." The brunette on my left said, her eyes downcast as if embarrassed, her hair falling to cover the sides of her face. She was tall maybe 5' 8" and well proportioned, wore a black halter top and white shorts that showed enough leg to give the young men ideas and make them love the summer months.
"Okay then," I said, "Don't give me any names." I said offering a way to keep their vow and get me to this person at the same time. "Call her and have her come down here to meet us. That way we are all safe and nobody compromises their vows." I finished with an encouraging look.
"Bringing her here would work, wouldn't it Shelly?" asked the redhead looking at the blond in the back.
"I suppose that would work." Replied the blond, with a look of satisfaction on her face. "Debbie, you have her number, why don't you give her a call and tell her we need to talk to her and Mr. Dresden is buying us a round." She finished with a sly smile directed my way. I was stuck, I was asking for their help and if it only cost me a round of drinks to save a life, then I suppose that's what I'd have to do.
"Fine, just go call her now please." I told the redhead as she got up to go make the call. I waved at Mac and motioned a circle at the table indicating they were ready for a new round of drinks.