The Once and Future Scream Queen: Marlene Ambrosia Mysteries Page 7

  “I have literally no idea what that means.”

  “My, my, my. You’ve got a lot to learn.” Cromwell swooped off the couch and headed for the front door. “I must warn the others now so they’re ready. You should get some rest. The Merlin needs his sleep.”

  “Her sleep.”

  The owl performed what must have been a double-take. “You’re a woman!”

  Marlene wasn’t voluptuous by any stretch … actually she was a little on the thin side and wished she had some more curves. She could eat as much as she wanted and never gained an ounce.

  But she was obviously a woman.

  Waving a hand in front of herself, she said, “Yes. Two X chromosomes. Why is everybody having such a difficult time with this?”

  “The Merlin is never a woman.” The owl seemed very upset by this. “Not ever.”

  “Why can’t the Merlin be a woman?” she said.

  Cromwell was shaking his head. “I had no idea you were female.”

  “You and Merlin—the other Merlin, the original Merlin—really need to reassess your opinions on women. It’s the twenty-first century.”

  “No, you do not understand. It should never be … I will talk to Merlin when he returns.”

  “Why?”

  “The relationship between the Merlin and Arthur needs to be pure.”

  “Excuse me?” Marlene put a hand on her hip. “I don’t even like—”

  “Men and women can never be friends!” Cromwell was very agitated. “I must speak with the Merlin when he returns.”

  “How do you know he’ll be back?” Marlene asked.

  “He always does. I think.”

  “You think or you know?”

  Cromwell walked slowly to the front door and motioned with his wing. “I would let myself out, if I could.”

  Marlene flipped the deadbolt and let him out. The owl turned on the front step to gaze back at her.

  “We will help you,” Cromwell said. “That is what we’re here for. But you must promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You will never kill another living soul.”

  “I’ve never killed anybody before.”

  “Man or animal.”

  “Do bugs count?”

  “Of course they count!” Cromwell flapped its wings, clearly agitated. “The Merlin does not physically harm anyone.”

  “What if I step on an ant?”

  The owl groaned. Literally. “I can tell you’re going to be difficult.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “How do you know all these things?”

  “What things?”

  “My destiny, Merlin, about the Merlin always being a man, Arthur, this guy with names, the darkness, et cetera. How do you know all this?”

  Cromwell puffed his chest out, like he was proud. “This was given to me to know. The knowledge has been passed on for thousands of years. It is my duty and my honor to help you.”

  Marlene couldn’t help but feel grateful. “Well, thanks.”

  “Even though you’re a woman.”

  “Okay, that’s it. Next time I hear you say something bad about women, I am going to punt you.”

  Cromwell looked up at her. “If you want to know what I know, then study the histories. I’m sure it’s all on the internet.”

  “The internet?” How did he know what that was?

  “Good night, Merlin,” Cromwell said. “I must warn the others now.”

  Before she could ask another question, Cromwell flapped his wings and took off. He soared through the night and disappeared in the trees. Marlene hurried back inside and locked the door.

  Thirteen

  Marlene remembered Arthur had called her a few minutes before that man tried to kill her. She grabbed her phone and checked the voicemail.

  “Hey, Marlene. I just wanted to say it was good to see you. I had some ideas and I was hoping I could run them by you. Maybe we could meet up for coffee tomorrow, where your sister works? Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Coffee?

  Her kneejerk reaction was no, absolutely not. But in truth, having lunch with Artie today hadn’t been terrible. As a matter of fact, she’d kind of enjoyed herself. A little. She didn’t often go out because she was so busy running her business, and when she did it was always with her sister. Sitting down with someone else was a nice change of pace …

  But that was all it was. Just a temporary change of pace. Nothing serious or permanent or … impure!

  If she believed the crazy old man-ghost who was calling himself Merlin, then it was her destiny to counsel Artie. He in turn was destined to become a great leader, but only through her counsel.

  Wow. Kind of a big responsibility.

  Marlene didn’t know what she believed at this point. But the bottom line was, a shape-shifting man had tried to kill her, her cell phone had turned into a sword, and she was communing with a burrowing owl.

  She couldn’t ignore all those things.

  It was late, and Marlene didn’t feel like calling Artie back. Or her mother. She wanted to know who the man in the photograph was, but today had just been too much. One more big thing would put her over the edge.

  Marlene hooked the phone to its charger and laid down. For a while she tried sleeping with the light on, but that didn’t work. When she worked up the courage to turn the light out, she laid down and stared at the ceiling. Her mind couldn’t process all the strange things that had happened today. Up until this point in her life, she’d never believed there was such a thing as magic and wizards and witches and sorcerers and talking animals. She worried that Gwen’s death was linked to all of this. If it was, there was absolutely no chance the police would solve the crime.

  Bors didn’t even believe her about seeing the man in black.

  Marlene had meditated twice and still couldn’t fall asleep. It was two-thirty in the morning when she finally gave up and got out of bed. Downstairs, she powered on her laptop and waited for it to pick up the wireless connection. Then she went online.

  She decided to find all the histories that Cromwell had referred to.

  When she searched for Merlin and Arthur, she got millions of hits. Myths and legends had never much interested her, so if they had ever taught the story of King Arthur and his round table and his mentor, Merlin, she must have tuned it out in school. She pored over the details on the Wikipedia page, discovering as she went there were literally hundreds, if not thousands, of interpretations of the King Arthur legend. How she was to divine the truth out of these disparate versions, she had no idea.

  But she read on, learning about the Vulgate and Post-Vulgate cycles, about Thomas Malory’s reimagining, about Howard Pyle, about T.H. White, onto Marion Zimmer Bradley, to David Gemmell, ending up at Bernard Cornwell. So many authors had tried their hand at the story, each putting their own spin on it.

  Somewhere amongst all these texts, the truth was buried.

  Marlene learned all she could about Arthur and Merlin and their adventures together. When the real Merlin came back, she would have questions prepared.

  ***

  She woke up on the couch. The laptop was on her coffee table.

  Groggy, Marlene got up. It had taken her awhile to fall asleep, unable to calm down after last night’s attack. Part of her hoped that it had all been part of some strange dream, but when she looked out her bay window, Cromwell was on the lawn, motioning at her with his wing.

  She slipped on a robe. The early March air was crisp, the bite of winter still strong. Frost dotted her lawn. Cromwell couldn’t stand still.

  “Everything okay?”

  “It’s cold!” the owl said. “I’m not used to it. Burrowing owls prefer warmer climes.”

  “They opened that new pet store on the other side of town. Maybe I could find you a sweater or—”

  “Pet store?”

  “Yes, that’s—”

  “I am not a pet,” Cr
omwell said. His body didn’t move, but his head twisted all the way around so she got the back of it.

  “Neither am I, but I still shop there.”

  Cromwell didn’t turn around.

  Marlene thought the joke was pretty funny. Apparently not.

  “Look, I don’t think of you as a pet. As a matter of fact, I don’t know what to think of you. I’ve never talked to an animal before.”

  Cromwell’s head whipped around. “That worries me. The Merlin is able to communicate with all animals, some plants, and some fungi, a few protists, and a handful of bacteria.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I rarely joke. You will know when I do.”

  Marlene raised an eyebrow. “So why was I never able to communicate with animals until last night?”

  Cromwell’s face grew more severe, which was really saying something. “I don’t know. It is a mystery we must solve. But for now, what is your plan to counsel Arthur?”

  “Plan?”

  Cromwell’s eyes bulged, which was also saying something. “The Merlin always has a plan.”

  “Well, I don’t,” she said. “And that’s how I usually roll. I feel my way through situations.”

  The owl just stared at her, wide-eyed.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve gotten this far in life. I own a house, I’m my own boss, I’m a good daughter, and I help my sister out of every jam she gets in.”

  The owl took a deep breath. “What is your occupation?”

  “I’m a life coach.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I give people advice. I help them sort through their problems. I show them how to live a better life.”

  “Ah, that makes sense. The Merlin is usually wise. People look up to him—”

  “Or her.”

  “—and follow his example.”

  “Her example.”

  “But what do you do for money?” The owl looked past her. “Your home isn’t big, but it seems nice, by human standards.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Marlene couldn’t believe she was explaining her financials to an owl. “I told you, I’m a life coach.”

  The owl looked at her sideways. “Wait. You ask for money when you counsel people?”

  “Uh, yeah, Cromwell. A girl’s gotta pay the rent.”

  The owl was shaking his head. “Oh no. No. No. The Merlin does not get paid for his counsel.”

  “Her counsel.” She folded her arms. “And this Merlin gets paid. Back in the old days, I’m sure the crown took care of their wizards but these days there’s no patron of the wizardry or government subsidies for life coaching.”

  “This is not right.”

  “Listen, Cromwell, I saved up my money and managed to get a small business loan and quit my other job to pursue my dream. I have to make this business work. Which reminds me.”

  “Wait a minute—”

  Marlene ignored the owl. She was in no mood. “I’ve got to meet a client in less than an hour.”

  Cromwell hopped forward. “Marlene, we need to talk about many things.”

  “I’ll see if I can come home for lunch.”

  “See if you can find me some mice.”

  “Mice?” She got a disgusting mental image. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to hurt any animals.”

  “You cannot, that is true,” Cromwell said. “But I must eat if I’m to help you.”

  Marlene found that a little hypocritical. “So I can’t hurt a mouse myself, but I can give one to you to eat?”

  Cromwell flapped his wings. “Of course!”

  Marlene didn’t feel like debating the fluid morality. “Find the mice yourself. Look, you’re a burrowing owl. It’s what you do. You have to play to your strengths and in your spare time work on your weaknesses.”

  “I have to stay near your house to protect you and …” Cromwell looked down for a moment, as if embarrassed. “… all the mice know this, so they’re staying away.”

  “I give you permission to go out for lunch,” Marlene said. “Now look, I have to get going.”

  Fourteen

  Jill Lauer lived in one of the older apartment complexes in Medboro. Though she had been a year ahead in school, Marlene had taken advanced courses so they’d shared a few classes.

  Jill was waiting outside the building for her on one of the benches. “Hey, Marlene!”

  Marlene smiled as she hurried through the parking lot. “Sorry I’m a couple minutes late.”

  “That’s okay.” Jill stood as she approached, and Marlene gave her a hug.

  “You look great!” Marlene said. “You look like you’ve already started losing weight.”

  “Uh, about that.” Jill looked down at herself. “I can’t do the South Beach diet. I became violently ill the other night and actually went to the ER.”

  Marlene was shocked. “What? You should have called me.”

  “I talked to the nutritionist at the hospital and she recommended I go back to a regular diet.”

  “Oh …” Marlene frowned. They were ten seconds into their meeting and already off to a bad start. “Jeez, I’m sorry to hear that. I really thought it would be a good fit.”

  “It’s okay,” Jill said, though her disappointment was obvious. “Now we can cross that one off the list and know to try something else.”

  “Hmmm.” Marlene was at a loss. Normally a minor bump in the road like this would pose no problems and she’d come up with several more ideas immediately.

  But this morning her mind was sluggish. She assumed it was related to her lack of sleep and the craziness of the last twenty-four hours.

  “Well, I’ll have to think about that,” Marlene said. “Maybe we should just focus on portion control for a little while? I hear that’s easier because you’re not denying yourself any foods you normally eat.”

  “Uh, Marlene, remember I told you? That’s what I tried before I started talking to you.”

  “Oh. Right.” Marlene blushed deeply. She’d lost one client yesterday and at this rate, Jill would be ex-client number two. “Look. You’ve got a great figure to be honest. I wish I had your curves.”

  Jill smiled and blushed. In truth, she was in good shape. Sure she had a few pounds to lose, but didn’t everybody?

  “Yeah,” Marlene said, picking up steam. “It’s more important to love your body and be okay in your own skin, right?”

  “Yes,” Jill said. “You’re right.”

  “We’ll figure out something that works. Trust me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now.” Marlene motioned at the bench, and they both sat down. “Tell me how your exercises have gone the last couple of weeks.”

  Jill had always been shy and self-conscious, to the point where social situations paralyzed her with fear. Marlene had never understood why, because Jill was a good, intrepid reporter. When interviewing someone on a difficult story, she never shrunk from the challenge. Put a recorder and pad of paper in front of her, and she was practically fearless. She’d even had the guts to take on the mayor a few times when she came across evidence of corruption in his department.

  But when it came to her personal life, Jill was a totally different person. Very timid and introverted.

  Jill took a deep breath. “So I approached the man we discussed.”

  “Your colleague?” Marlene asked.

  Jill nodded. “Yes, the one you suggested.”

  Marlene remembered. Jill had long pined for this nameless colleague and recently another man in her yoga class had expressed interest. When she’d asked for Marlene’s opinion, she’d told Jill to go after her colleague.

  “Yes.” Jill looked down again. Marlene braced herself for more bad news. “It turns out he’s gay.”

  “Oh.” Marlene smiled. “Well at least now you know.”

  “He also reminded me of the company policy against fraternization … I think he was really put off by it.”

  Marlene’s heart sunk. “Jill, I’m so sorry.”

&
nbsp; Jill looked back up. “I don’t think he’ll tell my editor …”

  This couldn’t be going any worse. The worst part? Marlene had been so sure this was the right decision for Jill. How could she have been so far off the mark, to the point where she’d put her client’s job in jeopardy?

  Something was seriously wrong here.

  Jill was smiling, but her eyes were sad. She’d always been kind to Marlene ever since that day in AP Calculus when Marlene had sat in some bubble gum unknowingly. But now Marlene was starting to wonder if their friendship was built on pity.

  “I need a story,” Jill said. “I haven’t broken a big one in a while.”

  “What about the municipal land deal?”

  “That was over a year ago.”

  Marlene thought about it. “What about Artie Ryan?”

  “What about him?”

  Marlene smiled as finally a decent idea came to mind. “He’s never opened up about his time overseas.”

  “Exactly. Artie’s not the type to brag.”

  Marlene did a double-take. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

  Jill nodded. “You do know he asked the Prom committee to select Ben Strickland as Prom King the second year he won, right?”

  “What? I never heard that.”

  Jill nodded again. “Ben was really sick at that point.”

  “I remember that,” Marlene said. How had she never heard about this? “Well, that was a nice gesture but normally Artie is pretty effusive in his self-praise.”

  Jill gave her a confused look. “I never thought that at all. He was always downplaying himself. I remember when he gave that interview after we won states—he refused to take more credit for the win, even though he hit the game-winning shot. He was all about the team.”

  Were they talking about the same person? In high school, Artie had been the cockiest guy she’d ever seen before—or since. He wanted to get elected to office for God’s sake! That should have told everybody what they needed to know.

  “Besides, I already tried to get that story out of him when he came back,” Jill said. “He didn’t open up at all.”

  “Okay.” Marlene felt a headache coming on. She couldn’t seem to help this woman at all. “Okay. Look. Instead of focusing on the past, get him to open up about the future.”