Jake's Justice, Book Three of Wizards (13 page)

Fluffy whistled in surprise. I understood why, to hop a whole planet was almost beyond belief. And they had many planets.

“And this is the reason you have come to visit, to tell us that you don’t plan to attack me?” That just seemed unreasonable.

“We know many things that you do not. For instance, that knife in your pocket is of an ancient primitive magic. To use it you would have to make a sacrifice of yourself. I doubt you are willing to risk death simply for information. Put it somewhere safe and forget about it.”

“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

“I will see you at the Conference, should either of you survive long enough to attend.”

Farolan didn’t hop as I know it, nor did he glim. He faded away as if someone had cut the power to whatever it was that was lighting him.

“He was so beautiful,” Jenny whispered.

“Why did he really come to visit us?”

[Not for the purpose he claimed. His people are as devious as they are talented.]

“Retnor,” Jenny scolded. “Nothing that beautiful could be evil.”

[They are beyond our notions of good and evil, but evil comes of their actions as often as good.]

“Should we be worried?”

[We should be afraid. They have noticed us and that is never a good thing.]

“Are you going to follow his advice with the knife?”

The knife felt good in my pocket. I didn’t want to put it anywhere. It was going to stay with me.

“No, I can’t see myself sacrificing myself for information I won’t be able to use.”

“I’m putting on some more tea then.”

That’s my Jenny. She gets visited by a god. Says he’s pretty, and then goes to brew another pot of tea.

13.
      
 
Grand Hotel

Jenny had been looking at her watch every five minutes for the last half hour so I looked at mine as it’s difficult to judge the time of day in a cave. It was half past seven and I was getting hungry. It had been a long day. Normally I would have raided the palace kitchens in Salice and brought back a meal for all of us, but with their food crisis over there that didn’t seem right. She was also looking at her mobile and I checked the magic that gave us a signal in the cave was still in place. I gave it a boost as it had stared to fade.

Jenny’s phone rang and she snatched at it.

“Yes, he’s here with me… See you in half an hour then… Love you too.”

She put down the phone and smiled at me in a way that instantly got my nerves on edge. I was about to be asked to do something I wouldn’t like. I could tell.

“That was my parents. They’ve invited us out to dinner and we have to meet them in half an hour.”

I mouthed an ‘Oh God.’ This was worse than I thought.

“Jake, you haven’t really spoken to them since you came out of the coma.”

“The wedding, the reception,” I spluttered, though I knew what she meant.

“Always when there were a dozen people or more in the room with you. They want to see you alone, with just the four of us.”

That was what was worrying me.
‘Sorry I got your daughter up the duff, Mr. Owens. Hope you didn’t mind me marrying your daughter at the same time as I married another woman.’
Those were just some of the things I’d never got around to saying, and Jenny wondered why I’d been avoiding them?

“Have you got a decent suit? What about that grey one you wore last year?”

“Back at Mam’s.”

Jenny waved her hands at me. “Go and put it on and then come right back.”

I turned.

“Don’t you dare run away, Jake. I expect you here in ten minutes.”

Damn, that was Plan A and B down the tubes. Accepting defeat I hopped to my room and got changed. Jenny was right. I needed to make peace with her parents. Was hoping I could leave it for another ten years wrong of me?

Unfortunately, absolutely nobody attacked me at home so I had to hop back to the cave wearing said suit, a clean shirt and an itchy tie. Jenny was wearing a stunning dress when I arrived.

“Retnor helped me make a quick hop home,” she said before I could ask.

She came over and straightened up my shirt and tie. Why do your women do that? It’s so embarrassing. It was like being six years old again.

[You should have worn a bow tie. Bow ties are cool.]

‘Dragons are weird.’
“If I ever want your sartorial advice, I’ll ask.”

[I shall await your call. You cannot remain the worst dressed wizard in the multiverse for much longer. People are beginning to talk.]

“Leave him alone, Retnor. Ess and I will sort him out for you.”

‘Ess’ eh? Those two must be getting really close if Jenny dared to shorten Esmeralda’s name. I was too frightened to do it and I was married to the woman. Maybe I’d try it during a moment of intense passion and catch her unaware? Might be fun, if a little risky.

“Where are we meeting your parents?”

“The Grand Hotel.”

‘Good grief.’
“That hotel and me have a bit of a history together, you do remember. Urda? Ida? People getting hurt?”

Jenny licked her handkerchief and wiped away something on my face. “Then you won’t have any trouble hopping there. Their restaurant is the best in town.”

A vision of terrified kitchen staff being forced to boil water to pour over themselves sprang to mind. Urda had wiped their memories, but some trace might remain. Still, I hadn’t been wearing a suit, so maybe no one would recognize me.

The Concierge took a deep indrawn breath when he looked up to see me smiling at him. Before he could say anything, Jenny spoke.

“We are meeting my parents in the restaurant. They have a table for four booked. It will be in the book as Owens.”

He continued to stare at me for a few seconds and then glanced down at a book on his counter. “Yes, they have already arrived. If you would like to go through? Mr. Morrissey will remember the way.”

So much for not being recognized. He’d probably tell the kitchen staff before we reached the table and I’d end up eating an old army boot disguised as a steak.

Jenny took my arm and I led her through the lobby over to the restaurant. A waiter met us at the door and took us to the table. He didn’t look terrified so word probably hadn’t reached him yet.

“Jenny love,” Mrs. Owens said; her face lighting up as she saw her daughter. “Jake, it’s so good to see you in a suit. You look so distinguished.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. She had asked me several times to call her Mary, but I found it difficult, it would be like calling my Mam, Mandy.

“Jake,” Mr. Owens said, offering his hand. I took it and he gave me a firm handshake. No need to check my fingers afterwards. I was a little surprised.

I took a menu and hid behind it. It was a waste of time looking at it. Steak and chips was the only thing I ever ordered from places like these. The menu was in French, but they had the English translation in curly brackets. It looked like I’d have to have some kind of fancy gravy with the steak. With luck there wouldn’t be much and I could scrape it off when no one was looking.

“I saw Brian yesterday. He said to thank you and to say sorry about the television program.” I lowered the menu to give a puzzled look at Mr. Owens.

“Brian Mathews, Bronwyn is making good progress and seems happy at both school and home.”

“What television program, Dad?”

Mr. Owens smiled at his daughter. “You look radiant, dear. Were there any problems at the hospital?”

“Everything was fine. The baby’s fine too. What television program, Daddy?”

“There was a documentary on Bronwyn’s disappearance. One of those investigative journalism type things. Brian and Gwyneth kept saying Jake had helped them find Bronwyn, and of course Bronwyn couldn’t remember Jake, but the program makers cut things so it looked as though Jake might be guilty of something. They were careful not to say what he might be guilty of though, especially after they showed Inspector Thomas’ statement expressing his confidence in Jake’s innocence.”

“It’s what you get for saving the world,” I said dismissively, but I was hurt. No one welcomes being accused of kidnapping a child. Lord only knows what they would have liked to accuse me of.

“That’s horrible. How dare they accuse Jake of anything?” Jenny said in outrage.

“Well at least they didn’t accuse him of bigamy,” Mrs. Owens said. It was meant to be a joke, but there was a squeak to her voice that suggested she still wasn’t happy with the idea. Luckily, just then the starters turned up. I had ordered a prawn cocktail, as I always do. Being a fancy restaurant it was served in a tall glass that made it impossible to get at the lettuce without spraying prawns and sauce everywhere.

Naturally, the Owens ordered wine. I am a wine connoisseur, in that I know the stuff that isn’t red or white is called rosé. However, Mr. Owen suggested I taste the wine to see if it was okay and the waiter poured a thimbleful into my glass. Sniffing it, (as people always do in films) I deduced it smelled like wine, tasting it resulted in a similar conclusion.

The waiter and I got our signals crossed and I didn’t realize he was about to fill it when I momentarily put it down. A little wine got spilled and I stood up to avoid it running onto my trousers. Everyone on the other tables turned to look at me. That’s me in a nutshell; you can’t take me anywhere.

As we waited for the main course the level of background noise from the other tables rose considerably. Everybody seemed to be talking in stage whispers.

Somebody said “It is him. I’m sure,” in a whisper so loud the concierge probably heard it out in the lobby. I became aware of a presence behind me. A large belligerent man stood there when I turned in my chair to look.

“You’re Jake Morrissey, aren’t you?”

“Jake, ignore him,” Jenny suggested, which wasn’t the right thing to say as it confirmed my identity.

“Think you can fiddle with little girls and get away with it?”

That had me on my feet ready to hit him. The waiter turned up and seemed to be having trouble deciding which of us to restrain.

“He was on the six o’clock news. He’s going to be a millionaire, lucky bastard,” someone shouted. This seemed to further infuriate my accuser.

“See what you make of this,” he shouted and swung his fist at me.

“Stop,” I commanded and everybody froze, including my attacker who stopped his fist in mid-flight. The only people still able to move freely were those at my table.

I looked at my attacker and could see the fear in his eyes. “You have not seen Jake Morrissey tonight. This fight did not happen. Go back to your seat and continue your meal.

The man let his arm drop and walked back to his table. I looked at the other people in the restaurant. When I spoke it was using more command magic. “None of you have seen Jake Morrissey here tonight. You will forget this incident. Go back to your meals and do not think of this again.”

As I sat down the waiter shook himself and looked around in surprise. Then he returned to the kitchen. The restaurant returned to normal as people began speaking again at normal levels.

“I never realized properly before,” Mr. Owens said softly. “You have so much power.”

“I feel unclean. I hate going into people’s heads. It’s never right.”

Jenny squeezed my hand reassuringly. Moments later the serving staff put our meals down in front of us. The steak was ruined by the sauce which tasted suspiciously of boiled wine.

“How can we be sure, Jake?” Mr. Owens asked as we sat drinking coffees.

I waited for him to finish his sentence before I attempted an answer. I was pretty sure what he was going to ask, as I had asked it of myself on many occasions.

“How can we be sure our daughter isn’t under your mind control, that you haven’t ordered her to love you?”

“Daddy!”

“It’s a fair question,” I told Jenny. “He has the right to ask.”