I was a werewolf, and during the day a nocturnal beast such as myself needed her beauty sleep. I didn’t get any that day.
An alarm screamed at me to wake up. My eyes shot open and I tried to sit up. My body caught in my sheets and I tumbled, bounced off the platform on which the bed sat, and collapsed in a heap on the hard, cold stone floor. I peeked out of my cloth prison and glared at the ceiling. The alarm continued to blare, unaware of my bleary eyes and sensitive ears. I crawled out of the mess of bed sheets and clapped my hands over my ears.
I strode over to the door and flung it open to take a peek into the hall. A commotion to the left turned my head in that direction, and I saw Emery rush down the hall.
"Where’s the fire?" I asked him.
He paused at my door and pressed his glasses against the bridge of his nose. "There appears to be an intruder in the castle in one of the lower rooms. You may be of assistance in this matter."
"Oh sure, get the werewolf to be a guard dog," I quipped.
Emery didn’t hear my smart-aleck response as he ran down the passage. I hurried after him.
I heard a phone ring, and Emery pulled out his machine and pressed it against his ear. "Yes, sir?" There was a pause. "Very well, sir. We will meet you there."
He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and we aimed our steps downstairs to the front hall. It was a large foyer with an open-beam ceiling that ended in a point at its highest tip. Large doors on either side led to the wings of the castle, and a grand staircase led to some of the higher floors at the rear of the castle. There were passages on either side of the staircase that led to the gymnasium and, I recently learned, the kitchen. Large, ancient tapestries covered the stone walls, and small tables with vases filled with fragrant flowers were positioned along the walls.
We rushed out of the east-wing doors and Emery stopped us near the foot of the staircase. At the top of the staircase was a pair of thick wooden doors that led to the center of the castle. The doors flew open and a black-clad ninja stepped into the doorway. All but their eyes and the tips of their fingers was covered in a thin black cloth. Their fingers sported long nails and ruby-red nail polish, and there was a distinct scent of cream around them. A single-strap bag was slung over one shoulder, and I saw there was a soft bulge in the cloth.
Fox made his appearance from the west wing armed not with his usual tranquilizer, but with a real black pistol. He pointed the gun at the intruder.
"I must ask you to set the bag down and put up your hands," Fox requested.
The ninja crouched and jumped into the air. They sailed over our heads and landed neatly and silently on the floor between the front doors and us. We spun around and the ninja waved their hand at us. Their fingers emitted a dense, charcoal-scented fog that swept over us. My eyes burned and I choked on the smoke. Fox moved to stand in front of me with his hand covering his mouth. The ninja leapt out of the smoke and swiped at Fox. Their long nails sliced his shirt, but he stumbled backward out of her reach and stopped at my side.
I growled and leapt at the intruder. The ninja jumped back into the smoke and I caught air. A whirring noise interrupted my next attack. The smoke blew towards the walls and was sucked into the air vents. The air cleared to reveal that our intruder was gone. Emery stood near a hidden panel situated behind one of the stones in the wall. He pressed a button that shut off the ventilation system.
Fox straightened and showed off five long, clean claw marks in his suit shirt. He glared at the front door.
Emery came up to stand just behind and to his side. "I’m sorry, sir. They seem to have escaped."
Fox nodded. "So it seems. Have we confirmed what was stolen?"
Emery turned to the staircase and the open doors. He adjusted his glasses and pursed his lips. "I would venture to guess our intruder stole the Cornerstone."
The usually stoic businessman clenched his teeth. "Damn it. . ."
I looked from one of them to the other. "They broke in here to swipe a hunk of rock?"
"If you will excuse me," Fox replied. He stalked off to the west wing and shut the door hard behind him.
I turned to Emery and jerked my thumb at the shut door. "Mind explaining that?"
"I’m not at liberty to say," Emery told me.
I folded my arms and glared at him. "Why not?"
"Again, I’m not at liberty to say," he insisted.
I rolled my eyes and dropped my arms. "Then I’m not at liberty to stay awake any longer. Ring the alarm if you need me."
I shuffled off to bed and slept soundly until evening. A knock on the door awoke me. I peeked my head out of the covers and sighed. "Come in."
The door opened and Emery stepped inside, but stayed by the door. "Mr. Fox would like to speak with you."
I crawled out of the covers, sat on the end of the bed, and stretched my arms above my head. "He knows where I sleep."
"The matter would be better discussed in his office," Emery returned.
I froze in place with my arms stuck in stretch and my mouth open in a yawn. My jaw snapped shut. "His office?" I repeated.
"Yes. If you would follow me please," he requested as he gestured to the doorway.
I stood and walked into the hall. Emery shut the door behind us and led me downstairs to the entrance hall. He opened the west wing doors and revealed not a room but an elevator. The walls were bare silver a panel that contained only six buttons. We stepped inside, and I looked around the tiny space and frowned.
"I was expecting this part of the house to be a little bigger," I commented.
"The west wing is the mechanical shop and essentially detached from the rest of the castle. Mr. Fox’s office is located in the Towers below the castle," Emery explained. He pressed the button on the panel marked ‘O’ and the elevator traveled downward.
"So why does he want to see me in such official surroundings?" I asked him.
"That would be better explained by Mr. Fox," Emery told me.
I frowned, but didn’t ask any other questions. When Emery was stubborn it was like talking with a broken record, or a brick wall. The elevator stopped at the appointed floor and we stepped out onto carpeted flooring, and a long, wide hallway. The decor was basic gray with a few modern paintings to finish off the Post-Modern feel of the place. Doors stood on either side of the hall, and at the end of the passage was a pair of black doors. I didn’t need three guesses to know who those belonged to.
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