Dustin Long - Icelander

“Go ahead and get some rest, Pa. I just came by to see how you were doing and to bring you the groceries. I know how you always get down around this time of year, so I brought you stockfish for dinner.”

“Mmm. Stockfish is my favorite.”

“I know it is, Pa.”

“I will cherish it always.”

Despite the anticipatory rise of nausea, she continued: “There’s another reason I came, too, Papa. You probably won’t remember this when I leave, and it’s probably best that you don’t, but I should at least let you know… It’s about Shirley.”

“Shirley… Oh, I have always liked her.”

“Yeah, she liked you, too, Pa. She looked up to you… Actually, I think she even had a bit of a crush on you, but… I’m sorry.”

“It is all right, dear thing.”

“No… She’s—Shirley is—”

“Why are you crying, dear thing? Do not cry!”

“It’s okay, Pa. Sit down. I’m sorry, I’ve just been trying not to think about it. I can’t think about it right now. She’s dead, Pa. Shirley’s dead.”

“Shirley?”

“I’m going to talk to Blaise today—to make sure he doesn’t go off on some vengeance trip and try to find the killer himself. I thought at first that maybe I should just tell him to come and talk to you, since you know what it’s like to… I mean—”

“Surt!”

“Pa… Surt’s dead.”

“He did this. He murdered our Miss MacGuffin.”

“He’s dead, Pa. I know. He died saving me.”

“Hmph. I snort derisively at that, for nonetheless this is he. I warned her of him when she came to me, for he has loosed himself from Leyding before, and Dromi, as well. Fetch me my belt. I must go find him and finish this for now and ever. Though dead already he shall die again!”

“Calm down, Pa. It’s okay. I don’t think we should go anywhere right now. We need to—”

“I shall fetch it myself, then. For I will not have you going off to find the killer by yourself. It is not safe for you, dear thing.”

“Wait a minute, shouldn’t we—”

“But there is no minute to wait!”

“Okay, but shouldn’t we wait for Mom? I mean, won’t it be better if you’re here to tell her about it? I really think she should hear it from you, so you can keep her calm. Who knows what she’ll do otherwise? You need to protect her. I’ll go try to find her, and I’ll send her back here to talk to you. I’ll let you break the news to her, okay?”

“Hmm… Yes, I see that it will be best that way. Go find her now and bring her to me.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. And you get some rest.”

“Hmm. All right, yes. It is always nice to see you, my dear. I will let your mother know that you stopped by.”

“All right, Pa. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“Yes, yes. Okay. Bye-bye, dear thing.”

Outside, Our Heroine’s tracks had been filled to indistinction by the snow’s ceaseless fall, though fresh footprints were visible in the path she’d taken. Palimpsestuous.

She smelled smoke before she saw it, a buttery blend, brimming visibly, volubly, from Mr. Wible’s short and wide pipe. Mr. Pacheco, looming thinly behind, stifled a cough as the smoke and its aroma diffused into the fog around him. Fire and water conspiring to further obscure the discernible.

“I didn’t expect to see you guys here,” she said.

“When flees the unknown, never are we two far behind, pursuing. Wishing not to interrupt your counsel with your father, we have been awaiting you here.”

“Are you still talking like that?”

“Still we speak as always we have spoken, yes, as still you jest too freely in the face of the Great Mystery of Death… At the moment, however, my partner and I are more concerned with another of the Major Arcana: Art. We have been given to understand that Ms. MacGuffin endowed you with certain ‘documents’ before her death. They are documents that I and my partner have been hired to retrieve.”

“Look, I don’t want to—You know, actually, I’ve always wondered about that. Are you guys? Partners, I mean.”

“Yes, of course we are partners. But you are ignoring the thrust of our enquiry. If you possess the documents to which we refer, then we must iterate that divesting yourself of them would be to your benefit. You cannot realize their full import. They would be safer in our care, as would you if they were there.”

“Wait a second. Slow down. You haven’t even told me what these documents are.”

“Did Ms. MacGuffin endow you with more than one set of… documents?”

“She didn’t endow me with anything. But I—Ugh. Can we not do this, please? I mean, how does this case even remotely fit into the sort of thing that you guys handle?”

“The case is the world, as we have told you time over. We seek its limits, which Shirley MacGuffin has now transgressed; beyond these limits lies the metaphysical. So is our involvement warranted.”

“Oh. Well, whatever; I don’t have the documents you’re looking for.”

“Attempt not to deceive us. There is neither need for that nor hope of success. You are aware, no doubt, that certain documents were stolen from her in the weeks prior to her demise?”

“Sure, but you think I stole them?”

“No, of course not. However, we do have reason to believe that the documents with which she endowed you were related to those that were stolen, and if you were to help us—”

“Sincerely, gentlemen. I can’t help you.”

“The Fool. That is what you are like. Treading dangerously close to a precipice that you do not perceive. Your dog barks a warning, but you do not hear.”

“Okay, that’s just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it? Or is it the wisest thing you have ever heard?”

“No. It’s the dumbest.”

“Hmph. We shall see if that is true. But perhaps you will speak with less flippancy when you have realized for yourself the gravity of our statements. That we are not ‘kidding,’ so to speak… But for now you may go your way, separate though it may be from our own. Be mindful of what we have said, however. We have always had fondness for you and would be quite distressed if Ms. MacGuffin’s fate were one that you were to share.”

“Are you guys threatening me? I never took you for the Pinkerton types; I thought your spiritual path ran above that sort of thing…”

“Threatening you?”

“Well, suggesting that I might share Shirley’s fate if I don’t help you…”

“Oh. No, of course not. Pardon our lack of clarity. We realize only now that such a statement could be readily interpreted in more manners than one. It was our wish to mean it simply in a manner that was not a threat and which conveyed genuine concern for your safety. Though in amiability we might also suggest that it might be dangerous indeed were you to attempt this investigation on your own.”

“Noted. And as long as we’re being amiable, I do like the mustache, Pacheco. The grey Fu Manchu thing works for you. It does a lot for your image as a mystery metaphysician. Goes well with the trench coat.”

“Your valueless flattery is not enough to distract us from our purpose.”

“Duly noted. But, as pleasant as this all has been, I should really be going now.”

“Of course. And in opposition to my partner, I appreciate your appreciation of my moustache. It took me quite a while to grow it out.”

“Well, it was worth it. It looks good.”

“The Image is the mask of Substance, but sometimes the two can become transposed.”

“Okay. I’ll see you guys later, then.”

“Indeed you shall. Indeed you shall.”

Mr. Wible and Mr. Pacheco, partners, first offered their assistance to Emily Bean during the Case of the Consternated Cossacks. [8] See Volume 5 of The Memoirs of Emily Bean . It all began when some southern Soviet investors decided to finance the construction of a Valhalla-themed restaurant in Vanaheim. They called in a medium to consult the local fairies before any work began, of course—they all knew the story of the famous Icelander whose whole life went to ruin just because he moved a stone from one side of the road to the other without asking for permission first. Yet although the Hidden Folk expressed mild displeasure at the prospect of relocation, they gave no warning of the deaths to come.