Saving Fable by Scott Reintgen

Author:Scott Reintgen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2019-09-16T16:00:00+00:00

People heard. The twins, her classmates, arrived first. Indira yelled for them to get the brainstorms and to get them now. That command was followed by a dangerous thought. The attacker might be one of the brainstorms. Vesulias was down here right before it happened, and the two of them were arguing.

Indira shivered. Could he really have done this? And if not him, then who?

She heard footsteps thundering overhead. People were coming. She stood beside Dr. Montague, unable to bear looking at his puppet eyes and stitched lips. As she waited, hands trembling and mind racing, she noticed the first clue. Sitting on the second step was a black stone. It shimmered in the golden light of the Sepulcher. Indira leaned down and plucked it up. It was bone hard and oddly warm. She held it up to eye level and nearly gasped.

It wasn’t a stone. It was a dragon scale.

She pocketed the scale as a herd of people poured into the room. Indira recognized Brainstorm Underglass at the front. She glided forward, her collar high and dominating, her hair in a perfect bun. Behind her, Brainstorm Vesulias had a look of utter shock written across his dark features. If he was pretending to be surprised, he was a very good actor. Brainstorm Ketty came next, and Indira’s stomach gave a twist. She was wearing her black dragon-scale jacket.

“I found him like this,” Indira said. “I don’t know what happened.”

A doctor pressed through the gathered crowd and knelt. Indira stepped aside so the man could check Dr. Montague’s vitals and listen for things that, she supposed, non-doctors couldn’t hear. The man announced that he was still alive but marked by dark sorcery, and the doctor didn’t know the proper counterspells. Indira was about to explain what had happened when a raised voice echoed from the entrance.

“Everybody out of my crime scheme!” A fresh-off-the-page detective pushed through the crowd. He had an actual magnifying glass and a patterned cap, all set off by an ankle-length trench coat. “I need a ten-foot perimeter around the decreased.”

“We sent for Sherlock Holmes,” Brainstorm Underglass said crisply.

“Mr. Holmes wanted to be here, ma’am, but he’s on holiday in the Iron Lakes. A well-deserved vaccination after how hard he’s worked lately. Luckily, I got your call.” The detective slung an identification card out for her to see and whipped it back up just as quickly. Underglass started to complain, but the detective slid past and hovered over Dr. Montague. “Detective Malaprop, at your service. Time of death?”

“He’s not dead,” Brainstorm Vesulias answered. “His hands are moving.”

The detective leaned closer and examined Dr. Montague’s hand with his magnifying glass. After a few seconds he pulled out a spiral notepad.

“Time of death: in the future. Possible attacker could be a seamstress. Buttons were employed, as well as some expert stinching. Note to self: investigate all local haberdasheries.” Detective Malaprop was so engrossed with his investigation that he missed the incredulous stares of the brainstorms behind him. “Witnesses?”

“The girl found him,” Brainstorm Ketty supplied.

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