Mirror mirror, who’s the killer?: Wyld Enchantment Woods Cozy Mystery by Carpenter Kura Jane

Author:Carpenter, Kura Jane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wicked Unicorn Press
Published: 2022-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Hansel and Gretel

Huntsman tavern, Southgate square, Charmington.

“You’re going the wrong way. The bakery is that building there.” Tom jabbed a white paw toward the three-storey stone building, set a little back from its neighbours in Southgate square.

“I know but I’m going into the tavern because it’s between the bakery and the coaching stables, and the Chelton’s implied Bron had been drinking…”

“I don’t think you should go in.” Tomcat dug his claws into the icy cobbles. “That tavern looks rough.”

Tom had a point. The Huntsman tavern had certainly seen better days. Located just within the south gate, the once-grand old building had lost its lustre and its clientele as use of the forest road dwindled once the ice road became the main thoroughfare into the township. Surrounding businesses relocated to the northern side of town or closed down. Only the neighbouring bakery, stables and butchery remained in operation, less easy to relocate due to their machinery and size.

The Huntsman tavern had suffered in other ways too, more than just loss of foot traffic. A year ago, a fire had ripped through the top floor. The damage hadn’t been repaired, the upstairs windows were all boarded over, and much of the upper stonework was still blackened.

But Ella knew appearances were deceptive. The Huntsman had a very loyal patronage, many of whom like her were of a much older set.

She gave Tomcat a wink. “Keep your eyes open, you might spot a juicy rat. Yum!”

“That’s not funny!” Tom said, scampering at her heels to stay close when she pushed the door open.

Ella blinked as she entered the gloom within. No daylight entered the Huntsman. By design.

Tomcat tugged the hem of Ella’s cloak. “Can we please go,” he whispered, surveying the dark interior. At the bar, no large mirrors served to help reflect the melted stubs of candles nestled atop yellowing skulls from assorted animals. Wolves, horses, large birds of prey, and even human skulls, grinning with gap-toothed animosity, were stacked between rows of ancient green bottles sulking under a layer of dust.

“What are you complaining about?” Ella said with a shrug. “I like it. It’s got an atmosphere.”

“Atmosphere of death,” Tom muttered as they edged through the empty tables and chairs towards the tall bar where Bron the baker was slouched on a stool, asleep within a veritable forest of shot glasses, wine bottles and beer mugs, his face smooshed to the countertop.

The swing door behind the bar into the kitchen swooshed open. A pretty little blonde pigtailed girl in a blue denim dirndl skipped up to the bar, hopped up on a box or step located for her use, and set a tiny, multi-faceted, crystal bottle on the counter.

“Scheisse! Is Highness!” the little girl cried, spying Ella, and clapped her hands to her face in apparent surprise or joy.

“Gretel,” Ella acknowledged with a nod.

Gretel turned her head and bellowed over her shoulder, “Hansel! Dummkopf! Bring buttocks here! Schnell!”

Ella in the meantime levered herself up onto a barstool beside the snoring baker.

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