The Sleeping Goblin (A Brimstone Witch Mystery Book 4)

  The Sleeping Goblin

  A Brimstone Witch Mystery

  (Book 4)

  By

  April Fernsby

  www.aprilfernsby.com

  Copyright 2017 by April Fernsby

  Front Cover by www.coverkicks.com

  Proofreading done by Paula Proofreader

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form, electronically or mechanically without permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  About the author

  Chapter 1

  “Don’t do it,” Gran warned.

  I snatched my hand back from the handle of the cellar door and proclaimed, “I wasn’t doing anything. Honestly.”

  Gran moved closer to me. “Cassia Winter, don’t lie to me. I know you’re determined to go through that door. I’ve told you it’s not safe out there in Brimstone yet. We have to wait till we get the all-clear from Blythe.”

  I glanced at the cellar door in front of me. The magical town of Brimstone lay beyond it. I was a witch, and I undertook justice work in Brimstone. I’d brought a murderer to justice two days ago and hadn’t been back to the town since. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to go back to Brimstone; it was because there was a huge amount of black magic hanging over the town like an enormous cloud full of pollution. It was having a bad effect on the residents and even driving some of them to murder. Blythe was in charge of the town and we were awaiting to hear back from her about the pollution.

  My hand sneaked towards the handle of its own accord. There was a tinge of hope in my voice as I said to Gran, “Can’t we have a little peep? The black magic might be gone now. Blythe might have forgotten to tell us that it’s safe to go back through.”

  Gran folded her arms tightly and gave me a hard look. “No, you can’t have a peep outside. And, no, I’m sure Blythe wouldn’t have forgotten to tell us if it was okay for us to return to Brimstone. Cassia, step away from the door. We are not going through till we know for certain it’s safe out there.”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m worried about the residents. What if something terrible has happened to them? What if they’ve been fighting each other?” My voice rose. “What if they’ve murdered each other?”

  Gran unfolded her arms. “Then there’s no rush for you to go through, is there? Come away from the door. Let’s have something to eat. You haven’t eaten a full meal for days. That’s not like you at all.”

  I couldn’t tear my attention away from the door. “I can’t eat. I’m too worried.”

  Two cats padded over to us. One had thick, black fur and looked in good health. The other had grey fur and looked as if he’d been in the wars. The grey-furred cat was Stanley, and he was my familiar. The black cat was his brother, Oliver, who was Gran’s familiar.

  Stanley said, “Can we go through the door yet? Can we go back to Brimstone? I want to see how everyone is out there.”

  I shook my head. “We haven’t had any news from Blythe yet.”

  Stanley sighed. “I’m worried about the residents. The black magic could have had a terrible effect on them.” He gulped. “They could have killed each other in a mad frenzy of hate. Can’t we even have a little peep through?”

  I gave Gran a swift look. “No, Gran won’t let us.”

  Oliver settled himself next to Gran’s legs and said, “Quite right too. You don’t know what’s out there waiting for you.”

  Stanley hopped from paw to paw. “It doesn’t feel right to stand here and do nothing. Can’t I pop my head through the cat flap? I’ll be careful.”

  “Absolutely not,” Oliver informed his brother. “There could be a maniac with an axe just waiting for you to do that. He’d chop your head off in a flash and then where would you be?”

  Gran said, “Oliver, there’s no need for dramatics. But you are right; Stanley shouldn’t go through the cat flap. We’ll wait patiently until we get the word from Blythe. Come on everyone; we’re not going to stand next to this door all day like silly sausages. Let’s go upstairs and have a cup of tea.” She turned away from the door and walked across the cellar floor. Oliver gave me a cool look before following Gran.

  My shoulders dropped, and I reluctantly turned away from the door. “Come on, Stanley. We can’t stay here all day waiting for something to happen.”

  Stanley said quietly, “Something just did. Look.”

  His eyes were wide as he watched a creature fluttering towards us. It was a Brimstone butterfly. The town of Brimstone is named after these beautiful creatures. I watched in awe as it hovered inches from my nose, its wings flapping slowly.

  Stanley said, “How did it get through the door? Is there a gap somewhere?”

  I stared at the butterfly. “I don’t know. It must have used magic.” I called out, “Gran, there’s a butterfly here. I think it might have a message for us.”

  The Brimstone butterflies have the wonderful ability to deliver messages to the residents of Brimstone. And us, by the looks of it. The message could be verbal or written. Some residents even sang their message to the butterflies who then repeated it to the receiver of the message in the same manner.

  Gran was halfway up the stairs. She said, “Pardon? Did you just say we had a message?”

  “I did.” I smiled at the butterfly and held my hand out. If it was a message for me, it would land on my hand. The butterfly hovered for a second and then alighted on my palm.

  Gran came to my side and looked at the butterfly. Oliver padded after her.

  “Well?” Gran said. “What’s the message? Who’s it from? Don’t just stand there smiling at the creature like you’ve got all day.”

  I spoke to the butterfly, “I’m ready for my message, thank you.”

  The pale yellow butterfly opened its wings to reveal the message that had been written there:

  ‘Cassia, I need to see you urgently. Bring Stanley but don’t bring your gran or Oliver. The black magic in Brimstone has gone, and it’s safe for you to come through. Please hurry. Blythe’

  Gran gave me a puzzled look. “Why doesn’t she want to see me?”

  “Or me?” Oliver asked in an offended tone.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. I turned my attention to the butterfly and said, “Can you send a reply to Blythe to say Stanley and I are on our way? Thank you.”

  The writing on the butterfly’s wings disappeared and was replaced with my message. The butterfly lifted from my hand and flew towards the door. I watched in amazement as it went straight through the top corner of the wood.

  I said to Gran, “I didn’t know the butterflies could do that. They’re wonderful, aren’t they?”

  Gran was tapping her chin and looking thoughtful. “Why doesn’t Blythe want to see me? We’ve known eac
h other for more years than I care to remember. I thought she’d want to talk to me about this black magic business.”

  Oliver added, “The message must have been wrong. It must have been for you, not Cassia.”

  Another butterfly came silently through the door. It hovered near Gran. She held her hand out and the butterfly landed on it.

  Gran gave it a nod. “This is more like it. I knew Blythe would want to see me too.”

  The butterfly opened its wings and Gran read the message. The smile left her face and her brow furrowed.

  Oliver said, “What does it say? Does Blythe want us to go through the door immediately?”

  Gran’s eyes looked suddenly too bright, and she forced the smile back on her face. “No, she doesn’t want us to leave here. This message confirms that Blythe only wants to see Cassia and Stanley. She’s most insistent that neither you or I go through to Brimstone.” She tried to laugh, but it got stuck in her throat.

  I put my hand on Gran’s arm and said, “I’m sure Blythe isn’t insulting you. She’s probably got some menial work for Stanley and me to do, and she doesn’t want to bother you with it.”

  Gran cleared her throat. “Yes, you’re probably right. Just because I’ve been friends with Blythe for years, and I’ve been worried sick about her these last few days…” Her voice trailed off. She gave a curt reply to the butterfly to announce she’d leave Blythe and Brimstone in peace. The butterfly fluttered back through the door.

  Oliver mumbled, “I don’t understand it. Why doesn’t she want to see us? I want to know what’s been happening in Brimstone. I want to know what happened to the black magic.” He lifted his head and gave Gran a pleading look. “Don’t you, Esther?”

  “If Blythe wanted us to know, she’d ask to see us,” Gran replied curtly. “Anyway, I’m too busy to go into Brimstone today. I need to wash those curtains in the living room. I’ve been putting it off for too long.” She turned away from me but not before I saw the hurt in her eyes.

  I said, “Gran, I’m sure Blythe didn’t mean to upset you. She’s not like that.”

  Gran shrugged and looked away.

  I continued, “When we’ve been to see Blythe, do you want us to come back here and tell you what she said? We can let you know what’s been going on in Brimstone too.”

  Gran shrugged again and mumbled, “If you want to. I don’t really care. I’ll be too busy with my curtains anyway.”

  I put my arms around Gran and gave her a hug. She was stiff and it was like hugging an ironing board. I held onto her until she relented and hugged me back.

  I released her and said, “Stanley and I will return soon with lots of news. You know how nosy Stanley is. He’ll find out everything that’s been going on in Brimstone.”

  Stanley chuckled. “You’re right. I am a nosy cat.”

  Gran pushed a lock of my hair to one side and gave me a fond smile. “You take care out there. Come back soon. I want to know everything.” She looked down at Oliver. “Come on, let’s attack those curtains.”

  I waited until Gran and Oliver had left the cellar before turning to the door. My hand hovered nervously over the handle.

  I said to Stanley, “Now that we can go through, I don’t think I want to. I feel scared.”

  Stanley moved closer to me. “There’s no need to be scared. I’m right at your side.”

  I smiled at him and then opened the cellar door.

  Chapter 2

  Stanley and I walked through the open door and into Brimstone. It was a beautiful sunny day and the sky was a gorgeous shade of light blue. There wasn’t a single cloud to be seen.

  Stanley inhaled deeply and so did I.

  He said, “Smell that. Isn’t it lovely? So fresh and inviting. It’s like a summer’s morning when you know you’ve got all day to have an adventure.”

  I nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s like when you’re setting off on your holidays and you can leave all your worries behind.” I inhaled again. “It makes you feel glad to be alive.”

  We looked at the familiar town of Brimstone in front of us. There was a large grass square set in the middle of the town with a big wooden gazebo at its centre. Picnic tables and benches were dotted around the square inviting you to take a rest. Some of the benches were occupied by the residents of Brimstone who were chatting and smiling at each other. I noticed other beings walking around the square and going about their daily business. No one was in a rush, and there was a peaceful feeling in the air as if everyone had all day to saunter along. I noticed a vampire stopping to chat to a werewolf and was pleased to see the friendliness on their faces.

  Stanley must have noticed too because he said, “It doesn’t look like anyone’s about to kill someone. And I can’t see any corpses lying around.”

  I nodded. “Perhaps all the black magic has gone for good. Maybe things are back to normal.”

  We took another moment to take in the peaceful scene before walking along the cobbled road in front of us. There was a tree at the end of the road which was covered in pale green and yellow Brimstone butterflies. The creatures shook slightly as we smiled up at them. It was like they were saying hello to us.

  Stanley and I strolled along the street and gave friendly nods to the beings we encountered. It was nice to feel welcome. There had been times recently when I hadn’t felt so welcome. I pushed those thoughts away. That was in the past.

  We headed along the street to Blythe’s house. It was the largest house in Brimstone and was made out of red bricks which had gold flecks in them. As the sun caught the flecks, it made the bricks shimmer and gave the illusion of the house not quite being there - like a mirage.

  As we walked along the path to the house, Stanley said, “I’m so glad the black magic has gone. It’ll be nice to spend time here without worrying about when the next murder is going to happen. We can relax and chill out. We could have a barbecue.”

  “That sounds good.” I knocked on Blythe’s door. It was opened by a small creature who was dressed in brown clothes. “Hi, Brin. We got Blythe’s message.”

  Brin was a brownie who helped Blythe run the town of Brimstone. I used to have chats with Brin when I was little, and I asked her questions about being a brownie. She told me brownies were helpful creatures who would sneak into people’s homes at the end of the day and finish those household tasks that hadn’t been completed. In return for their help, the homeowner would leave a gift out for them - nothing special, perhaps a bowl of cream or a bar of chocolate. As I grew up, I kept hoping a brownie would visit my house to complete my ironing, but it never happened. Perhaps they only live in magical towns like Brimstone.

  Brin’s normally neat hair was bedraggled and looked as if it hadn’t had any contact with a brush recently. There were dark circles under her eyes and her usually rosy cheeks were pale. She twisted her hands together in an agitated manner and attempted to smile at us. It was a poor attempt.

  My hackles immediately rose and I knew something was wrong. “Brin? Is everything alright? Where’s Blythe?”

  Brin opened the door wider and said, “Come in. Are you alone? You didn’t bring Esther or Oliver with you, did you?”

  “No. The message from Blythe told us not to.”

  Stanley and I stepped into the house and Brin quickly shut the door behind us.

  Brin looked up at us with fearful eyes and said, “I need you to prepare yourselves for a shock. Blythe’s upstairs in her bed.” She swallowed nervously. “She looks different. A lot different. She’s been through a demanding time these last few days and it’s taken its toll on her.”

  “Is it to do with the black magic?” I asked. “Did she confront her cousins about it? I know she suspected they were behind the black magic that was coming into Brimstone. The last time I saw her, Blythe was on her way to challenge them.”

  Brin’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. Her voice was hoarse as she said, “Blythe wants to see you. Follow me.”

  She led us up the stairs a
nd along a brightly lit hallway.

  My heart was beating too fast and an awful feeling of foreboding was painfully gripping my stomach.

  Blythe ran the town of Brimstone with a fair but stern hand. She was a 300-year-old witch, but she didn’t look a day over forty. She had raven black hair that fell in perfect waves over her shoulders. Her skin was clear and blemish-free. Her most striking aspect were her purple eyes. She always wore long, flowing clothes in many shades of purple to complement her beautiful eyes. She’d been Gran’s friend for years, and she felt like family to me. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything awful happening to her.

  Brin stopped at a door and turned her pale face to us. She said, “Try not to be too shocked.” She opened the door and went inside.

  Stanley and I didn’t say a word as we followed Brin into the darkened room. It was a large bedroom which had been decorated in many tones of purple. Thick curtains hung at the far side of the room. They had been drawn but a small chink of sunlight had managed to find its way through a gap. In the middle of the room was a large bed with a small bedside table at the side of it. A lamp on the table gave out a small amount of light.

  Brin was standing next to the bed and looking at the person who was lying beneath the purple bed cover.

  Stanley whispered, “Who’s that in the bed? I’m too scared to move closer.”

  I felt the same but forced myself to move. There could only be one person in that bed.

  My feet felt heavy as I moved towards the bed. I stopped at the side and looked at the frail creature lying there. She was small and thin with wisps of grey hair dotted around her skull. Her shrivelled, pale skin had too many wrinkles. Her breathing was heavy and laboured. She looked skeletal and on the brink of death.

  My voice was low as I said to Brin, “Who’s that? What are they doing in Blythe’s house?” I feared I already knew the answer, but my brain was refusing to accept it.

  A rasping sound came from the person in the bed, followed by, “Cassia, come closer.”

  I didn’t want to. I stayed where I was; my heart filling with dread as every second passed.