Good time?
Her phone hummed, and she raised it to her ear. “Hey, Qenzi.”
“Sorry for not picking up earlier. The Sphynxes and I were interrogating a shapeshifting trickster entity from the Himalayas. It’s not easy.”
Val straightened. “Wait. You know the Sphynxes?”
“That’s classified. I only told you because you’re a knight of the realm, but keep it to yourself,” Qenzi warned.
“You know the Sphynxes?” Val repeated.
“They work for us. Well, sometimes. When they feel like it. They’re arbiters of truth, so they’re great during important interrogations…if they show up. Why?” Qenzi asked.
Val bit her lip. “One visits me sometimes. Cleo. Do you know why she’d do that?”
“Merlin only knows. Actually, I don’t think he does. They do what they want.” Qenzi laughed. “They’re benevolent, though.”
When they’re not causing accidents, Val thought.
“How can I help?” the troll asked.
“I was hoping you’d have information about the case I emailed you about last night,” Val admitted. “The gangsters I fought?”
“The one that Major Ardelean recorded?” Qenzi asked. “Started with a brick through someone’s car window.”
Val nodded. “That’s the one.”
Qenzi sighed. “We’re not allowed to prosecute humans under Eternity Law. We can’t get involved with this case except to keep Blair and Yuka safe, which you’re already doing. It’s the NYPD’s jurisdiction.”
“They’re not very helpful,” Val grumbled. “I’ve called them, and they just tell me that they can’t disclose anything about an active investigation. If I get through to a human being.”
“Taking hundreds of calls is hard if all of your employees have only two arms,” Qenzi sympathized. “Sorry, Val. If you feel you need backup...”
“No, it’s cool, thanks.” Val smiled. “I know I can call on the OPMA if I need help. I was just hoping to get this ordeal over with for these dwarves sooner rather than later.”
“I hear you.” Qenzi sighed. “I’ll tell you if there are any developments, but so far, we’re just monitoring the case.”
“Thanks, Qenz. Coming to the Fist for drinks sometime?” Val asked.
Qenzi chuckled. “It’s out of my way, but if you guys still have that great pilsner Anvil Brewery makes, I’ll swing by this weekend.”
“That’d be great,” Val told her.
She hung up and warily eyed the NYPD’s number, then lowered her phone. She’d spent enough time listening to hold music and automated voices for one day.
“What we really need, Gennie, is a contact in human law enforcement,” she murmured.
Genevieve honked sheepishly.
“Yeah, I know the cops chase you in Bay Ridge.” Val rolled her eyes. “As if they’ll ever catch us. I should have asked Officer Harris for his number.”
Genevieve waved her windshield wipers.
Val scoffed. “Not like that, silly.”
Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a FaceTime call. Val took it and looked directly up her father’s nostrils. “Dad! Gross! Move the phone!”
The screen blurred, then offered Val a brief view of his ear hole before it went dark. “Hello?” Frode demanded.
“Dad, it’s on video. Hold it in front of your face so I can see you,” Val moaned.
“Oh!” Frode held the phone up and grinned. “There’s my little spark!” His smile faded. “You look exhausted.”
“I am exhausted,” Val admitted. “I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“I’m sorry, darling.” Frode grinned. “You’ll sleep soundly tonight, though. The iron grilles are done. I’ve sent them via brownie express, so they’ll be waiting for you at Blair and Yuka’s house when you get there.”
Val gasped. “Seriously?”
“Of course. Oh, and I added copper threads, so you and Blair can use your magic when you install them,” Frode added. “It won’t take you more than fifteen minutes for the lot.”
“Dad, you’re a legend. Thank you so much.” Val’s tired shoulders loosened. “I appreciate it.”
“Anything for you, little spark,” Frode reassured her. “You look peaky. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I haven’t been getting as much sleep as I’d like,” Val confessed. “It’s hectic.”
“That’s because you’re trying to do everything on your own,” Frode chided. “Didn’t I tell you that you can’t burn the candle at both ends?”
