Page 5 of Holiday Cheese and Capers
Minerva studied this newcomer with interest. She stood well over six feet tall, with the kind of broad, muscular build that suggested there was giant ancestry somewhere in her bloodline. She was older than she’d seemed at first glance. Perhaps as old as Minerva, even. It was hard to tell with giants. They always seemed ageless. Despite her obvious senior status, there wasnothing stooped or frail about her. The giantess inhabited her considerable height with a subtle grace that came from decades of learning to fit herself into a world built too small for her people. Her wavy purple-and-silver streaked hair hung loose, framing a face that was handsome and strong-boned. She had deeply set, ice-blue eyes that missed nothing. And she wasn’t shy. She looked up at the crowd of people staring at her, smiled shrewdly, and executed a small bow. She knew her arrival had been a bit melodramatic, and she was prepared to own it.
“Exandra.” Zephyr had stood up, and stepped forward toward the newcomer. His voice was somewhere between surprised and delighted. “I thought you were far too busy to come along on a cruise! What in blazes are you doing here?”
“Zephyr Nightshade.” She nodded to him with genuine warmth, though she didn’t put Fred down. “I might ask you the same thing. Never in a million years would I have expected to see an old agent like you whiling the hours away on acruise ship. A holiday cheese tour, no less!”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” Zephyr winked, utterly unfazed. “Retirement sure has its perks.” He gestured to Minerva. “I’m here with my new bride?—”
“Yes, yes. Ms. Lathrop, yes, I’d heard the rumors.” Exandra’s imperious gaze flicked to Minerva, assessing and dismissing her in the same moment. Her tone remained polite but cool. “You must be the bookshop proprietor.”
“Former proprietor,” Minerva corrected mildly, refusing to be ruffled. “Current fromagerie owner. And it’s Lathrop-Nightshade now.”
“You are a mouse shifter as well as a witch, if the rumors are correct?”
“I am,” Minerva confirmed.This giant doesn’t beat around the bush, she thought.
“Interesting. I suppose that explains the cheese obsession.” Exandra continued to stare at Minerva, unblinking.
“Amongst other things.” Minerva forced herself to keep her chin held high. She’d heard more than a few stories about Zephyr’s former partner in fighting magical crimes. She knew the giantess possessed superstrength and a pinch of compulsion. It had made her most valuable when fighting vampires. She was impervious to their wiles. But somehow she wasn’t quite what Minerva had pictured. She was… unnerving.
“Exandra.” Bayard had finally found his voice. He limped toward them, his cane tapping against the deck. “I... we didn’t... ummm…You’re not on the passenger manifest.” His shoulders slumped. “Your assistant wired me to say you couldn’t get away to join us.”
“Correct. This is not leisure time for me. I’m here in my official capacity, on a last-minute assignment.” She straightened to her full height, still cradling Fred, and suddenly she was all business again. Official, professional, in control. But Minerva noticed the way her fingers twitched as they stroked Fred’s feathers. Most suspicious.
“We’ve received some troubling reports of cheese-related incidents that require further investigation before they escalate.”
“Incidents?” Bayard’s voice cracked slightly.
“Yes. Some of them at fromageries along this route.” Exandra’s eyes swept across the assembled passengers, most of whom were still watching her with undisguised curiosity. “Someone’s been targeting magical cheese production. Sabotaging cultures, damaging equipment. The Society was only just made aware.”
Bayard’s face somehow got even paler. “I... I see.”
“They’re calling the perpetrator the Culture Vulture,” Exandra continued. She was looking at everyone except Bayard now, her jaw set. “It all sounds dramatic, I know, but accurate. Someone’s threatening Yule cheese production across the region. I’m here to make sure everyone on this tour stays safe and sound and to catch whoever’s responsible.”
Zephyr frowned. He glanced from Exandra to Bayard. “That sounds very concerning. Bayard, did you know about this?”
“I... I had heard there was a small incident at one of the fromageries upstream,” Bayard admitted, still staring at Exandra. “Nothing major, though. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“Well, it’s considered to be a major big deal now.” Exandra looked directly at him, and for just a brief moment, something raw, vulnerable, and protective flashed across her face. Then her professional mask slid back into place. “So I’m afraid you’ll be stuck with me keeping you all safe for the duration of the cruise.”
“That’s... that’s fine, absolutely fine!” Bayard managed. “Of course. We’re happy to cooperate with the investigation. Aren’t we, Fred?”
Fred, still in Exandra’s arms, quacked his agreement while simultaneously trying to worm his way into the pouch pocket of her track suit.
“I should find the captain to brief him and get myself settled,” Exandra said abruptly. “Sorry for the dramatic entrance, Bay. Didn’t mean to crash your party.”
She set Fred down with obvious reluctance, and the duck immediately positioned himself between her and Bayard, looking up at both of them as if existentially torn between which one he wanted to follow. His obvious confusion was almost heartbreaking. Bayard scooped him up and patted him, murmuring words of comfort.
As Exandra strode away toward the ship’s interior, her pack over one shoulder, Minerva noticed the tiniest hitch in her confident stride. It was just for a moment after she walked out the door, a flash of hesitation that looked like something else.
Bayard stood rooted to the spot, watching her go.
“Well,” Zephyr said. “I for one am delighted to have the old gang all back together. I’m sure whatever the Culture Vulture has in store, they’re no match for a crack agent like our Exxie.”
Later that evening,after the reception dispersed, a smaller group gathered near the bow for the sail away. Bayard, Zephyr, Minerva, Wren (notebook ever present), and Jasper, who’d been tasked with fetching a tray of after-dinner cordials, tossed magical, eco-safe confetti over the railing. It glided down toward the river in shimmering ribbons before evaporating.
Exandra stood a few feet apart from the group. She was leaning against the railing with her back to the receding lights of Geneva, watching them.
Before long, the ship had begun its journey, floating smoothly above the darkening water. The hum of magic beneath their feet had settled into a pleasant, rhythmic thrum.
