Nettle Blackthorn and the Three Wicked Sisters (30 page)

“
Wasn’t it just,” agreed Claudine with a sidelong glance. “I’d
better go help my sisters. Please take a seat and I’ll be with you
as soon as I can.” She went to guide the Blackthorns back to their
table when Nettle stopped her. There was someone else that had her
worried. “Can’t, we’d better find Jazz.”

Claudine
jerked around, her sapphire eyes mirroring Nettle’s alarm.
“Jasmine! Oh my, of course.”

“
She might be pinned underneath a ceiling rafter,” offered
Bram a little too eagerly.

“
We can only hope,” Nettle winked, grinning wryly.

Claudine
looked at the pair of them in a manner that suggested she wasn’t
sure if they were kidding or not. She took possession of Bram’s
hand and led him toward the entrance. Nettle trailed after them
both, and with each step her senses were assaulted from the diverse
dishes and drinks that had spilt upon the ground. Heady scents of
bacon and juniper; coriander and saffron; sour vinegar and orange
blossom; roses and lavender. It reminded her of walking through the
spicy atmosphere of a bazaar they’d visited a few years
ago.

Before
they’d gotten very far, Bram started bouncing up and down on the
spot, waving frantically. “There she is!” He called out. “Jazz,
over here!” Jazz had entered the tea house accompanied by Barber
Tuttlebee. Their cousin appeared unperturbed by the earthquake. As
usual she caused a ripple effect as she sauntered through the
dining room. Heads turned to look her way, mainly town folk, and
they allowed her to pass by before leaning in to whisper excitedly
to one another. Nettle supposed they’d heard she’d been offered the
role of Lysette, and by the look of their admiring expressions,
approved.

Claudine
turned a relieved smile upon the Blackthorns. She squeezed Bram’s
hand and said, “Thank goodness. All is well.” She then waited until
Jazz joined them before guiding the cousins back to the table in
the bay window. “Jasmine, I trust you are unharmed?”

Jazz shrugged
nonchalantly and made a half-hmmming noise as if she wasn’t exactly
positive she was. She slid into a free seat at the table as if
nothing untoward had occurred. Nettle and Bram took a seat either
side of her.

“
Ah, do excuse me, Barber Tuttlebee has something for me,”
Claudine apologised to the children. She was holding her mouth in a
way that had Nettle wondering if she might be trying not to show
just how pleased she was. She politely inclined her head and left
to join the barber waiting for her near the counter. He had in his
hand a crisp white envelope. Nettle watched her approach the
elderly man wondering what he might have for her when Bram’s
comment brought her back to her cousin.

Jazz’s hair
had been trimmed neatly into a pixie cut by Barber Tuttlebee and
he’d artfully hidden the few bald spots the spriggans had left her
with by concealing them below slightly longer locks of hair,
sprayed heavily into place.

“
I like it,” Bram said. “Those girls will think twice before
tackling you on the hockey field.”

Jazz
straightened, eying Bram with a new found respect.

Bram was
right, Nettle thought. As long as one didn’t gaze directly into
Jazz’s resolute blue eyes, the cut at first glance gave her a
deceptive appearance of fragility. On the second glance you
realised it gave her a dangerous edge.

“
Looks good,” complimented Nettle. “It really does suit you.”
And she meant it.

Jazz ran her
fingers through her hair. She nodded toward Barber Tuttlebee who
was talking to Claudine, passing her an envelope. “Who’d of thought
he had it in him to be this stylish. And I didn’t even have to pay,
Claudine had already arranged it all.”

That was nice of her,
Nettle smiled to herself. Kind, considerate,
thoughtful, Claudine’s virtues seemed endless. But it was time to
go. The near encounter with the sword-wielding man was still fresh
in her mind and the earthquake had severely rattled her nerves,
never mind that arrogant boy. “It's time we went home.”

Jazz flexed a
menu. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve eaten. I’m starving.”

Nettle
suppressed a groan of exasperation. “Jazz it’s going to be ages
before the tea house is ready to take orders.”

Jazz scanned the room, and turned a
could-you-really-be-that-much-of-an-idiot
look on Nettle.
“Looks ready to me.”

Nettle’s
bottom lip twitched with annoyance. Despite how much she really
wanted Jazz to be wrong, she was right. The tea house had been
restored in record time. The wait-staff twirled around providing
small plates of free scones and cupcakes and mugs of dandelion tea
to the remaining patrons, and while the hum of conversation had
returned to the dining room, it was still a little
nervous.

“
Yeah, I’m pretty hungry too,” added Bram.

Nettle
frowned. “You’ve been eating all morning.”

He gave
a puppy-dog pout. “But I’m not full.”

Nettle
persisted. “We really should go.”

But neither
Bram or Jazz were having it. They both bluntly ignored her.
Nettle’s brow creased into an even deeper frown, but what could she
do. Both Jazz and Bram had one quality in common, both were
pig-headedly stubborn. Nettle reluctantly relinquished her resolve
to go home.

Bram looked up
from his menu. “So did you give whoever you were after a good
telling off?”

Jazz huffed a
laugh. “What? Little Miss Nettle got uppity with someone?”

Nettle pulled
a face. “If you must know, it didn’t quite go as I’d planned.” In
fact she thought sourly, this latest encounter with the rude boy
left her looking more of an idiot than the first occasion.

Jazz sucked in one side of her mouth stifling her mirth but
it was enough of a gesture to rile Nettle. She glowered, lowering
her gaze to the wooden table. Leaning an elbow on the table she
balanced her chin on her knuckles and began to trace the wood’s
grain with a fingernail. Her gaze turned pensive.
What was going on
up at that cave?
Whatever that man was up to, it didn’t seem right. He
shouldn’t just let his dog confront someone without provocation.
She glanced about and saw no one from the village was at any of the
nearby tables. She smiled thinly, she didn’t want to be caught
talking about somewhere she clearly shouldn’t have been. She leaned
forward whispering, “There’s something really strange going on up
top of the hill.”

Bram’s
interest was piqued. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Really, what?” He was eager to hear Nettle’s tale. Jazz just gave
her a disinterested roll of the eyes and went back to reading the
menu.

“There’s this
cav-“

“
What are we whispering about?” Claudine asked. She had leaned
between the siblings, her sapphire eyes sparkling with
curiosity.

Both Bram and
Nettle jerked back, startled. Nettle’s heart near exploded and she
felt as if she’d almost burst out of her skin with fright. Claudine
had approached without warning. She had a tray loaded with silver
goblets and she placed one in front of each of the children, the
intoxicating liquid smelt of star-anise.

Nettle’s scattered nerves eased and she almost laughed out
loud at her foolishness. She shook her head,
Jazz is right,
what an
idiot
, she
thought of herself and smiled at the older woman who was looking at
her with concern. If anyone would know about the cave, Claudine
would, and surely she wouldn’t judge her for being inquisitive. “I
was wondering what is going on at the top of this hill?”

Claudine
flashed Nettle a look of surprise, knowing instantly what she
referred to. “I didn’t realize you’d been up there.” Her eyes
narrowed and tone shifted as if she were displeased. “I thought the
area was shut off from the public.”

Nettle had an awful sinking feeling. “Yes… you’re right…”
she answered a little tentatively, wondering how much trouble she
could be in.
Those trespasser signs didn’t exactly look friendly, and
neither does Claudine.

“
Did you sneak in?” Bram had a look of awe. He smiled proudly
at Claudine. “Nettle’s pretty good at skulking about.”

“
I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as that,” Nettle replied
shooting a covert glare at Bram to pipe down.

“
Breaking and entering sounds more like you.” Jazz said dryly
without even glancing up from her menu.

Claudine cast a suspicious look at Nettle that left her
feeling cold.
Now she thinks I’m a sneaky thief,
she despaired. That wasn’t good,
especially for her father. She gnawed at her bottom lip, fretfully.
“I didn’t break in,” she protested, anxious that Claudine now
seemed distrustful of her character. There was no way she wanted
Claudine to think less of her, so she decided to
not exactly
tell the whole
truth. She crossed her fingers beneath the table. “When I came upon
the signs I didn’t go any further, because that would be
wrong
,” giving her brother an obvious glare before turning back
to Claudine. She gave the eldest Balfrey an apologetic half-smile.
“But I did leave the picnic area. I was just curious, is
all.”

Claudine
contemplated Nettle with a cool look. Nettle nervously fiddled with
the zip on her jacket awaiting Claudine’s verdict. Soon enough the
elder Balfrey’s expression warmed, and Nettle mentally sighed with
relief. Claudine slipped into the seat across from Nettle. Her
voluminous skirt had to be pressed down so she could slide her legs
under the table and the buckles on her shoes clinked as she crossed
her ankles in a ladylike pose. She leaned forward with a
conspiratorial air. “You’re right, there is something going on at
the top of the hill.” Relief mixed with a thrill of gratitude ran
through Nettle, Claudine obviously trusted her to indulge them with
the truth. “When we were planning out our idea of creating Olde
Town Tours, the initial survey reports discovered something rather
special about this hill…”

Bram grinned,
as did Nettle. Even Jazz who preferred to spend her time in
perpetual boredom, seemed curious. Bram’s imagination sparked.
“Gold? Diamonds? Silver?”

Claudine’s laugh tinkled merrily. “Oh, nothing quite like
that.” She cast a wary glance over her shoulder before continuing,
her voice dropping to a low whisper. “We found a unique mineral
that made our youth essences and elixirs rather special, and a lot
more potent than the usual brands out on the market today.” While
she talked, she emphasised each point with the tap of a pale pink
fingernail on the wooden table.

Bram
rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So, this mineral, are you mining for
it?”

Nettle sharply glanced at Bram,
of course, that’s why that man was
outside the cave.
She turned back to Claudine. “
You’re
mining the hill?” She hadn’t considered
that Claudine was part of the operation. But she supposed it made
sense with the Balfrey’s overseeing everything to do with Olde
Town.

Claudine
nodded, her strawberry-blond hair glinting in the sunlight
reflected from the orbs above.

Nettle’s
brows drew together, she couldn’t let go of the feeling that there
was something more to this mining company. “You don’t think the
mining might have something to do with the earthquakes?”

Claudine
was taken aback and blinked blankly several times, before she shook
her head like she was shaking a dust-feather at a cobwebbed corner.
Her gaze turned inward as she pressed a hand to her bow-like lips
to consider the prospect. “No. I shouldn’t think so.” Her brow
crinkled, a little concerned, as she met Nettle’s gaze with her
own. “I’m quite reluctant to say we’re even mining.” She then swept
her gaze around the table, meeting Jazz’s before resting on Bram’s.
“It’s a rather shallow dig in a cave we discovered near the summit
of the hill. It’s a small operation, certainly nowhere near the
magnitude of a corporate mining company. Just a few
employees.”

With swords
, thought Nettle to herself. Claudine glanced at her so
abruptly it was as if she’d heard her thoughts. The older woman
continued, appealing to Bram and Jazz, “We can’t afford any of our
guests to inadvertently wander into the area and get hurt, so we’ve
posted a guard at the mouth of the cave to prevent any accidents.”
Claudine then looked directly at Nettle with a such a piercing
stare Nettle felt horribly ashamed, as if the other woman realised
she’d been lying. She swallowed nervously. She had such a terrible
urge to squirm uncomfortably it took all her willpower to refrain.
Her heart-beat drummed erratically and her jaw began to tense like
it did when she was telling a fib. She smoothed her expression,
desperate to keep up the appearance of innocence. Claudine held her
gaze, pursing her lips together and considered Nettle with an
austere look. “Dresden can be a little zealous in his
duties.”

She knows,
Nettle thought in despair. She uncrossed her fingers
beneath the table and bunched them into a tight fist so that they
dug into the soft flesh of her palms.
Calm down,
she told herself,
pull yourself together!
But it was too
late, she felt a hot flush creeping up her neck. Just before the
guilt gave herself away, a voice interrupted them, loud and
ecstatic. “This has to be Jasmine!”