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10.2: MISS CAW (part 2)

"Well," began Harriet, "that's not exactly the reason we ask..."

As the story emerged—mostly from Harriet, but with frequent interjections from Rupert—Miss Caw's face became increasingly sympathetic. Rupert and Harriet were thankful to see that they had judged her correctly.

"So when Rupert came back to the manor—"

"To find a cure."

"—to find a cure, which there isn't one—"

"That you know of."

"—that I know of, we decided—"

"You decided."

"Fine. I decided that I would go with him, to find a cure, if there is one."

"Which there must be!"

Miss Caw smiled at Rupert reassuringly. "Ah, I knew there was a case of young love in there somewhere."

"Excuse me?" Rupert wondered if the witch had been listening at all.

Miss Caw giggled. "Don't look so affronted, my boy. I know very well that when two young people run off together, romance is the only explanation."

Rupert tried to keep his frustration in check. He didn't entirely succeed. "How about the fact that I've been forcibly stripped of my powers and want them back?"

"But the little lady didn't have to come along, now did she?" Another of those blush-inducing winks.

"She wanted to!"

"Exactly."

"But—"

Harriet came to his assistance. "I persuaded Rupert to take me with him. I was unhappy with my father. And I knew that the vampires he... dealt with... usually made their way north. So I came along. And, well, we haven't gotten very far yet."

"But the guard at the gate told us that a vampire came through here about a fortnight ago," Rupert said. "I thought that maybe if I find others who have... who have met Harriet's father, then maybe they'll know of a cure. Or, I don't know, maybe we can help each other."

Miss Caw looked thoughtful. "As a matter of fact, I think I met that vampire. A fortnight ago, did Ferring say?"

"You know Ferring?" asked Harriet.

"He was weird," muttered Rupert.

Miss Caw glanced down, avoiding their eyes. "I had dealings with Ferring, a long time ago. Before I left Night."

Harriet gasped. "You're the one who turned him into a human."

Miss Caw started. "How did you know about that?"

"He told us. He said that he ate some of your familiars. Your mice."

Miss Caw scowled. "Too right he did! Poor Ernie. That was the last straw, it really was. I'd only just turned him and all."

"Wait," said Rupert. "Turned him? You mean your mice weren't originally mice?"

"Bless you, of course not," Miss Caw exclaimed. "How could they possibly help me with the washing up if they were just mice? Mice don't know the first thing about washing up."

"Has it occurred to you," said Rupert, trying not to get angry, "that people don't want to be mice?"

Miss Caw bit her lip. "I don't mean any harm. It isn't a bad life. I don't force them to wash up, you know. And they can still talk—a bit squeaky, but still. Though they don't talk to me very much, for some reason."