The Wendigo Inn

The theme from "COPS" runs through my head as Inspector Kryptosia faces me across the conference table. Daji is present, and Mr. Mithra somehow managed to slip through the lockdown and park himself right by my side. He wears a three-piece suit and one of those Sumerian thick long sculpted beards from paintings and tablets and wall carvings. Oh, and he has mutton chops on the side.

"You CANNOT question my client without me present," Mr. Mithra says, drinking jasmine tea. He must live on the stuff.

Inspector Kryptosia shakes her head. "His grandparents never had these problems."

"He didn't even know what he inherited until a few days ago," Mr. Mithra argued. "We all just assumed, which is terrible. There was no proviso in his grandparents' will about telling him should they pass, because they believed they would be the ones to turn over ownership and management of the property."

Folding her wraithlike arms, Inspector Kryptosia says coldly, "Mr. Thomas—"

"You will not address my client directly," Mr. Mithra snaps.

"Listen, Mothra—"

He rolls his eyes. "Wrong myth. You will not talk to my client directly unless I allow it."

His tone says: Not a chance in Hades.

Inspector Kryptosia is eerily calm. "Then how can I question him?"

"Through me. Take it or leave it. And remember all the cooperation my firm has given to the Mythical Cops over the centuries. That whole business with the Hanging Gardens? You think King Nebuchadnezzar wanted to be questioned like a common criminal? You were lucky to even get access."

King Nebuchadnezzar himself?

Oh, right. Mithra is a Babylonian deity.

The inspector directs her question to Mr. Mithra. "How is it that your client didn't notice such significant thefts?"

"Asked and answered," Mr. Mithra says. "He just acquired the inn. He's had his hands full. The culprits, who are getting further away as we speak, took advantage of his obvious overwhelm. It was our error of omission not to tell him."

"Mr. Mithra, I should—"

He shakes his head, and his piles of hair don't move. "He's not at fault, Inspector."

"He's the boss," argues Inspector Ghostly.

Mr. Mithra quoted from a magical lawbook. "'If the owner of a resort for gods is ignorant of the magical abilities of staff and guests, this limits the proprietor's liability in the event that such thefts occurred. Ignorance of the law or material facts leading to liability does not eliminate the owner's responsibility to provide a safe and secure work environment and take reasonable measures to prevent theft. However, lack of knowledge about the magical nature of the staff's abilities could be a mitigating factor in any legal proceedings.'"

Inspector Kryptosia doesn't even blink. I doubt she knows how.

"So, you admit he bears some responsibility," she says.

"Only insofar as being too trusting," Mithra replies.

Great, now I'm a chump. I guess that's better than being a secret mastermind.

Mithra continues. "He doesn't know that fauns are generally not to be trusted."

I shake my head. "Joc is OK. He's usually the shift boss. He's honest and hardworking. And, clearly, my grandparents trusted the fauns. No one ever called them fools, as I think the inspector here would attest."

Inspector Kryptosia thaws. "They were good, for humans," she says.

I turn on the sad grandchild face. "I really miss them. I want to live up to the astronomically high bar they set, as an innkeeper and a person. I'll cooperate with your investigation fully."

Mithra looks like he wants to smash a cuneiform clay tablet over my skull. "No talking," he hisses. "Or I'm ending this meeting now."

Daji glares at him. "YOU work for US, not the other way around."

"Uh, he did give the world a lot in terms of law," I mutter. "Right up there with the Ten Commandments, Roman law, and Greek law."

Mithra strokes his beard and smiles charmingly at the inspector. "So, is he ruled out as a suspect? He obviously doesn't have the guile to be a crime boss."

Inspector Kryptosia leans in, and it's as if someone opened the freezer door, letting out a cold blast of air. "I never really suspected him. He doesn't even charge guests late fees for missing their checkout times. I've had my eye on Mr. Sunmut for a while. But I can't let him know. I need Mr. Thomas here for a delicate sting operation. And Daji can be involved, too."

Smugly, Daji says, "As if you could stop me." Her tails have disappeared, but her fox ears still perk forward. "What is this sting operation?"

The inspector hums, thinking. "You mentioned the Temple of the Sun. You could follow the fauns there. Pretend you're escaping justice."

Daji smirks. "Van could pretend to be a bad boy for the first time in his life."

I raise my fist in the air. "If it helps the inn, I'll do it. These thieving fauns can't get away with robbing us blind. My grandparents were always kind to them."

I whip out the Disc of Horus and activate it. "Show me the fauns."

Daji's mouth drops open. "That's a handy artifact."

"Rokaci delivered the goods," I say with a smile, staring at the orb set in the center of the disc. It shimmers and shows a faun, concealing something in his grubby little hands. He's headed to the side door of the hotel.

Five minutes later, I stuff the disc in my pocket, throw open the conference room door, and bellow, "This is outrageous! I demand my rights! I'm getting out of here!"

Inspector Kryptosia shouts, "Come back here, both of you!"

Racing to the side door, I hear and smell Daji behind me. My heart pumps overtime like a machine on overdrive. I run at warp speed out the door, following the faun. As he vanishes, I grab onto his little horns. Daji throws her arms around my waist.

A dizzying sensation, and then we're someplace different. I'm standing on hard stone, facing a shining golden temple with ornate glazed doors through which sunlight streams. A large golden dome tops the temple. Deep golden light streams through the windows. Humming comes from inside the temple, and I can feel heat bathing Daji and me.

The faun we were pursuing looks up at me with a calm expression. He's an olive-skinned creature with a goatee. "What now, boss? Have you decided you want to share in the loot? The Sunshine Children can help you. We can make you rich … especially in spirit."

I offer a brave smile. "Rich? You mean, I can be wealthy and not have to bust my tail? Sign me up! What do we do?"