It was a couple of hours after sunset when Lord Mephisterion arrived as arranged. He drew up outside the shop in an immense, ostentatious black carriage drawn by… what were they? Cal and Max heard the scrape of the carriage wheels on the stones as it drew to a halt, and they both went to the door to look.

“Those are weird horses,” Max said.

“Not horses,” Cal answered. “Look, they’ve got wings!”

Cal pulled the door open and they both went outside to take a closer look. The carriage was drawn by two giant bats, only a little smaller than full sized carriage horses. The monstrous creatures had heavy leathery wings which were now folded by their sides, and Cal saw that both bats were done up in black leather harness tack designed so the bats could spread out from each other, giving each other room for their huge wings to work.

The bats were covered in thick glossy black hair that gleamed in the light of the spirit lamps, and their cunning, intelligent faces looked at Cal and at Max with interest as the two friends stood gazing at them. One of the bats licked its lips with a long, red tongue and showed sharp teeth when Max came a bit too close. Max stepped hurriedly back.

“Easy, Casgor,” the voice of Mephisterion said with a note of amusement. “That’s Max. He’s not for eating.”

The bat shut its mouth and glared at Max. The carriage door had opened silently and the tall, imposing figure of the vampire lord stepped into the street. Cal looked at Mephisterion and felt a sudden strange sensation. There was something odd about Mephisterion that he hadn’t noticed before. He couldn’t place it for a moment, but then he realized what it was.

The buttery yellow glow of the spirit lamps illuminated Mephisterion, glinting on his robes the color of a starless night and his skin the color of bleached bone, but the lord himself cast no shadow on the ground. The effect made Mephisterion seem like he was floating, somehow immaterial, though in truth Cal knew that the vampire lord and owner of the biggest coffee shop chain in Jutlyn city was as solid and material as himself or Max.

A vampire, of course, cast no shadow, and in theory Cal knew that, but seeing it in action like this was definitely unsettling. In the shadowy surroundings of the auctioneer’s hall or his own workshop, he’d never noticed, but out here in the light of the lamps it was very obvious.

“Come, my friends,” Mephisterion said, pushing the carriage door shut behind him. “Let’s go inside. It looks cozy in your shop, and though I don’t feel the cold, I know that you humans do.”

Cal ushered the vampire inside, politely holding the door for him. Max followed, casting a last wary glance over his shoulder at the giant bats.

“Thanks for coming, Lord Mephisterion,” Cal said

“My pleasure, my dear enchanter,” Mephisterion replied, flashing Cal a glinting smile. “I’m always happy to visit a friend, and I’ll be glad to see what we can do to resolve the problem of the recalcitrant gardener, the corrupt guild official, and the problematic noblewoman. If we play our cards right, I think we might have a chance to tie up quite a few problems all at once.”

Cal was surprised for a moment that Mephisterion knew so much about it. He’d not told the vampire lord much in his telepathogram, but he figured Mephisterion must have his ways of finding things out. You didn’t get to be one of the most successful citizens of Jutlyn without having many sources of information.

They got inside and shut the door, and soon they were all seated in the workshop around the crackling fire. Max had made tea, as usual, and Mephisterion had his ever-present blood flask, which Cal warmed in a little hot water as before.

Cal made a mental note. Once he had some more fire cores, he’d offer Mephisterion to enchant the blood flask so that the contents would stay warm. He wanted to wait until he had the enchanted eyeglass back, though. The vampire lord’s blood flask was an item that would likely have some other magical properties, and Cal would need to approach the project with care to be sure he could do a good job. He’d wait until Laria and the hunters were back from their mission before offering to perform this small service for Mephosterion, as a thank you for sorting out the current challenge.

“The story of the gardener is simple,” Mephisterion said once they were all seated with their drinks. He was all business, speaking quickly and simply, and Cal could see the efficiency and pragmatism coming through that had led the vampire lord to such success “The gardener’s name is Randall, and he’s a human who trained at the Guild of Growers from an early age. He’s also a friend of mine. He’s very good at his job, and he’s proud of his skill. The noblewoman who, I understand, came here to berate you for ‘enchanting’ him away from her employment is a certain Lady Aurenia Hefton. She’s married to Lord Armadale Hefton of Yarrow Falls. They have an estate near Barwell in Eastmount, over the river, and a townhouse about a mile from my place in Castleview.”

The passing mention of Barwell made Max sit up slightly, and Cal saw his friend glance between him and Mephisterion. The vampire, however, made no sign that he knew of any connection between Max and the Barwell estate. The mention, Cal thought, was just coincidental.

“Randall worked for Lord and Lady Hefton for about a year, as the head gardener of a small team,” Mephisterion continued briskly. “He worked at the townhouse, rather than the estate. The pay was good, and the previous head gardener had retired after long service. However, Randall found Lord and Lady Hefton to be unpleasant and unreasonable employers. Lady Aurenia Hefton has a reputation for being overbearing in her manner toward the household staff, and her husband Lord Armadale Hefton is a miser, suspicious of his employees and always seeking to interfere in areas where he has no expertise. Randall clashed with Lord Hefton repeatedly on the matter of the appropriate feed for roses, but the final straw for Randall came when Lady Hefton objected to Randall’s wearing of a warming charm.”

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“Yes,” Mephisterion said in answer to Cal’s look. “It was the very same warming charm that Randall bought from your shop during your opening on Blue Gods Day. Lady Hefton - like many of the nobility - makes a great show of disapproving of magic, but unlike most other nobles she actually follows through on it and refuses to employ any magic users on her staff. This suits her miserly husband, because he thinks it lowers the bill for the servants. When Randall injudiciously let the Lady of the manor discover that he was wearing a warming charm, she demanded he take it off and throw it away. He refused, citing the deep cold outside. She became angry, and he responded in kind. You can imagine the scene.”

Cal certainly could imagine. His brief experience of Lady Hefton, her temper, and her deadly glare told him that there was no way she’d take kindly to a mere gardener talking back to her.

“So, he walked out?” Cal asked.

“That’s about the size of it,” Mephisterion said. “And he came to me. The thing is, Randall and I have a history. We go way back, something that Lady Hefton didn’t know. A few years ago - quite a few years ago, now I think about it - I used some of my profits from various successful business ventures to set up a scholarship fund that would allow talented young people without financial means to study qualifications at the guilds. The fund had a limited amount of money available, but it ran for a few years and helped quite a lot of talented and deserving young people. Randall was one of the last beneficiaries before the fund closed. He and I met at the graduation ceremony, and we got on well. I’m something of an outcast in Jutlyn society, Cal, as you may have guessed. Some find my presence unsettling, and despite the inclusive nature of much of our city’s society, there are still many who distrust me because of my wealth and because of a certain darkness in my tastes and aesthetics. Randall cared nothing for my strange appearance. He was interested, excitable, talented, quick-tempered - many things that I admire in a young protege. We kept in touch.”

Mephisterion paused for a moment, gathered his thoughts, then continued. “Anyway, unlike Randall, Lady Hefton is one of many who have a powerful dislike of me. The nobility are particularly distrustful of me for no other reason than that I’m a vampire and that I have more money and connections than most of them. When Randall walked out on Lady Hefton, he came to me simply as a friend, to vent his frustrations. I offered him a job to keep him going, though I suspect that in time, he’ll find my gardening preferences are even more at odds with his than Lady Hefton’s!”

“Lord Mephisterion,” Cal said. “Thank you for explaining everything to me, but I’m still in the dark about why Lady Hefton came here, blaming me. She said she’d report me to the guild for doing illegal magic and enchanting Randall so that he’d leave and go to you instead. Why me? She must know that she’d never get anywhere with a guild complaint - the idea’s absurd - but she still might be able to cause me trouble. The local guild inspector seems pretty crooked, and - between ourselves - there are a few things I’m experimenting with here that are a bit of a gray area in terms of regulation. I really don’t need trouble from a guild inspector when I’m just starting out, but Lady Hefton asks the impossible. She said she wanted me to get Randall to go back and work for her again. I can’t get Randall to do that, and I wouldn’t want to anyway. He’s his own man, and of all the players in this drama I seem to be the one who’s the least involved of all. Really, it’s none of my business. Why did she come here of all places? And why does she want him back anyway, if he shouted at her and stormed off?”

“To answer your second question,” Mephisterion said, “she wants him back because he’s very, very good at his job. She is regretting her rash decision, no doubt, but she doesn’t want to be seen to climb down. She’s in a bind. She can’t apologize or admit she was wrong, and she can’t come to Doomglade Towers and shout at me, because she’s terrified of my house and of my business manager Janus. So, to answer your first question, she’s looked around and picked the person who’s got the least power in the situation - you. She’s no fool. She knew she could come and bully you a bit to let off steam, but she guessed that if she puts the frighteners on you, you’d come to me. I guess she hopes that my concern for you will cause me to act. As indeed it will, but perhaps not in the way she thinks.”

Mephisterion smiled, and Cal saw the vampire lord’s expression soften. He’d been all business until now, speaking quickly, unsmiling, laying out the facts of the situation without jokes or diversions. He’d been very different from the languid, friendly person he’d been when he’d visited before.

Now, he suddenly mellowed, and the smile that spread across his face was confidential and distinctly mischievous. “I have a feeling, Cal, that I can fix this situation entirely. Lady Hefton will get a new gardener, Randall will be free to take up a new position with a more sympathetic employer once he gets sick of my gardening tastes (I give him a week, not more, before he walks out in despair), and the local guild inspector… Well, if I play my cards right, let’s just say he’ll be more sympathetic to your cause than he has been until now.”

“What will you do?” Max said. He’d listened to the conversation in rapt silence, seeming totally in awe of the vampire lord. He’d hung on Mephisterion’s every word, and had only moved once, to refill the teapot from the boiling kettle.

“I will…” Mephisterion began, and then stopped. “I will do what I will do,” he finished, rising from his chair. “You’ll hear from me.”

“Wha…” said Max.

“But…” said Cal.

Mephisterion held up a long, thin finger in a warding gesture. “I’m not going to tell you anything more,” he declared, his smile full of secrets and his eyes glittering with mischief. “Concentrate on your shop, and leave the rest to me.”

And with that, grinning, chuckling to himself, and rubbing his hands together, he swept out of the Enchanter’s Emporium without another word. The carriage door shut silently behind him, the bats leaped into the air with a high-pitched cry that pierced the still winter night, and Mephisterion’s black carriage was lifted up behind them.

Max and Cal ran to the window and watched in amazement as a dark blue light shimmered around the carriage. They’d both assumed that the bats just dragged the carriage along the ground while they flew in front, but now they saw the whole contraption lift off from the ground and sail up into the night sky, turning sharply and soaring off over the tops of the buildings in the direction of Castleview.

“That was something to see!” Max said breathlessly as they went back inside the shop. “I wonder what he’s going to do? I wonder why he wouldn’t tell us?”

“I think our friend has a taste for the overdramatic,” Cal said dryly, thinking of the gleaming, coal-black carriage soaring off into the night under the power of the terrifying giant bats. “Whatever he does, I think it’s going to work. I have a feeling our best course is to take his advice and concentrate on our work here. Whatever he’s up to, we’ll find out soon enough, and until we do, we’ve plenty to get on with here. To be honest, if I never hear about Lady Hefton and her gardener again, that’ll be just fine with me.”