“My god, she’s dead!” Cried the ogre.

Gigi turned to the distressed ogre with a sigh. The goblin’s ears twitched in irritation. She felt far too drunk to deal with this. Perhaps if the woman had died after the second ale, but after the seventh, she wanted to eat her salad and pass out next to her companion. Her date and roommate, Drake, the human, sat across the table and watched the scene with rapt attention.

Gigi eyed the ogre. His petty coat was ruffled from panic. She thought he had introduced himself as Francis. Either way, she was confident he had said he was the Everfrost Inn’s steward. That meant that his boss, the widow Evaline Dallaroux, had just been found dead.

Drake leaned in and whispered.

“Who do you think did it?”

His short blonde hair caught the low torchlight of the tavern. His blue eyes met her brown ones with curiosity.

“Maybe s-h-h-he fell,” Gigi offered.

“MY WORD HER THROAT HAS BEEN CUT!” Francis bawled. The massive man reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He blew his nose into it and then put up his hands. “Okay, nobody moves a muscle. We are going to figure out who killed my fine Mistress right here, right now,” the Ogre commanded with a quavering voice.

“You can’t keep us here!” Shouted a table of pig-kin.

Drake stood up from the table. He nervously scratched his tattooed neck with his equally ink-covered hand.

“I think we should listen to him. Someone did just get murdered.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Francis stated.

The ogre straightened his vest and then his spine. He looked around the room; a couple dozen eyes stared back at him. Gigi looked at the crowd as the inn’s guests looked at Francis. She saw a lot of fearful and angry eyes out there. She slowly turned to Drake. A steeliness she recognized was there. She leaned back and let out an exhausted sigh. She guessed they were going to solve the mystery after all.

“Ok-k-kay d-d-detective D-Drake, who d-did it?” She slurred.

Before he could answer, a fat black cat jumped onto their table. Both of them shouted out in surprise. The cat waddled to Drake’s plate and sniffed the cheese it found there. Before Drake could opine on who he thought the culprit was, Francis interjected.

“I think it would be best for us to call the authorities and start explaining ourselves until they arrive.”

“You must be new; this is Poppy; WE are the authorities,” said a group of dwarven soldiers. They stood and backed away from the table and toward the ogre.

“Oh no you’re not,” said an old crone by the bar. She sipped on her ale and then spoke again. “We should get the Witch. She'll know what to do,” she wheezed.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“Shut up you!” A particularly inebriated dwarf shot back.

Drake looked around at the building tension and took it in thoughtfully. Gigi looked up at him from her seat, trying her best to not fall asleep.

“I have an idea,” he said finally.

Gigi perked up. An idea from Drake that wasn’t an art project for them was a rarity.

“Who asked you, boy?” Spat a dwarf.

Drake looked around as if he hadn’t heard.

“I think I can figure out who did this. In fact, I think I know now, but it will sound less . . . crazy.”

Everybody went silent; the cat stopped eating the cheese.

“You think you know?” asked Francis incredulously.

Drake nodded.

“But if you could turn the lights off one more time, I think I’ll know for sure.”

“You want what!?”

“Trust me, I have, let’s call it . . . a special gift for the darkness.”

“You’re a looney, which is what you are,” said a pig-kin.

Drake shrugged.

“I promise you’ll be safe.”

The crowd looked around at each other. Gigi looked from Drake to the Crowd. She had no idea what was going on right now, but it seemed like maybe her date was onto something. After another uneasy moment, the group relented and blew out the torches.

Drake was a man of shadow, the tattoos that marks his body sealed his pact with a lord beyond the veil of this world. Gigi had seen him make the darkness move like it were alive, making it so that you could feel and touch it. She had seen him literally take the light from a man’s eyes. She didn’t understand it entirely, but he could do amazing things.

Being a goblin, she could actually see in the dark. Had she not been looking at the bottom of her glass, she might be in bed by now, she bemoaned. She brought her gaze to Drake. His eyes were closed. He looked as if he were concentrating very hard on something. Then his eyes snapped open.

“Found it!” He exclaimed.

People began to light the torches once more. As the lights came on, the crowd was horrified to see a long black arm reaching across the room and back into the bowels of the inn. The arm began to snap back to its owner, Drake. Clutching a bloody knife.

The ogre stepped forward.

“Where did you find this?”

“Under the cat’s bed.”

Francis looked stupefied.

“Who could have done it? You said you knew?!”

“The cat did it.”

“Kevin!? You can’t be serious.”

“When we got here, I sensed 34 shadows in this room. After, the murder, it was 32.”

“S-s-some one e-e-scaped!” Gigi exclaimed.

Drake shook his head.

“That’s what I thought at first. But finding the knife under the cat bed proved it.”

Drake stalked over to the black cat on the table. It cowered before hissing and trying to dart away. Gigi snapped it up with reflexes she was surprised she still had. She held the animal aloft as it clawed the air wildly. With enthusiasm, Drake seized the flailing paw. He brought his face closer and inspected it.

“Blood.”

“B-b-but how?” Gigi asked. Looking at the cat in her hands in bewilderment. Drake shrugged.

“That’s a question for the witch.”

“Nyyo-o-o-o-o,” the cat yowled.

It began to grow and transform. Gigi dropped it in shock and fell backward in her chair. Drake caught her with his free hand and set her back down before they sat a naked, sniveling man.

“Not the witch! I’ll confess!” blubbered the man.

“Talk,” Gigi commanded.

“Eva, she was my wife, but then she poisoned me, left me for dead. I learned a bit of magic to get back at her.”

“ "S-so y-you murdered h-h-er back?” asked Gigi.

“Wouldn’t you?”

Gigi looked at Drake, and he looked at her. They both laughed.

“You’re going to the dungeon, Kevin,” Drake said. “You have a dungeon right Francis?”

“Oh yes, a very dank one at that.”

“Perfect.”

Gigi pressed her face into Drake’s chest as he carried her home. She thought it actually hadn’t been a bad date.