Artemis’ face darkened. She looked like a bad storm brewing. Her voice became flat and emotionless when she spoke but I caught a little tremble in her hand.

“Who would do a thing like that, Nick?” she said.

“I’d like to know.” I looked at her taut, muscular frame and wished for a moment that I could tell her. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to see someone pulled apart like a pack of brown ’n serve rolls. Fortunately for the perpetrator, I hadn’t a clue at the moment.

I laid my hand gently on Artie’s sinewy paw and said, “Let me ask you a question, Artemis. Why would anyone do a thing like that? If it was a set up, then it was done for a reason. So, who do you think would have something to gain by staging that little gore-fest in the park?”

I could feel the tension leave her hand as she gave herself over to considering the question. She pondered briefly and then finally shook her head with conviction. “I can’t think of anyone offhand.” She declared.

“How about someone who has a beef with “The District?” I offered.

“Nope.” She replied firmly. “The Moon District hasn’t seen any of that kind of trouble in years.”

“Not even from the fundies?” I prodded further.

“I Don’t think so.” She offered thoughtfully. She stroked her chin as she spoke. “It just doesn’t seem like their style.” That was my take as well, but I asked the question all the same hoping to shake something loose that I might be missing.

Then I remembered the stuff I was carrying from the park. I dragged out the potato goddess and set it on the bar. Artie smiled when she saw it. She picked it up gingerly and said, “Geez, Nick. I haven’t seen one of these in years. When I first started with the Craft, we used to make ‘em for the full moons. I’d almost forgotten. Where did you get it?”

“I found it in the park under some witch hazel.” I replied.

“How appropriate.” Artie replied, chuckling. I was glad to see her loosening up a little.

“So,” I pursued, nodding toward the effigy, “you got any idea who might be using one of these at the park?”

Artie, looked thoughtful for a moment then said, “It could have been lots of folks. There are a couple of ours who live in the neighborhood bordering the park. I wouldn’t put it past any of them. Truth is,” she added sheepishly, “I’ve burned a few candles in that park myself — but not in the last eight months.” Artie handed the potato goddess back to me which I gracefully fumbled and dropped against the corner of the bar.

“Shit.” I muttered. “Goodfellow will have my hide if I damage this evidence.” When I picked up the tuberous lady, there was a small spot where her skin was scored revealing a remarkably yellow flesh underneath. “That’s odd,” I said staring at the potato.

Artemis took another look and said, “What’s odd?”

I gestured to the fresh wound and said, “I thought potatoes were usually white on the inside.”

Artie smiled smugly and said, “You should get out more, Nick. There’s a vegetable stand over by the pavilion that’s been selling these. They’re strictly a seasonal thing, and they’ve been around the last few weeks. I think they’re supposed to be a little sweeter.” I made a mental note to check out the stand later. I had a sudden taste for some potatoes.

I was reaching to show Artie the matchbook when the phone rang. She moved down to the end of the bar and grabbed it. With nothing else to do, I decided to see what was going on in the rest of the bar. I looked the place over slowly. It was the usual crowd spread out in small intimate clusters.

As often happened, my eyes were drawn to a huge mural titled “Wilde Jagd” — Wild Hunt. It was a favorite painting of mine though perhaps a bit disturbing. It depicted the Wild Hunt of Teutonic legend with Diana at the lead of a bizarre procession of dark huntsmen, revelers, shapeshifters, and other creatures difficult to describe. Running ahead of them were the quarry: stags, boars and not a few haunted looking men and women. Several revelers even appeared to be gnawing human arms and legs. Diana sat astride a great boar and held aloft a wicked looking spear. On her head was the three moon crown and from her eyes was reflected the eerie light of the full moon. She was the embodiment of the goddess of the hunt as well as a dark mistress of the underworld and fertility. She looked powerful and seductive, though not the aspect of the Lady that I would hope to meet on a dark and deserted path. Even so, this painting was based on the false medieval attitudes about witches, hence the themes of ritual cannibalism, carnal pleasures and a strong suggestion of the other-worldly. Artie always did like things a little on the dark side.

In the midst of my reveries, the front door opened and in sauntered a guy who was obviously lost. He had a look that cried out for a polyester leisure suit. I would have bet money that he had one somewhere. He scanned the bar appreciatively. He was looking for a pick up. He was also probably seconds from being tied up and thrown into the back of one. Before he had a chance to get a good look around, he was joined by two attractive leather clad maidens who directed him to the bar and signed for Artie to pour him a little something. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going down, but I knew it wouldn’t be pretty. I’d thought about trying to warn the guy, but I was perversely fascinated by the little drama of life and death that was beginning to play out in front of me.

The ladies were leaning all over the guy and giggling like bubble gum city and he was obviously thinking that he was sliced bread. Finally one of the women said to the other, “You know, this guy would make a perfect Corn Lord.”

The other woman said, “Oooooo. . he sure would. God, he’d be perfect.”

I shook my head. Now I knew where this was going. The women continued their discussion until they had their boy panting for the job. Finally he said, “Hey look, I’d love to be your Corn Lord. What do I have to do?” The women both seemed genuinely ecstatic and each started begging to be the one to teach him the role. After much arguing, he offered, “What say you both teach me. There’s plenty of me to go around.”

The ladies seemed to be right on schedule and they said to him as they led Leisure Suit Larry toward a side door, “Let’s go downstairs, where we can have some privacy.” With that they disappeared. After about forty-five seconds, as if by some prearranged signal, about half of the other patrons got up and followed them down stairs.

I shook my head. The poor bastard. Once they got the handcuffs on him, he’d find out that his world was a far different place than he’d originally imagined. When I turned around, Artie was back. I nodded toward the side door where the entourage had led their sacrificial goat. “Did you see?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Artie said with a sigh.

“Do you think they’ll….”

“Kill him?” Artie finished for me. “No. Probably not. I expect he won’t be sitting for a while, though.”

“I bet that’s right.” I replied. We both looked at each other and then burst into hysterics. I think the tension of the business in the park had gotten to me. After I finally stopped laughing, I mopped my eyes. What a hoot. “Oh,” I said, “while I’m thinking about it, I wanted you to take a look at this, too.” I reached into my pocket and produced the matchbook I’d found in the dirt by the rock altar in the park. Artie eyed the cover and then looked at the number. She handed the matches back to me and shook her head. No cigar. Well, it was worth a try.

I got the names and addresses of several of the pagans living on the park’s edge from Artemis and then I thanked her and said I had to hit the road. She reached across the bar and grabbed my hand affectionately. I knew from experience the feeling would eventually come back into it. “Nick.” she said. “Let me know when you get a lead on this mess. I want to know that you’re gonna get the bastards that are responsible.”

“I’ll keep you posted, Artie. I want ’em, too.”

“And one more thing, Nick,” she added, “If you need anything or want some help, you call me, hear?”

I smiled warmly. “That means a lot to me Artemis.” I said. “You got yourself a deal.” She gave my hand one last affectionate squeeze and let me go. I felt lucky that there hadn’t been any cracking sounds. Lady, what a grip.

As I left the Hunt, I looked at the time. It was nearly two in the morning. No wonder I was tired and hungry. If I hurried, I could still make the transit back to my neck of the woods. As I rounded the corner, toward the nearest station, I heard a scream coming from the alley behind the bar followed by someone yelling, “Hey wait; come back. We were getting to the best part.”

At that moment, bursting from the alley entrance came the poor fool I’d seen at the Hunt. He was making pretty good time, too. It’s amazing what long strides you can take when you’re naked from the waist down. Four women emerged on the street shortly after he disappeared down another side street. One of them had a wicked looking whip in her hand. They all muttered obscenities and seemed pretty steamed. Some days, the mouse gets away.

I decided to scoot by Cho’s on my way to catch the tram and picked up a sack of egg rolls. I chatted with the proprietor while he dished up my order. He wasn’t able to shed any light on the business at the park and was clearly uninterested. He was there just to make a living. Lucky for him, he makes damn good egg rolls — and a kung pao chicken to die for. If you do go for the chicken, get the large drink. Trust me on this one.

By the time I arrived at the station, the egg rolls were cool enough to eat and my tram was just pulling in. I paid and got settled in for the ride. When we started moving, I was the only one in the car. So I stretched out on my seat and started munching. I don’t know what Cho put in those things, but they were great. As I chewed the succulent morsels, I ran through the evidence I had so far and confirmed my sense that there were too many pieces missing to even hazard a guess.

Before long, my thoughts drifted back to Earthsong. I wanted to check on her fairly soon. It hadn’t been twenty-four hours since we parted company and I was already missing her. I smiled to myself but shook my head all the same. I couldn’t afford to be infatuated at the moment. Besides, I didn’t have a good lead on her case. Frustrated, I put my head back and pushed my black felt hat up over my face. Since nothing else could be done, I thought to get a running start on forty winks. The swaying of the tram and the rhythmic thumping of the tracks sent me off in a heartbeat.

When I opened my eyes, I was in a forest clearing. The moon was full overhead and there was a pool a few yards away. The frogs and crickets were in good voice. The clearing seemed to be surrounded mostly by oaks and conifers and as I made my survey, an owl drifted silently across the misty periphery in the distance ahead. Goddess, it was The Dream. I was having The Dream again.

My heart quickened at the realization and, at the same moment, to the right of me there was a sudden rustling in the trees. From an opening in the forest’s bramble emerged the Bright Lady astride a huge white stag. The stag moved regally and stopped not far from the clearing’s edge. I could see sprigs of holly woven through his antlers and steam swirled from his dark nostrils. The Lady seemed to shimmer, girded in a diaphanous cloth shift. I was struck by her presence and her beauty. After a moment, a soft breeze wafted from her direction and the scent of the nearby firs caught my nose with a hint of something else I couldn’t place. A wave of desire filled me then; an urgency to be joined with this glorious presence before me. She smiled with an unspoken understanding and slid gracefully from the back of the stag. She approached me boldly and I could see her physical splendor beneath the transparent cloth. As our eyes met and locked together, she raised her cupped hands and held them toward me saying, “Nick, this is for you. Your search for knowledge has been to this place and time. The secrets of the world are yours if you will only take them.” A verdant light began suffusing from her cupped hands and shakily I raised my own to receive the gift. I tried to speak but couldn’t. Before I could touch her, she hesitated moving toward me and asked in an odd tone, “Will you take them? They’re yours, aren’t they? You should really take them.”

The stag had walked over beside us at this point and was now thumping me on the arm with his nose. He finally whacked me a good one and I said rather heatedly, “Hey watch it with the nose, fella.” Just then my hat rolled off onto the floor of the tram and my eyes opened with a start. There was the conductor standing over me. He had my sack of half-eaten egg rolls hanging from his hand and he said, “These are yours, aren’t they? You should really take them and move along. We’re at your stop and I have a schedule to keep.”

Irrationally, I snatched up my hat and grumped rather shamefully at the conductor. He started backing away with that rabbit eyed look that most people get when they realize that they’ve just annoyed a sleeping psycho. “Would it have killed you to let me sleep for five more lousy seconds?” I barked. “She was finally gonna give it to me and you screwed it up. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?” I could tell that he didn’t by the way he tossed my egg rolls at me and lunged out the cab door only to run screaming into the night. Damn. I pulled myself together and hit the trail. There’d be other dreams. In the meantime, there were probably guys with nets heading my way.

When I stumbled into my place, there were no calls on the answering machine. That was good news, at least. I hung my hat on the horn and sat back in my favorite chair. It had been a long day. Wearily, I grabbed a bottle of honeyfyre and poured myself a nip. I looked over at the Horned One. He looked a little thirsty. I grabbed the bottle and was heading his direction when the phone rang. Great Mother! I checked the clock and it was 3:22 AM. Who’d be calling at this hour? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed the receiver. “Lodestone Detective Agency. You got Nick.”

“Nick. It’s about time you got home. I’ve been trying to call you all night.” I felt my knees get weak. It was the voice.

“Earthsong.” I said. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

I could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “I’ve been thinking about you, too, but that’s not why I called. This is business. There’s another cat missing in the neighborhood.”

“Could be a break.” I replied. “Let me change and I’ll head on over.”

“Nothing doing, Nick. You sound like hell. Get some sleep and I’ll give you a wake up call tomorrow at around noon. I want you well rested — for the investigation, of course.”

“Count on it, doll.” I replied.

TO BE CONTINUED