Category: Fable

Scuttlebutt Detective Agency

“If it’s not our case, it’s not our business,” Catch said.

Pinny narrowed her keen feline eyes. “Who are you? And what have you done with my friend Catchpenny?”

Dear friends they were, as similar as they were different. Catchpenny, an alligator lizard, Pincushion, a shorthaired cat, and Ramekin, a cecropia moth. They had just opened a business that would put their best skills and talents to use: observation, discussion, and conclusion. In other words, investigation. Private investigation.

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No Kings Among Rats

“The waters are rising,” said the god of corners. “Either your king will die. Or you will.”

Her many tails rippled behind her, vanishing first. The rainfall that soaked the rats scurrying about in preparation to save their king did not touch her gleaming black fur, or drip from her long silver whiskers.

Her head vanished last, lips still curled in a curious smile. She had not gone. She was only invisible.

She would stay and watch.

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The Lake of the Nightmare Cat

“So it’s agreed, if we see a cat—any cat—we flee.” The brown rat with the black spot upon her pink nose nodded at her two partners.

The black rat with the long swishing tail nodded his head in return. The rat with fur the color of storm clouds twitched her whiskers.

All three boarded the little ship made of twig and stone, bound by fibers, sealed with resin, and thrice-blessed by their elders.

The ship was named for what its crew desired to be, Invisible.

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Vault of the Fortunate Heir

The canary sang to the high stone wall, as if it were the maiden-bird he’d been courting. She perched nearby, of course, hoping that his golden voice would loosen the locks to a vault full of golden treasure.

One of the most prosperous beasts in the world had died, an heir to a vast and uncounted fortune. News spread that he had a vault that could be opened by a single magical utterance. The utterance was known, but the magic was in how it was uttered. No one knew how it must be done. So all were welcomed to try.

So it was that the beasts of the world made their way to the vault of the fortunate heir.

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River Fisher and Blue Dragon

“Strange,” the many-colored creature said.

It was not the reaction that Halceyx expected. With her beak full—full of the creature—she could not speak. But the creature, who was some kind of water slug, seemed to understand the inquisitive squeak that Halceyx uttered. The creature answered her as if she had spoken.

“Yes, it’s strange that you’re still alive. You have lucked into grasping me in just the right way.”

Halceyx uttered another query in the form of another squeak.

“I possess many different pockets,” the water slug said, “and I keep poisons in them.”

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