"First of all, my name is Quantis." said the girl. "I was sitting in the living room back home with my father when there came a knock on the door..."
The fire in the fireplace flickered and sent sparks and shadows unto the hearth. Its crackling was the only sound to be heard in the shop besides the sound of Quantis' voice, relating the strangely ordinary events leading up to her arrival outside of Maggy's Miscellaneous Magic. Maggy Donut and Twiggedo didn't move an eyebrow, visible or otherwise, as they drank in the details of her seemingly ordinary tale.
Quantis Queue lived with her father in an busy, bustling village many miles from Wildwood. Her father was the village tailor. Father and daughter lived alone, as Quantis' mother died in childbirth. From what Quantis said, Maggy Donut could tell that she and her father were very chummy.
"My father was a very good tailor," said Quantis with pride. "All the farmers came to him with their holey sacks, torn cow-collars and even the occasional straw hat. Daddy could fix them up in no time. Sometimes even the village headman would come and have his tablecloths ironed and monogrammed."
Twiggedo swished his tail.
Each morning, Mr Queue and Quantis would breakfast on goat's milk and freshly baked patatta. As soon as their rooster quacked, Quantis would wash their breakfast things while Mr Queue harnessed their pony to the cart. Then, together, father and daughter set off to the schoolhouse, where Mr Queue taught a sack-patching class and Quantis learned her lessons.
In the afternoons, at the sound of the school bell, the Queues let out a silent whoop -almost silmultaneously, though they never knew it- and rode in the pony cart all the way home. Quantis would spend the afternoons doing her homework, cleaning the little hut they lived in, and sometimes helping her dad iron the sacks he mended. Her free time was spent reading in the little hammock her late mother had made in the early years of her marriage.It always seemed to Quantis that she was nearer to her mother there than at any other place...though she had never met her.
My Queue and Quantis would then have a quiet dinner in the evening, telling each other about their days. It was then that the first extraordinary event in this otherwise ordinary tale happened.
Mr Queue was just telling Quantis over a cup of blurgandy tea - "though nothing half as good as your tea, Maggy Donut," - about an extra big hole in Farmer Cocoa's cocoa bean sack when there came a knock on the door.
"I felt the hairs on my neck rise, I can tell you that," said Quantis earnesly, leaning forward in her red armchair, her big grey eyes wide at the memory.
"Just at the sound of the knock?" asked Maggy, raising her inqusitive eyebrows. Unseen to both of them, Twiggedo twitched his ears and snapped at a fly.
"It was such a scary knock," shivered Quantis. "A sort of ominous tap, if you know what I mean,"
"I have heard such some knocks myself," agreed Maggy, old memories resurfacing for the briefest of moments.
"And so there was this ominous tap, then a pause." continued Quantis. "Daddy put down his cup, and got up to answer it. I just sat there to take another sip. As soon as Daddy opened the door, something rushed in with loud thumps and knocked over all the furniture. I had such a shock! I called for Daddy, and he came in looking flustered and mildly annoyed. When he saw the furniture, he reached for his glasses on the table, but..."
Four black paws and a black tail sailed through the air and landed on her lap. A reassuring purr encouraged Quantis to finish her tale.
"...but then Daddy just disappeared," finished Quantis miserably.
"What do you mean, disappeared?" asked Maggy, brandishing her quill with with she had been jotting notes. "Did he become suddenly invisible? Was he dragged out in a blurry motion? Was there any puffy magical smoke?"
"Um..." Quantis tried hard to remember. " I think there was a sort of mist, and I think I heard a faint, very faint tinkling sound...and when I blinked, he was g-gone."
"Hmm." said Maggy. She thoughtfully tapped her armrest with her wand. The armchair changed colours with every tap. Blue. Brown. Pink. Maroon. Purple. Orange. Black.
"It seems to me, dear," said Maggy in a firm voice. "The first thing we need to do is go to your home. We must search for clues!"
++ to be continued
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