Attracted by the shouting, Robin, Sheyenne, and I approached the stall, ready to help if the situation grew ugly.
“Can I have a sword?” Alvina asked. “A long, pointy one?”
“Not today, honey,” Robin said.
The gremlin brightened, sensing new customers. “I am Noxius, purveyor of sharp objects! I have blades of every shape and design, ranging from mortal combat weapons to kitchen cutlery. Talk to me if you see something you like.” He leaned forward on his stool, peering down at Alvina. “How about a double-bladed battle-ax for the cute little girl?”
“Oh, so now you can see just fine?” Mort huffed.
“She’s cute,” explained the gremlin.
Alvina grinned bashfully, showing her fangs.
I butted in. “What seems to be the problem?”
Robin said, “I know several members of the Unnatural Quarter’s Better Business Bureau.”
“I should file a complaint!” Mort glared at Noxius. I saw that the painted puppies and Elvis figures on his black velvet robes were quite well done. “Excalibur is missing, and I need to find it. The sword belongs to me! I am the proper king!”
The gremlin shrugged. “First come, first served. The dragon lost the weapon from her hoard, fair and square. She just can’t resist a bet.”
Mort clenched his hands and worked his jaw. His eyes became very hard. “That damned Alice and her gambling problem.” He leaned over the rickety wooden counter, and the gremlin flinched behind his thick glasses. “I’ll buy it back. I’ll pay you double. Just tell me who has it.”
“I told you before, they all look the same to me,” said Noxius. “Couldn’t read his name.”
“Why would a golem want a legendary sword in the first place? What are they going to do with it?”
That immediately piqued my interest. “Excuse me, sir? I’m Dan Chambeaux, zombie private investigator, and this is Robin Deyer, my partner at Chambeaux and Deyer Investigations. Could you tell us more?”
Mortimer Dred gave us a dissecting look. Alvina waved, and the king didn’t find her endearing. “I’ll do more than explain to you—I’ll hire you! If you’re a detective, I need you to find Excalibur, the sword of kings. He who holds the blade, rules the land . . . and the Real Renaissance Faire. I will pay you greatly if you find it for me.”
As our business manager, Sheyenne immediately took charge. Somehow she produced a sheet of paper from her medieval costume. “This is our client engagement form. If you’ll fill this out, Mr. Dred, we can begin our investigations right away.”
III.
As a zombie detective it’s my passion to solve crimes, like golem murders. I liked keeping innocent monsters safe, and helping my BHF McGoo. But we did have to pay the bills.
“We’ll find the missing sword,” I promised.
“Always take care of the client,” Robin said, satisfied, “but our real work is in the name of justice.”
“And keeping our business afloat,” Sheyenne added. The two didn’t always see eye to eye.
“Don’t forget about my college fund,” Alvina said.
Since Excalibur had been part of the dragon’s treasure hoard until it fell into the hands of the gremlin sword vendor, we decided to go ask Alice. The little vampire girl was eager to meet her very first dragon, even though fantastical beasts were commonplace in the Unnatural Quarter.
Outside the main exhibition area, the dragon’s tent was impossible to miss, being big enough to hold a giant flying reptile with elbow room to spare. We made our way through the hubbub, passing a fire eater who was being heckled by an actual fire demon, and a juggler who was a multiarmed squid creature wearing colorful medieval clothes.
Before our band of merry friends could get there, however, we encountered an unexpected attraction. Standing on a wooden crate, a golem raised clay fists to the sky and shouted in a hollow voice that belonged at a political rally. “Golems have been downtrodden for too long! We will no longer let our mud be trampled underfoot and tracked all over the house. We were made to serve, but we were not