6:3 – Act 1
“Look, you can’t peddle that shit here,” filtered into the entry way as the group approached the front door, causing Kim to blink. She’d never heard Jeff, Leo’s doorman slash bouncer, use such harsh language.
“I’m not! Really!”
“Leo has made it damned clear to Nona that none of her runners can hustle anywhere in a three-block radius from this place.”
“I swear! Nona sent me, but not… I’m not. I’m not one of her runners. I swear.”
The group stepped out of the pub to find Jeff blocking the door with a kid who couldn’t have been more than fifteen cowering in front of him. The kid was wearing dirty jeans, raggedy white high-tops, and had a sheaf of papers clutched to his chest, stark against his scruffy green lantern t-shirt. His dark hair, in need of a trim or maybe that was just the style this week, hung over his eye partially obscuring the sharp intelligence in it.
Jeff turned at the sound of the door, giving a upward chin jerk to Ivan.
“Ivan, I need a member of the Guard. Anyone in the area?”
The kid fell back a step. “Not the Guard. I swear. I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m looking for,” he dug in his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. “Siobhan, Ben, or Selectman Ivan?”
Siobhan stiffened next to Kim, her eyes huge on the papers the kid held. Kim nudged Siobhan with her elbow, subtly directing her behind her then taking a step to the side to provide Siobhan with partial cover.
Ivan stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I’m Ivan.”
Showing considerable manners, the kid freed up a hand to shake Ivan’s. “I’m Kevin. I’m one of the kids from Nona Stroga’s park.”
“Crack house,” Jeff mumbled, earning a sharp look from the kid.
The kid rolled his lips in, then nodded as he drew his hand back from Ivan’s. “Nona heard from somebody who heard from somebody,” he counted off on his fingers, “who heard from somebody named Ben that you were looking for weird stories that seemed to be about people. People that people know?”
Ben stepped up, hand extended for a shake which the kid met with a firm grip while holding Ben’s gaze. In the gesture and the gaze was an innate astuteness that Ben recognized.
“I’m Ben. What do you do? Kevin, right?”
“I run errands for Nona Stroga.”
As Jeff had implied with his ‘crack house’ crack, Nona Stroga was one of the top producers of low-rent neuroceuticals in Ourton. She owned a trailer park out by the swamp which she ran like an orphanage for the kids she gathered to her. She was like the Old Lady in the Shoe, but with drugs.
As a kid Ben envied the kids that she took in. Sure, they were raised by a woman whose Empire was fed by the suffering of others. But none of ‘her kids’ had to worry about rats or when they were going to eat next. And rumor was she didn’t force anyone to go to work for her. If they wanted to, sure, she wasn’t turning away an opportunity for a loyal foot soldier. But if a kid wanted to go to school, become a teacher or even a Guard, she backed their play. Again, Ben wished his Mom had offered him that much of a chance.
The kid saying he ran errands for Nona could literally mean he ran errands for her. Could also mean he ran drugs. Again, Ben couldn’t fault a kid for making a life for himself. But, considering the papers the kid was clutching and the way he was dropping details of the inquiries Ben had instigated, Ben was going with the kid was a straight up errand boy not a ‘runner’.
“You got something for me, Kevin?”
Kevin nodded and held out the papers he’d been clutching. “My friend Llora disappeared. Found this in the house.”
Towards the back of the group Dempsey turned to Patti. “Is this how this always works? Like you walk out the door and someone hands you something you need?”
“Seems like it,” Patti replied quietly. Sass looked out of it’s belt house and “peeped!”. “Diana’s husband, Jake, just came up to the table with a story, said he’d heard our group was working on it. Then when Siobhan was abducted-”
“She was abducted?” Dempsey eyed Siobhan where she was partially shielded by Kim.
“What did you think she meant about being dosed?”
Dempsey tugged on his earlobe. “I wasn’t really thinking about it, to be honest. Some kind of alchemist thing, maybe?”
“And all the details she had about the bad guys? Or how Dan said items were used on her?”
“I didn’t make the connection.”
“Are you an idiot?”
“I am, in fact, not an idiot.”
Sass leaned way out on the sill of it’s little house and gave a ‘squee’. Yeah, Sass, Patti thought at it, the jury is definitely out on that.
“Did you know you have a rat hanging from your belt?”
“Not a rat. A mouse. A Magickal mouse.”
“Sure.” Dempsey rolled his eyes.
Sass gave what could only be interpreted as an indignant ‘meep!’ and dropped back into it’s house. Patti detached herself from Dempsey’s side and moved to stand next to Gwen, muttering, “What a dick.”
Gwen looked over with a frown. “The kid?”
“That Dempsey jackass.”
At this Gwen shrugged. “Yep. A complete dick. I’m keeping my eyes on that one.”
“He did have a point though.”
“Hmmm?”
“He asked if adventures just sort of presented themselves to your group. Had to tell him it kind of felt like it to me. Why is that?”
“God?”
“Huh?”
Gwen shook her head. “Just had a conversation in the bathroom with Siobhan and Kim about whether things were inevitable. If we were meant to do things or find things. If God or Magick was forcing us down a path. Or if God is Magick.”
“Pretty deep for a shitter.”
“You’re telling me.”
“That’s some serious ten-shots in conversation.”
“Yep.”
“What did you decide? Is Magick dropping shit in your laps?”
Gwen shrugged. “No damned clue.”
“Hey! We got another one!” Ben called from the front of the group.
Before Gwen could dart forward, Patti grabbed her arm. “Hey, Gwen?”
Gwen stopped and tugged her arm out of Patti’s hold. “What?”
“Did you decide if God is Magick?”
“No.”
“Do you think so?”
Gwen nodded her head in the affirmative and then pushed forward to look down at the papers Ben was holding. “What is it?”
“Hey, Gwen! This is Kevin. He brought us some papers they found after his friend Llora went missing.”
Gwen lifted her brows. “Excellent exposition.”
“We need to find her,” Siobhan said quietly to Kim’s back.
Kim nodded. “We will.”
“How long has she been gone?”
Kim turned to look at Siobhan. “You want me to ask.”
At Siobhan’s nod Kim turned to the kid who was still standing near Ben. “How long has your friend been gone?”
“Two days?”
Kim didn’t need to feel Siobhan stiffen to know that answer was not good. “Two days? And you didn’t report it to anyone?”
The kid shrunk back under Kim’s questions. “Uh. Nona wanted to handle it herself. She doesn’t like the Guard.”
“Hey, kid,” Ben said, smoothing it all over with his casual tone. “I get it. The Guard never did you guys any good, right?”
“Nona didn’t want them coming around, poking all over the park.”
Ben draped a hand over Kevin’s shoulder, further connecting to make the kid relax. “I get that. Trust me. Don’t like the Guard coming around my place either. Not that,” he slanted a glance at Ivan, “anything we do isn’t completely above board.”
Ivan lifted his brows. “Of course.”
“So,” Ben continued, all smooth like. “Your friend had been gone two days. You guys found anything to suggest who took her? I assume someone took her?”
“Yeah. Of course. She wouldn’t just leave. Nona’s training her up. She’s got a bright future.”
“Llora got a boyfriend?”
A slight flush rose to Kevin’s cheeks. So… the wind blew that way, huh? The kid shook his head vigorously, causing the dark comma of his hair to dash around his eyes. “No. She doesn’t have time for that. Nona keeps her real busy.”
“You think Nona would mind if my friends and I came by. Checked the spot out?”
Kevin ran a measuring glance over the group. “I think she wouldn’t mind you. But not the Selectman. You know.”
Ben tightened his arm around Kevin’s shoulder. “I do, Bruh. Totally.”
“I’m not staying behind,” Ivan mumbled loud enough Ben heard him. Ben waved his free hand behind him, shooing Ivan back a few steps as he turned Kevin toward the swamp.
“What say we start walking and you can decide who here Nona might be okay with.”
Dan moved up so he was walking on Kevin’s free side. He offered his hand, “Hey, I’m Dan. I’m an investigator.”
Kevin nodded. “Oh.”
“Can I ask you a few questions about your friend?”
“Yeah. Anything that can help.”
As the group started following Kevin, Ben, and Dan, Gwen turned to look at Dempsey.
“You coming?”
Dempsey shrugged. “I guess.”
Gwen was already turning away when she said, “Super.” Then she turned back and looked at him. “Don’t walk at my back.”
“What do you have against me?” Dempsey asked as he moved to walk beside her.
Gwen shrugged. “There’s something off about you.”
“There’s something off about you.”
Gwen slashed her hand to the side. “Don’t turn this back on me, Mr. Sixty Mark T-Shirt.”
“It was fifty-five.”
“Whatever.”
Prairie dropped back to walk with Gwen and Dempsey, offering him her hand. “Hi. I’m Prairie.”
“We met.”
“Don’t hurt my friend or I’ll-”
“Cut me into little pieces that the Guard won’t be able to identify? Got that memo.”
“I’m a nurse. Blood doesn’t scare me.” Prairie linked her arm with Gwen’s. “I’m also a Spirit worker so, unlike most other people, death doesn’t either. Do you fear death, Mr. Dempsey?”
“You realize this is like being threatened by a kitten, right?”
“The thing with kittens is people see how cute they are and forget they are natural-born killers.”
“Terrifying, Kitten.”
“Hey, Prair,” Ivan dropped back to join them. “This guy giving you any trouble?”
“Damn!” Dempsey remarked. “Make a guy feel welcome, huh?”
“Way I see it,” Ivan said, squaring his shoulders so he blocked out the sun and caused a shadow to fall on Dempsey’s face, “you have something we need. Or at least that Dan thinks we need. So, I’m going to put my reservations about working with someone Ben seems a bit in love with, because the people who give Ben a heart-on are usually not good people.”
“Present company excluded,” Prairie said with a smile.
Ivan nodded. “Of course.” He turned back to focus on Dempsey. “So, we need you so you stay, but if you, by any action or choice you make, cause my friends distress I will make it my life’s mission to crush you. And I’m very good at crushing people.”
Dempsey thumped his fist over his heart. “The love coming my way is overwhelming.” He finished the gesture with a single-finger salute.
Prairie grinned really wide.
“What?” Dempsey demanded.
“You’re going to fit right in!”
In the center of the pack, because honestly at nine deep now they were turning into a genuine pack, Siobhan, Kim, and Patti walked in companionable silence. Sass leaned out of the window of its house, taking in the day. When they passed people it would wave. They’d wave back. Then Sass would blow kisses. The third time this happened a soft smile curved Siobhan’s lips.
At the stone fence marking the edge of Nona’s park two guys, not much older than Kevin, stood with crossbows held idly at the ready in front of a wrought iron gate.
“Kev!” the one on the right called out.
“Neil. Got someone to see Nona.”
“She expecting them?”
“Yes.”
The guy, Neil, tapped his ear then spoke quietly into the air. There was a moment’s pause, then he nodded, swung his crossbow around on a strap to lie at his back, and grabbed a crank mechanism built into the wall. After several cranks the gate slid back slowly.
“Go ahead. She says head to the greenhouse.”
Kevin nodded and entered, waving for the group to follow. The place was well-maintained. Not your typical “trailer-park trash” kind of place. More like a gated community with mobile homes or had-once-been slash could-be-mobile-again homes. Most had small fences marking off ‘property lines’, behind which grew vibrant little beds of plants and flowers.
Here, there, and everywhere kids clustered. Some on the stairs of homes, some shooting hoops, even a few tending to gardens. And it all looked real innocuous until you noticed the weapons stacked behind the basketball hoop and propped on the stairs. It looked like a gated Neverland replete with lost boys, but these lost boys clearly had teeth. Magick protect any “pirates” that tried to take these kids things.
The evidence of that vigilance begged the question of how anyone could get in here to kidnap someone. Probably by Magick. Which then made their trip here arguably moot, but they had to go through the steps, right?
Kevin lead them to a large greenhouse that stood prominent in the center of the park, safe within the rings of trailers that created a defense of walls like a concentric castle. A quick glance to the four corners of the park and the small but distinct towers that rose there confirmed the impression. Someone understood their siege history.
“You have round the clock guards?” Ivan asked, eying one of the towers.
Kevin nodded. “We have a lot of kids here. A lot of vulnerable people. Nona likes to make sure they’re safe.”
“I can appreciate that.” What Ivan didn’t say was he appreciated that Nona liked to keep her product safe. A more cynical person would question if the kids and the “vulnerable people” weren’t just another ring of deterrent to that product being compromised. The part of him that was a protector appreciated the layout. The part of him that was a tinkerer too. That gate mechanism had been sweet. But the cynic… ‘eh.
Though called greenhouse the building they approached had little in common with the pedestrian structures of steel purlins and bows with poly stretched over them as a tug had with a yacht. At a rough guess over two thousand glass panes fit into the wood and iron framework. The walls were made up of tall rectangular panes, above which were hinged panels, some of which were propped open slightly to release a sweet fragrance in the air. The roof consisted of a large dome upon which another dome sat. The entirety of both domes was made up of small panes of glass within a lattice work of white iron.
The only part of the structure not glass was the solid white wood double-doors Kevin lead them towards. The doors were set in an entryway which projected out, opening into a small space like a mudroom with another set of double-doors at the end which opened into the main greenhouse. The space was likely there to provide an equalization of temperature from the exterior to the interior, an impression that was furthered when Kevin called the group to a halt in order to close the outer doors before opening the interior.
“Gotta keep the outside air from cooling the interior of the greenhouse!” he explained, removing any doubt of that design feature.
They stepped into an alchemist’s wet dream. Plants stretched the length of the building with small tile paths breaking the space into five long beds. A little short of halfway down the length a glass interior wall formed a replica of the exterior in miniature in the center of the greenhouse. The glass panes provided a view of the interior which was set up like a Victorian Orangerie complete with trees, comfortable furniture and a small waterfall against the fall wall. Kevin lead them to the double-doors and knocked. A female voice called, “Come in!”
From the moment she walked into the space Siobhan’s expression had transformed to one of wonder. It was all she could do not to run along the paths like the children in Willie Wonka’s factory had dashed through the landscape of candy-bearing plants and rivers of chocolate. That analogy probably was a viable one. Anyone dashing through this interior was as likely to find hazard as joy.
Lilies of the valley hung like bells on thin stalks, their delicate beauty a lure that hid the death lurking in their cardiac glycosides. Near these bloomed several gorgeous oleander trees, their sprays of white, pink, and red flowers and the spikes of their green leaves containing oleandrin and neriine, more cardiac glycosides that could deliver sudden death.
To the right Castor oil plants, those wonderous things that offered so many components for remedies, heavy with ricin bearing seeds, one of which could kill a child. In such close proximity to the camp of children outside the greenhouse the brightly colored red stems were a visual elegy. The bell-shaped blooms and the bright berries that clustered the tall stalks of foxglove were another enticement to child death.
The control that Nona Stroga must have to keep the kids in the park from these plants!
There was a bed of lily varietals, including Toxicoscordion venenosum, otherwise known as death camas, which could cause convulsions, coma, and death. Over to the left a bed of dieffenbachia was picked out behind a low fence, probably there to keep anyone from brushing against it and causing burning or itching.
Yew. Monkshood. Rosary Peas. Angel’s Trumpets. Black locust. The greenhouse was a veritable smorgasbord of death.
Anyone other than an alchemist, stumbling on this garden, might come to conclusions regarding the gardener that cultivated such a thing. But to
Siobhan this was a Cave of Wonders, a treasure trove that commanded the senses. If she didn’t think it would draw the ire of the gardener, a thing she very much did *not* want to do, she’d probably be playing her fingers through the greenery. For the first time since… She shied her mind away, latching her gaze on the bounty in the greenhouse. For the first time in a long time, she amended, she felt at peace.
She didn’t even realize she’d fallen behind until Prairie called, “Siobhan? Are you coming?”
“Breathing hard,” she murmured on a smile, then clapped her hand over her mouth and joined her friends at the greenhouse within a greenhouse.
“So, this is pretty.” Patti murmured to her.
“Pretty deadly.” Siobhan replied, “Keep Sass in its house.”
“Poison?”
“So much poison.”
“Who does that?”
Siobhan refrained from answering ‘me?’. Not that her collection was anywhere as extensive as this – so much jealousy – but if the average homicide detective wandered her greenhouse they might give Siobhan a look or three. In the hands of a talented alchemist poison was not fluid fatality, hallucinogens healed, certain death transformed to Magick.
Shrugging in answer, she waved at the door. “Going in?”
“I’m not sure what help I’ll be in there.”
“Do you always need to be a help?”
It was Patti’s turn to shrug, but she did enter the interior greenhouse, leaving the door open for Siobhan.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” The voice came from beside the door. Siobhan, unprepared, jumped and cringed to the side opposite where the voice had originated from. Propped there against the wall stood an older woman. Older but not old.
She had that timeless quality of someone who ate well, lived well, loved well, caught somewhere between forty and seventy and giving no real indication of which end of that scale she leaned on. The sharp dark intelligence in her eyes didn’t narrow that any. It spoke of lessons learned and knowledge accumulated and secrets only she knew. It was that latter that gave those eyes a sparkle that whispered of dark nights and sneaking down the trellis of her house to chase after a voice in the shadows, the look of a child drunk on mischief that wouldn’t let Siobhan see her as old as the lines on her face would demand.
That sparkle encouraged Siobhan to trust her, so of course Siobhan did not. Like that garden outside of the glass wall that Nona Stroga leaned against, the woman herself presented a pretty surface that could easily distract as the insidious poison beneath it sought Siobhan’s weakness. Siobhan had met other women and men like this in her training. Alchemists were a deceptively innocuous lot. Just look at her. Kindergarten teacher. Wearer of skirts and flowers in her hair. Death her trade as surely as healing was.
“Nona, I presume?”
“Broken, I see.”
“Presumptuous.”
“You were the one to presume.”
Siobhan’s friends stood back, watching this exchange, the looks on their faces projecting concern, confusion, and on one a dawning understanding.
“I was.” Siobhan smiled, all teeth.
“You come to my garden.”
“I come to your garden. Invited.”
A broad smile curved the mouth that had been set in stern lines, transforming the woman’s features as surely as she transformed matter into Magick. “Welcome, sister.”
“Thank you for having me, sister.”
Nona Stroga, for that was surely who this older woman in her swirl of bright skirts with white hair transforming the colors of the gossamer fine scarf she had wrapped around it to pastel from vibrant tones was, stepped away from the wall and waved towards a small white metal table with two chairs set next to it.
The remainder of the group she offered no mind, though Siobhan wasn’t stupid enough to believe the old spider wasn’t aware of the location of every one of the flies in her parlor. They were left to stand or shift as they would though they all showed the sense to not shift too close. Her friends were not stupid.
“Join me?” It was clear her question was for Siobhan. Seeing no obvious reason to not comply, Siobhan followed and took the chair Nona offered. She wasted no time in asking, “You have a missing child.”
Nona picked up the teapot resting on a trivet on the table and poured a stream of tea into the cup in front of her. Holding the pot above a second cup she looked to Siobhan, who slashed her hand sideways to indicate she wanted no tea.
Even before her… situation she wasn’t stupid enough to drink something another alchemist, not of her acquaintance and certainly not her intimate friend, poured for her. What most people didn’t realize about alchemists was their society had more in common with assassins than gardeners. The innocent gardener image was one those of her Magick had long cultivated to lure in the uninitiated. But she was not that, so she adopted a look of rueful uncertainty and murmured, “Thank you. No.”
Nona shrugged and replaced the pot on the trivet. “I’m not missing a child. I am missing *my* child.”
Storm clouds formed in Nona’s eyes, a glimpse of the spider, while her expression remained that of an older woman, concerned for the loss of a loved one.
“Oh, your boy didn’t tell us the missing girl was your daughter.”
“As good as. I name her mine, so she is.”
“We wish to find her.”
“Why?” Nona leaned back in her chair and sipped from her steaming cup, then placed it back in its saucer. “Why would fine folk such as yourself seek to help the daughter of a drug dealer?”
The lift of her brow dared Siobhan to contradict her, to lie in a show of politeness. Siobhan, like her friends, was not stupid.
“We have our reasons.”
“And if I said I needed to know them.”
“I’d say that you have a lovely garden. Thank you for allowing us to see it. We’ll find our own way out.”
“You wouldn’t make it ten feet from the building.”
“But it would be interesting to try.”
Nona chuckled, her amusement rich like dark coffee, warming Siobhan from the inside. “You, girl, show promise.”
“It’s been a while since anyone called me a girl.”
Nona waved a dismissive hand. “To these old eyes all of you are children.”
Siobhan just lifted a brow, not demurring because that too would be a lie in the guise of politeness and, if she was reading the woman right, something Nona with her direct and blunt manner would not respect. “Your daughter disappeared. You found a story about her. It unnerved you.”
“I wouldn’t say it unnerved me.”
“You’d heard that Ben was looking for stories like this. You waited two days to contact us.”
“We handle things for ourselves in the swamp. Why would I seek outside aid when I am fully capable of managing such a trifle?”
“You wanted to obscure the trail. Make it impossible to find the girl.”
Nona brought her hand down on the table hard enough to make the cup and saucer dance. “I did not!”
“You thought perhaps a rival had taken your daughter. You were waiting for a demand which would give you a direction to focus on.”
Nona’s nod was terse. “It never came.”
“So, then you started grasping at straws. You remembered hearing something about Ben’s inquiries.”
“One of my runners did.”
“You love the girl.”
“More than I can say. She is my little Rapunzel.”
Dan jerked and straightened from where he’d been slouched against the wall, taking notes in his flip notebook. “Repeat?”
Nona turned and glowered at him. Dan pointed his pen at Siobhan and lifted his brows.
“Why would you call her that?” Dan nodded at Siobhan’s question. She’d read his interest right.
“It was her favorite story growing up. I think she found parallels to the girl in the fairy tale being traded away by her parents.”
“She was?”
“Her mother had a habit. One that was costly.” Nona’s shrug dismissed the fact that she was the conduit for that costly habit. “She couldn’t keep the girl. I could.”
Siobhan shifted her gaze to Dan who had gone rigid as a hunting dog with a scent. “Dan? I think it is time to read that story.”
She turned back to Nona. “With your permission, of course.”
Nona nodded. “Of course.”
Dan walked over, papers held out. “Do you want to read it?”
“No.” Siobhan frowned. “I think you should.”
“Okay.”
Dan planted his feet apart, establishing a strong foundation, and started to read.
Enter The Woods 