8:5
Forks were being laid down on plates, powdered sugar was being mopped up by licked fingers from the edges, when Ivan returned. Kim, leaning against the stove with the solid safety of the wall behind her and a plate held in front of her was shoveling crepes into her gob and trying not to think beyond “food good”. When the door smacked into the stone wall of the cottage she jerked hard enough her fork flew from her hand and went skittering across the floor. Moving quickly she brought her foot down on the fork, halting its skid. Buying herself a moment, she stooped to snag the fork, took a cleansing breath through her nostrils then rose with a close-lipped smile.
She was so intent on showing she was okay she missed Prairie approaching from her left and ended up jumping a foot and a half in the air when Prairie delicately touched her arm, thereby ruining any chance at appearing nonchalant. The only reason she didn’t drop the fork again was she had a death grip on it.
Sucking air hard through her nostrils she fought to not go all wild-eyed crazy girl as she struggled to settle her nerves. Prairie, for her part, seemed to read the situation quickly as she took two small steps back and gave Kim a very soft, tentative smile.
“Can I take your plate?”
Kim blinked rapidly and thrust the plate at Prairie. “Sorry. I must have gotten lost in thought. And crepes.”
Prairie’s nod said she was willing to play along. “They were very good crepes.”
“Thanks.” Kim’s attention shifted to Ivan who lowered a large bag to the floor beside the door before announcing. “I’m ready. Is everyone else?”
Ben stuck his head out from the bedroom, noted Ivan’s arrival with a, “Oh, its you,” then went back to his conversation with Dempsey. Looping her bag strap over her head Siobhan wandered out of the bedroom and looked at Kim who swept a wide gesture at the plate Prairie held.
“I ate.”
“I see,” Siobhan’s tone was dry.
“That means I can go.”
Siobhan paused in placing her plate in the sink and looked up with a bland expression. “Did we agree to that?”
Kim gave her a narrowed-eyed look. “We did.”
Siobhan pumped some water into the sink. “I don’t recall that.”
“I get up.” Kim ticked off on her fingers. “I eat. I function. I go.”
Siobhan kept her head down as she focused on the dishes, swishing a cloth over them to clean them. She shifted as Prairie walked over and slid some more plates into the soapy water.
“That doesn’t sound familiar.” There was a trace of a smile in Siobhan’s voice, but the face she turned to Kim was majestically blank.
Kim rolled her eyes. Siobhan focused on her washing, clearly unmoved by Kim’s pique.
Gwen wandered over from the sitting area, snickered, and slid her plate into the sink. “You did say that. Sort of. If she was still upright after getting ready and eating she got to go.”
“Nope,” Siobhan lifted her eyes and pursed her lips. “Don’t recall that.”
A small giggle escaped Abe which then drew a reluctant grin from Kim who still made a show of rolling her eyes at Siobhan again before pushing away from the stove and marching to stand in front of the door with her arms crossed.
Muttering something that sounded a lot like “I’m not a damsel,” she continued to stand there, arms crossed while Siobhan finished washing the dishes, Patti stepped over to dry them, and Gwen put them away in a choreographed dance of cooperation.
Ben and Dempsey strolled in from the bedroom and approached Ivan who’d taken up a position by the cold fireplace across from the couch. Dempsey eyed Kim who continued to stare fixedly at the door, her arms crossed and her legs braced to counter any sway in her stance.
Dempsey lofted her chin in Kim’s direction. “What’s up with that?”
“She’s going with us,” Ivan said out of the corner of her mouth.
“Okay.”
“I think she thinks we’re going to leave her behind,” Ivan expanded.
“Okay. Are we?”
“Nah. She’s pretty determined.”
“Looks like.” Dempsey shifted, then added, “You think she’s good for it?”
Ivan shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Ben said as Kim cast a look back over her shoulder, appearing to assess the various locations of the group, to which Ivan replied, “We all will.”
Ivan eyed Kim’s set shoulders. “We could have lost her.”
Ben nodded. “I know.” He went quiet, taking in Kim’s stance. “It won’t happen again.”
“You sure about that?” Dempsey asked, going where the others would not.
Ivan clenched his teeth and nodded. “I’m sure.”
Once the sink was empty of dishes Siobhan turned to the room. “Ben, Dempsey, and I were talking and, I know, the instinct is to go The House immediately but maybe that isn’t the best option.”
“Why not?” Gwen draped the towel over the edge of the sink and gave Siobhan her full attention.
Siobhan shifted her attention to the three standing by the fireplace. “Dempsey? Want to field that?”
Dempsey rubbed the back of his neck then shrugged. “You consistently go off without all the information. This time it feels like there could be two sides to the story so it would be better to get that information before going off half-cocked.”
Patti turned and leaned against the counter, reaching to pull Sass from its house and place it on her shoulder before giving Dempsey her full attention. “Two sides?”
“The story is Beauty and the Beast. We have this guy, Gryphon, missing. He’s the Beast. But what about Beauty?”
Kim stubbornly retained her position in front of the door, but she did turn her head to look at Dempsey. “Why do you think he’s the Beast?”
Dan answered before Dempsey could. “It isn’t as obvious as the other stories but there are elements. A man with a debt. A daughter who the creditor shows an interest in.”
Kim cocked her head, screwed her face up in thought, then turned slowly to give Dan a shrewd look. “Gryphon isn’t the creditor. Don Franco is.”
Dan nodded. “The story that was found is very short. There are elements missing from the original story by Gabrielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve. In that story Beauty has multiple brothers and sisters. We don’t know if the Aillea in the story that was found has any siblings. The father was a merchant. The father we have is a professor. That story ends before what would be the meat of the original which is what happens after Beauty agrees willingly to go with the Beast. Her choice was important in the original. The story we have doesn’t have an agreement. We may be wrong assuming Gryphon is the Beast.”
“And?”
Dan indicated Dempsey with a lift of his chin. “Dempsey is right. We need more information.”
“Why?” Patti asked. “We haven’t had information before this and we did fine recovering people. Why do we need to know for sure that this is Beauty and Beast? We could just go in and deal with whatever. Do we actually need to know what story we might be facing?”
“And everything has gone smoothly so far.”
Though her tone was flippant there was a weight to Siobhan’s words that matched the ghosts flitting in her eyes. Patti curled her lips over her teeth and looked down. Sass cuddled against her neck and reached up to gently pat her jaw, drawing a soft smile from Patti.
Dan went stone-faced. Or more stone-faced than usual.
“It feels like we need to know.” Petering off into silence, he focused his gaze somewhere beyond Patti’s shoulder. After a moment or three, he turned to look at Abe who looked back and gave the barest of nods. Dan reached into one of the pockets in his vest and pulled out a toothpick which he proceeded to stick into the corner of his mouth and work a bit. Eventually, he shifted the toothpick from one corner to the other then said, “We haven’t been asking enough questions. We have a lot of details we aren’t trying to connect. And we’ve been reactive instead of proactive. A story is given to us and we respond. If we keep doing that we’re going to be playing catch-up until this thing ends. We need to get ahead of it. Start asking things like how They pick their victims so we can anticipate their actions instead of waiting for them to do something. If we don’t They will reach their goal while we are trailing behind them.”
Kim crossed her arms. “It sounds like you’ve been thinking about this.”
Dan shrugged. “A little.”
“I agree with Dan,” Ivan said. When the others swiveled their attention to him he lifted his brows. “We are chasing our own tails. Or, really, we’re chasing Their tails. We need to investigate. Dan’s our investigator. I say we listen to him.”
Ben shifted from foot to foot. “I told Don Franco we’d recover his guy.”
“And we will.” Siobhan worked her fingers over the potion vials marching down the strap of her bag. “But taking the time to ask some questions and seek out the professor and his daughter to see if we can get details which could tell us what we are running into seems like it would be worth the delay.”
“Do we all go?” Gwen asked.
Siobhan shifted her gaze over the group. “We are sort of a mob. Maybe only a few of us should go.”
“Who?”
“You, I think, because your skills might come in handy to read the professor and his daughter.” Siobhan looked to Dan. “Dan has investigation skills so he should go too. In fact, Dan?”
“Yeah?”
“You should be the one to take the lead on this. Who else makes sense to take?”
Dan assessed the group. “Ivan because he has the authority of being a Selectman. People respond to that.”
Ivan nodded and Dan tracked his gaze over the group again. “Abe? Would you go?”
“Me?” Abe pointed at their chest.
“Yeah. When we met the other people affected I had this feeling that there was some Magick hovering around them but I couldn’t see it. I could use your eyes on this.”
Abe nodded vigorously enough to send their hair over their eyes. They shoved it back with a quick hand. “I can do that.”
“Okay,” Siobhan said, “that makes you, Ivan, and Abe.”
“And Gwen. You’re right that she can read the people better than the rest of us.”
“I should go.” Ben abruptly said, drawing Dan’s attention.
“Why?”
“Because I can say I’m representing Don Franco. It might get the professor to reveal something.”
Dan shook his head. “I think four is enough.”
Ben crossed his arms and his expression went mulish but before he could say anything else Prairie moved over to him and aid a gentle hand on his arm. “You and Dempsey should use your contacts to find out information about Gryphon. You and he are the only two of us that have those kind of connections.”
Ben arched his brows. “Are you implying we’re dirty?”
Prairie just smiled soft. “I’m suggesting the two of you have different connections that we do. Which could be helpful in getting information about Gryphon.”
“What about the rest of us?” Patti asked.
“We could put our heads together to try to make connections with the information we have now.”
“I can give you my notes,” Dan offered to which Prairie said, “Thanks.” before turning back to Patti.
“I know it isn’t exciting but it could be important. Plus, it gives Kim a little more time to get her feet under her before we go off looking for Gryphon.”
Kim crossed her arms and her lower lip pouted out enough a bird could have landed on it. “I’m fine.”
“Who is the medical professional?”
Kim’s shoulders slumped and she looked down. “You are.”
“So,” Siobhan said, “that’s settled. Dan, Abe, Gwen, and Ivan will go to find Aillea and Professor Bianchi. Ben and Dempsey will tap their resources. And Patti, Prairie, Kim and I will look at Dan’s notes to see if we can find any connections that have been missed.”
Kim finally gave up her position before the door, slouching over to drop onto the couch. “Sounds exciting.”
Siobhan lifted her brows. “I think you and I have had plenty of excitement.”
Kim’s expression shifted from obstinance to chagrin. She drew a deep breath and released it on a sigh. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms and rubbed her brow. “It seems like a sensible allocation of our resources. I just hate being left on the bench.”
“I hear that,” Patti said, plopping down on the couch next to Kim. As soon as she sat Sass scurried from her shoulder and ran across the couch to poke at Kim’s thigh. Kim reached down with a single finger and delicately tapped the top of the mouse’s head. “Don’t worry, kiddo, we’ll get in on the fun soon.”
She shifted her gaze around the room, her narrowed eyes suggesting there was an “or else” in there somewhere. Siobhan smiled and pushed away from the stove to sit down in the chair adjacent to the couch and plop her bag down on the side table situated between the two pieces of furniture.
“Of course we will.” She turned to look at Dan. “You should get going.”
Dan reached into the pockets of his vest, drawing out three notebooks and a pile of folded papers. He placed them on the coffee table in front of the couch, then moved to the door. Abe, Gwen, and Ivan moved to join him and then they were out the door and on their way. Dempsey and Ben shared a look then pushed away from the fireplace.
“We’ll go do-” Ben jerked a thumb at the door. “stuff.”
With that he and Dempsey left too and then it was just Siobhan, Patti, Kim, and Prairie and a pile of notebooks and assorted notes. Prairie walked over and picked up a notebook then settled into the rocking chair next to the fireplace. Kim grabbed another notebook and Patti pulled the folded papers towards herself, unfolding them to reveal the charts Dan had drawn up trying to come up with intersections between the victims they knew of so far. She spun one to face Siobhan, then picked up another and held it in front of her face, settling back to try to make sense of what, at this point, lacked sense.
It wasn’t sexy work but it might prove to be important. There were no unnecessary tasks. Just some of them were cooler than others, Siobhan thought as she picked up the paper Patti had pushed towards her and then flipped open one of Dan’s notebooks to start looking for any details that jumped out at her.
Much as it felt like they were being left out of the fun stuff truth was her alchemist training gave her a unique ability to parse details, Prairie had medical training which used similar skills, Patti as a bard had the natural capacity to recall tiny details and read patterns as rhythms, and Kim…
Well, okay, maybe she, Patti, and Prairie made sense to parse details from the information they’d collected so far and Kim was the outlier, but there was no way she was letting Kim out of her sight for the near future. Over the past week she’d realized seeing Kim there, concrete, settled the panic that fluttered in her chest. Could be it was easier to feel fear for her friend than herself. Could be she didn’t really want to think about that right now. She had notes to study. Besides this was a puzzle and Kim loved puzzles. There really was valid reason for Kim to be part of the information parsing team separate from Siobhan not wanting to let her out of her sight.
*
The Bianchi residence was a respectable townhouse, in a row of respectable townhouses supplied by the university to its faculty, with very little about it to make it stand out from its neighbors. It had a similar stone facade. The wrought iron fence under the windows the same uniform black, evenly spaced, with heavy spikes on the top to dissuade birds from landing and fouling the windows. Colorful flowers grew in window boxes, their colors and blooms varying only slightly from those under the windows of the adjacent homes. All combined the street and its neat townhouses looked like something from a painting or a movie, homogeneous, the picture of refined living that likely was a selling point the university used to recruit professors to their courses.
The window casings of the Bianchi residence, white and in suitable repair, were as white and in as suitable repair as the houses abutting each side of the townhouse, though the glass in the Bianchi’s panes had a sharper sparkle, suggesting someone within expressed their pride through industry. Or maybe the presence of a maid. It wasn’t unheard of for faculty members of the university to have the scratch to afford help, even if it was only someone coming in weekly to tidy.
If Samuele was, in fact, in as much debt to Don Franco as was suggested by the story, Gryphon, that seemed less than likely but in the circles Ivan moved as a Selectman he was as likely to run into people keeping up appearances, eating light to pay a maid’s wages or secretly selling off family heirlooms to afford a gardener to keep up the appearance of their house and therefore the appearance of wealth that afforded them standing among the power players in Ourton, than he was to encounter people who actually had the capital to keep water in their pools and caddies running next to their golf carts.
Nothing about the elaborate brass knocker, in the shape of a lion with a ring hanging from its mouth, centered in the door painted a sedate dark green suggested a lack of funds. The knocker was in good repair, with no sign of wear, and gleamed from a recent polishing. Whoever had expended the effort to keep the windows in order had done a similar job on the knocker. The paint on the door, smooth with no signs of buckling from heat or water, also spoke to someone house proud.
Probably the daughter, Ivan thought, reminding himself again of her name. Aillea. Aillea Bianchi. The reason he, Dan, Abe, and Gwen found themselves lined up on the stone stoop leading up to the dark green door and the brass knocker.
“I’ll take this,” tossing a quick look back at Dan where he stood one step down, Ivan stepped forward to lift the lion-head brass doorknocker.
Gwen and Abe ranged further down at the bottom of the stairs, faces turned upwards. “Like you said, I can sell this as Board business.”
Dan shrugged. “Works.”
He might have said more, though probably he wouldn’t have, but the door swung open to reveal a young woman with a harried expression and a feather duster hanging from the hand at her side.
She had a kerchief, somewhere between white and worn, holding back what was truly a fantastic head of dark brown curls, several of which had dust caught in them suggesting the kerchief wasn’t really doing its job so good. Her features weren’t striking, though they definitely lived in a neighboring borough, maybe one street over from ‘crap, am I drooling?’. Perhaps in better times she would have been firmly in that neighborhood but there was a drawn quality to her features, not pinched like there was a hunger on her but more tight, like a fox having heard the horn and straining to catch the sound of approaching hounds.
The door wasn’t even fully open and Ivan hadn’t even drawn breath to introduce himself before the girl was speaking in a tone that should have been sweet but for the weariness underlying it. Much like the subtle tightness of her features, that voice told Ivan this girl had seen things. Recently, if he was to guess.
“We don’t have the money,” the young woman said without preamble, preempting the words of greeting hovering on Ivan’s lips. Shoulders, thin and sharp, rose, emphasizing the ledge of collarbone revealed by the scooped neck of the young woman’s dirt-smudged shirt.
Ivan blinked. “I’m sorry. Money?”
The young woman flailed the air with her feather duster. “Whatever it is my father owes you, we don’t have it.” Her shoulders slumped and she looked down, biting her lip, before squaring her jaw and looking up to meet Ivan’s eyes. She was small. Probably didn’t come to Ivan’s sternum and she had to tilt her head back a ways to do so. “You came here for nothing. My father doesn’t own this house. The university does. And its all we have.”
Her darting gaze suggested she hadn’t meant to reveal that much. Or blurt it out. But, Ivan suspected she’s probably had to explain as much a time or two before and maybe she was treating it like a bandage, embracing the sting as she did the necessary of ripping it off.
Looking down at her Ivan adopted the sympathetic, yet slightly bland, expression he used when touring shelters under the auspices of his responsibilities as a Selectman. Sympathetic, because he was and he didn’t want to hide that, but bland because he appreciated that too much attention could anchor shame in the gut of someone who was down on their luck. For sure he knew that feeling well from his own childhood and he sought real hard to not cause anyone else to feel that way. As usual the look seemed to settle something in the young woman, removing a touch of the starch in her spine and the wince from her face.
“My name is Ivan. I’m one of your Selectman. I’m not here to settle a debt.” He held his hand out to shake. She eyed it for a moment then shoved her feather duster into her belt and carefully took his hand, giving it a delicate squeeze.
“I’m sorry.” She looked down, up again, revealing the subtle gleam of tears in her eyes. “I’m Aillea Bianchi. How can I help you?”
“The Guard has been investigating a series of disappearances in Ourton and the surrounding area. We were lead to understand that you might have some information on them.”
Aillea’s eyes widened. “I don’t know why you would think that!”
Dan stepped forward, his hand out. “Ma’am, my name is Dan. I’m an investigator. The Selectman didn’t mean to suggest you had anything to do with the disappearances.” He slanted a glance at Ivan who looked chagrined, the potential of what he’d said sinking in. “But we have reason to suspect that you might be affected by them.”
Aillea blinked, confusion clear. “I’m sorry? What?”
“Let me handle this,” Gwen muttered, poking Ivan in the back. He stepped down a step, giving her room to get onto the stoop.
“Hi. My name is Gwen.” She held her hand out to Aillea, clearly expecting a shake in greeting. As so often was the case when faced with the open exuberance Gwen exuded like a halo, Aillea let go her misgivings and took Gwen’s hand. There was a subtle shift in the air and then Aillea’s shoulders visibly relaxed and her features smoothed out.
The smile she gave Gwen was so sweet Ivan found himself instantly warming to the young woman. “Hi.”
Gwen returned the smile, projecting comfort and support in the look which was likely being mirrored by her Magick. “Hi.”
“Would you like to come in?” Aillea took a step back from the door, Gwen’s hand still in hers. Gwen took a step forward, not releasing contact, and let Aillea draw her into the house.
Aillea smoothed her free hand over her head, fingering the kerchief holding her hair back. “I was just cleaning. We had to let the maid go and,” her smile was bashful, “I really thought I could handle it, the cleaning that is, but its a lot more than I expected.”
“Especially because you’re not sleeping,” Gwen said, subtle in her inquiry.
“Yeah.” Aillea bit her lip. “How did you know that?”
“Dark circles.”
Aillea pressed her fingers under her eye. “Oh.”
“Is it okay if my friends come in too? We won’t stay long. We just have a few questions, if that’s okay?”
Aillea’s gaze darted to the door where Dan and Ivan still hovered. “Sure.” She drew a breath, her gaze darting to the left. “Perhaps you’d like to go to the study?”
Retaining her grip on Aillea’s hand, Gwen nodded. “That sounds cool.”
Gwen darted a glance back over her shoulder, indicating the others should enter. They did so, Abe bringing up the rear and closing the door as Gwen and Aillea moved to the room on the left which was the very picture of a what a university professor’s study should be with floor to ceiling bookshelves, lined with leather bound tomes worn from use so their titles were not easily discerned by the casual eyes, a well-worn carpet that might have been pricey at one point but now appeared the worse for the trudging of many feet over the years, and a solid desk behind which arched the back of a leather upholstered wing chair.
Behind the desk stretched more bookcases, full of more books as well as a few small keepsakes: a bowl of seashells; a shadow-box with a frame reminiscent of an arched exterior window, metal muntins breaking up the plane of the glass; a candlestick shaped like a woman with wings curved forward and holding a rose in its clasped hands. Along one wall sat a settee, the wood of its curved back gleaming with polish. It was to this that Gwen lead Aillea or Aillea lead Gwen. They sank into the cushions of it, hands still clasped.
“I’m afraid my father’s out,” Aillea said to Gwen, then turned to look at Ivan who stood firm several steps in from the door with Dan ranged to his right and Abe to his left. “If you wish to speak with him you’ll have to return.”
“We don’t need your father,” Ivan said, then gestured at the chair sitting adjacent to the settee. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Aillea touched the back of her neck, frowning as she felt the kerchief tied around her hair. Snatching it from her head, she stuffed it next to the glass-shaded lamp on the small round table between the settee and chair. Her raised brows and soft smile said “what you gonna do?” as looked to the seat then back at Ivan. “Please do.”
As Ivan was lowering himself into the seat Aillea stiffened. “Where are my manners? Would you like some tea? I’m afraid it won’t be a real tea, we don’t have any food in the house right now, but I can make tea.”
She directed the question at Gwen who squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring look. “We don’t need tea. As I said, we don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
Dan and Abe remained standing near the door. Dan was saying something quietly to Abe, who was busily surveying the room, the bookshelves, the furniture, and Aillea with the inquisitive eyes of a fledgling crow. They lifted their right hand, fingers black with tattoos splayed, and delicately traced something on the air. Their expression grew rapt and they turned their face up to Dan, clearly asking him a question though they kept their voices pitched low.
Ivan shifted, drawing Gwen’s eye and her attention back to the matter at hand which was questioning Aillea. Gently. She was reading some serious stress off the other woman. She didn’t need to add to it. But, they did need information. So, she needed to walk a fine line, building on the rapport she’d developed by pouring a measure of emotional healing into the other woman.
“We don’t want to add to your stress but we believe that a man named Gryphon Ricci spoke with your father shortly before he disappeared.”
Since she was still holding Aillea’s hand it was easy to gauge when the other woman stiffened and it was just as easy to send a gentle trickle of warmth through their linked hands. Aillea visibly relaxed again. Gwen wasn’t a big fan of using her Magick this way. Like a roofie, it danced dangerously close to using it to take away the other woman’s ability to say no. But on the other hand these questions had to be asked and if her magic could make the questions less scary was it totally wrong?
Well, that was a debate for another time. Probably. Or maybe she’d never do it again. Who knew? Slippery slope. Anyhow, back to the questions.
“We were told that this Gryphon Ricci was there to collect a debt your father owed to Don Franco Rossi.”
Aillea drew a deep breath, her narrow rib cage lifting with the force of it. “My father owes that man a lot of money.” She shifted her gaze to Ivan. “I’m sorry, when I saw you at the door I thought you were another of his men come to collect. You kind of have the look.”
Rather than showing affront, something Aillea’s tone suggested she was expecting, Ivan just gave a rogue’s grin. “You are not the first person to mistake me for a thug.”
“Oh,” Aillea cast her eyes down, then back up to meet the gleam in Ivan’s eyes, “I’m not sure Gryphon was a thug. I mean,” she stopped, looked to the side, then back to Ivan. “He might appear to be one. I mean, he was there to collect money for Don Franco but I heard my father refer to him as a former student. So, I mean,” she traced the neckline of her shirt with her free hand, “nothing says that a thug couldn’t be educated but the university usually draws, well…”
Ivan lifted his brows. “People with money to afford tuition.” He shrugged. “Makes sense. Not many thugs would think an education was a good investment.”
Aillea gave Ivan a tentative smile. “Yes. That. I mean, he looked, well, rough and he was definitely there to collect money so…” she shrugged, “perhaps I’m wrong to say he isn’t a thug.”
“But” Gwen ventured, reading something in the other woman beneath the surface of her veneer, “you don’t think he’s a thug.”
It wasn’t a question, though Aillea treated it as such. “No.”
There was something in Aillea’s eyes, a question, and inside of her where Gwen could feel it confusion roiled, along with a thread of subtle certainty. “I’ve just been having-”
“Dreams.” Abe’s voice rang across the room. They pushed away from the door, lowering their hand, and approached, stopping beside Ivan’s chair. “You’ve been having dreams.”
Aillea’s eyes widened and she tugged her hand out of Gwen’s. “Are you a Magicker?”
“Would it be a problem if we were?” Ivan asked.
Rather than looking at him, Aillea’s eyes darted to Gwen, switching between Gwen’s hand and face. “Are you?”
Gwen folded her hands, making sure Aillea followed the gesture. “Yes.”
Aillea’s eyes widened. “Oh.” She blinked several times. “Did you Magick me?”
Gwen considered evading the answer but the debate in her mind about Magick and will weighed on her enough she answered with absolute truth. “Yes.”
Aillea stiffened. Her gaze darted between Ivan, Dan, and Abe then came back to Gwen. “Are you going to hurt me?”
Dan answered before Gwen could. “No. We only want information. As we said at the door.”
“And if I don’t give it? Will you force me?” Aillea’s attention was solely on Gwen for this. Funny, considering both Dan and Ivan were large and men it was Gwen she looked to as a threat. It was a valid assessment, considering.
“No.” Gwen shook her head. “Never.”
Aillea’s shoulders slumped and her chest visibly relaxed. “Oh. Okay.” She bit her lip then switched her gaze over each person again. “You are already here. And,” she looked directly at Gwen, meeting Gwen’s eyes with ones in which ghost’s lurked, “its possible I have some questions too. About Magick. And if its possible that someone could get into someone’s room without anyone seeing, using Magick.”
Gwen’s heart plummeted. She wet her lips, taking the moment to tamp down the feeling, then gave Aillea a steady look. “Has someone been doing that to you?”
Aillea looked down at her clasped hands. “I think so. Maybe.”
“You said you were having dreams?” Dan asked.
Aillea looked up, resolve in her gaze. “I thought I was. At first. I’ve been having vivid dreams since the day that Mr. Ricci came to my father’s office to collect the debt. Every night. And they are so vivid.”
“Like Magick is on you,” Abe suggested. They looked to the desk, gesturing to it. “Would it be okay if I leaned on the desk? I don’t want to bother anything.”
Aillea shifted her gaze to the desk. “No. That’s fine. My father keeps all his research filed. Anything that’s on the desk is just scribbles and you won’t hurt those.”
Abe shrugged. “Great.” They walked over to the desk and leaned back, slouching against its support and crossing their legs at the ankle. “Before I say anything, why do you think your dreams are more than that?”
“Because last night it rained.” Aillea paused and gave a tired laugh. “I’m getting ahead of myself. As I said I’ve been having vivid dreams. And they are all the same. Every night. I’m in a castle. There’s a labyrinth. Or maybe its just a really big and complicated castle. But I’m wandering and I’m lost and then there’s a man. But he’s not a man. He doesn’t look like a man, that is, but I know he’s a man.”
“What does he look like?” Dan asked, propping a shoulder against the door jam and pulling a notebook from the pocket of his vest.
Aillea frowned. “I’m not sure. He’s big. He looms. His hands are,” she curled her hands into something resembling claws, “large. He’s mostly in shadow. No-” she frowned. “He isn’t in shadow. In the dream I see him clearly but the more I try to focus on him-”
“The more how you see him shifts,” Abe offered. Aillea jerked a surprised look in their direction.
“Yes.” She paused, frowned again. “That is what it feels like.”
“Last night it rained,” Dan prompted, pencil hovering over the page of his notebook.
“Right.” Aillea lifted a hand to grip her shoulder, crossing her arm over her chest in what was likely a subconscious gesture of defense. “Last night in rained. And this morning my coat and my shoes were wet. But,” she lifted her ghost-grimed gaze to Gwen, “I know I didn’t leave the house. My father has an alarm system. He changes the codes and doesn’t share them with me. I can’t leave without setting the alarms off.”
“The alarms didn’t go off?” Ivan frowned.
Aillea looked to him. “No. But my coat and my shoes were wet. So, somehow I was outside. So,” her features firmed, resolve replacing uncertainty, “something happened to me to take me from my room while I slept. And that has to be Magick.”
Gwen lifted her hand towards Aillea, leaving it hovering several inches from the other woman’s whitened knuckles where her hand rested on her shoulder. “May I?”
Aillea eyed Gwen’s hand. Questions flitted across her features then her mouth firmed and she nodded. “In for a copper in for a gold, huh?”
Gwen smiled, projecting reassurance, and gently laid her fingers over Aillea’s knuckles, her Magick touching the other woman before her fingers did. Again Aillea visibly relaxed, drew a deep breath, released it on a sigh. Once she did so, she resolutely met Gwen’s gaze. “Am I being attacked by Magick?”
It was Abe that answered. “I’m not sure if attacked is-” they focused their gaze on a point about six inches to the left of Aillea, on the opposite side to where Gwen sat. Something they saw there had them nodding. “I think you are being influenced by Magick. Dan?”
Dan looked to Abe.
“What do you see when you look at Aillea?”
Dan stepped further into the room, stopping near Ivan’s chair and peering at Aillea. “Nothing. What am I missing?”
“It’s more what she’s missing.”
Aillea gasped. Gwen felt fear course under the woman’s skin and she quickly adjusted the flow of her Magick into Aillea’s hand as she darted a look at Abe that threatened some kind of retribution if Abe didn’t walk just a little more carefully.
“It’s okay,” she said to Aillea, “my friend is young. They don’t always explain things well.”
Abe startled, their mouth forming a near perfect ‘oh’. “Oops,” they muttered, looking to the side before refocusing on Aillea. “There’s nothing wrong.” The look they gave Dan said that there was but something in their earnest expression or tone seemed to be enough to assuage the fear that had risen in Aillea. “You are right, though. You have been exposed to Magick recently.”
Aillea drew a sharp breath. Her wide-eyed gaze darted to Gwen who did her best to project reassurance at the other woman. Her best was pretty damned good because Aillea relaxed again.
Dang it, Gwen gave an internal frown. This poor woman was going to have a Major Crash after this. There was only so much emotional manipulation anyone’s psyche could handle and it kinda felt like Aillea had been being manipulated way before Gwen had first clasped her hand. She made a mental note to return to talk to Aillea and do what she could to help after they found Gryphon. If nothing else, if whoever their enemy was had been messing with Aillea in her dreams that meant she was a target and was likely going to need protection. Gwen made a mental note to speak with Ivan about that after they left. For now she needed to focus on the issue in the moment, though, which was to reassure Aillea and get out of there before they did more harm to her than had already been done.
Pulsing reassurance and love into Aillea, Gwen gave her a steady look in which she projected the same because it didn’t hurt to double-dip. “We’re going to fix this. I won’t say no one is going to hurt you again but its going to be over my dead body.”
“Mine too,” Ivan gritted, his tone as tight as the set of his jaw. Big Damned Hero. Sometimes that instinct in him made Gwen crazy but right now it made her smile. Inside. Outside she kept up the reassuring look.
“You don’t know me.” Aillea looked down, then back up with eyes bright with tears. “Why would you help?”
“Why wouldn’t we?”
Aillea cocked her head, apparently not expecting Gwen’s immediate response.
“People don’t do things just because.”
“Don’t they?”
“No.”
Gwen shrugged and gave Aillea’s hand a squeeze. “We do.” She shifted her attention to Dan, lifting her chin in the direction of the front door. “We should go now.” Before Aillea refocuses on what Abe slipped, she thought.
With that she rose and delicately disengaged from Aillea. “Thank you. What you told us helps.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t say much.”
“That’s okay.”
“Actually,” Dan started, drawing Gwen’s gaze. She tried to project her ‘want to leave’ at him hard. He seemed to catch it. It wasn’t like she didn’t throw it hard enough. And yet-
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Dan asked.
Gwen sighed and sank back down to the settee, taking Aillea’s hand in hers. “What my friend means is, we could really use some information. There’ve been abductions of different people and we haven’t been able to figure out why them. We have some ideas but we could really use the answer to a few questions to help us figure out why you.” As Aillea’s shoulders stiffened, Gwen hastened to add, “It may help us make sure that this stops.”
Aillea’s shoulders curled forward then she straightened them and met Gwen’s gaze head on. “Okay.”
Rather than turning to Dan, she answered Gwen instead. “I have three brothers and two sisters.”
Dan grunted and his pencil scritched on the paper of his notebook. “Three and three.” He made another grunt, this one flavored with interest. “Do they live here?”
“No. They are all older. They have their own lives. Its just me and my father.”
“Did you consider offering to take on your father’s debt?”
Aillea’s gaze jerked to Dan. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t.” Dan shook his head, made another note. “If your father offered to get you a gift, what would you ask for?”
“We don’t have any money. I would tell him I didn’t need a gift. He’s,” her void stuttered and she visibly swallowed, “enough of a gift.”
“But if he pressed?”
“I suppose I’d ask him for something small. Maybe some flowers? I like flowers.” Aillea frowned and her gaze went inwards. Then in a dreamy voice she offered, “I think that there was a garden in the dream. A beautiful garden. And a rose.”
Her voice trailed off under the sound of Dan’s pencil busily scraping over the paper.
“Is there anything else you remember from the dream?”
Aillea looked down at her hand clasped in Gwen’s. “There were a lot of rooms. Like I said. It was a complicated castle. I think one had mirrors?” She looked up at Dan, gauging his response, which was to busily keep on writing. “I think one was one of those places where they have exotic birds?”
“A zoo?” Ivan prompted
“No.” Aillea shook her head. “One of those fancy places with the exotic plants and trees where birds fly around.”
“A menagerie,” Abe offered.
Aillea nodded again, this time in the affirmative. “I think so.” She trailed off, looking down again. “Maybe. Its all very-”
“Dreamlike?” Gwen suggested.
“Yes.” Aillea looked down again, clearly pushing her memory. “There was a room with portraits. One of them looked like Mr Ricci. I remember that clearly.” She looked up at Gwen. “Why do I remember that so clearly when other things are hazy?”
“Dreams.” Gwen shrugged like ‘what ya gonna do’. “If you try to remember they just fade away. Don’t push yourself.” She flicked a quick look at Dan, giving him a silent “hurry it up”.
Dan closed his notebook and shoved it into his vest pocket. “That should be enough.” He turned to the hall, then turned back like he’d thought of something. “Thank you for sharing that.” His tone was gruff but then his tone was always gruff. At least he was trying, Gwen thought. She squeezed Aillea’s hand one more time then pulled hers away.
“Thank you. We’ll show ourselves out, okay?”
Ivan and Abe expressed their thanks to Aillea as well and then they all trooped to the door. Aillea followed them and just as Gwen was stepping out onto the stoop the other woman called out. “Gwen?”
Gwen turned to look at Aillea. “Yes?”
“He keeps asking if I love him.” At Gwen’s confused look Aillea expanded. “The man in the dream. He keeps asking if I love him. I haven’t told him yes.”
Her tone held an edge of sadness and regret, Gwen felt compelled to dispel. Turning she took two steps back and placed a hand on Aillea’s arm. “It’s okay. If you had you might not be here to tell us the story.”
Gwen frowned as the words came out of her. She hadn’t formed the thought but there was something that felt right about this. Magick? Maybe.
“You really think so?”
Gwen nodded. “Yes. I do.”
“What do I do if I dream again? Or, whatever is happening to me? What if it happens again?”
“Don’t tell him you love him.” Gwen shrugged. “I think.”
Aillea nodded and grasped the edge of the door. “Okay. Thanks.”
Gwen waited until Aillea closed the door to look at Dan, already down the stairs and standing on the walkway, his hands in his pockets and his mind apparently lost somewhere in thoughtsville.
“What was with those questions?”
Ivan and Abe trailed behind Gwen as she stomped down the stairs and approached Dan.
Dan didn’t leave off contemplating the air and his voice had that ‘lost in thought’ thing going on. “She’s Beauty.”
With that he started walking down the sidewalk. Gwen hurried to catch up, trusting Ivan and Abe would be right behind.
Gwen matched her pace to Dan’s. “Why?”
Dan tugged his earlobe. “The birds. The mirrors. The portrait of the Prince. Those are all details from the original Beauty and the Beast. That girl has been dreaming the story. Or not dreaming.”
“Not dreaming,” Abe offered, coming up on Dan’s other side. “There’s Magick around her. And there’s a piece of her that’s been damaged. Or,” they brushed their bangs away from their eyes, buying a moment, before continuing “or altered.”
“Come again?” Ivan asked from just behind Abe.
Abe turned to walk backwards along the sidewalk so they could talk direct to Ivan.
“She’s,” they waved vaguely, spinning their hand on the air, “parts of her aren’t her. They are someone else.”
“Careful,” Ivan grunted, dropping a hand on Abe’s shoulder to steer them around a hole in the sidewalk. He used his grip to try to turn Abe around. “Why don’t you walk forward. I can hear fine from back here.”
“Okay.” Abe shrugged, turned, and then continued. “So, yeah, someone is trying to change her. Or they are changing her.”
“Is that a thing?” Dan asked to which Abe shrugged.
“I wouldn’t have said so but, yeah, that’s the best I can come up with for what I saw. Aillea is made up of Aillea things,” again they waved their hands in emphasis. “She’s smart. She’s loyal. She’s self-sacrificing which is going to go bad for her, probably. And that’s all over her. Again and again. It makes her up. That’s why I asked what you saw.” Abe looked to Dan who grunted.
“I haven’t hammered that down yet.”
“But you are still working on it?”
“It’s harder than I thought.”
“Nothing cool is ever easy.” Abe shrugged. “So, anyways. There’s like those concepts compounded and compressed and making her up. About, I’d say, maybe ninety percent. It should be one-hundred percent. Because people are,” they paused and their face worked, like they were struggling for words, “they are. They aren’t ninety-percent them and ten-percent someone else.”
A thought occurred to Gwen. “What about people with dissociative identities?”
“What’s that?” Ivan asked.
“It’s a mental condition. Used to be misrepresented as multiple personalities.”
“Oh. Yeah. That.”
Gwen grumble. Yeah, that. Everyone knew the term “multiple personalities” but not so much on the actual diagnosed disorder which was way more complex than “split personalities”. Ugh, she really hated that one. Whatever. Now was not the time to educate. She’d put a pin in that.
“Oh,” Abe’s tone took on a note of interest, “I’ve seen people with that. Not many.”
“It’s fairly rare. Maybe one percent of the population presents. Really more like point oh one percent.” And there she went educating. Ugh. Gross.
“Okay.” Abe nodded vigorously, their poof of bangs emphasizing their exuberance. “I’ve seen several people with it. And that’s part of who they are. Its part of what makes them them. It’s repeated all the way down in them and it doesn’t shift depending on who they are at the time they are talking to you. That’s not what I saw on Aillea. Whatever it is that changed her isn’t normal. She isn’t supposed to be,” they flicked their fingers, “that.”
“What is changed?” Dan asked.
Abe’s expression went inward for a moment. “It’s not even totally that she’s changed. Well, not that what makes her her is being replaced. More like some stuff is being made more dominant.”
“Like?”
“The self-sacrifice. Gentleness.” They rubbed their neck, then flicked their fingers out in emphasis. “Curiosity. Empathy. I think they were all there before, because there’s too much of them there, but I think that they are being pulled out, molded and enhanced, so she takes on those traits more than the others that make her her.”
“This shit is still weird to me.” Ivan said.
“Also confusing.” Gwen slanted a look at Dan. “Are you following this?”
“Yep.” Dan nodded. “Following. Understanding is coming slower.”
Gwen rubbed her eye socket with the heel of her hand. “It makes my brain hurt.”
“Yep.”
“You think it makes your brain hurt? Try to explain it.” Abe said, tone droll. “I understand it because I understand it but I don’t understand how to explain it so someone else can understand.”
Gwen slashed a look across Dan at Abe. “You make my brain hurt.”
To which Dan replied, “Yep.”
“What she said about him asking if she loved him. Did I give the right answer?”
There was a long delay then Dan nodded. “Yep. Think so. Beast asks Beauty that every night. She doesn’t say yes for most of the story. Might be Aillea not saying yes kept her safe or was the reason she’s still home and not somewhere needing to be rescued.”
“Oh. Okay.” Gwen nodded. She should have left it there but something niggled at her. “Why do you think that?”
Dan shrugged. “Not sure.” He slanted a glance to Abe. “Do you think so?”
Abe screwed their mouth to the side in thought. “I’m not sure. But its a theory.”
“What are we going to do to protect that girl?” Ivan asked from behind.
“We’re going to find the Beast,” Dan said, conviction absolute.
Enter The Woods 