11:4
Abe’s exit broke the momentary freeze tag, uh, moment around Ben. Suddenly everyone was up and moving, or around and moving, or just moving.
Ben’s gaze very slowly tracked as Gwen and Prairie jumped off the bed, one on each side, and approached him. Together they leveraged him up into a sitting position against the headboard and then Prairie did an efficient examination of him. She checked his pupillary responses. He blinked when she told him to. She checked his pulse at the wrist and neck and then laid her head on his chest to listen to his heart and lungs.
Once she was satisfied with that, she moved on to various other things that Kim didn’t know what to call. Medical stuff. She’d go with medical stuff.
Meanwhile Sass climbed up Ben’s chest and settled on his shoulder where it proceeded to poke him in the ear several times. Ben didn’t twitch. The lack of movement gave Kim pause. The utter stillness in a person who was rarely ever still, except for the whole coma thing, just felt wrong. Wronger? Something. Not right.
“Sass,” Patti muttered, “stop poking him.”
Sass turned to look at Patti and chirped. Or something. Like chirping.
This was an entire situation that went beyond definitions, so Kim was finding “or something” to be her fallback.
MF McGee, who honestly she’d partially forgotten in the excitement, hop, skipped, and jumped from the far end of the bed to land firmly where Ben’s lap probably was. Thank fuck fire dogs had no substance or Kim suspected they would definitely have found out the level of Ben’s mobility in that moment. As it was his gaze went from Prairie to the fire dog in his lap.
Ivan’s response was a little more, well, mobile. But, ya know, if a guy didn’t defend his bestie’s junk what else would he not defend?
Anyhow, Ivan dived for the bed, hands out in MF’s general direction. What, Kim, wondered did he expect when doing so she couldn’t guess but it should have been seared fingertips. Which it was. Seared fingertips. Because MF might be in the “don’t burn Ben” mindset, bless its little fiery heart, but clearly someone diving on it was just a bridge too far. A burned bridge too far.
Ivan fell back, fingers pressed to his chest, and gave MF a hurt look which MF clearly did not give two fucks about because it gave Ivan a Look then spun three times in Ben’s lap before settling into a fire dog croissant, head under ass. Because made of fire. No backbone. At least that was Kim’s take on the whole thing.
Dan walked slowly around the bed, book in hand, pen at the ready, making a few little notations as he moved. Dempsey, meanwhile, retrieved his cards, including the Hanged Ben which was dangerously close to MF’s croissant, wrapped the deck in its fabric, and stuffed it back in his bag. Once that was done, he pushed up from his knees and stepped back several steps so he wasn’t quite such a looming presence over the bed and those clustered around it.
Siobhan came over and plopped down next to Kim on the foot of the bed before turning and watching Prairie do her assessment of Ben’s condition. She had a very small, very satisfied smile on her lips. One Kim felt compelled to comment on.
“Don’t look so smug,” she said from the side of her mouth.
“Not smug.”
“Yeah.” Kim gave that a mikro then added. “You did good.”
Siobhan turned her head slightly to look at Kim. “I did, didn’t I?”
“So smug.” Kim ruined the comment by snorting through her nose. “I’m glad you figured it out.”
“Same.”
Before she could say more Abe came traipsing back into the room, the hem of their cassock sweeping the floor like a puppy’s tail. Directly behind them strode Sunny, Last unknown.
The first time Kim saw Sunny – eyes dry, head floaty, limbs heavy with memory her mind could not recall – She’d kinda thought she was hallucinating. What? It happened.
It was the eyes.
Sunny had eyes the color of citrines. Not brown or golden brown or hazel. Yellow. Like citrines. And when the light hit right they glowed. Not “oh, look the color changed.” Glowed. And the whole effect was enhanced by the way her light blonde hair kind of burst around her face like a golden nimbus, catching and diffusing light so the strands seemed to dance with energy.
It wasn’t that she had otherwordly beauty. Her features kind of teetered between cute and stunning. The cute came from apple cheeks and a slightly upturned nose. The stunning could be attributed to her pale gold-toned skin that somehow seemed to glimmer like it was dusted with mica or flecks of actual gold or something utterly Magickal and unique to her person.
The eyes, the hair, the shimmer to her skin all combined to make Sunny seem the embodiment of a ray of sunshine. Which might explain her name or might just be a fun coincidence. Her personality matched making it easy to warm up to her.
Warm up. Sunny.
She killed herself.
She’d had a few days to become partially immune or immured or whatever “im” word fit to Sunny’s impact but still there was always a moment of adjustment when they met.
I mean compared to the next person through the door Sunny was only kinda staggering.
Literally no one could compare to Maise. There was definitely a reason she was the prototype for the legendary Beauty. Red haired, porcelain skinned, with eyes a green that made star emeralds dim. Looking at her was kinda like looking at the sun. Left you blinking and unsure of where you stood in a world swimming in stimuli
Unlike with Sunny the few days had done nothing to dim Maise’s shine.
Kim was about as Ace as you could get and she felt the compulsion to have Maise’s babies. However that would work. She had no idea how Dan didn’t lose his mind working close with Maise learning Wordcraft which was apparently a term for what his Magick did.
Might have something to do with the large man looming behind Maise. Regan, her husband, was arguably as ridiculously attractive as Maise.
Tall enough to duck coming through doorways, broad across the shoulders while narrow in the waist like a swimmer or the aquatic god said swimmer worshipped, chestnut hair falling around a face full of rough angles that screamed carved by a master sculptor. High cheekbones, thick brows, lips just this side of too wide, and eyes the color of dark amber that complimented his hair color with a bright ring of green around the pupils. Seriously this place they came from didn’t have a single ugly person? Or even an average one?
Regan narrowed his gaze on Kim, shifting his attention between her and Maise.
Kim averted her eyes, studying her knuckles like they held the answers to all the mysteries of the universe.
“Are you coveting my wife, arsonist?”
Geez, you set one little trash pile on fire and suddenly that’s all you were to the guy. She put it right out. And it was a very small trash fire.
“No! No.” She shrugged. “Maybe?”
“Regan, stop teasing our guest.” Maise threw an elbow back, eliciting a grunt from the big guy.
Regan looked down at his wife, the severe line of his mouth softening into a smile. “Do I have to?”
Maise turned her face up to him and grinned. “Aye, ya do.”
Regan lifted his brows then made a point of looking around the bedroom. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Ivan asked.
“Out of this room. It’s too small for so many of us.”
“You could,” Patti paused and then gestured to the door with a finger, “leave.”
“It’s my house.”
“As you have established at least twenty times.”
“And I’ll do it twenty more.”
Sunny cleared her throat. Loudly. Her “sidetracking,” was met with raised brows from Regan. She raised hers in an equally dramatic fashion then turned to Ivan. “We put off this conversation until Ben was better. He’s better.”
Ben grunted and Sunny shifted a look at him. “Enough. Better enough. Time is short and we’d like to address the questions I’m sure you all have. So, as Regan said, this room is small and we’d like to include a few of the others, so let’s move this to the parlor.”
“Which parlor,” Patti asked, “my last count there’s at least three.”
“The front parlor should be big enough,” Maise offered, making no attempt to counter Patti’s statement. Which wouldn’t have made sense since Maise and Regan’s house did seem to have three rooms that might be considered parlors by people who had houses with parlors.
“And the front parlor is which one?” Patti asked.
“The one in the front,” was Regan’s grunted reply.
“Oh, that tells me so very much.”
“The room with the stained-glass side lamps and the green-upholstered furniture.”
Patti nodded. “Got it.”
With that she rose and started for the door. No one else moved immediately so when she got to the hall she turned around and jabbed her head over the threshold. “Coming?”
“Yeah, I am done with this bed,” Ben shoved his hands against the mattress and started to rise only for his knees to wobble. Ivan moved fast to clamp a hand to Ben’s shoulder, easing him back to sit on the bed.
“Man, you’ve been mostly dead for days. Don’t push it.”
Ben rolled his eyes. Ivan’s expression said he was not impressed. Then they both snickered. “Fine.” Ben raised a hand to Ivan. “Help me up.”
Ivan shifted his grip on Ben’s shoulder. “Push up.”
Before Ben could comply Dan moved to his other side and wrapped a hand around Ben’s upper arm. “Try now.”
Ben grunted and did something like rising but then his knees buckled and he tipped forward. Only Dan and Ivan’s grips kept him upright.
“Yeah, that’s not going to work,” Ivan said then without preamble stooped and scooped Ben up in his arms.
Ben reared his head back to glower at the side of Ivan’s face. “Man.”
“Man,” Ivan replied in a bland tone. “Do I need to repeat mostly dead? Let me do this, m’kay?”
Ben rumble grumbled then nodded. “Fine. But don’t expect a sugar cube, Nelly. I’m all out.”
Ivan rolled his eyes, shook his head, then hefted Ben high enough to not restrict his gait and headed out of the room. Everyone else rose and followed. It took, no joke, a solid two meros to travel from the bedroom to the parlor. That’s how big the house was.
The parlor had two couches, situated in an L-formation with three cushioned armchairs making a vaguely square shape in the center of the room around a large marble topped coffee table. Behind one of the couches was a fireplace big enough to cook a pig or maybe even an ox in. For all Kim knew that had been its purpose at one point. Who knew.
To either side of the fireplace were two more armchairs and besides these were French doors letting in late afternoon sun. After these were built-in bookshelves that nearly reached the high ceiling. The adjoining walls also had similar shelves although these were set up in such a way to make spaces where small statues, metal bowls, and other knickknacks of random provenance that probably cost more than Kim’s cottage nestled. Along these walls were placements of several more armchairs. All together there was enough seating in the large room that everyone could find a seat without resorting to using the bench from the grand piano situated in the corner to the right of the entry.
Ivan sat Ben in the corner of one of the couches then moved to grab one of the chairs from the other walls and moved it closer to the main seating area. Seeing this Dan, Dempsey, Patti, and Prairie started doing the same until there was a dual circle of seating where everyone could be close enough to hear and participate in whatever was about to occur.
That settled everyone moved to find a seat with Gwen making a point of taking up residence beside Ben so she could lay a hand on his thigh. He slanted a glance at her and she gave him a searching look. He mouthed “I’m okay.” She lifted her brows and kept her gaze steady. He rolled his eyes and amended, “Kind of,” to which she nodded before settling back against the couch while maintaining her light grip on his leg.
Regan, Maise, and Sunny sat on the other couch. Rapunzel and Jack wandered in a moment later and sat in two of the armchairs in the outer ring of seating.
Maise turned to look at them. “Is anyone else coming?”
Rapunzel shook her head. “Maureen is at the market. She said we couldn’t sit around indefinitely waiting for Ben to wake up.” She leaned forward to look at Ben. “No offense.”
Ben grunted and shrugged. Then Rapunzel continued, “Nyx went with her. And Cerise is out on Thunder. I sent word to the stable to ask her to join us when she returns.”
Ben turned his head to Gwen and mouthed, “Stable?”
Gwen nodded and mouthed back, “Stable,” then spread her hands, indicating a large space, “Much bigly.”
“Well, shit,” this time Ben’s response was out loud. It drew a laugh from Jack.
“Generations can really help build a nice portfolio,” he said.
Siobhan shifted in the chair closest to Ben’s couch. “Generations?”
Rapunzel shook her head and shot Jack a look. “Jack, you’re rushing the ending. Again.”
“Didn’t hear you complaining last night.”
Rapunzel rolled her eyes, then laughed. “Dick.”
“Also–”
“Didn’t hear you complaining last night,” Regan finished Jack’s response while sporting a put-upon look.
Sunny snorted then looked at Siobhan, picking up the thread.
“Generations. But first of all,” she looked to Ben. “I believe introductions are in order. The glowery man is Regan.” Regan glowered. “Next to him is his wife, Maise. I’m Sunny,” she pressed a hand to her chest. “Behind you is Jack and I believe you’ve met Rapunzel already. This is Maise and Regan’s home but many of us live here when not traveling. There are more of us–”
“Us?” Ben asked.
“Us.” Sunny waved a hand. “We–” She pivoted to look to Rapunzel. “How much did you tell them previously.”
“Not much?” Rapunzel frowned. “Uh,” she looked inward then started counting on her fingers, “We created the world. The Three. Historical stuff. Nothing about us in the here and now. Or pretty much anyone’s names beyond The Three because that just seemed like clutter when I had to keep it succinct or brain pudding.” She curled her lips over her teeth and nodded. “Definitely, definitely addressed brain pudding and the need to keep succinct because brain pudding.”
“You’re repeating yourself,” Jack said to which Rapunzel turned and gave him a look.
“Well, yes. I am. So insightful, darling.”
Sunny sighed, drawing attention back to her. She pressed her hands together in front of her mouth then heaved a long sigh. “Let’s not muddy the waters going into details that come later in the narrative. We can get to introductions at a later time. We realize you have questions we have answers to. We think its best if you ask them rather than us providing information that may not serve you.”
“Because there’s only so much we can learn before,” Patti flailed her fingers next to her temple, “sploot?”
“Yes.”
“So,” Ivan leaned in, “you created our world.”
“Yes.”
“As a prison.”
“Yes.”
Gwen tilted her head. “Then why us?”
“Excuse me?”
“Not us, us,” Gwen’s look encompassed the group, “Us in the general sense of all people. Why have a population in this prison? It feels cruel.”
“Cruel?”
“Like in the olden days when women would give birth to kids in prison and the kids would stay with them. Those kids didn’t do anything.”
Patti frowned. “That was a thing?”
Prairie nodded. “Yes. It was.”
Maise frowned. “We didn’t make that choice.”
“What?” Patti squinted her eyes at Maise.
“Rapunzel explained ARFA to you?”
“Yes.” Patti’s gaze shifted. “Sort of. It’s a thing called a computator?”
“Computer and that’s too simplistic though valid, I suppose. ARFA is more a Reality Engine.” The way Sunny emphasized the words put them in capitals.
“Engine?” Ivan leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Like a mechanical device? That powers something?”
Jack answered. “Alters something. Generates change. And the more it generates the more residual energy, like waste, it creates.”
Patti squinted. “I’m lost.”
“I think we aren’t explaining it well,” Jack said. “And we’re going on tangents that are irrelevant to this discussion. I could say a lot of words that amount to ARFA is less machine and more a vast consciousness with nearly infinite power to create.”
Ivan cocked his head. “A consciousness?”
“Yes.”
“So, it thinks?”
“At first to a lesser extent, it was developed to calculate multitudes of scenarios it would be hard for organic life forms – like us – to do in multiple lifetimes. As it did so it created immense amounts of energy, converted in its processing, and with this energy we believe it created a persona for itself that it reused the waste creative energies to develop something like sentience that eventually became true sentience that transcended the initial persona. Boiling it down it generated a reality in which it had independent thoughts and we believe feelings as it expressed as much through interactions with us.”
Gwen lifted her hand and pressed her temple. “Brain already hurts. Turning to soup.”
Patti made explode-y motions with her fingers next to her temples.
“When did it achieve sentience?” Dan looked up from his book to ask.
“We suspect around the time the prison was realized and released from the sandbox.”
“Sandbox?” Siobhan asked.
“What I believe you refer to as,” Jack made air quotes, “The House.”
“Why sandbox?”
“It’s where we built prototypes, tested them, broke down what didn’t work and reused the materials. Like a child building castles in the sand.”
“And eventually the castles built themselves,” Sunny added. “Which lead to a population.”
“Which,” Jack picked up, “actually was a good thing. Your people’s interactions with the world produced change and energy which fed the engine. Self-perpetuating. Otherwise this reality may have failed.”
“Would have failed,” Regan interjected. “Until ARFA injected a native population our experiments consistently failed.”
Maise gave a gentle smile. “This is a lot of words that hopefully answer your question?”
“And lead to more.” Dan tapped his pen against his closed book. “A lot more.”
Siobhan lifted a finger. “Magick?”
Maise cocked her head. “What about it?”
“Why?”
“Why Magick?”
“Energy. And conversion. We, all of us, in our world can manipulate energy. It’s as innate as breathing. And each of us involved in this project incorporated our abilities into creating this reality. We were the original spark that started this engine if you expand the metaphor.”
Ivan leaned forward more. “That explains your Magick but what about ours? If everyone where you come from can do it why is only a percentage of our populace capable of it?”
“Diffusion?” Ivan nodded like that made sense but lucky for the rest of the room, or who knew maybe only Kim, Jack expanded. “I believe. It’s all theory but I do know that every form of Magick represented here branches from the abilities of those of us who created this world.”
Kim raised a finger. “Put a pin in that, I want to go back to that but you still didn’t explain why not everyone.”
“Diffusion. Take a dye. Drop it into a body of water. It disperses and as it does so it gets thinner and weaker until eventually it doesn’t affect what it touches. But for those close to the drop point-”
“They get dyed.” Siobhan nodded like this all made sense to her. It probably did what with the alchemy and potion making and stuff.
“Yes.”
“But,” Kim pressed, “what decides who gets dyed?”
Jack shrugged. “God? ARFA? Pure luck?”
Gwen rolled her lips over her teeth. “ARFA isn’t God?”
This time Sunny replied. “Uh, no! There is a God and I assure you it is not a machine. Or sure not one of our making.”
“But,” Gwen pressed, “you created this world. Or ARFA did? And God is the creator.”
“And someone or thing created our world. Who knows how far that cascade goes but there had to be a source – an original creator. God. Or, so I believe.”
Silence followed this as the group seemed to pause to digest the information fed to them so far. Just when the silence was threatening to stretch into painful territory, Dan and Siobhan spoke up at once.
“The strings?” Siobhan asked at the same time Dan said, “Branches of Magick?”
Sunny gave each an encouraging smile. “One answer leads to the next, actually. So,” she turned to Dan. “I’ll start with yours and then,” she nodded at Siobhan, “move into yours. If that’s okay?”
Both Dan and Siobhan nodded.
Looking down at her hands in her lap, Sunny collected herself a moment before returning her gaze to Dan. “The branches of Magick in this world all come from one of us.” She tapped her hand to her chest. “One of the members of the team that created this reality, along with the three it was built to contain. I’ll start with the three prisoners and then move out.”
Siobhan leaned in, a notebook held at an angle in her lap, and her pencil furiously scratching as she took notes. Dan, beside her, did similar in one of his many books.
“So, you have Mary who gave this world Life and Death and gave individuals such as you, Prairie,” she looked to Prairie and nodded, “various abilities that incorporate those things. Geppetto is what we call a Manipulator. He can manipulate the energy of creation which includes people as well as objects and really the essence of what forms reality. Abe,” she looked at the young artist, “your ability to interact with – as I believe you call them words – the essence of what defines reality comes from him.”
“Aleric has the ability to manipulate emotions and minds and has projecting empathy. Gwen,” she turned to Gwen, “your abilities stem from his.”
Gwen curled her lips over her teeth and nodded.
“You may also have a dibble of my abilities,” Sunny pressed a hand to her chest. “I have power over bodies and minds, largely focused on healing, but our abilities are more diverse than you are used to in this world so we cover more than just a narrow focus. I heal but I can also, if I put some effort into it, control minds and bodies. Sort of elements of manipulation but it’s like a minor ability.”
“That’s the thing. Many of our abilities have elements of manipulation because we all, in some way, manipulate reality. Or,” she cast a look toward Maise, “I don’t know I’m explaining this as well as I could.”
Maise nodded then picked up the thread. “Whether you call it reality or truth or science in the sense that science makes sense of that which we encounter in the world, our abilities manipulate that. We, in essence, redefine truth.”
Regan leaned in, planting his elbows on his knees and linking his hands. “Confused yet?”
“Uh,” Patti nodded, “Yeah.”
This got a grin from the usually taciturn man. “I grew up understanding it and I still sometimes can’t wrap my mind around it. I’m a pretty simple guy, deep down.” When Maise scoffed at this Regan turned his head so he could lift his brows as his wife. “I am. Cut and dry. Black and white. Works better for me. Theory is my wife’s strong suit which is why I usually let her explain but I think maybe cut and dry, black and white might sit better in your mind to start.”
Patti nodded emphatically then shifted her gaze to Sunny. “Manipulate minds and bodies. Is that where my mojo comes from?”
“Only in part.” At Patti’s confused look Sunny expanded, “Not all Magick comes from a single source. Yours comes from Sirena who controls water, waves, the tide, rhythms, and sounds. I may have missed a few, but that’s the basics. Aleric also utilizes sound, only in his case he uses the rhythm to override people’s control of their bodies and minds which I understand you do not. So you’d lean closer to Sirena but because Aleric’s skills lie in the use of sound too some of your Magick comes from his contribution to the world.”
Regan grunted and leaned in again. “This is taking too damned long. Here’s the bullets.” Regan turned and pointed at Dan. “Maise uses words-”
Maise tapped her husband’s arm. “Words.”
Regan shook his head at her. “What I said.” He looked at Dan again, “Maise uses words to interface with the reality ARFA created. So do you. You,” he turned and speared a finger in Ben’s direction, “bend light and dark. It forms a kind of camouflage. Our friend Chrys was a damned fine thief using those skills. Probably still is though,” he grumbled under his breath, “she insists she doesn’t practice her,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “art any longer.” Shifting to Ben’s right he pointed at Ivan. “You transform things. Get that from a guy named Magus.”
Siobhan titled her head to look over at Rapunzel. “You do what I do.”
Rapunzel nodded. “Yes. My skills are around transformation like Magus but more on a micro level that focuses on growth and especially things that can be encouraged to grow or wither like plants. I can change the structure of growing things to enhance their natural properties.”
Siobhan nodded like that confirmed what she’d been thinking. “You have to show me that fast growing seed thing.”
Rapunzel returned the nod. “I can.”
Dempsey crossed his arms. “Me?”
Jack leaned around Rapunzel and tapped a quick salute with fingers to brow. “That would be me. I find stuff. Nothing can hide from me. Including the truth.”
Dempsey grunted and nodded.
Kim lifted a finger. “You missed me?”
Rapunzel turned to her. “We have a friend Babs who manipulates energy. Fire. Light. Electricity which also comes out as magnetism. She can also push energy into objects to make them move.”
“I can’t do all that.”
“No. But you can do some of it. That’s the thing. None of you have all our abilities. But you may have more control of them then you realize or use.” She shrugged. “We’ve been doing this a lot – I mean a lot a lot – longer than you. Nothing says you might not pick up more skills as you age and practice.”
“How many of you are there?” Siobhan asked.
Jack answered this one. “Twenty-four. Twenty-one of us plus The Three.”
Siobhan blinked. “Twenty-four?”
“Twenty-one plus three.”
Ivan cocked his head. “That’s a lot.”
“Takes a lot to make a world. Think about all the Magick you have seen people wield. Did you figure that came from a shallow pool?”
“I’m not sure I really thought about it before this.”
“I did.” Dan leaned back in his chair. “Twenty-four seems,” he shrugged, “right. If you consider all the things that might be attributed to Magick that we take for granted in the world. Light. Dark. Sound. The elements. Life. Death. Growth. Transformation. They can be explained by science or by faith but it’s not a stretch to attribute them to different founts of Magick instead. What are some of the other originators’ abilities?”
Maise smiled at Dan, the expression that of a teacher watching a favorite student grasp a concept. “Animal control, although,” her brow wrinkled, “that’s too simple to explain what Cerise can do. She has enhanced senses. Think of her as the ultimate predator. Hearth magic. That would be Nyx. She is the mother of hedge witches.”
Siobhan nodded like that meant something. Maise moved on too fast for Kim to ask for clarification, but she guessed if they stopped every time something these originators as Dan called them said something confusing they’d never move from this room.
“Mass manipulation which includes gravity. That is to say our friend Fay can fly.”
Gwen’s eyes widened at this. “Fly?”
Maise nodded. “Fly. Regan can compress and divide space.”
Okay, that one got a “huh?” from Kim because, really what did that mean?
“I can create pockets of reality. They can be as small as those things in those stories they call “magic pockets” where thieves stash treasures, like the magic cave in the Aladdin story. They can also be the size of cities – contained in what you’d think of as the space between two air molecules.”
“Air-” Kim dragged out the word, “molecules.”
Regan shrugged. “Science. Just say very little space. My ability is basically to alter and utilize space.”
“Karma and fate which is controlled by one of ours who can grant wishes but at a cost,” Maise continued. “The control of insects, which is different than animals. Earth manipulation. Manipulating time. Illusions. And we start to enter the more esoteric with that. Beyond that we have someone who specializes in trickery. Another who can see and manipulate patterns, which even I struggle to qualify but I believe it is the essence of luck. One of ours can create the strands which bind reality. The very things that Geppetto manipulates. ARFA utilized all of our abilities to create this world.”
Rapunzel made a rude sound. “More like wove parts of us into this creation. We are as locked to this world as you who were born here. We couldn’t leave if we wanted to. Our energy is tied to it and we cannot be unwoven from it.”
“Can’t you?”
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that everyone turned to look at Prairie.
“Can’t we what?” Rapunzel asked.
“Can’t you leave?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But, if your Magick or energy or essence or souls are woven in do you not have more Magick or energy or essence so you could separate from the part that is invested in this world and move on? Like snipping the threads once a tapestry is completed? Was the entirety of who you are used up to create this construct? Were you as damned as the three you created this world to contain when it was created?”
Sunny made a “huh” sound. Maise leaned against Regan’s arm and tilted her head while her gaze went inward.
It was Jack that broke the silence. “Is that how you see us? Damned?”
Prairie’s gaze softened. She looked down and then slowly met Jack’s gaze. “I don’t know. I think maybe damned isn’t the right word. But it just came out.”
“Because it is the right word?”
Prairie shook her head. In a very quiet voice she repeated, “I don’t know. But it seems to me you are as much prisoners as those you built this world to contain.”
Jack reared back, brows high. Rapunzel pressed a hand to his knee and squeezed. Her features were relaxed but there was a tightness around her eyes suggesting feelings beneath the surface of her calm.
“So,” Siobhan broke the uneasy silence. “The Three. What are they doing?”
Sunny blinked several times, then wet her lips. “We suspect you know more than we do as you’ve been involved with what they are doing. Stopping it.”
Siobhan shook her head. “Not what they are doing. More why are they doing it?”
This time Maise responded. “We don’t know. We can speculate. We know the basics which is they have stolen objects from us and are using them to awaken Magick in those without it. But the end goal is unclear.”
Abe leaned over the back of the couch to look at Maise. “The fairy tales?”
“What about them?” Rapunzel asked.
“They–” before Abe could finish their thought Sunny held up a hand.
“Hold on.” She leaned forward, training her gaze on the corner of the couch Ben sat on. “Gwen? Can you please look at me?”
Her question drew Kim’s attention to Gwen who was looking at her hands clasped in her lap. Clasped hard enough her knuckles were pressing against her skin. Her hair fell forward, obscuring the view of her face.
“No,” Gwen drew out the word. “Nope. Can’t. Uh, uh.”
“Gwen,” Sunny repeated, “Please look at me.”
“Uh, uh.”
Sunny stood up abruptly and moved towards Gwen. Maise threw out a hand and grasped Sunny’s arm as she passed and Sunny looked down to meet the question in Maise’s gaze. “I’ve been monitoring everyone because,” she shrugged, “you know I can’t turn it off. Plus if anyone started showing distress, I could respond. And Gwen is showing distress.”
“Not,” Gwen muttered in a belligerent tone in the direction of her knuckles.
Kim rose up to lean over the back of the couch so she could stare at the side of Gwen’s head. Siobhan leaned forward and squinted at their friend.
Sunny shrugged off Maise’s loosened hold and moved to crouch in front of Gwen. She lifted a hand and brushed Gwen’s hair back from her face, grunting at what she saw. Lifting her hand she pressed it to Gwen’s cheek. After a mikro or three Gwen drew in a sharp breath and looked up to reveal streaks of blood under her nose. A quick look at her clenched hands showed a handkerchief blotted with more blood.
“Fuck! Gwen!” Kim snapped. “Seriously. What the fuck?”
Siobhan slanted Kim a quick glance then focused on Gwen again. “Leaving out the curses, what the actual – uh – okay, curses, Gwen?”
Gwen sniffled. Hard. Then unclenched her hands so she could lift her handkerchief to scrub at the blood under her nose. “I maybe took too much?”
“Too much what?”
Gwen shrugged. “Everyone was getting kind of,” she wobbled her head, “upset I guess is a good word and you all were starting to have trouble focusing on stuff and I thought maybe I’d just take some of that out of your heads so you could keep asking questions because it’s important stuff and we need to hear it.”
“Shit.” Dempsey stood up so abruptly his chair threatened to crash behind him. “Are you out of your tiny little mind, Gwen?”
Gwen turned and glowered at Dempsey. “Oh look, someone has an opinion about what I do with my own body.”
“Uh,” Kim interjected before Dempsey could let loose the words that seemed to be rising pretty quickly to his lips if the stormy look suffusing his features was anything to go on, “I have an opinion about what you do with your body.”
Siobhan lifted a finger. “Me too.”
“Same,” Prairie, Abe, and Patti chimed in at almost the same time. There was a rather adamant murine squeak that came in just after Patti.
Siobhan retrieved her bag from beside her seat and pulled a vial from one of the loops on the strap before thrusting it at Gwen. “Drink this. You need to replenish your energy.”
Gwen’s mouth drew up in an indignant pout. “You aren’t my mom,” to which Siobhan raised her brows and retorted, “Might as well be with the amount of times I’ve had to wipe your ass after you made a mess.”
Patti gave a sharp gasp then raised her hand towards Siobhan, “Damn, I did not credit you with such savagery.”
Siobhan didn’t lean in to slap Patti’s hand, but she did give her a bit of a smirk.
Gwen sniffled. “You said ass.”
Siobhan leaned in and tipped the hand Gwen held the vial in up and toward Gwen’s mouth. “I did. Drink.”
Gwen complied then tucked the empty vial into Siobhan’s hand. Almost instantly color began to return to her cheeks. Seeing this Kim leaned back then clapped her hands before pressing them together in front of her mouth and leaning into them.
“You make me crazy.”
Gwen turned slightly to look at Kim. “Make?”
Kim threw her hands apart and gave Gwen a hard look. “Crazier. Whatever.” That said, she looked at Sunny who still crouched in front of Gwen. “I realize there is a lot more for you to tell us, but I suspect we are reaching pudding brain so I think we should stop for now.”
Sunny nodded. “Agreed.”
Dan grunted which drew most of the gazes in the room to him. Seeing the attention riveted on him he shifted his toothpick from side to side in his mouth then looked pointedly at the upright clock near the entrance of the parlor. “Meeting.”
It took a solid twenty mikros for Kim to make the connection. Then her eyes widened. “We have a meeting.” She shifted her gaze to the grandfather clock near the door into the hall. “In fifteen meros. Even if not brain pudding this would need to be tabled.”
“Not like you are going anywhere,” Regan muttered. He winced when Maise’s elbow met his side and he turned to her with an innocent expression. “They are staying here. Can’t seem to get rid of them. So we’ll have other chances to answer more questions.”
Maise smiled, first at her husband and then at the room at large. “That is true. We can revisit this at any point. Maybe I can make notes so we can keep it focused. Or maybe its better just for you to ask questions.” She frowned. “What would be preferred?”
Siobhan nodded then brushed her hands off on her legs and rose from her chair. “I think taking a break gives us time to consider what you have told us and then maybe after we do so we’ll have more questions.”
Maise nodded. “That sounds good. Have a good meeting.”
“Hey,” Rapunzel leaned over Dan sitting next to her to engage Abe on Dan’s other side. “Real quick answer. ARFA took our stories and wove them into the world along with our Magick. Over time they morphed into fairy tales.”
Abe tilted their head. “So each fairy tale character is one of the people who created this world?”
Dan pushed back his chair. “Time. I’d say you can keep talking but we’ll want to know the information so table it.”
Abe’s mouth tightened in an obstinate line for a mikro then they smoothed their features and nodded. “Okay. Have a good meeting.”
Kim, Gwen, Dan, and Siobhan left the room together and headed towards the front entrance of the house leaving the others to sort themselves as they wished. A quick look back into the parlor showed Sunny settling into the seat next to Ben and taking his hand. Abe shifted into Dan’s seat, pulling it forward to be closer to Rapunzel and Jack.
Ivan and Dempsey had their heads close together, probably going over the details revealed in the conversation and Regan rose and offered Maise his hand. Rather than linger any longer, Kim turned and followed her friends out the front door.
Enter The Woods 