13:6
“Oh, good, you’re here.” Regan stood framed in the open doorway. He frowned and muttered, “Didn’t think I’d ever say that.” Then he shook his head and slid his gaze over the group before settlling on Dempsey. “Dempsey, you said you’d help with the repair of the stalls in the stable?”
Dempsey clasped the back of his neck with his big hand. “Yeah. I did.”
“Great. Lou, our barn supervisor, mentioned wanting to do it today.”
“I can go over there. Unless,” Dempsey paused to look around the group. “You need me for anything?”
Siobhan played with the strap of her bag. “We should go over the information we gathered.”
Dempsey shrugged. “Don’t you need to ask Maise about what Al said?”
Dan nodded. “I do.”
“Okay. So do that and then when you have her answer maybe it will give us more questions to ask. Until then I’m going to help in the barn. You can get me when you have all the information so we can go over it.”
Gwen frowned. “You shouldn’t go alone.”
“I’ll be fine. The stable is on the grounds and Regan’s security is good.”
“It is,” Regan interjected. When Gwen turned and glared at him he returned her gaze without flinching. “What? It is.”
“I don’t need a battle buddy to walk to the stable,” Dempsey added, drawing Gwen’s attention again. “There are plenty of people in the stables. I’ll be fine.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a long steady look. Then she sighed and muttered, “Fine.”
“Fine,” he echoed. With a lift of his brows and a lingering look at Gwen, Dempsey turned and headed off in the direction of the stable.
She watched him walk away then turned to look at Regan. “I’m hungry.”
“I’m Regan.”
“You are so funny!” Her tone said he was although maybe not in the classic definition of the word.
Regan stepped back from the doorway, making room for the group, sans Dempsey, to enter the house. Dan drew even with Maise and said something to low to carry. Maise nodded and tucked her hand into the crook of Dan’s arm and together they headed deeper into the house.
“I’m going to grab a pad from my room!” Abe announced and then bounced off in the direction of the sweeping stair.
“Your room,” Regan muttered beneath his breath then shook his head sadly. He lifted his gaze to Ivan. “When did you get your own rooms?”
Ivan gave a slight shrug. “Just sort of happened.”
“Love that. Love it.” Regan rolled his eyes then ambled out of the foyer with his hands dug in his trouser pockets.
“I really am hungry,” Gwen announced.
Kim looked in the direction Dan and Maise had disappeared then shifted to follow Regan’s path out of the space before turning back to Gwen. “I could eat. Might as well as we wait for Dan to get whatever he can from Maise.”
Siobhan walked over to join them. Together they wandered out of the entry and deeper into the house, heading for the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway Kim lifted a hand and tapped on the doorframe.
Cook, that was what the large man with florid cheeks and imposing frame had introduced himself as and they’d been given no other name for him since, lifted his attention from the cutting board on which he was rapidly chopping something green. He laid his large and intimidating knife on the board and then waved them in with his large and intimidating hand, scarred with the small nicks gained over anos of exceptional work in the kitchen.
That permission granted, Kim ventured into the kitchen. Still she paused a good distance from the island Cook stood in front of and clasped her hands behind her. She’d learned the very first day in this house to respect Cook’s territory by keeping her hands to herself. That first day she’d offered to help him with prep and gotten a scowl and a wave of that super intimidating large knife, or one of its many sharp and large friends, in denial.
“Hey, Cook.”
“Hey,” he grunted then went back to chopping.
“Can we get something to eat?”
“I don’t know.” Without stopping the chopping he shifted his attention to pin her with an intense gaze. It was pretty damned impressive. If she tried to chop without looking she’d have far less fingers and blood. “Can you?”
“I love a grammar lesson.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “There’s a chicken in the cold case.”
“Cool.”
“Cold.”
“Funny.” Kim walked over and pulled open the cold case. Her gaze settled on the chicken on the middle shelf. She pulled it out and pivoted to look back at Cook. “Can– May,” she amended, “I use a knife?”
Cook jerked his head to the magnet holding several knives on the side of the cold case. “You probably won’t cut a finger off using one of those.”
“Here’s hoping!”
“Take it into the dining room to carve. There’s plates and cutlery in the sideboard.”
Kim nodded and turned, holding out the chicken for Siobhan to grab. Then she carefully removed a knife from the magnet and held it, point down, beside her before giving Cook a nod and heading for the door out of the kitchen that lead to the dining room. Or one of them. She was pretty sure there were three dining rooms, or at least rooms to dine in, in the big house.
She nearly dropped the knife when a mouse came running across the dining room at them. “Mouse!”
Siobhan and Gwen turned to look where she pointed with the knife. The mouse skid to a stop a short distance from Siobhan and held out a piece of paper.
“Uh.”
Siobhan eyed the paper then stooped down. When the mouse shoved the paper at her, she took it and then stood up. The mouse retreated a few steps then sat down and pinned Siobhan with its dark gaze. When she didn’t immediately and Kim meant immediately look at the paper the mouse peeped and swept its hands at Siobhan. Giving the mouse a nod, Siobhan unfolded the paper.
“Dempsey?”
Gwen crowded in next to her and looked at the paper. “What about him?”
“I don’t know.” Siobhan waved the paper at Gwen then turned to look at the mouse. “Dempsey?”
The mouse gave a sharp peep then rose and scampered towards the door leading out of the room. It dropped and then disappeared under the door. Kim shuddered, the factoid about mice having collapsible skeletons intruding into her mind unbidden.
There wasn’t really time to dwell on that though. Instead, she turned her attention to Siobhan. “That’s all it says?”
“Underlined. Like the start of a story.” Siobhan flapped the paper at Kim then nodded. Her eyes widened and she darted her gaze to the door. “We need to find him.
Kim’s gaze went to the paper. She swallowed hard. “Yeah. Get the others?”
She walked over and started to put the knife on the table next to the chicken then thought better of it, pivoted, and returned to the kitchen to place it on the island next to Cook. When he looked at her she nodded then turned and headed back to the dining room.
“Let’s go.”
As one they turned and ran out of the dining room and back to the entry hall.
“Folks!” Gwen tipped her head back to holler so her voice bounced off the ceiling two stories up. The acoustics of the space amplified the sound, making it carry. Prairie and Ivan poked their head out of the door of the nearest parlor. Then Abe’s voice carried from above.
“What?”
Kim turned and looked at where Abe hung over the wrought iron of the bannister at the top of the stairs.
“Come down!”
The strain in her voice must have conveyed a sense of urgency as Abe immediately came down the stairs with a flap of cassock.
Ben came wandering in from a back hall, hands in pockets. Patti poked her head out from behind Ivan.
“What’s up?”
“Hold on.” Kim held up a hand and an Air Lady resolved in front of her. She sent an image of Dan to the Lady then turned back to her friends as the Lady flowed away in the direction Dan and Maise had left earlier. “We need everyone.”
“You are making me nervous,” Patti said.
“Agreed,” Ivan added.
The group clustered around Siobhan, Gwen, and Kim. Before anyone could probe there was the sound of feet on marble and then Dan and Maise entered in a wash of breeze.
Maise’s gaze went unerringly to Kim. “Kim?”
“We have to find Dempsey.”
“Why?”
Siobhan held up the paper. “A mouse brought this.”
Ben walked over and stared at the paper. “And?”
“It just says Dempsey. Underlined. Like a story.”
Ben took the paper from Siobhan, turning it over and staring at the blank reverse like it would suddenly reveal some secret.
“Stable?” Ivan asked.
With no more conversation, the group dashed for the front door and out into the yard. A sharp turn to the right and they were hauling ass across the large expanse of grass separating the house from the stables.
Kim’s heart thundered in her chest and her lungs burned as she drew deep breaths through parted lips. She wanted to tell herself maybe they were in time but, fuck, she couldn’t believe it.
#
“Lou?”
Dempsey called out as he walked through the dark stable. Regan had said the barn supervisor would be here, but maybe he meant he would be? Dempsey headed towards the back of the barn where Lou had a small office set up next to the tack room.
He’d been back there a few times, discussing what repairs the barn needed. His dad had been a carpenter and he’d come up doing a variety of construction projects so he’d offered his help when he’d found out there was repairs to do. The least he could do considering they’d basically taken up camp in Regan and Maise’s house.
A horse nickered and a head poked out over the edge of a stall. Dempsey paused to pet the horse’s head. “I don’t have any apples or sugar right now,” he murmured to the horse. The horse bumped his palm with his hand, seemingly okay with a pet rather than a snack. Dempsey obliged, rubbing his hand over the horse’s head and down its neck. The benefit of being so tall was he had an easy reach to do so.
As he leaned in he felt a sting against the back of his neck. He frowned. “Man, are there wasps in here?”
The horse nickered again as if in reply, then lifted its head from beneath his hand and craned it over his shoulder. Dempsey turned to see what had captured the horse’s attention. His head swam at the movement. He shook his head and widened eyes that were suddenly cloudy.
When had he had a drink last? Damn. He walked down the aisle of the barn, trailing his hand over the stalls to combat the slight spin in his head that threatened to send him tipping. Must be his electrolyte balance. It had happened before.
He headed for the double doors at the far end of the barn. He’d intended to veer to the left and enter Lou’s office and for a mikro he considered it. Lou might have a drink but he knew there was a hose looped outside the doors so he decided on the doors instead of the office.
The door slid with some small resistance. Nothing he couldn’t power through even with the dehydration doing things to his equilibrium. Fixing the track it ran on was one of the chores he’d volunteered to help with.
The bright sunlight after the dark of the stable momentarily blinded him. Normally he’d wait for his eyes to adjust but another headspin convinced him to just feel his way over to the hose while vision resolved.
“Hey, Dempsey!” Lou’s voice carried from within his office.
Dempsey continued to grope along the outside wall as he called back, “Hey, Lou. Just getting a drink.”
“Good idea. It’s a hot one.”
“It is.” His lips felt like rubber, forming the words in an odd way. Damn, he really had overdone it.
His vision sharpened enough that he could see the side of the barn and the hose spooled against it. He unwrapped enough length that he’d be able to get it to his mouth if he bent down then he twisted the spigot.
Cool water flowed sluggishly from the end, fighting its way through the still coiled hose. He tilted his head to the side to catch the flow and was instantly sorry as his head did another spin, strong enough this time that he tipped into the side of the barn. Closing his eyes against the sensation he gulped at the gouts of water.
It was good. Cool and almost sweet. He closed his eyes for a moment and braced his shoulders against the side of the barn, letting the sun warm his skin as he felt the water hit his stomach. It would be better to drink coconut water or orange juice as they had electolytes but beggars couldn’t be choosers and the hose was right here. He was sure once his body registered he’d had something to drink the headspins would stop. Until then he’d just enjoy the sun.
Actually, maybe he’d sit and wait it out. Standing made him realize how his knees wobbled. Without opening his eyes he slid down the side of the barn and took a seat in the lush grass of the paddock the doors opened to.
He’d probably been sitting there a mero or three when he felt a tug on his bag where it sat against his upper thigh. He tried to lift his hand to check the bag. His hand did not move. What the–?
Next he tried opening his eyes and turning his head to look at the bag. Another no on those actions.
Panic spiked in his blood as he tried to force his eyes open. He tried his arm again. Still unmoving. Tried to twitch a finger but his hand felt heavy like it was covered in drying cement.
Before he could panic further or try to move more a light, feminine voice said, “We don’t have much time! Get the bag!”
The demand was followed by another tug on his satchel.
“It won’t move.” This was a low rumble of a male voice.
“Then just look inside of it.”
“It’s empty.”
“How?” The female voice rose an octave and the bag was tugged hard enough the strap cut into his shoulder. “It is empty.”
“As I said.”
“The seer said the items were in the bag!”
“It’s probably Magick. This one has the ability to find Magick Items, right?”
“Oh.” Another tug. “Let’s take it. You can figure out the Magick.”
“That’s not my skill set.”
“Then we’ll find someone who has that skill set! We need those items, G.”
“I know, Mary.” A long pause then, “Fine. Take the bag. We’ll find someone who can open it.”
Dempsey tried to open his eyes, tried to voice a protest, even tried to clamp his arm against his side to resist as the bag strap was lifted over his shoulder and then his head. It was all useless. He was completely and totally immobilized.
Despair momentarily took up residence in his stomach as he felt the bag leave him. It morphed into a wry sense of humor as about four mikros later he heard a gasp and then felt the weight of the bag settle in his lap. If they’d asked, or he’d been capable of speaking, he’d have told them the bag was bound to him. It wasn’t leaving him and it wasn’t opening for anyone but him. Didn’t matter who they found with Magick similar to his, they weren’t getting into it.
There was the distinct sound of stomping feet and then the woman’s voice said, “Close the door.”
A moment later the barn door closed with a thump, likely hitting harder because of the hitch in the track.
“Okay. We–” the woman’s voice trailed off and then Dempsey felt the bag lift from his lap. “Maybe that was a fluke. You try.”
“Mary–” the man’s voice held a long-suffering tone. When the woman responded hers was strident. “Try!”
“Fine.”
Four more mikros and the bag landed in Dempsey’s lap with a thump.
“Happy?”
“No. We’ll just have to ask him to give us the items.” There was a pout in the woman’s voice. It was loud in Dempsey’s ear as she leaned into his arm with what felt like some fairly impressive breasts. He felt a finger poke his cheek. “He’s really out. How much tranquilizer did you use?”
“Enough.”
“Really? That’s the answer you are going with?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I guess we have to take him with us.”
“You carrying him?”
“No. You are, silly! I couldn’t lift him. I’m just a girl!”
If Dempsey could have laughed he would have because that made him imagine a single one of his female friends saying that. They’d rather pop a hernia trying to heavy lift than a single one of them saying “I’m just a girl!” It told him something about Mary. And the men in her life who’d supported her.
“My knees–”
“Your knees are fine when you’re grabbing snacks in the middle of the night.”
“A sandwich doesn’t weigh as much as an unconscious man. A large, unconscious man.”
“If Allie was here, he’d do it!”
“Well, Allie,” sarcasm practically oozed from the man’s voice, “isn’t here. Why is that?”
“Something happened. I’m not sure what.” Again the pout was apparent in Mary’s voice. “He’s tired. We can handle this without him.”
“We can?”
“Of course! You can use your Magick if your knees don’t work.” Dempsey heard the silent “d’uh”. He also heard that this was a woman that was used to people doing what she wanted. Without question or hesitation. “Or is your Magick broken too?”
“My reserve hasn’t fully recovered from the last use.”
“And your point is?”
“If we need it, I may not be able to call on it.”
“I’m sure that’s just borrowing trouble, Sweetie.” A soft hand brushed over Dempsey’s cheek and then fingers threaded through his hair. “If we don’t have the items this big guy has in his man purse we can’t move forward.”
“Fine. What’s your plan?”
“When he regains consciousness, we’ll ask him for the items.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” The level of confidence Mary exuded was impressive. And really delusional. Maybe even impressively delusional. Dempsey wanted to scoff but, again, paralysis. Which maybe was a good thing as he kind of questioned what Mary’s response would be to him scoffing at her.
About two meros in her presence, while largely incapacitated, and he’d already developed a decent idea of her personality and definitely, definitely, he thought her response to being scoffed at would be—interesting. And potentially painful.
“He’ll be happy to give them to us.”
“He will?”
“He will or he’ll be very sad.” Her voice dropped two octaves and came out a hiss, like that of a snake or the villain in a bad melodrama. If Dempsey had to guess, he’d say that was her real voice and the high-pitched, girlish tone was an affectation adopted for maximum manipulation. “Very, very sad.”
There was a long pause and then the man said in a tone bordering on frustration. “Fine. Step back.”
Something slithered across Dempsey. Multiple somethings. And then he felt constriction a mikro before he was lifted off the ground.
“Careful with the bag!” Mary admonished.
“It’s not like it will be lost if it falls.”
“Still–”
“Fine.”
The word had about it an air of much use. Like it was the man’s preferred response to the woman.
“Where now?”
“Ho–” Mary’s voice trailed off. Then the barn door rattled. And her breath sounded quick and light. “That isn’t good.”
Dempsey heard Siobhan scream, “Dempsey!” Her voice was followed by Patti’s and Gwen’s. They were largely muffled by the closed barn door but he could still hear them. So, apparently, could Mary.
Lou’s voice replied. “He’s outside getting water.”
Again the barn door rattled, the top wobbling against the metal track it ran on.
“Mary–” the man gritted out.
“I still have–” Mary’s voice stopped and then it lifted to a new octave as she hissed, “here. These will work.”
There was a rustle and a rushing sound and then Dempsey was lifted higher and started moving forward.
“This thing will hold us?”
“It did before.”
Air stirred around Dempsey as he moved forward, apparently suspended aove the air by whatever had constricted around him. Threads, his mind supplied, recalling Geppetto’s Magick. He was bound in threads and apparently they were strong enough to haul him through the air.
“Careful!” Mary snapped a moment before Dempsey felt himself tip backwards and his head struck the ground. Guess he ‘spoke’ to soon about the tensile strength of those threads. If his brain wasn’t all wobbly from whatever they’d used to knock him out it sure was now.
Pain radiated from the point of contact. Nausea rose. He’d have clenched his jaw to combat it but, again, paralyzed. All he could do was endure as a wave of bile rose up his throat. Or down his throat as he was distinctly tilted towards the ground where his head seemed to be resting at an angle that was causing a serious crick in his neck.
His weight shifted, putting more strain on his neck. Then bright lights flared behind his closed eyes and a rushing sensation seized him a mikro before everything went black.
Enter The Woods 