“Are you able to share it with us?” asked Symba.
“We agreed that it’s important for you to hear it; we invite your insights as to its meaning,” Evander said.
Cephas clasped his hands together as he listened intently.
As Evander read aloud the words “When the Rock trips the Dancer,” Symba and Quillon looked at each other quizzically.
When Evander was finished, Cephas said, “Now I understand why you inquired about the meaning of my name.”
Evander nodded.
“You’re seeking the Rock and the Dancer to become part of your team,” said Cephas.
“Both Cephas and Quillon’s last name, Roche, are names that relate to the term ‘rock’,” said Symba. “Including Marla, we all took a tumble the other night. Each one of us is a dancer. It’s very confusing.” She tapped her finger against her lip.
Quillon asked, “Is there anything that indicates the team is to be of fairy descent only?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Evander said.
“Although your journey intrigues me, and my first name indeed means rock, I don’t feel I’m the one to join you,” said Cephas slowly. “I’m an established contact for fairies; I provide a haven for them. If I left here, it could take years for someone new to gain that position of trust. We don’t have time. Quillon has already begun the work of building connections amongst our peoples. He’s already fulfilling part of the prophecy. I’ll support you every way I can, but he’s the one you want.”
“Quillon?” Evander asked.
Quillon tapped one foot against his other leg as he formulated his reply. “Your mission and mine seem to be merging. A lot is unclear, but I’m willing to join you. I appreciate your trust and I’ll work to be worthy of it.”
Symba squirmed in her seat, waiting for him to finish. “Does that mean I’m the Dancer? Please let me be! I want to be a part of this. I don’t have wealth or connections like Quillon, but I have passion.”
“You also represent a crossing of our races with your mixed heritage,” said Quillon, placing his hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re an expert hand-to-hand fighter with your ability to see energy and anticipate your opponent’s moves.”
Symba jumped up and pulled something out of her pocket. “I, Symba Amethyst O’Brady, make my vow on this stone that it is my purpose to be a part of this prophecy.”
Treena gaped at her. Brigid’s eyes grew large and Evander shook his head in wonder.
Symba looked concerned. “Did I say something wrong? Are you upset with me?”
Treena smiled. “You spoke just fine. Relax. When Evander mentioned our Queen, I don’t think he mentioned her name: Amethyst.”
Symba gasped.
“Can I see the stone in your hand?” asked Treena.
Symba passed it to her.
Treena pulled a similar stone out of her pocket. “The Queen gave each of us an amethyst for protection against negative energies and to strengthen our spiritual purpose,” said Treena. “I’d say you’re definitely meant to be on this team.”
The others nodded their agreement. Evander suggested that they verify Symba and Quillon by reading the prophecy before them to see if it responded. They all watched, enraptured, at what unfolded. When Evander named the Rock, white light diffused across the scroll and then began to dance. He carefully put the scroll back in its box.
“I’m convinced the prophecy has chosen Quillon and Symba to join us.”
Cephas said, “Now that you’ve expanded your team and it’s clear you’re going to be staying in our world for a while, you three will need identification documents, so you can travel safely.”
“Quillon can help. He’s a master hacker,” said Symba.
“A what?” Treena looked confused.
“A tech whiz. He can navigate through the computer world without the military’s knowledge. He’ll be able to build you profiles and histories that’ll appear to have always been there,” said Symba.
“Convenient guy to have on our side.” Treena gave Quillon a light punch on the shoulder.
“I need to open the Lounge shortly,” said Cephas as he glanced at the wall clock. “I have a secure computer in my office you can use. Printing supplies are locked in a safe behind the painting of a dancer.”
“Shall I clean up in here?” asked Brigid.
“If you don’t mind carrying the dishes out to the kitchen, that’d be a great help,” replied Cephas. “I can hear my staff beginning to work, so they’ll wrap up the leftovers and clean the dishes. Quillon, if you’d follow me, I’ll get you set up in my office. Best to do this immediately before you leave the building.”
“These chocolate croissants look awesome,” said Treena as she went to pick up a tray. “I didn’t have room earlier, but I think I could squeeze one in now.”
“Why don’t we take the whole tray to the office? We’ll be here for a couple of hours as Quillon works his magic,” said Symba as she gathered together a stack of dirty cups.
“Sounds good to me,” said Brigid. “I can make a fresh pot of coffee.”
They ferried dishes and leftover food to the kitchen. The staff gratefully accepted their help. When the coffee was ready, they gathered cups and croissants and joined Quillon in the office. As his fingers flew over the keyboard, he asked questions to clarify height, weight, eye color, and other pertinent details. Gradually, he built their profiles. They each studied their backgrounds, committing them to memory so they wouldn’t get tripped up if interviewed. Two hours later, they walked out with identification papers securely tucked into purses and pockets.
They moseyed down the road back to their hotel where the same officer was on duty. He glanced down at his watch. It was two-thirty in the afternoon.
“Did you enjoy your brunch, Mr. Roche?”
“Very much, Officer. The food was superb and our host delighted us with amusing stories from his years running the Lounge,” replied Quillon amicably. “We hated to leave, but I’m dancing in the competition tonight. My troupe of fellow dancers and I have come back for a bit of a rest. Have there been any unusual occurrences while you’ve been on duty?”
“No, sir. All is as it should be,” the officer said. Then, he asked, “You really like that dance stuff, sir?”
Quillon slipped an arm around Brigid and Symba. “It’s the best exercise around, officer, and women love it.” He winked at the officer as they entered the hotel.
Symba lightly slapped him on the arm once they were inside. “You’re incorrigible!” she laughed.
“Would you like to join us in our room for a drink?” said Evander. “I hate for the party to end.”
The others nodded their agreement. They spoke of inconsequential things like the weather as they walked through the hotel hallway. Inside the room, Treena and Symba checked for and new listening devices while the others found a seat. It was time to plot their next steps.
Quillon asked, “Do you plan to stay here in Queensville? Do you have more contacts here?”
Treena looked up from her inspection. “We didn’t come with specific instructions. We were told to trust the prophecy as it unfolded and to stick together as we moved into the unknown. We’re pretty much setting our agenda as we go.”
“I feel our purpose in Queensville has been achieved. The map of contacts we have doesn’t list anyone else here, although our map is ten years old,” said Evander as he pulled the map out of his knapsack to scan it again.
Symba bounced excitedly on the edge of the bed. “Should we be looking for the rest of those named in the prophecy,” she asked, “or do we move on to another contact, or do we connect with some of Quillon’s people?”
“So far, my experience of the prophecy is that it unfolds as it wants to, when it chooses,” replied Evander, settling comfortably into his seat. “When I sought out Brigid, Treena showed up. When we contacted Cephas, you two ended up in the mix. But I’d like a better grasp of the situation here. There’s also some urgency for us to
try to find those who crossed before us. I vote for connecting with Quillon’s people.”
Quillon gestured for the map and Evander handed it over.
“My family has a residence in a city about four hours from here,” he said, pointing to a location on the map. “It’s where I grew up. We’d be safe there. Outside the city is a mountainous nature reserve where I can contact one of my dwarf representatives, Gerarda. She’s been meeting with fairies and shapeshifters to get a handle on the military operations in this area.”
Treena leaned forward, her elbows on her legs and her hands clasped tightly between her knees. “Does she know the locations of their bases and experimentation centers? We need to free our people. One will be desperate by now for the medication we’ve brought with us. Another is a good friend.”
The protective instincts that made her so effective as part of the Protector’s Force could be heard in the fierceness of her voice.
“I’m hoping Gerarda will share her maps with us,” said Quillon. “But we must be careful not to interfere with the painstaking plans she’s already put in motion. Random raids have been made to gather information and to perform rescues. Gerarda organized them to minimize risk of new captures.”
Brigid’s calm voice rolled over the two men. “During my healing training, whenever I had difficult choices to make, I was encouraged to use meditation to clear my mind, heart, and perception. It has continued to be a helpful practice. The Queen gave us amethysts to guide our purpose. Could we combine the two and use our stones as focal points to meditate on our next steps?”
“We learned to meditate to help us focus in dance,” Symba said. “Sounds like a great idea, Brigid. Don’t you agree?” Symba looked eagerly at the others, who nodded their affirmation.
“I have an extra amethyst in my healing kit, if you’d like one,” said Brigid to Quillon.
He grinned in reply as he pulled one out of his pants pocket. “Symba gave me one when we were teenagers and I’ve carried it ever since.”
Each one found a comfortable spot, either on the floor or in a chair. Treena suggested Brigid lead them through a short, guided meditation to start; then, they could sink into their own meditating. She set a timer for forty minutes so time wouldn’t be a distraction. Everyone took out their stones. Some held them; others placed them on the ground as a visual focus.
Brigid’s warm, melodious voice flowed around the room. Tense muscles and busy minds softened and settled. Quiet breaths elongated and heart rates slowed. Individual energies in the room swirled and combined as one. As Brigid’s voice slid away, possibilities floated through their shared consciousness. Unnoticed, the amethysts began to glow until a common understanding was achieved. The timer buzzed softly. Gentle movements and eyes opening brought each person back to awareness of the room and each other.
“Wow,” said Symba breathlessly. “That was incredible. I could feel all of you with me.”
“The need for patience came through loud and clear to me,” said Treena, her mouth twisted into a wry grin.
“I felt affirmation of this as a gathering time,” said Evander.
“Gathering information and finding the rest of our team,” agreed Brigid.
“So, we visit my house and we arrange a meeting with Gerarda,” said Quillon, stretching his legs out and bending over them to ease the stiffness of his muscles from sitting on the floor.
Symba stood up and said, “We need to show up for the competition tonight or it’ll look suspicious.”
“We can make minor mistakes in our routines to ensure we don’t make it to the finals. Evander, could you speak with Cephas to place us last on the program, so we’ll know how much we need to mess up or if we have to fake an injury?” Quillon gracefully flowed up from the floor to stand by Symba.
“How will we get away? We came on a bus with our dance troupe,” Symba reminded him.
“We’ll tell the troupe we’ve decided to go back to my place in Greenburg to party. We can return to the hotel and rent a van. It’ll make for a late departure, but it should allay suspicion,” said Quillon. He put his arm around Symba.
“You’re obviously well versed in undercover tactics,” said Treena with an affirming nod. “That sounds like a solid plan.”
“If we go for an early supper, before it’s busy, we can update Cephas. We should pack so we’re ready to go as soon as we return from the competition,” Brigid said.
Quillon glanced at his watch. “Symba and I’d best go to our room and figure out how to make our dance mistakes look believable. We’ll see you at the Lounge.”
After their exit, Brigid turned to Evander and Treena. “The clothes we received from Merry have worked thus far, but if we’re going back to the Lounge and continuing this journey, we need more.”
Evander raised an eyebrow and Treena grinned.
Brigid sputtered, “I simply want a dress and another top. I have room in my bag for them.”
“We walked by a clothing store on the way to the Lounge. The sign on the door said it’ll be open until six p.m.,” Treena said.
“And you noticed this why?” said Brigid with her hands on her hips.
“Because I had the same thought as you,” said Treena sheepishly. “I noticed what people were wearing at the Lounge; we need to keep blending in. Evander, you should pick up a dress shirt. Most of the men last night wore more formal attire. In Greensburg, we can consult with Quillon and Symba regarding other things we may require.”
Evander groaned. “Okay, shopping it is. But if you two start asking for my opinion, I’m out of there!” He went to the safe and brought out their money. “Hopefully we have enough.”
Brigid excitedly led the way out of the room. She loved new clothes. She wasn’t skilled at sewing, but in her hometown a small shop stocked clothing by a magically gifted seamstress. Shopping there was one of the few activities that had brought her pleasure over the years. Treena often rolled her eyes when Brigid displayed her new purchases. However, she also enjoyed borrowing from Brigid’s wardrobe when trying to impress a new date. The three walked toward the clothing store with mixed feelings of anticipation.
A new clothing smell assaulted them as they entered the store. There were a few other people sprinkled among the racks. Brigid gravitated immediately to a colorful display of dresses. She fingered the material, which felt different from the fabrics in the Fairy Realm. This felt light and stretchy. Brigid felt a presence behind her and turned to see who it was.
A friendly looking clerk said, “May I be of assistance?”
“I’m looking for a dress for dancing at the Rock and Roll Lounge tonight,” Brigid said.
“You’ll want something that moves with you,” the clerk stated, as she visually assessed Brigid’s form. “You look about a size twelve, tall.” She guided Brigid to the correct section for her size. “Do you have a color preference?”
Brigid shook her head as the clerk sorted through the rack. She pulled out a basic black dress.
“This bodycon cut would flatter your figure. One can never go wrong with black, but it’s not as comfortable for dancing,” she said as she kept swishing through the dresses. “Here! This is what I was looking for.”
She showed Brigid a rich hunter green wrap style dress. The wraparound at the front created a tantalizing V-neck. The front hem scooped above the knees, while the back flowed to midcalf. Brigid fell instantly in love with it.
The clerk offered to take both dresses to a fitting room. Treena was already there with three options she’d collected. Brigid tried on the black dress. It was a good fit, but it felt boring. She really hoped the green would hug her curves in a flattering way. She pulled it on and turned to the mirror. It was perfect! She stuck her head out the door.
“Treena are you decent? I want to show you what I found.”
“Just a second. I’m halfway into this dress.”
A moment later, Treena’s door swung open and she stepped out wearing a royal blue asymmetrical cut
dress that looked gorgeous with her height and honey-blonde hair. She looked at Brigid and slowly walked around her.
“Wow! You look fabulous. That dress draws out the green of your eyes and flatters all the right spots. Evander’s going to be drooling before the evening’s over.”
“Treena!” chuckled Brigid, eyeing herself in the mirror. “Do you think so?”
“Oh yeah. Your necklace even looks like you selected it for the dress.”
“You’ve chosen well too. That shade of blue warms your skin—it makes you glow,” said Brigid, pulling Treena beside her. “Just look at us.”
They smiled into the mirror. Then, practical matters sprang to mind.
“I didn’t look at the price tag,” said Brigid. “Can we afford these?”
“The clerk who helped me said the winter dresses are half price to make room for their spring stock. Let me see,” said Treena as she lifted the tag attached to the underarm seam. “We’re good. We should have enough to pick out a top each too.”
“Are you ladies nearly done?” called Evander from outside the women’s change area.
“I’ll deal with him,” said Treena. “You get changed. I’ll send him back to the hotel so we can relax while picking out our tops.”
A fun half hour ensued as they tried on different styles, colors, and materials. Brigid loved a stretchy fabric that had something called Lycra in it. It hugged the body without feeling tight. With her generous curves, it felt good to wear something that moved with her in a comfortable fashion. Satisfied with their purchases, they hurried back to the hotel to dress for their early supper. At the entrance, a new officer was speaking to the one they’d seen earlier.
Evander was already changed when they entered the room. Black pants hugged the contours of his strong legs. A crisp black dress shirt, open at the throat, flattered his dark good looks. Brigid determinedly dragged her eyes away from feasting on his body, and she marched into the bathroom. Treena joined her. A light brush of makeup was all either of them used, so their preparations didn’t take long. They had purchased flats to go with their dresses; heels would be impractical if they had to fight or run. Treena left the bathroom first because she wanted to observe firsthand Evander’s response to Brigid.
The Prophecy Page 9
