Hell and High Water

by Charlotte E. English

  Chapter Thirteen: Fionn

  ‘What?’ I said, momentarily breathless.

  ‘May I mercilessly barter you for personal gain,’ came Tai’s voice down the phone.

  I drew in air, with difficulty. ‘Tai—’ I began.

  ‘Come on! It’ll be fun!’

  ‘It will be anything but fun.’

  She sighed. ‘I know. I do.’

  ‘I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t make a joke out of it.’ Her words had hit me with the force of a brick, or perhaps a whole flurry of bricks. I felt bruised. A slave auction? For selkies?

  ‘Right.’ Tai paused; I could almost hear her swallowing the next jest she’d doubtless been planning to make. ‘Fair. I’m sorry. I thought it might make it easier—’

  ‘Shall we move ahead to the explanations?’ I said, keeping my voice even with an effort.

  ‘Sorry.’ The story that followed grew a little confused; I gathered it had a lot to do with Phélan, inevitably. But the salient point was: a selkie slave-auction, tomorrow night. My stomach turned over. Would my fellow selkies be there in person, or would it only be their sealskins changing hands? Tai obviously concluded the former. Perhaps she was right.

  In which case, perhaps Melly and Mearil would be there. There may be more, too — selkies whose absences we had not yet learned of.

  Even if it was only their skins, this was our chance to find out who was conducting this abominable little business. Perhaps we could even stop them — tomorrow. Before they had chance to do anything… else. Anything worse.

  ‘So you need me there to back up your claims,’ I concluded when Tai had finished.

  ‘Right. I need to prove to these people that I’m not trying to play games. I have to show that I’ve really got the goods.’

  ‘And a sealskin wouldn’t be sufficient by itself?’

  ‘That’s… up to you. I can walk in there with you openly, or you can skulk in the shadows and delve into unpleasant truths while I attempt to flog your sealskin to the highest bidder.’

  ‘Can’t figure out which one of those sounds less appealing.’

  ‘We won’t use your actual sealskin,’ said Tai quickly.

  ‘Damn right you won’t.’

  Tai didn’t respond. I recognised the manoeuvre. She was giving me space to think, time to consider — confident that I’d come down on her side of the fence, once I had.

  I did not have words to express my horror at being expected to play-act at being slave-taken again. I could absolutely do it, and very convincingly. I’ve had enough practice, Hags help me, and it isn’t the sort of thing you forget. But to dive back into that kind of darkness is a lot to ask of a woman.

  I couldn’t say no, though. What else were we going to do? We had to be at that auction, and Tai was right: she couldn’t show up empty-handed. A fake sealskin wasn’t going to cut it.

  ‘I’ll be there,’ I said. ‘I’ll get back to you on the details.’

  ‘I love you,’ said Tai.

  ‘You always say that when I’ve agreed to do something for you.’

  ‘No. I always say that when you’ve agreed to do something unspeakably brave and devastatingly unpleasant for me.’

  ‘Remind me how that keeps happening.’

  ‘I don’t know, maybe consider a job change?’

  ‘I had a job change. I’m a specialist in haute couture. I’m not supposed to be doing devastatingly unpleasant things anymore.’

  ‘After tomorrow, we’ll go to a theme park,’ said Tai. ‘A whole day. You and me.’

  ‘A theme park.’

  ‘You know what those are, right?’

  ‘They’re for kids.’

  ‘They’re for kids and adults, Fi.’

  ‘Adults with kids. You know, parents.’

  ‘If you want to borrow a child for the day, that’s fine with me, but it’ll be way more fun without.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  Tai went off to engage in obscure Tai-type things, and I returned to my own business. Thoughts of the next night’s auction unsettled me; I put them forcibly out of my mind, and concentrated on the problems of today.

  I had two tasks on my agenda. One, get in touch with Faerd. I wanted to talk to him about our recent discoveries, see if anything rang any new bells with him. And, who knew, perhaps he had uncovered some new information on his own.

  And the other: Eventide. I had agreed to go back. Indeed, I was dressed for it already, in a moon-coloured satin gown and blue diamonds. I’d been on the point of leaving when Tai had called me; my taxi was waiting.

  On the journey there, I composed myself as best I could, pushing away all the parts of Fionn that disturbed my peace. I was a lake of cool waters, placid and serene. I was a fatale, effortlessly capable, imperturbably confident. I could handle anything.

  By the time my taxi drew up outside of the Eventide club, I almost believed it.

  The club had attracted a photographer or two tonight, and the bouncers, for whatever reason, had not sent them off. I paused, and permitted a picture or two, before I went inside. No sense in hiding my attendance; Brianne knew we were involved, and I was there to track her down.

  The idea that Brianne herself might be behind the repulsive selkie scheme had yet to make sense to me. Of course, it wasn’t impossible. The lady had neither feelings nor standards to make such a business repellent to her, after all. But so direct an operation wasn’t her style, either. She was always a more shadowy presence, attaching herself to the schemes of others as it suited her, but mostly independent. Like a female Phélan, really. I wondered if the comparison had ever entered Tai’s mind.

  Regardless, Brianne as mastermind did not sit right with me. A great deal of time had passed, certainly, and people could change in unanticipated ways; they did so all the time. Even so, I expected to find someone else at the heart of this mess. Someone upon whose right hand Brianne was contented to sit.

  But I had no idea who that might be.

  Eventide was packed, unexpectedly so. I paused upon entry, and surveyed the room. Scarcely space to manoeuvre, and the din was almost unbearable. Such a crush — and the photographers outside — usually meant a celebrity or two was in attendance, a cut or three above the usual level. I spotted the culprit after a time: a prominent actress who’d been in several films lately. She was leannan sith, of course — unbeknownst to most, though she made for a controversial figure among the fae. There were plenty who’d judge her for seeking or accepting such fame; under such constant scrutiny, could she keep her fae nature a secret?

  I had never made it my business to care. I avoided her, taking my time as I wandered through the room. If Brianne was here, she would be well concealed in this crowd. I kept an eye out for flashes of green hair, or perhaps that distinctive laugh of hers, but I encountered neither.

  Someone touched my elbow, lightly. ‘Fionn, wasn’t it?’

  I turned to find Tai’s friend, Rudy, hovering nearby. He wore the standard metalhead’s outfit of all-black, adorned with an occasional silver-based accent; nothing to interest me. But his demeanour was friendly.

  ‘We met the other night,’ I said, remembering to smile. ‘Rudy, yes?’

  He nodded. ‘Tai with you?’

  ‘Not tonight. Were you hoping to see her?’

  Rudy took a moment to work out a response. ‘It was nice to run into her, that’s all. Have you two been friends long?’

  ‘About a thousand years.’

  ‘Oh. Then you know her well.’

  ‘Used to. Tell me something, Rudy. Have you seen Brianne Lamarre here tonight?’

  ‘Not so far. She was in last night, though.’

  So she might still turn up. I resolved to wait. ‘Thanks. How about Cellann? You know, the young model she was with.’

  ‘She was in last night, too.’

  Same time as Brianne. Good, on the one hand; she was still well, or at least, she had been as of yesterday. But she and Brianne were at Eventide to
gether — less good.

  Rudy drifted a little nearer, and lowered his voice. ‘Those questions you were asking. Last time.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ve been keeping an eye out.’

  I nodded, and waited.

  ‘I can’t always tell who’s selkie and who isn’t, understand. Not if they don’t make it obvious. But it seems to me we’ve had more selkies than usual coming in here lately.’

  ‘Are they all seen with Brianne?’

  ‘Not necessarily, but I can’t be here all the time.’

  That matched up with our conclusions thus far: Eventide was being used as some kind of honey trap, led by Brianne. But that only helped us so far. What I wanted was an opportunity either to wring some truths out of Brianne, or to follow her out of here and see where she went.

  ‘Then again,’ said Rudy, with an odd smile. ‘You’re a selkie, aren’t you? And I don’t remember seeing you here before this week.’

  I studied Rudy, unsure of his point. ‘It’s the presence of the others that’s drawn me,’ I said. ‘Or rather, their absence from where they’re supposed to be.’

  He smiled wider. ‘You ladies are a bit confused, aren’t you?’

  ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘Consider Tai,’ he said. ‘She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she? Barely knows me, but trusts me anyway. Delightful quality. You’d think a history like hers would have made her more paranoid.’

  ‘Did she tell you about her history?’

  Rudy went on without answering me. ‘And then we come to you. Waltzing in here the other day, Tai in tow, openly asking questions about things you really should have left alone. I’d expected better.’

  I took a step away from Rudy. ‘What could you possibly have expected?’

  ‘That the pair of you would’ve had more sense than to advertise your intentions quite so openly. Or that you’d have better sense than to saunter back in here alone. Tai couldn’t be here to back you up? Or did you think you’d be safe among so many people?’

  Rudy’s behaviour had changed. Gone was the congenial manner, the slight, amiable foolishness. Gone was the flirtatiousness of the other night. There was something cold about him now, and hard; unsympathetic.

  ‘You’re involved in this,’ I said quietly.

  ‘What, you thought that Tai has any clue who to trust?’

  ‘She deserves better from you.’

  He shrugged. ‘Bitch has been avoiding me for years. Thinks she’s too good for me. And you — you’re worse, aren’t you? Stuck up prima donna. And tragically over-confident.’

  My knives were in my hands before he’d got halfway through this speech. I didn’t want to openly pull them in such company — besides, given the quantity of people around me I had barely any room to move. But I got them between me and Rudy before I spoke. ‘You’re exactly Brianne’s type, hm? Entitled attitude. Fragile ego. Tragically easy to butter up.’

  His gaze flicked to the short, bright-silver blades pointed towards him. ‘Nice move,’ he said. ‘Wrong target.’

  Brianne’s voice purred in my ear, ‘Hello, darling. Did I tell you how much I’ve missed you?’

  I had no time to react, no time to turn. The barest pinprick of sensation alerted me to her attack: a dart perhaps, or more likely a needle, jabbed into my bare left arm.

  ‘Brianne,’ I snarled, already unsteady on my feet. ‘Can’t say I’ve missed you at all.’

  ‘I wonder if sweet Tai would say the same?’

  The clamour in the club seemed to grow louder and louder, buzzing in my ears. My vision clouded. Brianne caught me as I fell, in a surprisingly gentle grip.

  ‘There, there,’ she murmured. ‘Feeling a bit faint, hm? It’s all these people, darling. We’ll get you somewhere nice and quiet, and you’ll feel better.’

  I wanted to call her every name under the sun. I wanted to make sashimi of her with my beautiful knives. But before I’d had time to decide where on her exquisite person I’d begin, I dropped into darkness.

  I woke slowly, and painfully, my abused head objecting to consciousness with every breath. Opening my eyes, I experienced a moment’s blind panic, for I saw nothing but blank darkness. Was I blind?

  No. Likely not, only left somewhere without lights. I forced myself to breathe, slowly and deeply, until the sensations of panic faded.

  Well. Rudland Mathis, of Tormented Wraith. Tai was going to smash his teeth in with those fabulous gauntlets of hers, and I hoped I’d get to watch.

  We had a major problem on our hands. For the moment, though, escape loomed rather larger as a priority.

  Where the hell was I.

  I was freezing cold, for one thing. I still wore my flimsy satin evening gown, and nothing much else. My shoes had fallen off my feet during transit; either that or they’d been intentionally taken from me. The knives I’d been holding were, of course, gone, as was the third blade I kept in a thigh-sheath.

  I wasn’t bound, which was curious, but convenient.

  I could smell water. Neither fresh nor salt: stagnant, dead water. And something else: mild decay, not that of biological matter but of old, rotting wood and earth.

  A derelict building, in all likelihood. Had I been dumped at the old car factory, the one Tai had said was hosting the auction? That would make sense. Perhaps Brianne and Rudy intended to make me part of the wares.

  My bracelet… the nakedness of my left wrist told me my pearls were gone.

  Of course they were.

  So was my phone.

  Well, then. I drew myself to my feet, carefully. My head throbbed with nauseating intensity, and I almost toppled over again. Several minutes of breathing passed before I felt steady enough to venture away from the spot in which I’d been lying.

  I’d chosen a high-necked gown for the evening. Not my usual style, but there had been a purpose to it. It cost me a few moments’ awkward fumbling to retrieve my pearls — the real ones — from their hiding-place; I’d hung them around my neck upon a long length of near-invisibly translucent silk, trusting to the gown’s folds of satin and my undergarments to hide them. Those, and Brianne’s obliging combination of cockiness and lack of imagination. She thought she had caught me unawares, too rusty to anticipate her plans. And I was rusty, no doubt about it — but nowhere near fool enough to go looking for her without taking precautions.

  The other precaution was called Daix, and she’d been watching Eventide’s rear entrance since before I arrived. Brianne might be wise to such a trick, certainly; we never used to show up anywhere alone, given the choice. But few people got the drop on Daix. She’d be along soon.

  In the meantime. I separated one precious pearl from the string, and placed it upon my tongue. It felt cool there, tasted of salt.

  I swallowed it. Immediately, the vestiges of my fatigue, confusion and dizziness faded away. My limbs strengthened, my head cleared, and I stood taller.

  It hurt a little to seek those dead pools of water, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d dealt with stagnancy. It left a lingering bad taste, and I’d have another headache, but no matter. I forced myself to focus on the water, and in doing so, the stench of it threatened to turn my stomach. The taste of it flooded my mouth; I gritted my teeth on a surge of nausea.

  Worth it, though, for this borrowed kinship allowed me to sense where it lay. Little of it was in the room with me; here there was only the dampness of leaking ceilings and mildew. But the water was not far away. I called it to me, and it came, seeping under the door and running across the concrete floor to reach me.

  ‘Would kill for a light,’ I muttered, and stepped carefully in the direction the water had come from. There lay the door, and egress. I sloshed through puddles of foul-smelling water, my bare skin shrinking from the contact. I moved slowly, wary of a collision with obstacles I couldn’t see, but nothing impeded me. Soon, my outstretched arms encountered a wall, soft with rotten wallpaper and mould; my shrinking fingers groped their way from there to the hard pa
nels of a closed door.

  Excellent.

  I concentrated, and the water flowed up to engulf the door. Decades of slow decay took place in the space of a minute or two; the water rotted the wood through, and, softened to the point of collapse, it sagged and fell.

  I stepped through. I’d hoped a light of some sort might greet me on the other side, even if at some distance, but the environs were as pitch-dark as the room I’d left. This wouldn’t do. I’d have to risk the exposure of my pearls, even if it meant alerting Brianne to my continued possession of them. I retrieved them, restored them to my wrist, and a moment’s thought produced a dulcet white glow.

  Better. The soft light was everything, compared to the blank nothingness of before. It illuminated the long, narrow and decrepit corridor in which I stood, a bleak, featureless passage etched with the marks of long neglect. No clues met my eyes as to where I was, or where I should go to escape the building, so I picked a direction at random and set off.

  The uneven floor hurt my feet, and I regretted the loss of my shoes. I was shivering, too, beyond the possibility of controlling myself. I made a mental note of all these discomforts and indignities, and resolved to take the price of them out of Brianne’s hide at some near-future date.

  I reached the end of the corridor, followed it around to the right — and paused, for a new scent reached me. Smoke.

  I broke into a trot, following the aroma of smoke through another couple of passageways and across a large hall piled with assorted rubbish. Down a flight of stairs. I kept my senses alert as I ran, still attuned with what little water remained in the building; if there’d been sign or scent of another person somewhere — or, more specifically, another selkie — I’d have caught it. But there was nothing. For the moment, at least, I was the only prisoner on this site.

  At last, I discovered the main doors — large enough to drive a car through, and hanging open. A figure stood between me and escape.

  A small, compact figure wreathed in green-tinged flame.

  ‘Finally,’ said the walking torch. ‘Take your damned time, Fi. Not like we’re in a hurry or anything.’

  ‘Are we though?’ I said, slowing to a stop.