Autumn Whispers (An Otherworld Novel)

by Yasmine Galenorn

  Carter shook his head. “No. Just that the deed suddenly transferred hands. Gerald Hanson was the owner and he stayed on. I looked into his financials, and there was no indication he was in trouble on that level, so there had to be some reason that he gave control of his great-grandfather’s prize possession to someone outside the family. Find out why, and you may find out what’s going on.”

  “Here’s another question to answer: why would Gerald stay on if he sold the building? But wait, did he actually sell the building? Or did he just deed it to Lowestar?” Camille asked.

  Carter tilted his head. “That’s a good question. I didn’t actually look at the deed. Let me see what I can find. Give me till tomorrow, if you would. I’m expecting company for dinner tonight.” By the way he said it, it was obvious that he was talking about a date. Which sounded ridiculous, when you considered that he was essentially a demigod.

  Braver than I, Camille snickered. “Who’s the lucky lady? Or man?”

  Carter gave her a sly smile. “No one you know. But if things work out, you may get to meet her in the future. Your scaly-winged husband may know her—her name is Shimmer and she’s from the Dragon Reaches. And that is all you need to know for now.”

  “You’re dating a dragon? Since when?” Camille was teasing, but Carter’s expression smoldered.

  “Oh girl, don’t press your luck. Or I might just . . .” He paused, and the look passed. “You will know if and when I decide you need to know. Now run along, and take the information that I gave you. Oh, and have you contacted your cousins yet?”

  I shook my head, deciding to take the focus off Camille. She needed to learn how to be more diplomatic. Although I certainly couldn’t provide much of an example.

  “No, we haven’t even told Menolly yet. We will tonight, though. With the Wayfarer burning down, and with the destruction in Otherworld, we’ve had too much on our plates. Our father is still missing, too.” The last, I hadn’t intended on letting slip out, but slip out the words did.

  Any snark or danger on Carter’s face vanished. His shoulders slumped and he leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry, truly. I hope you can find him, safe and in health. As to the Wayfarer, I will ask around. Perhaps someone has heard something. And Otherworld? There are no words for this matter. Not now, not with what’s going on.” And with that, he stood to show us out.

  We were on the street when Camille’s cell rang. She motioned for me to wait before I got into my Jeep while she answered.

  “Hello? What’s up? . . . What did he say? . . . No, no—we’re on our way home. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty depending on traffic . . . Don’t do anything until we get there.” She hung up and turned to me. “We have to get home. Morio said there was a call through the Whispering Mirror. Trenyth wants us to contact him. He said that he has some news for us, but he wouldn’t tell Morio what it was.”

  Her voice was shaking. I reached out to take her hand. Two of her husbands were in Otherworld, as well as Rozurial. What if something had happened to one of them? Or what if Telazhar had captured one—or more—of the Keraastar Knights? Given that there was an army marching on the city, any number of things could have happened.

  “Let’s go. You okay to drive?”

  Camille nodded. “Yeah, I just want to be home.” She jumped in her Lexus as I swung into my Jeep. We headed out, and I had the feeling neither one of us was paying much attention to the road as we wound through the rain and the traffic to Belles-Faire.

  • • •

  By the time we got home, everyone—including Iris and Bruce—were gathered in the living room. Morio had brought the Whispering Mirror downstairs from Camille’s study. He shrugged.

  “I just thought it might be a good idea to have this here. At least for now, considering everything that’s going on.”

  Hanna brought in tea and cookies, and the smell of spaghetti bubbled on the stove. Menolly had woken up and we gathered in the living room. Camille stared at the mirror.

  “I suppose I’d better call him and find out what’s going on.” She bit her lip, gnawing on it until Morio tapped her mouth.

  “Stop that. You can’t help anything by hurting yourself. Do you want me to put in the call?” He kissed her forehead, gazing deeply into her eyes.

  “No. No, let’s just . . . let me get this over with.” She settled herself in front of the mirror, activating it with the magical password.

  I snuggled close to Shade, and he draped his arm around my shoulders. He leaned down to whisper in my ears. “Whatever happens, you will be all right. Your sisters will be all right. We will weather through this.”

  I kissed his hand, feeling the warm promise of his love seep into my heart. “Thank you, thank you for being here.”

  Camille caught her breath as the mists in the mirror lifted. Trenyth appeared, looking tired and wrung out. We waited for him to speak.

  “Girls, are you all there? Menolly—is she there?”

  “I’m here.” Menolly couldn’t be seen through the mirror, though she could talk through it.

  “Good. I have news for you. First, Sharah has been . . . as you say, fast-tracked. She took the throne this afternoon and is the new Queen of Elqaneve. For the first time since before the Great Divide, the Elfin race has a new leader.”

  That wasn’t exactly grounds for celebration, given the circumstances. Be that as it may, at least the elves had someone to look to for guidance, as inexperienced and young as she was.

  Trenyth shifted in his seat. “The goblin forces are nearing the gates of the city. But the armies of Y’Elestrial are here to face them with us. There will be bloody war before the morning light hits. We have set up a temporary headquarters in a protected area. Before you come over to Elqaneve again, let us know so we can whisk you away. We can’t give out the location because we are still too vulnerable—not until we’ve fully reinforced our defenses.”

  There was something he wasn’t telling us, but knowing Trenyth, he would get around to it in his own time. I squeezed Shade’s hand, waiting.

  Trenyth’s gaze flickered as he glanced down at a paper in his hands. “Camille, your husbands and friend are hunting for the Knights. So far we do not believe that Telazhar has captured any of them, but neither have we discovered where they went. We do believe they’re all in hiding. They were instructed, if something should ever happen, to run for the hills and forests, and hide.”

  “Then Smoky, Trillian, and Rozurial are all okay?” Camille’s voice was shaking.

  With a nod, Trenyth smiled softly. “Yes, they are all right. I spoke with them about an hour ago. They are spending the night here before going out hunting again.” He paused again and I could feel something hanging.

  And then, he dipped his head. “I have other news. We discovered Queen Asteria’s body. She was crushed beside her throne. She will be laid to rest tomorrow. We have no time for formal rites and ceremonies. She will be placed in the Barrow Mounds, where the Oracle lived.”

  I pressed my hand to my lips. We knew—hell, I had escorted her out of her body, but it was truly real now. She had been found, and she had passed into history, and the Elfin race would have to march on without her wisdom.

  Trenyth motioned to someone out of sight of the Whispering Mirror. Trillian came into view, and Trenyth moved to let him take the seat in front of us. “Girls . . . Trillian, please.”

  We waited in silence. The air in the living room felt thick, as if something tangible—palpable—was hovering around us. Camille scooted close to Morio and he placed his hands on her shoulders.

  Trillian gazed at Camille, holding her gaze. “My love, I have news for you and your sisters.” He let out a long sigh. “I thought to visit your father’s home in Y’Elestrial. I traveled there via the portals this morning. I went to your family shrine . . .”

  The room felt like it was beginning to spin. Camille let out a faint cry and Menolly lowered herself to the floor, moving to take my hand. We stood, crossing to stand near Camille.
Everyone backed away, letting us have space.

  “What did you find?” Camille’s voice was so faint that we could barely hear her.

  “My love . . . your father’s soul statue. It’s shattered. Sephreh ob Tanu is dead. Your father is dead.” As Trillian spoke, the room fully started to spin on me.

  I shook my head, letting out a whimper. Father had been a constant in our lives. He’d been there from the beginning and for some reason, I’d never thought he’d die. He was hard on us, and his honor was both his downfall as well as his foundation, but he’d always been true to his beliefs.

  Camille shook her head. “No . . . no . . . we just started to repair our relationship. He can’t be dead . . .”

  “Are you sure? Are you sure it’s his statue?” Menolly asked.

  Trillian nodded. “Yes, I’m certain. I don’t know where his body is, but if he was in the throne room near the Queen, we’re sure to find some evidence as the recovery efforts continue. The dead . . . they are everywhere. Elqaneve has suffered a serious blow and thousands have died. In the city, in the villages, the devastation is horrendous. Delilah and Camille saw the storm. The aftermath? It’s terrifying how powerful the swath of destruction is.”

  I closed my eyes as the room began to phase in and out. And then, for the first time in a while, tension and stress hit me and I found myself shifting. Tabby rose up, taking over for me, and the next thing I knew, I was racing up the stairs, heading for the protection and comfort of my kitty condo. The pain was still there, but it felt more removed, and as I hurried into my playroom, I leaped up to the carpeted perch, crawling into the hidey-hole box.

  I snuggled deep into the light fleece blanket that Camille had thought to stuff in there, hiding away from the worry and stress and pain. Closing my eyes, I purred to comfort myself, trying not to think about the people I loved, or the people I had lost. Before I knew it, slumber claimed me.

  Chapter 16

  I’m not sure how much later it was before Camille and Menolly found me and gently pulled me out of the kitty condo. I woke with a start as Menolly gathered me into her arms, whispering comfort in my ear. After a few minutes, I began to relax and Menolly put me on the floor and I shifted back, slowly, leisurely, so it didn’t hurt. As I stood up, it hit me again. Father’s soul statue was shattered. And that could mean only one thing.

  “How long was I . . .” It pissed me off that stress could still send me turning into Tabby. I wanted to be more responsible. What if something like that happened during a fight? But then again, it always seemed to be family stress that set it off.

  “About ten minutes, Kitten. Not long.” Menolly sat down on the edge of the sofa. She picked up one of my cat toys and began playing with it. She swung the mouse by the tail, staring at the floor. “So, can we be sure he’s dead? Could his statue have shattered any other way?”

  “It could have been accidentally . . . or even deliberately broken, but why would his be and not ours?” Camille shook her head. “He was last seen in the palace, with Queen Asteria. I think we have to accept that he’s dead. I guess . . . I guess we contact Aunt Rythwar and tell her about Father. I’ll do that, tomorrow. I just . . . not tonight.”

  I wanted to cry, but mostly I felt numb. So much had gone on that the whole past couple of days seemed like a vivid, painful nightmare. We sat there for ten minutes, twenty, none of us saying a word. Tears were too dangerous to give in to right now. Mourning would come later, when we’d had time to adjust.

  “Do you remember how he used to take us to the falls every chance he got? Delilah, you hated those outings, but I loved them. I loved swimming in the pool, and pretending I was a mermaid.” Camille shuddered as she spoke, but her words made us all smile.

  “I just hated the water. I loved going places with you guys.” I gave her a wan shrug, but the memory of the sunlight on the grass stood out, a ray of light in a dark, dreary evening.

  “I wonder how the pond looks by moonlight. We could go back there . . .” Menolly twirled my toy mouse by the tail.

  After another silence, I realized we still had to tell Menolly about our mother’s kin. No time like the present, and maybe, in some way, it would help.

  I looked up at her. “This is a hell of a time to bring it up, but . . . speaking of family, Carter told us something a couple days ago but it got shoved to the wayside with what went down in Elqaneve.”

  She grimaced. “Oh, what joyful news does he have for us now?”

  Camille leaned over her shoulder. “Apparently, our mother has blood kin that live in the area. Long story short: we have two cousins living near here. Alive. They’re in their forties, and they are full FBH.”

  Menolly’s jaw dropped. “What? I thought she was an orphan.”

  “Apparently not . . .” We told her what Carter had found out.

  Camille sighed. “So, the question is, do we want to contact our cousins and tell them about Mother?”

  A pause, then I looked up. There was no doubt in either of their eyes. “Of course we do. I don’t think we have a choice.”

  “Do you have their number?” Menolly gazed at me, evenly. I realized it was a dare.

  “Right here in my notebook.” I pulled out my notebook where I’d written it down. “You want me to call now?” Somehow it seemed wrong to call right after we’d gotten the news about Father’s soul statue, but I had begun to realize that there would never be the right time. Not with our lives. There would always be something going on, always some battle brewing, some friend or loved one missing or dead. That was just the way our existence had become.

  Camille handed me the phone and I stared at it for a moment.

  “Before I call them, let me contact Tim and give him the account name and URL for Supernatural Matchups so he can start trying to hack into Violet’s account. We need to know who she was hooking up with.”

  “Good idea.” Camille leaned back on the sofa, crossing her legs. She sounded weary as she reached down to unbuckle one of her stilettos and toss it on the floor. We all looked worn out, and I had the feeling we’d be a lot worse off before we got better.

  I put in the call and five minutes later, Tim had written down the information and promised to do his best to break in. As I hung up, I stared at the phone in my hand. No more procrastination. We’d made the decision to do this thing, and we might as well get it over with. If they didn’t want to talk to us, we’d be no worse off than before. And if they met with us and rejected us, well, we couldn’t make people like us. Blood didn’t automatically garner acceptance; we knew that all too well.

  I punched in the first number. I was running on autopilot, but when a woman answered the phone, a rush of hope washed through me.

  “Hello, I’m looking for Hester Lou Fredericks. Can you tell me if I’m calling the right number?” I paused.

  “This is Hester. Who’s calling, and what can I do for you?” The voice was so friendly and open that it lifted my heart. I wondered, what did she look like? Was there any sort of a family resemblance? I looked most like our mother, and my mind began to whirl in a thousand directions.

  “You don’t know me, but my name is Delilah D’Artigo. I don’t know how to explain this, but . . . we’re related. We’re cousins. My sisters and I would like to meet you.” How the hell I thought I could explain this over the phone, I had no clue, but maybe if we met and were face-to-face, the words would come.

  A pause. Another moment and then, “Of course. Would you mind if we met in a coffee shop? It’s not that I don’t want to be hospitable but . . .”

  “No worries. We understand. Would you and your brother—we know about him, too—be able to meet us this evening?”

  It seemed we might as well make the date as soon as we could. I half wanted to get it over with so we didn’t sit wondering how it would go down.

  Hester let out what sounded like a snort. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get hold of Daniel, but I can meet you. There’s a Starbucks on Fiftieth and Lexington. I
’ll be wearing a chartreuse shirt. Can you be there in an hour?”

  I glanced at the clock. It was six thirty now. “Yes, we’ll meet you in an hour. And Hester . . . thank you.” I handed Camille back the phone. “It’s set. She knows my name so we’d better go through with this.”

  We stared at one another for the next minute, then, in a flurry, we beat a rush to make ourselves presentable.

  • • •

  An hour later we walked into the coffee shop, not sure what to expect. Camille was decked out in her usual—a black bustier over a warm plum skirt and ankle boots with mile-high heels. Menolly was in clean jeans, a turtleneck, and knee-high brown leather boots. And I’d changed into a pair of pair of cargo jeans, a pale green sweater, and a black denim jacket. We were about as good as we were going to get, given the circumstances.

  On the way over, Menolly had gotten a call from Derrick that hadn’t helped any. The salvage operations for the Wayfarer had yielded very little. It was going to be a complete rebuild from the foundation up. And he dropped the bomb that a lawyer had come sniffing around but had been close-mouthed.

  We were all worn out, and when Camille had suggested going dreglin-hunting after our meeting here, neither Menolly nor I were much in the mood. It was too soon after what had happened.

  The coffee shop was buzzing with wired java-junkie Seattleites. We didn’t have coffee back in Otherworld but since we’d come over here, Camille had gotten hooked but good on it, and she drank enough to bring a grown man to his knees. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, and the warm lights and hustle of chatter felt like a welcome retreat.

  I glanced around, looking for someone we might recognize. Hester Lou had said she’d be wearing a bright green shirt, and within seconds, my gaze landed on the only chartreuse-ensconced woman in the place.

  We knew she was someplace in her forties, but she looked fit. Skinny as a rail, with blond hair like mine tied back in a ponytail, she didn’t have a speck of makeup on that I could see, and she was sitting next to a red-headed woman, also lean and athletic, who had her hand on Hester’s arm. I had the feeling they were more than good friends.