“Hey, could you hold onto this for me?” she asked, pulling a folded paper out of her pocket. It was her paycheck.
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m going to open up a bank account on Monday and deposit it. And if I cash it and take it home, my mom will want it.”
He took the folded check and slipped it into the cabinet over the stove.
“So what is it that you wanted to show me?” she asked.
Elliot stopped making sandwiches and went through a stack of books on the chair across from her. The book he removed from the stack was old. Elliot thought that maybe it was from the 1920s or 30s. The book had no copyright page, so there was no telling how old it really was, but the cover design reminded him of some of the old art deco buildings he had seen in Hollywood. The typeface inside was different than in modern books, uneven and splotchy in places. The pages were thick and the edges were ragged.
“Metalurgy,” Astrid read over his shoulder. She took it and he watched her flip through the pages, going back to see if she could find the missing copyright page, just as he had. Then after going through it, she stopped and stared, just at the same spot he had, the inner cover.
“Property of the Library of A—” she read. The few inches of the cover that would have said the name of the library had been torn out, leaving a jagged white rip on the patterned paper. “Fines not to exceed one century.” She looked up at him. “What is this?”
“I found it by my door last night.”
“You think it was our grandfather?”
“He’s never given me anything before. And it’s not my birthday or graduation or anything. There’s no reason for it.”
“Was it in an envelope?” she asked.
“Yeah, but I threw it away.”
“Was it empty?”
“You mean a note?” he said. “No, there was nothing but the book.”
“No salt packets? I got one with salt packets.”
“That’s nuts. Why give you those? You guys aren’t so poor that a bunch of salt packets would help you.”
“I don’t think they were for eating,” she said. “And what’s this Library of A?”
“It looks like it was a library book and part of the name just got torn out.”
“The thing about the fine is weird too.”
That was the oddest part of the book. Everything else about it could be accounted for. Their grandfather must have bought this old book somewhere. Of course, he must have come in person to deliver it, as the envelope had no post mark.
“He gave me one yesterday too,” said Astrid. “I got a fairy tale book. It’s the same as the one he gave me when I was younger.”
“And you said he gave you salt packets too.”
“Yeah, that too,” she said. “And it’s not the first time someone has done it.”
Chapter 14
Astrid tossed and turned in the heat, unable to sleep. She slept in cotton shorts and a tank top, but they stuck to her damp skin in the heat. An old fan rattled near the window, circulating the hot night air. Cinderella was out, and all three kittens lay sound asleep. Astrid went to the kitchen for a drink of water and found her mother asleep on the sofa with the television on. She turned the volume down but left the television on, knowing that turning it off would wake her.
She dropped into bed again and stared at her bookshelf, wondering if she should read the fairy tale book her grandfather had sent. Cinderella’s collar jingled in the backyard. It was faint, as if the cat was on the far side of the yard. Then it grew silent.
She got up to get the fairy-tale book when she heard a low growl, long and drawn out. It must be Cinderella, getting ready to attack her prey. She pulled the book down and opened the front cover. There was no mark inside about libraries or fines. Like Elliot’s book, this one had no copyright page, but it was probably an antique from some used bookstore somewhere. She flipped on the light, got back into bed and thumbed through the pages, seeing the familiar pictures and text that she had read so many times through the years. She knew all of the stories and black and white illustrations by heart. It was pleasant to flip through the book, seeing old friends.
Something was bothering her though and she closed the book, her finger holding her place. It was something about the way the cat had growled. That was it. A hunting cat would never growl and alert its prey. They hunted silently. That meant Cinderella was preparing to fight something.
Astrid did not hesitate, but leapt out of bed and looked through the blinds. Though it was dark, there was enough light to see that there was nothing in the backyard.
Then there was a scream, so close to human that it almost didn’t sound feline any more. Cinderella’s collar jingled constantly now, as if she were running. Or struggling. Astrid ran to the kitchen, flicked on the porch light and threw open the back door. Cinderella stood near the back corner of the house, at the far end from Astrid’s room. Her back was to the door and every snow white hair on her body stood on end. She was alone. Whatever it was had gone.
Then Astrid smelled it, the acrid reek of something burning. The cat sniffed at the edge of a small section of smoking grass.
“What the hell?” Astrid breathed as she moved closer.
Cinderella turned, seeing her for the first time. The cat’s pupils were fully dilated, making her eyes look almost human. It also made the cat look wild and a little frightening. Cinderella lowered her nose again and sniffed at the smoldering grass.
The burned area was about two feet in diameter, and though it was not a perfect circle, it was close. Cinderella circled it, sniffing all around the perimeter. The smoke rising from it seemed to be getting thicker. Astrid wondered if it might catch on fire, or if it could spread. She turned on the hose and sprayed water over the circle. The grass hissed, and the smoke abated.
The smell was terrible. It reminded her of the time that Aunt Ruth and one of her old boyfriends had taken Elliot and her camping and Elliot had peed on the embers of the dying campfire. But this was even worse, with a stench like rotten eggs, like decay and death.
Chapter 15
Yukiko sat across from Mr. Augustus in the man’s dingy little office as he talked on the phone. A radio playing a classical station sat on the desk beside a chipped mug full of coffee. He had not offered her any. Not that she would have taken any food or drink from the man if he had.
A note had been shoved under her motel door the previous night, another frightening invasion of her privacy. It was calculated. It had to be. It was a reminder that they knew where she lived and could enter her area without her knowledge. Whoever had her spirit ball controlled her. She could not leave the area without it. She had not been able to locate them. She could only wait for them to contact her.
Mr. Augustus hung up the phone and turned to Yukiko. “She says she’ll be right over. So tell me, Fox, how old are you anyway?”
“Now that’s a question a gentleman never asks and a lady never answers,” she answered tartly.
“No, seriously. They said you only had one tail. So that makes you, what? A hundred? Or are you born with one and you get a second tail when you reach one hundred?”
“You can go to hell. I’m not talking to someone like you.”
“Like me?” he leaned back in his chair and studied her. The light from the window behind him, made his orange and gray hair into a wiry halo.
“Someone who poisons other people and steals. You are a brute and a thief and I am disgusted to be in the same room with you.”
“God, you’re a bitch.”
“You have no idea, human.” She said the final word like a curse, and in a way, it was. He was mortal, weak, unintelligent and easily manipulated. Maybe Santiago was right. These people were not like the two of them. The humans were more changeable, with less fidelity to their true natures, whateve
r that nature might be. They went from kind to cruel, loving to harming, with such ease.
“Well, Iolanthe will be here soon, and you can talk to her.”
Yukiko crossed her arms and waited. An employee came and picked up her paycheck and Mr. Augustus marked off her name in his ledger. After she had gone, the door opened again and a woman entered.
Yukiko caught a glimpse of shining blonde hair and smooth fair skin, but the moment the door closed, the woman changed. Her body remained the same, slender and soft in a diaphanous gown belted just under her breasts. It was sleeveless, and looked like something from a sculpture from ancient Greece but also like a light summer sundress that could be purchased at a local boutique. She wore gold sandals and her fingernails and toenails were a matching shade of glittering gold.
She also had the head of a ram. Her golden eyes had horizontal slits for pupils, like sideways cat eyes, and white horns curled on either side of her face. Rams were male, and Iolanthe was, presumably, female. Gender consistency was not a trait of some otherkind.
Yukiko stood, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. It was not the compulsion of her spirit ball, but rather her old training to show respect to equals.
“You are Yukiko, the Kitsune?” asked the woman.
“I am.”
“A pleasure. I am Iolanthe.” The woman gave a little nod but did not offer to shake her hand. That was a custom unique to some human cultures. Iolanthe took a chair and Yukiko sat in the other.
“The seer said that the agent is causing all sorts of difficulties, but his tracks are so well-covered that it’s difficult to prove,” said Iolanthe to Mr. Augustus. “Do you know anything about this?”
Either Yukiko was allowed to hear this, or the ram-headed woman did not consider her important enough to keep the conversation private. She guessed it was the latter.
Mr. Augustus shook his head, “Nothing about any agent. Sorry.” Yukiko noticed that Iolanthe held his gaze for a moment too long, most likely assessing his truthfulness.
“You will find out what you can,” she said.
“Look, do you have my spirit ball?” asked Yukiko. Ignoring her and slighting her were an insult, calculated to show dominance. Whatever games this woman wanted to play, Yukiko would not willingly participate in them.
Iolanthe turned those strange eyes on her. “I personally do not,” she said. Yukiko could see her long, pink tongue, like a thick piece of meat, moving inside her mouth. “But we have it, and you will do our bidding.”
“Who is ‘we?’”
“I will be the one with whom you speak. Also Mr. Augustus here, who is my representative.”
“So he poisoned me on your behalf. Is that it?”
“That is correct.” The woman showed no tinge of shame or remorse. “You will be employed here at Luna Park, under the direction of Mr. Augustus. You will obey every instruction he gives you on my behalf.”
“And if I do not?”
“Then we will destroy your ball. Either that or lock you up for a century or two. You aren’t what you once were, sadly. But even so, you are bound by the rules of your kind.”
“You stole my spirit ball to make me work at an old amusement park? What, am I going to clean up vomit and run the Ferris wheel?”
“You will do as he tells you. And he does what I tell him.”
“And who tells you what to do?”
The woman inclined her head slightly, and if Yukiko hadn’t known better, she would have said that the woman was enjoying this. “You do not need to concern yourself. You will do as Mr. Augustus tells you. If you do not, as I said, we will destroy your spirit ball or imprison you. Perhaps both.” She turned to Mr. Augustus. The radio station started playing a commercial and he turned it off.
“I will be in touch,” said Iolanthe to Mr. Augustus.
And with that, she rose and swept from the room. The instant before she opened the door, Yukiko saw the woman’s blonde hair reappear, falling around her shoulders in soft waves. She caught a glimpse of the side of Iolanthe’s face, a human face.
“Well, it looks like you’ll be doing as I say,” said Mr. Augustus. He was more relaxed now, which meant that Iolanthe must be some kind of danger to him. Yukiko was not terribly surprised. Humans could be conned and manipulated. They were so full of pain and longing, that they would welcome any promise to receive honor, power or love. She wondered how Mr. Augustus had come under Iolanthe’s power. “I heard that some of your kind worked as courtesans,” he said. “Do you—”
“Not a chance. We suck the life from the men who hire us, leaving them empty shells. And that’s if they’re lucky. Most end up dead, most by their own hand. Or so it always appeared.”
“I was going to ask if you played an instrument.”
“Are you going to order me to play?”
“I wasn’t instructed to. But I thought I might ask you.”
“Not after what you did to me. I won’t do a thing for you except under compulsion.”
“Would you kill me if you could? Iolanthe said that your kind were all noble and honorable. Friend of mankind and all that.”
“Usually we are, yes. But one does what one must,” she said. She looked him up and down, as if assessing a meal. Of course, she wouldn’t kill him. It wouldn’t restore her spirit ball, and a violation of the Myobu code would bring a punishment so terrible that it wouldn’t be worth it. Not even close.
“I could kill you,” she said. “And then use the power to overpower Iolanthe. She’d have to give me my spirit ball back.”
“She’s not the one who has it. She’s like me, down low on the totem pole. And, in case you get any ideas about killing me, know this. It won’t do a bit of good. They have your ball hidden, and from what I gather, it’s somewhere none of us, not them and not me, would ever want to go. And having them after you for killing their servant isn’t a good idea either. They can keep you for centuries and it would be like a single afternoon to them.”
“Where is this place that no one wants to go? How secure can it be if they don’t post guards?”
“Oh, now we’re buddies and I’m going to help you?”
“If you have any decency, yes. You poisoned me and helped enslave me. You owe me.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Sorry, sweetie. No deal. But more importantly, here’s what you’re going to do. We need your skills at manipulating reality. You can bend time and space, right?”
“You make it sound like something from Star Trek.”
“But you can do it? Better than the Seelie?”
“Yes. Is that what Iolanthe is? Seelie?”
“What, you couldn’t tell?”
“There are many sorts of beings that can change their appearance.”
“Yeah, she’s Seelie,” said Mr. Augustus. “I only tell you so you know whose protection I’m under. You don’t want to mess with them.”
Then he told her what her first task was going to be. Yukiko didn’t envy him. Being under the supposed protection of the Seelie brought unsavory obligations. The Seelie and their cousins, the Unseelie, were two types of sidhe. They thought of themselves as opposites and enemies, but to Yukiko, the Seelie were very bad, and the Unseelie were even worse. Being enslaved to the Seelie wasn’t going to be easy. There were many types of beings that could have been her new masters. It could be worse than the Seelie. But it could also be a whole lot better.
Chapter 16
Elliot stood in front of the mirror house, taking tickets and counting the hours until he was off for the day. Cartoon mermaids and whales decorated the front of the attraction, in keeping with the park’s theme. And over it all leered a giant blue head, a crown atop his wild white hair. It was supposed to be Poseidon, but Elliot thought it looked like a blue demon.
It was
Saturday, and the crowds were getting bigger. The mirror house was hot inside, but that didn’t stop anyone from wanting to go in. By tonight, the teenagers would be celebrating their first weekend of summer vacation. He took out a bottle of water he kept on a shelf inside the wooden stand where the employees kept tickets, glass cleaner and paper towels. His water was warm, but he was just a few minutes from his lunch break, and he would refill it then.
He took tickets from customers and then stopped. The last person in the line was the cute Japanese girl from the Chumash Legends show. She wore a pink tee shirt and little white shorts that showed a long expanse of smooth thigh. She also had plush orange fox ears and a tail.
“Hi,” she said. “I saw you yesterday at the show.” Her voice was low and musical. She hadn’t said a word during the performance, and he had imagined that her voice would be high and girlish.
“Um, yeah. Yeah, that was me. You were really good.”
Really good? Was that the best he could come up with? She had been beautiful, exquisite.
“Thanks. I don’t usually work with that group.”
“You mean Red Fawn? That’s the woman who runs it, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to be performing again?” he asked. “I’d love to come.”
It was a bold thing to say. And he was just a loser working at an amusement park, while she was a talented performer. She looked around his age, but she might be older and would think he was a dumb kid. He was sweaty and dressed in his stupid Luna Park uniform. He wouldn’t blame her for turning up her nose and walking away.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be performing,” she said. “It depends on Red Fawn.”
“Well let me know. I’m usually here, but I sometimes work at the arcade.”
“Okay, I’ll do that.” She looked him in the eye and gave him a little smile. She liked him, he was sure of it. Otherwise she wouldn’t say that. Or maybe she was just being polite.
The Time Corps Chronicles (Complete Series) Page 66
