Lost in Mist and Shadow: A Between the Worlds Novel

by Morgan Daimler

  “I hate to just leave you guys here to deal with all of it…” Allie sighed, looking at the empty windows, the glitter of broken glass across the floor, and bit her lip.

  “I understand and under different circumstances I’d say stay, but in this case it won’t do any good and you need a break. I promise I’ll stay and keep an eye on things until we wrap up and by then the new windows should be in. Do you have insurance?”

  “Yeah, I need to call and file a claim.”

  “I’ll give you the case number, you go do that. Trust me a business like this they’ll do everything they can to get someone right out to fix the windows.”

  Reluctantly Allie nodded, and then feeling tired of looking at the destruction she walked over to Lei’s store, Curious Curios. The sign outside proudly proclaimed “Curious Curios: Purveyors of Unique Antiques and Original Oddities”. Which Allie reflected described everything in the store, including its owner, pretty succinctly.

  Lei insisted on feeding Allie lunch, some unidentifiable food that tasted delicious and did make Allie feel a little bit better. Then she gave her space to make the calls she needed to on her cell phone. That was one great thing about Lei – she could be wonderfully supportive and also give Allie as much space as she needed. It was a shame that Allie just couldn’t take the pixie’s energy in large doses without feeling like her head was spinning or they might have been close friends.

  Lei had turned back towards her own sales counter while Allie talked on the phone, and now Allie drifted slowly towards the door and out onto the sidewalk. Detective Riordan was still standing in front of Between the Worlds, collecting evidence and talking with his partner. The guys from Supreme Glass and Windows were already on the way and Riordan had said there was nothing for her to do here for a couple hours. He’d promised to keep things safe. She trusted him.

  She stood with the sun beating down on her, squinting in the bright light, unsure what to do. She had a nagging feeling she should call Jess, but she didn’t want to bother him. She didn’t want to worry Liz or Jason, who couldn’t help anyway, so going home wasn’t an option. After a moment she thought of one thing, one errand she’d been putting off, and slowly pulled her cell phone out.

  *********************************

  She knew it was mid-day, even though the room was dark. The windows had been covered with towels duct taped in place to block out all the light, and she was pretty sure keep anyone from possibly seeing inside. But here and there around the edges little shafts of sun broke through anyway, like weeds growing in the cracks of the sidewalks. Her eyes traced the outlines of the windows over and over, watching for the little hints of light. She had nothing else to do.

  The room was quiet. There were no sounds from outside the room either, meaning that he wasn’t there. That was good.

  She risked shifting her weight slightly making the bed creak. She held her breath. Nothing.

  He really wasn’t there.

  She rolled over as far as the ropes would allow, trying to find a comfortable way to lay. It wasn’t easy. The bindings pulled at her, cutting into her already raw, chafed wrists and ankles.

  She thought of her mother and she wanted to cry, but there weren’t any tears. She suspected that this was Hell and there was no relief from the torment, but she could not imagine what she had done to deserve this. Hell was supposed to be something that people earned, and she had always tried to be a good person….

  He would be back soon. He never left for very long.

  She turned back over and tried to find the light seeping in around the windows again, to convince herself that the outside world still existed.

  She didn’t quite believe it anymore.

  *********************************

  Allie pulled into the long driveway to the co-op, relieved to have finally found it. Rose’s directions had been good, but Allie rarely came out to this part of town and she had missed the turn on to the road the co-op was on twice and had then driven at a crawl afraid she’d miss the driveway. Out here in the rural part of Ashwood not all the mailboxes were numbered and the narrow country road didn’t offer anywhere to easily turn around. Now that she’d made the decision to drive out and finally pick up the sculpture Rose had promised her in trade for the books she’d picked out Allie found herself anxious to get back to her store. She’d almost turned around twice but her fear of having to call Rose back and cancel kept her going.

  The gravel driveway was long and winding, the ruts proving a challenge for Allie’s small car. Originally the co-op had been a campground for children, but in the 1960’s Sara’s family had bought the property to turn it into an artist’s retreat. Sara’s grandfather was a novelist and the family had felt that offering a place to go and have some solitude in the magical atmosphere of the borderland – not quite Fairy but not mortal earth either – would provide inspiration for artists of various media. The cabins had been converted from bunkroom style buildings into individual loft spaces with basic amenities (and almost no modern technology). What had once been a group lodge was now a central meeting area and small gallery.

  The problem they ran into fairly quickly was that each year artists came and decided they wanted to stay long term; eventually they decided to turn it from a vacation style retreat into a co-operative, with permanent residents buying in and sharing the costs going forward. There were still a few cabins that were rented out on a temporary basis, but most of the residents now were permanent. Sara’s family legally owned the property and so she acted as the site manager, something she compared to bathing cats most of the time: dramatic, painful, but ultimately worth the effort.

  Allie drove past the long line of cabins, counting until she reached the fifth on the left. The little building had more windows than Allie had expected and appropriately enough a tangle of wild roses to either side of the door. There wasn’t anywhere to park so she pulled her car as far off into the grass as she dared. Before she’d even shut off the engine Rose was coming out the front door, smiling. Allie felt some of her tension draining away. Rose greeted her warmly, “Allie! I’m so glad you finally made it out. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

  Allie got out of the car and crossed the uneven expanse of ground towards the other woman. Rose was wearing a faded pair of jeans, white t-shirt, and canvas apron; her clothes, hands and face were liberally decorated with clay in various stages of drying. Allie frowned, worried she’d picked a bad time, “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.”

  “Oh goodness no! I needed to take a break anyway. Once I get started sometimes I get so carried away I forget to stop and eat,” Rose smiled, holding the door open and gesturing for Allie to enter.

  Allie stepped into the room and was immediately overwhelmed, “There’s…there’s a lot of iron in here.”

  “Hmmmm? Would you like some tea? Oh, yes there is a lot of iron isn’t there? Sara said it’s to help keep out any dangerous things that might be wandering around,” Rose said, going over to the cast iron woodstove and moving the tea kettle to an open burner.

  “I think I’ll pass on the tea, thanks,” Allie said, eyeing the iron kettle. She stood just inside the door, struggling to adjust to the way magic was palpably less in here. It reminded her of being fully on earth, which always took a bit to get used to. “And Sara’s right all this iron would be a good defense against most Fey creatures.”

  While Rose busied herself getting a mug and making herself a sandwich, Allie finally had a chance to look around. The cabin was set up as a small loft space, with a kitchenette, futon (currently set up as a couch, but obviously also used as a bed) and small dining area. The rest of the area, at least half the room, was studio space: canvas tarps covered the floor and several long tables had been set up with red and gray clay in various states, from plastic wrapped blocks to drying sculptures scattered across their surfaces. A huge skylight dominated the eastern side of the pitched ceiling, and the walls were mostly windows, with shelves running abo
ve and below. On the shelves….

  “Rose, these are amazing!” Allie exclaimed, reaching out but not quite touching the closest statue. The figure of a woman dancing, it perfectly captured the feeling of movement, as if the tiny person would finish her swirling step any moment. The detail in the hair and flaring skirt, the tiny fingers on the hands and expression of joy on the face were so exact they looked almost unreal.

  “Do you like that one? It’s based on one of my daughters. I really tried to capture how much she loves dancing, the freedom of it, you know?” Rose said, walking over holding her sandwich.

  “It’s perfect.”

  “Thank you,” Rose sounded genuinely pleased at the compliment. Allie walked slowly along the shelf admiring the collection of pieces. Each one was completely unique and captured people and animals in a variety of actions, but they all held that same spark of life. It was almost eerie.

  At the very end of the shelf was a horse, reared back as if it were jumping or flying, its rear legs and tail disappearing in a swirl reminiscent of a wave. There was something captivating about it, something Otherworldly, that really got Allie’s attention. Ciaran would love this Allie thought, reminded of her kelpie friend who often took the form of a horse. Spontaneously Allie decided to ask if she could have this sculpture for the trade and then she could give it to Ciaran as a gift. “Rose, what about this one? Could I have it for the books?”

  “That one?” Rose sounded shocked. “Are you sure? It’s not even really finished.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “No. I couldn’t get the base to hold the weight the way I wanted so I just left it and moved on to another project.”

  Allie blinked, and then looked again at the sculpture. It seemed perfect as it was to her. “I love it. It’s gorgeous. Are you sure I can’t have it?”

  “Of course you can have it if you want it, although I’ll need to pop it in the kiln and finish it. But it doesn’t seem a fair trade.”

  Allie worked up her courage to reach out and gently touch the cold clay horse. “It’s more than fair. It’s perfect.”

  “Well if you’re sure? I can have it ready by Saturday, if you’d like.”

  “I’m positive,” Allie said. I’ll give the horse to Ciaran she thought, pleased, and I’m sure he’ll see it the way I do. It’s been too long since I visited with him. Allie had always tried to get out to the pond the kelpie lived in, which was in the woods behind her house, at least every few weeks. But her bad ankle made the short hike across the rough terrain so painful that in the last six weeks she had only been out once. Hopefully he would forgive her absence if she came bearing such a special gift.

  Rose was watching her admire the horse with a small smile. “You know you remind me a lot of my youngest daughter. She just started college this year and she gets that same look on her face sometimes. Like she’s watching the statues move in her head.”

  Allie laughed. “She sounds like someone I’d like. But I’m far too old to be your daughter.”

  It was Rose’s turn to laugh. “I just said I have a daughter in college – and that’s my youngest! – don’t even ask me how old my oldest is. You barely look old enough to be in college yourself.”

  Allie blushed and then found herself speechless. She really liked Rose and she wanted the other woman to like her too. But not everyone reacted well to finding out about her mixed heritage which is why she often hid it. On the other hand it seemed terribly unfair to stand there surrounded by expressions of Rose’s art, pieces of her soul, and hide such an essential part of herself. Allie tried to make herself say the words but they just wouldn’t come, so finally, feeling foolish, she reached up and awkwardly pushed her hair behind her ears.

  “Oh,” Rose exclaimed, and then put her hand over her mouth looking as embarrassed as Allie felt. “I’m sorry. I’ve never met an elf before.”

  “I’m not an elf,” Allie said tensely, “my mother was. And I’m thirty-seven by the way. It’s hard to judge age though with people who have mixed ancestry.”

  To Rose’s credit despite being a bit stunned she made a real effort not to show it, “Well you were right then. I’m only fifty-two so I’m a smidge young to be your mother.”

  Allie smiled tentatively, “You know when I first met you I thought you were younger than I am.”

  Rose laughed loudly at that, “Now you’re putting me on.”

  “No really. Elves and Fairy creatures don’t lie you know, it’s foreign to their culture, and I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, “Allie smiled, relaxing as Rose seemed to accept the revelation of her heritage, and risked teasing the other woman a little, “Although you should know I’m horrible at guessing people’s ages.”

  Rose kept laughing, shaking her head slightly, “I believe it, if you thought I was in my thirties. Lord knows some days I wish I was, but fifty-two’s not so bad either.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Well, you just made my day for sure. That’s as good as getting carded at the liquor store,” Rose smiled and walked over to get her tea, now cooled down enough to drink.

  Allie went back to admiring the different statues. It was hard for her to believe they had been made entirely with human skill and not magic.

  “You know Allie I was serious about wanting you to model for me,” Rose said from the little table where she was sitting and drinking. “I can really see you in this piece I have in mind.”

  “Oh I couldn’t,” Allie said immediately.

  “Why not?” Rose asked, her tone perfectly reasonable.

  “Well, I just…I mean…me? Why me?”

  “Why not you?” Rose asked, looking at Allie thoughtfully over the top of her mug.

  Allie opened and closed her mouth a couple times, trying to explain. “There’s just nothing special about me that you’d need me to sculpt. Anyone else could do it. I’d feel silly.”

  Rose was quiet for a while contemplating the younger woman. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” she said finally. “You might feel silly at first, most people do, but I think you’d find it quite empowering.”

  Allie bit her lip, “I don’t know. I just can’t see a sculpture of me not looking boring next to all of these.”

  “Trust me,” Rose said, amused,” None of my work is ever boring. Not even the mistakes and ones that don’t work out the way I planned.”

  Allie hesitated. Thinking about mistakes made her think about the spell she had cast on herself and Jess. It occurred to her that this might be a chance to get some impartial feedback. And she didn’t exactly have anyone else to talk to about it, short of calling a psychic hotline. “Rose, I know we don’t know each other very well, but can I ask you a personal question?”

  The other woman looked curious, “Sure, go ahead. If it’s too personal I just won’t answer it.”

  Allie smiled at that, then sobered. “How do you make a relationship work?”

  Rose’s eyes went wide, “Well you don’t ask the easy ones do you!”

  “I guess not. I’m just in this situation. Very, very complicated situation. Long story. But I’m with someone I really like and things are starting to get weird with us. But I don’t know why and I don’t really have any experience with this sort of thing,” Allie said, hoping that was coherent enough for Rose to follow.

  She nodded slowly, “Have you talked about it with this person?”

  Allie looked at her blankly.

  “I thought so. That right there is probably a big part of your problem,” Rose said sagely.

  “Huh,” Allie said. “Yeah, I can see that not talking might be bad. But do you really think he wants to be bored with all my little problems?”

  “Oh honey,” Rose said, gently, “if he loves you then of course he wants to hear about whatever is going on with you. Don’t you want him to talk about his problems?”

  Allie looked down, “You’re pretty good at this relationship advice.”

  Rose laughed,
“Good to know. If my art career ever falls through I can become one of those old ladies who writes an advice column and tells everyone how to fix their lives.”

  Allie giggled at the idea. “Thanks Rose. For the advice and the sculpture. I need to get back to my store soon but I’m glad I came out to see you.”

  “Anytime Allie,” Rose said sincerely. “And stop by Saturday – I’ll have the statue all set for you to pick up.”

  ***********************************

  Allie pulled over halfway back to downtown and called Jess on her cell phone. He sounded tense and unhappy, but when she asked if he could meet her out at her house again that night he agreed readily enough. When Allie got back to the store the glass had been replaced and Riordan and Smythe were just packing up.

  “Perfect timing,” Smythe said, cheerfully. “We’re done here but we need your signature on a couple things.”

  Allie nodded and signed where they pointed, for once not bothering to read what she was signing.

  Riordan handed her his card, “I don’t know if you still have the old one, or remember my number, but take this anyway, and if anything else happens – and I mean anything – call me right away.”

  She nodded again, “Of course, and thanks.”

  “Don’t worry, if we can find this guy we will.”

  “I hope you can find him,” Allie said sincerely, waving as the two detectives left.

  Feeling like it was a waste she nonetheless went in and opened the store for what was left of the day. She busied herself sweeping the broken glass up from inside, in front of the new windows. As she swept she felt a growing sense of anger and injustice. It burned in the pit of her stomach like a live coal. She worked hard for her business and it seemed horribly unfair that someone was so bent on harassing her here.

  Unbidden an image from her grandmother’s grimoire came into her mind. A spell to punish a transgressor. It would be so easy Allie thought. The book was full of terrible things but that one little spell wasn’t so bad. It just punishes someone who deserves punishing. What are the odds that the police will actually catch the person who has been doing this? Not very good. What are the odds that they’ll do something else to make me suffer? Pretty good. Why shouldn’t I do something to stop them? Why shouldn’t I make them suffer the way I’m suffering? I’m a witch but I’m not doing anything about any of this.