"Sounds good." Maurice looked around for Holly, which had become second nature. He nodded, pleased, when he found her dancing with Diane's father. At least she wasn't sitting by herself in a corner, feeling unwanted and ignored.
"Pete and Meggie are settled. What are we going to do about you and Holly?" Lanie murmured.
Sunday, December 16
Harry felt something buzz and tingle soon after the plane crossed the Indiana/Ohio border. He felt the magic holding off his invisibility flicker and waver, and prayed the flight attendants wouldn't come through first class until he got everything back under control. He glanced across the aisle, where Bethany sat by the window and her father sat next to her. Both of them were asleep. That was a relief. He told himself not to be such a whiny baby. Of course Bethany would want to spend as much time with her father as possible. Still, he felt like his favorite toy had been taken away from him and sat on a shelf just out of reach--or worse, he had to sit by and watch someone else play with his favorite toy--just because he couldn't sit next to her during the flight from Vegas to Ohio. What was wrong with him?
It wasn't like they were an item.
Besides, they had first class all to themselves, so it wasn't like he had to worry about autograph hounds or the modern version of a lounge lizard hitting on Bethany. Her father could certainly keep slimes from drooling on her--if anyone recognized her--and it certainly didn't look like anyone had. His invisibility field, now that he had the controls refined, kept her visible but blurred her features just enough she was unrecognizable. That was what he was being paid for, and other than that aberration when they had nearly kissed, everything was working according to plan.
"Almost there," Mr. Miller said softly, glancing across the aisle at Harry.
"Almost where?" Harry liked the man. The fact that he trusted Harry with his daughter's safety almost from the start meant a lot. Harry didn't even mind answering the questions Mr. Miller threw at him at unexpected times. They were logical questions, showing he had a good grasp of the workings of magic and tried to separate the truth of the Fae and Fae culture from all the smokescreens and legends and fables started by the Ministry of Misinformation. Even discounting all that, Harry just liked the guy. He was a good example of the salt of the earth type of men and women who had settled the wilderness that used to be America.
"Neighborlee." Mr. Miller raised up a little in his seat in a visible attempt to see out the side window next to Harry's seat. "We're probably flying right over it, or close enough that it doesn't matter."
"Flying over..." Harry realized the buzzing tingle of something at work felt stronger, had been growing while he had his pity party. "So what's so special about the place, besides being Bethany Miller's birthplace?"
"As our local comedian says, Neighborlee is the weirdness capital of the United States."
"Is that on a bumper sticker or something? On the billboard as you leave town?"
"That's one of the things that makes us weird. Strange things happen, and outsiders don't seem to notice, or remember very long, while the residents just shrug it off. It's normal for us to have odd things happen. It drives away the people who don't belong and kind of tests and strengthens those of us who choose to live there." He glanced at Bethany, who was still asleep, and met Harry's gaze again. "I think you'll have a good time there. Bethie will certainly enjoy being home. And able to run around outside of town without being mobbed."
"What about inside town?"
"That's the nice thing about Neighborlee. Folks will leave her alone if she wants to be. And folks who won't be polite have a hard time finding her."
"Convenient. I suppose you can't figure out what causes this and put it in a bottle, maybe something Bethany can inoculate herself with, to protect her when she isn't home?"
"I wish." He sighed. "My Bethie has been gone too long. She needs to recharge badly. A lot of the time, it's hard for her to get the time alone to just wander up and down the streets and meet old friends. You'll help her do that. She needs that more than she needs anything else."
"Gottcha."
Harry mulled what Mr. Miller said while the plane made its approach to Cleveland Hopkins airport. Maybe this was the answer to how Bethany had an air of magic that clung to her, and yet had no inherent magic born into her. She had absorbed magic from the land and air.
So that hypothetical answer led to another question--what was the source of magic in Neighborlee? It had to be strong, well-grounded, if the magic it emanated seeped into the air and ground and water, so that people could soak it up.
So did that mean everybody in Neighborlee had magic?
No. He shoved that idea away immediately--Mr. Miller didn't have magic seeping out of him. If the magic in Bethany came from living in Neighborlee, her father should have even more magic. So that brought Harry back to square one. There was something special about Bethany that made her susceptible to soak up magic.
That answered the question of what he had felt when they flew over Neighborlee. Whatever was there was the source of Bethany's magic--maybe.
Harry closed his eyes as the plane descended to the runway, and muffled a groan. Every time he thought he had some answers, he got more questions, or found something that contradicted his theory. He was as close to answering the question of Bethany's magic as he was to turning off the wonky invisibility spell that had plagued him for so long.
"I should have listened to Mother," he muttered, as the plane gently bounced down on the runway. Then he gasped as insight slammed into him with near-blinding brilliance.
Maybe Bethany got her magic or susceptibility to magic from her mother, who had died when she was nine.
* * * *
"What's wrong?" Bethany whispered, as her father turned down the main drag running through Neighborlee. She had taken the back seat, insisting that Harry had to take the front seat and get the ten cent tour of her hometown. She rested her arms on the back of his seat and leaned close enough she could smell the clean scent of his hotel soap.
Or maybe that was Harry himself. She sighed quietly, not at all amazed that everything about him was nice.
"There's...strong magic in this town, that's all. It's kind of like going home, without all the hassle of relatives asking what I've been doing, how long I'm staying home, and if I... Ah, never mind."
Bethany muffled a giggle when she saw how the tips of his ears got deep red. Too bad he would be wearing a stocking cap when they went outside, to hide his pointed ears. Then again, so many odd things got overlooked in Neighborlee, Harry probably could go around bareheaded, and blushing so hard his ears glowed, and nobody would notice.
"Are you sure you won't stay with us?" her father asked. "There's plenty of room."
"You don't really need me to shield Bethany, now that she's home. At least, not around the house. I'll be more effective if I'm able to move around and get a feel for the town, who belongs and who doesn't." Harry looked over his shoulder, meeting her gaze. Bethany loved his crooked, half-shy grin. "I can imagine a bunch of the real die-hards realizing you're not in Hollywood, and coming here to try to track you down. Especially if they know where you really come from. With the Internet..." Again that grin. "It's easier to find out what's what than if I used the Ether Lexicon."
"What's that?" Mr. Miller asked, his tone so eager Bethany sank back in the seat, muffling her giggles with both hands over her mouth.
"It's a book that's as large or as small as you need it to be. It contains answers to everything, but you have to know what the right questions are."
"So if some of the loonies who won't let me have a minute of privacy got hold of the Ether Lexicon, they'd know where I am right this moment?" Bethany shuddered, not sure she liked this glimpse into how things were run among the Fae.
"If the Lexicon thinks it's worthwhile to follow what you're doing. It might just decide the person asking is being rude, and refuse to answer."
"It sounds like this thing is alive," Mr. Miller said.
/>
"Kind of. It can think, it can make connections and sometimes even figure out what you want before you do. It's that old, it's that full of knowledge. And it gets bigger all the time, as more things are learned and Fae do more things."
"Cool." Bethany sighed as her father came to the stop sign in front of the Neighborlee Arms. "Here we are. I'll be back in two hours, and we'll go on a walking tour, okay?"
"Sounds good." Harry turned and looked at the front door of the stately old building, his tone fading out a little and his expression growing distracted.
Bethany knew that look--she had grown up seeing it on her father's face, heard the same sound in his voice. Something had caught his attention and all his concentration was being drawn away from her. Having grown up in Neighborlee, she knew the possibilities were endlessly wonderful and weird.
Harry got out and her father popped the hatch so he could walk around to grab his duffle and suitcase. Bethany waved and watched him walk to the front steps of the old hotel. She turned, trying to keep Harry in sight as her father drove away--home.
* * * *
Harry felt his anti-invisibility spell wavering as he signed into the Neighborlee Arms. With all the theories bouncing around in his head and the sensations vibrating through the ground and air and ether, it was no wonder he had a hard time concentrating.
The strongest sensations told him there were several Fae nearby. If not physically present in the old hotel that moment, they had spent enough time in the building to generate a resonance. It was similar to someone with a strong aroma leaving an impression of his presence behind after he exited a room.
Holding onto his patience--and visibility--Harry kept a pleasant expression on his face, an even, casual tone to his voice, and avoided thrumming his fingers on the counter as he waited for the chatty young man at the counter to finish signing him into his room and hand him the key. Harry knew many eyes would be watching him as he climbed the stairs. He was a stranger here. No doubt a number of people saw him get out of the Millers' car. Small towns being what they were, word was already spreading that not only was Bethany home for Christmas, but she had brought a young man who was not staying at their home with her and her father.
"You think you know everything, but you don't know anything," Harry muttered, once he had his second floor room's door safely shut behind him. He cast up a muffling spell so that someone standing outside his room with their ear or a stethoscope or a glass pressed to the door wouldn't hear what he said or did, even if he played a bass drum.
Sighing with relief, he let go of the anti-invisibility spell wrapped around him and felt the faint tingling fade to nothing. His hand and arm went invisible, and the rest of him did so after a few moments more. He felt as if a heavy blanket that swaddled all his senses had been pulled away.
"Now for the first big question." He called up the power he no longer expended on being visible, and called for the Ether Lexicon.
It popped into his outstretched hands, appropriately shaped like the old-fashioned hotel register he had signed moments ago. Three names flashed through a rainbow of colors among all the faded, muted, black ink smears of ordinary Humans signing the guest register.
"Willfred and Philomena and Angeloria. Interesting. What are they doing in town?" Harry muttered.
The Lexicon wasn't forthcoming with that information, but it did tell him that all three Fae were somewhere else, not currently in the hotel. None of them were together. Harry didn't know Will and Phill personally. They were explorers, making a good name for themselves and a good living exploring the Human world and finding explanations for things and practices that had been puzzling the more sheltered, isolationist Fae for centuries. As for Angeloria, the less time he had to spend in her presence, the happier he would be. They weren't enemies, but some painful childhood stupidity was better left forgotten, and she was a large part of it.
After getting more thoroughly settled in his room, Harry decided it was time to do some reconnoitering of his own, before Bethany came back for him. He set himself an internal timer so he could be back to the hotel before Bethany arrived. Then he sent out a locator, to pinpoint where each of the other three Fae were.
Phill was nowhere within a thousand miles. Lori was on the far side of the town. Will was closest. That suited Harry perfectly. He left the hotel and less than two minutes later found Will sitting in the big picture window of the Sipping Post, the coffee shop right next door to the Neighborlee Arms. Harry had always faintly loathed Fae men like Will, handsome, elegantly casual in jeans, a bulky black sweater, and a vest jacket, relaxed and assured.
Or maybe not so relaxed and assured. Something was distracting him, or Will would have sensed the locator that brought Harry to him. At the very least, he should have muted it or twisted his path into a couple of time-devouring detours and knots, if not deflected it outright.
He sat there, one elbow on the little table, gazing out at the street with a glum, almost forlorn expression. Interestingly, every time a woman with long black hair walked past in the ten minutes that Harry stood and observed him, Will would sit up and his eyes would start to brighten. Then something about the woman would disappoint him and he would slump over the table again.
Lose something? Harry asked as he approached the door of the coffee shop. He raised his gloved hand to catch Will's attention. Mental contact was a courteous warning. Nothing like sneaking up on another Fae and startling him into shooting off sparks or vanishing outright. He was doubly sensitive to such tricks. His latest theory was that someone or something had startled him while he was working his invisibility spell as a child, leading to his current condition.
Has Neighborlee suddenly become the place to be for Fae out on adventures? Will asked, offering a weary smile. He gestured at the chair next to him. Harry nodded thanks for the invitation and sat down.
"Gorgeous day." He hated inane, useless conversation, especially when he wanted to know what Will and Phill were doing in Neighborlee. It made perfect sense that they were here investigating the power that pulsed through the whole town, but it was more polite to ask. And it was easier on him to use vocal communication when he maintained his anti-invisibility spell for the sake of all the people around them.
"Supposed to get even more gorgeous as Christmas approaches." Will came alert, sitting up straighter as yet another lithe figure topped with long, black, curly hair strolled past.
Harry nearly laughed aloud when he realized what Will was on the alert for--Phill. He had only glanced long enough at their images in the Ether Lexicon to be able to identify them on sight. How could he be so oblivious, not to make the connection right away?
"So, where's Philomena?"
"She blew a couple dozen fuses at me the other day and split into a parallel dimension." Will snorted when Harry stiffened at the carelessness of his words. "You obviously don't know anything about Neighborlee, do you? You can have conversations like this all the time, and people mostly ignore you. I still haven't figured out if it's some sort of low-level masking and mild general amnesia spell, or if people are just so used to off-beat things happening--off-beat for Humans, anyway--that they ignore it. Or the fact they have a really, really active Star Trek club that plays with every known science fiction and fantasy universe. I've been here when they've been having a convention or one of their spring rites parties, and people are walking around town in full costume. Doesn't faze anybody." He settled back in his chair, deliberately turning away from the window. "So, what does bring you here?"
"Work, actually. I'm guarding a local celebrity, helping her move through the crowds, semi-invisible. Give her some breathing room."
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Bethany." He nodded. "You treat her right, understand? I watched her grow up. Besides, she's under Angela's protection."
"Angela?"
"I suppose I should give you the fifty cent tour, warn you about the trouble spots, the hot spots." His grin grew a little wider, a little more secure. "Then there's Mauric
e." He shook his head.
"Maurice?" Harry wondered if somehow he had fallen into one of those role playing game books some Humans were fond of a few years ago, where there were choices to make on every page, and each choice took the reader or player in a new direction.
Maybe a questing spell had gone awry years ago, soaking into the air and soil and water of this town before there were even people, and that's what caused all the off-beat occurrences?
"Angela is the town's guardian. Along with a couple other people who have grown up here, kind of soaked up the energy, I guess you'd say."
"Ah ha. And Bethany is one of the town's guardians? I knew the minute I met her that there was some sort of magic in her, but she doesn't exactly have magic, per se."
"Lots of that going around in a town like this." He tapped his cup of hot chocolate with a peppermint stick in it. It filled, and a second one appeared next to it.
"Thanks." Harry inhaled the rich scent of dark chocolate. He needed that more than some Humans needed aspirin and Prozac and a complete drug store's inventory of herbal remedies.
"My pleasure. The folks who run this place won't mind, which is why I don't normally do it, but..." He tipped his head toward the back of the coffee shop, where the two lines waiting for service were four people long, each. "So, how'd you get the gig helping Bethany do the 'Don't notice me' game?"
Harry sighed. Even worse than getting periodic lectures from relatives on his foolish carelessness so many years ago, was telling a total stranger his background. Especially one who definitely needed some cheering up and who struck Harry as a possible friend and ally. Especially if he could explain certain things about Neighborlee that would make Harry's investigation a lot simpler and shorter. Taking a deep breath, Harry explained with as few words as possible about his accident, accompanied by images that went straight from his memory to Will's consciousness, to illustrate what words sometimes could not explain.
Have Yourself a Faerie Little Christmas Page 13
