Mismatched Pair

by J. L. Ray

  Tooley flushed. “She doesn’t remember her name, or anything else for that matter. I was calling her Strawberry Shortcake. Her—”

  His mother laughed. “Yeah, that hair. Somthin’ else, ain’t it?” She shook her head. “So this whack job takes your delivery last night, but holds you hostage?” At the question in her voice, Tooley simply nodded. He’d tell her the rest if he had to, but not now, not in front of the girl. He just couldn’t bear for her to know, and he was quite certain his mother would do something stupid, something that might ruin their chances of being together in Mudania, one happy family. It was all he had thought about for the last fourteen years, bringing his mum and brother over.

  “The whack job,” his mother continued, ticking off items on her fingers, “has connections in Fairie to get hot merchandise, like the items you mentioned to me. I get that merch to you, and you get it to her. She wants you to do somethin’ with it?” Tooley nodded grimly. “How’s she gonna do that? The compulsion spell?” He nodded again, hoping she’d move on. Luckily, she did. “Well, the chickee you’re holding hands with is a dead ringer for one of the Mundane fences, the one you sent over to get the boxes last night, only she’s a newer model.”

  Tooley and Berry looked at each other. Then he nodded. “I thought you looked familiar. But the hair, and then your clothes.” He turned back to his mother. “You’re right. She does look like Maybelle, only younger. Berry’s a real Being with a soul, so she can’t be a simulacrum. And I don’t see how they could be related, Mum. She has an extremely high mpsi, and she’s part witch and yet more Mundane than witch.”

  Pernella narrowed her eyes and gave the girl an up and down. “Yeah. It’s a puzzle. But that Maybelle, she was part witch, too.”

  “What?” Tooley exclaimed, shocked that the supposed pure Natty he’d used was anything but pure. “Then why did it work? How did she get through with the items?”

  “She got through ‘cause I helped her with a magical nudge.” When Tooley looked confused, she shrugged. “I gave her my medallion.”

  “Mum! You spent months on that! Now you’ll have to make another.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know.” She sighed. “I figured the payoff’d be worth the time.” At the pained look on her boy’s face, she waved a hand. “Never you mind, kid. I’ll make another. Now look, here’s the real kicker. Winkowski’s contacts here? The ones who brung over them highly illegal artifacts and had us illegally smuggle a Being into Mundania?”

  Tooley nodded, as did Berry, who had been avidly listening though understanding very little.

  “Kid, they know where your brother and I live. They didn’t have us come pick up the loot like I figured on doing. They delivered it to me here before I could contact ‘em.”

  Tooley grabbed his hair in his agitation. “What was I thinking? What was I thinking? We were doing so well. It might have taken a few more years, but we almost had enough money to get you both over! I should never have taken that contract!”

  His mother held up her hand. “Quit your yowling, kid. Them’s the breaks. I guess that Bogey and I are going to have to go into hiding, get rid of the portal and scram.” She looked around her garden, where she grew some of the ingredients for her innocuous little spells that had brought small, steady amounts of money into the Move to Mundania fund, as she thought of it. She sighed. “Just gonna take a while longer, is all.”

  “NO!” Tooley said decisively, dropping his hands to his sides again. “No. We have worked too hard, and you said the Witches’ Council is sniffing around, following up on giant sightings. It’s just a matter of time before one of them breaks through your perimeter alarm and catches Bogey wandering around the woods, playing air guitar.” He put out both of his hands in supplication to his mother. “Do you have any ideas about why this Winkowski bitch might want me for whatever she has planned? Do you know anything about this Mistress? Are Winkowski and the Mistress the same Being? If I knew what she wanted from me, I’d have a better idea of how to avoid giving it to her. And in the meantime, I have no idea what to do about Berry.”

  His mother snorted. “Well, I gotta idea about all this. You’re a male witch, kid. You’re like a white platypus or somethin’ in Mundania.”

  Tooley snorted. “Do you mean a white rhino?”

  His mother brushed the idea aside. “Whatever, kid. Y’know I can’t keep up with all those weird Mundane creatures. Anyhow, what I’m sayin’ is that boys like you are so rare that for thousands of years, witches have been automatically condemning boys with magic-wielding ability to death without even waiting to see if they grew up sane.” Her eyes misted. “I couldn’t do that to you, so I hid your magic, made it register as holder, not wielder. You’re my baby and I love you.”

  Tooley nodded, his voice husky as he said, “I love you, too, Mum.”

  She nodded and dashed away her tears. “So, anyways, kiddo, what that means is that as rare and precious as you are to me, and as dangerous as the Bitches at the Council think you are, this Winkowski whack-job thinks you’re gonna be the thing she needs to pull off whatever scam she’s got in mind. You got power even you don’t know how to use.” Pernella pointed at Berry. “And little Pinky here is the other thing she needs.”

  Berry looked a little alarmed, but having just watched this formidable witch profess her love for the son who had saved Berry from what sounded like a very bad situation, she wasn’t as afraid as she had been ten minutes ago. “What can I do? I don’t even know who I am...Ma’am.”

  Pernella cackled. “Ma’am! Y’slay me, dolly! Call me Pernella.” She frowned and looked at the girl again. “So, ya got no memory whatsoever under that shock of pink fluff?”

  Berry blushed a bit and shook her head. “I woke up and heard Tooley coming down the hall. I peeked through the door of the room I was in and saw him looking through another door. And then I asked him for help.”

  Pernella nodded. “So tell me kid, why did you trust him?”

  “He smelled scared, but determined. I thought I could trust him because he smelled...right.”

  Tooley turned to stare at Berry as his mother put her fedora back on her head, its cocky angle indicating her mood. She slapped both knees and stood back up. “Holy smokes, kid. I am not believing this. I am just not believing this!”

  Tooley folded his arms and shook his head. “Mum, any time you want to let us in on what ‘this’ is, we might figure out how to get us all out of ‘this’ alive?”

  “This ain’t no quick story, son, but you both need to hear it.” She frowned. “Bogart does, too.” She turned around. “Yo! Bogey? Ya done yet?”

  Berry jumped when she heard a voice too loud to be in a body the size of those around her yell, “Not yet, Mommy!”

  “Well, come on over and see your brother! He’s brought a girlee home to meet the family.” She started cackling at the blush on her eldest son’s face. She noticed that Berry didn’t argue. She was getting to like that chickee. She wasn’t much of a talker, but then being an actor and all, Tooley talked enough for two most of the time anyhow.

  “Did you warn your girl about your baby brother?”

  “She’s not...” Tooley rolled his eyes. “I haven’t told her much of anything. I’m not sure what kind of frame of reference—”

  Bogart came running around the corner of the shed, and Berry squeaked.

  “A g-g-giant?”

  Pernella grinned. “Guess she’s got that frame of reference, anyways.”

  “He’s perfectly harmless,” Tooley soothed Berry, who looked pretty shaken for someone who carried a fairly utilitarian sword and knife. “He’s also only fourteen years old.”

  “Hiya Tooley! Hiya girlee! You’ve got pretty, pretty hair!” Bogey grinned. “Is she a Golem? Can you send her over to me?”

  Pernella whacked her youngest on the leg with her broom. “Look here, Bogart. That dolly’s no doll! She’s a real live chickee! Show some manners. She’ll wonder what kind of mother I am.” Berry tried to follow Mi
stress Pernella’s speech, but some of the words made no sense. Chickee seemed to be a reference to young women. But why she was a dolly but not a doll? It made no sense to her at all.

  Bogart grinned and bowed to Berry and Tooley. “Pleased to meet’cha, miss lady with the very pretty hair. You look like a doll my brother gave me when I was little! Strawberry Shortcake!”

  Berry looked up into Bogey’s pleasant features, currently displaying a wide smile and dimples as big as her hands. She couldn’t be afraid of such a creature.

  She smiled back and curtsied. “I am pleased to meet you, Sir Bogart. Your noble brother has rescued me from an evil Being. Indeed, he calls me Berry, in honor of that very creature.”

  Bogey pumped a fist and jumped up and down.

  “Bogart!” his mother rocked and barely kept her feet. “You have to warn me before you do that!”

  “Sorry, Mommy, but Tooley’s a hero!”

  “Of course, he is. Ya both are. Now settle down, ya big palooka. Your Ma’s gotta think.”

  Thinking was serious business, so Bogey got his serious face on. “What do you have to think about, Mommy?”

  “The best way to tell you three a story, a really important story.”

  “Does it have a happy ending?”

  Pernella cackled. “Well, son, that remains to be seen. I’ll tell you this. We are gonna do our level best to make it happy, see?” She nodded and sat back down. Then she looked at the other three. “You mugs might as well get comfortable. We’re running outta time with this portal opening, but this ain’t no short story, and we still gotta work on the ending.”

  They sat down to listen to her tale.

  Tony was losing it. It had been a couple of hours since the PTB courier set out to pass a message to Phil. To Phil and Calvin, dammit. At this point, she was itching to get across the Divide and track them down herself, and she kept getting out of her chair and pacing toward the lieutenant’s door, the door which was clearly shut and staying that way.

  Every time she started over, Baz looked up and watched, unsure of what to do. Her partner was in danger. That was a situation which he understood and for which he felt empathy. Short of going over themselves and tracking them down, there was nothing they could do from this side. And they both needed to be here to play the role of the Sutherlands, if need be. Unfortunately, neither of the smuggling rings had contacted them. They didn’t have a good lead, other than the warehouse. There had been no activity there since last night, and Baz suspected the smuggler would abandon that warehouse for a new one. Last night had not gone smoothly for any of them, and to Baz’s Changeling nose, the fellow had reeked of anxiety, like bad cologne.

  At this moment, with Tony practically bouncing off the walls, Azeem buried in his own investigation, and Baz certain that last night was a dead end, a break finally came. Azeem got a call from the team staking out the warehouse for activity.

  Azeem’s door opened. “Get in here!” he roared, and Tony, already pacing the floor, raced in, Baz just behind her.

  “Sir, have you heard from—”

  Azeem interrupted, “I got a call from the warehouse stakeout. We have movement at the warehouse. Your contact from last night just arrived, and he has a woman with him. They didn’t get eyes on the two, just a quick look, before the suspect drove an old Camry through the warehouse doors. The team has a three hundred and sixty surveillance of the area and hope for a chance to get eyes on.” The traveling eyes sent data straight back to the Argos they belonged to, so it was always good data, admissible in court when needed.

  “None of the prior reports make a mention of this fellow having an accomplice of any kind,” Baz said.

  “Well, nothing in this particular operation on his part matches any of his priors, so I think he’s exploring new ground in his criminal career right now,” Tony countered.

  “Yes, yes, that makes sense.”

  She turned to Azeem. “What’s the plan, sir?”

  “We will watch them and tail them to wherever he lives. If he doesn’t call and connect us to the ring that he’s working with now, then we shall bring him in and try to find out what we can.”

  “I want to be on the tail.”

  Azeem started to argue but realized that it would at least remove from her the temptation to use the nearest portal, three floors down in the SCIB building. He nodded. “You will take Baz with you.” Before she could protest, he added, “I will call if...when I hear from Fairie. You have my word. And Baz, Michael Falk just checked in with me. He hasn’t thrown out any more rashes in the past twenty-four hours. In one week, he will be out of quarantine and back on the job with you.” Azeem drawled as a joking aside, “He said not to get too attached to your temporary partner.”

  Tony and Azeem were surprised at the blush that came over the big Being’s face. “No, no, of course not. I look forward to...yes, it will be good to have Michael back.” He turned to Tony. “We should go.”

  Tony nodded, but after they left the lieutenant’s office, she said, “What about those evidence boxes? Did you tell Bluebeard yet?”

  The palpable sympathy in her voice made it easier for Baz to admit that he hadn’t. “I think it will be easier once we have apprehended someone for something.” He ducked his head and looked over at her. “I thought I was a braver Being, but I am not sure I want to tell him ever.”

  “I think you should at least tell Azeem. Maybe he can run interference.” Tony frowned at the boxes on Baz’s desk as they grabbed their weapons and coats. She had a nagging feeling that the charm they’d accidentally activated would come back to bite them on the ass, but Baz was absolutely certain it hadn’t had the juice to do what it was supposed to do. She just couldn’t remember enough from her courses at the SCIB Academy in Salem to even guess. She should have looked it up instead of pacing the floor like a bad character in a romance novel. Too late for that now. She knelt down and unlocked the drawer where she kept her NASH, a Net-All Supernatural Holder. She pulled the NASH out and checked its settings, then put on her shoulder holster and put the NASH on the opposite side of her Glock.

  When she stood, Baz raised his brows in surprise. “Do you think we will need the NASH? This fellow, Gandalf, you called him? He didn’t seem that formidable.”

  “Yeah, some Supers aren’t formidable, and some Supers don’t look formidable but then some of the worst of them look twelve years old, don’t they? Better too much fire power than too little, says me.”

  Baz leaned over and got his own NASH out. Then he admitted, “I wanted to tell Lieutenant Azeem about the charm, but he had his door shut.” Baz tried to make it sound like he was being considerate instead of dodging a really ugly chore. “I will tell him in person...when we get back. I think he’ll understand.” He paused to think. “I think he won’t kill me, actually. I am not so sure about Bluebeard.”

  “Here’s hoping,” Tony responded as she patted him on the arm. “Come on. I have had enough waiting around for something to happen to last me a lifetime. I need to do something.”

  Baz grimaced at her back as they left. He remembered being that young. Look where it had gotten him.

  Caridwen walked out of Mephistopheles’ office, pleased with her afternoon’s work. Living in Mudania in the body of a Being named Crystal Winkowski, a magical practitioner who had gotten in debt to the wrong people and had agreed to being hag-ridden to pay off that debt, had worked out quite well for her. She was, in fact, pleased all around with the shape her plans were taking. Caridwen only hoped that She would be happy with the results. Pleasing Her had become harder and harder, if for no other reason than that She didn’t always seem to understand what was going on around her or how it could help Her. Some of the high fae never adjusted to Mundania, especially to the changes that time brought, and She was one of them. In Fairie, time passing meant very little in terms of changes. In Mundania, ten years created changes so extreme that it was as if a thousand Fairie years had passed. Mundania moved too fast for many of the
Fairie Folk, and She was one of those kind, the ones who lacked the skill to adapt. What was the name of the Natty who had written that book that still angered many of the less adaptable Natties? Charlie Narwhale? No, Darwin, that was the name. His mantra was adaptation—he had said survival goes not to the highest intellect or the strongest body, but to the most adaptable, or something like that. Caridwen had learned to adapt. If only her partner could.

  “So, luv, how is it then?” Dindle asked Caridwen, having had to leave her in Mephistopheles’ office to work while he dealt with a few problems that had come up while she was “dismantling” the portal. There was no way for him to know that she had arranged for the toilets in the onsite guest suites to back up and erupt just to get him out of the room long enough for her to enact her actual purpose. By the time he had called a plumber and set Elmore to oversee the repair work, she had finished with her own dual plans. To anyone checking, no portal existed and no signature existed, but that had been true before she came. More importantly, it now appeared that no trap door existed.

  Caridwen smiled with pleasure at how well her plan was going. As she noticed Dindle take an inadvertent step back, she tried to tone it down a bit, to simple satisfaction with a job well done. That’s all it was anyway. But she simply couldn’t help it. Every time she thought about the plan and how everything and everyone had fallen into place, she was afraid her smile got far more toothy than needed. She coughed so she could cover the lower half of her face, and Dindle seemed to relax.

  She drew on what still remained of Crystal in this body, which would soon hold nothing of its original owner. “Well, I can tell you that the portal in there was a Tempo, and it had been masked quite well, but it hadn’t been there for very long, so I have destroyed it. It wasn’t easy mind you,” she added, well aware that the GOOEN squad had been called in and had had issues with diagnosis. She couldn’t afford to raise suspicion by making this look too easy for an MP stuck in Mundania. “In fact, I’m quite certain I won’t be able to work for a week while I recover.” She frowned and nodded. “I think I should charge extra for this. It was much worse than I thought. However, now Mr. Mephistopheles has nothing to worry about, nothing at all. I have taken care of everything for him.”