“Horse,” Amelia replied.
“You sure it wasn’t just a carriage horse making a break for it?”
“Across the surface of the lake, with a mysteriously drowned body nearby?” Michael asked.
“Oh. No, it’s hard to come up with a non-weird explanation for that.”
Amelia said, “I’m surprised the kelpie was able to do much of anything in this world. You’d have to believe at least a little bit in order to see it. It’s that sliver of belief that makes a thing like that dangerous—believing enough to see it, but not knowing enough to recognize the danger.”
Michael nodded thanks as Athena handed him a cup. He wrapped his hands around it and let the warmth soothe him before he said, “She might have believed, or at least hoped. She had all kinds of fantasy and fairy-related things in her room. I’d definitely say she was a dreamer.”
“I’m still concerned that this creature was here at all,” Amelia said, frowning. “There have been no documented sightings for centuries. It takes very deliberate effort to get through the barriers between worlds, and a kelpie isn’t as conscious as something like the Hunt.”
“So if things like the kelpie can get through, does that mean other stuff might be happening?” Emily asked, sounding a little too casual, like she was trying to fish for information without rousing suspicions.
“Why? Is something up with you?” Michael asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m not even sure that it’s anything weird. That’s why I wanted to get a second opinion.”
“What is it?” Amelia asked.
“One of our cast members didn’t show up for yesterday’s matinee.”
That instantly caught Michael’s attention because it reminded him of the day Sophie had appeared at his door when Emily didn’t show up for a matinee. “Another fairy abduction?”
“I don’t think so, not unless they gave her back pretty quickly. She was at the theater by the end of the show, on crutches. She said she woke up late and then her foot wouldn’t take her weight. It turned out to be broken, like someone had stomped on it really hard. She has no memory of doing anything but going to bed with a perfectly good foot. She also looked dead tired, but I don’t know if that was pain or something else.”
“There is that sleeping pill that sometimes makes some people do strange things in their sleep,” Michael suggested, even though he knew he was desperately clutching at “normal” straws.
“There used to be stories about humans being taken into the fairy world to dance the night away, then returned to their beds with no memory of the night,” Athena said. “All they knew was that they were exhausted, like they never got any rest. Has she been tired lately, before this incident?”
“I think we’re all tired, all the time,” Emily said. “We work weird hours.” She frowned, considering. “But I think she might have seemed less her usual self the last couple of weeks, now that I think about it.”
“You should ask her if she’s been having strange dreams,” Athena suggested.
“That’s not the only thing I’m worried about. Olivia—you met her, Michael—is her understudy and took over the role, and she was amazing. I knew she was good, but this was beyond anything I’ve seen her do before.”
“Do you think she’s responsible for whatever happened?” Michael asked. Olivia had been one of his suspects when Emily went missing, and though she turned out to have had nothing to do with it, he couldn’t help but wonder about two of Olivia’s friends having things happen to them, especially when she stood to benefit.
Emily frowned and bit her lip. After a pause, she said, “I don’t think so. But there may be something else at work. Maybe someone—or something—else is giving Olivia an opportunity.”
“It could be a leanan sidhe,” Amelia said. “It bears watching because that could be dangerous for Olivia.”
“What’s that?” Michael asked.
“It’s along the lines of a vampire muse,” Athena explained. “It’s a kind of fairy that inspires people in the arts, but it also saps their life force. That explains many poets and artists—a spurt of brilliant creativity, then an early death. Has Olivia seemed tired when she’s offstage? Has her appetite changed?”
“Not that I’ve noticed,” Emily said. “But like I said, we’re all tired.”
“Have you talked to Sophie about this?” Michael asked.
“No! And I’m not going to. She needs a break, and it’s not her job anymore.”
The elderly sisters exchanged a glance that suggested to Michael that they didn’t entirely agree, but neither of them said anything.
“It’s probably nothing,” Emily added. “I’ve become a fairy paranoid, seeing them in everything. But then there’s your magic horse running on water.”
“Yeah, that,” Michael said. “It’s killed at least one person that I know of, and when I looked into it, I found mentions of a few more odd drownings lately. Plus what seem to be a higher than normal number of missing persons. That could just be the holidays coming—people give up on the city and head for home, people start getting the holiday blues and take drastic measures, or it’s the time of year when people look up people they haven’t heard from in a while and get alarmed when they can’t find them.”
Instead of agreeing with him, the sisters traded another of their meaningful looks. Amelia said, “The level of magical activity does seem to be higher. We should all be on the lookout and report strange occurrences.” To Emily, she added, “We may have to bring Sophie in, even though she does deserve a break, because this would fall into her role as enchantress.”
“Can’t you find someone else to complete your group?” Emily asked. “I mean, isn’t it a conflict of interest for one of the people who’s supposed to keep the fae influence out of the human world to be part fae and a crowned fairy queen?”
“If we could find another, we would,” Athena said with a sigh. “The talent has become quite rare. Unless you’d be willing to undergo testing and training?”
Emily seemed to Michael as though she might be considering it, but she shook her head. “Nope, you’re not dragging me into this. It would be cool to have magic, and if I do, I probably ought to learn to use it, but I have no desire to make a career out of it.”
Amelia regarded them all like a general surveying her troops before a battle. “Emily, you should investigate further about your castmates and keep an eye open for other odd occurrences. I would also recommend doing something to keep you from leaving your home at night.”
“That’s where Beau comes in handy. I don’t think he’d let me get away with sleepwalking.”
Amelia nodded. “Very good. Detective, you should also try to follow the progress of any cases you find odd or suspicious. We will regroup to compare notes.”
Michael was about to ask what he should consider odd when the door jingled open. The latest arrival didn’t duck, but then she wouldn’t need to. Sophie Drake was a little shorter than average, and besides, she probably expected ceilings to raise themselves to accommodate her—and they’d do it, too, if they knew what was good for them.
But she looked very different from how he’d ever seen her before. She was usually dressed less casually than most other people her age, but she had a retro fresh-faced girl-next-door quality about her. Today she looked like a modern city sophisticate, complete with makeup and heels. “Oh my, the gang’s all here,” she said.
“I didn’t know you were in town, Soph,” Emily said.
“I had a meeting this morning and I’m dancing this afternoon, so I thought I’d stop by.”
“Dancing?” Emily asked.
Sophie appeared to be trying to play it cool, but even her rather remarkable reserve failed and she grinned. “They want me to take over the Snow Queen in The Nutcracker. Well, maybe. That’s what this afternoon’s about, to see if I can pull it off.”
Emily launched herself at her sister and caught her in a hug that pulled her briefly off her feet. “That’s awe
some! So you’ll be moving here!”
“I don’t know about moving. It’s just the one role.”
“I think even Mama would figure out something was up if you were commuting to New York from Louisiana.”
Sophie sighed. “You’re right, I suppose. I’ll have to figure something out if it comes through.”
“We have a spare room,” Athena said with a quick glance at her sister. “It’s just the old maid’s room, but you’re welcome to stay there until you need to make a decision about a more permanent move.”
“That’s awfully sweet of you,” Sophie said, clearly hedging.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Amelia said. “But what happened? Doesn’t the ballet open next week? We have tickets for the preview night.”
“The dancer portraying the Snow Queen had a sudden injury. I’ve been taking classes in the city and ran into someone I knew from the company, back when I danced with them. When this happened, the director remembered that I danced this ages ago and wanted to see if I could fill in. That way he wouldn’t have to shuffle any other roles around at the last second.”
“Wait, another injured dancer?” Emily asked.
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Another?”
“Someone from my cast has a broken foot. Olivia’s taking over the role, and doing astonishingly well at it. It may or may not be suspicious. Not that I think Olivia’s to blame, but she may be affected.”
“Well, I had nothing to do with this,” Sophie insisted, her pale cheeks getting slightly pinker. “And I don’t think there’s anything supernatural going on here. She’s already had three operations on that foot. Another injury was pretty much inevitable.”
“Just as long as she didn’t wake up in the morning with a suddenly bum foot,” Emily muttered.
“What?” Sophie asked.
“Nothing.”
Sophie shook her head, looking ever so slightly irritated with her sister. She turned to Michael. “And what brings you here? Don’t tell me you’ve started taking tea with the ladies.”
He didn’t want to give her anything else to worry about, so he merely said, “I’m coming around on the idea of tea, especially after working a long, cold night.”
Athena glanced down at the one remaining cup on her tray. “Would you like some?” she asked Sophie.
“No thank you. Not before I have to go dance, and I should probably run.”
She’d only started to turn toward the door when it opened once more. This time, the bells were strangely silent. A woman taller even than Amelia or Emily entered. She looked like a grand dame out of an old movie, right down to the fur collar on her elegant coat. If her hair had been half black and if the coat had been made of suspiciously spotted skin, Michael would have thought Cruella de Vil had come to life.
He turned to glance at the others to see if they were preparing their defenses. The Drakes seemed as baffled by this newcomer as he was, but the enchantresses smiled in welcome.
“Why, Josephine, this is a surprise,” Amelia said, moving forward to do that air-kiss thing Michael thought people only did in movies.
Athena looked at her last teacup and smiled in vindication. “You’re just in time for tea.”
“Obviously, it’s not too big a surprise,” Josephine said in a voice that was surprisingly husky as she gestured at the cup on Athena’s tray. She then glanced at Emily, Sophie, and Michael before giving a pointed look to Amelia.
“Josephine, this is Sophie Drake, the third of our circle, her sister Emily, and Emily’s neighbor, Detective Michael Murray. Josephine Wallace is an old friend of ours from the Philadelphia circle.” At Josephine’s frown, Amelia added, “Oh, it’s okay, they’re all in on the secret.” Michael would have said Josephine wasn’t at all pleased about that, but he couldn’t have said exactly why he had that impression. Her face didn’t seem to have moved at all.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Sophie said, reverting to Southern belle mode. “I wish I could stay and chat, but I really must run.”
“And I need to get going, too,” Michael said. “Nice meeting you.”
“Hang on, Soph, I’ll go with you,” Emily said, rising. “Thanks for the tea. I’ll check back with you two later. Nice to meet you, Josephine. Enjoy your visit.”
She snapped her fingers for Beau, who grunted as he blinked awake and shoved himself to his feet. He trudged over to Emily, who hooked his leash on to his collar.
As soon as they were all out the door and up the steps to the sidewalk, Emily said, “There’s a Philadelphia circle?”
“I think there’s one in every major city and in any other areas where there are a lot of fae incursions,” Sophie said. “Though I think most of the positions are vacant these days.”
“I wonder which one she is,” Emily said, “the maiden, the mother, or the crone.”
“There are roles?” Michael asked.
“It has to do with the facets of womanhood, or something like that,” Sophie said. “I think it’s mostly ceremonial and symbolic. It’s probably meant to create a multigenerational group where the successors are constantly being trained. Traditionally, a woman would move on in the circle as she went through life.”
Michael was about to ask which one Sophie was, but he stopped himself just in time as he realized that there was no way she qualified as a crone in comparison to Amelia or Athena, and she was definitely not a mother. He wondered if “maiden” implied what he thought it did. Judging by Sophie’s rather intense blush, it might.
He decided to nudge the subject back to where it had started. “If Josephine’s here, does that mean something’s up with the enchantresses?” he asked, glancing back toward the shop.
“I hope not,” Sophie said with great feeling. “I do not have time for this right now. I finally got the worst of the queen job off my shoulders.”
“Maybe whatever it is will hold off until after Christmas so you can be the Snow Queen instead of the fairy queen,” Emily said, putting her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “You know, it’s kind of a shame they didn’t need a Sugar Plum Fairy.”
“That would be too much to expect after being off the scene for so long. And it has a big pas de deux, which makes it harder to just step into.”
Emily hugged her to her side. “This is so awesome. Maybe you’ll have a career, after all. You’ll take the ballet world by storm again.”
“Maybe,” Sophie said with a nervous smile. “And here’s my station. I’ll check in with you later.” She waved before disappearing down the stairs into the subway.
“I take it this is a big deal,” Michael said to Emily.
“Uh, yeah. She’s dancing The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center after being away from the dance world for nearly fourteen years. This’ll be front-page news—Sophie Drake’s triumphant comeback after her mysterious retirement while still in her teens.”
“Given recent events, I probably shouldn’t suggest that she break a leg, but I hope it works out for her.”
“So do I, though having my sister in the same city will take some getting used to. Don’t be surprised if someone suddenly moves out of our building and she manages to get that apartment.”
“There’s very little about your sister that surprises me. I’ve learned to expect the unexpected.”
Six
The Theater
10:45 p.m.
As the show built to its climactic finale, Emily felt like she was walking on air. It wasn’t just Olivia tonight. The whole cast was on fire, feeding off each other’s energy. She was sure the whole house felt it. Those lucky enough to be in the audience for this performance would never forget this evening.
But Emily didn’t think this was necessarily supernatural. It was just one of those things that sometimes happened, when everything clicked in a way that affected everyone. This was why people did live theater, even in this day of television, movies, and entertainment at your fingertips on any device you could imagine. You never caught this kind of lightning in a
bottle doing take after take of each scene, with scenes shot out of order, and with no audience other than the crew.
On a night like this, Emily didn’t even mind the scripted kisses with her Mr. Knightley, even though she could barely stand Charles, the actor who played him. Right now, on stage, they were their characters, and their characters were in love. Arm in arm, they sang their final duet, glowing with affection for each other. Their friends and family joined in, enfolding them in a circle of community, paired up like a Noah’s Ark of true love. Olivia, looking blissful with her strapping young farmer, came to stand by Emily’s side, and they exchanged a smile that was about friendship in both reality and fiction.
The song rose to a big finish, and the applause began before the last note ended. The theater exploded with a roar that never faded as the cast took their bows and acknowledged the pit orchestra. Emily lost count of the number of curtain calls they took. When they finally kept the curtain down in spite of lingering applause, Emily and Olivia hugged each other fiercely.
“Oh man, who needs drugs when you can feel like this,” Olivia said, beaming.
“That really was amazing, wasn’t it?” Emily said.
“One for the ages.”
“I’m not sure we can pull that off again, not like that.”
Olivia draped her arm around Emily’s shoulders as they left the stage, where the celebration was still going on. “Oh, I don’t know. I want to do that all the time.”
“So, what theater gods did you make a sacrifice to tonight?” Emily teased. Still, she had to wonder.
“Oh, you know me better than that. I merely said my prayers, like always. I bet my granny put in an extra good word for me tonight.”
Back in her dressing room, Emily had to sit down, suddenly drained of all energy. That tended to happen when adrenaline wore off, but was there something more? Maybe she should have told Sophie about her suspicions. She could sense anything fae going on and scare off anyone who was up to something fishy. In the meantime, Emily decided she could do some investigating.
A Kind of Magic Page 3
