The Road to Bedlam

by Mike Shevdon

  "Right." There was another pause. "Hear anything?"

  "Only you."

  "Right."

  We all kept silent, not ten yards apart. I waited to see what they would do.

  "Shall I call for backup?"

  "No. It'll be over by the time they get here."

  "We should report it."

  "We will. See anything?"

  "No, it's getting dark."

  "Yeah, that's how it goes."

  Keeping a reassuring grip on my umbrella, I moved quietly back down the alley to the garages. I had been right to be cautious. While I had seen no sign of weapons, I had the distinct impression that these people were armed, or at least one of them was. What were they going to do, shoot me? For what? What about human rights? Then I realised that human rights probably didn't apply to people who weren't entirely human.

  I had disappeared off the radar as far as the authorities were concerned. I no longer paid tax, owned a flat, had a job that could be called a job or even had a bank account. My life had been cleaned up and cleared away. It made me feel suddenly vulnerable. They could kill me and no one would ever know. The way fey magic worked, if I was killed, my own power would be released and it would consume my remains, leaving only dust. There wouldn't even be a body to explain.

  I was used to a world with rights and obligations. As long as I lived peacefully and paid my taxes I expected to be left alone. But I no longer paid taxes, the umbrella I carried was really a sword and my loyalty was not to any human authority.

  I walked through the garages and cut back to the street, turning away from the house and feeling isolated and exposed. Wrapping the dark around me like a shadow, turning away glances and avoiding notice. Part of me wanted to go back. Part of me wanted to return to the car and show them what being fey really meant. I knew if I used my training and my power, two men with guns would be no match for me. I could kill them both before they even saw me.

  The anger boiled up in me, making me squeeze my fists together. They took my daughter and now they were denying me access to my ex-wife. Even though Katherine and I were no longer married, even though she had Barry to care for her, I still felt protective about her. How dare they camp outside her house, waiting to see if I would appear. What did they think they were doing, protecting her?

  It was that thought that killed the anger for me. What were they protecting her from? Where was the monster?

  That would be me.

  I stopped. I was walking around the streets blindly, just as likely to walk into trouble as away from it. I needed to get my head together and start behaving like a Warder. What had Garvin said? I needed to find out about them while they were looking for me. Well, I had learned something – several things.

  I knew they were watching places I was known to frequent. I knew they had a way of detecting fey magic, probably using some sort of heat sensor. They had mentioned the fall in temperature and that would make sense. Any strong use of power triggered a cooling in the general area, indicating that fey magic might be close by. I had the strong impression they were armed and that they were prepared to use their weapons.

  I wondered how much of this Katherine knew. Did she even realise she was being watched? She had no reason to be suspicious and if she wasn't looking for it, she probably wouldn't notice.

  I'd been making my way through the estate until I reached a particular cul-de-sac. Recent experience made me cautious. I stepped into the shade of an overhanging tree and merged with the shadows there. Glamour used very little power and would not cool the air around me. I shifted appearance and became an old man out for an evening stroll, my umbrella now a walking stick. I stepped out from under the tree, moving slowly and gently, as an old man might.

  The kerbs here were crowded with cars and vans. Most of the houses had been extended at some point, leaving no room for a garage. With two or three cars to each family, parking was at a premium. I did a full circuit of the cul-de-sac, stopping to look at an interesting shrub outside one house. There were lights on and in the upstairs room at the front the window was ajar and I could hear a radio playing. I knew this house. I had dropped Alex off here many times for sleepovers and homework sessions. It was Kayleigh's upstairs window that faced the front and it sounded as if she was in her room.

  I continued my walk, finding all the cars unoccupied.

  "You all right, Grandad?"

  Two large lads walked towards me, just as I reached the road.

  "What's that?" I growled, preparing myself for an assault.

  "I said, are you OK, Grandad? You were looking a bit lost. A bit deaf, are ya?"

  "I'm quite well. thank you, young man, and I can hear perfectly well."

  "All right, keep yer 'air on and mind your step. It's getting dark."

  They walked past, and I watched them cross the end of the road and walk on into the evening. They were just lads out for a walk, or on their way to the pub, maybe. They still made me jittery. Being ultra-careful, I walked back around the cul-de-sac the other way. Every few yards I stopped, as if for a rest, and used a little power to create a concealment around me, cooling the surroundings. Each time I listened carefully for an alarm, seeing no one and nothing.

  A lady came out of one of the houses with a dog and bid me a good evening. The dog growled at me in an uncertain way until the owner yanked the lead and told it to stop being silly. Even so, it watched me as it was led away out of the Close. I followed it slowly until I reached the end of the Close again. Opposite was a small park with a few swings, a seesaw and a roundabout. There were some seats where parents could sit and watch the children play in the daytime, only now one seat was occupied by a pair of teenage lovers who were focused entirely on each other. On the swings nearby a small group of lads were trying to impress two teenage girls by engaging in the sort of antics that consistently failed to impress while simultaneously providing an opportunity to lose several teeth. One was standing on the swing with one leg while hanging from the chain by one arm, jerkily swinging back and forth.

  I walked slowly across to the park and sat on one of the vacant benches as the twilight slipped into nighttime. Carefully and slowly I drew a stronger and stronger concealment around me. Gradually the temperature in the park fell. The lovers cuddled together while the teenage girls zipped up fleeces and said they were cold. The gang coalesced, leaving the swings oscillating wildly, and called to the couple to follow. They lingered a moment more, pressed to each other, and then moved off, the girl wrapped in under the boy's arm, soft murmurings between them.

  I needed to talk to Kayleigh. She was the only living witness to Alex's accident, and I needed to know what happened. I could call at the door, but then it would be Kayleigh and her parents. Although I knew her parents, we were acquaintances rather than friends. They had probably been told to look out for me.

  This was a conversation I needed to have with Kayleigh alone. I was making some wild guesses and I needed to know whether they were correct.

  I let the night gather around me and watched the dog lady return down the road. The dog kept looking nervously towards the park, though to my relief it did not howl. When it was fully dark I walked back across the park to where a van was parked against the kerb. It said 'No Tools Left Overnight' on the back and the windows were silvered to prevent anyone from seeing inside. The mirrored glass was what I needed.

  Focusing, I placed my hand upon the glass. This would be more complicated than I had attempted before. To make it easier, I tried to break it into stages. The concealment was first, then came the glamour.

  I knew my daughter well. I had held her as a babe and carried her on my shoulders. I had comforted her while she cried and hugged her when she laughed. I had never looked like her before, though, and it felt very strange. The difference in size was difficult. It took more power to change size as well as shape, but for this it would be necessary. I needed to be convincing.

  I felt my body shifting around me, more than an image, less than a
shape. I held the image of my girl in my head until her hair tickled about my neck and my frame felt lithe and light. I opened my eyes and stared at the reflection of my lost daughter.

  I reached out with my fingertips to touch the reflection. It blurred and when I blinked my eyes clear I was looking at my own face again. Damn, this was difficult. It ought to be easy. There was no one in the world I knew better. I knew every curl, every inch of her, yet every time I tried to build her image it slipped from me. I could hold it for a second, but then it would unravel. It was as if I could not accept so profound a change.

  All I really needed was her voice. Perhaps that would be easier.

  "Hello?" It sounded odd, hearing it from inside myself when I had only ever heard it from her.

  I tried again.

  "Can you hear me?" This time it sounded like her, though not like her. Voices sound different when it's you that's speaking.

  I looked into my face reflected in the glass and heard my words echoed in her voice. "My poor lost girl. I will find you. Trust me."

  I looked around, checking again that there was no one nearby. I put my hand on the mirrored van window and whispered into the glass.

  "Kayleigh?"

  The glass clouded under my hand and cooled. The sound of a radio emerged, with the gentle scraping and shuffling of writing. I listened for a few moments, and could hear no other presence.

  "Kayleigh, can you hear me?"

  There was a sudden sharp breath, the sound of a glass being knocked over, liquid spilling out, a chair scraped back.

  "Who is it? Who's there?"

  I waited a moment. It wouldn't help me to scare her witless.

  "Kayleigh, it's me. Are you alone?"

  "Alex…? Is that you? Alex, you're dead."

  "I'm not dead. I need you to do something for me. Are you alone?"

  "Who is this? This isn't funny."

  I had to take a gamble. I had to convince her. The last thing I wanted was her tearing down the stairs, shouting that her room was haunted. I had a hunch that Kayleigh knew more than she had told anyone. Alex had shared everything with Kayleigh. If anyone knew the truth it would be her. It was just a matter of teasing it out of her.

  "You have to trust me. You know my special secret – it's about that. You remember, don't you?" It was like dangling a line, waiting for a bite.

  There was a pause. "I promised. You made me promise I wouldn't say anything. I haven't told anyone."

  So there was a secret. I was right.

  "I know. I trust you. But I need you to do something."

  A voice came from downstairs. "Kayleigh? Who are you talking to? Is that the phone?"

  There was a scuffling sound.

  "It's OK. It's the radio."

  "It sounded like you were talking to someone." There was concern in the tone.

  "It's OK. I'm fine, really."

  "Are you coming down?"

  "In a bit. I'll come down in a while."

  "OK. Have you finished your homework?"

  "Not yet. I'm nearly done. I won't be long."

  "Don't work too late, honey."

  "I won't."

  I heard the door slide gently closed.

  "Alex?"

  "I'm here."

  "Where are you? Everyone says you're dead."

  "I know. It's hard to explain. I need you to trust me. My dad's waiting down in the park at the end of your road. I need you to explain what happened at school to him."

  "Why can't you tell him?"

  "I don't have much time. He's trying to help me. Can you do it?"

  "You made me promise."

  "I know, but he needs your help so he can help me. I don't have much time," I repeated.

  "I'm not allowed out this late."

  "I don't know how long he can stay."

  "OK, OK. I'll try. Tell him to wait."

  "Kayleigh?"

  "Yes?"

  "I know it's been hard. You did the right thing not telling anyone. I have to go."

  "Alex, where are you?"

  "I have to go. Bye."

  I took my hand from the glass. I felt like a complete bastard for deceiving her, but she was the only one who knew what had really happened and she had resisted all attempts to get her to tell the real story. Neither the school nor the police had been able to make her break her promise. She and Alex had been buddies since primary school and the bonds were far stronger than mere authority.

  I walked back across to the park and sat on the bench, allowing my voice to fall back to how it sounded naturally, then letting my glamour fall away completely, becoming Niall Petersen, Alex's dad. Having not worn that shape for months it felt strange. Blackbird was right, using glamour did become a habit.

  I let the concealment around me fade and waited for Kayleigh, watching cars drive by and occasional pedestrians pass. I was beginning to think she had either been caught by her parents or chickened out, when I saw her small figure cross the road.

  She hurried across the park, wrapping her cardigan tight around her.

  "Mr Petersen?"

  "It's me. Is that you, Kayleigh?"

  She hurried across to where the bench seat was, but then stopped short.

  "I'm supposed to tell the police if I see you," she told me.

  "You must do what you think best, Kayleigh."

  "Are you really a terrorist?"

  "Me? No, of course not. Whatever made you think that?"

  "They said you got involved with some bad people last year. They said you might be being forced to co-operate with them. They wanted to know if I saw you, so they could help you."

  "Do I look like I need help?"

  "You went missing, after the memorial service. Is Alex alive?" The change in subject was abrupt.

  "Yes. I think she is."

  "She… she spoke to me. A moment ago in my bedroom. She was in my mirror."

  "That wasn't her, Kayleigh. That was me."

  "You? But…"

  "I know. It's difficult to explain and I can't tell you too much without dragging you into it. You know how serious this all is, don't you? If you tell them, they may want to know what else you know. They will want to know why you didn't tell them before. You're a bright girl, Kayleigh. I've always thought that. You work it out."

  I waited in the dark, deliberately staying seated so that I didn't spook her. I could see the tension in the set of her shoulders, the way she kept wrapping her cardigan around her more tightly. She wanted badly to run for home, but she stayed.

  She looked back to the house and then at me.

  "You're the same as her, aren't you? That's why they're looking for you."

  "Actually, she's like me, but yes."

  "That's how you… got into my mirror. That's how you made it sound like her. You tricked me."

  "I did deceive you, but only so we could speak alone. You wouldn't have come out here just for me."

  "I gotta go." She turned away towards the Close.

  "It went badly wrong that day, didn't it?"

  She stopped.

  "But you knew about Alex before then, before the accident."

  "I can't talk about that. She made me swear."

  "I'm her father, Kayleigh. And what I said to you about her not being dead was true. She is in trouble. She needs my help. And I need yours."

  She spurred herself back into motion, crossing the road and vanishing between the hedges and the row of cars parked at the pavement.

  The urge to chase her and try to pull her back was strong, but that would only make her run and clam up even more. Instead I tried to look as calm and patient as possible. I stayed on the seat, doing my best to look as if I would still be there in the morning when she went to school. I couldn't see whether she was watching me, so I concentrated on waiting. If she had gone inside, I had lost her, at least for now. If not…

  It was a full five minutes before she reappeared. She crossed the road again, walked across the grass and plonked herself down beside
me, folding her arms.

  "It's colder here."

  "Would you like my coat? It'll keep your shoulders warm."

  "No. I'll be OK."

  I waited for her to speak, but she didn't. If it was a contest, I broke first. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

  "I promised I wouldn't tell."

  "Kayleigh, it's dangerous to know any more. If you let something slip they will assume you know much more than you do. They may think you're involved."