by Linda Welch
Royal sat slightly hunched, coiled like a spring about to sproing at any second, contained inside himself. Chris crossed one knee over the other and examined his fingernails as if he found them fascinating. Maggie went to the window and looked out.
River eyed the men quizzically as he worked. “I was full of questions when I came here, drove Rain crazy with them. I’m surprised you haven’t said a thing about what you saw in the streets.”
“What can we say?” Chris slightly lifted one shoulder. “We’ve never seen anything like them.”
“No. But I’m sure you’ve read about most, though any similarity to their description in Upside tales and lore is questionable.” He finished polishing his pistol and settled it in the holster.
“I have a question,” Chris said.
River cocked an inquiring eyebrow. “Go ahead.”
“What are you?”
He smiled slightly. “I thought you realized when Rain told you about Castle. He was a wraith, so are Rain and I.”
Whoa. I had no inkling he wasn’t human.
“You? My dear fellow, surely you jest.”
River’s lips quirked. “Rain told me we were given the name long ago by those who couldn’t decide whether we’re living or dead. Our flesh is mutable. We can be as solid as you or, as we say, shed it, let it melt away into the atmosphere, until, perhaps, we resemble wraiths as they’re imagined. We can, if we want, disperse every particle of flesh, blood, bone, sinew. Until. . . .”
Bet I wasn’t the only one holding my breath.
“Until?” Chris prodded.
River shifted his shoulders. “What do you think?”
I guessed Castle had returned when River looked aside and said, “Before you say anything, can you see if Rain’s heading back? Save having to repeat yourself.”
An instant later he said, “Rain’s on her way, here in a minute or two.”
Royal and Chris thrust to their feet, eyes on the door. Rain burst in soon after.
During the next few eerie minutes we watched Rain and River listen to what we didn’t hear, their expressions rapidly changing.
“Well damn.” River deposited himself on the sofa. Rain plopped beside him, their shoulders touching.
“Castle found rooms and passages under the house Arthemy is leasing,” Rain began quietly. “And in those rooms. . . .”
She looked into the distance as she put up one hand, as if to keep us silent while she composed herself, or listened to her invisible partner.
“Castle found bodies in one room. Male and female, decapitated, burned, body parts in a heap, heads missing. He thinks nine people, although deciding what parts belonged to which body was difficult. Two dryads in another room. In the third, four humans: two women, a man and an adolescent boy.”
Thinking of the nine victims, I got the oddest feeling, as if I inhaled enough gas to make me dizzy. It took me back to the beginning when the Charbroiler used Jacob to find and destroy Gelpha. He took off their heads and burned their bodies, thinking they were vampires and it was the only way to stop them resurrecting.
It is also a surefire way to kill a Dark Cousin.
I gave Maggie a verbal nudge, “Psst, Maggie we’re on again.”
As she shut her eyes, I told her what to say. “Can Castle describe the four prisoners?”
Rain cocked her head, listening. “One woman has pale skin and long dark hair, the other has dark skin and curling black hair. The young man has olive skin and long black hair, and the boy is tanned with long blond hair.” She listened again. “Castle says not blond, true yellow, an unusual color.”
I knew someone who fitted the description. “You said they’re human, but you thought Royal and Chris were human.”
The two exchanged a look before returning their quizzical gazes to us. “They’re Gelpha?”
Chris and I were on the same page. “Not Gelpha but we share the same origins.” He massaged his chin with one hand. “You could say we’re cousins.”
I jumped in again. “The boy Castle described . . . Teo Papek, Shan’s son.”
“Living and dead, there are thirteen. Less than a score of Cousins survive,” Royal said. “Or did.”
Did Gia Sabato’s body lie among the charred remains? A sharp pang accompanied the thought she might be dead. It came from a memory: a single tear slipping down Gia’s cheek when she thought her lover was dead.
I pushed the memory away. I had to concentrate on the here and now.
“What did Angie say?” River asked.
“You know how mysterious she can be. Still, she did say Shan needs stopping at any cost.”
“Any cost?”
“Yeah, and she was serious.”
“Wonder if she knew about the bodies when the Upsiders went to her?”
Upsiders? Oh, us.
“Dunno. But she did already know Shan needs dealing with and told us how.”
“She did? I must have missed that part,” I said.
“From your description, you met Shan and Arthemy in the chamber where the mage casts his spells. If—” Rain stopped talking and listened, then continued, “A door opens to the garden in the rear. Arthemy’s spell room backs on to an alley but no door leading out to it.” She eyed River.
“Ideal,” he said. “Shan won’t suspect a thing.”
Huh?
Rain’s forehead creased. “You’ll have to take our weapons in with you,” she told Royal, “and a distraction will help.”
“Royal takes him the kid,” River agreed.
Royal shoved himself to his feet and his hands balled. “Lawrence? I told you, I will not hand him to Shan.”
“We know someone who can help, if he agrees. He’s a sióga prince, his name is Baelfleur.”
“Sióga?”
“Fairy,” said River.
“You must be kidding,” I said but Maggie didn’t repeat it.
Royal took it in stride. “How can he help?”
“He can impersonate the boy.”
“Excuse me,” I interrupted, and this time Maggie decided to speak for me. “How can he impersonate a boy he’s never seen?”
“He can look like anyone, it’s what he does,” River said.
“We think he’s the reason Angelina sent you to us. A handful of people know what he can do and where he is. We’re counted among the privileged few,” Rain said.
Earlier, Rain said Angelina sending us to her and River stank of manipulation. They meant their knowing someone who could impersonate Lawrence. The siren knew Royal had to take Lawrence to Shan to fulfill the Cousin’s stipulations.
“When can we talk to him?” Chris asked.
River said, “He went Upside a couple months ago. Last we heard, he and Freyda are still in Monterey.”
“Who’s Freyda?”
“His companion. A human woman.”
“Are there more fairies Upside or just him?” Maggie asked for me.
“If others are there, they didn’t go willingly. Sióga lose their magic when they leave Downside.” Rain tapped her knee. “We can’t guarantee he’ll help you. You might be wasting your time. But believe me, if Bel agrees it’ll be worth it.”
Royal’s nostrils flared. “And if not?”
“We think again, although getting near Shan will be difficult without Bel’s help.”
“One more thing,” I said. “Why must Royal take your weapons in Arthemy’s house? What did you mean Shan and Arthemy won’t suspect a thing?”
And she told us. Then, she showed us.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I felt like the perpetual bearer of bad news when the thought struck me. “We may have a problem. Will we forget everything when we leave like Felipe and his father did?”
“Why would you?” Rain asked.
She didn’t know. “The Gelpha who’ve come here don’t recall anything after they leave. Why should we be different?”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“Intere
sting.” River dropped his head and looked at Rain through his straggling hair. “You didn’t know?”
“The only people I’ve met who’ve been Upside live here. They didn’t forget while they were up there. We didn’t.”
“Could it be because Downside protects its own, yet we don’t belong here?” Chris suggested. “Another safeguard, like the geas which prevents passersby from investigating the alley.”
“What?” from Rain.
Chris told her about our experience entering Downside. “Royal and I felt it but it barely bothered us. Walking in was much harder for Maggie.”
“I have my notes.” Maggie waved her notebook. “My recorder wouldn’t work but I wrote down a lot.”
Rain smiled. “The recorder won’t work here because the technology is alien to Downside. And sorry to tell you this, your writing will turn to gibberish when you leave.”
Maggie went boneless and let her notebook fall. “Chicken scratch?”
Chicken scratch, yeah.” Rain unsuccessfully tried to squelch a grin. “I’ve seen it.”
“I have an idea,” I said as it came to me. “From what Felipe said, memory loss wasn’t instant. He knew it was fading but still retained enough to make that one little recording when he returned to Manhattan. So it gradually went between leaving The Station and setting foot in Manhattan. What if we talk about Downside as we walk the bridge? We may forget what happened here, but maybe we’ll remember what we said to one another on the bridge.”
“It’s worth trying,” Royal agreed.
Chris said, “All this is for nothing if we lose our memories.”
Rain stood. “I’m sorry. We’ll wait for you anyway. I hope you make it back with Bel.”
“How do we recognize him?”
“Bel and Freyda are tall. He’s slim, with white hair and pale-blue eyes. She is a robust woman, a redhead.”
Not much of a description and I said so through Maggie.
“Don’t worry. You can’t mistake them, especially if you see them together.”
“Cut gemstones and silver ingots,” I said through Maggie as we neared The Station. “Makes sense. They can’t spend dollars.”
Royal didn’t blink at the fee Rain and River named. It was high and he paid whether or not the plan succeeded. He did remind them they’d be paid nothing if we didn’t recollect what we had to do next.
Walking from Rain’s apartment to The Station took an hour and although Royal and Chris still strode briskly, Maggie wilted as she slogged along splashing through puddles. Neither Rain nor River owned a car and cab drivers drove away when Chris waved American money at them.
Maggie kept her eye on me as I paced with them. I didn’t feel the heat, humidity and rain. Walking didn’t tire me. Although Downside scared the crap out of me, I enjoyed the freedom of movement it gave me. When we left here I’d again be wrapped around one of them like a chiffon scarf.
So River and Rain were wraiths. Huh. Folklore describes wraiths as apparitions, insubstantial; in fact, ghosts. Or the likeness of a person seen before they die. Or, in popular novels, a person returned to life using dark necromancy.
Rain and River were nothing like the fables. What they could do was huge, mind-boggling. Downside challenged everything I thought I knew.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Chris told Royal. He walked with his hands in his pants pockets. “If you told me yesterday we’d trust a siren and two wraiths, and look for a fairy to ask for his help, I’d have had you institutionalized.”
“I would have committed myself,” Royal replied. “Tiff’s life is on the line and I feel we are grasping at air.”
But we had to believe. Seeing what walked the streets of Gettaholt, were wraiths and what they did any more astonishing? Why should fairies not exist?
“I thought they insulted the guy when they called him a fairy. But she means a fairy.” Maggie said.
I echoed my thoughts of a moment ago. “After what I’ve seen, I can believe anything.”
“Sióga. Have you heard it before?”
“Nope. I’ll look for it on Wikipedia when I have hands.”
Royal cast a look at Maggie. She deliberately flared her eyes. “Don’t tell me again to keep my mouth shut unless I’m repeating what Tiff says. If we want a conversation, we damn well will.”
I was about to defend Royal yet again. Bound with anxiety, he was going through so much, enough to defeat a person with less determination. But as much as I adored him and understood his torment, I could make excuses for him only so many times.
After seeing Shan and Arthemy, the streets didn’t feel as threatening. We hurried to The Station and the guys paid no attention to the peculiar people we passed, though Maggie and I gawked. A slim male in a houndstooth suit and vest, brown shoes with white spats; his hairy tufted ears swiveled and a long nose twitched as his eyes darted nervously. A short, squat, big busted woman half as wide as she was tall, her mouth looked as if it belonged to a frog below a tiny nose and eyes like round black pebbles, and weedy clumps of hair sprouted from on top of her otherwise bald head. A tall, nude, genderless creature with long limbs seemingly made of rough brown bark and knobby, twiggy protrusions on its head. To my eyes, familiar human forms mingling in the crowd served to emphasize the others’ bizzarity.
The Station Master stood outside the doors. “Are you finished with your business here?” he asked without preamble.
“No,” Royal said as shortly. “We will return.”
The man led us inside The Station, went in his little cubicle, and the metal door opened, followed by the wooden door. Suddenly, we were faced with the darkness swamping the bridge, with the doors shutting behind us and the small lamp providing inadequate illumination.
I grasped Maggie’s aura before I got left behind.
We started talking, all at once. Royal held up one hand and Chris and Maggie fell silent. He spoke of Shan, Angelina, River and Rain. Chris began to speak when Maggie gave out a little shriek.
“I’m an idiot!” she said as she fumbled in her backpack and found her mini recorder. She pressed the button. “Testing. Please work you stupid little machine.”
When she played the recording, her voice came back loud and clear. She grinned. “It’s working.”
They continued talking as they walked on, Royal and Chris alternating with Maggie putting in a word when they paused for breath.
She suddenly stopped midsentence. “Whose hand am I holding?”
“Mine, my sweet,” said Chris.
The spell of repulsion apparently affected only those trying to enter Downside, because Maggie didn’t hesitate as we strode through the darkness. I didn’t know she still held the tiny machine aloft until we reached the alley’s murky light. Again, I felt as if we walked a long way before we came free of the alley. Chris already held his cell phone and dialed as we emerged.
Reentering Manhattan strangely disoriented me, as if I stepped from a dream into reality. I suppose, in a way, I did. We had returned to the mundane world, where legs didn’t end in hooves and moth wings didn’t sprout from shoulder blades.
Royal stopped dead. “The Gates are open.”
“So Shan did it,” Chris said.
“Someone should be there to tell them they will close in two days.”
Chris lifted his hands and spread them apart. “And explain all this? I think Gelpha will have to cope without our help, my friend. We have enough on our plate.”
“It was strange back there, wasn’t it,” Maggie stated.
“It was,” Chris agreed.
“You can remember it? Because I can’t, not much. The more I try, the less I recall.”
Chris arched one eyebrow. “How odd.” Then he frowned. “Was it. . . ? I can’t. . . .”
Royal tapped one toe impatiently as he looked along the street. “We are forgetting, as Felipe did. I see Shan and hear what he demanded of me, but . . . .”
I recalled every second we spent Downside. “The Station
? The stores and apartments going up to the sky? The people, if they can be called people?”
“Guess they can’t wipe a ghost’s mind clean,” said Maggie.
“Tiff’s memory is intact?” from Royal.
“Angelina,” Maggie said. “What she said but not her face and . . . everything is fading. I try to zero in on a memory and it’s gone. It was busy, wasn’t it, people everywhere. I can’t picture them.”
Royal said, “The only face I see and words I hear are Shan’s. As for Downside itself, nothing.”
Maggie’s gaze flicked wildly between Royal and Chris. “Something about the sky. It was different.”
I butted in. “It’s red. Does anyone recall what you said after we left The Station?”
“Not what I said, but what Royal said to me, yes,” from Chris.
“And if you need confirmation, it’s on Maggie recorder.”
Royal’s response was unexpected. He strode several angry paces away from us, spun and returned. “This plan is absurd.”
“I agree,” Chris said. “A fairy in California? Pshaw!”
Despite all they’d done to make a record of their time Downside, without the memories to back it up they doubted their own words. I was unsure, myself. Could the sióg help us? Would the wraiths’ plan succeed?
But I remembered Rain and River and didn’t think they deliberately sent us on a wild goose chase.
“You’re not suggesting we give up, are you?” I asked desperately.
“Never,” Royal said fiercely as his fingers curled to make fists. “But this notion is—”
“Enough of this flip-flopping! One minute you urge us on, the next you say it can’t be true. I saw what you’ve forgotten. Everything you fed into that recorder, it happened. Do you believe in me, Royal, me as I am now, that I’m no different where it matters, inside of me? How many times have you trusted my gut instinct? Because right now it’s telling me this fairy is our only chance.”
Royal stood very still after he heard my words from Maggie’s lips. Then he replied softly, “I believe in you, Tiff. We will go to Monterey.”
