by Luna Lindsey
She walked down the short hallway and found the area where Jina would make her second exit. The band completed the final song, and soon Jina left the stage with a backdrop of uproar. She was still lifting the guitar strap over her head when Jett touched her sleeve.
“Jett! I’m so glad you could make it.” Jina wrapped her free arm around Jett’s shoulder.
“Your music tonight, it took me to places I’ve only dreamed of.”
Jina’s hand lingered on Jett’s arm, sending shivers up her skin. “Your eyes take me to places I’ve only dreamed of.” She smiled, suddenly shy, and took a step back. “I’m sorry, that was forward. How did you get back here?”
Jina’s existing attraction would make this easy. Jett never felt comfortable seducing those dreamers who were not already drawn to her. Such games were best left to the unseelie, like Pogswoth.
“A wink and a smile work like a charm.” Jett winked and smiled.
“Why don’t you come on back to the dressing room and have a few beers with us?” She motioned to her drummer and bassist.
Jina led her through the narrow hall to the dressing room. All the walls were painted the same shade of black, just as they were out in the main area.
“It’s small, but it’s more than we get at most venues,” Jina said. “Come on in. The bouncers are going to let a few fans in here pretty soon.” Unshyly, Jina removed her sweaty stage-wear and slipped into some jeans and a baby-doll tee. Jett let her eyes linger over her body and her pulse quickened.
Jina noticed and smiled warmly. She opened a cold bottle of Pyramid and handed it to Jett. “I hope you like hef.”
Jett took a swig and let it calm her beating heart.
Jina pointed to the two men in the room. “Meet Wendell, my drummer, and bass player, Dennis. Guys, I was telling you about Jett, from artwalk a couple days ago.”
Dennis had long curly hair and a tiny soul patch beard just under his chin. He wore eyeliner and a tweed jacket over an old t-shirt. Wendell wore thick-framed glasses and his spiky bleached hair drooped from sweat. He dried his face with a rag.
“Heya newgirl,” Dennis said. “Better watch out for Jina’s charms.”
Jina frowned at him, but Jett just chuckled. “Maybe she should beware of mine.”
“I dunno you too well,” he said, “but if Jina had a charming contest with just about anyone, she’d win.”
“Is that your way of saying you wish she’d turn her charms on you?” Jett asked.
Dennis blushed, shrugged, and zipped up his guitar in a cloth bag. They seemed like good people, talented. Not dreamers, not quite, but a nice compliment to Jina’s genius.
Jina sat on a ratty couch and patted the seat next to her. “You better come sit by me before they let the fans in.”
Jett sat down and was surprised to feel Jina take her hand. Dennis was right; Jina seemed to be rushing things along. If only more humans were this forward.
“I saw what you did out there,” Jina said, leaning close. “That creep disappeared right after you talked to him. Did you run him of the bar?”
“In a way, yes.”
“He followed me here. Was he harassing you?”
So he really had found Jina first. It seemed Pogswoth had invested a lot into his quarry. He’d just have to deal with the fact that another hunter had won the prize. “He was drunk. He said something unseemly about you, so I put him in his place.”
“I don’t know what you could have said to him to chase him out, but thanks.”
“I threatened to call the police and he took it very seriously,” she lied.
“Hmm,” Jina mused. “Maybe he has an arrest warrant or restraining order. Either way, thanks for saving me. At least for tonight. He’ll be back though.”
“No he won’t.”
Jina shook her head and laughed darkly. “I doubt anything you said would keep that guy away for long.”
“If he so much as looks at you again, my sweet, I swear, he will wish the police had him.”
“What could you do to him?” Jina asked.
“I’m stronger than I look.”
“I’m glad you’re so willing to protect me, but you can’t be around all the time.”
“I would like to be,” Jett said. And someday, she would be.
Jina closed her eyes halfway and snuggled in against Jett’s side. Her body felt warm, alive on Jett’s skin.
The door swung inward. Four or five people squeezed into the room. One girl walked up and gave Wendell a kiss. “Been behaving yourself, sweetie?”
“Of course, hon.”
The other fans leaned against various objects in the room. A young man in a flannel and a dirty Mariner’s cap sat down next to Jina, squeezing her more tightly against Jett.
“Hey baby, what’s your name?” He put his arm around Jina. He smelled like beer. A lot.
Before Jina could protest, Jett flung his arm away and replaced it with her own. “She’s with me, bud. Here’s a beer, consolation prize.” She passed him her own half-finished drink.
“Ugh, a microbrew. Got any Millers?”
“What, are you from Kent?” Jina said, shoving him away again. “You hang with the band, you drink what we drink.”
“Oh right, you’re in the band. I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.” He chuckled to himself and chugged back his Pyramid.
Jett flicked him in the ear. “Get off the couch,” she said sternly, infusing it with a meager trickle of glamour.
He pretended it hadn’t hurt, gave her a frown, but nevertheless, stood and attempted to converse with Dennis about pickup trucks.
Jina took the opportunity to put her hand on Jett’s leg and whispered, “Thanks for saving me. My hero, twice in one night.”
Jett smiled and pulled Jina’s hair back enough to whisper, “The tides will bring me inevitably to your side, time and time again.”
Jina sighed and put her hand Jett’s cheek, leaning in for a kiss.
Before she made contact, Miller Lite called out, “Hoo hoo! Two chicks at the same time.”
Jina whispered, “You wanna get out of here?”
Wasn’t that her line? At the moment, Jett wanted nothing but to be alone with this girl.
“Anywhere you lead.”
Jina took her by the hand and led her through the door. When they passed the bouncer, Jina motioned behind. “Hey, Jack. I know it’s an anatomical impossibility, but there’s a dick in there who’s being an asshole. Talking to Dennis. Bounce him, willya?”
“Sure thing, Jina.”
Jina led her conspiratorially down the hall and then up onto the empty stage. They cuddled behind the amps.
“We have the place to ourselves,” Jina promised. “No one will think to look for us up here.”
They kissed, and Jett felt young again, like a princess sneaking off through the halls of a Tir Nan Og palace to be with a lowborn scullery spright.
CHAPTER 22
*
FINALLY, IT WORKED. The redcap glared and helplessly pounded on the walls of the jar. It had taken all day, but now the imperceptible glow now gave off an imperceptible hum, and glamour slowly seeped out into the room. Sandy examined the contraption and jotted down notes about Jina’s spell.
“What was it you said earlier about unconscious effects?” Sandy asked.
“Glamour is fickle and follows the focus of my unconscious as much as my intent. Whatever I dream about at night is likely to leak out into my spells. Something in my heart wanted to let the dream out, not lock it inside, and that fought against our attempts at sealing the faerie’s magic. It took me a while to figure that out.”
“What is it you dream about?” Sandy asked.
“A girl.”
She heard a zip, and looked up to see Jina pick up her guitar case and head up the stairs.
“Hey, where are you going?” she demanded.
“I have a date,” Jina said.
“But we don’t have a scry spell yet. Didn’t you
just go out last night?”
“My concert was two nights ago, and last night, I was looking for Scarf, since no one else will do it. I’m exhausted,” Jina said. “You have a Heimlich valve of magicalness. Glamour comes out, faerie and his magic stays in. I’m going to relax.” She sounded defensive for some reason.
“Yes, but now I have to find that creature, Ezra.” Desperation clawed at her. She would not feel safe until he was here, locked up in a cage, under her power.
“Find Scarf instead. Please,” Jina pleaded. “I want to stop worrying about him. He followed me to Neumo’s on Saturday and–”
“He what? Why don’t you tell me these things?”
“I tried to, twice. You were too busy.” Jina headed up the stairs. Sandy snatched up her glass and followed.
“I’m really excited about my date tonight, and you didn’t know about that either. Because we can’t talk to each other without it being official Ordo business. Or a fight.”
Ouch. If only Jina would stop trying to leave in the middle of projects, then Sandy could stop arguing with her.
“You’ve changed,” Sandy said. Her tone revealed far more weariness than she’d intended.
Jina paused in front of her bedroom door. “So have you… but not in a good way.” She glanced at the empty glass in Sandy’s hand. Sandy resisted the urge to throw it at her.
“It’s never like this when you’re sober, and it isn’t even helping you get the things you want. You need clarity, perspective. We need you to have clarity and perspective.”
Sandy didn’t have time for clarity.
Jina continued into her room. Sandy trailed behind.
“They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results,” Jina said.
“Yes, but what if I’ve tried different things and still get the same results?” Sandy asked, revealing a tiny glimmer of vulnerability backed by hope… hope that maybe Jina really did have the answer.
“Then you’re just not trying the right things. There are people who have been down this path before. I won’t help you work and drink yourself to death, but I’d be happy to spend time doing things that will actually help you.”
“Then help me with that scry spell.”
Jina raised an eyebrow, and turned away, obviously still getting ready to go out. “Trying the same thing? Expecting different results?” she said.
Sandy had to make Jina listen to reason. She had to make her stay. “Here’s your different results!” The glass flew from her hand and hit the wall.
Jina flinched. Now she was paying attention.
“This room is mine!” Sandy shouted. “All this is mine! I’ve worked for it, all of it! And you, you do nothing except diddle around on your stupid guitar all day, go out to your stupid parties all night, whoring it up and snorting coke and who knows what else. You haven’t done a single thing for me since we left Michigan!”
“Sandy! Chill the fuck out!” Jina’s voice cracked a little, which only enraged Sandy more. She had nothing left to throw. “What the hell is wrong with you? For chrissakes, chill!”
This was Jina’s fault. She’d caused all this anger, this loss of control. And now she had the nerve to…
Sandy took a couple of deep breaths. “Fine. Fine!”
“You think violence will make me do what you want? You think that? Well it won’t!” Jina’s voice had risen in volume, and Sandy feared she might throw something herself. She didn’t. She just reached for a phantom cigarette case, and ran her hand through her hair when she didn’t find any. “Jesus. Just… just…”
Sandy stared at the glass shards on the floor. There was a dent in the plaster. Her own hands were shaking. With rage? With fear?
Jina was right. The alcohol wasn’t working anymore.
“I’m sorry,” Sandy whispered.
“You know what’s sad?” Jina said. “The real reason I didn’t sign with that record label? I wanted nothing more. A chance for everyone to hear my music. Constant spotlight, videos on MTV, national radio airplay, interviews, tours… god, tours. Did you know most bands go on tour, Sandy? Even indie bands, like Fates. No, I threw it all away because of you. Because you needed me.”
Sandy nodded slowly. Through the blur of numb tears, she understood.
If she lost her temper again, Jina would be within her rights to leave. She couldn’t lose Jina, not now.
“I’ll quit. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll stop drinking.”
Sandy expected Jina to smile, give her a hug, give her some reward for giving in. Instead she grimly nodded her head. “That’s something at least. But you’ve quit cold turkey before. Remember? Until you can heal the hurts that drive you to self-medicate, you’ll fall off the wagon again.”
“No,” Sandy said. “I’m strong. And smart. I can do this on my own this time. I’ll prove it to you.”
“Of course you’re strong,” Jina said. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. But you’re not super-human. Do you still have that number I gave you?”
It would take a super-human to call that hotline.
“I’ll consider it.”
“Thank you.” Jina stepped close and gave her a hug. “I know you’re doing your best. We got a lot done today. You should seriously take a break tonight and celebrate our success. If you’re going to drink, at least do it a bar, in public, with other people. Okay?”
“I said I’m quitting,” Sandy said.
“Good,” Jina said. “Anyway, I gotta go.”
Sandy saw Gretel on her way down to the main floor.
“Everything all right?” Gretel asked. Sandy noticed the bags under her eyes, and wondered if she was working the others too hard, too.
“Never better,” Sandy said. “I just need some time to think.”
She wandered to her office alone. She poured herself a drink from the bottle of Lonach she kept in her desk.
Obsessed. Jina had used that word before. Sandy didn’t have any other choice… How could she get through the day without the alcohol, without the work itself?
A card sat on her nightstand upstairs. The image of it flashed into her mind. She stared at it every night before falling into nightmares. The number, etched in bold lettering against the bright-orange surface, was etched into her memory.
She needed to be super-human to catch faeries, too. Maybe after she found the courage to call a hotline, hunting down Scarf would be easy.
Sandy picked up her cellphone. 800…656…H-O-P-E.
Her thumb hovered over the dial button. She imagined what she might say.
Hello, my name is Sandy. I won’t be able to sleep tonight because there was this faerie…
No.
Because all I can see is his sweaty blue skin…
No.
Because demons are real.
No.
Because I let myself be rap…
God no.
Sandy shook her head. She could admit to none of those things, not even to a faceless stranger at the other end of a phone line.
No one could help her, but she would at least stop drinking, like she promised. She owed it to Jina.
There was a glass half-full in her hand. She wondered how it got there and dumped it into the soil of a potted tree. The bottle of Lonach nearly received the same fate. She paused with the cork half-removed. This was the good shit. Thirty-nine years old. Two-hundred a bottle, purchased out of state. It would be good to keep around, just in case, in case later she wanted to celebrate just a little bit…
As for Ezra… She could not stop pursuing him. He was vulnerable, weak. And they knew where to find him.
Scarf was older, wiser, and undoubtedly more powerful. Sandy wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Not yet. No, not yet. Not until she knew just a little more… She imagined what might happen if she tried to capture him and failed, and the effort brought back memories.
Jina said she could handle Scarf, at least for a while. First Ezra, and then Scarf right aft
er.
Sandy realized she had not thought beyond the chase. What did the tigress do once the rabbit was in her jaws? She’d imagined experiments. Yet if the boy had done nothing wrong…
Was there a way to neutralize his power, to prevent him from hurting anyone?
An idea struck her. She rushed to her library and grabbed several books. As she read, she felt the alcohol wear off, felt her mind clear, and a plan began to form. Maybe Jina was right… Maybe she would get more done sober.
She marked several passages for later reading. It just might work, but she would need his true name. It warranted more research. She knew one thing – it wouldn’t work if she didn’t have an Ezra to try it on. First things first.
Jina wasn’t around to write a new spell. She had an old one, from years ago, when she’d hoped to scry on Haun. She didn’t have her own source of glamour back then. Instead, her spell had tapped into Haun’s glamour where he’d stored a message for her.
This time, with her own pure glamour, it should work fine.
She descended into the Dungeon and walked to an off-white vanity beneath the basement window. Its surface was piled with unused scientific instruments, a hoax faerie corpse, and a remote-viewing box permanently set to a fixed location exactly one hundred years past. She cleared these away from in front of the medium-sized antique mirror mounted on the vanity, its silver frame decorated with intertwined vines.
She dug through an old filing cabinet until she found a ratty notebook. It had pages and notes sticking out all over the place. She wiped off the cover and flipped through them until she reached the verse written in Jina’s hand.
The spell would need a minor modification. She didn’t know Ezra’s true name, but she clearly remembered what he looked like. Hopefully that would be enough.
Across the room, she adjusted a knob on the glamour generator, with the redcap sleeping peacefully inside. The room filled with glamour then, she supposed. The proof would come soon enough.
She sat down in front of the mirror and chanted:
Mirror shiny, mirror bright,
Reflect to me just one tonight,
Mirror shiny, mirror true,
Scry to me a face of blue,
Mirror shiny, mirror tame,
