Marley remembered Kari touching her arm, patches of static swirling around her fingers, saying happily, I fixed it! “I have no idea what happened. Maybe it wasn’t actually a bullet. I really don’t know, Branwyn! Don’t look at me like that.”
Branwyn pushed her arm into the water, pulling it down until it was submerged to the shoulder. “You know something. You’re too honest.”
“I don’t know anything, when it comes to that.”
“And too philosophical, too. That guy outside? You’re not afraid of him and he says he’s trying to help you? Maybe it’s actually true. Not everybody has a hidden motive.”
“The other people following me around do. Lawyer Jeremy does. They haven’t presented me with an affidavit of their intentions. They just shot at me, Branwyn. And I don’t know why. I’m sorry.”
Branwyn gently rubbed at the crud around the main scab. “Well, something certainly happened to you. That’s going to be some scar.”
Marley craned her neck to see the injury. Washed clean of all the extra dried blood, her arm still had a dime-sized dent in it, covered with a moist, half-healed scab. She raised her eyes to meet Branwyn’s gaze. The blaze of emotion had faded, at least a little. Softly, Branwyn said, “I keep wondering if I missed seeing this injury over the last week or two. But I’m sure I didn’t. I wish you trusted yourself enough to tell me what you’re not saying.”
Awkwardly, Marley shrugged. “I’ve told you what I’m pretty sure of, and what I’ve speculated. That’s what’s important.”
Branwyn’s face closed up, and she released Marley’s arm. “Yeah. But it’s not everything. I’m used to deciding 'important' for myself. And since you're asking me to stay away from my home because of this...” She shrugged, and put a new bandage on Marley's arm. “You haven't been this reserved since we were kids and you were upset about your brother.”
“I haven't felt this crazy since then, either,” Marley muttered. It just slipped out. She looked up at Branwyn, but Branwyn was walking away, over to the kids. With a cheery voice, she invited them to play with her art supplies, her back to Marley.
* * *
Branwyn hauled out a dusty old sleeping bag from the depths of her car, and claimed the floor, leaving Marley and the twins to dogpile on the couch again.
As Marley snuggled the twins down into the couch, Kari said, “We know about fairies! Uncle Zach told us.”
“Did he?” asked Marley, wondering if she’d be able to sleep tonight.
“Uncle Zach said that all fairies are lawyers. Can’t trust ’em!”
“But they like gifts. And they keep their promises, basically,” added Lissa.
“And they live backwards. I guess that’s why you wear your shirt inside out?” Kari said.
“No, Uncle Zach said that was just a useless superpower,” corrected Lissa.
Kari hugged her doll. “And they wear leashes. Because otherwise they’re naughty.”
“They loovvvvve games. And they’re basically imps.”
“You’re imps,” laughed Marley. “Close your eyes now.”
They both closed their eyes, but Kari’s popped back open. “Marley? Why did those people want to hurt us? Why did they hurt you?”
Marley’s smile faded. “I don’t know. I think it’s because...” and she paused, her mind racing as she searched for something appropriate to say.
“Sometimes people get confused and scared by things they don’t understand. And they want to make the confusion and scariness go away, by making the thing they don’t understand go away. I think maybe those people didn’t understand why we were running toward them and they wanted us to go away.” She was aware of Lissa listening so hard her ears seemed to have grown, even though her eyes were still closed. “But they chose the wrong way to do it.”
“So it was an accident?” asked Kari.
“Kind of, yeah.”
“Okay,” said Kari, and turned over. But Marley thought Lissa stayed awake for much longer.
The temperature that night was almost reasonable, although there was a red tint to the light pollution that made the night that much less comfortable to sleep in. “Just pretend it’s the world’s biggest campfire,” suggested Branwyn, before she put her headphones on.
Marley expected that she’d have trouble sleeping, but the gentle breathing of the twins, and Neath’s contented purring near her head, knocked her out before she had time to worry about it.
And once again, she was in the dream room.
Tinker Chime the fairy fashion doll was waiting for her. “Just passing through again?” he said acidly. His arms were crossed and his tiny foot tapped on the air. “Don’t mind me, I have all aeon. It’s not as if captivity can crush my people’s spirit any more.”
Happiness tickled Marley like champagne bubbles in her soul, but she resisted it. “You again? Where’s my cat?” She felt around under the bed and encountered a paw. Even in her dream, Neath was tuckered out.
“Why are you so unfriendly?” complained the fairy. “Most people would be delighted with an encounter like this.”
“I don’t believe in fairies,” said Marley, flatly.
“Oh! Ow!” Chime pressed his hand to his chest and drifted to the ground. “A mortal wound!” He landed on the carpet, one arm flung dramatically over his head. One eye opened, then the other. “Just kidding.”
There was an angry yowl under the bed, and Neath slunk out. Chime leapt into the air again. “You woke the beast!”
Marley swatted at him. “Good! Maybe she can make you go away!”
“That would be the wrong choice,” said the fairy, and his voice was so serious that Marley remembered her own words to the twins, back in the waking world.
“I don’t care,” she said defiantly. “I don’t need this bullshit invading my dreams as well as my real life. I should be able to get a good night’s sleep. I deserve a good night’s sleep.”
“You are asleep,” pointed out Chime. “That’s the magic of dreams. And this isn’t bullshit. It’s very important! The fate of my people rests on your action and goodwill!”
“It’s totally bullshit! The world is supposed to make sense. People aren’t supposed to disappear into thin air. Wounds aren’t supposed to be healed by the touch of a little girl. And crazy people aren’t supposed to shoot at small children!”
“Why not?” The fairy flew closer to her face.
Marley glared. “Because.” She picked up Neath and cuddled the cat close. “The world’s complicated enough. Don’t you roll your eyes at me!”
The fairy drifted backwards, out of reach. His worried eyes scanned her face. “If your world is so complicated, what’s the addition of a couple more complications going to cost you? Do typhoons and microwaves bother you? They're very complicated.”
Marley started to respond and then tripped over her tongue as she actually thought about the question. Then, begrudgingly, she said, “But I don’t know if the new things are... a microwave or a typhoon or a hallucination.” Even as she said it, she realized that was an issue, but not the biggest issue making her so angry with the world.
The fairy shrugged. “Mortals can’t make typhoons.”
“Well, humans did these things.”
“Did they? You sure? Well, humans are talented folks.” The fairy smirked.
Marley’s irritation at the fairy returned. “I saw them. Children.” As she said it, a great shudder passed through her body. “These are tiny kids, and they can do such unbelievable things.” She again saw the terrible expression on Lissa’s little face, as she told the women with the guns to go away.
The devouring static stretching from Lissa to the women, at the same time as a similar static enfolded Kari’s hands on Marley’s arm.
And then the wings had come, and the ringing, otherworldly voice had spoken—but that, and all it implied, didn’t bother Marley nearly as much as the children. Forces she couldn’t guess at wanted them, and she knew it wasn’t to coerce Zachariah. Th
ey were amazing all on their own.
“They’re so small,” she said. “And so young. How can they possibly be aware of what they’re doing? And I’ve made them my responsibility.” The thought made her angry, not at the twins, but at a world which had taken advantage of her weak spot to saddle her with more than she had any idea how to handle. “That doesn’t mean just keeping them safe. That means... teaching them. That means if they hurt anybody, it’s because I let them do it. How can I teach them if I don’t even understand what they’re doing?”
“Find out more?” Chime turned so he was floating on his back. He sounded bored.
“How?” Marley demanded.
“How should I know? However your kind passes on lore. Or do you think these babes are something new? Uncharted territory?” A miniscule eyebrow arched. “I mean, personally, I don’t think you should worry about it. There’s much more important things going on. My people, for example.”
“Real children trump dream people, Tinkerbell.”
The fairy made a sour face. “Her friend was much more amenable to adventure than you are.”
Marley ignored him. Wings at your window. “Some of them seem more friendly than others. I could at least find out why they’re so interested in the kids.”
Neath squirmed out of her arms and began stalking in a circle under where the fairy floated. He cast a displeased look down at her. “You can keep hunting me, beast, but it isn’t going to keep me away. In fact, if she fails my people, I’ll be here forever.”
Marley mused, “I wonder if Zachariah knew.”
The dream began to disintegrate around her as Neath leapt straight up. The last thing she heard was a peevish fairy voice saying, “But more likely, she’ll end up dead, and those precious children with her.”
-thirteen-
Marley woke up to morning sun, and the rattling of the studio shower. She blinked for a moment, trying to remember where she was and what she was doing. She turned her head and the sight of Branwyn’s big custom box fan helped her place herself. Still, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see the fairy fashion doll sitting atop the box. She wondered if Tinker Chime was a representation of her subconscious, triggered by late-night fairy conversations, and if so, what it meant that he was a tiny, but attractive, male. But she did feel better about the twins and their strange abilities now. Dreams weren't always bad.
Lissa was wedged between her and the back of the couch, while Kari was on the floor, her knees tucked up under her body and her rump in the air. After carefully disentangling herself from the girl, Marley stepped toward the window. And paused. A black bird—a crow or a raven?—was perched on the windowsill, looking into the studio with one shiny black eye. It turned its head to one side, and then scratched at the screen. She could barely hear the scrape over the rattling of the shower and the roar of the fans.
It had something clutched in one foot, something white. A scrap of paper? She hurried over to the window and leaned against it, turning her head. Corbin was gone. Unexpected disappointment rose up, which she ignored as she turned her attention to the bird. It hadn’t flown away at her approach, although it had hopped along the ledge when she leaned on the screen. “What do you want?”
It opened its mouth silently, then lifted its foot, thrusting the scrap of paper against the screen.
“Oh! Sorry.” Marley felt embarrassed talking to the bird, but even more embarrassed that she hadn’t realized its point before. But Corbin always seemed to be with birds, and even in the normal world, birds carried messages. She worked on figuring out how to open the screen. As she did, the shower turned off and she could hear Branwyn moving around behind her.
Finally she got one of the latches bent enough that a corner of the screen popped open. Immediately, the bird’s foot thrust through the gap and released the scrap of paper. Marley snatched it up as the raven launched itself into the air, with a caw that sounded like laughter.
You’re right. You deserve to know everything I do. Call me. Corbin
There was a phone number printed next to the name. It looked familiar.
While she was trying to remember where she’d seen it, Branwyn said, “I’m going on into work today. Since there’s nothing better to do. If you don’t call me every few hours, I’m going to call the cops.” Marley turned to look at her. “Or worse.” Her friend’s green hair, spiky when wet, seemed to match her tone. She really didn't like being excluded from what she assumed was an adventure.
“I’m going to find out more today, Branwyn.”
Branwyn shrugged. “Good.” She turned away and then turned back. “I hope you don’t think you’re protecting me or something stupid like that.”
“No.” Marley said it, but her treacherous thoughts said, Maybe a little. “I just don’t want to spread my own confusion.”
Branwyn grumbled, “Yeah. Research Girl. At least it’s not Penny’s excuse.” She left, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Marley stared at the door for a moment. Then she found her cellphone in her purse, right next to Zachariah’s phone. “Oh!” she exclaimed, and then glanced guiltily at the twins. She took both phones and went to the far side of the studio. Then she turned on Zachariah’s phone and scrolled through the call list. There it was, Corbin and his number, called the day Zachariah had vanished.
Before she thought about it too much, she pressed the call button. The phone rang twice, and then a bewildered voice said, “Zachariah? What the hell—”
“It’s me,” Marley said. “I have his phone.”
There was a pause. “Oh. The girl with the kids. Marley.”
“Yes,” she said patiently. “A bird gave me a note signed by you.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just woke up.” Marley felt a twinge of irrational annoyance. How could he be watching out for bad guys if he was asleep? And why had she been relying on him to do that? He continued, “Is everything all right?”
“Nothing has changed. I’m calling because you said you wanted to explain things. And I’m ready to have things explained.”
“Right. Can we meet somewhere?”
Marley glanced at the kids, who were stirring. “I’m still not comfortable letting anybody I don’t trust too close to the kids. Not after yesterday.”
Another pause. “This will be harder, then.”
“Why? Talking is talking, and phones are safer.”
“Because seeing is believing, and I’m just a voice in your ear.” He sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Who is Lawyer Jeremy working for? Who’s behind the people shooting at me? What happened to Zachariah? What’s your connection to Zachariah? I saw that he tried to call you the day he vanished.”
“Yes. I was busy at the time.” Corbin’s words were clipped. “Trying to save my friends from the clusterfuck he sent them into.”
Marley frowned. “What?”
“I’m sorry. Yes, he called me, presumably to find out how we were doing on a task he'd set myself and my friends. The answer there was ‘poorly'.”
“What was the task?”
He hesitated. “We were trying to protect something from somebody who wanted to steal it. We failed. I think the same somebody is now trying to get the kids.”
“You're being very vague,” Marley observed. “Do you think I won't understand big words?”
“So prickly. Look, how much do you know about the Backworld, and the Geometry? Have you even heard of nephilim or the war in Heaven?”
She almost hung up the phone right then. Her thumb even twitched. “I took geometry in high school. Nephilim are mythological giants that were washed away in the biblical flood.”
“So you don’t know anything. About your—about magic, and the secret side of the world, I mean,” he added hastily, and then paused. “Are you still there?”
“Yes. Sooner or later you’re going to say something meaningful. I’m waiting for it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to meet somewhere?”
/> “Are you kidding me? Convince me you’re not a paranoid schizophrenic first.”
“I don’t think that’s possible over the phone. Not quickly, anyhow. And you don't sound inclined to give me a lot of time.”
Marley blew out her breath. “What is it with you and birds, at least? Why are they always around you?”
“They’re my friends,” he said mildly. “They’ve always been the friends of my family. Look, I’m going to tell you more about what we were doing for Zachariah. And I’m going to put it in a way that will make sense to you. And then I’m going to change the perspective a little. All right?”
Marley silently rolled her eyes. “Go on, already.”
“Zachariah was a friend. He asked me to go with some other friends on a mission: to interfere with an organization attempting to steal an important object. He said this organization was planning on using the object to unlock a barrier preventing the organization from accessing great power. My friends and I—we failed. We didn’t anticipate the force they sent in. And my friends were badly injured. After getting them someplace safe, I came back to discover Zachariah was missing, and the organization's primary agent had sent his servants after you and the kids as the next step of the plan. Zachariah didn’t warn us about that. I don’t know what they want with the kids, yet.” By the end of the story, Corbin’s words had become clipped and angry again.
“Maybe Zachariah holds the last part of this key you mentioned? A final password or something? And they want the kids in order to extort it out of him?”
“Unlikely. I don’t think Zachariah had any significant role in the creation of the barrier. No, I think they want the kids, and Zachariah was in the way, which is why they’re after you now.”
Marley let this sink in, and said, “And the perspective changer?”
“The agent is an angel,” Corbin said bluntly. “The barrier prevents his kind from directly manipulating humanity.”
Marley remembered again the wings in the light, and the ethereal voice. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that. An angel. An angel? From Heaven? God’s messenger?”
Matchbox Girls Page 9
