Odilia stroked Susan’s hair in a parody of motherly love. Mitzi wasn’t buying it.
“This is because I’m a lesbian?”
“Partly. It’s also because of who your father was. Is. Also because we are at war and have been since before you were born.
Unfortunately, you appear to have been born on the wrong side of the struggle.”
The women who had brought her to this place began to remove Mitzi’s clothing. Mitzi hung on to her clothes and tried to push them away.
“I would think you’d like this part,” Odilia said cruelly.
“You old bitch!” Mitzi lunged at Odilia as the women clutched her and held her back. “Stop it! Leave me alone!”
Her mother sobbed.
“You have no right to hold me here. I’m forty-three-years old, not ten. I—”
With another flick of her hand, Odilia sealed Mitzi’s lips again. She said to the women, “Scrub her good. Scrub the devil out of her.” Her eyes narrowed. “Then deliver her to the retraining room.”
She put her arm around Susan and began to lead her out of the cleansing room. Susan’s face looked worried. “We talked about this. You weren’t going to—”
“Don’t make me seal your lips, too, Susan. You’ve done quite enough damage. We let you have the child because you so earnestly promised us we would never hear from her again.”
Mitzi maniacally tried to break her lips to scream at this woman.
Susan shrank under Odilia’s gaze. “Don’t hurt her,” she squeaked out.
“You know the penalty for disobedience.”
“Take me instead.”
“You know that won’t work.”
Mitzi could no longer hear. The dwarf women pushed her head underwater and scrubbed her with wooden brushes. She wondered if this was the “schpa” Odilia Dresser had anticipated for Mitzi when she first called, seeking a reunion.
April Eleventh
HIGH FIVE! POTTS took another congratulatory lap around the squad room then headed toward the interview room. He entered and Valerie Gooden was sitting at the metal table, hands on her lap, twisting her wedding ring. She looked small and uncomfortable.
Good. She’ll be singing like a birdy with a few more hours of this, he thought. “Let’s begin again,” Potts said. He turned a chair around backwards and straddled it. “When was the last time you saw Mitzi Fowler?”
“Saturday, at the museum opening.” Valerie squeezed the fabric on the hem of her blouse.
“The Fiona whatsername disaster?”
“I wouldn’t call it that, and her name is Fiona Castlebaum,” she said defiantly.
“You told me Panda Fowler and your...wife went to Germany a couple of days ago.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know your friend Panda called 9-1-1 to report Mitzi missing?”
She shifted uncomfortably in the cold metal chair.
“I’ll take that for a no. How well do you know Panda Fowler?”
“Very well. Mitzi and Panda are our best friends.”
“See each other socially?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Anything else?” he added suggestively.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, anything else. How close are you?” He gestured a “go on” motion.
Valerie looked disgusted, but before she could answer, the door burst open.
The woman standing there was a detective’s worst nightmare. Alexandra Stephanovsky was the kind of defense attorney who not only won more than he was comfortable with, she did it in style. Today she had on Dupioni black-silk pants, a red-tailored jacket with a brooch, and spectator shoes. Her eyeglasses matched her socks and buttons. She was a semi-celeb in Merryville’s small pond.
“Hello, Potts,” she said with a fierce grin.
He responded with something under his breath. “Alex.”
Alexandra turned to Valerie. “I’m your defense attorney. You’re not to say another word.”
“But—”
Alexandra put her finger to Valerie’s lips and shook her head. “That’s a word.” She then turned to Detective Potts. “Is my client being charged with anything?”
“Yes she is.” He looked surly. “Obstruction of justice.”
“Who’s on the case?”
Potts sighed. “Debra Ehrlich.” An assistant district attorney they both knew well.
Alexandra rapped on the two-way mirror. “Hullo, Debra, I know you’re in there. Chop chop. Let’s arraign her. She has places to be.”
Debra’s voice crackled from the ancient speakers. “Not so fast, Alexandra. We can’t get her before a judge until Friday the 13th.”
“You don’t plan on holding her in here, do you? A woman with zero criminal record?”
Debra entered the room, and she and Potts looked at each other.
Alex turned fierce, all kidding aside. “I demand a bail hearing this afternoon or tomorrow at the latest. She needs to be out to aid in her own defense. Obstruction is a cheesy offense, and you know it.”
THAT AFTERNOON, VALERIE was brought before Judge Dinwitter.
“All rise!” the bailiff shouted.
With only a glance up, the old judge said, “Ms. Stephanovsky, nice to see you. How does your client plead?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
Valerie stood beside her counsel as if in shock.
“People?” The judge turned to Debra Ehrlich.
“People ask the court to remand. She’s a flight risk.”
“This is ridiculous, Your Honor. Ms. Gooden is a home-healthcare nurse taking care of a very ill client.”
Ehrlich cut her off. “She fails to mention that Ms. Gooden’s wife and the missing woman’s wife have left the country.”
“Bail is set at $50,000.00, and she’s to turn in her passport.”
Valerie turned to Alexandra as if to speak. Alex put up her finger to shush her and turned to the judge. “Your Honor—”
“That’s my ruling.” The gavel came down.
Panda in the Hercynian Garden
ONCE ALONE, I tried and tried to get my phone to work. I wasn’t even sure who to call. It was just something to do. There was very little I could think of more frustrating than being held back from doing something. I opened the window, which was super small and pretty high off the ground, and stuck my hand out to try to get a signal. Nothing. The green substance of which the entire place was constructed seemed to absorb my signal.
I did something then that I could do. I prayed.
A short time later, the same dwarves who had escorted us to our rooms took Juniper and me to a communal dining room. Ehren was seated already, and several of his advisors were filing in. I noticed Elsa and Ekk sat together, and it finally dawned on me they were a couple. Even with everything going on, I thought how cute they were, and knew Babs would squeal if she saw them together like little salt and pepper shakers.
A bell rang. Fairies and elves floated in bringing food with the most delicious smells. We hadn’t eaten since early morning at the hotel. The dinner was amazing: lots of vegetables, nuts, soup, and homemade bread with a “roast beast” on a platter surrounded by potatoes. Most were drinking ale, but I chose water. I wanted to keep a clear head.
I started to ask a question, but the elf next to me said, “Not until he’s ready. That is our way. Eat.”
So we ate. Juniper struck up a conversation with a dwarf next to her, who seemed a little too interested in her cleavage. I spent my time studying the room, which was very old and modern at the same time. It had the feel of a thousand-year-old ranch house, but was made of some material other than adobe. Its greenish cast reminded me of Play-Doh. Again, I had the sense it had grown this way, like the Play-Doh walls outside.
A fire crackled in an oven built into the wall, and if you didn’t know it, you’d think this was a festive occasion. Meanwhile, I had to have some answers.
“Ehren, enough. What can we do to get Mitzi back?” Ther
e was low grumbling around the table, and the eagle-faced griffin wiped his face slowly in an exaggerated manner.
“We do nothing. My troops are on their way after dinner to bring her back.”
The last day or so I’d been astounded with the idea of this whole magic world, jet-lagged from crossing the pond, and somewhat numb, having failed to process all that was happening to me so rapidly. I was done with being stymied. I stood and faced the head of the table.
“Whatever plans you have to rescue Mitzi include me. Anything else is not an option. She’s my wife, Ehren.” I threw my napkin on the plate and turned to go.
The place seemed to collectively hold its breath. A soft growl and Ehren said, “Then go suit up now. The unit is preparing to leave.”
Juniper jumped up and said, “I go, too.”
“If you fail, you all die,” Ehren said. “If you don’t succeed in getting Mitzi, you all die. Remember that.”
Well, all righty then.
Elsa and Ekk scurried forward and led us to the armaments area. Elves quickly and quietly put leather armor on us and fitted us each out with daggers. We then joined Heloisa, who was giving final instructions to her troop.
“Quickly and quietly, we go to the lower quadrant of the forest and set up camp.” She stopped talking when she noticed us. “What are you two doing here?”
“We’re going with you.”
“You, Panda, I understand are a tax person in the other world?”
“Yes.”
“And you, Juniper, work for an art museum?”
“Yes.”
Heloisa looked at the ceiling as if appealing to some goddess. “Stick with the dwarves in the back and stay out of my way.” She turned and mounted her unicorn.
We were given normal horses, and it took a few minutes just to get used to riding and wearing all the leather gear. My dagger kept jabbing me in the thigh, but it felt good to finally be doing something. A smaller gate in the back of the compound opened with a great groaning of gears. A dirt path led to the horizon.
Heloisa was in the lead, with a coterie of strange elves. We, as promised, rode between two battle-tested-looking dwarves. Their armor had scrapes and nicks that they wore with pride. All moved, as promised, swiftly and silently.
The first part of the journey through the magical “moat” area was idyllic. The grass was green, birds chirped, the sun always shined, and the feeling of peace was almost intoxicating. Soon, we moved from the magical world into the Black Forest, and it became very dark and cold. Suddenly, I was happy for all the leather over my Tibetan parka. I then noticed Heloisa’s unicorn’s horn had disappeared, and her steed had become a beautiful, but normal, horse. The dwarves and elves kept their shape, which confused me. It was one more thing to ask about later.
After the warmth of the Hercynian Garden, this place sucked out anything of home and hearth. Branches tore at us, the horses stumbled over twisted roots, and soon we became aware of ravens in the trees, watching our every move.
Progress was slow in some places, and we plodded along, cold and silent, until midnight. It was dark, and the rhythmic clopping of hooves made me nod off. A hooting owl jerked me awake.
“We camp here,” Heloisa said softly, brooking no comment from the others. “Camp” was a moderately damp area in a clearing, where the horses champed and blew steam from their nostrils. Crude tents were quickly erected, and some of the elves disappeared into them. Soon, a fire blazed, and Juniper and I were practically in it trying to stay warm.
Heloisa pulled us aside. “Meet me one-hundred yards to the south of here in one hour,” she said. Her eyes swept my appearance. “Panda, lose the neon jacket.”
I nodded, too numb to speak, but the thought of losing my jacket was almost unbearable. However, if it meant getting Mitzi back in one piece then fine, I would swing a dead chicken over my head. It dawned on me that perhaps this was all a trick and Heloisa was trying to freeze us to death; nevertheless, we had no choice but to trust her.
Juniper and I paced out the hundred yards, and soon Heloisa joined us. She tossed me a black cloak that helped my frozen condition. “Are you going to tell me—”
The warrior woman put a finger to her lips and motioned for us to follow.
We walked, it seemed, for miles, and with all of us in black, we must have been pretty hard to see, which was probably the point. Eventually, we came upon a brightly colored gypsy wagon next to a smoldering fire. After looking around, Heloisa grabbed my arm and led me to the door. I gasped as it opened quickly, and she shoved me in. Juniper followed, but Heloisa stayed outside. At least it was warm in there.
A heavily bejeweled creature sat at a table with one candle lit. “Greetings,” she said in heavily Slavic tones. Both of us started a bit. She sounded like a female Dracula. “Don’t be afraid. Your guardian is just checking outside to make sure you were not followed.”
“No worries,” I murmured. “Thank you for letting us in.” One must remember their manners when in a gypsy wagon in the Black Forest. I almost giggled hysterically.
Juniper reached out to lightly touch the woman’s necklace, but the woman grabbed her wrist. My startled friend said, “Sorry, that’s just an amazing piece.”
The Rom smiled slyly as she released Juniper’s arm. “It’s very old.”
I was in that surreal numb-tired-wired place you can get and just waited, hypervigilant. A ticking clock sounded very loud from a dark corner. I didn’t think anything could surprise me anymore.
The door of the little wooden wagon opened, and Heloisa joined us. It was very crowded in there. The gypsy said to her nervously, “Good?” Heloisa nodded. Our strange host reached into a place below her chair. The table, upon which sat a crystal ball, tilted all the way back, revealing a tunnel with a ladder. It was dark in the hole below, and cold dank air blew out of it.
“You don’t expect us to go down there?” I said.
“You will go. Now.” Apparently, she did.
Heloisa confirmed it. “We need to get below quickly. Follow me.” She took a lantern from the woman, lit it with the candle, and rapidly descended the ladder. I looked at Juniper, who was grim. She shrugged as if to say, “In for a penny, in for a pound.” We followed.
The door snapped shut over our heads as Juniper’s fingers cleared the top rung. It was about twenty-five feet till we dropped down to a subterranean tunnel. “Can we talk now?” I asked, exasperated.
“Yes, for the moment. I think it’s safe here.” Heloisa looked fierce in the flickering light, but strangely emanated safety. “I am a guardian,” she said, as if she could read my thoughts. “You must trust what I’m about to say. Lives depend upon it.”
“Whatever I need to do,” I said. “I’m in, if it’s for Mitzi. Juniper needs to make her own choices.” I turned to my good friend. “It’s kind of late to go back now, but I can’t ask you to go any further. This is crazy.”
“Our fates are linked,” Juniper said. “I can see that. In times like these, there’s no going back.” She turned to Heloisa. “Tell us what we need to do.”
In the Castle
AFTER HER CLEANSING, a very red-skinned Mitzi was wrapped in a white toga and taken to a bedroom. She was tired and, if she could have spoken, would have admitted to being freaked, especially since seeing her mother in this place. The room was large, and at the center of it was a four-post bed. It made her skin crawl to think this may be the retraining room.
Most of all, she missed Panda and wondered if she was—even now—coming with the cavalry to save her. Her shoulders shuddered as she thought about how far California was and how hopeless the whole situation had become. Hot tears of frustration and rage streaked down her face. Inside she felt a tingling, a warmth that felt like a flower blossoming.
It was this moment when the door opened, and her mother came in. Mitzi’s spine stiffened. Talk about betrayal.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault,” Susan said.
“You bet it is.” M
itzi and her mother both started; she could speak.
“You can speak.” They stared at one another. Mitzi wondered what that meant. “Did Odilia come see you again?”
“No. I was just at the end of my rope.”
“Oh my God, you’re magical.”
“What? No. It probably just wore off.” Then Mitzi got mad again. “I thought we were good. We talk every week. I mean, you didn’t come to our wedding, but I thought you liked Panda. And all this? Really? My dad is a griffin? From a magical forest? Really, Mom, you couldn’t have just told me?”
“Mitzi. Would you even have believed me? The monks mean well. We’re trying to keep you from eternal suffering. This sin has its roots in the past. Way in the past.”
“I am not a sin, Mom. And this isn’t about just you anymore. You dragged me and Panda into your nightmare. Thanks a lot.”
“You’re right. It’s quite a mess.” Susan sank to a chair against the wall. “And the ritual...”
“Tell me about that. Now!” Mitzi demanded in a tone that would not be ignored.
Susan looked surprised. “God, you sounded like your father just now.”
“Spill it.” Mitzi was done messing around.
“Every four generations, the treaty between worlds is ratified. It keeps a relative peace because without it there are no rules. Already there has been death.”
Mitzi was exasperated. “Who, Mom? The treaty is between who and who?”
“Between the human world and the magical world. Magic is evil, Mitzi.”
“Wait a minute, Mom. When Odilia or that Wolfrum guy waves their hand, they shut people up. Isn’t that magic?”
“That’s a gift from the spirit.”
“Oh, please.” Mitzi shook her head, walked to the small window, and looked out at the horizon of tangled forest. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“You wanted to know about the ritual, so listen.”
Mitzi fixed her with an unhappy gaze.
“The ritual is from a very old story about two suns. There’s a real sun and a false sun, the one who is ‘dogging’ the real sun. This is why they sometimes call it the dog sun. Both are chased by two wolves, who are hunting the sun and the moon.”
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