Because the house was in the Borderlands between Kinrowan and Dunlogan, the gnashers had done the Lady’s work for her that time. But it took Joey and me to clean things up, Chance thought with satisfaction as he checked their captive in the rearview mirror. Nice little piece of ass, this one. Maybe the Lady’d give her to Joey if there was anything left of her after tonight.
They pulled into the Dragon’s farm outside of Saint-François-de-Masham, having the place to themselves for a change.
“It’s a little stopover,” Chance explained to Button as they dragged her out of the car. “But don’t worry—things’re going to pick up real soon.”
Button shivered at the grin that appeared on Joey’s lips.
5
Emma exchanged her armchair for a straightback, which she brought over to the desk. Leaning closer to the computer, she asked Blue, “How did you get it to do that?”
“I don’t do anything,” Blue said. “Jamie’s got his own mind.”
“You mean like... Artificial Intelligence?”
“You could call it that, I guess.”
Emma looked at the computer. “But that’s just an old IBM model—I mean, it’s so small.”
“It’s connected to something a whole lot bigger,” Blue said. Yeah. Like would you believe the whole frigging house?
Emma shook her head. “I’ve read about stuff like this—you know, like in that William Gibson novel—but this...”
“This is for real,” Blue said.
AS ARE YOUR DREAMS, Jamie added.
Emma numbly stared at the screen.
“What’re you talking about, Jamie?” Blue asked.
THERE’S NO OTHER EXPLANATION. WHAT EMMA THINKS TO BE A DREAM HAS TO BE REAL. SOME CREATURE OF FAERIE HAS MANAGED TO SPLIT THE TWO HEMISPHERES OF HER MIND. BUTTON HAS THE RIGHT HEMISPHERE—THE SIDE THAT’S RESPONSIBLE FOR VISIO-SPATIAL ABILITIES, THE EMOTIONAL OR ARTISTIC SIDE OF THE BRAIN. EMMA HAS THE LOGICAL HEMISPHERE. EACH OF THEM HAS SUBSTANCE, HENCE THEIR LACK OF SHADOW. THERE WAS ONLY SO MUCH MATERIAL TO WORK WITH.
“That... that’s impossible,” Emma said in a small voice. She looked to Blue for confirmation, but he was shaking his head.
“We’ve... ah... seen this kind of thing before,” he said, remembering how the druid Thomas Hengwr had become two separate entities.
“But it’s not so cut-and-dried,” Emma said. “You can’t get by on just one side of your brain—can you?”
I USED THAT DESCRIPTION MERELY TO SIMPLIFY THE EXPLANATION, Jamie replied, BUT THE THEORY DOES FIT YOUR PRESENT DIFFICULTIES.
Emma looked away. “Oh, Jesus,” she mumbled.
“Look,” Blue said. “We’re going to help you.”
“Help me? I have to be insane to be listening to this.”
Blue nodded. “So where’s your shadow?”
“I... it...”
“Right. And just who the hell was your twin that got snatched out of here just before you arrived?”
“I...”
“She woke up this morning with the name Esmeralda in her head,” Blue said. “I guess that’s just a coincidence, too?”
The computer beeped loudly and the words LIGHTEN UP appeared on the screen.
Blue glared at the screen for a moment; then he nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said to Emma. “I...” He didn’t know how to explain what he felt about Button. Christ, he’d only just met her. But what she had was something that called out to him—something Button’s twin sitting here beside him didn’t have. Right side, left side. Who cared about brains. It was something in Button’s heart that touched him.
I REMEMBER ESMERALDA FOYLAN. Jamie’s words slipped across the screen. SHE STAYED HERE A LONG TIME AGO—THAT WAS BEFORE YOUR TIME, BLUE. I REMEMBER SHE LEFT US SOMETHING.... The computer made a soft humming noise, occasionally broken by a sound that was almost like an old man’s cough, as it searched its memory files. YES, I THOUGHT IT HAD BEEN ENTERED. SHE LEFT US A BOOK ENTITLED THE TALE OF THE SEASONS, A COLLECTION OF ANIMISTIC VERSE—QUITE GOOD, TOO.
“We used to write to each other,” Emma explained. “And we took on other personalities in our letters.” She fetched her purse and pulled out a sheaf of letters, poems and drawings. “I was Autumn and she was a Westlin Wind.”
I SENSED THAT IN YOU, Jamie said. AND IN BUTTON, TOO. AND OF COURSE ESMERALDA—SHE WAS LIKE A WIND. NOT FLIGHTY SO MUCH AS... EVERYWHERE AT ONCE.
Emma looked surprised. “What?”
THE SPIRITS THAT MAKE UP THE WORLD SOMETIMES CHOOSE HUMAN HOSTS, Jamie explained.
Emma looked to Blue for help, but he just reached for the clutter on her lap. “Can I see these?” he asked.
“The top one came in the mail just a week or so ago,” Emma said as she passed them over. “I hadn’t heard from her in, oh, a long long time.”
Blue read the card that Button had dreamed of, then held it up to the window. “Can you see this, Jamie?” he asked.
Emma gave him a strange look, but then Jamie’s words began to cross the screen again: IT SEEMS TO BE A WARNING. SHE KNEW THAT DANGER WAS APPROACHING YOU, EMMA, AND TRIED TO WARN YOU.
Emma looked at the card again. “I remember feeling weird when I first read it, but we—well, I just took it as a sort of poetic way of saying, why don’t we get in touch.”
NO, Jamie replied. FROM THIS IT WOULD SEEM THAT YOUR ENEMY—THE WOMAN IN YOUR DREAM, I SUPPOSE—HAS ONLY RECENTLY ARRIVED ON OUR SHORES. FROM YOUR DREAM IT’S OBVIOUS THAT YOU HAVE SOMETHING SHE WANTS. I WONDER WHAT THIS TALISMAN IS.
“Let’s get Button back first,” Blue said. Emma started at the name and Blue gave her an apologetic glance. “I guess it sounds strange to you, but that’s just what I called her. We’ve got to call her something, right?”
Emma nodded slowly. Then she pulled a sheaf of paper from the pile in Blue’s hand. “Look at this one,” she said. “The last stanza. I’ve read these all through again since that dream and this one seems to... I don’t know... talk about some kind of power. Maybe I’m just making something out of nothing, but...”
Blue wasn’t much for poetry, but he dutifully gave it a look, holding it up to the window so that Jamie could read it, too.
That gift was yours, my heart
to call to sleep the trees
and dream their dreams
the berry red and the laden bough
their poetry, your poetry
their music, your music
their strengths, your strength
through Winter’s long
and bitter night
oh, guard that gift, my heart
and guard it well
THAT’S IT, Jamie said.
“What is?” Blue asked.
THE TALISMAN—IT’S A PART OF HER. IT IS HER—OR AT LEAST THE HER SHE WAS. WHO KNOWS WHICH ONE OF THEM HAS IT NOW.
The phone rang suddenly, making both Blue and Emma start.
“Got a pen and paper?” Tucker asked without any preliminaries when Blue answered.
“Yeah. Shoot.”
“Okay. I doubt the car’s stolen. It’s a ’78 Mustang registered to an Edward Chance.”
Blue hesitated in his writing, then added the address that Tucker gave him under the name. “Eddie Chance?” he asked. “You’re sure?”
“I thought you’d recognize the name,” Tucker said. “One of your old pals from your biking days. Well, he’s still riding with the Dragon, at least he is according to a source I’ve got with the Ottawa cops. I had him run Chance’s name through Ceepik. No outstanding warrants but he’s got a record as long as his arm, Blue. He’s one of the new biker breed, now. You know—sports jackets and suits, pushing dope and women, running scams. Nice guy.”
“This is one I owe you,” Blue said.
“I see in his file where you’ve had a run-in with him before, haven’t you? Put him in the hospital just before you dropped your colors?”
“Yeah, we’ve had our differences.”
“The guy’s scum,” Tucker said, “but I meant what I sai
d before. You fuck him over and I’ll have to come for you.”
“It’s not that kind of problem,” Blue said.
“I’m offering to help, Blue.”
“And I appreciate it. But it’s just something I’ve got to handle myself. Thanks, John.”
There was a moment’s pause and Blue knew that he wasn’t kidding the inspector. The only reason Blue didn’t want Tucker’s help was because he didn’t want his hands tied by legalities, and they both knew it. But they did owe each other. Blue just hoped Tucker would remember that.
“Okay,” Tucker said finally. “Just remember—don’t get caught. I don’t want to hear about it after.”
The line went dead before Blue could add anything. Cradling the phone, he looked at Emma. “Well, now we know who snatched Button. His name’s Chance. He’s a biker that rides with the Dragon and if he’s involved, then his partner Joey Martin is, too. Maybe the whole local chapter.”
“Bikers?” Emma said. “What would they want with me?”
THEY MUST BE WORKING FOR THE WOMAN IN YOUR DREAM, Jamie said. IF SHE IS FAERIE, SHE’LL NEED HUMAN AGENTS.
“And what better than the Dragon?” Blue said. He handed Emma back her package of letters. “I’ve got to go check this out.”
“I’m com—”
Blue cut her off. “Trust me in this. You don’t want to get involved in what’s going down. The best thing you can do right now is wait here for me. Nothing—and I mean nothing’s going to hurt you while you stay inside the House. It’s got ways of keeping undesirables out.” And keeping other folk in, he added to himself. He hoped Jamie knew enough to keep Emma here until he got back because he didn’t want to have to go out tracking down Emma just when he got back with Button.
“But...”
“Will you just do this one thing for me—trust us that far? You can talk to Jamie or explore all you want, just stay inside the House.”
“All right.”
“Thanks. Believe me, soon as something comes up where you can help, I’ll be the first to ask you to step in, but with what’s going down right now, I’ll be able to do a better job by myself where I don’t have to worry about anyone else.”
The words BE CAREFUL appeared on Jamie’s screen.
“Count on it,” Blue said. “You just take care of things here, Jamie.” As he got up to go, Emma caught his arm.
“If... if something happens to... Button,” she said, “what’ll it do to me?”
Blue glanced at Jamie’s screen, but the message BE CAREFUL hadn’t changed. “Let’s hope to Christ we never find out,” he said. Then he stepped out of the room and was gone.
6
The address that Tucker gave Blue was in Mechanicsville. Been a long time, Chance, Blue thought as he pulled his bike up in front of the house. He left his helmet hanging by its strap from the Harley’s handlebars. The Mustang wasn’t in sight, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He meant to go in hard and fast—Chance would just have to take the hand he’d dealt himself and that’d be all she wrote.
When he reached the front door, he kicked the heel of a boot against the paneling by the lock. The door sprang open with a crack like a gunshot and then Blue was inside, roaming through the house. Come on, he thought. Be here, for Christ’s sake. But the house was empty, upstairs and down, with no clue that Button had ever been brought here.
Outside again, Blue looked up and down the street, but no one paid him any attention. Chance’s neighbors had probably seen the Dragon’s bikes pull up too often to get involved with any weird shit going down here.
Okay, he thought, putting his helmet on again. Where now?
He kicked the Harley into life and headed downtown to make the rounds of the bars and bike shops. He didn’t get lucky until late in the afternoon when he got to Judy Kitt’s place in Sandy Hill. It was a biker’s garage, run out of the garage in back of her house. Judy looked up from the old Norton she was working on at the sound of his motor.
“Hey, Blue,” she said, wiping her hands on her greasy jeans. “How’s it hanging?”
She was a skinny little thing with a frizz of blond hair held back with a hairband. Blue liked the way she handled herself. Even the biggest badasses backed down when she got on their case.
“I’m doing okay,” he said. “Nice bike—yours?”
“Nah. I’m fixing it up for Hacker. I like the way these English bikes ride, but I hate the way you have to baby them.” She checked out his Harley with an experienced eye. “Don’t tell me you’re bringing that in to me.”
Blue laughed. “No. I’m trying to run down a guy—name of Chance. Runs with the Dragon.”
Judy nodded. “Yeah. I’ve seen him around. Slick-looking guy. He’s always got that big ape with him.”
“Joey.”
“Gives me the creeps, that guy.”
“Know where I can find them?”
Judy gave him a hard look. “Thought you were finished messing around with the Dragon, Blue.”
“Who’s saying I’m messing around? I just want to find a guy.”
“Sure. But your eyes say it’s ass-kicking time when you do.”
“So what’s it to you?”
Judy held up her hands between them. “Hey, back down, big boy. This is me. Judy. Your friend, remember?”
“They snatched a girl—right in front of the House, Judy. I’ve got to get her back. I’ve been running around the better part of the afternoon trying to get a line on him and come up with zip-all.”
“You tried the Dragons themselves?”
Blue shook his head. “I’m not exactly on their list of favorite people.”
Judy started to walk back into her garage. Opening a small icebox, she tossed Blue a beer, then took one out herself. Popping the can open, she took a long swig.
“I needed that,” she said. She closed her toolbox and sat down on its lid. “Let me think a minute.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Blue sat down on an upended crate across from her and worked on his own beer while he waited. After a few minutes Judy sat up again. Her gaze settled on him.
“They’ve got a place in Quebec,” she said finally. “Up around Saint-François-de-Masham. Be a good place to take someone you’d snatched.”
Saint-François-de-Masham, Blue thought. Up on Highway 366. To reach it, you had to go up old Highway 105 past Old Chelsea. That had to be the place.
“Could you tell me how to get out to the farm?” he asked. “I’ve heard of the place, now that you’ve mentioned it, but I’ve never been out there.”
“I’ll draw you a map,” Judy said. She took the stub of a pencil out of her back pocket and, ripping the label off an oil container, started to draw on the back of it.
“Judy,” Blue said when she was done. “You’re a dream.” He folded the map and put it in his pocket, then gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, before he went for his bike.
“Hey!” Judy cried. When Blue turned, she was rubbing her forehead with a greasy hand. “Watch that smooching stuff, buster.”
Blue grinned as he got back on the Harley. “Put it on my tab,” he called back.
“You don’t have a tab,” Judy told him, but he’d already kicked his bike into life so he couldn’t hear her. “Don’t let the bastards catch you on their home turf,” she added as he drove away. She watched him go down the street with a frown. Then, sighing, she finished her beer and went back to work on the Norton.
7
Emma couldn’t stay in the Postman’s Room with the computer. The way it talked like a real person just gave her the creeps. She wandered down the long halls of Tamson House, feeling like she’d gotten lost in a fun house. The halls and rooms just went on and on, as if there were no end to them. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore. Making her way downstairs, she ran to the first door she saw. She tried to fling it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Fiddling with the lock didn’t help either.
Trapped.
The weig
ht of the House around her, the sheer strangeness of it all made her panic—but it was a strange sort of panic. Her head was filled with a welter of confusion, but at the same time a part of her mind had her logically walking down the hall, trying door after door. By the tenth one, she looked around for something to throw through a window. A large vase was close at hand. She picked it up, approached the casement with the vase upraised, and then things just got weirder.
The air moved around her, swirling like a wind, pushing her back from the window. She tried to throw the vase as she was forced back, but the thrust of the air pushed it aside with a strong gust. It shattered on the floor of the hallway, shards spraying around her. She flung up her hands to protect herself, then stopped when she held them up against the light. She turned to look behind her. No shadow.
“Oh, Jesus....”
The lights in the hallway began to flicker and she heard a distant beeping sound. Backing away from the mess she’d made, she returned slowly to the Postman’s Room, following the computer’s high-pitched signal. When she reached the room, she stayed by the door, staring at the machine.
“Please,” she said. “Just let me go.”
Words appeared on the screen. She was determined not to go closer to read them, but after long moments she knew she might as well. She sure wasn’t going anywhere. Crossing the room, she sat down by the keyboard. WE ONLY WANT TO HELP YOU, the message said.
“I don’t want any part of this,” she told it.
THIS IS NOT SOMETHING WE BEGAN, Jamie replied.
She picked up the sheaf of Esmeralda’s letters and flipped through them. “I’ve got to be crazy,” she said. She looked at the screen, the way she would have looked at another person if there’d been one in the room. “How can something I dreamed be real?”
FAERIE HAVE GLAMOURS TO CLOUD PEOPLE’S MINDS, Jamie told her. I BELIEVE THAT WHAT YOU THINK WAS A DREAM ACTUALLY HAPPENED. IT’S ONLY BY THE MACHINATIONS OF YOUR FOE THAT YOU REMEMBER IT AS A DREAM.
“Right,” Emma said. “If I can talk to some Wizard of Oz sentient computer, dreams might as well be real, too.” She looked around the room. “Come on. Own up. There’s something running that computer, but I just can’t see you—right?”
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