by Paul Ruditis
“That’s the difference between TV and newspapers these days,” Phoebe said.
“Really,” Reed said teasingly. “I hadn’t noticed there was much of a distinction between the two. Not since they started printing the newspapers in color, complete with pretty graphs and recipes for the perfect meal for a family of four.”
“I assure you, the Bay Mirror still stands for quality reporting,” Phoebe said, feeling the need to defend her coworkers. She would have felt a bit more confident if she didn’t write a column that was titled “Ask Phoebe.”
“That is pleasant news, indeed,” he replied. Even though his words were condescending, his tone was light. Phoebe thought the man might be flirting with her.
“Do you think the circus would stand up to an in-depth report on how it treated its animals?” Phoebe asked, putting him on the defensive and betting that animal rights was indeed the cause of the press conference.
“If it couldn’t, I wouldn’t be working here,” Reed said simply.
“So how ‘bout it?” Phoebe asked.
“How ‘bout what?”
“An in-depth interview?”
“How in-depth?” Reed asked, allowing Phoebe to be certain that he was flirting with her.
“As deep as I need to go,” Phoebe said before she realized that the conversation was crossing some kind of professional boundary.
Apparently Reed had the same realization, because his body stiffened as he considered the request. “I think I’ve already stated the circus’s position quite clearly.”
“For a fifteen-second sound bite on the evening news,” Phoebe said, slipping back into the role of the dogged reporter. “It might not even make it on the eleven o’clock report if there’s some kind of food-eating contest or a sappy human interest story. I’m offering a real chance to get into the issue, to talk about what’s really going on with the animals.”
“I just told the press,” Reed said. “We’ve had a couple of sick animals. There’s no story. I wouldn’t have called the press conference at all if the protesters hadn’t forced my hand.”
“There could be a story,” Phoebe said, making a false threat. “The protesters could make it into one. The question is, would you rather me interview you or interview them?”
“I would hope a good journalist would be interested in both sides of the story,” Reed said.
“That’s why I’m talking to you first,” Phoebe said. “But I guarantee that those protestors will have more to say than you say in your simple press release. And they’ll say it with the kind of passion that—between you and me—my editor just loves to milk.”
Reed seemed to reconsider her offer. “Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll give you a short one-on-one. But I hope you’re prepared to hear me out.”
“Naturally,” Phoebe said.
“Can you meet me in the press trailer in fifteen minutes?” Reed asked. “I have some things to take care of before I can speak with you.”
“Certainly,” Phoebe said.
Reed gave her directions to the press trailer and handed her a pass that would let her into the restricted area, which was located on the other side of the fairgrounds, tucked among the other offices and the employees’ living quarters.
“See you in fifteen minutes,” she said as he turned to walk away.
“Looking forward to it,” he replied.
Phoebe went to rejoin her sister. She had no idea what she was going to ask Reed, or why it was so important for her to interview him in the first place. But Phoebe had learned to trust her instincts long before she had learned she had any magical powers. For some reason, she felt that this guy was going to be able to give her some answers. She just hoped she could come up with the right questions. And that last part was entirely up to her to figure out.
“What’s up?” Paige asked as Phoebe approached. “I couldn’t get through the push of reporters. Why is it called a ‘push,’ anyway?”
“You should have felt what it was like in the middle of them,” Phoebe said, by way of explanation. She then filled her sister in on what little she had learned.
“Do you need any help with your interview?” Paige asked.
“No,” Phoebe replied. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t go with me into the restricted area and do some investigating on your own….”
Chapter 9
“That’s okay, honey,” Piper said in her best soothing maternal voice. “Mommy’s almost done looking up information on the weird, scary man from this morning.”
Wyatt stopped fussing and gurgled something in response as if he grasped what she was saying. Piper momentarily wondered if he had understood her. That little boy was full of surprises. Unfortunately some of them were of the more nerve-wracking variety.
Piper put her laptop aside for a moment. She needed to take a break from the poorly designed Web sites that were based on little more than guesswork and supposition. She was even more frustrated than she had been when she’d started the research, if that was possible.
After an hour of searching online for information on Puck, she was only able to come up with details that—at best—were more confusing than what the Book of Shadows had given her. Ignoring the sites dedicated to the wide range of literary characters that derived from Puck—ranging from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, to various comic books, and even a Disney animated series—she tried to focus on actual mythology. Still, nothing paid off.
On the other hand, she had learned a few things of interest. First and foremost was the fact that Puck’s proposition to exchange clothing for cleaning services was one of the most ancient facets of his mythology. That aspect of Puck’s character was even the inspiration for a certain little character in a widely known book/movie series about a different breed of witches and wizards.
At least now she didn’t feel like such a fool for falling for his trickery. Although the knowledge that she wasn’t the first in history to be Pouk-ledden didn’t make her feel any better about trusting that there was an Innocent in need of help from the Charmed Ones.
“Here we go, Wyatt,” Piper said as she lifted her son from his playpen and bounced him in her arms. His giggles indicated that this was one of his favorite activities.
Piper had taken her son into the conservatory so she could be near him while she did her research. Between her job at P3 and the constant demon interference, she felt like she was always missing out on the important moments in Wyatt’s life. She had already missed the first time he rolled over on his own, and she dreaded the day someone else told her that he was walking.
“So, what do you think about this Puck fellow?” she asked Wyatt. “You’re not sensing anything, are you?”
Again, he gurgled in response.
“He seems harmless enough, I guess,” Piper said as she looked around the conservatory. “And he did clean up his mess. That’s better than some people in this house can do. And yes, I’m talking about your aunt Phoebe.”
Wyatt let loose with a burst of laughter, causing Piper to stop for a moment and wonder, for the millionth time, if he really did understand her. But when he burped at the end of the laugh, she realized that he was just experiencing some well-timed gas.
“Now if we could only figure out what he’s up to,” Piper said. Talking out loud like this sometimes helped her work through her problems. She had been doing it for years, but she felt better now that she had a baby to talk to—she didn’t feel as silly talking to herself as she had when no one was around.
After spending an hour doing research, Puck was still a mystery to her. A few sites had provided some information beyond his penchant for cleaning and clothing, and it seemed that most people seemed to agree that Puck was a hobgoblin who did not appreciate it when people mistook him for a fairy. To Piper, that seemed like a rather uninformed mistake to make. Fairies and Puck had very few similarities as far as she could tell. Certainly the size difference alone should have been enough to set people straight.
Then again,
she thought, how many average humans actually run into either fairies or Puck?
Her Web search had also informed her that Puck liked it when people believed he was real. That actually explained more about his ego than anything else. The problem was, she doubted he’d take any pleasure in the fact that the Charmed Ones believed in him since they weren’t particularly skeptics when it came to the existence of mythical beings.
Still, none of her conclusions would help them deal with Puck at the moment or give them any indication of whether he was really on their side.
“Find anything interesting?” a voice asked from behind her. “Oh, that doesn’t look like me at all.”
Piper spun around to find Puck leaning over her shoulder, looking at the computer screen. She had left open a site that had a painting of Puck, which looked a lot like most of the images she had seen of Pan from Greek mythology. From the look on his face, he didn’t seem to like the artist’s interpretation.
“I’m not that fat,” he said of the picture. “Do I look that fat to you? I mean, really.” He turned away from her and looked back over his shoulder. “My butt’s not that big, is it? You can tell me the truth. I’m not sensitive about my weight.”
Piper considered saying a few things about him that had nothing to do with his appearance, but she figured insults would be pointless. He probably wouldn’t even hear them. “What do you want?” she asked, holding Wyatt tightly.
“I thought I made that clear earlier,” Puck said. “I want you to go to the circus. You shouldn’t be wasting time researching me,” he said as he sat down in an empty chair and crossed his legs. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Piper said.
“Well, I didn’t say I’d tell you the truth,” Puck said. “But right now you have more important things to attend to. I could transport you to the circus, if you want. All it would take is a snap of my fingers.”
“Phoebe and Paige are there right now,” Piper said. “If they need me, they’ll call.”
“Of course they need you,” Puck said. “Aren’t you their leader? The calm, rational—and fairly sarcastic—one?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I have a baby here,” Piper said.
“And what a cute baby he is,” Puck said. “Your point?”
“My point is that I can’t just leave him alone,” Piper said. She couldn’t believe she had to explain that to someone. “And I’m not taking him to the circus with me, so don’t even bother suggesting it.”
“That’s what’s wrong with society today,” Puck said. “Overprotective mothers. How are children ever going to learn to fend for themselves? Isn’t he old enough to be left home alone for a few hours?”
“He’s not even one,” Piper said.
“Exactly!” Puck said. “Why, when I was one, I was out in the field, picking coffee beans right next to my mother, who had given birth to me in that very same field. Haven’t you ever heard that story?”
“Do you take credit for every joke or story that’s ever been told?” Piper asked.
“Only the fun ones,” Puck said. “I let Oberon take credit for the clunkers…and reality television—I had nothing to do with reality television. Those stories are just too ludicrous to be believed.”
“You know, you’re a real laugh a minute.”
“Hi honey, I’m home!” Leo called from the living room. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the conservatory!” Piper yelled back. She hadn’t expected to see Leo for several hours, but she certainly didn’t mind the surprise. “There’s someone here I’d love for you to meet.”
“Maybe some other time,” Puck said as he disappeared.
“Hey,” Leo said as he entered the room and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Did you say something about a guest?”
“He just left,” Piper said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “You’re back early.”
“We’re on a break, so I orbed home,” Leo said as he took Wyatt from his mother’s arms. “I couldn’t stand being away from my two favorite people for so long.”
Leo began making funny faces at Wyatt. As usual, the baby loved the performance and he laughed wildly in response.
“And you were probably getting bored Up There in the bright white land where the Elders live,” Piper added. “Right?”
“Not at all,” Leo said. “Our retreat is in Vegas.”
“Wait a minute, you’re spending the day in Vegas while I’m stuck in the house dealing with rogue cleaning crews led by crazy ancient beings?” Piper asked indignantly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Actually, I was,” Leo said, still entertaining his son with funny faces. “We’re up in Elder-land, like always. But what do you mean, ‘crazy ancient beings’ and ‘rogue cleaning crews’? The place looks spotless.”
“Yeah, it’s a funny story,” Piper said, looking around the conservatory. She had to admit the house was even cleaner than it was after the first time Puck’s crew came through. “Have you ever had a run-in with a fellow named Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, or whatever name he might have gone by at the time?”
Leo’s facial expression was no longer funny. In fact, it was a mask of seriousness as he put Wyatt down in his playpen. “Puck has been here? Is everyone okay?”
Piper’s level of concern grew tenfold, seeing her husband’s reaction. He wasn’t usually one to overreact. Well, maybe on occasion, she thought.
“We’re fine, more or less,” Piper said. “We only suffered some minor property damage. But Paige had to cancel her weekend getaway, and she and Phoebe are checking into something right now.”
Piper proceeded to fill Leo in on the events of the morning, starting with Puck’s pranks and ending with the mission he had charged the Charmed Ones with.
“What does he really want?” Leo asked. His face was still ashen.
“That’s what we want to know,” Piper said. “I’ve spent the better part of the morning trying to figure it out.” She debated mentioning that it was Puck who had stopped by a minute earlier, but figured it would only worry Leo even more.
Her husband stood in silence for a moment, turning the situation over in his mind. At one point he started to speak, but ultimately changed his mind and didn’t say anything.
“Come on, Leo,” Piper said. “You’re scaring me. What do you know that we don’t?”
“Nothing more than rumor and speculation,” Leo said. “I’ve never met him, personally, but I know people who have. His reputation has changed a lot since Shakespeare wrote A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“Yeah,” Piper said. “Apparently he had something to do with that.”
“It’s not all for the better,” Leo said.
Piper sank into one of the wicker chairs, bracing herself. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to tell me?”
“Historically, he’s been nothing but a troublemaker,” Leo explained as he sat beside her, “but he’s grown more powerful over the years as his story has grown. It’s almost as if he’s been drawing more power from the story as it’s told and retold. He has even been gaining new powers as different people embellish on the story. Once something becomes part of the mythos, it becomes real to Puck.”
“So he’s a powerful prankster,” Piper said. “I still don’t see why he’s a threat. If the worst he’s going to do is try to mess up the house…well…we’ve been there before. Just yesterday, in fact. Any idea what he wants with us?”
“There’s no telling, really,” Leo said. “Puck is neither good nor evil—or you could say he’s both good and evil, depending on how you look at it. But he is dangerous and unpredictable. The Elders have been trying to contain him for centuries with no success. Actually, I’ve always found him a little impressive, in that regard.”
“Yeah, we know how hard it is to get around the Elders,” Piper said.
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Leo said. “I’ve heard some pretty w
ild stories.”
“I’m sure you have,” Piper said, though she really didn’t want to hear them. She didn’t need anything else to worry about at the moment. It was bad enough that Paige and Phoebe were across town and hadn’t checked in yet. She didn’t need anything more to fuel her imagination.
“Now that he’s made contact with the Charmed Ones—” Leo took a deep breath. “I can’t imagine what he’s planning. I suspect that you’re going to need the Power of Three to deal with it.”
“Great,” Piper said as she reached for the phone. “Phoebe and Paige are already on alert, but they don’t have any idea what they could be up against.”
Since Paige’s cell phone was at the bottom of a river, Piper dialed Phoebe’s line. After three rings she received what, at first, seemed to be a prerecorded message.
“We’re sorry,” the droning nasal voice of an operator said. “But the subscriber you are calling is currently in mortal peril—or just suffering a bad-hair day. Either way, she can’t come to the phone right now. Feel free to wait for the beep to leave a message. You should hear it in about an hour. Until then, please enjoy this fine selection of Muzak, beginning with that old classic—” Piper severed the connection before the tune could start. She really didn’t care to hear Puck’s musical selection.
This is not good, she thought.
“I need to get to the circus,” Piper said.
“Go,” Leo said. “I’ll keep an eye on Wyatt.”
“The Elders aren’t going to like you bailing on their retreat,” Piper said. She didn’t really care what the Elders thought, but figured she should at least mention it so Leo knew she appreciated the trouble he was about to get into. The Elders weren’t a very understanding bunch.
“They’d be more concerned if something happened to the Charmed Ones,” Leo said. “You should get going. Do you want me to orb you there?”
“No,” Piper said as she grabbed her car keys from the mobile that hung above the playpen. She and Wyatt had been playing with them earlier. “Until we know what Puck is up to, I want to make sure one of us is keeping an eye on Wyatt at all times.”