by Karen Ranney
Since I wasn’t expected in the banquet hall until two, I occupied myself with reading the rest of the information the Archivist had given me. I liked the way he wrote. He was occasionally droll and I found myself smiling at his comments about some of the Brethren. My knowledge was expanding by leaps and bounds.
I learned that there were creatures considered sub-elves. They were of the same genus, but they were called Nips. They had no appreciable abilities other than being small enough to be almost invisible, especially to humans. They were also, according to the Archivist, responsible for circumstances most humans called Luck or Coincidence. They didn’t blame humans for accidental harm because they were so tiny. It was deliberate malice that infuriated them. In other words, if you see something out of the corner of your eye, don’t swat at it.
There was a certain type of cat, a Maine Coon cat, that introduced me to the idea that not all shape shifters turn into humans. In fact, most of them don’t. The Maine Coon became an animal the size of a coyote but with feline attributes. It hunted in packs, was responsible for the decimation of sheep and chickens and was often taken for a coyote. People who had Maine Coon cats in their household were often surprised by how large the cat got and how fluffy its appearance. The fluffiness appeared after they changed, and their weight always increased after they hunted. They could eat all they killed in one night. If they were confined inside an apartment, they often became increasingly vicious when the need to change came upon them. They were one of the species ruled by the moon.
The Archivist didn’t mention zombies, which made me feel marginally better. Maybe they were just a figment of Hollywood’s imagination. Nor did he write about ghosts, which I thought was odd. I knew they existed, and I thought they should be consider as Brethren. Were they under a different classification? If so, what else was with them?
I lost track of the other species I read about, none of whom had been on my radar before now. I was surrounded by Brethren. I’ll bet the apartment manager had been one. So, too, Charlie’s owner, my hair stylist, the woman at the convenience store, and the clerk at Wal-Mart.
The question was: who was human? I stopped myself from saying normal. I wasn’t sure being human was normal anymore. Was anyone human at Arthur’s Folly?
How about Dan’s assistant? Was she human?
I glanced at the clock, propelled by the thought of the woman to begin getting ready for the dinner. I used the little desk as a vanity and proceeded to do whatever I could to look as good as I could.
The effort was worth it. There must be something to this glowy thing you hear about pregnant women having. I had it. There was a sparkle in my eyes. My complexion was porcelain with a soft rose tint. My hair was shiny and curling just right at my shoulders.
Once I was dressed, I looked better than good. I had my war paint on and my best suit, one modeled after Chanel in a lightweight black wool with gold braid. I was wearing my small gold earrings, my gold watch, and a gold and opal ring I’d always considered lucky. I slipped on my highest heels, black with a grosgrain bow, and practiced walking across the sitting room until I was comfy in them.
I was ready for Miss Trenton. As far as Dan was concerned? Eat your heart out, buddy boy. You really should have come back to your room last night.
Chapter Twenty-Three
For This I Should Give Thanks?
As I left the suite, it hit me.
I hadn't rescued Charlie. I hadn't taken him to see Kenisha the night before. He or she or whatever pronoun I was using at the moment was probably miffed. I had to smooth some ruffled fur.
I suspected that everybody at the castle had today off as well as tomorrow. I was surprised to find two people at the counter in the kennels. Both of them were smiling, looking happy to be there. Not like the sometimes grumpy attitude you got from humans working retail.
I think you should have to take some kind of aptitude test before you're allowed to work in a store. One of the questions should be: do you receive a great deal of pleasure from ridiculing your customers? Another question: does it give you a perverse pleasure to make people wait even when there is no need for them to do so? Do you hate your mother? Have you taken this damn job only until your: a) your ship comes in, b) you meet your sugar daddy/mommy or c) you strike it rich in the lottery? If the answer is yes to any of the above it should be an automatic disqualification for wearing an kind of orange apron or a name tag of any sort.
As a commercial insurance adjuster, I saw employees at their worst. Yet some of them were pretty damn good even in bad situations. From what I'd seen at Arthur's Folly, the employees were in the latter category.
It might be because Dan paid very well. The benefits of working at the castle might be unbelievable. Or they might all the elves and just naturally jolly. Either one was feasible.
I was greeted by name and one of the attendants turned to get Charlie before I said a word. I stopped him.
"I'm going to the banquet," I said. What else did you call a dinner being served in the banquet hall? I've been staying at Arthur's Folly too long. Pretty soon I was going to start wearing a wimple and have a long trailing handkerchief dangling from one hand, doling out my favor to the knight who struck my fancy. My thoughts went to Dan again and I shut them off.
"I can't take Charlie with me, but I'd like to see him for a few minutes. Also, do you have any treats I could give him?"
Both the male and female attendant looked at me sympathetically. Did they realize I was trying to curry favor or at least apologize for my abandonment? Not that Charlie had been neglected at the kennel. He'd been fed and watered and walked and no doubt petted and adored.
Still, he was my responsibility, and the fact that I had let my libido overwhelm everything else embarrassed me little, especially since I'd been in fifth gear, but the tires hadn't moved.
The female attendant – Jenny – reached under the counter and grabbed a wicker tray. On it were a selection of small bags of any kind of dog treat you might want. I picked out one of liver and one of cheese and thanked her.
"He's fine, you know," she said, her brown eyes warm. “He might have missed you, but he was fine."
I almost asked her if Charlie had said anything before I caught myself. I managed a weak smile and waited until David, the other attendant, fetched Charlie for me.
There was a waiting area on the other side of the counter. I sat there and opened the little packages of treats. First I heard the scrabbling of toenails on the linoleum, then Charlie's heavy panting. I looked up to find him straining at the lease, pulling David as if he were a sled dog.
David let go with the leash and Charlie bounded into my arms, as if it had been weeks since we've seen each other.
I gave a second’s thought to my black wool suit before I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid my cheek against his head.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't get you last night. Forgive me."
I pulled back to look into his sweet face. “Kenisha’s asleep right now, so I can't take you to see her."
He lifted his nose to my ear as if sniffing my perfume.
"How is Mike?" Opie whispered.
I looked over at the two attendants who were smiling in my direction. Life would be a lot easier, and paradoxically more difficult, if word got out that Charlie was a talking dog. Well, not exactly a talking dog - a possessed dog.
"Still holding on," I said, ruffling the fur around Charlie’s face.
I hoped I hadn’t lied. Was one of Dan’s errands to check on Mike? Had he been so distressed about bad news that he’d gone to grieve in private?
Ah, hell, I was some kind of messed up not to have thought of that before. The word I was searching for was selfish.
"I have to go to Thanksgiving dinner," I said, vowing to discover what I could about Mike first. "But I will come and get you afterward."
I could swear that Charlie frowned at me. I'll bet that he liked turkey. Or maybe it was Opie’s reaction to being kept in the ken
nel on the holiday.
I reached for the snacks and nearly got my hand bit off. Never stand between a dog and liver. I managed to make him sit for the cheese treats. However, once they were gone, he turned fickle, directing his attention to David and Jenny. He was doing that on purpose to show me, without words, how annoyed he was. I grabbed the end of his leash and led him back to David.
"I'll come get him after dinner," I said.
Their comments were designed to be mollifying and I appreciated the effort.
“He’ll be fine. We’re having a Thanksgiving meal for the dogs, too. They're going to get just a little turkey so they don't feel left out."
I restrained myself from asking Opie if that would make up for my desertion and made my way out of the kennel before guilt overwhelmed me.
Honest, I had every intention of going to the sub-level, but a uniformed Arthur’s Folly employee waylaid me outside the kennel. He wore a dark green blazer with an appliqué of the castle on his right pocket. His black hair was cut in a military style, but he was too young to have been in the service. Did Dan have an intern program here at Arthur’s Folly?
“Mr. Travis asked me to take you to the banquet hall, Ms. Montgomery.”
He held out his arm and I debated whether to tell him I wanted to check on Mike first. Dr. Fernandez might not be around, given that it was Thanksgiving. Or Dr. Fong might be on duty. Either way, I doubted I was going to get much information. Kenisha wouldn’t be awake yet. I could probably learn more from Dan than anyone and he was, no doubt, involved in the preparations for the dinner.
So I nodded, placing one hand on his arm as he escorted me to the elevator. My other hand was occupied in brushing off Charlie’s hair from my black suit.
On the third floor, my escort turned left, looking back at me with a calm, questioning glance. I followed him down the hall, away from the other rooms I was familiar with on the third floor: the ballroom, the Knights of the Round Table room where the witches had congregated, and Dan’s suite of rooms.
I was led to a short staircase and descended five steps before coming to a door that looked like it had been repurposed from an old enchanted castle. When Roderick, the name of my escort, turned the latch and opened the door, I wasn't sure what to expect.
Maybe I had been thinking of something along the lines of Harry Potter. Rows and rows of long tables lit by candlelight, with bats and owls soaring overhead, the entire room presided over by Dan and his mother, a wizard and a witch.
Frankly, I was a little disappointed with what I got.
I was standing on a gallery encircling the banquet hall. A long and narrow room, it was illuminated by a wall of windows on the north side and rays of sunlight so bright my eyes watered. Only two long tables occupied the space, each covered in a snowy white tablecloth and enough silver to make the Hunt brothers proud. I had never seen so many silver goblets, for both wine and water, in one place. Even the charger plates were silver and I suspected it was sterling, not silver plate.
I guess, in keeping with my Harry Potter banquet hall expectations, I’d envisioned a gloomy room, something in dark browns and blacks, maybe with a touch of gold here and there to accentuate the medieval period.
Instead, the banquet hall resembled a monk’s illuminated manuscript. The carpet was in forest green and scarlet with traces of sunshine yellow. Cobalt blue hangings on the wall revealed a crest I suspected Arthur Peterson had designed for himself. The hangings on the wall opposite the window were modern tapestries, all featuring the castle in the background. Figures were woven throughout each scene. I wondered if they represented someone who was alive when Arthur had the tapestries created. Was Dan depicted? What about Janet? I knew of the antipathy Arthur had for Dan’s mother and doubted it.
"Mr. Travis asked me to bring you to the gallery,” Roderick said. “But he doesn’t seem to be here.”
I glanced at him. "Have you seen him today?"
He ducked his head a little before answering me. "No ma’am. I got my instructions in an email. Mr. Travis is not one to leave anything to chance."
I frowned at him. “Did he also tell you to pick me up at the kennels?"
"No ma'am. I went to your room and was told that you had gone to the kennels."
I didn’t ask him who had told him, because I suspected it was a what, not a who. No one had come out and admitted it, but I thought that my movements were probably tracked throughout the castle by some kind of GPS. Maybe it was my body signature or an electrical signal that each person sends out. I didn't have a doubt that Dan could locate me at any place inside the castle in a matter of seconds whether it was his wizardly empathy or his technology. Too bad I couldn't say the same about him.
Where the hell was he?
“Well, how do I get down?” I asked.
I was feeling a little self-conscious since some of the guests had noticed me and pointed out my presence to a few of the others.
I recognized employees who’d served me in the past and gave them a smile. One of the girls who delivered my meals smiled back brightly. Had she spread the word about my penchant for cheesecake? I doubted she needed to. The whole castle probably knew everything I did. I could feel my cheeks warm. I recognized a few of the men who’d stormed into my room when Maddock had affixed himself like a suction cup to my bedroom window, and a few more from two days ago when the ski-mask guy crept into my room.
I’d forgotten to ask Dan what had happened with him. Was he one of the matters he’d had to handle? And what about the mole?
Where was Dan?
Roderick led me to the stairs. He could have just pointed, but I guess his instructions from Dan included watching over me every step of the way. I descended the steps, pasting a smile on my face despite the fact that I’d caught sight of Janet in the crowd. Let’s just say that “glower” didn’t quite describe the look on her face. Thundercloud. Tornado. Wrath of God. Those were all closer.
My stomach rolled or maybe that was just my child recognizing danger. Good instincts, kid. Keep ‘em up. Maybe, just maybe, he was responding to his grandmother’s presence. That thought was enough to knock the smile from my face.
Normally, in a situation like this, people would have dismissed me and gone back to their conversations. They didn't. The group closest to me dispersed then encircled me, almost like an amoeba absorbing another amoeba. I had the strangest feeling that I was being both protected and assimilated.
"We've heard so much about you, Miss Montgomery," one stately gentleman said.
His white hair and lined face reassured me somewhat which was stupid since I’d already learned that some of the Brethren could alter their appearance.
I extended my hand and he shook it enthusiastically before introducing himself as William, Janet’s brother. Seconds later I met Sylvia, his wife. Her face was as lined as her husband’s, a telltale sign of living in South Texas and not giving a flip about sunscreen. Another relative, this one a first cousin, materialized at my side. She had short blond hair and a lean, sunburned face that managed to be competitive and friendly at the same time.
"I'm Gretchen," she said. "I grew up with Dan. Ask me any question you want to know and I'll spill all." She lowered her voice. "For a price, of course." She chuckled and my imaginative mind made her laughter sound sinister.
Exactly what had Dan told his relatives about me? Where was he?
Another cousin, Connie, with auburn hair and the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, began to talk about Dan as a child.
"All the neighborhood girls were mad for him, of course. Even back then he was the most charming boy, aside from his predilection for soldiering and violence. We hoped he’d grow out of that."
I wasn’t touching that comment with a ten foot aura.
I had no idea Dan had so many relatives. I couldn't help but wonder what Arthur Peterson had thought about his daughter-in-law's family. Had he repudiated them also? Or had he just been overwhelmed? I could identify.
I
saw Nonnie from across the room. She was wearing a dress I’d never seen before, a flowered print on a white background. It was belted at the waist but loose at the back, reminding me of something I’d seen in an old movie. Maybe Nonnie was getting into the medieval atmosphere. Her white hair was piled at the top of her head. She looked regal, important, and happy. When she caught sight of me, she began to smile. She nodded once, a gesture that caused warm feelings to wash over me. It was the first time since I’d been turned that I felt her approval.
I should have sought her out after the witch test, but I hadn't. Maybe I needed to make amends to her, too. I began to make my way across the room to her side, but before I could get there, Janet stepped in front of me.
"Where is my son?"
I blinked at her.
"I don't know," I said, trying to block out the feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I didn't like this. No one had seen Dan. As important as the Thanksgiving dinner was for him, he wouldn't have missed it.
“Did you ask his assistant?”
She looked surprised at my question.
“Maybe he had to go somewhere,” I added.
He was meeting with the representatives from the Brethren, I knew that much. Maybe someone had requested to see him today. Yet wouldn’t he have left word with someone?
“He would have called you,” Janet said. “He would have let you know. For some reason, you’re very important to my son. That’s why he did all this.” She spread her arms wide as if to encompass the entirety of the banquet hall.
I didn’t have a damn thing to say to that. Nor was I going to pretend that I was displeased. My little heart was beating like a tom-tom and I was breathing like a real person.
Janet took a few steps toward me and, coward that I was, I backed up. She was one of those people who turn puce when she was angry and right now she was pink, bordering on crimson.