Mad Maudlin

by Mercedes Lackey

This is bad. She wasn't quite sure how bad, or in what direction, but she knew it was bad. Kayla found herself out on the sidewalk, walking aimlessly away from the hospital. She didn't know where she was going. It hardly mattered now.

  * * *

  She wanted to cry. She wanted to hit something. She settled for finding a diner and calling Ria.

  "Hello?" Thank all the Gods, real and unreal, that Ria answered her phone. If she hadn't, it would have been the very last straw.

  "Ria? This is Kayla. What time did the hospital call you to say that Eric was better?"

  "What's wrong?" Ria demanded, instantly suspicious.

  "I'll tell you in a minute."

  "Let's see. Anita called them this morning about nine-fifteen and talked to Dr. Rodriguez. She talked to him for about ten minutes and called me just after that."

  So Eric had been at Gotham General—had existed—at nine-fifteen this morning. At least Ria still remembered he'd been there. Kayla felt a faint sense of relief at that. At least she wasn't the only one in the world who remembered that Eric was supposed to be in the hospital.

  "Well, I was up there around three. He wasn't there. Furthermore, they said he never had been there. No such patient."

  "I'll take care of it." There was a tone in Ria's voice Kayla had never heard before.

  "Ria?" She'd been scared a moment ago. Now she was really scared.

  "Listen to me, Kayla. It doesn't take magic to produce effects like that. Computer records can be changed. People can be bribed. I'm involved with . . . some rather annoying people just now. Anybody backchecking me might turn up Eric and decide to get to me through him. Call Anita. Tell her to look into it. And . . . it might be a good idea for you to drop out of sight until I get home. That, or go on up to my apartment and let me call in a security team for you."

  "Just what are you doing down there?" Kayla demanded.

  "Opening a nastier can of worms than I expected to, apparently," Ria answered, her voice distant and cold. "But if they've harmed Eric, I guarantee that when I'm through with them, they'll think Lord Aerune was one of the Backstreet Boys."

  "Now you're scaring me," Kayla said nervously.

  "Good. Then you'll be careful. Now call Anita. Warn Hosea, just in case. Will you go to my apartment?"

  Kayla thought about it. But that would mean staying out of sight until Ria showed up again, and she'd already been out of touch with Magnus and his friends for too long. A day was a lifetime when you were on the street. Anything could happen. Anything might already have happened.

  "No. There's things I gotta do that can't wait."

  Ria sighed, acknowledging defeat. "Then play least-in-sight for another twenty-four hours or so."

  "Are you sure about this?" Kayla demanded.

  "Better safe," Ria said cryptically, and hung up.

  My life has just become a John Grisham novel, Kayla thought, staring at the silent phone. Who were these people that Ria thought were after Eric and might be after her? What can of worms?

  What the hell was going on?

  It was a safe bet that nobody here on Sixth Avenue was going to have any answers for her. She stirred more sugar into her coffee.

  Dutifully, Kayla called Anita, telling her that Eric had disappeared from the hospital and, as far as anyone at Gotham General was willing to say, had never been there in the first place. Anita promised to check into it. Kayla told her to call Ria if she found out anything—much as she wanted to hear the answers herself, it wouldn't do her street cred any good to have her phone ring while she was playing Homeless Street Kid.

  After that she called Hosea, who didn't carry (or for that matter, own) a cell phone. She thought it over, and left a message on his answering machine, stressing the fact that she was safe, that Ria thought Eric's disappearance from the hospital might be related to her problems in Washington and not really to do with Eric at all, and that because of that, Ria wanted everyone connected with her to keep a low profile until she could get back.

  Kayla was pretty sure she'd covered everything in the phone message. But it would be just as well to see Hosea and give him the message in person. She knew his schedule varied, but he might be down at the homeless center. It was worth a shot, anyway.

  But she was closer to Somerset House than she was to Jacob Riis, and if she was going to try to talk Magnus and the others into going there, she'd better go and drop off one of Ria's checks. She dug through her backpack, looking for the notebook in which she'd written the address.

  * * *

  Somerset House was on the Upper West Side. It looked like a perfectly ordinary apartment building, except for the fact that there was a desk in the lobby with a book for signing in and out, and a woman with a name tag sitting behind the desk.

  "Can I help you?" the woman asked, as Kayla approached.

  People keep askin' that lately, and the answer always seems to be "No."

  "Um . . . a friend of mine down at Jacob Riis referred me here. He said you might have vacancies?"

  The woman pressed a button under her desk. In a moment, another woman entered the lobby. "If you'd come this way. . . ?"

  Kayla followed her into a bright and cheerful office that had once, obviously, been a ground-floor apartment.

  "I'm Miranda Sherwood. I'm in charge of Admissions here. What do you know about our program?"

  "That it's private, that it costs money, that you don't send kids back to their parents or tell their parents that they're here, that they have to be clean and sober and follow the rules. It's not for me. I'm here to pay for three other kids to come in."

  Miranda raised her eyebrows. "I thought I'd heard everything. Where are they?"

  Kayla hesitated.

  "Please don't lie, Ms. . . ."

  "Smith." Abruptly, Kayla realized how that must sound. "No, really. Kayla Smith. It's my real name. I can show you ID."

  "Maybe that would be a good idea," Miranda Sherwood said consideringly.

  Kayla hesitated, but everything she could sense from this woman told her that Miranda Sherwood could be trusted. And she was going to have to trust somebody, sooner or later, even if only a little. She dug around and pulled out her Columbia student ID. Miranda studied it for a moment and handed it back.

  "So, Kayla Smith, what's your interest in these 'three other kids'?"

  "I want to get them off the street before they die," Kayla said bluntly. "There's no possibility they'll go home. I think I can get them to come here." She hesitated. "Not if they know I had anything to do with paying for it."

  "Ms. Smith, it costs us over a thousand dollars a month per child to keep this place going. You don't think the kids come in with that kind of money, do you? As soon as they have jobs, they contribute to their upkeep, but—"

  "Actually, LlewellCo's paying for it," Kayla said.

  "Ria Llewellyn?" Miranda said, sounding surprised and dubious. Kayla nodded. She wasn't surprised that Miranda Sherwood wasn't buying it. She didn't exactly look like the kind of person who hung with Ria Llewellyn.

  "Is this some kind of a joke?" Miranda said, starting to become angry. "Because if it is—"

  "Fifty thousand dollars," Kayla said quickly.

  "I beg your pardon?" Miranda said.

  "You've got openings right now, don't you?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "I'll give you a check from Ria Llewellyn for fifty thousand dollars," Kayla said. "You take the kids. Call her bank. Better yet, call her personal assistant. I've got her number right here. Her name's Anita Sheldrake."

  "Could you wait outside for a moment? There are chairs in the lobby."

  "Yeah, right."

  Kayla went outside and sat down. Miranda was probably calling the police right now. They'd come and arrest Kayla on suspicion of making an eccentric charitable contribution.

  She rested her head on her knees, wishing she were still asleep in her bed. She wished Eric was here. She wished Ria was here. Either one of them could have finessed this operation a
whole lot better than Kayla just had.

  But if either one of them'd been around, she wouldn't've been in this situation in the first place.

  Eventually she sighed and sat up. Feeling sorry for herself wouldn't get her anywhere. She couldn't do anything for Eric right now, but Magnus, Ace, and Jaycie still needed her help. If Miranda Sherwood would just cooperate, maybe there was something she could do for them.

  While she waited, she saw a number of kids coming in and out, singly and in groups. All of them stopped at the desk to sign in or out, showing their IDs as they did.

  Kayla bit her lip. Could she talk the kids into coming to this place? Would they think the street was better and safer? Kayla knew it wasn't, but she had the benefit of a couple of years and a lot of experience.

  And you had to get clean and stay clean to be here. She knew Ace and Magnus qualified. But Jaycie?

  Kayla could clean out his system; sweep out whatever junk was in there. But she couldn't repair the emotional damage that had led him to choose that form of escape.

  "Ms. Smith?"

  Miranda was back. She was smiling, and her aura read puzzled.

  Kayla followed her back into the office.

  "I just spoke to Ms. Sheldrake. She described you in detail. We had a . . . very interesting conversation."

  I just bet.

  "Apparently Ms. Llewellyn's offer is on the level," Miranda said. "And Ms. Sheldrake indicated that LlewellCo would not be averse to providing additional funding to our program beyond your initial contribution."

  "Yeah. That's the kind of thing Ria does a lot of. So you'll take them?" Kayla said with relief.

  "We'll be happy to. But they won't receive any special treatment. We don't force anyone to stay here, and if they break the rules, they have to leave. So: no drugs, no drinking, no tobacco, nothing illegal—and that includes sex."

  "Sex is illegal?" Kayla asked, surprised. Not that casual sex was a big item in the future of a Empath. But she always liked to know when she was breaking the law.

  Miranda smiled. "If you're under eighteen it is, and almost all of our residents are, except for a few special cases. Here, let me give you a couple of brochures. They've got our address on them, in case your friends want to come in on their own."

  "And you'll keep my name out of things?" Kayla said quickly.

  "We have a policy of not lying to our clients, because it's very important to us to build a trust relationship with them, but as far as I'm concerned, Ria Llewellyn has made a generous donation to our facility that has made it possible for us to accept your friends. I can't say I won't ever tell them, but I certainly won't volunteer the information, and I don't really think it will come up immediately. Now, I believe you have a check for us?"

  * * *

  A few minutes later Kayla was back out on the street, having signed over the contents of what Anita had called Ria's "slush account" to Somerset House.

  She hoped she'd done the right thing. But now, this way, at least Magnus and the others would have a safe place to go, and could stay as long as they wanted or needed to. And if they didn't come here, Miranda Sherwood could certainly put the money to good use helping a lot of other kids.

  She was exhausted, thinking longingly of her apartment and her bed. She stopped on the street to phone Hosea's apartment, but he still didn't answer. She supposed she'd better head on down to the shelter. At least they'd give her coffee.

  She walked over to the A train and caught it all the way downtown. It was getting into rush hour now, so the trains were running more frequently, and she made good time. The trek across town woke her up a bit; it was already dark when she got back up onto street level, and getting colder. And she was hungry again. Well, she'd taken a lot out of herself in the last twenty-four; had to pay it back one way or another, calories or sleep. She bought some dried apricots from a street vendor and ate them as she walked across town, toward the shelter.

  Gotta feed the beast.

  She was a block away from the shelter when she saw the last person she would have expected to see.

  * * *

  It had been risky—she'd been scared to death the entire time—but it'd been worth it, even with having to get down here at noon to be sure of having a place in line, the long wait, and then being afraid her things would be stolen. But if she'd left the important stuff back at The Place, she could be almost sure it wouldn't be there when she got back, the way things were there these days. So with much hesitation, Ace had brought the money along. There was quite a bit of it, even with Jaycie not bringing in as much as before, and the other kids holding out because they knew she'd pay for food and things.

  But being able to take a shower . . . ! To be clean, really clean, all over, and warm, even if it was only for a little while, and wash her hair. Even though she'd had to get right back into the same dirty clothes she'd come in, she still felt better. And she was sure she smelled better, too.

  And Hosea Songmaker hadn't lied. Nobody had given her any trouble. And everything had been right where she'd left it.

  She'd better hurry now. She'd had to wait a long time in line to get in. It was already dark, and she didn't like being on the streets after dark. She didn't like leaving Jaycie alone for very long these days, either. Magnus was there, but sometimes he didn't see things quite the way she did. He still thought Jaycie was doing okay, when Ace knew he wasn't. And whether Magnus was willing to see it or not, things were getting worse all around up at The Place.

  The three of them had to get out of there. That fight with Chinaka and Shimene and the others last week had been bad—and when Eric had just disappeared, and then Kayla, they'd accused Ace of going behind their backs and getting the two of them to leave. Now Chinaka wanted the two of them to leave—they'd want to keep Jaycie of course, but they had another think coming there. But where were the three of them going to go?

  She was walking back toward the subway when she saw a familiar figure walking toward her.

  "Kayla!"

  * * *

  Kayla stopped. It was Ace.

  Busted.

  She glanced down at herself. Same jacket she'd been wearing the last time Ace had seen her, and she supposed the rest of her outfit would pass muster if someone weren't too suspicious.

  Only she knew "suspicious" was Ace's middle name. And last, probably.

  "Hi," Kayla said resignedly.

  "You're too late to get a shower. All the slots're filled," Ace said.

  Kayla shrugged. Shower? "Next time, I guess."

  "So," Ace said, a little too casually, "are you and Eric coming back?"

  She wants us back, Kayla realized with surprise.

  "Can't find him," Kayla said honestly. "Been looking all over for him. Guess he took off without me."

  "Too bad," Ace said sympathetically. She seemed sincerely disappointed, which puzzled Kayla. "Guess it's just you, then. We kept your stuff."

  "Sure," Kayla said, falling in beside her and turning away from the shelter. What does she want?

  She hated the thought of missing the chance of talking to Hosea, but he might not even be there anyway. The message on his answering machine would have to do. And hooking up with Ace was more important.

  * * *

  Hosea returned home around seven, having played for the subway crowds. He could shower and change, go up and see Eric during evening visiting hours, then maybe head back down to the shelter and see if he could do a little eavesdropping on the children to try to pick up the last missing pieces of the Secret Stories.

  Bloody Mary's True Name was the key—he was sure of it. But what could it be? What sort of demon could a four-year-old child imagine that was terrible enough to frighten God Himself?

  The answering machine message light was flashing spastically when he got in. He hurried over to it to play back his messages, thinking that perhaps Caity had called.

  But no. It was Kayla. She'd had to call several times to leave her full message, because the machine kept cu
tting her off.

  Eric had vanished from Gotham General sometime this morning, and no one there remembered he'd even been there. Miz Llewellyn thought it was connected to her problems in Washington. Kayla intended to disappear until Ria got back. Hosea might be in danger himself.

  "What . . . a . . . mess," Hosea said, at a loss for words. "Greystone?"

  After a few moments there was a scrabbling on the fire escape, and Hosea's bedroom window opened. Greystone came clumping into the living room, his carven simian face grave.

  "Trouble, boyo?" he asked.

  "In every size and shape you care to name," Hosea said grimly. "Listen to this." He played back Kayla's messages.

  "Well," Greystone said, "the lass sounds half-demented, and who's going to blame her, with Eric gone missing again." The gargoyle sighed. "And things were going so well, too."

  "What am Ah goin' to do?" Hosea said. "Ah don't have much to worry about—it's not likely anybody'd be comin' after me, and Ah can take care o' myself, what with bein' a Guardian and all. But Little Bit's got more confidence than common sense, sometimes. An' Ah don't know where she's gotten herself to. But you do," he said, fixing Greystone with a level blue-eyed stare.

  "Ah, now, laddie, sure an' you wouldn't be askin' me to trespass on the sacred bound of confidentiality," Greystone said, taking a step backward.

  "If somethin' bad happens to Kayla because Ah don't know where she is, Miz Llewellyn is going to turn you into driveway gravel—and Ah might be persuaded to help her," Hosea said meaningfully. "Right now Little Bit's the only one who knows where Eric's brother is. That don't do anybody any good."

  "You're right." Greystone sighed. His wings drooped. After a long pause, the gargoyle spoke. "The kids are holed up in a condemned tenement up near Harlem—hold still and I'll show you where it is."

  Greystone concentrated, his features contorting in a grimace of concentration. A picture formed in Hosea's mind, and suddenly he knew where The Place was, and exactly how to find it.

  "You aren't planning on making any bull moves, are you, laddiebuck?" Greystone asked anxiously.

  "Ah guess not," Hosea said slowly. He felt better knowing where Kayla was. Not the best neighborhood in Manhattan, but her empathic abilities should give her the ability to avoid trouble if she could. And somebody had to keep an eye on Magnus. "Ah just wish Ah knew where the devil Eric was."