"What are you doing?" Rhonda hissed.
I waved at her to shush and reached down--now remember--the last few times I'd done this met with a bad end--for the other person. But the overwhelming need to touch Dags was incredible. But apparently Rhonda remembered my Wraith touch and tried to stop me.
Her hand passed through my arm as I knelt down in front of Dags and touched his open palms.
Wind, darkness, howling, shadows--it was as if I were standing on a mountain top overlooking an apocalyptic scene of mass destruction. Only nothing in the ruins looked normal to me. There was nothing familiar. Only--
I saw his face--a face I'd never wanted to see again.
The Archer.
And he was angry. He screamed at me as did all those little weirdoes I'd seen behind Bonville in the atrium and they charged at me, over and over again, coming up the ragged mountain.
And then I popped back again, sitting on my butt in front of Dags --who was looking at me as if I were some sort of bug. At least he was solid again.
"I don't know what you did," Rhonda was saying as she reached around Dags' front and grabbed at his wrists. The marks on his hands were still there but not as bright. "But it worked. Now get in your body and let's get out of here."
I did as Rhonda said, sitting up in my body and dusting myself off as I stood. Looking around the wall again and seeing it clear, I motioned them to follow me. Rhonda helped Dags along with an arm beneath his shoulder --and in a hospital this looked fairly normal. So we moseyed on through to the front door and then across the walk to the parking garage. Once in the Volvo I took the wheel this time while Rhonda held onto Dags in the back seat.
I sure as hell hoped she didn't put the moves on him while he was in this condition. That would be like seven shades of wrong.
But as we pulled into traffic she called out, "He's fading again!"
Shit.
I pulled over and Rhonda and I switched places. I half pulled out of my body and would endure the weird mountain scene every time I touched him. The worst part of it for me was that every time I technically "pulled him back" those buggers were closer up the mountain side.
But I didn't see TC's face again. Only that first time.
So, what happens if I they reach me before we get him to Mom's? I really didn't wanna know.
But with Rhonda's Speed Racer imitation we made it to Little Five Points and up the driveway. Mom and Jemmy came out the door, the former in her blue caftan and the latter in that house dress. I slipped back into my body and realized the whole upper half was on pins and needles --like it went to sleep.
Weird.
Once Dags was inside --I noticed a weird wave in the air in the doorway when he crossed through --he was okay. The tattoos on his hands vanished and he wasn't as nauseated as he was before. Mom offered him some tea and Rhonda shook her head just where Dags and I could see (mom's tea's been a little off lately). He took it out of kindness but then poured it into one of the plants in the Tea Shop.
Poor Ficus.
Rhonda gave mom one of her highly detailed recounts of what happened at the restaurant with the odd acting Shadow Folk and then at the hospital.
Nona frowned. "Who's Charlie Holmes?"
Rhonda gave her a brief history between he and Daniel. "Evidently Cooper called him in."
"Well if Captain Cooper has confidence in him I do too."
Jemmy interrupted. "So, Zoë here was moved same as Dags there. Only his tattoos reacted and Zoë had to go all OOB and stop him from vanishing?"
Everyone nodded. Even Dags.
Dags waved to get my attention. "You saw them --moving up the mountain?"
I nodded. You did too?
"Yeah," he swallowed. "I --I didn't recognize where that place was. I mean--it didn't look like here. Like Earth."
And no, it hadn't. It had looked more like some wacko fantasy landscape in a Tolkien nightmare.
He didn't mention seeing TC, and for some reason neither did I. But I knew my reasons were more personal. If I did mention seeing the Archer again, I knew my mom would somehow lock me away, terrified that creature was going to change me into something else.
Everyone gathered at the table. Rhonda pulled out some day-old pastries, some iced tea from the fridge and I helped get the pot of tea (store bought) brewed and in a container for hot tea. Mom encouraged Dags to eat and even sat down beside him. Tim and Steve appeared, looking extremely brighter than usual.
Mom took the documents from Rhonda and looked at each one of them. I snacked on an espresso brownie. Zing! I was gonna be high on caffeine later. Yow! But man -- it was goooood.
"I think it's a set of contracts," Rhonda said. "For the Cruorem."
Mom nodded. I got the feeling from her rather grim expression that this was a bad thing. I sipped at my tea wishing for a hotdog. Or even a salad with lots of grilled chicken. I was starving again. Those peanuts just hadn't done it.
"The who?" Jemmy said.
Rhonda had already mentioned them today. Let's see what mom was going to say.
"A local Ceremonial group. Pretty much known more for their politics in the magical world rather than their works," Nona said. She was still looking over the documents. "Originally they were more of a nuisance --you'd hear about these public rituals in North Georgia and all the Wiccan groups would protest, going on camera to say this isn't what magic is all about."
I pursed my lips. Okay.
Dags looked from Rhonda to Nona. "How do you know about them like that?"
"Because I was at a few of those protests," Nona said. "Anyway --they vanished about three years ago. I figured internal politics had rotted them from the inside out. But apparently Dr. Bonville is back in town and I'm assuming he's their new leader." She looked at Dags. "And from the reaction you had in the hospital that close to him, unprotected, I'd say he's got a caller out on you, Mr. McConnell."
I got up and found my dry erase board on the papasan in the Botanica and came back to the table. I scribbled for a bit and then held it up. WHEN I TOUCH HIM, WE GO TO MOUNTAIN TOP.
Mom frowned. Rhonda grabbed up the Big Book of Everything and started flipping through it.
"Was it a mountain top that overlooked ruins?" Steve piped up.
I glanced at Dags. He nodded to the ghost and cleared his throat. He looked a little better. A little. "Yes. But the sky was all orange, and there were lots of odd shaped creatures coming up the side toward me."
Mom and Steve exchanged glances before Steve said, "I think he's using some sort of spell to summon Dags to the Abysmal."
Dags frowned. "The Abysmal?"
Rhonda gave him a brief explanation of Physical, Mental, Astral, Ethereal and Abysmal. Dags didn't look very comforted. "So you think Dr. Bonville is trying to draw me into the Abysmal –what the hell for?"
"I don't know why—unless he's trying to get rid of you. If you weren't in physical form, it could be used as a jail," Steve said. "But since you are and got yanked inside—you'd die pretty quick. The Physical can't exist in the Abysmal for more than say a few seconds before the lack of oxygen, lack of any real atmosphere would cause your body to implode. My assumption? I think he's using it as a short cut to summon you to him. Like, a portal between dimensions. A teleporting short cut." He frowned. "Only with some very ugly side effects if the summon fails."
"Side effects?" Dags squeaked.
Steve nodded. "Yeah, that dying thing I mentioned."
Dags looked like he was going to throw up.
Finally Rhonda asked the question. "So, what happens to Dags if he doesn't pull him out?"
Steve looked irritated. "What part of die here are we missing?"
Rhonda made a rude noise. "Touchy. Look, I'm just wondering--since there are four Guardians to represent the four quarters--then have the other three already been pulled through? Or is he specifically after Dags?"
Steve shrugged.
Good point.
Mom held up the brown papers. "These are contract
s --and very much worded like the one you stumbled on with Hirokumi and the Reverend between the Phantasm and symbiont. Only these all have blanks in them and there is a phrase here that talks about the Shadow Realm Walkers."
"You mean the Shadow Folk?" Rhonda said, looking up from the book. "Like the ones we just ran into at the restaurant?"
"Oh I don't know if they're the same shadows --but I think this is a contract between the Cruorem and --well --maybe the Brownies? I just can't be sure. The language is evasive."
Aw geez. Erase. Scribble. SO WHY BROWNIE WANT US TO FIND.
"Yeah," Rhonda said with a nod. "Good point. And I think we mentioned this to each other--but I got the distinct impression we --or rather Zoë --was dealing with two different camps in that restaurant."
Mom shook her head. "What do you mean?"
I nodded to Rhonda to talk. Easier for you, dude.
"Like we said, when we got there Dags and Zoë said they saw two of the little buggers and they tried to trip us up the stairs --but then a third one showed Zoë where the papers were."
Tim said, "You think there were two different pairings of Shadow Folk? Two different kinds?"
I nodded. I definitely felt a difference in them. The first were nasty and the second were nice. But I didn't scribble this down.
Nona nodded. "It's possible I guess."
Dags cleared his throat. His voice sounded thin and small. "I have a really weird question --" he looked around. Everyone was listening. "You said earlier that Shadow Folk --or the kind we think of as Brownies --weren't originally human?"
Mom shrugged. "That was the feeling comment. According to the book, they could have been."
"So," he shrugged. "If I'm understanding any of this--it is possible to turn someone into a Shadow Person?"
Rhonda shivered. So did I. That thought was just --well --oogie.
Mom shook her head. "I don't really know. The book says they're humans touched by the elements. I don't know how you'd do that. What kind of ritual or event would happen? But if there is a way to turn living people in to Shadow Forms--" she made a face. "I think it would call for the death of the living victim. Since the Folk live somewhere on the Astral, Abysmal or Ethereal."
"Well, that would make sense if you considered the transmitter theory we had. If their essence resided on the Astral, Abysmal or Ethereal planes, then we don't have the filters to see their true forms. Thus we get shadows." Rhonda said.
Jemmy grunted. "I say they're on the we-don't-go-there plane." She shifted in her chair. "But I'm curious, boy, why you asked that question?"
Dags shrugged. "I think it's because --while we were upstairs--and Zoë was following that one shadow around --I got a really familiar vibe from it."
"Vibe?" Mom said.
Rhonda patted her hand. "He got a feeling from it."
Mom shot Rhonda a "watch-it" look. Hey --now I know where I get that frown. The one Daniel said reminded him of an evil puppet.
Sigh. Daniel.
Tim spoke up. "So --and correct me on this since I'm trying to follow the conversation over a period of days --are you saying you recognized one of the Shadows?"
Dags shook his head. "Not the first two. Those felt wrong, kind of like the atrium felt in the hospital and the symbols immediately went active and I blasted them," he held out his hands. "All kinda--"
Scribble. OOGIE.
Dags nodded and pointed to my board. "Yeah, like that. But afterward when we realized there were more Shadows in the loft, that third one felt… calmer."
"No, not calm," Rhonda said with a tap to her chin. "It felt like desperation to me."
My stomach growled. I really needed food.
Nona held up her hands. "Wait...you blasted the first two away? What do you mean by blasted?"
Uh-oh. That's right. Mom didn't know about Mr. Bartender here and his freaky palm-powered powers.
This should be interesting.
I finished up my tea as Rhonda and Dags tag-teamed filling mom and Jemmy in on his tattoos and light power.
Mom's expression caught my attention. "Darren..." that was so mom, calling him by his given name and not his nickname. She held out her hand. "Let me see them."
Dags offered her his palms, face up.
I watched her clasp each hand in her own and then she rubbed her thumbs in the palms. The circles glowed a faint blue, exposing their details. Dags' closed his eyes and winced as if he were in pain.
"You do realize you're wide open," she arched an eyebrow at him as he focused on her face. "With these symbols cut into your skin--they're like an Open House sign for just about any un-fettered creature."
"Open House?" Dags swallowed.
Jemmy nodded. "Boy--this Bonville? Sounds like he was planning on using all four of you Guardians as sacrifices."
Rhonda sat forward. "For what?"
Jemmy smiled. "That, my dear, is exactly what we have to find out."
Nona smiled. "Most of these gitchi-goomie cults or groups use their books like diaries, recording everything from spells to meeting minutes in them. I'll bet if we find their grimoire, we'll know what Bonville's up to."
Grim-who?
Dags grinned at me as he took his hands from mom. "It's kinda like Rhonda's book here," he pointed to the Big Honking Book of Everything. "Like a Witch's Book of Shadows. It'll have all their spells and secrets in it."
Oh.
"Let's see if I can recap," Jemmy said with her hands on the table. "Zoë got a request from a hostess at a bar/restaurant in Roswell. Dags here actually works there as a bartender. One of the co-workers was tripped and ended up in the hospital and the manager refused to pay. Dags is actually owned by this Magician's group and they're trying to suck him back --and the Shadow Folk in the restaurant who are accused of tripping people and playing jokes actually helped you find these documents." She pointed to the papers in front of Nona. "Did I leave anything out?"
Sounded about right.
Nona spoke. "Jemmy and I will focus on why these documents are important. I can sort of decipher the first page, but the other pages are just jibberish without the secret decoder ring."
Hehehehe. I love my mom.
Sometimes.
"I suspect that the missing wife, as well as Maureen and the others, learned of Bonville's fiendish plot--because you know Magicians always have fiendish plots--and he killed them or did something to them. Dags --let me and Rhonda do something about those tattoos. In here you're fine, but out there you're done for."
Dags blanched.
Mom looked at me. "I need you and Rhonda to check out Maureen's apartment and see if there's anything in there that might lead us to where she went. But the big thing to do is get a hold of Bonville's Grimoire."
All eyes stared at Nona as if she'd lost her mind. And I think she had.
"Nona," Rhonda frowned. "Exactly how do you suppose we do that? I'm sure he's got it locked up in his home or where ever they do their mojo."
She smiled and I didn't like it. "I don't think he has that Grimoire anymore," she held up the documents. "These pages attest that it was taken, or defaced in some way."
"They do?" Rhonda said.
"You think those pages are out of the book itself?" Jemmy said.
"Yes I do," Nona said. "And if it was taken and these pages ripped out, my guess is either Bonville's wife," she looked at Dags, "Or Maureen took it."
"Which would make sense in a motive standpoint if he came after her," Dags said. "And you don't think he's found it?"
"No. But rest assured," she grinned and I still didn't like it. "If we can get our hands on it, he'll be coming after us as well."
Oh. Hell.
*****
CHAPTER SEVEN
The problem we faced--well okay we had several problems but I'm gonna concentrate on one at a time--was that we needed Dags to come with us to look at Maureen's apartment (he had a key!) but if he stepped outside of the house wards then he might get zapped.
Rhonda and
Mom moved into the Botanica while Dags and Jemmy talked about stuff in the corner. I decided to be useful and started picking up things and taking them back into the kitchen. Tim appeared there as well and was solid enough to open the dishwasher so I could load it.
"You got any Wraithy feelings on this one?"
I paused in the middle of putting a dessert plate into the washer. Uh…no. And what is Wraithy feelings?
"You know--kinda of like a spidey sense?"
I pursed my lips and shook my head before finishing up the dishes. Once that was done I poured myself another glass of tea over my half-melted ice and looked at my little spooky buddy. I don't get this thing with Dags--the whole marks on the hand thing. That's more Rhonda's schtick. But those things in that restaurant? I shook my head. There were two types of things--kinda like we were attacked by a set of apples and then an orange helped. They were both fruit, but just different kinds of fruits.
Tim laughed. "I'm not sure which is sadder--your analogy or the fact I understood it."
I blew him a quiet razzberry and sipped my tea. Mmm….sugary goodness. Oh shut up--I'm watching my sugar!
"You think that the oranges and the apples were related?"
I nodded. Yeah--just not in the way we think of as related. The apples felt--well pissed off. Angry. Irritated. I don't have the right word. But the orange was--well--scared. Sad. Desperate.
"Hey Zoë!" that was Rhonda.
I saluted Tim with the tea and moved out of the kitchen and into the Botanica. Mom and Rhonda had cleared the coffee table of its magazines and had a flat square of wood on it--with a pentagram carved out of it. Oh geez…don't these two ever stop? Was the one on the floor not enough that they had to make a portable altar thingie?
I was shocked Rhonda didn't have it on my iBook. She could call it an iPentagram.
Wait--iStar?
iPentacle?
Phhht.
Jemmy and Dags were with them as well, all kneeling and sitting down around the board. In the middle of it sat Dags' silver bracelet. Upon closer inspection I noticed it was a chain of little silver skulls--but they were stylized looking. Kinda like Day of the Dead skulls. That real silver?
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