The Illusionist - 3rd Edition

by Fran Heckrotte

  Dakota grinned.

  "Thanks. Anyway,I don't even know her. I met her once. I can't even get in touch with her now unless I can attract her attention at her next performance."

  Grandma Dakota slapped her hands against her legs, laughing hard.

  "Why, chile, ya already has that. More'n ya thinks. For sure, that one noticed ya. She sees a lot of things, she does. Mind ya, she's a bit tall with a bit of darkness to her, but she's good. Yesseree. If I wasn't daid, I'd be beddin' her right now, snugglin' up all close and warm, runnin' my fingers through that thar long dark hair. She gots some mighty fine teets if ya knowed what I mean. Bet she could even make the likes of me scream like a banshee." She chuckled.

  Shocked, Dakota's jaw dropped.

  "Granny!"

  "Oh, dun ya be a grannyin' me like some innocent. Ya ken't wait to give that one a roll in the hay, so don't be getting' all high and mighty, missy. Ya liked the gals all yer life and ya knowed it. An ya don't knowed a thing 'bout screamin'. I seed ya. Ya thinks that little tingle is all they is. Well, I's here to tell ya, one night with the magic woman and ya'd be a lappin' at that thar bush like a dog lappin' gravy. Ya takes after me that way." Grandma Dakota grinned.

  Blushing, Dakota glanced down, then quickly raised her eyes after glimpsing her pubic hairs. This had to be a dream, a warped one, too. Who in their right mind would dress up like this, even in a dream, let alone be discussing this type of thing with her grandmother?

  "Well, now, missy, theys just happens ta be what I wore for years. Those breeches are warm in winter and likes I says before... cunvenyent."

  "How can they be warm? I'd freeze my butt, and my snatc... um... the rest of me in this thing."

  "Hee..hee... hee… That's why ya needs a pardner. She'd take care of warmin' that thar bush of yourn. But enough jawin'. Ya needs to get back to wheres ya at. That thar package is come."

  "But — "

  * * *

  The ringing of a phone aroused Dakota from her dream.

  "Hello."

  "Bon nuit, mademoiselle. You wished to be awakened, yes?"

  "Yes, I did. Thank you, Nathalie. Has my package arrived?"

  "Oui, it is at the front desk. Do you wish it to be brought to your room?"

  "That would be great, thanks."

  "Very good. Au revoir, mademoiselle."

  "Goodbye."

  A few minutes later, the envelope containing her ticket to Yemaya's performance was delivered to her room. While she was waiting, she thought about the strange dream. It definitely wasn't like anything she had ever experienced before.

  "If that's what Granny was like, she was one strange woman," Dakota mumbled as she prepared to go out for dinner.

  * * *

  The Hotel Bonaventure's manager greeted Yemaya enthusiastically.

  "Bonjour, Mademoiselle Lysanne. Comment ça va?"

  "Très bien, Monsier Duval. Merci. Et vous?"

  "Bien aussi. Puis-je vous montrer votre suite?" he asked tentatively.

  "D'accord."

  "Nous avons tout arrangé selon vos spécifications.Vous êtes enregistrée sous le nom de Jennifer Sommers. Le personnel a été avisé de l'importance de garder votre identité secrète; vous pouvez compter sur leur loyauté et leur discrétion?"

  "Encore une fois, merci, Monsieur Duval."

  After the formality of inspecting the penthouse, Yemaya walked onto the terrace overlooking the vast garden. Ducks swam in the small landscaped ponds. She was always impressed by the atmosphere and service at this particular hotel, not to mention the staff's ability to keep her identity secret.

  Returning to the bedroom and her luggage, she unlocked the suitcases. A ringing phone interrupted the unpacking.

  "Bonsoir, Mademoiselle Sommers. Vous avez un appel de votre frère."

  "Merci. Hello, brother. How was your trip?"

  "It went well, but there is trouble brewing. Someone definitely is trying to acquire a lot of information about you, and apparently, that person is very powerful."

  "Did Sonny have any more information about Charleston?"

  "No. Do you have any idea who might have sabotaged the platform?"

  "I think it may have something to do with whoever has been trying to get information from my contacts in the U.S. government, not that they will succeed. No one knows that much about us. At the moment I am more concerned about one of my employees getting hurt or killed."

  "Do you wish me to send our own security?" Raidon asked.

  "No, they would know I suspect something. I should be able to handle things from this end. After this show, I will be coming home. We can discuss this further then."

  "As you wish, Sister. Be careful. Until we find out who is behind these attempts, you must be vigilant."

  "I will, Raidon. And you, too. This may have to do with more than just me. Our people cannot afford to be exposed to public scrutiny. I will these you at the end of the week. Goodbye."

  "Be safe."

  * * *

  Yemaya had just settled in bed when the phone rang again.

  "Bonsoir."

  "Bonsoir, Mademoiselle Sommers. Vous avez un appel de Monsieur Marino."

  "Merci. Hello, Sonny."

  "Good evening, Yemaya. Good news. I found the whereabouts of your journalist, a Ms. Dakota Devereaux, to be exact."

  "Where can I reach her?"

  "Well, right about now, I imagine she's in bed at the Best Western Europa. Room 223."

  "You mean she is here in Montreal?" Yemaya asked, stunned.

  "That's exactly what I mean. Apparently, this young woman has a fixation with you. She's attended several of your shows lately. As to the other matters, I still don't have any leads about the sabotage, but I've got people investigating a few angles. When will you be heading home?"

  "The end of the week at the latest. Please handle anything that comes up in the States. I should be back in a few months."

  "No problem. I'll contact you if anything unusual crops up. Enjoy your stay and give my regards to the family."

  "Thank you, Sonny. I appreciate your efforts."

  Hanging up the phone, Yemaya decided to send a message to Dakota. Dialing the front desk, she recognized the receptionist's voice.

  "Bon nuit, Michelle. Veuillez livrer une note à Mademoiselle Devereaux, à l'hôtel Best Western Europa, chambre 223, s'il-vous-plaît." She then dictated a short message.

  * * *

  Dakota was just walking into her room when the phone rang.

  "Hello."

  "Ms. Devereaux, I have a message for you from a Ms. Sommers."

  "Ms. Sommers? I don't know anyone by that name. What does the message say?"

  "She says, 'I would like to meet with you for breakfast to further discuss your great-great-grandmother Dakota. If possible, please join me at the Hotel Bonaventura at eight a.m.' It's signed Jennifer Sommers. Do you want me to reply?" the desk clerk asked.

  "Definitely. Tell Ms.… uh... Sommers I'll be there. And thank you."

  "Hot damn!" Dakota whooped, dancing around the room. "Looks like she didn't forget me. Okay, settle down, Dakota. What are you going to wear? Something nice, of course. Crap! I don't have much with me."

  Eventually, she settled on a pair of relatively new Levi's and a pullover burgundy sweater.

  "Well, at least she can't say I overdressed." She chuckled the following morning as she scowled at her image in the full-length mirror.

  * * *

  Yemaya was reading the newspaper in Le Castillion Restaurant when Dakota entered the room. Sensing her arrival, Yemaya looked up in time to see the head waiter pointing in her direction. Dakota was dressed in blue jeans and a burgundy sweater, and looked like a twenty year old. Standing, Yemaya smiled at her as she neared the table.

  "Good morning, Dakota."

  "Good morning, Yem... Jennifer. How are you doing?" Dakota sat in the chair nearest Yemaya. "And how is the leg?"

  "The leg is much better, thank you. The stitches are out."


  "Really? You've healed already?"

  "Pretty much. At least enough that it does not bother me now," Yemaya said nonchalantly.

  "That's good. I know you have a show in three days. I was worried it might affect your performance."

  "Thanks, but it will not be a problem," Yemaya assured Dakota.

  "I don't see anything scheduled after this one," Dakota said.

  "I will be returning home for awhile."

  The information caught Dakota by surprise and she felt a momentary loss. Looking down, she clutched her hands together under the table before raising her eyes to look at Yemaya.

  "You must be excited about that," she said unenthusiastically.

  "I enjoy being with my friends and family," Yemaya agreed. Dakota's disappointment had not escaped her.

  "Well, you've earned some time off," Dakota said, trying to sound more excited.

  "Thank you. What have you been doing since my last debacle?" Yemaya asked, changing the subject.

  "Oh, I'm still doing research for my article. You're the last on my list, so I guess I'll be heading back home after the show. My boss is getting anxious about the article so I need to at least give him an update about the content."

  Yemaya motioned for the waiter to bring coffee and croissants before commenting.

  "What is he expecting you to write?"

  "Some sensational exposé would be wonderful, but I think it'll be more about the lives of illusionists. At the moment I don't have anything earth shattering, but there's enough to give the readers something to think about."

  "Hmm... " Yemaya said, hesitantly, "I know we've just met, but I have a proposition for you."

  "I'm all ears. What's up?" Dakota asked, her curiosity piqued.

  "I was wondering if you would like to join me for a few weeks at my home."

  "You mean in Moldova?" Dakota was stunned by the invitation.

  "Well, Taraclia, to be exact."

  "Taraclia? I've never heard of it."

  "Few people outside of our country have. It is a small town."

  "It all sounds so... I don't know... exotic," Dakota replied, overwhelmed.

  Yemaya laughed.

  "Not even close. You can think about it and let me know in the next few days. I may even give you an interview if you decide to join me," Yemaya teased, her blue eyes twinkling with laughter.

  Dakota smiled. "How could I refuse such an interesting proposition? But, why? I mean, you don't even know me."

  "I always keep my word and it is as good a way as any for you to get that interview. Besides, I think I would like to learn more about you and your job. I may have use for your services… professional of course," Yemaya clarified.

  "Of course. Won't I need a visa and tickets?" Dakota asked.

  "Normally, yes. As my guest, though, entry will not be a problem. I have chartered a jet to take me — us — there. The flight is about eleven hours, and we will leave immediately after the performance, that is if you decide to join me."

  "How could I refuse?" Dakota exclaimed enthusiastically.

  "Good. Bring your bags to the theater. I can make arrangements to have you picked up from the hotel."

  "That would be great. Anything special I'll need?"

  "Not that I can think of."

  Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a quiet melody. Reaching down, Yemaya pulled a cell phone from her jacket pocket. Excusing herself she flipped it open.

  "Allo, Raidon. No, you are not interrupting me, but I am with someone. I will speak English so as not to appear rude. Yes, I will be bringing someone back... a guest... No, I see no need for that."

  Dakota looked around the restaurant, trying not to eavesdrop. Finally giving up, she listened quietly as Yemaya conversed with the other party. It quickly became evident she was the main topic being discussed.

  "No, Raidon, that will not be necessary. Please do as I say on this matter. Understand?... Good... We should be there in a few days. Please warn the children of our arrival, otherwise they are sure to cause problems for my guest... The room next to mine will be fine... Very good... We will talk more when I get home... And to you too, brother."

  Putting the phone away, she looked at Dakota.

  "My brother. He can be very pushy at times," Yemaya said.

  Dakota barely heard Yemaya's comment. Her mind focused on the word children, and she was stunned. Was Yemaya married? The thought caused her stomach to knot. She had felt a connection with the other woman. If she was married, grandmother Dakota was wrong.

  What am I doing? It was only a dream. Her thoughts were interrupted by a hand touching hers.

  "Dakota, is everything all right?"

  "Uh… oh, yeah… just thinking," Dakota replied, in an attempt to avoid what was actually bothering her. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

  "Nothing important. You appear... distracted."

  "No, not really. Just a silly dream I had yesterday."

  "Do you want to tell me about it? Sometimes it helps to talk about such things."

  Relenting, Dakota related the dream but left out the more intimate details. Yemaya listened intently, amused at the animated description.

  When Dakota finished, Yemaya leaned back in her chair not sure if she should disclose the details of her own dream. It wasn't necessarily strange that they both had dreamt about the same woman, considering their earlier conversation. What puzzled Yemaya was that the grandmother had called her magic woman in both dreams as well as a threat. She wished she were home so she could talk to Raidon. He was always a voice of reason.

  After a few moments, Yemaya leaned forward and placed her hand gently over Dakota's.

  "It appears your elder has been busy. I too dreamt of her. She looked very much like you."

  "You dreamt of my grandmother? When? What happened in it? What did she say?"

  "It was not unlike yours. Mine was in a meadow covered in flowers. She was chanting at first but then came over and talked with me. She called me magic woman and talked about a darkness coming."

  "This has to be more than coincidence … doesn't it?" Dakota asked, frowning slightly.

  "I have to agree. Perhaps once we get to Moldova, we might discover a little more." Looking at her watch, Yemaya sighed. "Unfortunately, I have to leave now. Would you join me for dinner this evening?"

  "I'd like that."

  "Good, I will send a car for you about seven."

  "I'll catch you later. Bye," Dakota said.

  The two women stood simultaneously. Without thinking, Yemaya reached over and brushed some bangs from Dakota's eyes.

  "You have beautiful hair," she remarked. Smiling, she stepped past the shocked woman and walked from the room. It took Dakota several minutes before she could bring herself to leave the restaurant. The innocent action of the other woman left her hot and flustered.

  You're right, Grandma. She'd be something else in bed, Dakota thought. I think I'm having an orgasm just thinking about it. She shook her head when soft laughter flowed gently through her mind.

  CHAPTER 8

  DURING THE NEXT two days, Yemaya and Dakota made it a point to have breakfast together. Afterward Yemaya would leave for the theater while Dakota returned to her room to work on her article. Her boss was ecstatic when he heard she'd be joining Yemaya on her return trip to her homeland.

  The day of the performance, Yemaya sent a limousine to pick Dakota up an hour before the show started. Dakota was delivered to the backstage door and then escorted to her seat.

  When Yemaya stepped onto the stage, her eyes immediately searched for Dakota. Once located, the Illusionist nodded slightly and smiled. Her attention then returned to the audience and the show began.

  Because constantly transporting Shezara to the different locations would have been logistically difficult and extremely risky for the shark, Yemaya had decided to use her in only two performances during her tour. Charleston had been selected as the shark's final show.

  * * *


  Yemaya's theme for Montreal was based on a story about a demon searching for souls. Dressed in a tight black and flame-colored body suit, she made a magnificent demon. The mask was shaped and colored like flames. As she strolled across the stage, her body suit shimmered, her fluid movements making the design flicker like real fire. Several members of the crew were dressed as minor demons or angels, all battling for souls. Yemaya would move toward a particular victim, circle it menacingly, her laughter wild in a cold, maniacal way. With a wave of her left hand, the lost soul was surrounded in a gray swirling mist.