Dream Stalker: Talented: Book 1

by Hopkins, Amy

  I raised my eyebrows at him, but had to laugh when the brownie returned with the coffee and a box of aspirin. "You read my mind," I said.

  "No, I read your face. I'd heard the expression 'bear with a sore head' but I'd never realised how literal it was."

  I considered throwing the box at his head, but decided I needed it too much. I gulped down two tablets, then threw it.

  Martin caught it with one hand and I wrinkled my nose at him irritably. He laughed back at me, then sobered.

  "I didn't get a chance to thank you last night. You saved my life, didn't you? I mean they treated me well enough before you got there but if you hadn't managed to pass that test, I get the feeling bad things would have happened to me."

  "Harrod tried, he tried so hard but-"

  "Oh I know. I saw it. His arm... Gods. I could see what was happening to me, I could feel it, but you did something. It was as though the pain - the fire, or the twisting - it would hurt so much, it was breaking my bones or cooking me from inside. Then you would... stop it. I don't even know if it makes sense. I wasn't sure if Harrod's arm would get better but it did. You did that, didn't you?"

  "I don't know,” I said softly. "I didn't know what I was doing. I just tried to block out the curse, refuse to believe it. It was just a mind trick, something to help me bear the pain. I didn't think it would actually do anything."

  "They know." Martin looked at the floor.

  "Know what?"

  "That you're special. I could feel it, when I was with them. They were really interested in you. When they were... ahem... while I was waiting for you to get there, they kept asking me questions. They didn't make any sense." He'd flushed a deep shade of red when he'd mentioned his time with them. I tried not to wonder how he'd passed the time.

  "What did they ask? There's really nothing that interesting about me. Fae don't hate the half-bloods but they're not exactly overwhelmed by us either. They were probably trying to find out about the grail, or about Harrod. He's incredibly strong, even for a full blood Talent. They probably want him for something, it's how they work - they wouldn't bother with someone like me when Harrod's in the room."

  "Harrod didn't hold on." His eyes met mine, full of gratitude.

  "I told you, that wasn't his fault!"

  "Yes I know, I don't blame him for it at all, but they knew, Emma, they knew you'd be able to do it. It's important. Do you remember what they said? 'You have two things you need'. Harrod was one of them. You and him. I don't know what happened, just that they wouldn't let you in until... I don't know, you'd kissed and made up or something. Before that, they were arguing. One asked what would happen if their little delay didn't work. The woman, the one who let us go? Said it didn't matter, that you're the key so that meant it would work out. A lot of it was fuzzy, like I'd been drinking, but I remember parts." He looked at me, struck by a thought. "Come to think of it, exactly how close did you two get on your way to rescue me?"

  I snorted. "Pretty close to killing each other. We argued; damn near tore each other apart. Let off some steam, apologised, then forgave each other. That's it."

  For some reason he didn't look convinced, but he didn't bring it up again. One of the brownies tapped on the door and entered. "Master Harrod is awake, sir. Will the lady be staying for breakfast?"

  "Sure, Cym. Make it a decent spread, will you? We're starving."

  "Yessir." The brownie bowed and scuttled off.

  "The two of you have a house full of otherworld servants but you fall over at one little boggart?"

  "Boggarts aren't little, nor do they serve."

  "Mine does. How'd Harrod end up with brownies anyway? I wouldn't pick him as the sort to have bought them." I assumed Harrod had brought them with him when he left the city. Brownies didn't have a familial bond like boggarts do, so he hadn't simply inherited them.

  "They all owe him in one way or another. Oh, he's not making them work off debts or anything. He's helped them, freed a couple of them from mistreatment, that sort of thing. He was one of the major campaigners against the ownership of Otherworld beings. They're all here out of pure loyalty."

  "Wow." Ok, now I really felt like an ass for the assumptions I'd made about Harrod when we first met. I was saved from having to say anything else by the arrival of the man himself.

  "Morning" he mumbled.

  "Harrod... you look like hell." Martin said what I was too polite to say aloud.

  "I feel it too," he said. "Didn't sleep. Bad dreams. There was a really angry dragon trying to bite my arm off..."

  What we'd been through the day before was enough to give anyone nightmares. Added to that, the Fae realms could get into your head in weird ways. I was more surprised that Martin and I had actually slept.

  Cym returned a moment later to announce breakfast. We headed into the dining room to find a lavish spread, consisting of bacon, eggs, mushrooms and fat chunks of toasted bread. We fell to eating, hungry enough that conversation stopped for a while. Once I'd had my fill and topped it off with hot tea, I stood to go.

  "I'd better get back; I need to check on Lenny. Hell, my shops been closed for a week now, I've probably lost half my client base."

  "I'm sure they won't mind," Harrod said.

  "The shop is my livelihood, Harrod. If I don't sell, I don't eat. I don't even know if I've got anything TO sell, I've been so busy with all this..." It might not be on the level of serial killers and Otherworld adventures, but this could end up being very real problem for me.

  "It's fine," Martin said. "Harrod's swimming in it. He'll cover your out of pockets."

  I raised an eyebrow at him. "Kind of you to offer up someone else's money."

  "No, really," Harrod said. "I mean, he's right and-" He actually seemed eager but I put my foot down.

  "It's fine. Really. A couple of days won't bankrupt me, but I really do have to go." I drank the last of the tea - it was really good - and stood to leave. I looked around for my things but all I'd bought with me... was Gibble. Right. I took a steadying breath, then allowed Harrod to show me to the front door.

  "I think I know someone who can help out with a gown. For the Gala. If not, there are places we can try. I'll let you know later today?"

  "Sure, thanks. I mean, I can buy a dress, I just don't know what I'm looking for. I haven't been to something like that since I was a child."

  "Of course, it's really not a problem." Harrod stopped at the door. "Are you and I... we're good?"

  "Yeah." My irritation vanished at his hesitant words. I smiled at him, then pulled him into a hug. "We're good."

  * * *

  I reached the door to my empty tea shop. There was a sign on the door: 'Out on Business. Back Soon. Or Maybe Not.' What on Earth?

  "Barg? You around?" I felt silly calling for someone who probably wasn't there, but a second later a small hobgoblin popped up out of nowhere.

  He saluted. "Yes, Lady! Barg is here, at your service!"

  "Um, thanks. You've been here the whole time?"

  "Yes, Lady!" He snapped another salute. "House is safe! Lenny-Dog is well! You will tell Gibble I have paid my debt!"

  "Uh... I'll tell Gibble you watched my house and fed my dog." He looked crestfallen. "I'll tell him you did a really good job though?"

  "Thank you, Lady!"

  "You don't need to salute me. Especially not every time you speak."

  "Yes, lady!" He saluted again.

  I shook my head and pulled my keys out. "How'd you get into... oh, right. Hobgoblin. Picked the lock?"

  "Yes, Lady!" Salute. "You have very good locks!"

  "Thanks. Oh, before I left I asked a friend to come over. You didn't run into her, did you?"

  "Yes, Lady! Mellie-nanny did come to offer nourishing tributes to the Lenny-Dog. I did reassure her that Lenny-Dig did not require tributes, Lady! However, Mellie-nanny did wish to continue to personally placate the Lenny-Dog. After the first time we met, she did not scream very much."

  "Ah. Well thanks again. Y
ou can go now. Farewell." He stood there and blinked at me. I sighed. "Ok, you can come in and have something to eat, if I can find something. Only if you stop saluting though. It's getting weird."

  "Yes, lady!" The hand jerked but stopped mid-way. Barg smiled sheepishly, then darted inside. Lenny bounded towards me and I leaned down to throw my arms around him. He looked wonderful, even smelled good.

  "Hey, did you wash my dog?"

  "Well... yes, Lady. You see, I got caught in rain shower. I was very cold. I thought, Barg, you need to warm up or you will freeze! So, I put the water in the big white inside-pond and I used the flower juices to make it smell nice. Lenny-Dog, he did not smell nice, so I made him swim in the inside-pond too." He looked bashful for a moment. "Lady," he whispered, "There is something wrong with the flower juices. It smelled very nice, but it made the water.... fluffy."

  Trying not to laugh, I thanked him for his efforts. I dreaded to see the mess he'd left in my bathroom but it seemed he'd taken good care of Lenny at least. After a moment hunting through the kitchen I found some honey, crackers and a couple of apples that were about to turn. Barg jumped on them and they were gone in a blink.

  "I will return to my duty now, Lady. Thank you for the fine refreshments."

  "You can go, really. I'm home now and I won't be leaving again."

  "I must wait for Gibble. I am not to leave until he returns!"

  "Oh. Barg, something happened in the Otherworld. Gibble... changed. He got big and angry and... I'm not sure when he's coming back."

  "Oh, Gibble went Wild? Yes, that is a boggart thing. He will return Lady! Do not fret! Gibble will unWild in the in-between and he will return to relieve Barg of duty!"

  "Oh thank the Gods. I didn't know what was happening, or if he's safe. It's normal then?"

  "Yes, Lady. After many years bonded to a family, some boggarts will turn into mellow buttery-cakes. They must return to Wild-form to do some things - to use Wildmagic, or to take oaths, or to... Did Gibble find a mate?! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, that will take a long time. Barg must go, have things to do!" The hobgoblin hopped from one foot to the other in worry.

  "No Barg, he didn't find a mate. I think he took an oath. He said we belonged to him. Three times. That was an oath?"

  "Ah, yes lady." He heaved a deep sigh of relief, hands dramatically to his chest. "Thrice said and will be done. He is bonded to you now, again. He must forevermore act as protector to all those he has claimed. It is a great honour, to be claimed twice by a boggart," He noticed my confusion and added “Once to your family many lives ago, and now once to you. I do not think that happens often."

  "Thank you, Barg. You may leave if you want. I will tell Gibble you've done a marvellous job." Crossing to the door I opened it expectantly.

  The tiny creature bowed deeply, stepped through the door, waved, then popped out of existence. I closed the door, then jumped when he popped back a moment later, inside the shop.

  "Ah, Lady... Barg almost forgot!"

  He handed me a card, then disappeared again. I had no doubt he'd be around somewhere. Otherworldlings take debts very seriously. Doors, however, were more of an optional thing.

  Absently taking my wand out I traced the lock shut again as I read the card. It was Greyson, asking if I could contact him. I winced. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to him, really. It would just be easier to explain the last few days after I had time to regroup. I picked up my phone to call him and breathed a sigh of relief when the call went to his message service.

  "It's Emma, I just got your message. I've been... away. I need to get some sleep but I'll be in the shop tomorrow if you still need to talk."

  I ended the call and looked around. I didn't have the energy to open the shop and besides, the day was half over. I went upstairs to inspect the damage. Not too bad. The bathroom smelled of cheap body wash and what looked like every towel I owned was piled in a corner covered in dog hair. The floor was still wet, too. Well, no rest for the wicked. I put the towels in to wash, mopped the floor and cleaned the mirror, which had comical pixie faces drawn on it in brown eyeliner. I checked the drawers - messier than normal but otherwise ok - threw my toothbrush in the bin (Gods knew where it had been over the last few days) and did the same to the razor when I realised it was out of place. Yech.

  I was tired down to my bones by the time I'd finished. That was an after-effect of our journey and I knew it'd hang around for a few days, like bad jetlag. I checked the wards that now permanently adorned my bedroom, then crawled into bed. Lenny joined me, snuggling up and licking my face. I was asleep in minutes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Greyson was waiting when I opened the shop the next day. I let him in, leaving him to entertain himself while I served the influx of customers. It was some time before I had the chance to talk to him. After closing for a week, my regular customers were eagerly waiting both for their teas, and to find out where I'd been. I tried to keep the details sparse but many had already heard about my trip to the Otherworld and Gibble 'going Wild'. Eventually I had to ask them to stop. The distraction didn't keep me from worrying about him. Eventually, the stream of people slowed to a trickle and I managed to break away to speak with Greyson, who'd stayed patiently waiting to one side until I was free.

  "I just wanted to check in on you, I saw the shop was closed and I was worried. The goblin said he'd take a message but that was two days ago."

  "He's a hobgoblin. Goblins are bigger and more likely to eat you." That wasn't true, but I was sick of mortals not bothering to learn the names of the creatures that spent so much time in our world.

  "Hobgoblin. Right, sorry. Anyway, I thought I'd update you on our progress. We've had more than one source confirm the perpetrator is a Talent."

  "So you think we're on the right track?" I broke away from our conversation to see to a customer. "Sorry, Joseph, I'm out of Mind-sharp. I have Awaken or Remembrance if either of those will do?"

  "It's hard to pin down fact from rumour but it stacks up so far." Greyson continued on as I wrapped a box and handed it over to Joseph, one of my few mortal customers.

  "Anything more on Opius?"

  "Yeah, we've heard his name mentioned." Greyson scribbled down a note. "If it's him, we've no chance of getting to him, even for questioning. Seems he's right up there in rank."

  "I'm going to try and get a look at him soon. Yes, I've got three boxes. No, that's it, I'm afraid." The door swung open again and I sighed. The stream of customers was never-ending today. "There's a gala coming up and Harrod said he can get me in."

  "You mentioned him before. That's Harrod... Passar, right? The Talent living in the city?"

  "That's him."

  "Ah. The two of you are...?" He left the question hanging.

  "That's four chips Nuft. Thanks." I turned back to Greyson. "Not a chance, I just met him. He came to me looking for information, why?"

  "Oh, just curious. Tell me about this gala."

  "There's an announcement coming, I'm not sure what. You know there's been a change in government? Right, so we're going to attend the gala, get a look at the guys face and leave."

  "You'll be safe there?"

  "Yes. Harrod will be there, and we'll be in public the whole time. No one would dare make a fuss at a gala event."

  Four more customers walked in and then another two. Greyson waved a farewell at me, not wanting to interrupt as he made his departure.

  The following days passed quickly. I worked my fingers to the bones boxing up teas, tracing spells on my special brews late into the night and early in the mornings. Days were filled with customer sales. I had been missed, apparently. Word had spread on the otherworld grapevine that I had returned, and even some of my less-frequent clientele seemed to be stocking up lest I disappear into the Other again. My supplies were barely keeping up with the demand. It was all the harder for not having Gibble. Normally, he would help with the boxing, tidy up and keep things in order. He'd sell when I needed him to and even his mere
presence would stop squabbles from breaking out, which was wont to happen when the exact wrong combination of Otherworld denizens were in the shop at the same time.

  Strangely, despite the busy atmosphere and more creatures packing the shop than normal, the peace wasn't broken. I found out why when I saw Tilke, a kobold with a deep hatred for gnomes on his way in, right when three gnomish customers were making their purchases.

  "Uh, guys? You'd better scram. There's a kobold coming down the street."

  The gnomes looked up in fright, and proceeded to stuff their purchases into a sack. They weren't fast enough. Tilke opened the door just as they reached it and I braced for a tussle. It would never get too violent but a creature of that size in a tiny shop like mine could wreak havoc just by sneezing. To my surprise, Tilke stepped back to let them pass, though he growled and snapped at their backs as they left.

  "Thank you," I said to him.

  "What, for not squashing tiny thieves in your shop?"

  "Yes. That." I'd never had a theft (that I knew of) but knew the little creatures had a reputation for light-fingeredness.

  "Ah. You are safe from the petty squabbles of our kind now, if not from thieving hands. The boggart has claimed you - very few would brave the wrath he would bring down if they were seen to be disturbing your peace."

  "How did you know about that?"

  "Such a claim is no small thing, and word travels fast in the Other."

  I sold him the teas he requested - two boxes for light mental enhancement (kobolds are quite a scholarly race) and one for language translation, one of my rarer blends. He paid his chips and left me to my busy shop.

  On Friday afternoon, just a week before the Talent gala, I was due back at Harrod's to meet a seamstress. We were cutting it a bit fine but he assured me she could have it ready on time. He'd made the reservation late enough that I wouldn't have to close the shop early. After shooing off the last dawdling shoppers, I locked the front door and raced upstairs to shower and change. I hoped the fitting wouldn't take long - I still had to box up more stock after I got back to account for the extra sales I'd been making.