Bubbles and Troubles (6 page)

Brock’s mouth quirked devilishly. “I’d much rather your legs be shaking from a different sort of up and down movement, but, with luck, we can work that out later today.”

Carmen’s cheeks flamed with embarrassed excitement. A little up-down movement with Brock sounded like the perfect reward for this hike, if, that is, she survived the Fair Folk family interview. She trailed Brock for another few yards before the woods opened up into an enormous clearing.

Carmen looked up, shook her head, squinted and looked again. “A castle? In the middle of the woods? For real, is this another glamour, Brock?”

“Nope,” he assured her. “This is the real deal. Welcome to Castle Speranza, Carmen.” Carmen’s eyes drank in the elegant limestone structure. Four conical-roofed towers graced each corner of the three-storey castle. Narrow arched windows, largest on the bottom floor and smallest on top, dotted the grey stone walls. The woods encroached close to the castle’s lawn, which was more a great patch of wild violets than an actual grassy lawn. Carmen caught the glimmer of a wide pond that extended beyond the left wall of the structure, complete with pink water lilies. She smiled to see a mama wood duck, with six little masked ducklings in tow, waddle past her feet and towards the sparkling expanse of water behind the castle.

Paloma emerged from the woods flanked by two men. Carmen could see a slight family resemblance between the brothers, but they were polar opposites in appearance. Paloma halted, scowling, and crossed her arms.

“Carmen,” Brock said, “allow me to introduce my other siblings. This is Lowell, my older brother.” He gestured towards a solidly built man with a head full of shaggy raven-black hair and a heavy jaw dotted with stubble. He looked, Carmen decided, an awful lot like his father, minus the beard and with extra snarl.

Carmen forced a weak smile and held her hand out for a handshake. Lowell flicked his eyes at her outstretched palm and glowered. “Carmen, huh?” he growled. Coffee-brown eyes squinted beneath his full black eyebrows. “I hope you enjoy your visit to Castle Speranza, Carmen,” he grumbled, “because it’s going to be the last thing you remember.” Lowell flexed his fingers and balled them into fists.

“Now, now, Lowell, no need to get all gloom and doom on us.” Brock chuckled uncomfortably. “We’re just talking here. I’m sure that once you understand what Carmen has to offer, you’ll be grateful she’s here.”

Carmen tried to squash the panic rising in her throat. What the hell had Brock got her into?

“And Carmen, this is my younger brother, Korbin,” Brock continued. Korbin was tall, thin, and graceful-looking. Above clear green eyes, he sported a mane of fine, white-blond hair. Korbin gave Carmen a soft smile and reached for a handshake. His grip felt warm and strong in her hand.

“Hi, Carmen,” Korbin said. “Don’t let Lowell and Paloma scare you. I’m sure Brock wouldn’t have brought you here without good reason.” Lowell cut a fierce glare at Korbin, who coloured slightly, but held his gaze.

Brock’s father opened the front door of the castle. “All here?” he asked in a deep voice. “Good. Come in, all of you.” He disappeared into the imposing structure. Brock squeezed Carmen’s hand, now slippery with anxious sweat, and led her inside after Paloma.

Chapter Seven

Even with the fear of death or stump-transformation looming, Carmen was dazzled by Castle Speranza’s interior. It was opulent, gorgeous, gleaming—everything a fairy tale castle should be. Oriental rugs covered rich wood floors and enormous crystal chandeliers glittered overhead.
How in the world did they get electricity out here?
Carmen wondered. Ornately carved furniture, much of it marble-topped, graced every part of the home she could see, and heavy gilt mirrors hung on the walls. Carmen craned her neck to see the fabulous double staircase with its lavish wrought iron balusters. She could almost make out the design in the jewel-toned stained glass window at the landing—

“A-hem!” Paloma cleared her throat abruptly. She stood in the wide doorway to the library in front of soaring walls of leather bound books and wheeled library ladders. Paloma made a sweeping come-inside gesture and said, in a voice dripping with scorn, “If you’re quite done gaping, would you please grace us with your company? It’s not like we have anything else to do today, and, after all, we’ve been expecting you. Oh, wait!” Paloma added, appearing to enjoy delivering her barbed words. “We didn’t expect you at all, did we? And we don’t actually want you here, either.”

“Enough!” Gavin bellowed from his great armchair at the oval library table. “Brock, please direct your friend to a seat.” Brock gave Carmen’s hand one more squeeze and showed her to a red velvet padded chair. Paloma took the chair to Gavin’s left, and Lowell was already seated at his right. Casting her eyes at Paloma, then Gavin, then Lowell, Carmen saw shades of scorn, haughtiness, and animosity. At least Korbin seemed friendly, Carmen noted. He smiled at her as she and Brock sat down.

An expectant silence fell over the room. Gavin spoke first. “Brock, you know as well as any of us that we do not bring mortals into Prescott Woods. We do not reveal our true natures, along with those of other magical creatures, to humans, even on those rare occasions when we have a dalliance with a mortal.” Lowell’s cheeks reddened and he looked down at his lap. “Above all”—Gavin’s voice grew angrier—“we do not bring mortals to Castle Speranza.” Brock studied his clasped hands. “These laws are not only for your own safety, they are for the safety of every magical creature in these woods.” He fixed his soft grey eyes on Brock and waited for his reply. “Explain yourself, son.”

Brock took Carmen’s hand underneath the table. He smiled at her, sapphire eyes gleaming then turned to Gavin. “Carmen knows about Calvin Prescott’s plans for the woods,” he told his father. “She cares about the woods, and she cares about Charade. She doesn’t want to see the trees get mowed down and replaced by a bunch of mansions and a horde of new residents.”

“Humph,” Lowell grunted. “And so what? I’m sure there are plenty of Charade residents who feel the same way.”

“Yes, well, Carmen is also a lawyer,” Brock continued. “She worked in a posh firm in Chicago before relocating to Charade, and she still practises law. She could help us find a way to legally stop Calvin Prescott from selling the land.”

“Pah!” Paloma spat. “We don’t need a legal way to stop him! I’ve got a way that’s a lot simpler and faster, and it involves a switchblade and one quick slice.” Her black eyes glittered.

Gavin raised one hand for silence. “Continue, Brock.”

“Well, Carmen has a lot of friends in Charade who might help us, too,” he said.

“Help us what?” Lowell laughed. “Argue with Old Man Prescott that trees are worth more than money to him? I say we let them try to take a single tree in Prescott Woods down. They’ll rue the day, I promise you.” Lowell cracked his knuckles. “Between us and the trolls and the gnomes, not to mention the tree spirits, who’ll be fighting for their lives, we’ll make anyone wielding a chain saw wish he’d never woken up that day.”

“We don’t have to fight!” Korbin interjected. “We could let them take part of the woods, just the outside part, and leave the interior to us. The tree spirits only live in the interior, you know. We could let them have a good third of the woods, with the understanding that they’ll never touch the rest of it.”

“Bah!” Gavin shouted and banged his fist on the table. “You know the greed of mortals, son! They would never be content with just a piece of Prescott Woods. Once we give way one little bit, they will never rest until the entire woods are gone and we are homeless and as good as dead.”

“If I may speak,” Carmen offered hesitantly, “since it is, after all, my own fate you’re trying to determine, I have to say that I agree with Gavin. If a partial development of Prescott Woods is successful, Calvin Prescott will feel a great deal of pressure to sell the rest of it.”

Gavin nodded and gestured for Carmen to continue. “With respect, Paloma,” she went on, “I think that killing Calvin Prescott will hardly eliminate the problem of the proposed development. As far as anyone in town knows, Calvin Prescott has no close relatives. If his will dictates that his property will go to a distant cousin or to a charity, it’s quite likely that the beneficiary will want to see the proposed development to its completion and reap the financial rewards. Someone who doesn’t even live in Charade would be even more likely to value money over trees.”

Paloma shot eye daggers at Carmen in reply.

“And Lowell, while I certainly understand your frustration, I feel that an assault on the workers will also not give you the result you want. If there appear to be wild animals or even spirits in the woods, I feel confident that investigations will follow, one after the other, until the forest yields up all its secrets. Of course, if every investigator is attacked, the property owner, be it Calvin Prescott or whoever he wants to sell the land to, will need to resort to drastic measures to clear the trees. Fire, maybe, or perhaps a bunch of guys with guns and grenades. Who knows? They’re not going to let a wood full of dangerous and mysterious creatures just sit there, though.”

Lowell’s bushy black eyebrows knotted over his warm brown eyes.

“I do feel, however, that we can save Prescott Woods from destruction. I think the path starts with Calvin Prescott. Perhaps it ends with a liberal dose of Fair Folk glamour, who knows? I can take care of any legal entanglements as well as enlisting the aid of news media, if it comes to that. I’m sure the evening news would love to show a bunch of small-town protestors whose way of life is threatened by big-money developers.”

Gavin nodded. “Your plan is to trick Calvin Prescott in some manner to leave the woods as is, even though he knows, as do we all, that his family is honour-bound to keep Prescott Woods intact regardless?”

“I suppose,” said Carmen. “But I can also look at the legal ramifications here, including quality of life for Charade residents and zoning, to try to stop him.”

“I see.” He leant back in his chair. “Well, I think we’ve heard quite enough. I, for one, am unconvinced that glamour is the answer here. I feel that Lowell’s idea of repelling the construction crew by any means necessary is the course of action that is most likely to lead to success, and that you, Carmen, are both unwelcome and unnecessary. Lowell, are you in agreement?”

Lowell nodded grimly. “I am.”

“And you, Paloma?” Gavin turned to his fiery-haired daughter.

“Oh, yes, Father,” Paloma agreed, “we hardly need this mortal woman here at Castle Speranza. Although I may still steal into Old Man Prescott’s house just to see if a terrible and fatal accident has occurred”—she smiled wickedly—“or is about to occur.”

Brock began to sputter in protest, but Gavin raised his hand to silence him. “I’m sure we all know your opinions on the matter, Brock,” he stated. “Korbin? How do you weigh in, son?”

Korbin coughed and looked around the table at Paloma, Gavin, Lowell, Brock, and, finally, Carmen. “I think Carmen’s right,” he said at last. “I don’t want Prescott Woods to be cut down, any of it. I think that using a glamour on Old Man Prescott is worth a shot. If that fails, perhaps Carmen’s legal expertise can serve us.”

“That’s it, then,” Gavin stated with finality. “Lowell, Paloma and myself are opposed to Carmen’s presence and aid. Brock and Korbin are in favour of it.” His voice took on the gravity of an executioner. “As I said before, Brock, this will be the end of it. Lowell, please ensure that Carmen never leaves these woods and never remembers anything about her life prior to today.”

The colour drained from Brock’s face. “Father, no! I brought her here and told her she’d be safe. Please, you must reconsider!”

“You were wrong to do so,” Lowell said, “though I doubt that you’ll ever make this mistake again. You must keep your dalliances with mortals in their world, and leave them behind before you come home. You know that, Brock, as do Paloma, Korbin and I.”

Lowell walked to Carmen’s chair and grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip. “Come with me,” he demanded.

Carmen was dizzy with terror. “No, no, you can’t do this!” she shouted. “I can really help you!” Lowell lifted her to her feet. “If I don’t go home, then who will teach my belly-dancing classes? Who will feed Dax, my Labrador?” Lowell started to pull her towards the library door. “And who will feed my chickens?” Carmen sobbed. “They’ll all starve without me.”

“Wait just a minute!” shouted Paloma. “Did you say chickens?” Carmen nodded miserably.

“Is this where you’ve been getting those eggs?” Paloma asked Brock. He gave his affirmation. “Well, then,” Paloma declared, “I change my vote, Father.”

“What’s this?” Gavin blustered. “You’re changing your vote because she owns chickens?” His broad face grew red with anger.

“I’m changing my vote,” she clarified, “because her chickens lay fabulous eggs, Father, and we don’t have any chickens here. Were Carmen to relocate to Castle Speranza and bring her fowl with her, I feel that she would be a lovely addition to our home.”

Gavin stared at her in incredulity.

“And who knows,” Paloma added, “maybe she can figure out a way to trick Old Man Prescott into living up to his family’s side of the bargain. Gaia knows I don’t care about him,” she snorted, “but I would hate for any of us to be hurt defending Prescott Woods.”

Lowell’s grip loosened on Carmen’s upper arm. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” he muttered, “but, Father, you know I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“What?” Gavin bellowed. “Are you changing your vote because she has a dog?”

Lowell suddenly expressed a great interest in his shoes.

“And what about you, Korbin?” grumbled Gavin. “Are you going to tell me you’ve always had a hankering to take belly dancing lessons?”

Korbin grinned. “None for me, Father,” he answered, “but you never know, perhaps even those skills will come in handy.”

“Well then,” Gavin boomed. He stood, massive and furious. “I see that I am outvoted by every one of my children. Keep her here, then, Brock, for now. Until I am convinced of her loyalty and discretion, she is not to leave this place. Am I understood?”