Dark Demon Rising: Whisperings Paranormal Mystery book seven (23 page)

We
were not far from Seaside, where my friend Lynn had lived. Who occupied her
house now? What happened to her dog?

We
parked outside the address Rain gave us, a bed and breakfast in Pacific Grove on
the Monterey Peninsula. Reached by a long flight of concrete steps, the tall
gabled house perched on the hill across the road from the cliffs and pounding
ocean waves. Chris grumbled, saying there must be a parking pad for guests in
back of the house but Royal didn’t want to drive around to find it.

We
piled out and slogged up the steps, except no slogging for me, I clung to
Maggie and floated.

We
trooped inside a square, carpeted hall with green and pink cabbage-rose
wallpaper. A straight staircase rose to the next floor, an antique coat rack
with boot tray was against the left wall and a small table with an onyx clock
and hotel bell on the right wall. A door stood open to a large living room
furnished with period pieces.

Royal
hit the bell, which
tinged
softly.

A
door shut and a young woman tripped downstairs. She loosed her wheat-blond hair
from a ponytail with one hand and stripped off an apron with the other. Her
smile was as bright as her blue eyes. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

Royal
took a
Banks and Mortensen
business card from his jacket’s inside
pocket. “I’m Royal Mortensen. This is my associate, Christopher Plowman. We are
looking for a couple, a man and woman. We believe they are staying here.”

Her
brow puckered. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you whether or not they are. We protect
our guests’ confidentiality. Unless you have a warrant?”

“The
man is white-haired, the woman red-headed. They may be using the names
Baelfleur and Freyda.”

When
Rain gave us their description, he said you can’t miss them. I thought of how
the same could be said of me and Royal, him all copper and gold and me white
and silver. Individually, we stood out. Together, we were noticeably the
opposite ends of the spectrum.

A
wee change in the girl’s expression made my muscles tight. She knew them. Royal
saw it, too.

“I
advise you to tell us what you know,” he said. “They are fugitives.”

She
reacted to his stern tone with outrage. “I advise
you
to leave, before I
call the police.”

“Stop
waffling, Royal, old man.” Chris stepped between Royal and the woman.

He
leaned in with a winning smile and warm tone. “I’m sure you’re not trying to be
difficult, are you, my dear. Tell us, and we’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy.”

Did
he work his Gelpha charm on her? She looked into his eyes and her jaw sagged. He
took one of her hands and wrapped it in his, and that did it; her expression
turned dreamy, a little vacant.

The
Gelpha charm is an insidious seduction. I loathe it. But I had to ask myself:
if Chris gave me the choice of beguiling this girl to get the truth, or give up,
what would I decide?

“Where
are they?” he asked.

She
swallowed before speaking. “Carmel.”

“When
will they return?”

“They
bought a store and apartment combo. They moved there last week.”

“Ah,
I see. Can you give me directions?”

We
arrived in Carmel, strictly speaking Carmel by the Sea, and spent too long
looking for parking. Then we set out to find the store. I looked at the ground
passing inches beneath my feet. Oh to feel the paving and cobbles under my soles.

Real
estate in Carmel is pricey. Baelfleur must have paid a bundle to get a toe in.
Where did he get the money?
Fairy gold? Or he talked a leprechaun into
giving him the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?
I sniggered to
myself.

Looking
in shop windows, Maggie dropped behind the guys.

“This
isn’t a shopping expedition. Stop dawdling.”

“I’m
only looking. I haven’t been here before.”

My
patience disintegrated by the hour. Anxiety made me snippy with the last person
I should take my ill temper out on. “Can you keep your eyes peeled for Fairy
Fortune?”

The
store’s name made me smile, seeing as it belonged to a
real
fairy.

With
so many people milling around Maggie, I feared being walked through. I would
not feel anything different, nor would they, but the notion made me antsy. I
closed my eyes and clung to Maggie’s aura.

We
found the store in one of those charming side streets crammed with boutiques of
every ilk, cafés, and jewelry shops. An
Opening Soon
sign plastered the
window. The inside looked bare. A counter, two waist-high glass display cases,
glass shelves on the back wall, but no half-unpacked cartons or goods.

As
we peered in, a man wearing a loose, long-sleeved tunic of unbleached linen
with blue and mauve embroidery on the hem and loose cream-colored pants came
through a door in the back wall and braced one elbow on the counter as he
studied some papers. Tall as Royal, long white hair tied in a pony tail and
pale skin, his appearance startled me and I panicked.

“No!”

“What’s
wrong?”

“Back
away, now.”

Then
he turned to us and I saw his face, skin more cream-colored than pale like
mine, pale-blue eyes ringed in shadow deep as bruises, wide hollows beneath his
cheekbones. Lean but not thin; to my eyes he possessed an ethereal quality, a
fragility. Not the Gelpha Seer I mistook him for.

“Wait.
I was wrong.”

“Make
up your mind,” Maggie said irritably.

He
gazed through the window quizzically. Royal tried the handle. It opened and we
went inside fast.

The
guy drew himself up. “We are not open for business yet.”

Royal
got in his face. “We are looking for Baelfleur.”

He
blanched, stepped away from the counter into the doorway behind and said slowly,
as if he spoke through sand, “Nobody of that name is here.”

A
woman emerged from the back room’s interior and moved in close to him. Their dissimilarity
drew the eye. Tall and robust, her white T-shirt with short cap sleeves
revealed arms rounded with muscle and strained over a generous bosom. Her blue
jeans clung to muscular thighs. Where he was pale and wan, her lightly bronzed
complexion shone with vigor. Her bright, wiry, tousled hair, more copper than
red, contrasted with his white locks. Her cinnamon eyes narrowed. “What is it,
Bel?”

Rain
and River named the fairy Baelfleur but I swore Rain called him Bel at some
point. This man must be him. Disappointment made me weak as if my limbs turned
to water. I expected a small, unusual or outlandish man—well he
was
supposed to be a fairy—who could pass as a boy, not this tall gangling
specimen. I didn’t care what the wraiths said, this man couldn’t impersonate
Lawrence.

“Maggie,
we made a mistake coming here,” I told her. “Tell the guys we may as well
leave.”

“No,
wait,” she whispered back.

Bel
told the woman, “They came to the wrong address. They are leaving.”

Chris
spoke and his voice held an edge.  “I don’t believe so, old fellow.”

The
woman, who must be Freyda, moved to stand between us and Bel. “State your
business,” she said brusquely.

“Where
is he? We’re not leaving till we speak to him.”

Bel
and Baelfleur were one and the same but Chris and Royal had not made the
connection.

Her
brows peaked. “Who?”

“The
sióga prince, Baelfleur,” Royal said.

Her
eyes popped. She reached behind the counter and a second later we stared down a
shotgun’s twin barrels. “Get out. Now!”

Royal
held up his palms in a gesture meant to placate. “Please. We mean no harm. Rain
and River sent us. It is a matter of life and death and they think Baelfleur
can help us.”

A
touch on Freyda’s arm moved her aside. “Freyda,” Bel said, “lock the door.”

“We
left Downside behind us. That life is finished.” Freyda glared at us. “We want
nothing to do with you!”

“Quick
now. Before someone comes in,” Bel said.

She
froze while anger and dread fought on her face. But she placed the shotgun on
the counter, strode around it, across the store to the door and locked it.

“I
am Baelfleur. Come.” Bel gestured at the room behind him.

Chris’
and Royal’s faces expressed the frustration I felt. Why on Earth did the
wraiths send us to this man?

“Please
accept my apologies for distressing you both,” Royal said. “We made a mistake.
You cannot help us.”

“You
were Downside and must have come a fair distance to find me. Your need must be
great for Rain and River to give you my true name. Please.” Bel held his hand
toward the door again.

He
walked away, leaving Freyda standing at the doorway looking furious. Royal and
Chris lingered as they tried to decide whether to follow or quit the store.

“We’ve
come this far,” Chris said.

We
passed through a small stockroom where a staircase climbed to the next floor,
through another door to a large bright room with yellow walls and white
woodwork, a kitchen against one wall, an oak table and chairs in the center. A
metal bench and machinery occupied the far end. Sunlight shone through the
windows on healthy houseplants and potted herbs which lined the ledges.

Jewelry
spread over one end of the kitchen table: exquisite, complex, delicate silver
settings captured wafer thin stones, lacquered and glossy, some with a hint of
iridescent color making them resemble abalone. Works of art made into
necklaces, pendants, earrings and brooches.

“This
stuff is incredible,” Maggie said in a soft, awed voice.

Bel
said, “Wood and silver. Some I brought from Downside. Others I reproduced using
driftwood.”

Fairy
jewelry? It would sell like crazy.

Bel
asked us to sit but nobody did.

Freyda
stormed into the room. “Whatever you want of us, I won’t have it.” She swung on
Bel. “Do you hear me?”

He
went to her, held her shoulders and spoke gently in her ear. “Dearest, let us
at least listen to them.”

She
stood stiff as an upright board, then sagged limply as if giving up the fight.
Bel took her hand and led her to a chair. After she seated herself, he stood
behind her.

Royal
and Chris took turns telling our story while Maggie held her tongue.

Bel
put his hands on Freyda’s shoulders again and dropped his head at the end of
the tale. Freyda placed one hand on his. All was silence apart from the sweet music
from birds outside the window.

He
finally met Royal’s eyes. “This woman, her spirit is with us now?”

Royal
replied, “She is. Maggie speaks for her.”

“You
love her very much.”

A
lump settled in my throat.

“I
do,” Royal said simply.

“Bel,”
Freyda said, “their troubles sadden me, but you can’t consider this. Your
mother’s spies are everywhere.”

Bel
spoke throatily. “But Rain sent them and I owe her and River my life, and your
happiness. They risked so much for us. Although they fulfilled the terms of
their contract, what they did was a betrayal my mother will neither forgive nor
forget.”

“You’re
right, of course.” Freyda released his hand. “But I fear for you.”

He
squeezed her shoulders. “I will be careful.”

“You?”
She grasped his hand again. “Don’t think of leaving me behind, Bel.”

“I
must. You know I can move through Downside all but unseen, but you, my lovely
Freyda, stand out for what you are, a red-headed Northerner. What if word gets
back to your family? And from what these good people say, you cannot help us
when we see this man and must not try, lest you endanger the undertaking. Better
you wait for me here than Downside, where I will carry fear for you in my
breast.”

She
flung his hand away. “Why must you always be right? But I warn you, Bel, if
you’re not back tomorrow I’m coming for you.”

He
let her go and moved to take a vacant chair. “The boy puts in an appearance. Rain
and River will take care of Shan. I trust them to do so.”

He
hesitated, studying his hands flat on the table. He caught Royal’s eyes. “Rain
and River told you why they sent you to me?”

“They
said you can impersonate Lawrence.”

“And
do you believe I can?”

Royal
frowned slightly. “In that place, anything seemed possible. But now, here. . .
. You are a grown man, how can you masquerade as a twelve-year-old boy?”

Bel
watched him closely. “Freyda is human and humans never change, and in this
place I pass for human. But I am a different person Downside. I am sióga, the Fair
Folk, the Elder Race. Magic is the fabric of my life. And beyond that, I have a
gift with which few sióga are blessed. I can warp light and shadow so I am
another man to those who look at me. I can also become unseen, and in this way
I left Downside to escape those who wished to use me, through The Station with
Freyda, yet none saw me. I can imitate the boy, but there is no point in taking
this further unless you trust I can do it.”

“Show
us,” said Chris.

Bel’s
lip ticked up on one side. “I cannot. I have no magic here.”

He
watched Royal’s face. “I know how you feel. You were sent to ask the help of a
man who gives you an outrageous tale he cannot prove. What happens next is up
to you. Trust me and I will go with you back to Downside. If you do not trust
me, well and good, we say farewell and you leave my shop.”

Royal
pondered and silence filled the room. Did he run what he heard on the tape
through his mind? Did he say to himself,
my voice, it must be true.
Or
did he come up with a dozen over the top reasons it wasn’t?

“Trust?”
he said eventually. “Desperation sent us to Angelina. Hope took us to the
wraiths. Belief, though tenuous, brought us here.” He took in a deep breath and
exhaled through his nose. “Yes. I trust you.”

Such
a leap of faith is not taken lightly. He made me
so
proud of him.

“You
can look like Lawrence, though you haven’t seen him?” Chris asked.

“I
need an image of his likeness.”

Oops,
we didn’t think of that. And we couldn’t take Bel into Bel-Athaer and present
him to Lawrence. Our plan died before it began.

Except
. . . . “Do your thing, Maggie,” I told her.

She
nodded and closed her eyes. I smiled, because since leaving Downside she’d
forgotten to do it most of the time, leaving Royal and Chris to guess when she
spoke or when I spoke.

“Royal,
I still have the old file on Lawrence and his school picture is in it. But he’s
six years older now.”

“Have
you seen him recently?” Bel asked. “I can begin with the photograph and work
from there.”

“It
need only be an approximation,” Chris said. “I doubt Shan has seen Lawrence in
years. In fact he may never have seen him.”

Hope
leached some darkness from Royal’s eyes, they were less haunted and his shoulders
squared. Chris watched Bel expectantly. Freyda sustained a dour look. And
Maggie kept her eyes shut.

“We
must return to Clarion and get Tiff’s body,” Royal said. He turned his
attention to Bel. “I can get the photo at the same time.”

“Portals
to Downside exist in many big cities but not in smaller communities so I doubt
you can reach The Station from Clarion. I only know the San Francisco entrance
to Downside. I must not be seen entering Downside so cannot go there and ask to
be admitted. But I can get through The Station unnoticed with you if you return
there. And when you leave, you pause long enough to not arouse suspicion while
I walk the bridge for we cannot walk it together to difference destination. You
can hold a picture of Clarion in your mind and go there, I will return to San
Francisco.”

Mystified,
Chris, Royal and Maggie stared with no idea what he was talking about. Me,
neither.

“I’m
sorry,” Chris said a moment later, accompanied by a puzzled frown. “You’ve lost
us, my good fellow.”

Baelfleur
and Freyda glanced at each other. “They don’t know how it works,” Freyda said.

“Ah.”
Baelfleur’s face cleared. “The bridge to Downside was not explained to you. So.
I hope I do not add to your confusion. There are a number of entrances, all in
major cities, and all lead to The Station. They are permanent. But those
leaving Downside can go to
any
Upside location by fixing an accurate
picture of it in their mind as they cross the bridge.”

“The
dark part?” from Maggie.

“Yes,
the place between, the bridge.” He rubbed his nape with one hand. “However,
they are temporary exit portals. You must use one of the permanent entrances to
return to Downside.”

“We
didn’t picture anything when we came back but we ended up where we thought we
should be, Manhattan.”

“Because
you did not fix a destination in your mind, you returned to where you entered
Downside.”

“Simply
put,” Chris interrupted, “you can exit Downside to any location you choose, but
it won’t let you back in the same place?”