It was a little affair, a quiet party - but it was going to be perfect.
Duke Cambius ran down his checklist again as the revelers began to arrive. The boggans doing the catering had set up and were in attendance, the satyr musicians were tuned up and sweetly playing Bach, the troll guards were most excellently attired and discretely placed, and the pookas (selected for their good sense), were already entertaining the guests with their antics.
Yes. This would be another social occasion to remember.
"Duke Cambius," a sidhe lady bowed to him. "Are those new uniforms on your guards?"
"Why, yes, Lady Elsman," he nodded back. "My boggans did quite a nice job, don't you think? Under my guidance, of course."
"They are quite elegant. It's so nice to have the help looking good for a change."
He passed through the small crowd collecting compliments as he went. He dropped a word here, a name there; all to lift his standing amongst his peers.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lord Arman enter, arrayed in mourning clothes.
This would be tricky. The Duke eased over to him. "Lord Arman, it grieved me sore to hear of the death of your son."
The other sidhe nodded gravely at him. "He needn't had died if more of us had been in the battle," he said with a purposeful stare.
"My dear lord," Cambius soothed, "I am no warrior. My presence would have been a more of a hindrance than a help."
Arman continued his glare. "You speak sooth. I fear your word play more than your swordplay. But a single word from you would have unleashed a flood of sidhe warriors onto the field. Especially when we needed them."
"At the Queen's request I stood in reserve. It is a pity that word did not reach me in time," he said sincerely.
"Yes, how unfortunate," Arman said darkly.
"In truth, I have reconsidered my former opinion of this little conflict..."
"How timely of you to change your opinion," the other sidhe interrupted. "Will you now be supporting our efforts?"
"You cannot fault me for being cautious," Duke Cambius replied. "These are dangerous allies that the Queen has allied herself with. But I cannot debate the results."
A commotion caught his attention. "Excuse me."
He walked away, confident that his balanced response would keep his position vague enough to offend no one.
A few steps took him to the source of the disturbance. Two pookas circled Miguel de Majorca ap Gwydion and were barking at him.
"We'll save you!" the pookas sang out. "We're Good Dogs! We'll protect you from that nasty Troll!"
A few of his guest chuckled up their sleeves while Miguel fumed. The Duke came up to the pookas and cleared his throat. They needed no other hint and made haste to start their juggling act.
"Damn them!" Miguel cursed quietly. "Damn them all!"
"The pookas or the Garou who most likely saved your life?" Duke asked.
Gwydion turned an angry face towards the Duke. "I could have handled that troll."
"Oh yes, and a bar full of mages, commoners with weapons, and wild animals," the Duke said mildly.
"I was defending you!"
"And what a fine job you made of it," Cambius said with a tone like a slap in the face.
The other sidhe paled.
"Your bad-mouthing Her Majesty's Chancellor in a room full of commoners was inappropriate. We are sidhe. We don't do things like that. You made a fool of yourself and," he lowered his voice and hissed, "Made me look like a coward."
"But my Duke! That... bastard vixen has stolen the place that you deserve!" Miguel sputtered.
Duke raised his hand and his voice. "Please do not speak of the rumors of the Chancellor's questionable lineage in my presence. I will not hear another word spoken against Lady Andrea. Although she is a mere commoner she has done much for this kingdom. In fact, I worry about her."
The Duke could almost hear the eyebrows being raised across the room.
"Think of it," he continued, "A pooka as Chancellor. The strain must be incredible. Especially at such a dangerous time! And the creatures she has surrounded herself with? Mad magicians and Garou? Why, any sane person would be afraid for their life! Just think, at any moment one of those magicians could have their spell or one of their enchanted devices fail, or one of the werewolves (unstable creatures in the best of times) could drop into a killing frenzy! I fear that someday we may learn of her untimely and unfortunate death at the very hands of these 'allies' of hers." He shook his head. "A terrible thing. No. I worry about her health both physically and mentally."
Off to one side two sidhe huddled briefly. "Do you think he knows?"
"No; and he never should. We work alone on this."
Jessie's cell phone rang, playing a simple melody. She grinned from ear to ear as she pulled it out of her pocket.
Lorraine frowned at her. "Another phone call?" she asked as they stood in Andrea's office at the hospital. "That's the sixth today."
"Yeah!" Jessie opened it up and barked into it. She giggled as someone at the other end barked back. She hung up and fiddled with the settings. A moment later a different melody sang out and she answered by again barking into the phone.
"Are you ever going to stop playing with that?" the sidhe asked.
"When Ah run out of tunes, maybe," the Bone Gnawer admitted. "But Maria showed me how to download more!"
Lorraine grit her teeth. "I never thought a lupus would take to any type of technology so quickly."
"Hey! It's jest like all the scent messages we leave each other." She looked conspiratorial at Lorraine and leaned closer. "Ya know what they mostly say?" she whispered.
Lorraine looked worried. "No. What?"
" 'HI!' " The Ragabash grinned and her body gently rocked back and forth as if she were wagging a broad tail.
Andrea looked up from her paperwork and laughed. "Looks like she ungot you again."
"But she takes it so well!" Jessie remarked.
Andrea shook a finger at her. "You should not not take the sidhe's natural ability to always look ungood as a challenge."
"If Ah don't get her ta smile at least once a day Ah'm lying down on mah job!" Jessie quipped.
"You've exceeded your quota today," Lorraine replied with a smile. She looked at her watch. "It's almost six. We'd best leave if we're going to make that meeting."
Andrea sighed. "Would someone remind me why I did not agreed to go on the fund committee for the new extension?"
"Because you're not good at it?" Jessie suggested she started to leave. Andrea chuckled and stepped behind her.
"Don't you go all pooka on me," Lorraine grinned, taking up the rear.
A car was waiting for them as they came out of the hospital. They drove downtown to a large office building.
Jessie looked up the glass facade. "Heap big money?"
Dame Lorraine nodded. "Yes. Best if you stay outside the office. Fewer people will make it easier for the presentation."
A man walking a dog passed by and Jessie gave the dog an appreciative look.
"Someone you don't know, Jessie?" asked Andrea.
"Hmmmm. Not yet," she drawled.
Lorraine poked her in the ribs. "Stay alert."
"The world needs more lerts!" Andrea and Jessie chorused.
People were still leaving the office building as they entered. A few eyebrows were raised at Jessie in her baggy jeans. Although Andrea in a suit coat and Lorraine in her trench coat might have blended into the suit and tie environment. Jessie definitely looked the odd person out.
They waited at the main elevator. Andrea groomed herself in the reflective steel doors of the elevator.
"Badge," Lorraine whispered.
Andrea hurriedly took off her hospital ID. "Unthanks."
They went up to the seventeenth floor. Broad hallways and small elegant touches showed this was where the offices of the mighty were located.
Jessie sniffed and gave a thumbs up.
"The president's office is just up the hall," Lorraine said.
"Ah'll keep an eye out and mah nose to the ground," Jessie said and took a seat by the elevators. The two fae walked the short distance down the hall to their meeting.
Jonathan Renair drove his car into the building basement parking lot. He had with him another sidhe, Samuel Enwari, and Linda Malley - a Black Spiral Dancer.
"Just like home," Linda sighed as she looked at the sterile concrete.
The two sidhe saluted each other. "For the Dream."
The Dancer sneered. "Yeah, yeah. Come on, let's do this."
"No, we wait," Jonathan said. "Wait until the dog is neutralized."
"A Ragabash?" Linda snorted. "I could take her."
"Only if you have to," Jonathan lectured. "Andrea is the target. Take out that traitor Lorraine too. Anybody else was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
She smiled. "All right." Her face became dark. "And you'd better hold up your end to the deal."
"We're sidhe. We'll keep our end of the deal. Just kill the pooka and the traitor. And be quick about it."
Samuel left the car and walked into the building.
Jonathan opened a briefcase and pulled out a small bowl. He poured in some rain water and muttered softly. "Let's watch Samuel do his work."
Jessie sat in the chair in quiet watchfulness. Her natural sensitivity to Wyrm activity noted little evidence of it. Things had been very quiet since the Beantown Smackdown. She smiled. It smelled good.
The elevator door opened and man came towards her. There was something different about him. He seemed to shine a little bit, like Lorraine.
"Excuse me," he with a bright and friendly smile. "May I sit here?"
"It's a free country," Jessie said and returned the smile. She glanced both ways and shrugged. "Help yerself."
She sat and considered how much nicer everything was, how clean and free of Wyrm taint. Yes, everything was going to be fine. She could relax and not worry. Not worry at all.
Jonathan nodded and passed a hand over the bowl. "He's got her. Let's go."
He dumped the water and packed away the bowl. The sidhe and the Dancer went the basement elevator. Dressed in proper suit clothes and carrying brief cases, they were virtually indistinguishable from the office clones who were leaving for the day.
They got off at the seventeenth floor. Samuel was sitting next to a thin woman in a denim jacket, whispering quietly to her. The woman gazed blankly into space with a soft, stupid grin on her face.
"I could kill her now," Linda growled.
"No, no! You'd leave claw marks." He glanced up and down the halls to make sure they were not observed. "Watch this."
Jonathan took a few leaves out of his pocket and crumpled them. Murmuring softly, he scattered them around the other sidhe and the Garou. The pair vanished from view.
"Oh, I like that," Linda grinned.
"Then you'll like this better."
He produced a picture of Jessie cut from a promotional poster. Two long, silken threads were attached to it. He tied the threads together while chanting quietly and draped it over her. "Now when Andrea walks out she'll look at you but see her."
The Dancer looked down at herself and discovered she was dressed in denim. "Hey! Look at me! I'm a Bone Gnawer."
"Shhhhhh! Keep it quiet. When you step into the elevator with them... "
"It's shredding time," the Dancer grinned.
Cocooned in illusion, Jessie sat calmly waiting for Andrea and Lorraine. Everything was going fine. Nothing to worry about.
She noted that someone coming out of the elevator wasn't quite right but it was okay, nothing to worry about.
But she smelled really bad. Something twisted inside her in reaction to something unnatural - Wrong - Wrym.
But it wasn't her problem. Everything was fine. She was just sitting listening to someone making polite chit-chat...
And she could smell the sharp scent of someone sweating from strain or fear.
What was he afraid of? Could it be the WYRM creature that had just sat down nearby?
Not that it was her problem. Nope. Everything was fine.
But anything Wyrmy was her business. Something was wrong. Big wrong.
Her cell phone went off, playing a happy melody.
But there was no need to answer it. Nope. No need at all. They'd call back. Sitting in her chair she nodded and grinned at the person murmuring at her. She knew they'd call back. They were calling to warn her about something they'd found. And if she didn't answer after four rings, they knew something was wrong. Wrong-wrong.
It dawned on her that someone was trying to trick her.
Her hands became talons and she slashed at the whispering voice. A man screamed and the world snapped back into focus. With her claws dripping with blood she turned away from the man and towards the disturbance she'd felt deep in the core of her being.
She faced a visual duplicate of herself. But on every other level the doppelganger failed to replicate her.
"I can do that too," evil Jessie said, growing talons.
She grappled with her twin and pulled her down the hallway. They both shifted form and snapped and clawed each other. But Jessie kept a tight grip and they both kept going rolling the hall. Together they hit the reflective steel doors of the elevator and Jessie pulled the Dancer into the Umbra.
At the sound of screams from the hallway Lorraine jumped up. A hand went into her pocket and grasped the gun within. She cracked opened the door and scanned the hallway. A pair of Garou were rolling and brawling towards the elevator. They hit the closed doors and vanished.
The howling came from a man with his hands over his face. Blood dripped out between his fingers. Another man was leading him towards the other elevator. She curled her lip. She didn't know them personally but she could see their fae natures.
She closed the door, got out her cell phone and hit the speed dial.
Jessie and Linda tumbled down five floors until they hit the roof of the elevator. They both landed badly. Jessie howled but she kept her grip on the Spiral Dancer.
Linda raked one of Jessie's arms and sliced her down the side. Jessie kneed the Dancer and then gave her a muzzle full of elbow. Jessie was holding her own but felt herself weakening. She bit down on her opponent's shoulder and held on.
Another claw raked her face but she just locked her jaw on the Dancer's neck. All she had to do was keep the creature busy until...
Another Garou landed on the elevator. Even in the Umbra the cables shrieked at the shock. Now two to one, the odds turned quickly against the Spiral Dancer.
The doors opened to the dark basement parking lot. Jonathan held Samuel up. "Come on, we'll get you to a hospital."
Samuel sagged and lapsed into unconsciousness. His hands fell away from his face and flaps of skin drooped off his skull.
"Shit!" Jonathan laid his fellow sidhe on the parking lot floor and folded the skin back on. He took off his silk tie and wrapped his friend's face. Jonathan scooped up Samuel and staggered towards the car. Most of the people had left the building so the lot was mostly deserted but he heard someone running this way.
A middle-aged man in work clothes came towards him. "My God! What happened?"
"Some crazy woman with a knife!" Jonathan said. "Help me get him to the car; it'll be faster than waiting for an ambulance."
"Yeah, sure! Let me help you... I can handle him." He took Samuel from him.
But they got to the car there was a dirty mongrel waiting for them. It growled at them.
"Don't think you're going anywhere," the workman said.
Jonathan looked up and saw more dogs surrounding them.
Lorraine had changed the phone to vibrate so as not to further disturb the meeting. They had just gotten back to business after her reassurance that the disturbance outside was being handled. Meanwhile, her calls had raised an alarm and from all around Boston fae were racing to the building to defend their Chancellor.
For the third time in as many minutes she flipped the phone open.
"It's Jessie," a familiar voice drawled. "Threat level Ernie."
Condition Yellow - elevated. "What's going on?" Lorraine whispered.
"Ah'm here with buildin' security. Some crazy with daggers. Danced around. Tricky. They're lookin' fer her, but Ah don't think they'll find her. Meet ya by the elevator."
Lorraine nodded. Parsing the code words and judging the satisfied tone of Jessie's tone of voice no one would ever find the Black Spiral Dancer again.
Andrea shot a worried look at the sidhe and Lorraine gave her a reassuring smile.
A few minutes later the two fae exited the executive's office.
"I did not do it," Andrea whispered. She looked drained after suppressing her pooka nature for so long. "I ungot the funding."
Lorraine patted her shoulder. Jessie stood grinning at the end of the hall. Her face had a bandage on it and her denim coat was slashed.
Lorraine stopped briefly to examine the crushed leaves on the floor.
Jessie extended a crumpled image of herself. "It was wearin' this. They musta taken it from one of our promotional posters. It looked like me."
Andrea paled.
Lorraine scowled. "Someone will pay for this," she said intensely.
Outside several police cars blocked the street. Uniformed and plainclothes police officers swarmed the area.
Captain Birgitta Fridriksdottir impatiently stood beside a man in workman's clothes Beside him were two large dogs. She saw the trio coming and came to attention.
Jessie waved. "Hey Captain! Nice ta see the women and men in blue. Ah see you've met Jordan - Philodox of the Street Sweepers." She knelt and scratched the two dogs. "And company."
"Yes," the troll said dryly. She turned to Andrea, "Ma'am, everything seems to be clear. But there's a slight problem. There are prisoners."
"We found them first," Jordan said, polishing his nails. "One's badly damaged but the other's only bruised."
Andrea and Lorraine turned to Jessie. "What do you not know about this?" the pooka asked.
"Jest a little extra security," Jessie said with a shrug.
"The phone calls," Lorraine said with a nod. "Of course. But you should have let us know."
"Naw. The best security is invisible," Jessie grinned broadly.
Birgitta cleared her throat. "The prisoners are fae. We should have charge of them."
Jessie's face became dark. "They tricked me. Ah want ta trick them. Ah want to call a Ragabash Council and have at 'em."
Jordan visibly shuddered.
"If one needs medical attention we should have him," Birgitta continued.
"Naw. Ah claim him. First Blood," Jessie retorted.
Jordan shook his head. "You weren't there at the take down. I'll count your coup but that's all."
He studied the fae briefly. "In honor of the Lady Andrea, who has done so much for us, we relinquish all claims to the injured one."
Andrea nodded with approval. "Much unthanks. But I must not stress that since they are fae, they should not be turned over to us for fae justice."
Jordan blinked, confused at the disconnect between words and body language. He brightened. "Oh. Yeah. Pooka. Right."
Jessie pouted. "Ah want mah Council."
"Hush." Jordan looked at his packmates for a moment. The two dogs woofed significantly. "Tell you what," he said. "We'll release the other tomorrow morning." He stared purposefully at Jessie. "Alive and in one piece."
The Ragabash shrugged and the darkness was gone. "Okay," she responded cheerfully.
"Captain? Lady Andrea?"
"Agreed."
"Sounds unacceptable."
"Lorraine, you take the Lady home?" Jessie asked with a hopeful look on her face.
"Sure," the sidhe replied.
"Ah have a meeting to go to. Don't wait up."
Jessie strolled into the Rei Memorandi kitchen just as the pancakes were being rolled out.
"Hey everybody! Oh... pancakes. Yum."
Lorraine looked over her coffee at her. "Well?"
"Delivered intact and in one piece at a place agreed upon."
She reached into her damaged jacket and displayed a video cassette. "Full confession. It's funny what people say when they've had a few pints of cheap booze shoved down their throats."
She eased herself into a chair. "Seems they found the Dancer badly wounded jest after the Smackdown. That's when they got the bright idea: make it look like one of the 'allies' had killed Andrea. They hid it and promised it a safe ride outa town after it killed Andrea."
Jessie nodded to Andrea. "Ye havin' Garou as a bodyguard jest made it easier. Ah'd take all the blame."
Lorraine nodded. "Yes, and even if you were cleared, Andrea would still be dead."
"Not to mention the undamage to the Alliance," Andrea added.
The Ragabash reached again into her pocket. "Photos," she proclaimed and tossed them down on the table.
Andrea looked at one and passed a mouthful of tea through her nose.
Lorraine picked one out of the pile. "Oh my," she grinned and shook her head. "That just isn't his color. It is a nice dress, though."
Jessie sighed. "Ah jest can't make a sidhe look bad. So, we made him look good."
"How did you get him to sit still for this?"
"Drugs. Durin' the SmackDown we shut down some drug houses and pimp joints. Where's the photo showin' the tattoo on his butt?"
"Not here!" Andrea said between howls of laughter. "You're uncruel. What drugs did you not use?"
"A shot of horse to make him mellow. The hit of acid we put in his mouth will wake him up."
Andrea's jaw dropped. "LSD? Is that not safe?"
"He'll live. The police will find him," she looked at her watch, "jest about now. He'll be wakin' up, dressed like that, trippin' his face off in his car... which is illegally parked, won't start, and has an expired registration sticker..."
"Nice touch."
"... with three ounces of heroin, a pound of crack and two grocery bags of child pornography."
Lorraine shook her head. "You're bad."
"Ah won't tell ya where we put that big chunk of hashish... but the tattoo is a hint."
Andrea turned red with laughter.
Jessie helped herself the pancakes. "Did Ah mention the strap on sex toys?"
"Not TMI! Not TMI!"
Duke Cambius and Lady Norendel sat down at the small table. A delicate set of china was set out for an intimate tea for two.
The lady sat gracefully. "I do so love coming to your place for tea, your Grace. It's so hard to find people who know how to properly do high tea any more."
"A pity, yes." A troll poured tea for the both of them and the Duke casually waved his servant away.
Norendel leaned towards the Duke. "I take it you've heard of the attempt on the Chancellor's life?" she said softly.
"Yes," he said slowly. "What fools they were."
"Because their plan failed?"
He gave her a hard look. "When Justice is dispensed they'll wish the Garou hadn't spared their lives."
"They claim to be your supporters," she replied.
"Do they? Well, I do not support them. Believe me, we need people like that like a pooka needs fleas. They are a disgrace to the sidhe - to the very Dreaming itself. Imagine! Dealing with a twisted, mutated monster like that. The werewolves may be some ancient aberration of the Dream, as some believe - but a Black Spiral Dancer?!" He shook his head emphatically. "Dreadful. No, Lady Norendel - they are, and were, no friends, supporters or comrades of mine."
He sipped his tea. "These are dangerous times, my lady. Dangerous times sometimes call for dangerous solutions. But not stupid ones."
"I see," the other sidhe replied. "But still, had they succeeded..."
"Lady, please. Let us not speak of unpleasant matters. Although precedent and tradition dictates that someone of my rank be at the Queen's right hand, it was the Queen herself who chose Lady Andrea for that position. It was in many ways a brilliant move. The pooka's smart, well loved, and well connected. The commoners love her and in doing so, love the Queen. Although this galls many of us," he held up a hand, "Yes, I will admit I was greatly affronted by a vixen's elevation, still, Lady Andrea has done quite well. I've seen her at the council meetings, dark circle around her eyes, tail drooping - she is under tremendous pressure. Stars forbid it might break her. She is like a candle being burnt at both ends. We should admire her."
"While she lasts," Lady Norendel said knowingly.
"While she lasts," the duke echoed.
"Try the biscuits," he changed the subject. "You'll find them to be quite excellent."
"As always."