NationStates Jolt Archive

Dilana sighed as she looked about, "Well, you say that the elvie are gone, I guess we can try the elevator however I just worry about electrical stuff."

The storm was thudding heavily against the gladd front of the lobby and the pair of security officers were concentrating far more on trying to see anything on their outer cameras than on any of the other lights on their console.

In the guard shack at the front of the circular drive Mike and the guard there looked out at the storm, and both commented that they were glad to be inside. Even if the small, mostly glass building's heater was struggling to keep the place warm.

"Alright, then", Michael replied. Lets get going, then." He already didn't like this place. It didn't feel right. Lauralin had told him once that he was sensitive. He didn't know what that meant, but if it meant that he felt creeped in a luxury hotel with a troop of ghostly elvis wanna bes then she nailed it on the head. He moved over to the elevator and pressed the button. 'If there's a down button on this thing I ain't gettin in', he muttered.

Jessica too was nervous about the elevator. Though she sensed the Elvi had gone, she knew they could pop up any second and like in the movies, snap the cables on the elevator and send them to thier deaths. But, thankfully she took some heart knowing it would only be a few second trip up.

"Michael, if you are nervous...shut your eyes. We'll just head to the next floor up. Places like this should open doors to the stairs, would be more convient to thier residents."

The door binged and the doors slid open. Jessica walked into elevator and simply had her finger on the button above the Parking garage button. Once Michael and Dilana were in, she pushed it.

"Going up."

"No, I'm fine in elevators. I mean I know they go from point A to point B. If it stops, though, I"m getting out one way or another", he said, rubbing his chest. "Damn, what the hell did I eat anyway? Suddenly have bad heartburn."

Dilana listened to the couple's conversation, having nothing to ad. She still kept herself on full alert, in case something were to happen or pop up unexpectedly. She got in the elevator and leaned against one of the walls as she felt it go upwards.

Michael hummed some of the 'terrible elevator music' as it ascended and then realized he still had his gun in hand. He put it away, figuring it wouldn't be much use to against the Elvi anyway and waited for the doors to open.

Jessica patted Michael on the back as he mentioned heartburn. "You might have had something spicy while I was in the hospital...but I think it is probably just stress. Take a few deep breaths maybe that will help..I'm not a doctor though."

Jessica had half a mind to shoot out the speakers playing the annoying music, but that would attract unwanted attention, if only she had a silencer. This wonderful thought left her brain as the doors slid open to reveal an empty hallway. Jessica stepped out and looked left and right, there were doors but no one was out and wandering.

She turned and waved Michael and Dilana out. "So far no sense of the Elvi, but lets find some stairs and go to the top and then back to the bottom on a comb of this place. That force I felt earlier dragged me here, maybe I can pick up a signal."

Michael stepped out and nodded. "It's your lead, Jessie. Like it or not", he said, and took some slow deep breaths. He smiled and nodded again, "Seems to be working, Doc", and grinned.

As much as she could like any hospital, Lillian liked this one. No nonsense about whether she was allowed to see the patient; wonder if they had some psychic way of telling your intentions ...? No, Lillian, don't go there, you've had enough of this Them and Us stuff. Nonetheless, she gave a mental tick to Them as she passed the waiting-room and saw homeless people in the warmth The Night Life saw a need and acted; plenty of time to fiddle around with papers and permissions and programs later.

Cyrian's room was quiet. Where was this body-guard supposed to be? There was a nurse, doing that competent nurse thing; taking in Lillian in a glance, but never really shifting her attention from dials and tubes and the patient himself. Well, fine; Lillian pulled up a chair by the bedside and started to talk. She'd been "unconscious" herself. It wasn't all dreamless; there were times you sort of swam nearer the surface.So she'd chat on to Cyrian, and maybe something would get through.

"Seklh sends his love," she told the Sidhe, somewhat mendaciously; the cat hadn't found Cyrian as malleable as humans were. "And Jim sent his regards, too," -- well, that was true enough, Jim was a thoroughly nice man -- "You know Jim, from downstairs? He's much better, he mends quickly. And you know that -- car -- you were interested in?" She sent a swift glance at the nurse, but, after all, what could anyone guess from her words? "Well, anyway, it's still on the lot where I saw it. It's a bit dilapidated, but someone like you could have it back in top condition in no time ..."

On and on she babbled, soothingly, her words washing over Cyrian like a lullabye. The quiet domestic picture she painted was mundane, but familiar. Cyrian got updates on all the cats she fed, on the weather, on the restaurants and cafes, on the hospital shop and even on the crystallised pineapple -- "It's very good for you, really, I mean, it's fruit, so it must be, wouldn't you say?"

Not getting far with the two-way aspect of the conversation, Lillian gave up and pulled out her crochet, explaining how all these squares could be sewn together to make a nice warm rug. Fiinally, running out of inspiration, she began to sing softly as if Cyrian really were a sick child ... "Shool, shool, shool la rool, shool la rack-shack, shool la babbacoo, when I saw my Sally-babby-beel come dibble in the boo-shy-lawry "... nonsense her mother had sung to her; bits of Gaelic, perhaps; who knows ...

Heavy-eyed, the nurse forced herself back to full attention. To think she'd looked at this daft, harmless old woman and seen, for a moment, the All-Mother spinning the thread of a life. That night course in mythology was certainly giving her a new interest, if she was even thinking about it on the job! Embarrassed, she stood up and walked about, fiddling needlessly with the machines, scanning charts -- she was only supposed to be watching for a moment; she wanted to hand over.

The massive form of Godolkin filled the doorway as he strode into Cyrian's room. "Mistress, I wan...", and stopped as he saw the older woman and the nurse.

"Here", came a voice from a dark corner and Red came out of her crouch. She had seen the old woman enter and dismissed her as a non-threat. The woman's one sided banter was conformation and Red decided not to bother with interrupting her.

"I had wanted to speak with you about my visitation."

"Look, don't start with tha Saint Scahlett crahp and I don't want to hear about the angel visiting you shit eitheh, okay? I just wannna my job here, not get my ass shot off by an Iconoclast and if I'm really lucky die of old age somewhere."

Godolkin sighed and glanced at Cyrian, "How is he?"

"Well I don't bloody well know. I ain't a physician."

The nurse frowned at the Red and Godolkin, then looked apologetically back at Lillian. She could go now, the Sidhe's vitals were steady and he'd been quiet long enough.

"Excuse me, if you are going to be loud you need to take it into the hallway rather than disturbing the patient." She shoooed the pair ahead of her as she left the room.

Teh pull, though ti was very faint pulled Jessica up wards rather than down. Up to the penthouse level,where the elevator and the stairway both opened into a luxurious, and luxuriously furnished, lobby. There was a concierge's desk that was currently unattended, and sweeping free standing curveed stairs flowed up to what appeared to be gardens on the roof. A free standing fireplace was ready for a fire but was not curently lit. Heavey carved wood doors with with decorative etched glass panels led to the east and west hallways. The hallways were wide, plushly carpeted, with fine art work on the walls. The door's to the condo's could not be seen as each was set into it's own alcove.

There appeared to be only six condo's on the penthouse floor, and from having seen the building from the outside it would be logical to guess that each condo was two storyed. To the east one could see one door in the south wall of the hallway and two on the north. To the west one could see one door in the north wall and two in the south wall. None of the doors were directly across from one another.

The nearest alcove could be some what glimpsed by looking through the etched glass pannels - the alcove seemed to be some ten foot wide by about eight foot deep. The flooring was a rich hardwood with a decorative stone border about it.

The pull was to the east, though Jessica found it only minutely stronger here than below.

Red brushed past the nurse, remaining in the room and crouched in the darkened corner again where she had emerged from. Godolkin knew that the conversation was over, though he didn't understand. He had a sense of purpose and it gave him new life, yet Red seemed to reject it, as though it was painful somehow. He shook his head and returned to his room, wishing he could be discharged.

"So is he the one that you wanted me to meet?"

"Yes" Merry chuckled as she poured the frothy eggs into the hot skillet. "He's got quite a vocabulary I'm told and very entertaining if he takes a likeing to you."

Cheese and crumbled bacon went' on and she began rolling the omlettes. Then she slid each one on to waiting plates and carried then to the dining room table. "There's a plate of toast on the counter." She called back into the kitchen. "Why don't you grab it Rivan and lets dig in while they are still hot!" She put silverware and butter on the dining room table earlier as well as glasses of milk.

"Shit..."

Jessica muttered as she stared at the opulance of thier surroundings. "If I win the lottery I am so getting a place here."

Shaking her head and setting her mind to the task before them, she followed the pull east, yet it seemed not to get any stronger. Jessica began to slowly walk around the area, her chest slowly getting the 'butterfly' feeling as she anxiously paced around. Her hopes slowly began to fade with each step, it ended here. Whatever force had pulled her, it had ended. There was no strong signal, no sudden Night Life that was behind the whole thing appearing...nothing.

Jessica fell to her knees and let her body tip to where her forehead was on the carpet. Her right hand balled into a fist as she slammed it into the floor as she sniffied.

"Fuck...." she whimpered.

"Hello there." He commented to the bird while Merry created the omlettes. As she headed over to the dining room, he heard her call back about the toast.

With a "Sure thing." He picked up the plate of toast and headed to the dining room.

Elated that they had found the next item on the list the Elvi wrapped their prize in a mantle of other worldlyness and began to return to their summoner. Their hast was added to by a sudden sharp *click* and the resumeation of the demanding chant. Screaming, unheard by any but their brethern, the ensorceled ones sped to return to the circle. Flowing like water running down hill the arrived at the ground level and then streamed upwards, barely visable.

When the reached the proper level they headed east to the south side of the building, a parade of a seemingly infintie number of indiviaral semi transparent Elvi, heading for the damaged circle that barely held them as they serenaded the dead, but not decomposing body of their summoner.

They never noticed those hunting them as they flowed through the penthouse floor lobby. TGheir attention was required else where. Transporting the lifesized stuffy of a lavender plush pony wasn't easy.

"No", Michael said and knelt down beside Jessica. "You're not giving up. This isn't over."

They never noticed those hunting them as they flowed through the penthouse floor lobby. TGheir attention was required else where. Transporting the lifesized stuffy of a lavender plush pony wasn't easy.

Michael watched the odd spectacle as it moved past them, "Elvis always was tacky", he said and moved to follow the odd procession. At the entry to the room in which they gathered he stopped, pulling his gun. He knew it wouldn't help, but it felt comforting in his hands, something he needed at the moment. He had broken out in a cold sweat and become rather pale after seeing the girl in the sewer, the one who he had seen in New Orleans, but at least the sudden pain he had felt before was subsiding, being replaced by tightening in his chest that he reached up and tried to rub at and a shortness of breath. "I need to work out again, this is rediculous", he muttered, figuring his chest muscles were playing hell with him after that climb.

Carefully he poked his head around to see what was going on, wondering where the chanting was coming from.

Jessica felt Michael's prescene next to her and she turned and smiled at him. When his eyes shifted, Jessica was suddenly racked with searing pain as she hit the floor and her eyes shot open as she stared at the Elvi moving past, holding...holding what seemed to be stuffed pony between them. Jesus they are an odd bunch. What does it all mean?

As the Elvi moved away, she felt the pain subside a little and she got to her feet in a slight daze and followed Michael. Getting down on the floor, she peered around the corner at his feet, wondering what was going on.

The vision that Micahel saw, and thought he followed, lasted only for a split second then vanished and he found himself having gone nowhere but to the door in the eastern end of the penthouse floor lobby. The Evli had vanished some where behind that door, into one of the three condos that covered the east side of the building. He couldn't tell which one of the thee doors they wree behind.

However Jessica could tell that the paranormal itch that afflicted her was drawing her to the south, to the sole penthouse that covered the south east side of the bulding (http://www.atddm.com/elvi.gif).

The door into the corridor that would take them to the enty to that condo was not locked she found when she checked it. The carpeting was as plush as it looked and the alcove that held the door that would lead to said condo was floored with exotic hardwood with a wide band of malachite enclosing the inlaid wood. The walls of the alcove were of matching wood, and on the right hand wall as they looked south into the alcove, was a screening center. A camera, it's lense covered with back spray paint was discretely positioned to see whomever stepped into the alcove, and there was a card key reader, an intercom, and acurrentl blank monitor. There is the faintest layer of dust over this equipment and the door,which hand a handle rather than a more cutomary turn knob is closed. There is no marking on the door. However on the opposite wall - the left hand wall ( east wall of the alcove ) is a fine painint of a stormy ocean sunrise and a slightly dull brass name plate titles it "Sunrise Overlook"

"You're very good," Lillian said admiringly, as Red eased back into position. "I hadn't the slightest idea there was someone else here, and I'll bet the nurse didn't, either."

It was an amazing performance. Lillian knew her mundane senses were nothing compared to those of the Night Lifers, but even humans usually picked up when there was someone else in a room. Maybe at a subconscious level they could feel the altered air-currents, or hear breathing, or sense body-warmth. But there'd been none of that with Red. She was plainly top-drawer in her field, whatever it was.

She was also plainly trusted by that nice doctor -- Rhys, was it? -- and Sian. They wouldn't have put anyone they doubted in a position like this. So it would be safe to ask her something that had been troubling Lillian for ages. She'd been meaning and meaning to ask, but first Cyrian's illness and then the invasion of her apartment had distracted her.

She moved right away from Cyrian's bed and lowered her voice to a mere thread. "Uh, look, do you know if anyone's doing anything about, um, you know, finding his Guardian?" she whispered earnestly to Red.

"I know, I'm human, I'm not supposed to be mixed up in stuff like that, but honestly, it's obvious something's ... not right. They wouldn't let someone like him out on his own. Sure, he looks like an adult, but you can tell he's still just a kid; well, a teenager, maybe, and a brat at that, but a bright brat ... anyway, I think there's a way of finding out what happened, and I think someone who's more in touch with what's going on than I am should check it out. I was going to take him" -- she gestured towards the bed -- "but I don't think he'll be up to it for a while, and things are getting a bit urgent."

The picture of the dilapidated 'car' came into her mind again, more forcefully than ever, almost painfully. She didn't understand why it had suddenly become so pressing a matter; maybe the storm would kill the Steed? But surely, in a magic body, it would be resistant to simple things like climate? Nonetheless, she felt under strong pressure to start things happening, now, quickly. She looked up at Red like a bird with a worm it wasn't too sure about.

"I don't suppose you ... no, you couldn't leave your body-guarding, I quite see that. But is there anyone else who could look into it? I could take them, it's not far, we might even get it done before the worst of the storm hits ...?"

And all the time she pressed for this adventure she didn't want, she was remembering the words that every one of her favourite fantasy authors had written at some time: Human, meddle not in the affairs of Elves.

"Fraid I ain't got a clue, love", Red told her in her distinctly british accent. "And as much a shock this may come to you, I used to hunt the night life. A'hm the Scahlett 'untress. But don't you worry about that. A'hm here ta guard him right enough, and I take my commissions seriously." Red thought a moment and then looked at Lillian. "I could have Godolkin go with you, though he won't understahnd what your talking about any better than I. But 'e's good in a scrahp."

She stepped over to the doorway and in voice louder than she was using but certainly lower than most would have heard down the hallway she said, "Godolkin. Ready up", and then stepped back into the room and looked back at Lillian. "Now don't you let him frighten you. E's a good man. Just don't tell 'im I said so."

When Godolkin arrived a few minutes later he had his weapons on. The mini-gun hung strapped to his right arm and the purifier was on his left hip. The packs for both on his back. He was massively built with a stern face but with contrastingly gentle eyes.

(Red and Godolkin - http://www.atddm.com/redpaladin.htm)

"She needs an escort", Red told him as he walked in, "and we can't 'ave you getting soft, now, can we?" she grinned. "So if you would be so kind as to go with her, she could use your help."

Godolkin nodded, "Of course, Mistress", he replied in his deep, rumbling baritone. He looked at Lillian, "At your leasure", he said simply.

Jessica looked down the alcove at the door and the security measures. She felt better that the secuirty camera was painted over, yet that was a mystery to her. Whoever lived here was rich and as far as she knew rich folks loved security. She looked over at Michael.

"After the Elvi depart, we'll try the door. Whoever is behind this shit is in there." She moved her jacket so she could see the butt of her pistol. "I am trusting you to keep me from putting a bullet through the fuck's balls."

Michael nodded and sat back against the wall, seeming to be out of breath and rubbed his chest, "Got ya covered. But who's going to keep me from doing the same?" he asked. Then he glanced around nervously before looking back toward the door.

Minutes crept past and there was nothing to do in the aclove except to stay still and hope that none of the residents who'se condo doors opened off of the east hallway came out for one reason or another. An other thing to be devoutly hoped was that the concierge did not return and do a check of 'his' floor.

The alcove was large but still Dilana, Jessica and Michael filled it up and there was little room to move about lest they become visible to some one just looking in through the the penthouse lobby door.

Thirty minutes pasedt and a jeep from the zoo arrived at the guard shack below and Mike could think of no reason to delay. Reluctantly getting in jeep, holding the Tamarin carefully, he looked over his shoulder until the Waldorf Towers were hidden by the dreary curtain of the artic storm. He didn't dare try calling Dilana, for fear that a ringing phone might give them away.

Leave God dammit. Jessica thought angerily about the Elvi. Last thing she wanted was the clerk to come back to his post. Course she had her Defenders Card and could pass herself and Michael off as private investiagtors hired by the Houston police and Dilana possibly as someone who just transfered in.

Then again, the thought of Cain came to her mind. The vampire lord did not want Defenders working in the city. Yet we are the only ones doing something about this. Jessica thought. The undead bastard is probably trying to stop his balls from shrinking since we are dealing with a problem the big vampire lord won't or can't handle. Asshole. If the clerk was a night life or knew of them and worked as a contact, no doubt word would reach Cain, who would probably be pissed all to hell. The last thing Jessica wanted was to meet him, espically as a human and not as a weretiger.

So, they waited in the alcove. Waiting for the strange feeling in Jessica's body to go away to signify the departure of the Elvi.

Godolkin nodded, "Of course, Mistress", he replied in his deep, rumbling baritone. He looked at Lillian, "At your leasure", he said simply.

The word "leisure" just didn't go with being escorted by Godolkin. Lillian was awed. She'd never known such a physically perfect person -- and considering that I knew Nureyev, though not, of course, in the Biblical sense, that's some compliment, Lillian told herself chattily. She couldn't say it aloud because she was too busy trotting along to keep up with the big man to have any breath to spare.

"So, you're not of the Sidhe, obviously," she gasped as they waited for the lights to change and she sheltered behind Godolkin's bulk. "Do you know about Guardians?"

His reply was swept away by the wind, but it wouldn't have mattered. Lillian on a teaching binge was unstoppable.

"See, children are so important to the Sidhe that they appoint Guardians for them," she explained. "An adult who guards the child from all harm, yet makes sure he learns life's lessons. Sort of like an ideal parent, or maybe more like a godparent; like, making sure they grow up a good person. And the Guardian puts aside his or her own life until the child reaches adulthood. It's an enormous responsibility, but an enormous honour, too. Well, I suspect Cyrian is some sort of Sidhe nobility, so he'd have the best Guardian available. So what I've been wondering is, where has his Guardian gone?"

The lights changed and Lillian had to scuttle. Godolkin now had her sheltered under his coat, his arm helping her walk, but it was still a struggle to move in such weather. Nonetheless, she babbled on:

"And the other thing is, Guardians have Steeds. Horses, you know, except more intelligent, and magical. In the city they make themselves look like cars. A Steed would never let itself be separated from a Guardian, if it could help. But I think I've found one, and there's no Guardian with it."

A moment of cold uncertainty hit her stomach. What if the Steed she thought she'd found really was just a car? But surely not. If it had been a real car it would have been stripped, stolen, by now. Or the hotrodders would have done something about it; they wouldn't have let a car like that go unclaimed. So it must have some kind of glamour on it, a don't-see-me spell. She'd only been able to see it because she herself was already more than halfway over the border between the worlds ... which was a nice way of saying she was nuts ...

No more time to argue with herself about it. They'd reached the lot, and there it was.

It was worse. Just days ago, before the attack in her apartment, it had looked like a real car -- if she'd known anything about cars, she could even have said what make it was. She remembered how she'd enjoyed the in-joke when she'd first picked it for a Steed and then seen the horse badge.

Now it looked more like a sketch of a fine car. If you looked away from it you had an impression -- fast car -- but if you looked directly at it you'd be hard put to say whether its lines were curved or sharp. Its darkened windows had the purple colour of cheap glare-tinting that was giving up, and its paint was dull and cracked. Under the lights you couldn't even really tell what colour it was.

Pity sharp in her heart, Lillian walked over and patted it. It was warm, in this weather! Her hand rested on the door; she could have sworn she didn't pull it, but she felt it unlatch and swing open under her hand.

"Eeeeuuuwwwww!"

Lillian couldn't help herself. The smell from inside forced her backward. It snaked into her lungs, sticky black ropes strangling her. But there'd been time for her to take in the dark stains on the seats, on the dashboard, on the steering wheel.

"I ... I don't think that's Coke," she quavered, coughing and shaking as she huddled against the sheltering cliff that was Godolkin.

Godolkin caught the scent easily. The scent of death. And he stepped forward, insistantly but gently making sure Lillian stayed back. The stains were blood and the woman's reaction indicated that she was well aware of that fact. He closed the door and placed his coat and arm around her again. He wished he could have her wear it for better protection but it would be too long, too heavy and leave his weapons clearly visible.

"We know what happened to his protector", he rumbled unnecessarily. "Let's get you somewhere. Is your home close by?"

As she led him to her home he changed the subject. He wasn't sure why, it just seemed the thing to do under the circumstances.

"I'm afraid that I don't know of what you speak", he told her, his eyes ever searching for a threat. "I'm only six years old", he continued. "I was genetically engineered and then grown and psychologically programmed for my job. I only recently .... left their employ."

"I'll look after you two," Dilana whispered as she responded to Jessica and Michael's remarks. The lioness woman felt a bit of guilt, for the only senses that were extreemely hightened were those of sight, smell, touch, taste and hearing. If Dilana could ad the strength as well as the power of her claws and such she would.
"We can be private investigators," Dilana whispered, "I don't have anything to back that up..."
She thought a moment, "Mike, I know Mike and he didn't look to be in trouble with that guard down there so perhaps if we or I say that we know Mike they may not be defensive right away."

Michael pulled out a Defender's card and gave it to Dilana. "It's got my name, but you can say your in training. Just refer them to Jessie or myself." He still looked to be in a little pain, though it seemed to be subsiding.

Jessica looked over at Michael and arched an eyebrow. Something seemed to be amiss with him. "Michael? Are you alright?"

"Fine", he replied. "Just whatever I ate. I don't suppose anyone has any antacids." He glanced back toward the door. "What the hell is going on in there, a convention."

Another half hour passed in increasing discomfort. Oh not physically discomforting, for all three of those hiding in the alcove were physically fit. However they could all fee the building swaying every so slightly under the forceful gusts of wind. And yet there was still no sign of the concirege, or indeed pf any of the occupants of the various penthouses, though that was most likely due to the most excellent sound proofing.

***************************************

Merry took a piece of the hot buttered toast afer Rivan set it on the table ans slatered it with tart orange marmalade. "If this storm keeps up you won't have to face the terrors of shopping." She half teased as crack of thunder, something not commom to artic storms, rumbled through the highrise condominimum.

"And I'm glad we got back when we did. I wouldn't fancy trying to be out in this. Have you been out in weather this bad?"

***************************************
Sian shuddered and moaned almost inaudibly. Only half conscious she rolled on her side and gagged for a long moment. Eventually she pushed herself into an upright position and tried folding herself into a crosslegged tailors sit. She waved away help from Ryan. "No might not be safe right now. Ryan."

Rivan grinned and commented, returning her tease slightly, "For you I'd brave even the terrible horrors of the perfume shops and the dreaded shoe stores."

He looked at the jams and jellys before picking one, before adding, "I'm grateful as well, the weather is right nasty today. I'm almost certain I've never been out in a storm this bad, nor would I relish finding out what it was like."

"Fuck it."

Jessica said. She was tired of sitting outside and waiting. She was anxious for her pelt and her true tiger form back. Standing up, she pulled out her pistol. Her hand wrapped around the handle and twisted and much to her shock the door was unlocked. Throwing the door open, she jumped through, gun at the ready and stopped dead in her tracks.

The apartment was deserted, she couldn't hear anyone nor smell any fresh food. The elvi were close, yet they were not visible.

"Its looks okay..so far."

The condo was large, and luxuriously furnished, that Jessica could tell just from the entry foyer. The ceilings were fully thirteen feet high and the rich woods that panneled the foyer gleamed as did the original art that hung on the walls. The air was still with that faint staleness one finds in a place that hasn't been occupied for a while, and it was cold, as if no one had turned on the heat to combat the ice storm with-out. The carpet under their feet gave new meaning to the term "ankle deep". It was sculpture cut pure wool in a deep forest green that matched the malachite trim of the outer entry nitch. To their left, in the foyer- 'behind' the door that they had come in, was an unobtrusive door that led to a spacious laundry, maids office and suite. To their right just as they entered was a discrete louvered door that opened to show a spacious coat closet. The wide foyer went before the intruders for nearly twenty five feet before ending in a cross hall way. About mid way an occassional table in rosewood stood beneath a mirror. There was a small pile of neatly stacked mail, and a two key fobs holding several keys each. From the way the doors were set it was easy to tell that the walls were unusually thick and probably sound proofed.

Michael followed her in, "You need to learn what it means being in charge", he said in a low voice, "breaking into places is my job. You put me out of a job then you have to buy all the dinners."

He quickly looked behind the door, noted the door behind it and opened the louvered door. He then moved to the area with the maids office and suite and checked them then the laundry room. Moving into the foyer he stopped at the table with the mail and went to sift through them somewhat to try to find out who might live here. He held up his fingers to Jessica, showing the dust that had come off the envelopes and then looking at the keys. One ring were car keys, the other had household keys and he took that with him just in case they might be needed to open something. He gestured to Dilana to close the door so that it would look less suspicious from out in the hallway and then moved to the cross hallway looking first one way and then the other.

Jessica smiled at Michael as he made his comment and waited near the door as he did his sweep. When he returned, she joined him at the table as he scooped up the keys, she noted the symbols for BMW and Mercedes on two of them. The stillness of the condo disturbed her, whoever lived here had not been here for a while, but a person with this much money must at least have a maid or someone to take care of it.

She looked at the mail but didn't open it. Some bills, discount coupon stuff, but nothing telling on who the person was. Jessica also noted the doors seemed too deeply set in the walls, shoddy craftsmanship was probably not to blame but there should be another reason. Sound proof maybe? Rich folk love thier privacy.

Jessica then placed the mail back and followed Michael to the cross hallway.

Dilana watched as Jessica busted through the door, then she followed the couple in and looked around. This place made her actually want to wipe her feet before entering, it was so magnificent. The young woman stopped her gazing as she shut the door as Michael had jestered her to do.
"These are sound proof," Dilana stated, "I know that for sure."

Michael looked at Dilana as she made her statement. "Yeah, well, that many Elvi in one room, you need something to prevent the other tenents from going insane. Jessie", he continued, indicating the two doors, "which room?"

Seklh ran to Lillian as she unlocked the door to her apartment, then stopped, sniffed, and eyed Godolkin up and down.

"Meeeowrt!" he said commandingly, as if he had every confidence in his welcome, and moved forward to weave around the big man's ankles, purring. Lillian, peeling off her scarf, smiled.

"He's an infallible judge of character," she told Godolkin, enjoying the comic contrast between her huge escort and the determined little cat. She gestured the pair into the kitchen and began preparing quantities of hot chocolate and cinnamon toast -- in her opinion, the only possible food to offer a guest after being out in a gale like that.

But, pleasant though it was to be out of the cold and wind, she couldn't settle.

"I think we both know what happend to Cyrian's Guardian," she said regretfully. "I don't think even a Sidhe could survive losing that much blood. If it was his blood, of course -- it could have been his attacker's, I suppose."

She considered this as she popped marshmallows into the frothy mugs, carefully giving Godolkin two pink, one white; always the guest's privilege in her childhood.

"But even if he is still alive, he must have been terribly hurt, or he'd have come back to Cyrian," she continued, thinking aloud. "And if he were alive, his Steed would be trying to get help for him, or trying to get to Cyrian by itself ... oh, take your coat off and sit down, man!" she said impatiently. "I've been under it, for heaven's sake, I know what you've got on underneath. Considering what I've seen in the past few days, I'm not going to be shocked by weapons."

She stared at the swirls of melting marshmallow in her mug. Godolkin was just sitting there; she didn't even know if he ate like normal people. And he was only six years old ... poor thing, wonder how they managed it? Did he wake up adult? Was his brain or his body ever a little boy's? Wonder if he's ever just played?

Enough sentiment, Lillian! She shook herself back to the matter in hand.

"Something is still pushing at me, Godolkin," she told him. "I think that Steed can tell us something. I should have got in or sat in the driver's seat or something, but .... urrghh!"

This was no time for old-lady squeamishness, though. She forced herself to think the situation through.

"If the Steed wanted to, it could take off; it's not really a car, so it's not a question of keys. Thing is, would it trust us? Or are the Sidhe the only people it would respond to? And if they are, how do we know which ones to talk to? If we tell the wrong group about the Steed, it could be ... I dunno ... very bad."

She absently took a bite of the cinnamon toast. She was concentrating so hard she forgot to swallow. "It'f fo fwustwating!" she announced, spraying sugar. "We need a cop. Someone who could tell things just by looking at the Steed; you know, read the evidence. But we can't just go get a cop, because how many cops are going to listen while we explain that this isn't really a car, it's a horse, you can't just cut bits off it and shove them under a microscope, or haul its seats out, or anything?

"So we need a cop, but we can't get one, and we need a Sidhe, but we can't get them. There must be someone it'd be safe to tell, someone with the right skills, but I don't know who. You got any ideas, Godolkin?"

The hall way there were looking down was as wide as the entry foyer, and carpetd in the same luxurious carpet. The left bar of the T held three openings in the north wall, a door that the wide hall dead ended in and only one double door on the south wall.

A quick investigation showed the the arch ways in the north wall - the first two let to a spacious, island style kitchen with a soor at the far end leading tothe laundry room that Michael had already explored. The last, easternmost archway proved to be double pocket doors, opened all the way into the wall, and giving view of a lavish formal dining room with built in buffet tables and display hutches. Much equisite sterling and porcelain were on display in those hutches. The east end of the dining room opened on to a very deep balcony, via french doors, which held a small, less formal outdoors dining set.

The door at the dead end of the hall led to a large half bath.

The double doors in the south wall opened into what had to be the master suite. An unusaual raised circular platform was dominated by a custom crafted circular bed tht was most certainly of greqater than kingsize porportions. The walls held built in book shelvs, builtin chest of drawers. They aslo held a high end Bose sound systen and a 60 inch flat panel plasma screen tv. The master bath with walk in closet,shower, seperate tub, an envrionments unit and an exercise area opened open on to a private balcony as did the french doors in the master bedroom.

I'm almost certain I've never been out in a storm this bad, nor would I relish finding out what it was like

"I'm glad you've never had to find out. I don't know that I could be a nomad like you have been Rivan. The Pack is such a part of my life, and I think I like my creature comforts just a little too much."

Merry looked at Rivan forthrightly as she set aside her empty plate. "I love you very much Rivan, but I don't want you to think or feel that I am putting any sort of chains on you. I love you as you are, and I know that, perhaps, means that some day you'll move on."

She swallowed and looked away for a moment then back at him. "It will hurt like all hell when you leave, but I'd rather love you and kiss you good bye some day, than not love you and not hurt."

Godolkin watched as the cat wove in and out around his legs with surprised curiousity. He had seen cats before, of course, but they had never dared approach him.

"I think he may be flawed this time. I'm hardly devoid of bloodshed and most of it innocent", he stated and then toward the chair in the kitchen.

oh, take your coat off and sit down, man!" she said impatiently. "I've been under it, for heaven's sake, I know what you've got on underneath. Considering what I've seen in the past few days, I'm not going to be shocked by weapons."

Godolkin stood and removed his coat, though he did so more as a soldier following an order than anything else. He then retook his seat.

"Doctor Rhys. She's a tepe", he said, using Red's slang word. "She could read it, possibly. If not we can have it take us to someone. If it's the wrong person then we kill them until we find the right one." He said it as quoting from a book, which he was more or less since it was standard Iconoclast protocol.

He simply smiled as he hadn't expected to fair well in the wilds when he'd first set out, but it worked out and forced him to continuely improve his natural skills and connections with the land as he travelled.

"My dear Merry, you may not have intended it, but I have been ensnared most fully by you, nor do I wish to break free. I may roam but as long as I am welcome, I would be honoured to call this place my home." He replied with full sincerity and the faintest hint of fear that he would be rejected. He had not mentioned it, but a great deal of his wanderlust was born from the inability to find acceptance amongst the clans and packs he'd met during his travels.

I would be honoured to call this place my home."

Merry read his fear, and while she didn't quite understand it basis, she repsonded to it hoping to reassure Rivan.

"Rivan, I want you as my mate, but that doesn't mean we are chained to one another. You will always be welcome where ever I am, and I know where ever the Pack calls home they will welcome you as well."

"Merry, you don't know what that means to me." He replied, his eyes watering, with joy rather than sorrow, as he spoke. He finally had a home, and someone he knew he'd love for the rest of his days.

Merry stood up and went around to Rivan, wrapping her arm about him in a tight loving embrace. She buried her face in his sweet smelling hair and inhaled his scent deeply. "I want to fall asleep in your arms." she murmured then released him to strt cleaning the remains of their late night meal off of the table.

Rivan looked up at her with a smile as he got up to help her clean the dishes. He'd caught her scent as well, the scent of his beloved.

Jessica looked at Dilana and nodded. Soundproofing, so that is what it was. Definatly cost the owner a pretty penny, but the question lingered...where was the owner? No one in thier right mind would abandon such a wonderful place. It didn't make sense to Jessica. It was one of many mysteries surrounding the Elvi.

Faced with the doors, Jessica began to scratch herself and tried to adjust her clothes as she felt the Elvi's force on her. It was by far the most powerful she had ever felt.

"I can't tell...I can't pin point it. Well...only one way to tell. Lets try the left first."

... "Doctor Rhys. She's a tepe", he said, using Red's slang word. "She could read it, possibly. If not we can have it take us to someone. If it's the wrong person then we kill them until we find the right one." ...

Lillian's mouth gaped open. No words were coming out. There simply didn't seem to be anything to say to Godolkin's emotionless statement.

"You -- you can't do that!" she sputtered.

But she'd dealt with enough kids in her time to know what the next question would be: Why not? Lillian quailed inwardly. This didn't really seem the right time to start somebody's ethical education. Remember, it's as if he's six years old! she told herself, unconvinced but grasping at straws.

"Er ... uh ... people like us don't go round killing people for no reason," she said carefully. "It's not nice, Godolkin." Nobody will want to play with you if you do that, she continued to herself, but bit the comment off.

"I suppose we'd better get in touch with Doctor Rhys, then, if she's ... tepe, you said? Telepathic?" she said aloud. "I guess I'd hoped there'd be someone who knew the politics of the Elves -- "

Whenever you say that word, your head fills up with singing, said the nasty old voice in her head. Whaddya think you are, Sam Gamgee or something? Didn't you learn anything about Them last time?

So, are you going to put us in touch with those Under Hill, then? Lillian replied, glaring at the tawdry Egyptian statue in its corner and hoping Godolkin wasn't picking anything up. She had no intention of admitting, even to herself, that she'd been conscripted into the service of the cat-goddess.

Not yet, petal, not yet! smirked the old one, leaving her reluctant devotee to weave whatever fantasies she chose from that "yet".

"Umm ... Dr Rhys ... do you have her num -- no, hang on, I think I've got it here."

She waited nervously for someone to pick up and absently began making another batch of toast, one-handed, for Godolkin.

The spacious island kitchen was filled with top of the line appliances, no expense spared. Heck the impressive coffemaker had probably cost nearly a grand. There was a thick walled ceramic mug with a picture of Elivs on it in the sink, coffee staining the bottom, but any liquid was long dried.
The designer dining set appeared to have been custom made. The master bedroom suite, with the eye opening, rotateing circular bed, again had no expense spared, and the clothes in the massive walk in closet were all 'bespoke' tailored, and suited for a man with elegant and expensive tastes. Dark rich colors in fine wools, linen, egyptain cotton,and silk

Save for the thee Lacoste Polos in palest pink, navy and a royal purple -the top drawer luxury brands three signature colors for last season - or the Rock & Republic Henley jeans tossed on the floor of the bathroom atop them. The carelessly thrown towels half into the tub, half dramed on the floor. Or the jumble of socks and bright red Nikes tumbled by the half made circular bed.

The jewelry in the builtin dressers was that of an older man. A heavy signet ring set with lapis lazuli, many cuff link sets in gold, silver and plantium, discretely embelished with flat insets of various semiprecious stones - jade, onyx, amber, malachite and others.

The east half of the two story condominimum was devoid of human life.

"Wow..."

Jessica was left gaping at the kitchen. She had seen this kind of stuff on home decorating shows and tours of celebrity homes specials. She knew that a full year's paycheck from her old job at Rick's would probably be needed to make the down payment on everything. Her eyes traveled to a mug in the sink. Walking over Jessica picked it up and sighed, she twisted it so Dilana and Michael could see.

"Either the Elvi drink French Roast or there is something else going here."

Jessica replaced the mug as Michael and Dilana walked into the bedroom. The woman looked with longing over the kitchen, definatly....her place was a definate slum compared to this. Jessica entered the bedroom last and stared at the clothing. She rarely paid attention to fashion as during her immortality she new it changed so often she would be spendig a fortune to attempt to keep up. So, clothes was clothes.

She walked over to the dresser and began to carefully go through the jewlery and clothes. Jessica hoped she could find a high school or college ring that would bring them a little closer to finding the mystery occupant of the condo...but a wallet would be prefered or a checkbook, some kind of recept or something. After carefully searching and replacing everything they way it was, she stood. The occupant kept his stuff in a safe somewhere or didn't keep a paper trail.

"You guys find anything of interest? I ain't found shit over here."

Jessica's idle rummaging through the jewelry drawer had inadvertantly triggered a hidden compartment. Slowly what looked to be a decorative carving slid aside and a shallow drawer slid forth. In the drawer was a wallet of beautifully tanned and supple leather, a passport, a key fob with three small keys, of the kind usually associated with safety deposit boxes, and a thick leather bound portfolio.

The wallet contained just about every planimum or gold car out there as well as the very exclusise AMEX Private Reseerve card - a card that even most American Express card holders didn't even know existed. They were all in the name of Wilhelm Reinquist, as was the Texas Drivers Liscense. The picture was that of an older, some what heavyset very dignified looking gentleman who might have been of germanic heritage. His birthdate put him in his mid eighties, and despite the slight over weight he looked hale and hearty. The pass port showed that he travelled frequently to a wide variety of places around the globe, often as much as seven or so times a year, with stays of at least two weeks every time. The wallet contained as well at least ten thousand dollars, the bills fresh and crisp from a bank.

The leather bound portfolio was thick and heavy.

Jessica turned around and she saw the compartment expose itself. Not wasting a second, she quickly went over and smiled as she pulled out the wallet.

"Jack Pot!" She said with great glee and as she opened it she added "and how."

Her fingers gently exposed the thick slice of crisp bills. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes seemed like they would burst as she stared. Jessica managed enough strength to twist the wallet and see the driver's liscense as well as exposing credit card after credit card.

"Mr. Wilhelm Reinquist is loaded."

Jessica turned and grabbed the keys, ignoring the thick portfolio for the moment. She turned back to the wallet and began to flip through the bills, her eyes nearly exiting thier sockets as she passed twenty after twenty, fifity after fifty and hundred after hundred after hundred...

Jessica blinked as she stared at the bill. "There has gotta be...thousands and thousands in here...not counting the credit cards. Jesus...guy must be a fucking millionaire."

(Sorry. Thought I had posted before, but apparently it didn't go through (for micheal that is)

Michael reached over and gently took the wallet, looking at the driver's license. He didn't seem the least bit interested in the money, as he wasn't a man who could be bought with that sort of thing. He memorized the license number for a later run through the DMV, CIA files and INTERPOL then replaced the wallet and picked up the portfolio to have a look inside it. He would still do his checks, he just wouldn't do it through the Defender's typical contacts, as he contacts of his own.

****

Godolkin didn't question the woman's reaction. Most seemed to react that way, even if it was a bit more efficient.

"It's not nice, Godolkin."

The statement hit him hard for some reason he couldn't figure out and he suddenly felt ashamed to have disappointed the elder woman. Why this bothered him so much he wasn't quite sure. He had sniffed at the hot chocolate and then sipped it as though it might be poisoned, doing something similar with the toast that she had made. After initial tasting, his taste buds alert for any poisons that might be there, he quickly ate the toast and quaffed the hot chocolate. As she seemed distracted but still making more of the delicious food, he set the hot chocolate mug down near her, hoping she would unconciously refill that as well.

As Michael took the wallet, Jessica took the passport and flipped through it. The man was certainly a frequent flyer and probably sat in first class on his trips. The man was old, mid-eighties and Jessica removed the wallet again to compare with the passport picture and the picture inside the wallet. They matched. She also preformed a quick flip through the credit cards to make sure they were matched the named on the passport and lisence, they did.

Jessica looked at the money and sighed and then at Michael and Dilana. When thier backs were turned, she quickly slid out a slice of bills, she would count it later but she knew she had at least a thousand or two. This guy apparently had some connection with the Elvi as they were in his place and she wanted compensation for losing her tiger form. If he didn't, she would replace the money...then again a man this rich wouldn't notice a few thousand missing.

She quietly slipped the money into her pocket and replaced the wallet. Jessica then looked at the keys she had. They were small, too small for a car but for a lock or something they would fit. She would keep her eye open for a safe.

Jessica walked over to Michael and looked at the portfolio.

"Anything interesting?"

(Was on vacation.)

Dilana could not believe the world that she had just walked in to. Everything so neat, perfect looking however most of all pricy very very pricy. Her eyes were constantly scanning around for anything out of place, her ears listening for any sound through out the condo although nothing was being seen nor heard.
"Well," the bathroom isn't as neat," Dilana commented as she exited the room and saw Jessica and Michael going through a wallet.
"There's towels all over the floor; some half in the bath tub," Dilana said, "They're dry though and they've been there for a while."
The young woman walked over and looked down over Jessica's shoulder, "Holy shit that's a lot of money. And the wallet it has come in isn't some cheap thing iether."

Michael looked up at Jessica as she asked her question then turned to Dilana at her comment on the bathroom. He went over to it and looked in then shook his head.

"Something is very wrong here. If he killed himself then why did he leave a stack of mail and a mess in the bathroom. Unlike most television drama's suiciders tend to neaten things up. Something to do with tying up thier affairs or something. If he died, then why wasn't it reported? If he was killed, then why was all this money left behind? Unless it was a hit. If he left, why did he leave his passport and wallet? Barring that", he continued as he pointed into the place in a specific direction, "what happened to the maid? It can't be kidnapping either. You don't kidnap the one who would foot the bill, you blackmail them. And why are the Elvi here? Are they being held hostage by them? This doesnt' make sense."

Jessica accidentally kicked aside the bright red Nike's as she moved to look over Michaels shoulder. It was of a noticeably smaller size that the hand crafted Italian loafers and dress shoes in the closet, as were the polos and jeans tossed on the floor of the master bathroom. Wilhelm Reinquist stood six foot according to his drivers liscense. Whose ever the jeans were stood only about five foot five.

The portfolio was filled with a variety of legal doccuments and garnered the trio the name of the law firm Mr. Reinquist partonized. Michael and Jessica would recognise ti as the sole NL safe firm about - or there were indivual attorneys but this was a firm completely composed of the Night Life, and one with a excellent Mundane reputation as well.

Other doccuments with in the portfolio included last years assessment and tax evaluation of the two condos - for apparently Mr. Reinquist had just two years ago bought the one along side as well. He'd own the one they were in since the construction of the Waldorf Towers back in the mid eighties. Both were heavily insured. There were also what at first appeared to be several job applications each in their own seperate folders each had a photograph attached. Then there were several papers dealing with investments and various banking establisments.

Mr. Wilhelm Reinquist was more close to being a billionaire than any mere millionaire.

The shoe caught Michaels attention and he looked at it then at the other shoes in the room.

"The maid didn't leave. Assuming that was all she was. But where are they? Could the Elvi have kidnapped them? Are they holding them? It doesn't seem like it's something they would do. And if he's involved with them, controlling them. Then why does it look like he hasn't been here?"

He handed the portfolio over to Jessica, "We can contact them for further information if need be, they have a really good rep." Then he proceeded to the next room off the hallway.

The last room off the left end of the hallway was a spacious half bath, as custom as the rest of the condo was, and apparently unused in some time.

That left only the space to the right of the entry foyer. It was at least equal in space to the left half of the condo if not larger.

Standing in the T intersection formed by the entry foyer and the hall way if one looked west, -opposite the way they had already explored - what ws visible was...

to the left side, the north side, was a w, panneled in the same rich woods as the ehntry foyer, but dominated a pair of ornately carved pocket doors, the sort that slid into the walls. Severla more fine paintings hung on on either side of those wide doors.

To the right what first caught ones eye was the free standing curved stairs that spiraled upwards to the second floor. South of that lay the vast living room with its two story ceiling and free standing fireplace. The south wall was formed of french doors, currently hidden behind heavy drapes.

'How big is this fucking apartment?' Michael mumbled, never having been in a place like this. He glanced toward the heavy drapes and then up the stairs.

"Wait here, and watch the stairs, I'll check behind door number two", he said, moving cautiously toward the drapes.

"Well...robbery could still be something." Jessica said after Michael voiced very good ideas that had been churning in her head. "Remember we didn't find this stash till after I flipped through the drawers and so there must be a trigger in there. Maybe..."

Jessica stopped, knowing it was silly to continue. She then thought of the maid after the shoe discovery and as her eyes went over the legal documents. Her throat became dryer and dryer as she saw the taxes done, the man was loaded. He had no reason to work another day in his life, hell if he had any kids or grandkids they could just live off the interest and the grandkids kids, thier kids...

"The maid." She muttered. "I got an idea...what if this guy was a hermit and the maid was his only connection to the outside world? Jealous of the wealth she sought to rob him, he croaked somehow and she dragged the body out and goes like nothing is wrong and trying to find the dough."

It was a silly theory, but still. While Michael went off to explore, Jessica began to flip through the documents, looking for a sheet of paper with the most recent date.

The most recent paper was the last months bank statement. Electric, condo asociation, cable, phone and one Mrs. Garcia were all autopay. Mrs. Garcia apparently recieved fifteen hundred dollars a month.

Michael found that the drapes slid back easily, revealing a wide baclony such as was off the other rooms. Snow and sleet were drifting down heavily outside. The free standing fire place (http://www.atddm.com/fireplace) drew the eye, for it appeared to be a massive peice of malachite that had been carved to resemble a gnarled tree trunk and ascended to the ceiling of the living room a full striy above. The living room was not wall to wall carpet as was the rest of the condo, a single step down - and was floored in magnificent rich golden oak, obviously not in any way a veneer, but solid planks, probably from an British manor house. Oriental rugs glowing under the indirect lights were old and priceless. The floor to second story ceiling, built in display cabents that formed the eastern wall - the one that seperated the living room from the master bedroom - were filled with museum quality art works, mayan jade statues, rare egyptain funerary masks, a display of three kimonos, and Japanese battle masks, and too much more to describe. That eastern wall was over thirty nine feet long, and the western wall with it's matching display cases was nearly twenty seven feet as well.

That left the stairs, the discrete door that dead ended the western run of the hall much as the half bath had deaded ended the eastern end, and the massive double pocket doors in the north wall.

Held as needed

'Christ I can fit my house in this room', he muttered, closing the drapes again. Glancing around he pointed at the door to the west, indicating that he would be checking that one first. Once done there he would check the doors on the northern wall and then go up if need be.

As Jessica looked through the portfolio, she paused. She was sitting on the bed and staring at what looked to be a job application. She stared at one of them, an eighteen year old kid, nothing unusal, A/B student, member of the Math and Science Club. As she scanned over it, she noticed it was for an apprenticeship. Apprentence to what? How to be an ancient rich coot?

She froze as she read the single word that jumped out magic. Jessica stared at the application before putting it down. She grabbed another and scanned it and found magic once again mentioned. Jessica began grabbing application after application, time and again magic appeared somewhere in the pages.

"Fucker..." she muttered. Standing up, she marched over to the wallet in the wall safe and removed all of the cash and stuffed it into her pocket. "A fucking little compensation you damn fucker."

Jessica went back to the bed and grabbed the applications, the fact magic had appeared was more than enough proof for her to believe Reinquist was the one behind the Elvi and whoever he had picked to help him.

Marching through the condo, she ignored the sites as she followed Micahel's path. Finding the man, she shoved them in his face. "The fucker has a helper and they caused the Elvi. Look...all the applications have the word 'magic' in them and this is for an apprenticeship...for magic. Need we more proof?"

Michael gently pushed the applications down out of his face and then looked up at Jessica, uncrossing his eyes.

"Ah that's better. And damn sight prettier too. And yes, we need more proof.

"Was he responsible for summoning them?

"Did his apprentice do it without his knowledge?

"Did someone else, an opposing abra cadabrar summon them and send them against him?

"Don't jump to conclusions Jessie. One favorite saying of the Lady's is from Sherlock Holmes. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth.

"What if the guy was looking for an apprentice to help keep these creatures at bay? The Lady is always fighting against the evil that wants to enter the world."

Then he looked through the west door, seeing that it led to the other condo he sighed and decided to put that off till later if he had to investigate it at all and then went to the northern double doors.

As Michael began to turn to the heavy pocket doors that were the focal point of the north wall, the phone in the kitchen began to ring.

It was only one of two phones they had noted in the condo. The other had been back in the maid's quarters.

Jessia sighed, she knew Michael was right. She was jumping to conclusions with simply circumstancial evidence. She needed more proof. For all she knew the Elvi were controlled by someone else or they chose him as thier fall guy or simply exploited an old magician. She punched her fist into the wall and let out a yelp more from shock than pain.

Rubbing her knuckles, she heard the phone break the silence. Jessica walked back to the kitchen and said at the phone, a red light came on as the ring blared out. It went out and the ring came with the light again. Stepping forward, Jessica walked up to the phone and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello?"

"Hello?" Came back a female voice with a pronounced mexican accent. "Who is this?" the voice continued hesitantly. "Did I call the right numer? Is Senor Reinquist back yet?"

One could hear a much less accented and younger voice in the background.

"Mamacita whats wrong? I dialed the number right? Is there some one there you don' know? Maybe he hired a new housekeeper...assstardo!"

The sound became muffled but not completely silenced. "Rico, hush. It's some woman!"

'shit', Michael muttered low and made his way over to where Jessie was at the phone. He waved his hands back and forth, 'Wrong number', he mouthed. The last thing they needed was to have someone calling the police for strange people being in this man's house.

Jessica froze, she had not expected this. The woman was definatly Mexican and Jessica wondered if she was someway related to the housemaid. She then heard a young, male voice...probably the woman's son or some other relation. She looked up to see Michael slashing his hand across his throat and mouthing 'wrong number' but Jessica knew this was thier only lead thus far of learning the location of Reinquist.

"You have the right number yet Mr. Reinquist is not here right now ma'am. I'm an accountant with the bank and I was suppose to discuss something with him earlier today yet he apparently hasn't been here all day so I had security open the door to let me call in. According to them he takes long vacations so it is possible for him to be away. May I have your name so I can write him a note?"

May I have your name so I can write him a note?"

"What? You are lying! Security would never let a stranger in. And Mr. Reinquist woiuld never had any one like you at his home! You are a burgular! I am calling nine one one this moment" The woman agitatedly hung up the phone with a bang.

"Fuck." Jessica said as she hung up the phone. She looked at Michael and knew he probably wasn't happy with her choice of picking up the phone but she knew he would even be lessed pleased with her cursing signifying the obvious.

"Bitch saw through...calling the cops. Upside is the storm outside is so thick you can't see two feet in front of your face so that gives us a larger window. So far this billionare fucker has only shown us he isn't here along with whoever else lives here with him or helps him and that he could be involved with the Elvi..but we dont' know. So...lets go check that last room behind the double doors."

'Shit, shit, shit', he mumbled. "Two areas, doors and stairs", he jogged over to the double doors on the north, pulling the large .44. Unlike his normally slow and careful movements he pushed open the door and stepped into the room beyond the northern double doors, the gun sweeping the room as he moved in.

Merry and Rivan cleaned up what little cooking mess they'd made in the kitchen and with a last few treats to the King of the Condo, they retired back to the bedroom.

"You know what I hate most about high rises like this? No fireplace. And a night like this in Houston is too rare to pass up almost. I hate having to hide!" Merry said agrily as she sat on the edge of the bed and looked up, suddenly disconsolate, at Rivan

"While I can't offer you a fireplace, save perhaps the stove and I believe whoever owns this place might object to that, perhaps we can go to the roof to watch the stars?" He suggested as he took a seat besider her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder to confort her, something he would have found nigh-impossible before arriving in Houston.

Merry nibbled on his ear with a chuckle. "Not a star visible though this storm, and even if we wrapped up in each other way too cold. I'd rather just cuddle with you here in thes admittedly very comfortable bed."

She lay back in the bed, sliding the covers aside so that Rivahn could join her and found herself yawning deeply. Even though she and Rivan had gotten a better sleep that they had expceted to have she was still internally exhausted fro the horrors they had found just a day ago.

"Come curl up with me love." She whispered, as she fought back another yawn.

The double doors were heavy, fully three solid inches thick, and imbued with the spells that kept the condo quiet and serene. They were properly ballanced on their rails and slid open easily despite their weight.

The room was almost as large as the spacious living room across from it, how ever all four walls were floor to celing book cases, and fill with hundreds if not more of neatly stacked books. Luxurious chairs made small seating groups in the south east and north east corners.

Close to the northwest corner was a massive desk with an large matching executives chair behind it (http://rencodesign.com/images/EgDesk2.jpg)

Closer to the doors, a long library table, flanked by a pair of comfortable chairs, stood, it's dark wood top hidden mostly beneath several stacks of open tomes and several candlabra with puddles of wax hiding their bases. Obviously the candles had been left to burn unattended, till they had burned completely down. There were also other items scattered about, a silver hand bell, a incense burner, a set of onyx handled daggers, three goblets of beaten gold, a large rock crystal ball, with no noticable flaws and a high quality color print out from a laser printer (http://www.bewildered-art.com/catgirls/extracurriculars/yuki.html), it has been defaced with the comment, sprawled across it in a bold male hand "I WANT"

But that is not what is the center of attention. That sits in the center of the library...

Three rings of elvi nested in concentric circles stand facing inward, singing in perfect harmony. One can not see what they are facing....

On the dense carpet, and acting as a 'boundry' of sorts is an inch wide ring of gold with gems inset and along it's surface deeply incised runes.

Jessica moved to Michael after he managed to open the doors. The beauty of the room didn't strike her as she saw the mass amounts of Elvi.

"Oh fuck me..."

Jessica stood there frozen, waiting for the horde to wash over her, Michael and Dilana. But, they kept singing in their circle and acted like the people nearby were not even there. Jessica looked around the library for a quick second, noting a sheet of paper on the table and the array of apparently magical stuff. Her eyes quickly went back to the Elvi.

"Okay...this is odd. But, we can say without a doubt he is connected to the Elvi." Jessica looked down and saw the band on the floor, it must be keeping them in. Taking a look at the sheet, Jessica very carefully began to work her way over to it. She paused after a few steps, looked at the Elvi, took another few steps, paused, looked, moved and kept the process up till she could lean forward and grab the sheet. With it in hand she made a more of a sprint back to Michael before she looked at it.

"Oh my God...this guy is insane. Look at that...some kind of a cat-woman. I must say if I could retain my tiger form all the time and talk like a person I would love to do that...course need something like a hologram or magic to mask me in public. But....I think...I think he wanted to make one and...blow me and fuck me....that is why they took my pelt."

"That sounds like an excellent idea." He replied as he smiled at her. Snuggling into the bed with her, he likewise shared a minor yawn. As she requested he curl up with her, he wrapped an arm around Merry's shoulders so they could rest in comfort with each other.

"Umm ... Dr Rhys ... do you have her num -- no, hang on, I think I've got it here."

Unfortunately Sian's phone was in her purse which had gotten kicked under a sofa in the goings on in Cains office, and no one heard it as it went to voice mail, requesting that the caller leave a message.

**************************
Sian's body had slumped back to the ground from its agonizing arch with a painful moan. Slowly she began to regain consciousness, a faint golden glow outlining her.

************************
Merry slipped gently into sleep, wrapped safe in Rivan's arms, as the storm pounded down on Houston.

Power outages occured here and there but even the terror that was the animalistic vampire lycan was forced to find shelter.

As they slept, a section of Merry's hair tickled Rivan's nose. This caused him to wake.

Once he'd woken up, he looked at Merry and whispered, before going back to sleep, "I love you Merry."

Michael looked at Jessica for a long moment and then gestured vaguely toward the Elvi with the useless gun.

"You know", he said to her, "I AM trying to do a job here. Regretfully all those wonderful sexual offers are going to have to wait and they are very distracting, so unless you want to offer this young lady here", he said gesturing towards Dilana, "a crash course in sex education then I suggest we get back to work."

Then he grinned and winked before over toward the Elvi to see what it was they were surrounding so intently.

Jessica looked at Michael a bit perplexed as he spoke and she blinked a little. When his face broke as a smile, she rolled her eyes and sighed. She looked over at Dilana. "Men."

She walked after him into the room and walked around the Elvi, they were wedged in there tight, shoulder to shoulder and she couldn't see through. Grabbing a chair, she stood on top of it and all she saw was the tops of the Elvi, but not what they were looking at.

The woman climbed down and extended the hand that held her gun. The barrel stopped cold, raising an eyebrow, Jessica tried to push but it was like pressing it into a brick wall. Nothing was happening. Scratching her skull, Jessica pushed again, once again with no effect.

"Uhhh...there seems to be...uhhh....a wall around them." She looked down at the gold band on the floor. "Do you guys know how to read runes?"

"Looks like a Thaumaturg circle. It's used to contain the summons, but it certainly doesn't seem to be working properly. Or something I'm unfamiliar with. I can't read the runes, that's what we have certain divisoins for at Defender's. Shame we can't call them in."

Jessica turned to Michael as she knelt on the carpet and turned back to the circle. She couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"What is a Thaumaturg circle? Do tell more."

"Well, that's the generic term. There are diviner's circles, summoner's circles, warding circles, etcetera, yadda and so forth.

Based on the visitors we have here", he said, nodding toward the elvi, "I would say that it was a summoner's circle, to be more specific. There tend to be two types. One keeps the summoned inside the circle to protect the summoner and everyone else. Basically the summoned as bidden to do something for the summoner and they tend not to like that too much. The other is where the summoner is inside the circle. Those are the really bad ones, because it typically means that the summoner is pissed at people in general and letting something loose. But what I can figure is why the Elvi are facing inward like that. Unless ...."

With that Michael began to search for a tall mirror that could give him the height and angle he needed to see.

There were several "built in" mirrors but they were all clamped securely to walls. However as he searched the taped chant suddenly stopped, and instantly so did the singing of the Elvi.

"Okay whose got the list?"
"Nomemon"
"Here, next item, behind door numbah tree...whs tiffany glass?
"Dunno, just have to find Tiffany an' ask her"

With that the Elvi turned semi transparent and sped from the circle intent on finding Tiffany for answers, ignoring all else about them. The minute crack in the gold band that allowed them to leave glowed brightly for a moment.

Jessica jumped back as she heard the Elvi speak. Tiffany glass? Must mean Tiffany's department store. Man they are stupid. She watched as they seemed to melt and zip from the circle and from sight. Her eye caught something, a breif glow on the ring. Moving up to it, she knelt and stared at the place she saw the glow come from. There, on the band seemed to be just another rune, yet as she leaned in closer, the thing lacked any relation the runes nearby. She licked her lips, it looked like a crack of some sort. Well...no sense in not trying.

Holding the Walther by the barrel, Jessica raised it above her head and slammed it down as hard as she could on the possible crack.

Merry slept on, snug in Rivan's arms, but after a time her sleep became restless despite their embrace. Dark images slowly filtered into her dreams, turning them from pleasant to nightmareish. Nightmares where in she was the prey, chased through twisted, unrecognizable landscapes by something she could never clearly see, whether she was on four legs or two.

As Merry began tossing and turning, she woke up Rivan. He knew she needed her sleep and thus began stroking her hair in an attempt to get her to calm down and return to a more peaceful sleep.

He had a pretty fair guess as to what the nightmare was about as his own dreams had been leaning toward the dark thoughts of the dark beast that had necessitated thier occupation of the apartment rather than the more comfortable abode of Merry's.

The circle of gold hattered as Jessica hammered down on it, the magical protections vanishing with an audible pop. The deep cold that had filled the circle spilled outward as well.

The sole occupant who didn't fill the massive chair that sat at the center of the circle never moved. He couldn't - for he had been dead for weeks.

Jessica shuddered as she felt the cold air rush over her body. The ring broke apart in her hand and she sat there holding a cold piece of gold. Damn, did not expect that to happen. This thing was damn weak. Oh well...all for Jessica. She started to grab bits of gold and gems off the floor when she noticed the shape of something in the circle of gold shards. Looking up, she gasped as she saw the corpse.

She stood, her mouth agape as she stared at the body. The man had been dead for a while yet the smell had yet to hit her.

"What...the fuck is this now?"

The body was that of a thin, pimply faced 20 something, wearing what he apparently considered proper mage garb - a long heavily embroidered robe. In his hands was clutched a small dicatphone type tape recorder.

He seemed as if he had just dropped off to sleep, there was not taint of decay about him

Jessica stood and stared at the corpse. "Fuck...this is one of the kids. One of the kids who send an application to this guy."

Though there was no decay on the body, there was a subtle skin distortion of paleness and the fact he wasn't breathing gave away he was very dead. She walked over to the body and removed the tape recorder and began to rewind it.

"So young. I wonder what happened."

The tape recorder rolled back a few turns, the little cog wheels moving slower and slower until barely a quarter of the way rewound, they stopped. Obviously the batteries were depleted after weeks of automated play and rewind.

Outside the storm howled and battered at the city. Inside was coolish and quiet.

Unfortunately Sian's phone was in her purse which had gotten kicked under a sofa in the goings on in Cains office, and no one heard it as it went to voice mail, requesting that the caller leave a message.

Damn! Lillian refilled Godolkin's mug and piled the toast before him, but didn't sit down to share with her guest. Instead she put the jug on to boil some water for a hot-water bottle and began rummaging round in the closet for the warm outer cover she'd made for Seklh's cat-carrier. It had a special pocket into which she could slip the hottie.

"I guess I knew all along it'd come to this," she said absently. As Godolkin turned politely to face her she hauled out a back-pack and the warmest clothing she could find.

"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to go back to the Steed," she apologised. "I'll just go get dressed, if you wouldn't mind keeping an eye on his lordship, there."

As Seklh had apparently decided that the big man had a comfortable lap, it was not too much to ask.

By the time she came back, Lillian was so well-insulated she couldn't bring her arms close to her sides; the bulky clothing made her feel like the Michelin Man. All the same, she was still able to reach down a book from her shelves and tuck it into the backpack.

"The omnibus edition of the Urban Elves stories," she told Godolkin. "I have a feeling I might need to consult it." She put the cheap Egyptian statuette
in, too, wrapping it in a pair of socks. Yes, I know you're not actually inside this thing, it's just to help me, okay?

"I've kept this packed ever since I started reading so much fantasy," she explained to her guest, gesturing to the back-pack. "People in books are always being swept off to places unprepared, so I decided I'd, well, be prepared." She felt a little shamefaced -- she really had been a bit of a bag-lady, hadn't she? Funny how her mind seemed clearer now. If you could call it clearer, getting ready to go off on a trip to a place that sane people didn't believe existed.

"I'll just call Jim -- no, maybe I'd better not. He'd be sure to want to come along, and he's not well enough yet." Deftly she scooped Seklh into the cat-carrier, fastened its warm covers and smiled shyly at Godolkin.

"I wonder if you'd be so kind as to escort me back to the lot?" she said. "I'm going to try something. I'm not asking you to get mixed up in it," she added hastily. "But it did help such a lot to have you to lean on through that wind, and it's not getting any better. Besides, from there you won't have far to go to the hospital and all your other duties."

She waited, cat-carrier in one hand, the other tucked into the back-pack strap, for Godolkin to put on his coat. All that could be seen of Lillian herself was the twinkling of her eyes between the furry flaps of her winter cap; the rest was a well-wrapped, shapeless bundle.

She felt a little mean, asking this nice young man to slow his pace to hers and support her through the storm. But she wouldn't be asking him for any more help. She wasn't going to use her old-lady frailty to trap him into coming on a probably fruitless quest.

Not unless he really, really wanted to, of course.

Jessica looked at the tape player in the lap of the corpse and picked it up. Flipping it over, she removed the batteries. She pressed her fingers on the two white circles on either end, the batteries were very much dead. Thinking, she moved swiftly back to the kitchen and rooted around in drawers for several minutes before finding a pack of spare batteries. There were just enough for this one reload.

Going back to the library, she placed the fresh batteries in, rewound the tape the rest of the way and pressed PLAY.

"I'll not allow you to proceed alone", Godolkin told her, though he wasn't comfortable with the fact that they were about to face something not human, but it's what he was made for. Besides she was looking for answers, and those same answers might be the reasons he was mixed up with the attacks to start with.

His preparation was unpleasant to watch. He removed an eyepiece from a pouch on his belt and placed it over his milky looking eye. Thin needles slid into the flesh around the eye and then snugged itself against it. Systems came online, allowing him to percieve in a varied range of spectrums and enhancing his already enhanced vision in both light and dark as well. Plates slid from the back of his partial armor, encasing him. Needles slid under the skin that would constantly test his blood for poisons and be able to counteract them or inject him with a variety of drugs to stimulate or help to heal. A helmet slid into place and he took a breath mask from another pouch, placing it over the lower part of his visible face. Once done only one could be seen, the rest encased in armor, his weapons prepared. The coat would never fit properly now.

He looked at Lillian, "Unto the breach, and may God watch over us in the battle to come."

"Well", Michael replied, "I don't know who he is or what happened but he's certainly seen better days." He watched as Jessica took the tape player and then got the batteries. "What if that thing summons the Elvi? I don't think they're exactly here to play a gig at the trump."

Jessica looked over at Michael as she pressed PLAY. "Then that is what we want. They were absorbed with this thing and the corpse when we entered so there is no doubt in my mind the same attraction will be here again. At any rate, I'll be standing near the door just in case."

Jessica placed the cassette player on the corpse where she had found it and moved back towards the door. She watched and waited as the tape began to play.

The first sign of the returning Elvi were the chatter that could be heard as they flowed back into the condo.

"No, I don't have any idea, oh daamn these blue suede shoes they pinch."

"Huh! Not as bad as this damn girdle does."

"He's gonna be so pissed, we didn't have any time to..."

"What's next on the list, something we can find I hope."

"Well wait one! Have a look boys..."

"Hey, where's the...?"

"Free. Free at Last!! Lets go home"

The semi corporeal Elvi all stopped short, looking goggle eyed at the current situation.

Jessica turned and looked at the Elvi in some shock and surprise. She had expected them to appear in the room and not fly through the apartment to them. If they had run, they could only run around the room till an opening opened at the door before slipping past the Elvi. But right now they seemed to be chatting amongst themselves and seemed more reoccupied by something that made them free than they were about Michael's, Dilana's and her presence. She gulped and spoke.

"Hello again. Remember me? I'm the woman you removed the white tiger pelt from a little while back. Been looking for you guys for quiet a while. Kinda wondering of who exactly you and who..." She jerked her thumb to the corpse and the broken gold ring on the floor "...that was and what the gold ring was."

"You did this?"

"Damn saved by the breaking of the ring."

"Come on guys lets go!"

"Oh boy home, my wives are gonna skin me for being gone so long, I was just spused to be out for a night with da boys"

"I'm beating feet as fast as the rest of ya!"

With that, and other comments, they were gone, vanishing as if they'd never had been...

"Next on the list", Michael said out loud. "They must have been finding things for him", and he nodded his head toward the deader on the chair. "And if that's the case, then maybe your pelt is around here somewhere."

"No wait!" Jessica called out to the Elvi. But it was too late. They were already gone. "You fucking bastards! I HATE FUCKING ELVIS! I HATE FUCKING ELVIS!"

Her cries of desperation sadly did not bring back the Elvi. Jessica dipped her head down, her pelt, her tiger, her immortality, her life was gone. She cocked her head to Michael as he spoke. She nodded and with a determined look in her eye she marched straight up to the corpse and stared at it. She wanted to smash in the skull, break it into dust and scatter it into the storm, but that could wait.

Jessica began to open every drawer and cabinet she could find in the library, looking in hope that her pelt was here somewhere in the condominium.

IHATE FUCKING ELVIS! I HATE FUCKING ELVIS!"




A ghostly voice called, the littlest Elvi, slowest too and just returning. "Don't hate Elvis, he was cool man, He's a saint now 'een. But you want your pelt?"

It grinned impishly at Jessica "And what would you give to get it back?"

Jessica wipped around at the little Elvi, her eyes were ablaze with anger and furry. The Elvi was lucky it wasn't solid...or else Jessica would have been right on top of it splattering its blood and limbs across the room.

She moved towards the Elvi and stared down at it. All the while trying to compose herself. "I want my pelt. Your master...or whatever the hell he was has croaked and there is no need it. And what could you want anyway? I should also be asking what are you anyway. You're too small to be da King."

Michael watched the exchange, trying to hide a grin. He had a tendency of being light hearted in difficult situations and it irritated people. But he had learned that if he didn't laugh at things he'd go nuts. Or back to the bottle.

The littlest Elvi shrugged his semi transparent shoulders philosophically "I gotta ask for something, it's da law. And I know places where a lovely pelt like that would be worth something!" He whined trying to look pathetic, which he really rather did.

"I wouldn't ask much...say I'd trade for the peices of the circle. Gold worth a Lot!" He said wide eyed, as he spied the pieces of the summoning circle laying on the plush carpet

Jessica looked behind her at the gold bits of the circle and then back at the little Elvi and shrugged. She quickly gathered them up, but at first she choked down the urge not to do it. All the money she could ever dream of was right there. Then again, she desperatly wanted her pelt back. Once she had collected them all, she turned back to the Elvi.

"You can have it. But I want my pelt first."

He nodded eagerly, eyeing the gold with a fair amount of greed. With a flourish of his hands Jessica's pelt appeared on the wide desk in the far northwest corner of the library, and the gold disappeared from her hands.

With a grin he evaporated before her eyes.

Jessica felt the gold leave her hands and she quickly looked around the room. There, on the desk was her white tiger pelt. She ran up to the desk and picked it up with tears in her eyes, feeling the soft fur again. She had it back. But then reality hit her.

She had no idea how to get it back in her, how to regain her weretiger form. Jessica tried not to think about it as she looked about the room, her chest full of butterflies.

"Okay. We need to find a book. Something about weretigers or werewolves or any other kind of shapeshifter. Or find someone who can make me back to what I was. Cause I have no idea in hell how to."

He looked at Lillian, "Unto the breach, and may God watch over us in the battle to come."

"Uhh ... I guess so," replied Lillian, eyeing Godolkin's preparations uneasily. She didn't think you were supposed to start a Quest feeling more scared of your partner than of your possible opponents.

He's a nice lad at heart, she told herself firmly. Locking the door to her apartment, she led the way quietly down the steps, careful not to disturb Jim, and out into the storm.

The battle to get to the hot-rodders' lot left her so exhausted, even with Godolkin to support her and carry Seklh, that she slid into the relative shelter of the battered car that disguised the Elven Steed without even a thought of the ominous stains within. The cold seemed to have wiped out the smell, too -- or perhaps her nose had simply frozen off? At this stage, all Lillian wanted was to sit down.

A faint mew from behind drew her attention back to what was going on around her. Godolkin had deposited Seklh's carrier on the back seat. Now she noticed, to her surprise, that seatbelts had snaked out to secure it. The padded front had come unzipped -- Godolkin again? -- and the cat's curious face pressed up against the transparent inner cover.

Taking a deep, determined breath, Lillian made her gloved hands fasten on the steering wheel. She remembered reading somewhere that speaking aloud helped make non-telepaths easier to read; it forced them to concentrate on their meaning. Well, she was as non-telepathic as you could get.

"O Steed!" she began, feeling silly. "We are friends. We want to help you. We think a great wrong has been done to you and those you care for. We seek help for a young Elf named Cyrian. Please tell us what we can do or take us to wherever we can get the help and right the wrong."

There may have been a tickle in her brain. There was no verbal response. But windows slid slowly up. Locks clicked. Lillian felt panicky; what if they couldn't get out when they needed to? She felt the hiccuping cough of a very, very sick engine vibrate through the car. A thread of warm air snaked around her ankles -- the car had turned on the heaters. Slowly, jerkily it began to move, Lillian with her hands resting on the wheel but doing nothing, her feet seeking pedals that weren't there, her eyes fixed on traffic that she was powerless to join or avoid.

But the car seemed to know what it was doing. Certainly the fact that it was moving at all proved that her insane idea had been right, right! She was sitting in, or possibly on, a genuine Elven Steed! Accompanied by a -- whatever Godolkin was (a very competent protector, anyway) and a cat.

She was still thinking over that situation (why had she brought poor Seklh on the sort of journey this was likely to be?) when the car indicated a turn and pulled in smoothly to a.. a gas station? The answer to their problems was here?

They pulled up conveniently close to a pump and she heard the gas-tank's cap click open. Of course, she told herself dazedly. The poor thing's hungry. Cars eat petrol.

Certainly, as they pulled out after she had numbly filled the tank and paid for it, the Steed seemed to be running more confidently. Lillian didn't want to think it over in too much detail. Otherwise she'd find herself speculating on the effect of all that gasoline in a horse's stomach. Not that it was really a horse, but ...

She'd reached that point in her speculations when the car pulled up outside her apartment.

Lillian felt a killing disappointment. Was she supposed to get out? Did it just want Godolkin? Wasn't she allowed on the Quest, then? Go, dammit! she told the Steed. But it just sat, and the driver's door unlocked.

It took eighty years to get out. That's how old Lillian felt. She must be that old, if she was too old for adventure. She'd been rejected by the most magical thing ever to happen to her because she was too old! Why couldn't this have come her way when she was young and yearning for just such a thing?

"Hand me Seklh, will you, lad?" she croaked; obviously he wouldn't want a cat holding him back.

But the seatbelts refused to unfasten. They clung to the cat-carrier despite Godolkin's best efforts. And her own seat-belt flapped agitatedly, as did the passenger set in the back seat behind the driver. Lillian stared blankly.

"Another ... passenger?" she asked finally.

The seatbelts settled down, each fastening securely, for a moment holding the shape of an invisible body. The one on the driver's seat, she noted, somehow described a small, thin, feminine shape. But the one in the back was waiting for someone larger, much, much bulkier, definitely masculine ...

"I think there'll be a slight delay, if you want to, um, attend to anything," she told Godolkin. First, practicality to the fore, she took her own advice; then, drying her newly washed hands, she walked down to Jim's door and knocked gently.

So the thoroughly practical building manager and his inevitable monkey-wrench were fated to be part of some fantasy trip to the mystic lands of Faerie?

This was going to take some explaining.

Godolkin seemed relaxed through the ride and generally unaffected by the weather. Once they stopped he seemed a bit concerned about the seatbelt situation, but once they were clear of the vehicle he seemed more relaxed, having already accepted what took place with a warrior's calm confidence. When Lilian told him to relax he simply stood by, quite comfortable in an alert stance, while relaxing his mind and preparing for what may lay ahead.

(Just to let anyone know who may not, Tanara may be gone a few days. She was having some difficulties and had to go to the hospital. She didn't know what they might do or what may or may not be required of her. Thank you for your patience.)