Edward closed the book slowly, as if doing so quickly would cause it to explode, and slid it away. He’d expected to find at least some similarities between cultural faerie stories and fact, but there didn’t seem to be any. Shakespeare didn’t even get the names right.
He pulled off his glasses, put his head down on the desk, and tried to get a handle on the situation. The twinge of curiosity—and, he had to confess, excitement—at the thought of all this happening was gone now. In fact, it was taking a determined effort to keep from curling into a fetal ball and wetting himself.
A sound from the living room brought his head up with a snap. He got to his feet and stopped in the study doorway.
Caitlin was stirring on the couch.
He looked at his watch, then out the large window in the living room. It was still dark and at least a few hours until sunrise. Kris was still sleeping soundly.
“No, no, no. You’re not supposed to wake up yet,” he whispered.
Caitlin grunted as she opened her eyes and looked around. She blinked repeatedly and looked around again. Confusion settled on her face as she drew her knees up to her chest.
“What’s going on? Where am I?”
Edward knelt next to the couch, taking her hand in his. “Easy. It’s okay. I’m here.”
“Eddy?” She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “What? What are you doing here? Where am I?”
“You’re at, uh, my house.”
“What happened to your hand?”
Edward moved his bandaged hand away. “It’s nothing, I just cut myself. Listen, you’ve had a, well, a bad night. What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Bad night? What are you talking about?” She tried to stand up, but her eyes closed and she started to wobble.
“Don’t push yourself.” He helped her sit back down and propped a pillow up behind her.
She looked around again. “Wait, your house? What am I doing at your house? How’d I get here?”
Edward scratched his head. “Well, it’s kind of a long story. I think it’d be best, right now anyway, for you to concentrate on what you recall.” He leaned in closer, squeezing her hand. “What can you remember?”
Caitlin put her free hand to her head and closed her eyes. “I, um.” She swallowed. “God, I have a splitting headache. I didn’t think I drank that much.”
“Here.” Edward handed her a bottle of water and a couple of Tylenol he’d gotten out earlier.
She took the pills and emptied the bottle in a series of deep gulps. She set it down, then held her head. “I feel like I got hit by a—” She winced. “By a . . .”
“A what?”
She looked at Edward, as if by trying hard enough she’d find the answer in his eyes. “Last thing I remember, I was out with the girls. I don’t think I got drunk, but . . .” She ran her hand through her hair. “Weird things had been happening all night. I remember leaving and then, I, uh, I got stopped by a couple of kids.”
“Good, go on.”
“They tried to mug me, or something. No, I think they were going to take me—” Her eyes went wide. “Oh God, Eddy! Fiona!” She gripped Edward’s shoulders. “I have—”
“Breathe,” Edward said, knowing he had to act fast to stop her from hyperventilating and passing out. “You have to slow down your breathing.” He ran to the kitchen and retrieved a fresh bottle of water. “Here, drink this, slowly.”
The bottle shook as she lifted it. After a couple of swallows, her breathing began to return to normal. Her eyes were still wide, but her face had turned to stone.
“It’s a blur. Eddy, where’s Fiona?”
Edward opened his mouth to speak.
“Where’s my baby? Something’s happened to her. I can’t remember what, but I know.”
“Well.” He hesitated. “She’s—”
Caitlin’s face went pale. “She’s dead. I saw her body—”
“You what?”
“No.” Caitlin shook her head. “No, that’s not right. I mean, I did, but it was wrong. I remember seeing her, but I know . . .”
“She’s not dead. They took her.”
“They took her?” She paused, and then her mind engaged. “They took her! We have to call the police. Where’s your phone? Wait, you already called them, right?”
“Well, no—”
“What? Why not? We need to call them, right now. Your phone?” She made to stand again, but her legs gave out and she fell back down.
“Easy. Normally, I’d agree with you.” He was struggling to find the right words. He’d told people their worldviews and concepts of reality were wrong before, but Caitlin wasn’t one of his schizophrenic patients. “Under typical circumstances, I would’ve been the first to call, you know that, but this isn’t typical. Caitlin, they can’t help us.”
At the sound of her name, she seemed to snap out of it a little more.
“The things I need to tell you, well, they relate to that. I promise you, we’re going to get her back. In fact, Brendan is already out there, trying to find her.”
“Who?”
“Brendan, do you remember him?”
“No—” She furrowed her brow. “Wait, I know that name. I, I can’t place it though.” She put her hand to her head. “Jesus, did they drug me?”
“Sort of.” Edward gently touched her cheek and turned her face to look at him. “Brendan? Do you remember him? He helped you when you got attacked?” he said.
“Big Irish guy with scars?” She started to laugh. “No, he can’t be helping. Eddy, he said they were—” She shook her head and laughed again. “He said they were faeries.”
Edward cleared his throat. “It turns out he was telling the truth.”
“What? No.” Her smile faded. “No! This is a joke, right? Where’s Fiona?”
Edward looked down.
She scowled. “No! There’s no such thing as faeries!” Shaking hands went to her face and through her hair. “That’s insane, faeries aren’t real! Eddy, this isn’t funny. Where’s Fiona? Where is she?” Tears began to run down her cheeks.
“Brendan’s out looking for her—”
“Some stranger is looking for my little girl and you’re okay with that? Are you insane? What is going on?” She pushed him away. “Tell me, damn it!”
“I would’ve gone, but I had to stay here and look after you and Kris.” He looked at his watch, then back up at Caitlin. “And, well, he knows more about all this than I do.”
“He knows more about this? What’s that mean? He knows more about what? Kidnapping little girls?”
“No! Faeries, he knows more about faeries.” Edward lifted his hands. “Caitlin, please, focus on what I’m saying, this is important, okay? I know it’s hard to believe, but tonight you were attacked by faeries. Oíche-sidhe.”
“What the hell is that?” She covered her ears. “No! Stop it! Just stop, we don’t have time for this! We have to—”
“Caitlin,” he said with more force in his voice. He pulled her hands from her ears, then held them tight. “This is me, okay? Are you listening?”
She swallowed and looked at him. Anger still burned in her eyes, but she squeezed his hands, and not in an attempt to break them.
“Everything that can be done is being done,” he said, never breaking eye contact. “I swear to you, if I thought we could do anything more, we’d be doing it. I’d be doing it. Now, please, this might really help. I need you to think back, concentrate. The kids, was there anything strange about them?”
“Why?”
“Just humor me.”
Caitlin sighed. After a brief pause, her mouth closed and she blinked.
“What is it?”
“Their eyes.”
“What about them?”
“They were all black.” She gestured around her face. “No whites, no iris, nothing, just all black.”
“Good, anything else?”
The color started to drain from her face. “Their teeth.”
“All of them were pointed?”
She nodded.
“Pale skin? Angular features? Very pretty? Too pretty, in fact?”
“How did you—”
“Oíche-sidhe.” He swallowed. “Dark faeries.”
“They were after me.” She put her hands to her mouth. “No, they weren’t. Dear God in heaven, faeries took my little girl.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I remember. I fought them, but I couldn’t stop them. They took her.” She hugged herself and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Eddy, they took her from my arms.”
“I know this is hard—”
“You know?” Her eyes turned to steel and bored into him. “Really? How’s that? Has your daughter been taken? Was it by faeries?”
Edward winced. “No, but—”
“No!” she shouted. “She’s my daughter, not yours! I’m all she has and I need to find her.”
“You’re not all she has,” Edward said in a whisper, but Caitlin didn’t hear him and stood up. “Wait! Where are you going?” Edward grabbed her shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” She turned on him, pointing a finger. “Stay here if you want. Trust Brendan if you want. I’m going to find my daughter!”
“No! You can’t leave.”
“Oh, really? Watch me.” She started walking to the door.
Desperation ran through Edward. When her hand was less than an inch away from the doorknob, he felt a flood of power rush through him.
“Peidio!”
Magic enveloped Caitlin and she stopped, frozen in place, hand hovering above the knob.
Heart-stopping dread clawed at his stomach. “Caitlin?”
It was as if someone had pressed the pause button. There weren’t even the telltale signs she was breathing. Not even her eyes moved.
He started pacing. “What have I done? I’m so sorry, Caitlin. I, I didn’t mean to, I just—” He pointed to the door. “You can’t—”
A glance at her eyes told him that although they didn’t move, emotion and consciousness were behind them.
He put his hands behind his head, trying to figure out how to undo what he’d done. Of course, he’d first have to figure out what it was he’d done. Dedicated focus, and he’d botched a scrying spell. Panic, and he’d hexed Caitlin into a statue.
Well done, Nghalon said.
“Shut up! That’s not helping.”
There is a practical side to consider. You kept her from going outside. The minor consequence of her entire sense of reality collapsing, then being frozen by her friend the wizard . . . well . . . that doesn’t even merit considering.
“Knock it off,” he said and looked at Caitlin.
She couldn’t move, but the look in her eyes made his heart twinge and he felt his resolve harden. “I’ll figure out what I did and undo it. But first, you need to listen.”
With Caitlin like a statue, and a literal captive audience, he recounted the events of the evening; meeting Brendan, bringing her and Kris to his house for protection. He told her everything.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll fix this. The paralyzing thing, I mean. Wait here.” He winced. “I mean, I’ll be right back.” He went into his study.
It took the better part of half an hour, but he found what he needed. A section of an old book, in Latin no less, explained the deconstruction of magical effects. He returned to the living room and lifted his hand. Reaching out with his magical senses, he felt the spell surrounding her. Slowly and carefully, he began to pull it apart. After several tense moments, he heard a faint popping sound.
Caitlin jerked her hand back from the handle.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident,” he said as he stepped close, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. “You see, there’s wards, and if you—”
She punched him in the face, really, really hard.
Edward fell back and landed on the floor, glasses askew. Caitlin’s fists were clenched, and her eyes burned with anger.
“You son of a bitch.” She took a step forward.
Edward backed away as he straightened his glasses.
“Listen very carefully. You’re going to answer some questions,” she said. “If I find out that you or that Brendan guy had anything to do with this, I swear to God, I will kill you both.”
Edward wiped blood from his nose, then looked up at her. “I’d help you do it.”