This, she realized belatedly, was probably the wrong way to go about it.
She tried to pull up from the fall, but the long moments of timeless floating had been swallowed by the inevitable march of microseconds into seconds, seconds into minutes. Time sped on again; accelerated. There was no stopping the momentum of her fall now that it had begun again. All she could do was angle herself towards the river beside her friends, but for all the panicked flapping of her arms, she fell straight and sure in the wrong direction.
She was going to miss the river. She was going to land directly on top of Kate and the others.
She cried Kate’s name again, this time in warning, saw her friend look around herself puzzedly, and then it was too late for Jacky to do anything but close her eyes and tense herself against the coming impact.
She knew it was the wrong thing to do. She should be concentrating on relaxing her muscles, but they were bunched so tight she couldn’t even breathe, little say let up the knots of her tension.
It was dark by the time Henk reached the beach of flat stones where he’d found Johnny the previous night.
It was still early in the evening and he could hear the traffic on the nearby thoroughfares, but here in the park he felt entirely cut off from the city that surrounded him. He started at little noises, and had the feeling that he was being watched from all sides. It was patently ridiculous, of course, but Johnny had filled his head with those stories about goblins in the park, and all grown up and matured as he was, Henk found himself returning to a childhood fear.
He’d always been terrified of the dark.
It was something he’d had to work hard at to get rid of this uncontrollable fear that there were bogeymen out in the shadows, just waiting to tear him apart. He’d grown up outside the city, in a rural area where, when night fell, it came like a black curtain. He used to have fights with his father about it back then. One night in particular he could call up with disturbing clarity. He’d forgotten to put the garbage out by the road that afternoon and, because the garbage collectors came at dawn, he’d had to go put it out in the dark.
It had been his own fault. He should have remembered. But he hadn’t, and he couldn’t face the walk down the lane to the road. Even with the light on by the garage, it was too much. Its light only went so far. Shadows pooled beyond its reach, thick on the route he had to take, and he just couldn’t do it.
He was twelve years old. At that age he knew how stupid it was to feel like that. But the unreasoning fear wouldn’t go away and he’d wept as his father made him go out and do it. By the time he got to the road, loaded down with the unwieldly pair of aluminum cans, he was sobbing uncontrollably.
The bogeyman hadn’t gotten him that night, but the darkness had lodged itself inside him even deeper than before, so that years later he might be walking down a street at night and suddenly be hit by that same blind panicking fear.
Last night he’d been fine. He’d been worried about Johnny, looking for him, finding him. No problem. He hadn’t even thought about it. But tonight. It was just too quiet. Too dark. And Johnny had been too serious about the things he said he’d seen.
All bullshit, of course.
But what if? Just what if?
People did disappear snap! Just like that. Going out for some milk to the corner store and never coming back. Ordinary people, with no problems, no reason to drop everything in their lives and just take off. Vanished. Into the night.
So maybe a supernatural answer was unfounded. Sure, it was all bullshit anyway right? But what about your plain, everyday psycho? Some serial killer, hiding in the bushes. In the shadows.
Christ, why did the darkness seem to be watching him?
Henk knew he was cursed with an overactive imagination. He just wished he could figure out how it got turned on, what kicked it in. That way he might be able to shut it off.
He stared across the river to the lights of the university. Mist was rising from the water again tonight another too-cool night following a warm day. That was all it was. Nothing mysterious about it. Just the natural order of things. Like the darkness. The sun was on the other side of the planet, that was all. Nothing creepy about that. Nothing hiding in the shadows, waiting for him
.
He froze, staring at a clump of trees by the bicycle path.
He’d heard something. He was sure he’d heard something. He took a step forwards, determined to walk right up to the trees and get rid of this bad case of the nerves that was giving him the heebie-jeebies.
“Johnny,” he called softly. “Is that you, man? Jemi?”
He took another step forwards and that was when a tall shadow detached itself from the darker bulk of trees and moved towards him. Henk stared at the figure, not willing to accept what he was seeing. It was a tall black woman with a horsey face, entirely nude, nightmares burning in her eyes.
Henk wanted to bolt, but he just couldn’t move. He remembered Johnny describing this woman to him. She’d been with the crowd of faerie that had encircled Johnny last night. Right here. On this beach.
He shot terrified glances from the corners of his eyes, looking for more of the creatures, but he and the woman were alone.
“I am weary to death of your kind,” the woman said.
And then she changed.
There was a moment when her features seemed to melt into each other, when she became a swirl of shadow. The spin of the air made Henk dizzy and he stumbled back, slipped on a stone, and tumbled to the ground. When he looked up again, the woman was gone and a huge black horse was in her place.
It snorted, breath wreathing from its nostrils in the cooling air. Prancing in place, its hooves made a clatter against the stones. And then it reared up above him, forelegs cutting the air.
Henk scuttled out of the way of the dropping hooves, too panicked to even try to get to his feet. He just churned his arms and legs and moved like a crab across the stones.
The horse reared again.
All Henk could see was its eyes. That’s what scared him the most. The horse’s eyes were the same as the woman’s had been. They were her eyes.
He didn’t want to think about what that meant. But the part of him that had always succumbed to his childhood fears was chanting, It’s real, it’s real, it’s real
.
The bogeyman had turned out to be a woman and she’d finally come to get him.
With the coming of twilight, Kate and the others buttoned the appropriate ribbons to their jackets and made ready to cross Windsor Park. She felt weird looking at her companions, knowing that she looked the same as they did.
Bogans were an unpleasant sort, and all of a kind. They had dark oily skin, wrinkled like old leather, and greasy yellow hair. Broad and squat, their wide heads sat on their shoulders without the benefit of necks. Their eyes were narrow, noses flat, and for clothing all they wore were animal skins tied around their waists. And they stank.
Kate wrinkled her nose at the smell that was a part of Finn’s enchantment.
“Are we all ready?” Gwi asked.
Kate started to nod, but then she heard it.
At first it didn’t register. When she realized it was her own name being called, she looked around, trying to find out where the sound was coming from for it was Jacky’s voice that she heard. And it wasn’t coming from very far away.
“That’s” she began.
Before she could finish, there came a loud fwhuft of displaced air and a small familiar figure appeared in the middle of where they stood, tottered for a moment, then collapsed in a heap on the ground.
“It’s Jacky!” Kate cried.
Jacky looked up at the sound of her name, but then she frantically began to sidle away from the trio.
“Gagh!” she mumbled. “Bogans.”
Kate ran over to her, which only made Jacky increase her attempts to get away.
“It’s okay, Jacky,” Kate said. “It’s us. We’re just disguised.”
J
acky studied her nervously, obviously puzzled by the sound of Kate’s voice coming from the ugly mouth of a bogan. Then another sound came, this time from the direction of the Tower, and they all froze. It was an outraged roar a howl that sent a shiver up their spines. Looking towards the Tower, they could see bogans and sluagh streaming out into the park.
“Quick!” Gwi cried. “Finn, get a button on the Jack’s coat and give her your headband.”
The forester had a voice that was obviously used to commanding and to being obeyed. Before Finn could even question her orders, he found himself doing as she’d asked. He tore the button off his jacket and immediately began stitching it to Jacky’s shirt. Gwi took off Finn’s headband and fitted it to Jacky’s head.
“No one speaks but me,” she said.
“This won’t work,” Kate protested. “Finn won’t be disguised.”
“All Finn has to do is pretend he’s frightened. We’re three bogans and we’ve caught him for our supper.”
“I won’t have to pretend,” Finn muttered as he tied off his thread. “It’s good to see you, Jacky,” he added as he attached the ribbon from her headband to the newly attached button.
Her form wavered and a bogan’s shape took its place. They were not a moment too soon. The nearest bogans had almost reached the lip of the riverbank where they were hiding.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Gwi cried.
Her voice was deep and very bogan-like so much so that when she grabbed Finn, he struggled against her in earnest.
“You’ll not get away from us so quick,” Gwi went on. “Hot damn!”
Kate and Jacky exchanged glances, remembering the times they’d been in the clutches of bogans and it hadn’t been “let’s pretend.”
Before either of them could speak, real bogans appeared at the top of the riverbank.
“Whatcha got there?” the foremost one demanded.
“Supper, arsebreath,” Gwi replied. “Are you blind?”
“Give us a leg.”
“Get spiked.”
The bogan growled and was about to start down towards them when his companion grabbed his arm.
“The Jack’s escaped,” he told Gwi.
He glanced at Kate and Jacky. Kate put a fierce look on her face and almost grinned when the bogan took a half-step back. Now that Jacky was safe, so to speak, she thought, this could almost be fun.
“The boss won’t like you snacking when there’s work to be done,” the second bogan added. “Put you in his bad books, he will.”
“I can’t read, so what do I care?” Gwi replied.
“Haw! That’s rich. Can’t read.”
The bogan nudged his companion, but the first of the pair was still scowling and looking hungrily at Finn.
Gwi dragged Finn protectively closer. Pushing him to the ground, she put her foot on the hob’s neck and glared at the bogans.
“Whatcha staring at, shithead?” she demanded.
Kate made a snorting sound and stepped nearer to Gwi.
The two bogans retreated. Among their kind, bravado ruled.
“Save us a bite,” the first bogan said, trying to save some face.
“I’ll save you his arse,” Gwi told him.
“Haw!” The second bogan was having a good time. “That’s richer. They’ll save his arse for you, Groot.”
Groot snarled. “Get your own arse in gear, Lunt.
There’s work to do the boss is waiting and you don’t want that, hot damn.”
The retreated from the lip of the rise and fared on. Kate was ready to collapse with laughter.
“We did it!” she cried. “Did you see their faces? I thought”
“Whisht,” Gwi said. “We must be gone and quick. Those bogans won’t be gone long. They’ll search awhile, but their stomachs will soon send them back here to see if they can’t beg a piece of the hob from us. We’ve got to be gone by then.”
“Where will we go?” Kate asked.
“My hollow’s close,” Finn offered.
Gwi considered that. “Too close.”
“The Court?” Kate tried.
“That’s no good either. We’ll want to be free to move and they’ll be watching the Court now. We might get in, but we’d never get out again unseen.”
“What is going on?” Jacky asked. “Has everyone gone mad?”
“It’s too long to tell you it all,” Kate said. “But your gruagagh’s not what you think he”
“I know just the place!” Finn broke in.
“Where?” Gwi asked.
“Never you mind. What isn’t spoken can’t be overheard. Just follow me.”
Gwi regarded him for a moment, then shrugged. “All right. But you two,” she added to Kate and Jacky. “You keep those bogan shapes on until we’re somewhere safe. That droichan will have your scents and it won’t be more than a moment’s work to track you down if you take off your disguises.”
“Droichan?” Jacky asked.
“I’ll explain it all to you later,” Kate said.
“I feel like I’ve come in at the middle of a movie.”
“You’re not far off.”
Finn had already set off and they all hurried along behind him three bogans chasing a hob.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” Kate told Jacky between breaths. “We were just about to storm the Tower, looking for you. That’s why we’re wearing these disguises.”
Jacky wrinkled her nose. “I hope Finn can stitch us something not so smelly when he’s got a chance.”
“There’s gratitude.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Jacky replied. “Don’t mind me I’m just a little stunned from it all.”
Kate glanced at her. “How did you pop in out of nowhere like that?”
“That’s my long story that I’ll tell you later.”
They conserved their breath then to keep up with Finn and the forester. As she trotted along, Jacky went back over the last few moments after she’d jumped out of the window. It seemed that the gruagagh had inadvertently showed her yet another of the Tower’s magics one that made sense, too. If all of Kinrowan was in one’s responsibility, one would want to be able to reach any part of it as quickly as possible in case of an emergency. By that reckoning, she wondered, there should also be a quick way back. So how did that work?
“Beam me up, Scotry,” she muttered.
“What?” Kate asked.
Jacky shook her head. “I’m just thinking about teleportation,” she said.
“Oh, is that all? I thought it was something more humdrum, like reliving old episodes of Star Trek in a moment of danger.”
Jacky grinned. “It’s good to see you again, too, Kate.”
They slowed down once they were out of the park and a few blocks north of the Tower, but Gwi would let no one remove their disguise. She kept her own on as well.
“He’ll be looking for you, too,” Gwi said when Kate complained. “And besides, we don’t have it so bad as Finn. He’s got to both smell and look at us.”
It was an hour or so later that Finn brought their roundabout journey to a halt in the shadows under the MacKenzie King Bridge. He knocked on the stone wall, a sharp rap, rap, rap,
“Who lives here?” Jacky asked.
“My friend Gump,” Finn said.
As he spoke, Gump’s bulk stepped out of the stones and peered down at them. Jacky and Kate took quick steps back until they were up against the railing by the canal.
“He’s a trow,” Finn added unnecessarily.
“Now, here’s a strange sight,” Gump boomed. “Dunrobin Finn in the company of three bogans.”
“They’re not what they seem,” Finn said.
The trow nodded. “Nothing ever is.” He waved to the stones. “Come along inside. I know there’s a tale behind what I see here, and I’d rather hear it in comfort than stand out here with the mist curling up at my toes.”
Jacky and Kate regarded the stone wall with misgivings, but Finn waved them through.
To their surprise, they didn’t run smack up against the stones, but passed right through them. Finn and Gwi followed Gwi removing her disguise and Gump brought up the rear.
“I hope I can get the bogan smell out again,” the trow muttered to himself.
Then he remembered that he was playing host. He put a smile on his face and led the way down the tunnel to the big hollowed-out room that was his home. Everything was oversized the chairs around the big table, the hearth with its cookware hanging from its stone mantel, the worktable along one wall where Gump pursued his hobby of making mechanical birds, the bookcases which held hundreds of his creations as well as a small library of bird books, and his big four-poster bed.
“Who’d like tea?” he asked.
A chorus of yesses sent him to the water barrel. He lifted its lid, dipped in a kettle, and set it hanging above the coals in the hearth. Drops of water hissed and spat as they fell from the kettle. Kate and Jacky seated themselves on the edge of his bed. Gwi climbed onto a chair. Finn remained standing, looking up at his friend.
“This is very kind of you,” Kate said.
“Mmmmm,” Gump replied.
He studied the pair of them on his bed and wrinkled his nose.
“If you’re wearing those shapes as a means of disguising your essence as well as your looks,” he said, “there’s no need in here. A trows home is always shielded against magic.”
Kate undid her button and showed Jacky how to undo hers. Then she hopped off the bed and studied her face in the bottom of one of the trow’s shiny pots.
“Thank God for that,” she said. “I was beginning to feel the way I smelled.”
“A marked improvement now,” Gwi said with a smile.
“So what’s the to-do?” Gump asked.
He looked at Finn, but the hob shrugged.
“There’s more than one tale to tell before it’s all untangled,” Finn said. “I think Kate should start off, since she knows the most.”
Oh, no, Kate thought.
She shot Jacky a quick glance. Now she’d have to tell Jacky about using the wallystane. She touched Caraid in its bag at her side, gave Finn a withering look which he ignored, then started to tell what she knew.