The Turn: The Hollows Begins With Death

  “I saw you on TV this afternoon,” Quen said, then pushed her back to arm’s length, his head cocked and a smile on his face as he looked her up and down in the light spilling out onto the porch. “You did great.”

  “I was nervous,” she said as she touched her helix necklace, still around her neck. Beaming, she led him in. “Thank you for the necklace. It went perfect with the outfit. It came yesterday, just in time.”

  “Yesterday? I sent it three weeks ago. I should have just brought it in my suitcase.”

  “You want some iced tea?” she said, voice going distant. “I baked yesterday. I’ve gotten pretty good at cookies, if nothing else. Is that jacket leather? I like it.”

  The door shut, muffling Quen’s response.

  Daniel slumped, the flowers in his grip now looking banal even as his resolution to give them to her strengthened. He’d give the two a moment, then knock, telling them he’d been in the barn looking for her. That it wasn’t Kal was a relief.

  “You look good.” Quen’s voice came out the kitchen window along with the familiar sounds of ice knocking into glass. “Not just outside, but inside. Have you met someone?”

  “No,” Trisk said, much to Daniel’s surprise, but what sister tells her brother everything? “Daniel is starting to become a problem, though,” she added, and Daniel froze. She’d talked to her brother about him? “He’s wickedly smart. Quirky sense of humor. He respects me.”

  And that’s a problem? Daniel mused, confused.

  “He’d better,” Quen muttered, the tinkle of something spilling over ice loud.

  “I haven’t encouraged him,” Trisk said quickly. “But he’s nice and—”

  “The man you were sent to spy on,” Quen interrupted dryly. “That is so classic.”

  Spy? Daniel eased deeper into the shadows, his flowers drooping to touch the porch.

  “Stop it,” Trisk protested, and Daniel could almost see her frown. “I’m not doting on him, but he’s a good man, and I don’t want to hurt him.” The sliding sound of a plate scraped out into the night, then Trisk’s voice, softer. “He thinks Kal is taking advantage of me.”

  “So do I,” Quen said, ice clinking as he presumably took a drink. “How is that going? Your last letter wasn’t very forthcoming.”

  “Because I don’t trust Kal not to read my mail,” Trisk said, and Daniel heard a chair being pulled out from under the counter between the kitchen and living room. “I had lunch with him this afternoon, and we already set up lunch tomorrow. The doofus thinks I’m eating out of his hand. If nothing else, dating him has helped with Daniel. Try one of the cookies. Good?”

  Cold spilled over Daniel. Trisk was an industrial spy? Working at Global Genetics to steal methods and techniques for another lab? But she’d given information, not stifled it. She’d helped him with innovative techniques he’d never seen before. Techniques no one had ever seen before. She has no published articles and a pretty face to open doors, he thought suspiciously. Someone as good as her should be widely published. Unless she was trying to stay unnoticed.

  “I’m sorry Kal put you in this position,” Quen said, and Daniel looked past the edge of the building, drawing back slightly when he saw Trisk facing him, sitting at the tall counter with a plate of cookies between her and Quen, her angular face eager in anticipation as Quen ate one. Quen stood in the kitchen across from her, the cookie lost in his knobby hand. His back was to Daniel, every inch of his suit pressed and perfect and his dress shoes gleaming.

  “Kal is a total jerk,” Trisk said, her attention dropping into her half-empty glass as Quen obediently ate a cookie. “Everything coming out of his mouth is pure horse crap. But he can be surprisingly . . . fun.” She winced in embarrassment. “Sometimes I go home at night—”

  “Alone?” Quen interrupted, and she flashed a grin at him, dark eyes alight.

  “Alone,” she agreed. “I take a hot bath or sit in front of the fire as I remember all the nice things he said or did that day.” Her smile faded. “I know it’s fake, a game to him, but it feels good anyway. To hear those things from someone who once spit on your shadow.”

  Suddenly Daniel felt stupid. The woman was a spy, and he’d been worried Kal was trying to take advantage of her? Expression twisting, he dropped the flowers.

  “He’s been at me to put my application in at NASA,” Trisk said, head bowed over her glass. “I said I would if he’d put his in, too. Come with me.”

  “I bet that put a sparkle in his step,” Quen said, and Daniel drew back, holding his breath when Quen turned and his shadow spread long over the porch. From inside, he could hear the water at the sink run. “You’re not going, are you?” Quen asked, standing right before the window.

  “Are you kidding?” Trisk said sourly. “Talk about your boys’ club. They’d have me washing their petri dishes and picking up their dry cleaning my first day. I’m putting Kal off with the excuse that I can’t leave until the enclave finds a replacement for me here. By then, he will have signed off on the patent transfer for the T4 Angel, and with that, I’ll have a successful product and can get a job anywhere. Meanwhile, I’m playing this stupid game of girlfriend. God! What a woman has to do to get credit for her own work.”

  Daniel frowned, more confused. She was spying on him for an organization called the enclave, but trying to make a name for herself? Perhaps she needed to in order to get into the more exclusive labs.

  “I need to stay for a few years more at least,” she said, and when Quen’s shadow vanished, Daniel risked looking past the flat of the building again. “Someone needs to watch Daniel,” she said, and his face warmed. “He’s got a new line of tactical virus to play with and he shouldn’t be left alone.”

  Left alone?

  Quen moved to stand between him and Trisk, hiding her. “I don’t like this game you’re playing with Kalamack,” Quen said as he sat, his elbows on the bar and his head down. “But I’ll be there if you need me. Just promise me you won’t let him sucker you into believing he’s any different than he was three years ago.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Trisk snapped a cookie in half. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you those last few years at school.” She nibbled the cookie. “Needs more cinnamon.”

  Quen turned away. Trisk was busy wiping the crumbs off the counter and missed his expression, one so deep and enduring that Daniel suddenly realized that as much as they looked alike, this man wasn’t Trisk’s brother, though that same need to protect was there.

  “So, how did you get time away from the Kalamacks?” she asked, oblivious to how deep the man’s commitment to protect her went. “I was surprised to get your letter that you were coming out. It’s almost six hundred miles. I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

  Daniel dropped back as Quen looked to the window, his heart pounding. “I’m supposed to be in Kentucky looking at a horse for possible purchase for breeding stock,” Quen said, his voice distant. “But I already know the animal is worthless. He’s all pedigree, no drive. I’m going to suggest they buy him. They won’t know he’s a bad choice for at least two years, and by then, I’ll be gone.”

  The man was at the sink again, and Daniel began to edge away. He could put his car in neutral, push it far enough down the road that they wouldn’t hear when he started it. He wasn’t sure who he was going to tell, but he knew he didn’t want to be caught.

  “You are incorrigible,” Trisk said, the light play back in her voice. “How would you know if he’s a good horse or not?”

  “They speak to me,” Quen said. “In little nickers and whispers. This guy? He wants to laze about in the field all day. Hey, if you ever want horses for your stable, let me know.”

  I can’t leave the flowers, Daniel thought suddenly, turning to find them.

  “Man, I’ve missed you, Quen. You have no idea.”

  Disgusted at his gullibility, Daniel bent to retrieve the lily bouquet. Blinking, he froze. There was a tiny, glowing woman standing in the petals, her
hands orange with the pollen. “Holy shit!” he shouted, jerking his hand back.

  The little woman looked up at him in shock, her gossamer wings a blur. “Son of a bitch!” she swore, her high voice clear among the crickets. And then she was gone, nothing but a silver trace of fading dust arching up into the rafters to say she’d ever existed.

  “Did you hear—” Trisk said, but Daniel was staring at the eaves of the building, his heart pounding.

  “Stay here,” Quen said, a dangerous edge to his voice. “Someone is outside.”

  “It sounded like Daniel. Quen, wait!” she shouted, and then the door was yanked open, flooding the porch with a yellow light. “You don’t know how much he heard!”

  Shocked into motion, Daniel vaulted over the railing, landing badly and rolling down to the cars. Quen’s Camaro still ticked with heat, and he scrambled up, dusty and disheveled. He turned to see Quen and Trisk silhouetted at the top of the porch stairs. Trisk was holding Quen’s arm as if to stop him. He couldn’t see their expressions with the light behind them, but Quen’s stiff body language said it all. Daniel was up shit creek without a paddle.

  Mouth dry, he dropped the flowers. “I, ah . . . I didn’t hear anything,” he said.

  Quen slumped as he pulled away from Trisk. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’ll make it painless.”

  “What? Quen!” Trisk shouted, rounding on him. “No!”

  Painless! Daniel thought. My God, they were going to kill him. Hand up, he backed up into the Camaro. “I didn’t see anything!” he said, and then his jaw dropped as that same eerie glow he’d seen about that tiny woman seemed to blossom in Quen’s hands.

  “In es est,” Quen said in regret, shoving it at him as if it were a dodgeball.

  “I said no!” Trisk exclaimed, expression angry. “Finire!” she shouted, and Daniel stood transfixed as Trisk threw a second gold-and-green ball of light at the one streaking toward him. The two met with a ping he felt more than heard, and Daniel jumped, the sensation of having been pushed back filling him when the globes of light deflected to hit the earth to either side of him. The packed dirt spurted with an odd wet hiss, falling back to make a glowing crater.

  Daniel’s jaw dropped, gaze darting from them to the green haze and back again. “Y-you . . .” he stammered. “Who are you people?”

  “You’re not killing him,” Trisk said, and Daniel froze. She was a spy. They both were.

  “He heard everything,” Quen protested as Trisk hustled down the stairs, shooting dark looks at Quen, tight behind her. “We can’t let him break the silence.”

  “Yeah?” She stopped at the foot of the stairs, jerking Quen to a halt beside her. “He didn’t break the silence, you did. So what if he heard us talking about Kal?”

  Quen’s fists slowly opened, his angry expression replaced by one of dismay.

  Seeing it, Trisk nodded, her lips pressed tight. “This. Was. Salvageable,” she said softly, poking him in the chest with a finger. “Until you went ape and threw a lethal spell at him. Good God, what have you been doing the last three years?”

  Quen flushed. “Security.”

  “I can tell,” she said sourly, then forced a sick-looking smile onto her face as she turned to Daniel. “It’s going to be okay.”

  But it didn’t feel like it as Daniel swallowed hard, the warm engine of the Camaro pressing into him. The keys were in the ignition. “I—I won’t say anything,” he stammered, but his thoughts kept returning to that tiny woman and the glow from her. It had been the same glow in Trisk’s hand.

  A memory slowly began to push aside the fear. Finire. He’d heard that odd word before. As Trisk and Quen argued, Daniel touched the back of his head, his eyes narrowing at the remembered bump from two weeks ago.

  “There was a man,” Daniel said, and Quen’s forceful argument about what to do stopped as they both turned to him. “In a crushed green velvet coat. In Angie’s old office.” His lips parted. “Blue glasses, ugly laugh. You threw me across the room without using your hands.” Daniel stiffened. “How could I forget that?”

  “How indeed,” Quen accused, and Trisk flushed.

  “Uh, I was going to tell you about that,” she said to Quen, her shoulders hunched in embarrassment. “I found a stone in my grandmother’s ashes with a name engraved on it.”

  “Trisk,” Quen said, aghast.

  “Daniel walked in on us,” she continued, gesturing weakly.

  “You didn’t lock the door? Isn’t that rule one in summoning demons?” Quen berated her, and Daniel started. Demons?

  “I locked the door, okay!” Trisk exclaimed, and Daniel began to edge down the Camaro’s side to the door. “I didn’t know Daniel had a master bypass key. I spelled him into forgetting. I thought it would stick.” Daniel froze when she turned to him, her eyes pleading. “Daniel, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  Demons? Spells? Trisk thought she was a witch? Thinks, or is? he wondered in a growing panic as he looked at the still-smoldering pits. God help him, they both were. In a surge of fear, he fumbled for the door handle of the Camaro. Quen had tried to kill him, and Trisk had deflected the strike. With magic.

  “I’m not letting you drive my car out of here,” Quen said, and with a thunk, the doors locked on their own. Horrified, Daniel pulled his hand off the vehicle. Magic . . .

  “And I’m not letting you kill him for my mistake,” Trisk said, apparently not having a problem with the fact that Quen had locked the doors from ten feet away without touching the car.

  But Quen shook his head, ignoring Daniel as if he were dead already. “I know you like him, but your charms aren’t enough. Eventually he’s going to blab, and then we’ll all be dead.”

  “I won’t let you kill him,” Trisk said. “Don’t push me on this, Quen,” she intoned, but a horrible emptiness had taken the man’s eyes, dark in the dim light.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You know there’s no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice!” she exclaimed, then turned to Daniel, making him jump. “It’s okay,” she said quickly. She was trying to smile, but it wasn’t coming off as reassuring. “Quen won’t hurt you.”

  “I don’t care that you’re spies. I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” Daniel said.

  “Spies?” Trisk hesitated, an odd expression crossing her face. “No.”

  “Then who are you? What are you?” Daniel exclaimed.

  “I’m the same person I was yesterday,” she said, and Daniel shook his head vehemently as Quen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Yeah?” Daniel pointed at the fading glow in the drive. “You can do . . . that. And he wants to kill me because I know about it? What are you people?”

  “I’m not going to let him kill you,” Trisk said, arms over her chest. “I’m not!” she said louder, looking at Quen. But Daniel could see the panic gathering in her eyes, the determination in Quen, his hands clenching into fists and his shoulders stiffening.

  “You know forget curses aren’t reliable,” Quen said, and she nodded miserably.

  “It would have been fine if I hadn’t triggered the latent memory,” she said, then louder when Quen took a breath to protest, “If my charms aren’t strong enough, I know someone whose are.”

  Quen’s expression blanked. “The demon?” he questioned, and Trisk nodded.

  “The demon.”

  12

  Daniel’s breath came fast. Trisk had thrown a glowing ball of something to deflect the one Quen had aimed at him. And now, Quen wanted to kill him. This can’t be happening.

  “We can do it in the barn,” Trisk said, her voice low and her face hidden by her hair. “I’m not having that horrid smell in my house.”

  “Trisk, this is a bad idea,” Quen prompted, and she rounded on him.

  “If you don’t want to help me, fine, but I’m doing it,” she said, then spun to stride toward the barn. Her shadow vanished fast, leaving only the stars shining over the black hulk of the old
building and the sound of her steps.

  Quen frowned at Daniel as if everything was his fault. “After you, Dr. Plank,” he said, gesturing sarcastically, and Daniel began to follow.

  Fifty feet away, Trisk had reached the barn, her small shadow struggling as the door noisily rolled open. A moment later, light blossomed from inside, spilling out to glint on his car parked nearby. “I should have known Trisk wouldn’t own three vehicles,” Quen muttered.

  A forget spell, Daniel thought. He wouldn’t believe it except he’d seen the glowing energy coming from both Trisk and Quen. And what about that little woman in my flowers?

  He slowed as he entered the barn, glad to see the light was coming from a mundane gas lantern, hissing as it threw new shadows to the edges of the wide two-story space. “Where do you want him?” Quen said, and Trisk looked up from where she’d swept a wide area, the old boards shiny with age and polished by decades of straw.

  “Daniel, why don’t you sit there,” she said, pointing to a bale of straw, and Daniel’s jaw tightened. He was still wearing his scowl when Trisk turned to him, and he let it linger, angry something was going on, something he’d been kept out of—had been for a long time. He didn’t think she was a spy anymore, but she was up to something. He wasn’t sure if she was courageous or a whore. Maybe men were the bastards for making women have to choose between the two in order to get credit for their own work.

  “I wish I could explain,” Trisk said, but her evident guilt only made Daniel angrier.

  “What’s to explain?” he said flippantly. “You can do magic and you have to kill me to keep it a secret.”

  Beside him, Quen smacked a thick support post in agreement. “See?” he exclaimed. “Even he gets it.”

  “You are not going to kill Daniel!” Trisk shouted, then slumped. “I’m so sorry. We’re going to make you forget. You’ll be okay.”

  Okay? Trisk had been lying to him since he met her. How was that okay? “I’m not going to forget this,” he said sullenly.