Return to the Study
or visit the LegacyWeb's
P:TL Fanfic Library
When he reached the Range Rover there was a figure in the
passenger seat, although he'd left it locked, with the alarm
set.
"Lee Tzin-Soong!" Derek greeted the old man with a broad
smile. "What are you doing here?"
"It would pain me if you came to my side of town and didn't
visit, so I thought that I'd spare myself such suffering."
Mischief filled his bright, ancient eyes. "I might also ask
you what you're doing here?"
"Museum business, with a silversmith who lives in this
building."
"Would that be the one with hair like pale flame and jade-
green eyes?"
Derek laughed. "You don't miss much, old man!"
"And you always did have a taste for much younger women."
Tzin-Soong shook his head. "Forgive me - that was cruel. Will
you take some tea with me, Derek? Do you have time to talk?"
"For you, I always have time."
They went along the street and sat in an almost-empty
restaurant, where Lee was promptly served with jasmine tea and
dim-sum. The waitress bowed deeply and left them alone. Derek
related a catalogue of recent events, concentrating on Kat's
accident and Alex's phantom dog.
"I'm sorry to hear about the child." Tzin-Soong said, when
he'd finished. "For the past few days I've been aware of an
atmosphere of malevolence, nothing definite or solid, yet a
sense of brooding threat. As we of the Legacy know so well,
evil has no qualms about choosing the weakest, the most
innocent target."
"You think that's why Kat's coma hasn't broken?"
"If there's no physical reason for her affliction, then we
must assume that it's due to a supernatural attack. Would it
be of any help if I visited her in the hospital?"
"It might, and Rachel would be glad to see you, I'm sure."
The old man swirled the dregs of his tea, studying the
pattern of grey-green leaves and pale flowers. "There's
something else I should have mentioned to you, something
that's been puzzling me for a while. You know that it's my
habit to meditate in the early morning, around dawn? About a
month ago I sensed... I'm not sure what, exactly... a
presence, perhaps."
"Something evil?"
"Neither evil nor good... just itself. Ah, Derek, it was just
a glimpse, just the merest touch... " he struggled to find
words, doubly difficult in a language not native to him.
"Something powerful and very old, something inhuman. I think
it was aware of me that day, for it has been concealing itself
from me ever since. It's still there, still close - but that's
no more than a feeling."
Derek frowned, knowing better than to dismiss the old man's
intuition. "Does it mean us harm?"
Tzin-Soong sighed. "All I can give you is a guess - no, I
don't think it's our enemy. It isn't our friend either,
however much we might wish to have such a focus of power
within the Legacy ranks."
They sat in amiable quiet for a while and the waitress
brought them more tea. Lee thanked her in his own tongue, then
smiled at Derek. "Has my granddaughter written to you lately?"
"No." he raised an eyebrow. "Should she have?"
"Ah, she promised me that she would... " the old man shook
his head. "Mei-ling has found herself a young man, a most
intelligent, most charming scientist - an expert in lasers, I
believe. She tells me little about him, but I have my
suspicions that they intend to announce their engagement very
soon."
Derek was unprepared for the sudden blankness that washed
through him, the sinking feeling of loss. Although he hadn't
seen Mei-ling for some time, she was often in his thoughts -
and now the door he had hoped would stay open had shut.
"I'm glad for her." he said, swallowing his sorrow, burying
it along with the rest. "She deserves to be happy... "
"Ah, old friend, don't take it so hard." Tzin-Soong scolded,
yet there was sympathy in his voice. "What passed between you
was a transient thing - you must have known it couldn't last.
Mei-ling was curious, I think, and ambitious."
"Ambitious?"
"She told me once that she would be a precept one day." the
old man's eyes twinkled. "And rumour has it that one of the
cardinal qualifications for a female precept is to have slept
with Derek Rayne!"
"Lee, don't tease me over this!" Derek protested. "There's no
such rumour... is there?"
"I assure you that there is." the old man was laughing now.
"And I fear that it has a basis in fact!"
His humour was infectious and Derek found himself drawn into
it. "Not entirely - I don't even know the new precept of the
Hong Kong house."
Tzin-Soong was still chuckling. "Give our little Mei-ling
five, maybe ten years, and that may no longer be true!"
Derek stopped off at the hospital on his way back. Nick was
with Rachel, who looked worn-out and wraith-pale. Kat lay as
if peacefully asleep, serene and in the pink of health. Dr
Lopez was in attendance, nodding to him as he entered the
room.
"No change?" Derek read the answer in their eyes.
"We ve run a couple more scans and found no abnormality." the
medic said. "The drug-screen came in negative, her blood
chemistry is nominal and, although the final results will take
another day, there's no sign of meningitis or any other
infection. The one hopeful thing I can tell you is that an EEG
showed some brain activity - she's still ticking over in
there, albeit at a rather low level."
"We still don't know when she'll wake." Rachel added. Derek
noted the 'when', glad that she hadn't sunk down into the
realms of 'if'.
"I wish I could suggest a course of treatment." Ellen Lopez
sighed. "Watch and wait - that's the best we can do. I'd have
to say that orthodox medicine is pretty much stumped here. If
you know of any faith-healers or witch-doctors you might want
to give them a call - they may be more use to Kat than I am."
"We're grateful for everything you've done." Derek admitted.
"I know. she gathered up the charts. "It's just that the
waiting's so damn hard."
When Dr Lopez had gone, Nick came to his side and lowered his
voice. "Any developments on that other matter?"
Derek merely shook his head. Rachel, seeming intent only on
her daughter, glanced up. "Are we working on a case?"
"Nothing major... " he reassured her.
"Look, I know that you guys are nurse-maiding me, and I
appreciate it, really I do, but you don't have to." she
frowned. "How can you trust me to do the demon-and-ghost-and-
bogeyman stuff and yet not dare to leave me alone in case I
fall apart because Kat's ill?"
"Rachel, you don't have to prove anything to us." Nick said.
"We know how tough and resourceful you are... "
"There are times when all of us need a little help." Derek
added.
"All of us, yes." her blue eyes were accusing. "Except you."
"Oh, even me." he confessed. "I break down sometimes, usually
in private, but I do break down."
Her lips twisted in a sneer of disbelief. "Sure you do,
Derek! Go back to the island, both of you, and get some sleep.
I won't be on my own for long - Emily's coming in later - and
the staff look out for me, make me eat and nap now and then.
Go back and do your Legacy stuff - I'll be sure to call if
anything alters here."
Kat stands on the lonely road, between the shattered tree and
the ancient stone. The figure in the dark cloak faces her.
Neither of them cast a shadow - there's still no sun in the
sky. An small piece of eternity passes in silence.
"How will you go by land?" says the knight on the road.
Kat jumps again at the sound. "What?"
"Oh, clean out your ears, young lady, for pity's sake!" snaps
the figure. "How will you go by land?"
It comes to her then - this is a game of riddles. The words
have a familiar ring to them, perhaps a verse read to her at
school or a song her father sang to lull her to sleep. Kat has
a good memory and she searches it now, finding the response
with a surge of triumph. "With a good staff in my hand."
"That's better, much better!" the false knight crows in
delight, and it seems to Kat that she almost recognises his
voice. "Now, how will you go by sea?"
"With a good boat under me."
"Splendid, quite splendid!" he suddenly brings his hands out
from under the cloak, rubbing them together. "I just knew
you'd get the hang of this eventually!"
He has a ring on one finger - Kat sees it before he draws his
hands back into hiding, a flash of gold and a dark stone. Fear
rises in her like a pillar of smoke.
"Yes, I knew you'd get the hang of it." the knight repeats,
his voice oozing with malicious satisfaction.
Nick entered the control room just as Alex pulled up Elise
DuBois' driving licence and put it onto the large screen. He
glanced at the photo and whistled. "Wow! She is something
else! A man wouldn't kick that out of bed on a cold night,
that's for sure!"
"And when was the last time you had a chance to kick anything
out of your bed?" Alex didn't look up from her keyboard.
"Apart from the teddy-bear, that is."
"I don't have a teddy-bear." Nick pouted, and Derek almost
laughed. "Well, I don't."
Alex giggled, then grinned down at her screen. "My, my - look
at this. Mam'selle DuBois tells lies about her age! That
licence makes her - what? - twenty-three? Her birth
certificate says she's ten years older."
"Maybe it's a mistake?" Derek suggested.
"Yeah, sure! She's also not French, well, technically, if
you're splitting hairs. Her parents were, but little Elise
arrived unexpectedly, when they were on vacation. She was born
on May Day, 1965, in Glastonbury, England. No sibs, parents
both dead now - oh, and here's some good news for you guys -
She's not married."
"Glastonbury?" Nick frowned in thought. "Don't they have a pop
festival there?"
"Legend has it that King Arthur is buried there and it's
reputed to be the secret, final resting place of the Holy
Grail, brought from Palestine by Joseph of Arimathea and
hidden in a well. It's one of the most magical, mystical
places in England and all it means to you is a crowd of
hippies caterwauling in a field?" Derek tut-tutted. "What do
they teach you kids these days?"
"She's led quite a life, your little silversmith." Alex
observed, scrolling down the screen. "Get this - she's a
doctor. She trained in medicine in Paris, surgery in fact. Her
speciality is trauma - putting mortally-injured people back
together. She did her intern year in Belfast, then worked out
in Sarajevo and the Far East, with a quick trip to the Gulf
for the war."
"Why isn't she practising medicine here?" Nick wondered. "Did
somebody sue her or was she struck off?"
"Neither. In fact she picked up a couple of commendations out
in Bosnia, for bravery above and beyond - the hospital was
being shelled and she refused to stop operating."
"What is this woman - a saint?"
Derek wore his pet look of disapproval. "She does seem too
good to be true."
"Oh, boy - you haven't heard the half of it!" Alex continued
to call up data. "As if that wasn't enough, she found the time
to learn to fly, planes and helicopters - she's even rated for
jets, and I didn't think anyone except the Israelis let women
anywhere near those. NASA asked her to work for them - she did
some kind of induction course with them in 1987, then she just
upped and walked away. She's travelled extensively and lived
all over the world - London, Paris, Cairo, Montreal and, most
recently, in Boston."
"Do you think any of that bio is on the level?" Nick asked.
"Or is it just creative writing?"
"Seems genuine. Alex paused. "All of the documents are there
and it feels right. If it's a fake, it was manufactured by
professionals - which would make her CIA, M16, Interpol or
whatever passes for the KGB these days - and I don't think I
even want to consider that scenario!"
"Whatever game she's playing, it isn't espionage." Derek
leaned on her shoulder, scanning the screen. "She used a name
that bothered me, referring to a man she'd known in Paris, a
man who'd died. Is there anything to link Elise with Lucien
Breton?"
"I'll call up the police report on his death." Alex's fingers
flew over the keyboard, then froze. "My God, Derek, when you
have a hunch you sure do hit paydirt! Lucien and Elise were
friends, and had been for the best part of fifteen years.
Whenever she was in town, they'd get together for dinner.
Being French, the police assumed that the relationship went
deeper than that, of course, although Elise denied that they'd
ever been lovers. Lucien met her on the night he died... she
may have been the last person to see him alive!"
"Was she a suspect?" Derek's expression was so grim it scared
her.
"At first, yes, but she was eliminated from the list - cast-
iron alibi."
"And now she turns up here, too close for comfort, pretending
to be a silversmith?" Nick shook his head.
"That's no play-acting either. I was in her workshop and I
saw the pieces she'd produced." Derek thought of the dainty,
gem-studded amulets, and of the deft, confident way she'd
worked on the last one. "The lady is good at that too."
"Um, is it only me, or does anyone else think that being a
hot-shot trauma surgeon is a pretty good way of being around a
lot of dying people without attracting too much attention?"
Alex asked. "I mean, if you were a demon or something like
that, you could hang around in the war zones and, if a few of
your patients didn't make it, well, heck, you did your best to
save them, didn't you?"
"So what are we talking here?" Nick wrinkled his nose in
disgust. "Does our good ex-doctor drink blood or eat human
flesh?"
"There are psychic vampires too, which live on life energy,
or soul-takers... " Something else struck Derek, something he
should have noticed earlier. "You said she lived in Cairo and
Montreal, Alex. When, exactly?"
When the answers came through, Alex fed them to the large
screen, as if she didn't believe them until the writing was on
the wall. "She was in Cairo when a Legacy house was destroyed,
in Montreal when another went to the Darkside and in Paris
when a Legacy precept was murdered."
"Now she's here." Derek echoed.
Nick scowled. "I don't suppose she has a dog?"
Sleep eluded Alex that night. She lay wakeful in the darkness
for some time, then turned the lamp on and made her journal up
to date. After that she thought she might read for a while,
but the books on the shelf must have been bought by the yard
to go with the decor. She quickly discarded 'The Incredible
Journey', 'The Howling' and 'The Dogs of War' and dipped into
a dated mystery novel, 'Touch not the Cat', which failed to
hold her interest. Everything else was dire, so she took a
poetry anthology back to bed and leafed through it. It fell
open at a page and her eye was drawn to a line 'How wonderful
is Death, Death and his brother, Sleep... '
"The Daemon of the World?" Alex shook her head and laid the
book aside. "Thanks a bundle, Mr Shelley!"
She went down to the kitchen and fixed herself some hot milk.
The house was as still and quiet as a grave. Alex sat and
gazed across the bay, where the city lights glowed brighter
than the full moon, wishing for someone to talk to. Nick would
be sound asleep by now, but Derek might still be awake. Did
she dare to knock on his door in the middle of the night and
ask for some company?
"Nah!" Alex said, grinning at the walls. After all, there was
no real reason for her insomnia, no sense of threat or menace
in the air. There wasn't even a storm tonight, just a light
breeze and fair weather.
She went back to her room, put three drops of lavender oil on
her pillow and tried to relax, breathing in the sweet scent.
Even that didn't help. Alex sighed and rolled over to turn out
the light...
And saw the black dog sitting in the far corner of her room.
It was bigger than she remembered, and blacker. Its eyes
caught the light like garnets, flashing with red fire. It
yawned and she saw its teeth, which were far too numerous and
sharp for her liking, then it looked directly at her and
growled.
Fear hit her between the eyes like a thrown dagger. She
didn't even remember deciding to run, then she was at the
door, fumbling for its catch, and the beast was leaping after
her. She gained the corridor and slammed the door in its face.
The black dog came through the solid oak - right through it,
as if it was made of mist. Alex started screaming then and
bolted, running blindly.
Her first scream woke Nick just enough for his brain to
register the emergency; by her second, the gun was in his hand
and he was on his feet, and her third found him in the
corridor, blinking and almost fully conscious.
Derek was quicker - he had been awake. Alex's shrieks brought
him out of his room within seconds and he was moving towards
the sound when she rounded the corner and ran straight into
him.
"Alex, what is it?" The panic in her eyes frightened him. She
struggled in his grasp as if she didn't recognise him, and he
clutched her tighter. "What's wrong?"
"...dog... " she gasped. "...black dog..!"
Derek looked along an empty corridor. "There's nothing there,
I promise you... "
"Alex!" Nick reached them, scanning the area for a target to
fire at. "Derek, what's wrong with her?"
The black dog reached Alex then and nudged at her thigh with
its nose - she felt its hot breath through the silk of her
pyjamas. The bargvest growled at Derek, skipped down the
corridor to dance thrice around Nick, who was desperately
seeking something to draw a bead on, then, with a jaunty wave
of its tail, vanished through the wall.
"You can't see it!" Alex wailed. "Neither of you can see it!
It is there - or at least, it was... it's gone now... it
disappeared..."
She was trembling so violently that Derek was afraid she
might go into shock - he'd never seen her so distressed. He
hugged her close, murmuring a sing-song of comforting nonsense
into her ear and stroking her hair, as he would to calm a
child woken from nightmare.
"I'll check the whole floor." Nick said, waiting for Derek's
nod of agreement before leaving them.
Alex came back to her senses gradually, aware that her face
was wet with tears and buried in Derek's shoulder, aware that
he was holding her far too close. She eased away from him,
feeling the colour rising in her cheeks. "Uh, I'm sorry about
that... I don't usually fall apart so easily... "
"It's okay." he said, softly. "You aren't usually pursued
down these halls by a padfoot, are you?"
"You do believe me then?"
"Of course." he smiled, and it did cross her mind that he
still might be humouring her. "Nothing imaginary would ever
get you into that kind of state."
"But you saw and felt nothing?"
"I'm afraid not."
Nick came back to them, shaking his head. "Nothing, nothing
at all. I checked up here and downstairs - the alarms are
still set, nothing triggered them, and the system isn't
showing any point of entry at window or door."
"The bloody thing went straight through the wall!" Alex
snapped, then instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry... "
"You have nothing to apologise for." Derek reassured,
silencing Nick with a single glance. "The dog is gone now,
isn't it?"
"Yes, it's gone."
"Then I suggest we all try to get some sleep." Derek felt
Alex shiver and guessed that she was still too shaken to be
left on her own. "Don't worry, I'll take you back to your
room."
He led her back there, helped her into bed and pulled the
covers over her, but only when he reached for the lamp did she
speak "Don't turn it off!"
"Would you like me to stay for a while, until you fall
asleep?"
Alex bit her lower lip. "Derek, I don't know why this has hit
me so hard. I'm not the sort of girl who's given to trembling,
fainting and fits of the vapours, you know I'm not."
"Have I ever questioned your courage?" he asked. "If this
beast is a demonic apparition - and I believe that it is - it
uses fear as a weapon, as a spell to weaken us. None of us
would be immune to that kind of attack. Shall I stay?"
"Yes." she returned his smile, at last. "Please."
Derek moved around the bed and settled into the chair by the
window. "Go to sleep."
"Will it come back tonight, the - what did you call it?"
"Padfoot - or bargvest, whichever you prefer." Derek shook
his head. "No, I don't think so. Tonight the moon is full, and
I'm sure that has some significance. By tradition the three
nights around the full moon are the most magical. Yesterday
was the first of those, when your bête noire turned up... "
"Tomorrow... " Alex murmured, horror slipping back into her
eyes. "Will it come back tomorrow?"
How could he lie to her? "I'm afraid that it might."
She didn't say anything for a long time, so long that he was
almost sure that she'd fallen asleep. "You called it my black
dog... and it is hunting me, isn't it? Why has it made me its
prey?"
"I wish I had an answer for you, because if I had, we'd have
some idea how to fight it." Derek sighed. "I've read every
reference on the subject we have in the library, but nothing
is specific enough to be of any help."
"I'll search the database tomorrow." Alex resolved. "There's
a solution to every problem - you just have to find it."
She was still young enough to believe that, Derek reflected,
still naive enough to trust in the power of science to
overcome all ills. She had enough faith in herself and in the
rest of them to believe that they could come through this
crisis - but that innocent certainty was a luxury he didn1t
possess. Kat was still in a coma, the demon-dog was still out
there and something else was menacing his Legacy house,
something unseen and evil. Derek shook his head, sure that all
of their current mysteries were somehow linked and yet unable
to see how. Until he made that connection, until he forced the
unknown into the cage of the explainable, danger threatened
everything he held dear.
The next morning Alex slept late, but Derek and Nick set off
early for the mainland. They parked the Range Rover in front
of the converted warehouse and crossed the courtyard, which
was patched with stepping-stones of rainbow light.
"Groovy architecture. was Nick's comment.
"Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly; Life,
like a dome of many-coloured glass, stains the white radiance
of Eternity." Derek quoted, as green and gold stars splashed
colour across his face.
"Okay, so it's nice." Nick shrugged. "Where does little Miss
Perfect hang up her soldering iron?"
"Second floor."
They rang the bell repeatedly and Nick pounded on the door.
No answer.
"I guess Mam'selle Enigma isn't home." Nick tried the handle
and grinned suddenly as it turned. "Door's open - want to take
a look around in there?"
"It wouldn't be breaking and entry... a good lawyer could get
us off on a technicality?" Although Derek's voice was serious,
humour touched his eyes. "Lead the way."
They stepped over the threshold into an empty room. No coffee
on the stove, no signs of life.
"Mam'selle DuBois." Derek called. "Are you here, Elise?"
Silence. Nick went to the left, moving silently over the
wooden floor, pushing the door ajar. "All clear."
He went through and Derek followed, finding a neat, spacious
bedroom with a wide continental bed, draped with an unusual
quilt of jewel-bright colours set against black. There was a
chair upholstered in dark green velvet set beside the window
and an immense mahogany wardrobe, but no dressing-table, no
mirrors and a worrying lack of the usual feminine clutter.
"Bathroom." Nick ducked back through the other door. "So neat
it's scary. Also empty."
"I don't think she was here last night." Derek guessed. "That
bed hasn't been slept in."
Nick nodded in agreement. "Nice quilt."
"Cathedral window - one of the most difficult patchwork
patterns." Derek frowned. "I've never seen it worked in velvet
before."
"How do you know these things?" the ex-Seal muttered, shaking
his head.
They crossed the main living area and entered the studio.
Nick moved around, checking out the drawers and cupboards
along the back wall. "Some of these are locked."
"She must keep the silver and gemstones somewhere... "
"Derek!" Nick beckoned him over to the bench. "Is this the
missing pendant?"
Nestling in the centre of a mess of tools, scattered
gemstones, fragments of metallic wire and sketches was the
gold and enamel Green Man, yet its eye sockets were empty and
the garnet berries were missing from around its mouth. Derek
found a scrap of velvet and used it to pick up the jewel,
turning it over to examine its reverse, which was too shiny-
clean to be original. "No. This must be a copy, and a pretty
good one at that, given that she's only working from
drawings."
"Why would she make a copy?"
"The challenge?" Derek carefully replaced the piece in its
previous position.
"Is she weird enough to make it just for the hell of it?"
Derek smiled wryly. "Oh, yes, she's weird enough!"
"Should we search the place now we're here? I could probably
go through everything without disturbing much, and I might
even find the keys to these cupboards... "
"Nick, she left the door unlocked. Do you really think
there's anything here for us to find?"
"I suppose not."
They left the apartment and, as they walked between the
trees, a girl called to them from the cafe. Derek recognised
the lightning-sketch artist he had spoken to yesterday. She
was sitting with a young man who was shaping wet clay with one
hand and attacking carrot-cake with the other.
"If you re looking for the jewel-lady, she isn't here. the
girl said. "I haven't seen her today. Have you, Tom?"
"Who, our Lady of the Wood?" her companion grinned. "She's
awa' with the witches!"
"Sit with us, have some coffee." the girl offered. "I'm
Rowan."
Nick glanced at Derek for a cue. The precept pulled up a
chair and accepted a cup. "Derek, and this is Nick."
"Thomas. the young man waved his fork. "No prizes for
guessing I'm a sculptor."
"And I draw things." Rowan opened her pad with a flourish and
extracted a pencil from behind her ear. "I'd like to sketch
you, Nick, if you don't mind?"
Her smile was warm enough to bask in and there was an
inviting twinkle in her brown eyes. Nick knew he couldn't say
no. "Sure, I don't mind. Go ahead."
"You said that Mam'selle DuBois had gone with... witches?"
Derek asked, feigning confusion.
"That's right. Two of them were here last night - nice girls,
if a little intimidating. They were in full regalia too, in
sweeping green cloaks and brocade robes embroidered with
glyphs, crowned with ivy and stars. They came to pick up those
neat little pentacles and invited her to their sabbat." Thomas
was playing to his audience, working with the truth much as he
was working with the clay. "Lise probably won't be back before
this afternoon - those gals surely do know how to party!"
"Lady of the Wood?" Nick echoed. "Why do you call her that?"
"Oh, don't get him started!" Rowan protested, looking up from
her sketch. "He has this dumb hang-up about the silversmith...
his mystery woman, he calls her... "
"She's unique, an icon - if anyone deserves a multiplicity of
names, it's her." Tom said, grimacing at the sketch-artist.
"DuBois means 'of the wood', doesn't it? And if she isn't a
lady, then no-one else in the civilised world should dare to
aspire to the title. I call her Galadriel too, just to tease
her."
"I thought Galadriel was a blonde." Nick observed.
"We have parties here most nights, in the studios of people
who don't fill them up with lumps of rock and twisted heaps of
metal." Rowan said, sticking her tongue out at the sculptor.
"The jewel-lady throws a great party, the sort that ends in
the wee small hours of the morning, with everyone sprawled on
floor cushions and putting the world to rights... "
"We do poetry, limericks and ballads. Reciti..tations.. One
night, Lise did that bit from Lord of the Rings, you know, the
bit where she turns down the One Ring." Thomas raised both of
his hands and struck a dramatic pose. "Instead of a Dark Lord
you will set up a Queen, and I shall not be dark, but
beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night... All
shall love me and despair!"
"I pass the test." Derek quoted, softly. "I shall diminish,
and go into the West, and remain Galadriel."
"Yes, yes... Rowan's eyes shone at the memory. "Only, when
she did it, you really believed it, you know?"
"Have you two known her long?" Nick asked.
"Just a few weeks, since she moved in here." Thomas
confessed. "She's a strange one, though - not moody-strange or
New Age-strange... just odd."
"Fey?" Derek suggested.
"That's it, exactly. Damn good silversmith though." the
sculptor took a final mouthful of carrot cake and talked
around it. "Guess you'll be wanting to commission something
from her, huh?"
"Perhaps. A colleague of ours has a birthday soon." Derek
improvised. "She's rather fond of earrings."
"Oh, she does great earrings." Rowan said, switching to a
softer pencil to block in shadows on her sketch. "Lovely
celtic swirly things - last week she was making a pair in gold
and fire-opal that were something else! Like a frozen sunset -
absolutely magic!"
"Do you know what the most remarkable thing about Lise is?
You can talk to her about anything - anything at all, however
obscure - and she'll know something about the subject." Thomas
scraped his fork around the plate, moving the last few crumbs
about. "And she bakes coffee brownies to die for!"
"He's in love - can't you tell?" Rowan giggled. "Did you miss
anything off the list of her virtues? What about the way she
sewed up your cut hand?"
"Oh yeah." he showed them his left palm, bisected by a thin
red scar. "Sliced it with a chisel, all the way down to the
bone. Lise fixed it up - saved me a trip to the ER."
"She's obviously a very gifted woman." Derek said. "We'll
have to try to catch her again tomorrow, but now we ought to
go."
"Wait just a moment... I'm almost done." Rowan put the
finishing touches to her sketch, scrawled a signature at the
bottom, ripped the sheet from the pad and presented it to
Nick. "Ta-da! A little rushed maybe, but, if I say so myself,
it isn't bad."
It was a good likeness. She'd caught him with a spark of
amusement in his eyes and a half-smile on his lips. Nick
grinned as he studied the portrait. "Hey, you've got talent."
"If you can spare an hour to sit for me, I can do much
better." the girl said, lapping up the praise. "I'm in number
seven. Drop in one evening and I'll cook you supper."
"You'd do better to take Rowan out." Thomas advised. "Or
bring in Chinese food - unless you like overcooked pasta!"
Rowan threw her pencils at him, hurling them like darts, so
the sculptor had to duck. Derek and Nick left them to their
horseplay, muttering unheeded farewells.
"Quite a double act." Nick observed, when they were safely
back in the Range Rover. "The words 'talk', 'hind leg' and
'donkey' come to mind!"
"I found it quite a valuable insight into Mam'selle DuBois'
character. She inspires instant liking, she's helpful,
friendly and generous - none of which are typical demonic
qualities." Derek mused. "A woman of many contradictions then,
our Lady of the Wood."
"What a nickname that is, so spooky and mysterious! And
Galadriel?" Nick shrugged. "These artistic types are so
imaginative and excitable."
"You certainly seemed to excite young Miss Rowan." Derek
teased. "I think you'd get rather more than a portrait out of
the evening if you went over for supper!"
Nick grinned. "Do you think she'd do me in oils?"
"Only the kind you massage into bare skin, I shouldn't
wonder!" Derek pulled out into the traffic. "Are you going to
take up her offer?"
"I might." Nick carefully rolled up the sketch. "I just
might."