Authors: Juliet Dark
“We’ll agree to remain peacefully outside if you’ll allow Callie to speak for us,” Brock said.
He turned to me, his face full of hope and trust. “You’re our only chance, Callie.”
I looked past Brock and Dory and saw Ike Olsen. He was standing next to the Norns. Skald held up her phone for me to see. The screen was full of the enigmatic lines I’d seen there before when she had consulted my future. They looked more chaotic than ever, but the knot at the center had loosened and was opening like a fern unfurling. Perhaps the lines represented my wards loosening. I felt them letting go with the trust my friends had in me. I felt a few more links dissolve as I turned back to Brock and Dory and told them, “Yes, I will speak for Fairwick.”
Beckwith Hall was one of the oldest and most elegant classrooms on the campus. A large, handsome rectangular oak table, which had once been in the refectory of a monastery, sat in the middle of the room. One side of the room was taken up by arched windows alternating with niches that held busts
of great philosophers and writers. Today the blinds were drawn over the windows and the busts of Homer, Plato, Sappho, Dante, Shakespeare, Jane Austen, and Charlotte Brontë were invisible in their shadowy niches. A projector shot images onto a screen behind the table and onto the covered windows: images of a sunlit grove surrounded by tall trees accompanied by a soundtrack of rustling leaves, birdsong, and the flutter of wings so close that I had to resist the urge to duck as I crossed the room to sit beside Liz.
She was on the near side of the long table, next to a woman with very short silver hair that stood up in bristly tufts, whom Liz introduced as Loomis Pagan. The pixy gender studies professor from Wesleyan, I recalled. I was introduced in turn to Delbert Winters from Harvard, Eleanor Belknap from Vassar, Lydia Markham from Mount Holyrood, and Talbot Greeley from Bard, who didn’t look like a cluricaune, whatever that was. All the IMP board members sat on one side of the table. The other side was empty.
“They wouldn’t let Soheila in,” I whispered to Liz after I’d been introduced to everyone and had taken my seat. “Or Dory or Brock.”
“I know,” Liz said, clucking her tongue. “They’ve made us weaker by excluding the fey. They even tried to ban Talbot and Loomis, but we objected and got them admitted.”
“Exclusion is the hobgoblin of little minds,” Loomis Pagan began, but then the entrance of the Grove members silenced her.
Six figures filed into the room. For a moment they appeared to be wearing hooded robes and beaked masks, but then that illusion faded and I saw they were all wearing somber dark suits. They filed behind the table and each stood for a moment behind a chair. The slide show resolved into a single image of the tree-encircled glade and the light brightened as if the sun
had come to stand directly above the open clearing. I looked down at my hands and saw that they were dappled with leaf shadow … and something else. A shadow of wings passed overhead just as the sound of wings on the soundtrack grew louder. I looked around, half-expecting some giant bird to come swooping down from the ceiling, but there was nothing but a stirring that seemed to be coming from the shadowy niches—as if the luminaries enclosed in them were trying to get a better view of the proceedings.
Adelaide’s two blond companions stood at either ends of the table. I was surprised that they were actually on the board. I’d thought the Grove was an all women’s club and that the men were security guards, but perhaps they were representatives from the London Seraphim Club. My grandmother stood at the center, between an older woman and a young woman with bangs and horn-rimmed glasses. Except for the blond twins, the council was made up of women in sensible, boxy suits and low-heeled pumps. It could have been the board of the local PTA or garden club instead of the governing body of an ancient order of witches.
A bell rang and the six Grove members pulled out their chairs and sat. The audio loop grew quieter and the light grew brighter over the long table. My grandmother clasped her hands, leaned forward, and addressed our side of the table as if we were a large crowd a long way off.
“As Chancellor of the Oak, I call this meeting between the Grove and the Institute of Magical Professionals to order.” I thought I saw the two blond minions sneer a bit at the word
professionals
. Adelaide turned to the older woman on her right. “Miss Davis, do you have the report on Fairwick?”
“That’s Garnette Davis,” Liz whispered. “She’s descended from a witch who was executed at Salem.”
Garnette Davis opened her briefcase and took out a bound
report that was at least four inches thick. As she handed it to Adelaide the pages rustled. Adelaide put her hand on the cover as if to calm the pages within, then opened to the first page and read aloud, her clear aristocratic voice silencing even the recorded noises in the room.
“In the autumn of 2009, a committee was formed to investigate irregularities at the institution of Fairwick College, the village of Fairwick, and the outlying woods and farmlands. Because the last door to Faerie existed in the woods of Fairwick the area has long been a haven for supernatural creatures—fey, demon, and undesignated.”
“Could you please clarify what you mean by the term ‘undesignated’?” Loomis Pagan asked archly.
Adelaide gave Loomis a withering look, picked up a separate sheet, and began reading aloud in a bored monotonic voice. “Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, half breeds …”
Half breeds? I wondered. Wasn’t I a sort of half breed? I focused back on Adelaide, who was still listing creatures who came under the undesignated label. “… trows, poltergeists, revenants, zombies …”
“I think we get the idea,” Delbert Winters interrupted, glaring at Loomis Pagan. “Can we get on with this? I’m catching a plane to Iceland tonight.”
“I’d be happy to get
on with it
,” Adelaide replied, picking up the report and reading where she had left off. “For many years it had been thought the door was inactive, but when it came to our attention that the door was not only active, but that creatures were passing freely between worlds without any supervision, the Grove decided to investigate the nature of the college and community. We found that at least three hundred fifty-three undocumented aliens were living in the town, among them races known to feed on humans, such as
incubi, lidercs, and succubi, and that numerous attacks had been made on humans.”
Liz cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Madame Chancellor. May I ask where you are getting your information?”
“Certainly. Because we wanted to be sure that there could be no accusation of bias, we subcontracted a report from an independent third party—the Internal Affairs Division of the Institute of Magical Professionals.”
“I was not aware that we were being investigated,” Liz trilled in full Jean Brodie mode.
Adelaide lowered her glasses and gave Liz a withering look. I would not have imagined that anyone could intimidate Elizabeth Book, but I saw her stiffen under my grandmother’s scrutiny.
“Your awareness of the investigation would have invalidated it. Dr. Greeley can attest that the investigation was conducted under proper IMP guidelines.”
Talbot Greeley adjusted the knot of his bow tie and re-crossed his legs without looking at Liz. “We’d had complaints, Liz. My hands were tied.”
Liz’s face had gone very pale and she was clenching her hands so tightly under the table that I saw her knuckles bulging. “I see. May I know what this
agent
discovered?”
“If you have no objection, you can hear it from the agent himself.”
“I have no objection,” Liz replied, squaring her shoulders and leaning forward in her seat. “I would very much like to see who has been the spy in our midst.”
W
ithout looking to his left or right, Frank Delmarco entered the room. He walked to the chair set at the end of the table, slouched in his seat and glared at the Grove members. When his eyes met mine, he started to smile, then scowled, straightened his suit jacket, and pulled at the cuffs of his shirt. I’d never seen Frank in a suit jacket before. He looked like he was wearing a medieval torture device.
“Please state your full name,” Adelaide said.
“Frances Dante Delmarco,” Frank said with a look that dared anyone in the room to crack a smile at his middle name. Which wasn’t likely. I could feel Liz’s shock as she struggled to absorb the fact that brusque, gruff, but kind and decent Frank Delmarco had been a spy. At least Soheila would be spared seeing the man she secretly loved betray Fairwick—but then I recalled the video monitors.
Damn
.
“And please state your affiliations.”
“I’m a full professor of American studies at Fairwick College,” Frank said, looking straight at Liz. “I received tenure five years ago.”
“I’ll be damned if that’ll keep me from firing you,” Liz muttered under her breath.
“And …?” Adelaide prompted.
“I also work for the Internal Affairs Division of the Institute of Magical Professionals. They—specifically, Dr. Greeley here—asked me to report on any suspicious or unusual supernatural occurrences at the college.”
“And have you found
any suspicious or unusual supernatural occurrences
here at Fairwick?”
I held my breath. Last winter when I’d found out that he was an operative for IMPIA he’d gone on a rant about the unorthodox and dangerous activities on campus—ranging from unauthorized tampering with the weather to harassment of civilians by supernatural creatures. And that had been before he’d had to save me from a winged, life-sucking liderc.
Frank sighed. “I compiled my report for IMPIA, not the Grove. I was never told that the information I was gathering would be used in a witch hunt.”
Loomis Pagan and Eleanor Belknap gasped.
“We are hardly likely to instigate a witch hunt,” Adelaide said, enunciating each word, “since we ourselves are witches, Dr. Delmarco.”
“I was using the term figuratively. I’m a witch myself, although I prefer the term wizard. Hunting down creatures because of their supernatural identities is just as intolerant as persecuting witches for their practices.”
“So you think it’s acceptable for supernatural creatures to prey on human beings?”
“Of course not,” Frank snapped.
“But you did document a case in which …” Adelaide turned to a bookmarked page of the report. “… in which an
incubus invaded the home of a Fairwick professor and sexually molested her, did you not?”
Frank’s eyes flicked to mine for a brief instant, but long enough, I was sure, for him to have seen the pain in my eyes. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d reported on my relationship with Liam, but it hurt that he’d expressed it in those terms.
“Yes, but I also reported that the professor in question was able to banish the incubus with help from her colleagues, including some otherworldly colleagues. They got the job done. And I’d say the same about Fairwick College: the people here may not always play by the book, but they get the job done. They’re good people, by and large, whether human or otherwise.”
Eleanor Belknap grunted assent and Loomis Pagan nodded her head in agreement. A little bit of my anger against Frank was dispelled.
“But then you don’t always know which you’re dealing with, do you, Dr. Delmarco? Are you acquainted with one Soheila Lilly?”
“Yes, I know Dr. Lilly. She teaches Middle Eastern studies here.”
“And what is your relationship with Dr. Lilly?”
“We’re colleagues—and friends,” Frank answered warily, looking questioningly at me. Frank had told me once that he didn’t exactly know what Soheila was. I hadn’t volunteered the information that she was a succubus.
“So you’ve had ample opportunity to observe her. Do you know if she’s human?”
“I know that she’s a kind, intelligent, generous woman, an excellent teacher, and an outstanding scholar. She’s never hurt a soul. That’s good enough for me.”
“Hm, but if you don’t know what she is, how do you know that your judgment of her hasn’t been compromised?”
Before Frank could answer—an answer I believe would have included a rich array of expletives—Adelaide raised her voice. “The Grove calls Soheila Lilly.”
The door opened and Soheila appeared, escorted by Jen Davies. She and Soheila, arms linked, looked as if they might have been girlfriends out shopping together. She escorted Soheila to the end of the table opposite where Frank sat and, giving Soheila a small apologetic smile, left her. Soheila glanced first at Liz, then at the Grove members—then she saw Frank. A spontaneous smile of surprise and pleasure spread across her face and I realized she must have been sequestered somewhere and couldn’t watch the proceedings. She didn’t know yet that Frank was an Internal Affairs agent—or that he’d just been asked if he knew what sort of creature she was.
“Please state your full name,” Adelaide ordered.
“Soheila Lilly,” she replied.
“Is that your
full
name?”
Soheila sighed. The sigh turned into a musical trill of wind that passed through the room, carrying with it the scent of cardamom and cloves and the warmth of a desert night. I saw Frank smile when the breeze reached him—we all smiled, I think, warmed by its touch in this cold, hostile room, even Loomis Pagan, who looked like she hadn’t smiled in decades. But then Adelaide lifted a hand and the warm gust turned icy cold.
“You are not allowed to perform magic at this meeting,” she roared.
Soheila’s eyes widened but she spoke with controlled grace. “I was not performing magic. You asked me my full name and I gave it to you. My name belongs to the wind. I cannot help what effect it has on you.”
“It had
no
effect on me,” Adelaide snapped, a smug look on her face, “because I am warded against such tricks, but I imagine the effect is most seductive to unwarded humans … or to a witch unaware of your nature.” Adelaide turned to Frank. “Were you aware, Dr. Delmarco, that your colleague Soheila Lilly is a succubus?”
Frank shook his head, his eyes on Soheila. Her eyes were wide and glassy with pain.
Liz made a strangled noise. I glanced at her and saw that there were tears in her eyes. I looked at the other members of the board and saw that they were looking at Soheila intently.