Dark Confluence (25 page)

Jenny gazed at him imploringly, not wanting the moment to end.

He smiled and kissed her lovingly, his hands cupping her face. Jen felt his fingers wrap silvery threads of power around her, binding her to him, making them as one.

“You carry my essence now, my Jenny,” he whispered. “You will have my aid when it comes time to do the thing you must do.”

Jen looked at him questioningly. “Do you know what I must do?”

“I can show you - the means and how you must discover for yourself.”

He stood and pulled her to him. With a gesture, he wrapped them both in gossamer robes of silk and shadow.

“Hold tight to me and don’t let go,” he told her.

Obediently, she wrapped her arms about his neck, feeling with her Sight, his power beating within him.

He held her firmly to himself with one strong arm, and with the other hand spun a tracery of light that appeared at his feet. He spoke a word and they both faded from the mortal realm. Jen felt a great rushing movement of light and sound around her, and terrified, she clung like a burr to the man of the Fae. Moments later, they both appeared back in the mortal world amongst some scrubby trees high upon a ridge. Jen gasped out her confusion as she struggled to catch her breath. Finally, she was able to take stock of her surroundings and saw below her a great construct of man. A brilliantly lit humming, vibrating complex of human power, Jen felt the tingling from it even where they stood on the ridge. Jen instinctively guessed what it was, she had often driven by the sign for it on the road to Cromhart, but this was the first time she had been so close.

“You know what it is?” he asked.

She nodded, staring at it.

“It will need to be shut down,” he said finally. “This is the heart of the power your people use. For my people to move through and for your town to be saved...this place, it must be rendered silent and the town darkened.”

Jen gulped, swallowing nervously.

“I must go now,” he said. “The courts await my report and you must prepare.”

She turned to him, eyes shocked, but even before she could speak, the mortal world faded again and she was hustled back along the Fae path to her home, and back to her bedroom.

He stood before her, clad once again in his cavalier clothes, and bowed and kissed her hand.

“I will be with you again before long, my lady, my Jenny,” he whispered. “Remember, you carry my essence with you now, so when you require aid, simply call my name.”

Then, before she could bid him farewell, he had become shadow, and again one with the now dimming Fae path.

...

Jen at last knew what she had to do, just the way of doing it was beyond her knowledge and skill. She had combed the internet for information, and increased her knowledge, but had come up empty handed as to an easy way of doing it. She shut down the computer and took her sheaf of papers out of her office and into the living room. Sitting down on her sofa, she stared at the pages. With an economy of movement, she stapled one lot of typewritten papers together, signed the bottom, and carefully inserted it into the addressed envelope along with her spare house key.

She would need to visit the Cromhart post office soon, she thought. She did not trust the Emerald Hills one to be either open or working, and besides she wanted to limit her interaction with the strangers in town.

She took the other sheaf of papers, signed and folded it, as well, inserting it into an ordinary blank envelope. She would need to think on who was best to send it to. She would need to think on who would take her seriously and act on what she wrote. She sealed both envelopes and placed them on her dining room table. Jen felt tired, but oddly, did not want to sleep. She suspected time was running out, so she instead headed outside to enjoy the fading colours of her garden for a while.

*

Chapter 22

The electrical company and their contractors had finally finished their work in Emerald Hills that morning. They had packed up their sledgehammers, diggers and cable laying machines and thankfully waved goodbye to the town that most of them were all too eager to leave.

It had surely been the oddest place that they had worked in, and every day the strangeness had amped up by degrees, until in the final days, most of the workers had to be paid overtime rates in order to turn up to work. Nothing had actually hindered the operation, although the earth tremor a week or two ago had put the wind up some. Most felt that the town was weird and the topic generated daily muttered conversation around the coffee pot at smoko.

There was to be a ceremonial turning on of the last quadrant of underground power to Emerald Hills that evening, but most of the workers had decided not to linger, with only a few ‘big wigs’ staying on for the ceremony, which was to be covered by multiple media units.

Despite a directive from the company ordering staff not to talk to journalists, many were interviewed by the enterprising press who were searching for a new perspective, a new angle on the ongoing mystery of the town. One media group had been particularly persistent, trying to find out who had authorised the underground lines, and how it had all begun. The crew in question had seemed different to the others who had come into the town - they looked stressed and worried and seemed to be constantly looking over their shoulders. So the contractors had humoured them, told them what they knew about EHGAG and the council, and went on with finalising the completion of the work.

*

Bill Anders rapped on the front door of the wooden pole house for the second time and waited for a reply. He turned to Trent and shook his head, “No one home, perhaps we should try later?”

Trent looked across at the separate garage, “Well, there is a four wheel drive parked there, so I would assume someone might be around. Besides it’s lunchtime, he should be here.”

Bill checked his sheet, and then walked back and checked the number on the house, “We’ve got the right place.”

Deven angled his camera beyond the house and took some footage looking out across the Hinterland to the vista of the coast beyond. “Great view!” he said, “This place would have set the owner back a packet. He’s a greenie, did you say Bill.”

Bill nodded, “I assume so, his name is Todd Roberts. The ‘goss’ on him is that he used to work for HBTGroup Financiers, then sold his Albion penthouse to become a ‘tree-changer’ up here and joined EHGAG to become an environmental activist.”

Trent’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead, “A bit of a change of life-direction there.”

Bill shook his head, “Not necessarily so. I did a bit of digging on him, and found out that he’s heavily invested in wind farm technology both here and overseas, sunk quite a bit of money into it in fact. Perhaps, he’s just protecting his investments?”

Trent stared over Bill’s shoulder at the A4 paper he held, “I reckon it’s a bust here. Who else do you have on your list for EHGAG?”

Bill ran his finger down the list, “Carma Bright...geeze, what sort of name is that, she lives just...”

“Um, guys...” Deven called out, a strange strangle in his voice, “Take a look at this.”

Bill and Trent wandered over to where Deven had the big television camera set up on a tripod.

“I was doing some background footage,” Deven explained, “Of the escarpment and across to the coast, when I panned across to some nearby trees and saw something odd in the branches. So given what we’ve been seeing all week with the full spectrum camera, I zoomed in and...well, see for yourself.”

Bill put his eye to the viewfinder and gazed through it, “I can’t see anything other than branches.”

Deven came over to the camera and peered into the trees, “You’re looking for something pale yellow, left hand side, halfway up the biggest tree and wedged in a fork in the branches.”

Bill nodded and turned his eye back to the viewfinder, “Ah, got it! Oh...My...God, is that what I think it is? Geezus, where is the rest of him?”

Trent pushed his way in, “The rest of what? We got a body?”

Bill stepped back, his face green, “Yup, at least part of a body. There is a head and torso way up there...minus the arms and legs.”

Trent’s breath hissed out between his teeth, “Our missing tree changer?”

“I reckon so,” Bill replied, “Not sure if I want to go looking for the rest of him though.”

“What the hell happened to him?” Deven mused, “And how did he end up in those trees?”

“God knows,” Bill said, a peculiar expression on his face. “It looks like he was torn to pieces. Just
what
would do that, and why stick him halfway up a gum tree?”

“One of the monsters, perhaps,” Trent said, “Although, going by the mess on the ground, I’d say perhaps some kind of freak weather event.”

“What mess?” asked Bill.

Trent gestured to the edge of the escarpment, not fifty metres away from where they stood. “Check it out,” he said. “There are big branches down and twigs and leaves everywhere. It’s almost like a mini-tornado or whirlwind came through here, picked our friend up, tore him to pieces, and deposited him in the tree.”

“Geez!” Deven exclaimed, “I wonder how long he’s been up there?”

“A day or two, max,” Bill replied tightly. “The body is still holding together. Otherwise the crows would have had a field day picking at it.” He looked again through the viewfinder, “He’s still got his eyes, and those would be the one of the first things he’d lose to the scavengers. Perhaps the crows haven’t discovered him yet.”

“I’m not too sure about that,” Deven said pointing. “You know how we were commenting yesterday on the absence of birds and wildlife. Well, there are crows here, masses of them, and all sitting silently on those branches looking at us.”

“It’s called a murder of crows,” Bill corrected him, “And yes, I see them now. Macabre, eh?”

“This whole place creeps me out,” replied Trent quietly. “I’ll be glad to get back to Brisbane.”

“We still have work to do here guys,” Bill reminded them. “Deven, get some footage of this, also get some video with that special camera of yours. There might be something hidden that we’re missing.”

Deven nodded, and ran back to the van to get the full spectrum camera.

Trent looked up into the high branches of the gum tree, “So what are we going to do about...him?”

Bill looked at his soundman and shook his head, “Ring the police, although, I really don’t fancy trying to explain this to them.”

*

Jen half listened to the radio, as she went around her house cleaning, tidying and turning off appliances at the power points. It was three o’clock in the afternoon and the local news was on. It seemed that there had been another mysterious death. This one discovered by a television news team that had been following developments in Emerald Hills.