Night Terrors (Sarah Beauhall Book 4) (35 page)

Skella and I ran through the forest back to the cave. Neither of us said anything, but I dared to hope. Was it this simple? Would this really be the final piece to the puzzle?

I just needed to figure out how to get her body to the school without freaking out the staff. School was nearly out. Maybe a couple of more days. But there was no way I was waiting. No way I was going to sit around with this possibility and do nothing while we waited.

Luckily, that choice was taken out of my hands.

When Skella and I arrived at Black Briar, Deidre told me that Jimmy, Gunther, and Stuart had just left to visit the Order of Mordred folks.

“Jimmy wanted you there,” Deidre said, her face a mix of fear and anxiety. “I told him not to go, I don’t trust those people.”

“Why did he go?” I asked, confused.

She looked lost, forlorn. “They said they had news of his parents. And they said they had other secrets. He thinks they know how to bring Katie home.”

I looked from Deidre to Skella. Skella looked dubious, but shrugged. “Could be,” she said.

Deidre was a wreck. I put a hand on her shoulder, lending her my strength. “I’ll go to him,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

I looked at Skella. “Back to Kent, then?”

Skella nodded and took my hand.

“I’ll do what I can to keep them safe, Deidre. I promise you. In the meantime, can you call Melanie? Get her out here. We need to talk about moving Katie.”

“I’ll call her,” Deidra said, as Skella touched the hallway mirror. “But watch out for that crazy woman. Gottschalk, I think her name is. She called ranting about something that had Jimmy freaked out.”

“I’m on it.”

Skella took my hand and waved at Deidre as we stepped back into the Kent apartment and I saw how truly devoid of life it had become. The breach, the stripping away of all items; this was truly a desert.

I grabbed the book and Skella beat feet back to Gletts.

“Call me,” she said. “I’ll help where I can.”

I nodded, and she faded back through the mirror.

I grabbed the book and my gear and headed out of the apartment, calling Jimmy on my cell. He answered as I was climbing on the bike, and he texted me the address of the meet. It was at Gottschalk’s place. Pretty gutsy on her part.

Time to rock and roll. Not the goal I wanted, but it was a place we could take action. And if they knew something about Katie, mores the better.

Fifty-one

I pulled up to the address Jimmy had given me in Kirkland, surprised how much the place looked like a gingerbread house. Visions of Hansel and Gretel came to mind. Too clichéd, frankly. Jimmy’s truck, Stuart’s car, and Gunther’s bike were all parked out front, along with a smattering of other vehicles. It looked like a block party. I wondered if the neighbors would complain.

I parked my bike beside Gunther’s and walked down the long picket fence. Near the gate there was a small sign warning to beware the attack cat. It was cute and disarming. Gottschalk certainly cultivated the crazy old cat lady mystique. I wonder if the attack cat was the same one that talked to Charlie?

I opened the gate, which squeaked on the backward swing, closing with a neat little click. The yard was well maintained with raised flowerbeds, hearty rhododendrons, and several styles of birdbaths.

The walk was white stone, rough-cut and laid out in clean lines up to a wide porch with a swing and another little sign warning that solicitors who were not selling Girl Scout cookies were not welcome.

I rapped on the door and a young woman answered. She had a look about her that tickled the back of my mind—thin, brunette, pug nose, bright brown eyes, and dimples when she smiled. Very cute. Almost too cute. I was positive I’d seen her somewhere, but for the life of me I couldn’t place her. Maybe she had spied on me at some point, or maybe I’d just run into her at the market. The runes on my scalp tingled, though. She had power of some measure, something flagrant and itchy. Her aura caused the hairs on my arms to stand up. Like a quick swipe of static electricity.

“Madame will be most delighted you have arrived,” she said, sweeping me down the short hall to a sitting room. Jimmy sat on a rather rickety chair with a television tray propped in front of him and a small cup and saucer set in the center of what had to be the face of Don Adams. I glanced to where Gunther sat and saw the dented face of Barbara Feldon. They were a
Get Smart
set.

So I watched too much Nick at Night. I’m not sure if they saw the irony. Move along.

Stuart stood behind Gunther, staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back and his shoulders bunched like he was ready to fight. Gunther looked slightly amused and winked at me when I stepped into the room. Jimmy did not take his eyes off Gottschalk.

“You’ve missed the tea,” Madame Gottschalk barked, waving her hands at the woman who’d escorted me down the fairly short hallway.

“Would you like water?” the young woman asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

She nodded, not glancing at the seething Madame and left the room. No one said a word until the young woman returned with my water. She left the room and Madame began talking again.

“As I was saying,” she started at a rather high volume. “Your people are stirring things up, especially her,” she said, jerking an arthritic hand in my direction. She looked like a goblin or something, squat and fat, with knobbly knuckles and spotted skin. Maybe a toad in a housecoat.

“What have I done?” I asked, having no patience for this type of BS.

She whipped her head around, eyes bulging and her cheeks quivering. For a moment, I thought she was going to spit on me, but she mustered up a throat-bobbing swallow and opened her mouth with a sneer. “Don’t think I don’t know you truck with the dragon,” she said, the anger so apparent that her skin flushed red. “You were supposed to be an ally. You were supposed to be a watcher. Now I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Implying what?” Gunther asked, leaning back in his folding chair.

“You compromise us all,” she crowed, flapping her hands in front of her. “And this one,” she pointed past Gunther to Stuart. “He consorts with the witch.”

Jimmy dropped his head into his hands. I could see the veins in his temple throbbing. I’m sure he had a hint that Stuart and Qindra had met a few times since he and Katie had rescued her before Christmas. I’m just not sure it had been so blatantly thrown into his face.

Stuart didn’t turn around, but he clenched his hands into fists and hunched his shoulders even tighter.

“Just take a breath,” Jimmy said, lowering his hands and raising his head. “We don’t know you folks. We came here on good faith. Do you have information to trade, or do you just want to berate us for our personal relationships?”

Gottschalk took two gulping breaths, looking around the sitting room. A tabby cat strolled across the top of the bookcase to her right, dropped to the arm of her chair, and pushed his head into her shoulder, purring loudly.

“Oh, take their side,” she groused, but scratched the cat behind the ears.

“Look,” Jimmy said. “Did you know my parents?”

Gottschalk nodded once, the breath causing her nostrils to flare.

“Do you have information about their disappearance?”

Gottschalk raised her head to the point she was looking down her nose at Jimmy. “We may have some middling information. What do you have we could possibly be interested in trading?”

Jimmy started to rise from his chair, but Gunther put his hand on his friends arm and leaned forward on his own.

“If you have knowledge of Olivia and Paul Cornett, perhaps it would be a show of good faith to tell us, a gift perhaps, to seal a new friendship.”

Sarah watched him as he spoke. His words were not singsong, but they carried the tone and weight of ritual.

“New friends?” Gottschalk asked, licking her lips. “It only seems fair.” She fussed with the cat a moment, keeping her eyes locked onto Gunther’s.

“And of course,” he continued. “We would offer you a gift in return.”

He looked over at Jimmy who reached between his feet and pulled opened a knapsack. Inside were three items: a scroll, a small dagger, and a necklace of dark stones. He laid each of them on the television tray in front of him.

“Trinkets?” Gottschalk asked. “Pretties?”

Jimmy took a deep breath and picked up the scroll. “This is the account of certain activities which occurred in Minsk nearly one-hundred years ago.” He sat that back down. “They may be of interest to someone close to you.”

Gottschalk’s eyes narrowed, but she only nodded.

He picked up the dagger holding it between his thumb and one finger. The scabbard was plain leather, but worked with some symbols. My runes itched at the thought of them. “This item is reported to have belonged to Rasputin—”

Gottschalk sat forward, pushing the cat aside. Of course the furry prince would have none of that. He arched his back, hissed once, then strutted off the edge of the chair and sauntered to twine himself against Stuart’s legs.

We’d all followed the cat’s progress—all but Madame. Her eyes were only on the dagger.

“And the third?” she asked, the greed eager in her voice.

“A trifle,” Gunther said, waving his hand over the lot.

“It came out of Iceland,” Jimmy said, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know the history of it, nor its importance.” He paused, glancing at Gunther who just nodded once. “This is what convinced my parents to go to Reykjavik.”

My head snapped up, gazing hard at Jimmy. I’d never seen that necklace, and I’m willing to bet Katie hadn’t either. Man, she was going to be livid when she came out of her coma. She and Jimmy had only just begun to fix their relationship after the whole Fafnir’s ring incident.

“Where did you get these?” Gottschalk asked.

“The dagger and the scroll were hidden in a safety deposit box,” Jimmy said, aiming his words to me.

That’s where he’d recovered Fafnir’s ring. His parents had left them three clay statues, each with a secret inside.

“The necklace has been in the safekeeping of others,” Gunther said, looking at me briefly then focusing on Gottschalk. He needn’t have bothered. Gottschalk had no eyes for anything or anyone beyond the dagger.

I caught Gunther’s eyes, and he casually fingered his own necklace—a crucifix. So, his order had been examining the Reykjavik necklace. I wondered what they knew about it and just why the hell Jimmy was willing to give up these three items.

“These are trifles,” Gottschalk said, sitting back and waving her hand in front of her face. “Minor trinkets. What could you possibly want in return?”

Gunther sat back, smiling. Gottschalk and Jimmy had locked eyes and were not budging.

“First we want to know everything you know about my parents, what they were doing, where they went, and how or why they disappeared.”

Gottschalk smiled demurely. “That’s a fair trade.” She rolled herself forward, leveraging her girth out onto the edge of her recliner, her one arm outstretched, reaching for the items on Jimmy’s tray.

Jimmy closed his hands over the tray, blocking her reach.

“Second, we want access to your archives and your people,” he said, unsmiling. “We want to interview them about what’s going on in our area, the dragons in general, and anything else you may have discovered about this region.”

That was too much. Madame sat back with a thump, her face distorted with disgust. “Are you mad?”

“Third,” Jimmy want on, his voice rising to overwhelm her sputtering.

“Third?” she raged, rising out of her chair, knocking over her own television tray, sending a bone white china cup to the hardwood floor with a crash. “You demand too much.”

“Third!” Jimmy cried, rising on his own to loom over the tray with his artifacts. “You will stop following my people, stop attempting to infiltrate Black Briar, and stop spying on us for your sister in Minsk.”

Gottschalk sat back with an
oomph
, her face suddenly pale. “My sister?”

Gunther sat forward. “The scroll will appease her,” he said, his voice like steel. “Baba Yaga is a powerful witch,” he said. I shook my head, trying to make sure I’d heard him right. Baba Yaga of the chicken-legged hut? What the hell?

“She …” Madame gulped once and coughed.

The young woman appeared at my side again. “Yes, Madame?”

“Water,” the old woman croaked.

We waited while the young servant brought forth a tall glass of water, and watched as Gottschalk drained it in one long pull.

She handed the glass back to her servant and waved her away.

The young woman bowed and turned, winking at me as she did so. Damn, I know her from somewhere. I just couldn’t place her. That was going to bug the crap out of me.

“I will send someone to you before the next full moon,” she said, her voice quavering.

Was she scared? Was her sister truly Baba Yaga? And if so, why did Black Briar knowing this frighten her so much?

“Seven days,” Stuart said, his voice a tight ball of pain.

“Quite right,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face and composing herself. “I will send you a report of what we know of your parents,” she held up one finger. “I will have my people stand down, but there is a caveat to that.”

Jimmy frowned. “Such as?”

“We meet regularly, and exchange news, ideas, and plans. That way we may coordinate our activities, share the resources, and perhaps learn more by duplicating less.”

Jimmy glanced at Gunther who shrugged. Then he looked at me for the first time. His eyes were bloodshot. “Sarah?”

I nodded. It seemed reasonable.

“Fine,” he said. “Sarah will meet with you. What else?”

Wait, what? “Um …” I began, but Gunther shook his head quickly and I subsided. Like I needed another job with no paycheck.

“Finally,” she said, “You may inquire of us, anything you wish, and we shall do the same. But we will not freely give up all we have gathered. We do not know if that is a fair trade.”

Jimmy scowled, but nodded. “Fair enough.”

Madame sat forward, her hands out, reaching toward Jimmy.

I stepped forward, picked up the three items, and stepped toward her.