A Fairy Tale (27 page)

“So, assuming for the moment that fairies are real, that woman you were sparring with, she’s the one who took Emily?”

She nodded. “Yes. The same group also has your wife, and likely those other missing women you mentioned.”

He shook his head, willing this to make sense. “But why? What do they want with them?”

She closed her eyes and looked like she was in pain, then opened her eyes and said, “They’ve wanted Emily all along, and they took other women they thought might be Emily. To them, all humans look pretty much alike. They first tried to take Emily fourteen years ago. That was one of the reasons I wanted her to go to New York. I thought she’d be safe here, far away from home. But it turns out that our geography is meaningless to them. Here may as well be Louisiana. You just have to find the right gateway and know how to use it.”

“Why do they want Emily?”

She started doing all the things she hadn’t when Tanaka interviewed her. She glanced down, smoothed the bedspread, straightened the folds of her skirt around her legs, and tucked her hair behind her ear before answering without looking directly at him. “That’s the big question, but I think Maeve actually wants me. She’s never been able to catch me, but she knows if she has Emily, I’ll come for her. She’s trying to take the throne to rule the entire fairy realm, and it’s possible that she thinks I’ll be useful for that, but I don’t know how or why.” A cold, hard smile crossed her lips, then vanished. “But I believe it’s wisest to stay out of her grasp, regardless.”

Anger bubbled up in him. “You’ve known all along where Emily was? Why didn’t you say something? You let me play the worry card to get the police on the case right away, when you knew?”

“I never asked you to do anything,” she protested. “I wouldn’t have even rung your bell if I’d known Beau had someone looking after him. I’d have taken care of it all by myself. What would you have done if I had told you?” She deepened her accent and raised the pitch of her voice to a girlish tone. “Oh, Detective Murray, there’s no need to call the police. Emily was kidnapped by the fairies and taken to their realm, and I’m afraid that’s out of the jurisdiction of the NYPD. You just sit tight, and I’ll take care of it.” She gave a surprisingly unladylike snort of laughter, then said in a more normal voice, “I can’t imagine that would have gone over well.”

“I’d still have called the police,” he admitted, “and probably Bellevue.” Even now, that sounded like a wise course of action, though he’d have to have himself committed while he was at it because he couldn’t deny what he’d seen. “What about Jen? Did you know where she was, too?” He could forgive her for keeping information about Emily to herself, but not Jen.

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment before saying, “I suspected, once I saw the wedding picture. There were too many similarities for it to be coincidence. But I didn’t know for sure until last night. I am sorry about that, but, again, what could I have possibly said that you might have believed?”

“Were you ever planning to tell me?”

“The plan was to get both of them back and then make it look like they’d just found their way home.”

“That’s why you’ve been sneaking out every night, to go into this fairy realm and look for them?”

“Yes.”

“That’s where you were the other night, when you were out all night and you said you were only gone a couple of hours?”

She nodded. “But to me it really was only a couple of hours. Time does funny things in the Realm. A whole night went by out here in a couple of hours there.”

“You lied about someone trying to kidnap you.”

“Maeve’s people tried to get me, but I escaped.”

“That’s how you got all those scrapes and bruises and that burn on your wrist the next night, another kidnap attempt?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I ask you again, what could I have said? You don’t even believe me after seeing it for yourself.”

“I don’t know what I saw.”

“Now you’re just being dense. But that’s how their existence has remained nothing but legend for thousands of years. People are all too eager to rationalize what they’ve seen with their own eyes.”

“But I didn’t see anything that can’t be explained—well, other than that market appearing out of thin air, which is pretty big, I’ll admit, but I didn’t see any fairies or magic.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you were out of it for the good stuff. You even missed our shortcut through the Realm.”

He pointed at her accusingly. “See, that’s just it, you’re telling me about all this stuff that I didn’t see. How do I know you didn’t make up this whole story?”

With a groan, she shook her head sadly. “You were the one who asked for the truth. I would have been perfectly happy giving you an easy, rational explanation. You would have been happier, too. So, you want to see magic?” She raised her hand, and the bottle of pills on his nightstand flew to her. “You could probably use one of these right now.”

He ignored the pill she held out to him as he gawked at her. “What are you?” he gasped.

Instead of having a quick answer for that, she shrugged and said with a soft laugh, “I have no idea anymore.”

That admission from the incredibly self-assured Sophie took him aback. “What?”

“I knew about some of this before. I’d met fairies when I was a kid and knew how to deal with them. The rest is new to me. I learned only the other day that I’m supposedly an enchantress. I’ve just started learning about that. I get the feeling there’s something else that nobody’s telling me—if they even know the whole story. Apparently, I’m quite the mystery.”

She ran her fork through a pool of syrup on her plate. “You know, all this time, I thought that people actually liked me—or feared me—and it turns out I was using magic to manipulate them. I wonder what would happen if I turned it off entirely. Who would I be?”

“Did you put the whammy on me?”

“I have. A couple of times on purpose.” She looked up at him and shrugged. “I don’t know what I might have done unconsciously. I don’t know what parts of my life have been real. To be honest, I’m not sure how much of all this
I
believe.”

“You believe in fairies. You were just trying to convince me that they were real.”

“Because I’ve experienced them. Doing magic, that’s different.”

“What do you call what you just did?”

“Telekinesis? Maybe it’s some kind of psychic ability, not real magic. It’s the women Emily worked for at that shop who say I’m an enchantress. They know about the fairies, but I don’t know if they’re right about everything else.”

He realized he was shaking. “I can’t take this. You can’t expect me to believe it. Maybe I’ll wake up soon.”

“Then here’s the easy answer: Emily, and Jen before her, ended up with some cult of holdover hippies who like to party in Central Park in the middle of the night. They’re probably keeping them drugged so they don’t remember who they are and so they can’t escape. Does that work better for you?”

“Not really. I don’t know what you are or what you’re up to, but I don’t like any of it.”

“Then, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot to do.” She slid off the bed, picked up the breakfast tray and carried it to the kitchen. A burst of classical piano music from somewhere on the floor brought her back to the bedroom to get her phone. She looked at the screen and groaned before answering it. “Hello, Mama,” she said perkily. She listened for a while, then her eyes went wide with alarm. “What’s wrong? Oh no. But what about Bess, can’t she do anything? What set her off? Maybe if I talked to her.”

She sat on the end of the bed, biting her lip and pulling one foot up under her. In a soft, gentle voice, like someone would talk to a scared small child, she said, “Hello, Nana, it’s Sophie. I went to New York to visit Emily.”

She chewed on her lip while she listened, and then she said, “Easy, easy, Nana. I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m visiting Emily. It’s okay. I’ll be home soon. Why don’t we sing a song together? It’ll be just like I’m there.” She ran the back of her hand across her eyes, brushing away tears, before she started singing what sounded like an old folk song.

Michael felt like he was eavesdropping on a private moment, so he forced himself to his feet and staggered into the kitchen, where at least he wasn’t watching her, even though he could still hear everything. He should make tea, he decided. She sounded like she could use another cup. He filled the teakettle and put it on the stove. Soon, the rattle of the kettle drowned out some of Sophie’s voice so he didn’t feel so much like he was eavesdropping.

She was still singing when the kettle boiled and he poured hot water over a tea bag. Her voice was very different from Emily’s. Emily had a big, powerful voice that could reach the back row of the upper balcony. Sophie’s voice was soft and sweet, a voice made for singing lullabies, which, he realized, was what she was doing. Her song reminded him of “Scarborough Fair,” the old Simon and Garfunkle song his mother had liked, with its repetitive pattern and seemingly nonsensical list of impossible tasks. It wasn’t a likely choice for a lullaby, but maybe it was an old song Sophie’s grandmother remembered from her youth.

She was finishing the song when he returned to the bedroom. She looked up in surprise, then nodded in thanks as she took the mug from him. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, “Is she better now?”

Standing this close to her, he could hear the voice on the other end of the phone saying, “She’s quit screaming and yelling, but you should still get home right away. You don’t need to be playing in New York when your grandmother needs you.”

And that, right there, made things add up. Now Michael understood her—that is, the human part of her life, the reason someone like Sophie had stayed in a small town instead of pursuing her ambitions. He put his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of silent support. “But I can’t, Mama,” she said. “My return flight isn’t until next week, and you know how
impossible
it is to make changes these days.”

“She’s your grandmother. She’s not any relation of mine, and I can’t deal with her. She won’t listen to anyone but you.”

“I just need a few days, okay, Mama? I haven’t had a break in ages, and Emily needs me right now.”

A deeper, richer voice came on the line after a brief, muffled argument. “You stay right where you are and have a good time. We’ll be fine. Just call and talk to your grandmother every so often, you hear?”

Sophie gave a shaky smile. “Thank you, Bess. And please let me know if there’s a problem.”

“I’ll do that.”

Sophie gave a long, shuddering sigh after she ended the call, then she took a sip of tea and glanced up at Michael. “Sorry about that. I believe I have now dumped all my family drama in your lap.”

He sat next to her. “Is it Alzheimer’s?”

She nodded. “It started about a year before Daddy died—it’s his mother. She moved in with us then. She and Mama never got along, and it only got worse after he died. I can certainly understand Mama’s position. She got stuck looking after a mother-in-law who never approved of her.”

“But you were the one who had to take on the responsibility,” Michael concluded.

“We were always close. I don’t mind, really, but it’s the last thing I need right now.”

“Does your mother know? About the fairies, and all?”

“Oh, heavens, no! My grandmother does, but nobody but me believes her.”

“That’s why you didn’t tell your mother Emily was missing.”

“Precisely. You don’t believe me, with what you’ve seen. My mother would refuse to believe out of sheer spite.”

He wanted to reassure her that he did believe her, but it wouldn’t be true. He sat in silence while she picked up her bag and called to Beau. He was still sitting there when he heard his front door open and close.

With her gone, the last fragments of his belief dissipated. He was still pretty sure he’d seen Jen, and he had a feeling that would lead him to Emily. It was worth looking into. He picked up the phone, dialed the precinct, and left a message for Tanaka.

Maeve’s Apartment

Later

Emily was convinced that Maeve was completely, totally, out of her mind. Maybe there had never been any rhyme or reason to why she wanted or needed Sophie. Maybe it was just some wacky revenge fantasy and she wanted Sophie there to see her moment of triumph. It wouldn’t be the first time that an old rival of Sophie’s had dreamed of that day coming.

Maeve’s obsession with songs Emily knew from her childhood was the final proof that she was nuts. “You know a song!” she kept repeating. “Sing it for me!”

And, since her life and maybe even the freedom of the fairy world depended on it, Emily sang. It was like the audition from hell, but because she was a singer, she knew a lot of songs, and if Sophie needed her to buy time, then time she would buy.

She started with the alphabet song, but Maeve cut her off midway through. “No, that’s not it,” she said with an impatient wave.

Unlike at an audition, she couldn’t just leave after being told no thanks. She had to try again, opting for “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” Maeve sat forward with some interest at first before cutting Emily off.

That led to “I’m a Little Teapot,” complete with the arm movements. The rest of the fairies liked that one, but Maeve shook her head. Emily moved on to “Itsy, Bitsy Spider,” doing the hand motions that went with it. A few of the fairies tried to imitate the way she made the spider walk by touching the pinky of one hand to the thumb of the other and then swiveling her hands, but Maeve was not amused.

Just to be obnoxious, Emily belted out “Tomorrow” from
Annie,
a role she’d been born to play—she hadn’t even needed the red, curly wig. In the theater world, she’d have been pelted with rotten vegetables for that one, but the fairies liked it. Maeve just shook her head.

“Old MacDonald Had a Farm” was a hit with the fairies, who sang along with the “E-I-E-I-O” part. Maeve frowned carefully as she listened, like she was trying to pick hidden meanings out of the words. Emily was glad when Maeve cut off that one because she’d forgotten a lot of it. To go with the farm theme, she sang “The Farmer in the Dell.” Again, Maeve listened intently, but eventually shook her head.