Beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and picturesque facade of the City of Redemption lies another city; a community of dark and ancient magic populated by creatures of the night.
Strephon Bellman, a semi-immortal half-fae, has found his mission to investigate fae activity in the mortal world complicated by Cassandra True, a reporter for the Daily Oracle who is unaware of his supernatural ancestry. After entering her dreams once to protect her soul from a magical attack, he now finds that he quite literally cannot keep her out of his mind.
Dark Redemption is an Urban Gothic Fantasy which will be running in weekly installments Wednesday evenings. Previous installments can be found linked at the Dark Redemption Index.
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Chapter 19: Friendlee Conversation
In Which Strephon receives prudent, if unasked-for, advice, Miss True shares some good news, and Grandma Simms simply stays out of the way.
Outside the window the sun was shining; a bright, tropical sun blazing over an azure sea. Warm waves lapped against the white sands of a perfect beach.
The tea. Concentrate on the tea.
The door to his room opened and a woman entered. What are you doing, dear?
Strephon looked up. Phyllis? But you're dead!
Not in your memory. That's all that matters.
Strephon nodded. Of course. I'm dreaming. She looked as young as she had when they'd first met, her lovely face wreathed in strawberry curls.
She sat down on the bed, next to his wheelchair. What are you doing inside? It's so lovely out. Strephon did not reply. You're hiding, aren't you.
I am not hiding.
Then why did you construct these walls around your mind? You wish to keep someone out, correct?
I thought it prudent.
My ever prudent Strephon. The sweet music of her laugh made his soul ache. You know, she is a nice girl.
Strephon followed her gaze out the window. He saw Cassandra, standing on the beach all alone, wearing a raincoat and staring across the sands at him.
I'm only a memory, Strephon. You're not going to hurt my feelings if you look at another woman, I promise. I never expected you to remain in mourning for the rest of your life. I want you to be happy.
I am happy.
You certainly don't look it. Why did you decide to remain here in the Mortal World instead of going back to the Unseen Realm? Strephon sat in his cold, damp room stirring his tea. The tea was weak and tepid and he could not bring himself to drink it. Still, he stirred it, concentrating on tracing methodical figure eights with his spoon; anything to keep his mind off the window.
Because I preferred reality to illusion.
Then why are you talking to a memory when reality is waiting out your window?
He gazed out the window. Cassandra was still out there, looking wistfully in his direction. His hands grasped the windowsill. He knew it wasn't really a window, but rather a psychic barrier constructed to prevent her mind from entering his dreams... and to prevent his from crossing over into hers. He realized that Phyllis had left him and he suddenly felt more alone than ever. His fingers pressed against the windowpane. He knew what he must do.
He woke up.
He was lying in his own bed. His shades were drawn. Outside the full moon shone over the city. He lay there for a long time listening to the distant din of the wolves.
* * * * *
Strephon could not prove that Devon had been snitching his biscuits, but someone certainly had; when he looked for them in his cupboard later the next day, it was empty. Fortunately, the Friendlee-Mart on Fitch Street was only a few blocks away and so he wouldn't need to call a cab. Which was just as well. Strephon did not want to be carried or ferried or helped. He wished to do something himself.
Most of all he wanted to get out of the house.
A half a block from his house the slate grey sky dissolved into a light drizzle. The rain on his face felt rather pleasant and he told himself he didn't need to go back for an umbrella. By the time he reached the shelter of the Friendlee-Mart he was cursing his own stubbornness and happy to escape the downpour.
He picked up a package of biscuits, a bottle of milk, some eggs and a couple other items and wheeled over to the checkout. Grandma Simms sat behind the cash register, reading a copy of The Daily Oracle. A row of stuffed toads sat on the counter in front of her; each one adorned with a colorful bandanna and representing, if local legend was true, a gang leader who had annoyed her.
"Good day, Mister Strephon," Mrs. Simms greeted him. "And how be you today?"
"Just fine, Grandmama."
"And what of Miss True? How is she doing?"
"I couldn't say."
Grandma Simms raised a skeptical eyebrow and turned the page of her newspaper. "You had dinner with her just last night," she observed.
Strephon frowned. "Have you been spying on me?"
"I'm looking after you. Some folks are too stubborn to look after themselves. I hope you been treating that Miss True right like I told you to. It's about time you had another woman in your life."
"With you looking after me, what other woman do I need?"
Mrs. Simms snorted. "Don't talk foolishness. She's a nice girl; better than an old fool like you deserves, so take care of her."
Just then the door to the shop opened and Cassandra walked in. She shook the rain from her umbrella and folded it up.
"Why look! We been just talking about you!"
"Hullo, Grandma Simms! Oh, hello, Strephon!" Cassandra waved cheerily.
"What are you doing here?" Strephon asked.
"Ooo, I just happened to be in the neighborhood. Well, actually I came to see you."
Strephon glanced at Grandma Simms, but she quickly retreated behind her newspaper and an extremely satisfied smile.
"I wanted to tell you," Cassandra continued. "I had my interview with Simon Knox this morning! He wants to hire me!"
"Oh." A chill struck Strephon. He still hadn't figured out how Knox fit in with Melchior's plans, but he knew the two were allied. Why would a man like Knox take a personal interest in a fledgling reporter like Cassandra? Strephon could think of only one reason: her connection with him.
"Have you accepted?"
Cassandra grinned. "All but. I said I'd think about it. But when I get back to the Oracle, I'm going to tell Cyril Potts where he can stick his Page Three bimbos. Isn't this wonderful, Strephon?"
Strephon squirmed uncomfortably. "Um... Cassandra..."
"Yes?" She regarded him with large, expectant eyes. Why did she have to make things so damned difficult?
"Don't do it."
"What?"
"Don't take the job."
Cassandra blinked. "I don't understand! I thought you wanted me to escape Page Three!"
"I do! It's just that... well, I don't think Mr. Knox's intentions are honorable."
She laughed. "Sometimes I think you really are from another century. This isn't the Victorian Age, you know."
"I am reminded of that every day."
She placed her hands on the armrests of his chair and leaned over him. "Strephon, don't tell me you're jealous!"
"I am not jealous!" Strephon took a deep breath. "Cassandra, listen to me. I don't want you to work for Simon Knox."
"And why not?"
Strephon glowered at her. He couldn't exactly tell her that Knox was some kind of sorcerer in league with a sinister faerie and that she was putting herself in danger. "I... don't think The Morning Star is right for you."
"Are you saying The Oracle is all I'm good for?"
"I didn't say that!"
"Well, Mister Knox seems to think I'll do just fine!"
"Mister Knox is just hiring you to get at me!"
Strephon hadn't intended to say that, but it just blurted out. Cassandra gaped at him for a moment. "Mister Bellman," she said in an icy tone. "That is the most egocentric thing I've ever heard!"
"Cassandra..."
"Of course my writing ability couldn't have anything to do with it!"
"Cassandra, If you'll just listen..."
"You self-centered jerk! You just don't like the idea of a woman having a successful career, that's it!"
"That is not it! I'm only thinking of what's best for you!"
"Oh yeah? Well don't do me any favors! I can handle my own career myself!" She grabbed the carton of eggs off the counter and broke it over Strephon's head. Then she stormed out of the shop and into the rain.
Gandma Simms looked over her newspaper critically. "That was not what I had in mind."
NEXT: My Favorite Bathtime Gurgles